Morning light did nothing to rouse Justin, on his side, snuggled in covers and lightly snoring.

Brian, wide awake and dressed only in sweat pants crept up slowly, worked himself onto the bed and spooned against Justin’s back. No response.

“Hey,” Brian blew in his ear.

Justin gasped, raised a hand to brush off the offender and jerked back an elbow that accidentally caught Brian’s gut.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Brian rolled back gripping his stomach and almost fell off the bed.

“Jesus, Brian,” Justin went flat back, tangled in covers. “I thought you were Wolfram.”

“Who the fuck is Wolfram?”

“The cat,” Justin rubbed his sleepy eyes, watched Brian stand. “And let’s not go anywhere near there. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Justin pushed the covers down past his waist and stretched long.

“Yeah, and paybacks are hell.”

Aroused by the sight, Brian pounced on Justin, layered kisses over his neck and chest. He rested his head on Justin’s shoulder, felt Justin’s hand ease through his hair, his voice resonate.

“I don’t have to be at the diner till five. So what’s on the agenda for today?” Justin watched Brian’s rising head crack a you-know-what sinister smile. “I mean…

afterwards.”

Brian huffed a breath, settled on his side, propped his head on a raised hand. “Anything you want to do. It’s your call.” His free hand leisurely traveled down Justin’s chest, slipped under the covers. Justin stroked Brian’s arm.

“I want to go to the Mall.”

Zonk. The fucking Mall? On SATURDAY? Brian’s hand slowed momentum in curls of hidden hair. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“I mean…with you,” Justin tried again. “Emmett says-”

“Now THERE’S a real expert,” Brian flopped onto his back, mood dampened.

Justin rose and turned to hover over him. “Emmett says you can learn a lot about someone by watching him shop. And I want to know everything about you,” Justin kissed Brian’s lips. Flattery or bribery, he wasn’t giving up.

Brian’s hand skimmed down Justin’s back and under the covers, slowly roamed the curves of his ass. “Everything?”

“Uh huh,” Justin smiled.

Brian almost said that would take a galaxy lifetime. Ah, what the hell.

The Mall teemed with every form of life on the planet. Maybe a few other planets.

As they walked along, Brian watched Justin’s eyes dart from faces, to window treatments, to just suncast shadows from the skylights. Eyes of a true artist. Ever searching for the simple to make spectacular. He wondered when he’d lost that for himself. That fascination for emotion in the posture of someone’s hand or the fall of a shadow.

Justin glimpsed Brian on the sly, catching a brief smile when they passed a baby in a stroller…or a guy who stared too long. Would some things ever change. Then there were moments when Brian would spend a little more time with a silk tie, or soft sweater. Beautiful, sensual things no true hard-ass could appreciate. He’d flicker a look that put Justin in the same context. Just a flicker. But Justin noticed.

“Let’s stop here,” Justin veered toward a shop whose windows sported bright paintings of birds.

Brian followed, looked up with favor at a neon “EXOTICA” sign.

Another example of deceptive advertising.

“A pet store?” Brian listened to the cheeps and squawks of rare birds, trailed Justin past aquariums of colorful salt-water dwellers.

Justin stopped at a row of glass tanks. “I need something alive and unusual with not much upkeep.”

“You’ve got me.”

“Two out of three isn’t bad.”

“Oh? I thought you liked how much I keep it up.”

“Bri-an,” Justin slowly scanned around.

“How about a couple of these?” Brian pointed to a tank of hermits, bent near Justin’s ear. “Then I can tell everybody Justin has crabs.”

“Pick two and buy them for me, so I can tell everybody I got ‘em from you,” Justin rolled his eyes, moved to the next tank and tilted his head. The snake looked like a peaceful prospect. Until Brian got in his ear.

“I’ll nail your balls to a rail.”

Justin winced, stepped to the next tank. The tarantula that ate Brooklyn.

Brian grabbed Justin’s shoulders in both hands and moved him back to the snake.

Soon after, Justin walked out of the store empty-handed. “I can’t believe they want two-hundred dollars for a snake.”

“For that amount of money you should get something that at least has character and attitude,” Brian stalled at the front window, drawn by a sight he’d missed on the way in. A mature, gold-eyed Russian Blue cat sitting proud.

Justin glanced back, caught Brian’s raised brow as he and the cat assessed each other’s worthiness.

“Ooooh no,” Justin grabbed Brian’s hand and pulled. “One character with attitude is all I can handle.”

Justin saw that grin again, flung Brian’s hand aside. “What a gutter mind.” But he said it with a smile.

Later, in a high-end store bedding section, Brian was on one side of a tall rack and holding a packaged dark blue sheet. Then it struck without warning. Couple shock. His face tensed, he nearly flung the package back on the shelf, then closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

On the opposite side of the rack, Justin considered a wild-patterned dark sheet.

“Justin.” Jennifer Taylor lit like a halogen. “You should have called me.”

“Mom,” he re-shelved the sheet and hugged her.

Jennifer’s eyes widened and dimmed at the sight of Brian rounding the shelf unit and closing behind Justin. Brian. Justin. Bed sheets. Her stiff release and forced smile said all. “Hello, Brian.”

“Mrs. Taylor,” he nodded, gracious to the ice but grateful for the outlet. “Justin. I have to go. Why don’t you and your Mom have a nice lunch together, then she can drop you home?”

Justin gaped at him, saw his hazel eyes darken. “Sure,” he edged a smile. “Later.”

“Later. Nice to see you, Mrs. Taylor,” he tipped a smile and strode away.

“Honey,” Jennifer pulled Justin’s attention back, “What…” How to put this. “Is…uh…aren’t you going with that nice boy, Ethan?”

“What’s wrong with Brian?”

Jennifer’s eyes flit around, stopped on an older lady whose nearby browsing and darting eyes betrayed her interest. Jennifer snapped to casual mode. “Well. Nothing. Where would you like to eat?”

With Brian. “Anywhere you want is fine with me,” he shrugged and smiled, couldn’t help glancing back to see if Brian was lurking.

Jennifer noticed, also looked and was satisfied he was gone. “I know just the place,” she turned up the aisle. “They make a burger that you wouldn’t believe.”

Brian started the Jeep, reached for the shift. His cell rang. He leaned back listening to the ringing, thinking it was Justin. They’d shopped together in the past. Walked the park, caught a flick. So what was he giving greater power. The pleasure of being with one person? Or the pain of losing it? He drew the phone from his pocket, quirked a brow at the caller ID, answered.

Justin walked beside his Mother, eyes still searching. Brian seemed all right until her cool reception.

“Mom, Brian and I are seeing each other again.”

“I guessed as much,” she looked straight ahead, decided that as long as they kept walking, no one could listen in. “But I wish you’d let go. A man his age-”

“Don’t start with the age shit.”

“Justin, please let me finish,” she raised a hand. “He’s had his fun, and he can’t give you that.”

“You don’t know anything about Brian. He can’t give me that because his life WASN’T fun. But that doesn’t mean he can’t find it…with me.”

“If you pass up the good times of being young-” she stopped at a wilting tree in the mall garden and faced him, “-you may someday regret it. Maybe someday…resent HIM for it.”

“What do you call the good times of being young? Hanging out drinking with the frat boys? Hooting at the football games?” he kept his voice low, “Tallying all the guys we fu…did?”

“Justin.”

“I don’t need all that. I don’t want all that. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t want you to regret…keeping locked to one person…who won’t stay locked to you.”

“This isn’t about me and Brian, is it?” Justin narrowed on her wide eyes. “It’s about you and Dad.”

Jennifer glanced off, bit her lip, faced him and stepped closer. “It’s about knowing more than you do,” she touched his arm, “…and hoping you’ll listen…and make wise choices.”

“I’m not some dumb little kid. I know what I want.”

“I never doubted that.”

“Then trust me.”

Checkmate.

Jennifer stared in silence. No would drive Justin away; yes would bless a relationship she didn’t condone. She knew what Justin wanted, but what about Brian. “Okay.” She nodded, but didn’t smile. Stalemate.

A library conference room. That’s where Chad asked to meet. Brian stood beside him at a long table where a couple folders sat beside his briefcase and Chad’s laptop. Brian tensed while reviewing a five-page report of English and jargon.

Chad skimmed a finger down a list on Page One. “We know there were definitely four access points open,” flipped to Two. “You can ban wireless, but some people get offended by that. It’s easier to change all the passwords to random alpha-numerics. Not names or words. I listed some small fixes but your best bet is a firewall with a router-”

“Laymen’s terms please?”

“Protective devices?”

“Better.” Brian flipped to the last page. “That’s quite a price range. Three to twenty-six thousand.”

“Vanguard could do okay mid-range. I listed only the best software programs.”

“How will I know it works?”

“I’ll do a couple drives…see if I pick up any ID’s. You can come with me if you want.”

“I’ll think about it. Is that everything?” Brian opened his case, put the report inside and shut it.

Chad’s paused. “I asked a friend of yours to help out. Justin Taylor.”

“What?” Brian drummed his fingers on his briefcase.

“We met in your office. I checked him out with Aunt Cyn and I know you’re good friends.”

“Why Justin, and why didn’t you check with me first?” Brian seethed.

“Mr. Kinney, we agreed I could work on my own project while doing yours. He’s got access to some equipment I need. Besides, me hanging around Vanguard looks too suspicious. But he’s known well enough so if I get questioned, I’m a friend of Justin’s.”

“You’re not using Justin,” Brian fumed.

“Nobody’s using him. I told him I’d pay him, and he’s interested. So it’s really a deal between me and Justin. I’m telling you so you know that from now on, if I’m around, it’s because I’m working on a project with him…and not you or your assistant.”

Brian didn’t like the setup. But Chad had a point. And two college students on a project were none of his business. Wasn’t that how goddamned Ethan started. “I’ll have to run this by Mr. Vance before we commit.”

“You’ve got my number.”

Not quite, but working on it. “I’ll be in touch.” He picked up his briefcase and left wondering if his gaydar was off, or if computer nerds were too cross-wired to register easily. Fuck. When did he start scrutinizing everything with a dick near Justin.

Chad watched Brian turn the corner out of sight, then fished through a folder until he found Justin’s note.

At the Liberty Diner, Brian set his coffee down, eyed Justin seated across from him.

“The answer is no.”

“Come on, Brian. It’s just dinner.”

Debbie heard, flew in with a wide smile. “What’s with the long faces? Babylon close down?”

“My Mom invited us to dinner-”

“You,” Brian corrected.

“I can bring someone if I want,” Justin countered, slid from the booth, pulled a check pad from his apron and stormed over to a group of new customers.

Debbie perched a hand on a hip, leaned a flat palm on the table and stared a what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look. “You know, he’s proud of you and wants to be seen with you. Couldn’t you just do this one thing for him? Or is it. . . god help me…” Debbie stared up, shook her head and looked back, “-too fucking couple-y for you?”

Oh she was good. Brian didn’t have a quick comeback, but Michael saved him.

“Hi, Mom, Brian.”

“Hi, Honey.”

Michael craned back to Justin at the far end, “I guess Justin must still be mad about that paycheck,” he slid into the booth. “I said hi and he growled ‘he’s back there’.” He stared at Debbie, Brian. “Did I walk in on something?” That got him a double barrel round.

Debbie started, “Mr. I Don’t Do Dates won’t go to Justin’s Mom’s for dinner.”

Brian finished, “Mrs. President of the Fiddle-Lovers Fan Club didn’t request my presence.”

“Jennifer is a very open-minded and wonderful lady,” Debbie flared at Brian.

Michael quietly looked up, “Like you were when I brought Ben for dinner?”

“That was different,” Debbie toned down.

“I think she’d rather see Justin with someone else, too,” Michael pressed.

“Well,” Debbie primped her wig, looked at Justin sulking near the door, “If she does, she’ll keep right on feeling that way unless you two do something to change it. I got orders up.” And she trooped to the pickup station.

Brian enjoyed the exchange for his benefit, watching his best friend in action.

“Don’t look so smug,” Michael squinted. “I know you hate couple shit. You should do it for Justin, though.”

Fuck. It WAS genetic.

“Because he’s proud of me and wants to be seen with me?” Brian looked off with a sarcastic huff.

“No. Because you’re proud of HIM, and want to be seen with HIM.”

A trap. A revelation. Brian side-eyed Michael’s steady gaze, tensed his lips, brushed a hand over the back of his neck. Then he stretched around and waved Justin over.

“So what did you want to see me about?” Brian volleyed eyes from Michael to Justin who was taking his stubborn time.

“Nothing important,” Michael shrugged.

“Mikey,” Brian pried.

Justin stepped up with a curt, “Can I get you anything else, Sir?”

Michael slid from the booth. “I’ll catch you later,” to Brian, and, “See ya, Justin.” He clipped a “Bye, Mom,” to Debbie behind the counter.

“You just got here,” she called to his back before she was distracted by “I asked for decalf,” from a disgruntled patron.

Michael stopped at the door, turned to see Debbie apologizing to the patron, Justin listening to Brian. He went outside, stopped on the corner, pulled a folded paper from his pocket, opened and read his scrawled Sales Pitch with all its scratched out words and rewrites. He closed his eyes, whispered, “I can do this,” crunched the paper into his pocket, hardened his look and headed up the street.

Michael walks past the diner window; Justin kisses Brian.

Song: “Emerge” by Fischerspooner

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