At the Diner, Justin scanned three occupied tables, two loners at the counter then stepped up to Debbie refilling the coffee maker.

“Deb?  It’s slow tonight.  Mind if I take off early?”

Debbie turned with a smile that faded when she saw his face.  “What’s wrong, Sunshine?” she leaned on the counter, ruffled when he glanced away.  “Is Brian on the downslide again?”

“No,” Justin stared hard.  “He had another job interview, and I want to be home…when he gets back.” Justin looked down.  Debbie’s fingertips lifted his chin.

“Honey, you can’t be his keeper.”

Before Justin could respond, Ben and Michael strolled in, drawing Debbie’s attention.

“Hi, Mom,  Justin,” Michael smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.  What brings YOU two in tonight?”

Michael discreetly nudged Ben’s leg with his fist and Ben had to think quick.

“Oh…uh…we came to see what the Special is,” he looked at Justin, “Why don’t you…show us to your station and fill us in,” with that big superhero grin.

Justin looked at Debbie, she raised her brows, “You heard the customer.”

Justin’s lips thinned at her refusal to let him go but he recovered with a put-on smile.  “Sure,” he looked at Michael, “This way.”

Debbie grabbed Ben’s sleeve, whispered, “He’s stuck in Brian’s dumps.  Tell him to spend more time with his friends.”

Ben nodded, turned away with a blown breath.  The Novotny interference-double-play caught him again.  He sat at the table across from Michael with Justin standing poised and ready with his checkbook.

Michael shot Ben a look, slid from his seat.  “Hey Justin?  Keep him company for a minute.  I have to talk to my Mom about…something,” he pressed a hand on Justin’s shoulder to seat him then he fired away, leaving Justin wondering.

Ben calmly folded his hands on the table.  “I haven’t talked to you in awhile.  So are you back in school yet?”

Michael led Debbie with a head nod to the far end of the counter.  Once there, she came around, framed his face in her hands and beamed, “Don’t ever let anybody tell you you’re not the fucking smartest man on earth.”

“Mom,” Michael pushed her hands away, “You’re saying that to the wrong man.  But while we’re at it, keep talking.  We have to make this look legit.”

“Oh.  Well.  Let me tell you what your Uncle Vic did today.  He-”

The Cook broke in with three loud DINGS on the call bell.

“Can’t you see we’re fucking TALKING?” Deb punched a hand on her hip.

Familiar with Deb’s mouth, Cook drolled, “Michael.  You got a special delivery in the alley.  Pronto.”

“What?” Michael’s brows knit.

They were joined by a Burly Bear who jawed at Debbie, “Is anybody serving in this place?”

“Hold your balls.  I’ll be right there,” she turned back to Michael but he was gone.

Michael stepped out the back door into the shadowy alley, looked around and saw a thin kid step from behind the dumpster.

“Hunter?” he nearly shrieked, “What the FUCK are you DOING here?”

“What the fuck is TAKING you so long?” Hunter bit back, flipped his hair from his eyes, “Do you realize how many fucking counselors are trying to brainwash me into loving my bitch Mom?”

Michael glanced around quickly, grabbed Hunter’s shoulders moved him into a corner beside the dumpster and shielded view with his own body.  “Do YOU realize how much fucking TROUBLE we could get into if anybody caught you here?  How the hell did you get out?”

“Two blowjobs does wonders.”

“I don’t wanna hear this,” Michael shook his head.

“You ASKED me.”

“You have to go back.”

“How long?”

“Look,” Michael calmed down.  “We have a plan, but-”

“-it takes time for things to work out,” Ben eyed Justin, “Don’t you think Brian would rather see you going out with your friends than staying at the Loft all the time?”

“But I’m working on a special project, and all my stuff is there,” Justin raised his brows.

“Are you sure that’s all?” Ben watched Justin’s evasive eyes, lowered his voice.  “Justin, if there’s something else going on-”

“-I want you to believe that no matter what, we’re always here for you, okay?” Michael held Hunter’s eyes until Hunter grudgingly nodded.  “Now I want you to go back and STAY there, or this plan might not work.  Do you understand?”

Hunter nodded again with a hung-down face.

“We love you,” Michael backed off, finally got a little smile before Hunter turned and slinked away.

“And don’t pick up any spare cash on the way,” Michael added.

Hunter’s only response was a despondent raised hand.

Michael returned to Ben’s table but wasn’t able to hide a grim face that drew Ben’s knit brows.  Debbie tailed Michael in.  Seeing his chance, Justin launched from the booth to roadblock Debbie and let Michael slide into the vacated seat.

“Please?” Justin softly begged her.

Debbie shifted pained eyes from one side to the other before giving a reluctant nod.

“Thank you!” Justin shot away, stopping only to remove his apron and fling it on the counter before dashing out the door.

Debbie leaned a palm on the table, looked from one to the other.  “Now does anybody want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Ben leaned back, “Justin was expelled because of the Vangard deal.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Debbie bit her lip.  “No wonder he’s been so down.”

Debbie beaded on Michael.  “And where the hell did YOU go?”

Michael looked up, fidgeted locked hands.  “Hunter was out back.”

Two excited “What?”s from Debbie and Ben before Michael continued, “He’s getting antsy and wants to know when we’re getting him out.”

“Is he still here?” Ben gripped the seatback to dash out.

“I told him to go back.  Practically ripped the heart out of him,” Michael stared at the table.  “We have to do something before he decides to sneak out again and run.”

“That poor kid,” Debbie looked off.  “No more fucking paperwork.  I’m doing what Brian said.”

Having trooped in unnoticed, Brian slid into the booth behind Ben, looked up at Debbie,  “You mean you actually listened to me?”

Debbie pursed her lips and smacked him in the head.

“Ow,” he hand-brushed his hair into place, “You know, there ARE special establishments for that kind of play.”

“That was for not keeping an eye on Sunshine when he was working at Vangard.  Why didn’t you tell me he was expelled?  Poor kid’s bordering on depression.  If he already isn’t there.”  Debbie looked up at Burly Bear’s raised hand.  “Excuse me,” she toned professionally and went to investigate.

“Something else,” Ben mumbled low.

Brian side-glanced, “What?”

Ben blew a breath, swiveled to face Brian.  “I think he’s worried about you being out of work and maybe, just maybe, thinks he’s responsible.”

“But I’m NOT out of work,” Brian raised a brow that drew their combined surprised looks.  “As of Saturday, I’m starting a new job.”  His eyes scanned the Diner for Justin.

“That’s great,” Michael lit, “Which Agency?”

“Turner Lumber.”

“A lumber yard?” Michael’s face twisted.

“I decided to cancel my membership at the Gym and put my energy into something more constructive,” his eyes wandered again, not noticing Ben and Michael exchanging looks.  Their silence questioned his sincerity.  “I was due for a temporary change,” he smiled to relieve their shock.  “That’s why I stopped by.  To tell Justin.  Where is he, anyway?”

Ben and Michael traded looks before Michael said, “He took off a few minutes before you got here.”

“I think he might be headed back to the Loft,” Ben offered.

“Thanks,” Brian nodded, swung to a stand and walked past Debbie taking an order.

“Hold it,” she stopped him on command, “Justin hasn’t had dinner yet,” she glared at Brian as she wrote and toned, “Two Specials on the house.  And you’re not going back without ‘em.”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” Brian rolled his tongue against his cheek and slouched against the counter, watched Debbie thunder to the pickup station.

Justin opened the Loft door, saw faint light. “Brian?”

Scott answered, “He’s not back yet.”

Justin gave a disappointed sigh, stopped past the hall, looked toward the night-darkened windows and saw Scott in his own clothes, sitting on the floor and attaching computer cables to units he’d placed on the bar cart.  “What are you doing?” Justin paced over to investigate. “You’re not supposed to use that arm.”

“I got bored, it’s fine and hand me that screwdriver,” Scott nodded at the item on the floor near Justin’s feet.

Justin kicked it to stop within Scott’s reach.

Scott stared at it, then Justin.  “I think we got off to a bad start.  So what if we backed up and tried again?”  He stood tall, winced slightly as he extended his right hand.  “Scott Turner.  And you are?”  Justin didn’t move.  “You made yourself clear.  I’ll respect that.”

Justin hesitated, shook his hand.  “Justin Taylor.”  A firm, large hand that DID let go.

“Nice to meet you,” Scott smiled, returned to the back of the computer, watched his work as he talked.  “I have a system similar to this at home.  You pick it out?”

“A salesman helped,” Justin moved closer, curious.  “I wanted to do that myself so I could learn about it.”

“It’s not that hard,” Scott looked up, waved him over, saw his eyes flick off uncertain.  “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll stand back there,” Scott nodded to the kitchen counter, “But then you’ll have to guess what cable I’m talking about.”

Justin stared a moment.  Scott seemed less aggressive in jeans and long-sleeved shirt.  More like a regular guy than a stud on the make.  “You look like you know what you’re doing,” Justin edged closer and dropped to his knees.

“Everybody has a passion.  Mine is wires,” Scott smiled off.  “Ever since I was a kid.”  He looked at Justin’s tilted head.  “I know.  What a bizarre thing for a kid to like, hunh?”

“No,” Justin shook his head, “I think it’s great that you knew what you wanted and that you’re still doing it now.  That’s what passion is all about.  Knowing from the beginning…that’s what you were meant to do…and nothing else could ever be more right.”

“Like your art?”

Justin’s eyes brightened, “Yeah,” before he looked down in a small blush.

“Well, this is MY art.”

Justin watched Scott’s fingers ease along a cable.  Then Scott pulled it free-falling to the floor.  Another.  “What are you doing!”

“Teaching you my art.  You said you wanted to learn.”

Justin took in Scott’s smile.  It looked open, warm and added a depth of humanity to his attractive face.  A layer he hadn’t seen before.  Brian was like that.  Hidden behind an image most of the time.  Maybe Scott wasn’t so bad after all.  “Okay,” Justin slapped his hands on his thighs, “Where do we start?”

We already have, Scott picked up a handful of manuals, held them out to Justin, “One step at a time.”

Brian just cleared the last step onto the Loft landing when the door opened to Scott’s back.  He saw Justin standing close, smiling up at Scott.

“Brian!” Justin glowed.

Scott whirled around, “So how’d it go?”

“Apparently very well,” Brian looked from one to the other, added a smile over a spark of tension when he caught Justin’s smile flicker at Scott.  “Are you coming or going?” Brian raised a brow at Scott’s dress.

“Heading home,” Scott stepped out to let Brian enter.  “I have to catch up on a few…things.”  He tossed Justin a last smile, “Call me if you have any questions,” then lightly smacked Brian’s passing arm and said low, “You, too,” before he trudged down the stairs.

Brian held a brief suspect eye on Scott, slammed the door, turned around and was trapped against it by Justin’s surging body – arms around his neck and a hard kiss.

“Mm,” Justin pulled back, “We finally have the Loft to ourselves.”

“And dinner for two, but I’ll pass,” Brian kept it light, handed his bag to Justin, “So what happened?  One minute Scott’s the devil, next, you look like old friends.”

Justin walked to the kitchen, Brian following.  “If you get past his act, he’s actually a decent guy,” he put the bag in the fridge.  “You know, the kind who does the right thing when you least expect it.” 

“Scott’s good at doing what you least expect.”

“He helped me hook up my system,” Justin pointed to the equipment neatly organized beside his easel.

“And you can help me hook up mine,” Brian slinked close, pulled him into an embrace.  “I got the job, and I need you to join me in the shower for a little celebration.”

“What company?” Justin beamed excited.

“Turner Construction,” Brian took Justin’s hand, led him around the counter to the bedroom.

Justin froze on the bottom step.  “You’re working for SCOTT?”

“Not Scott,” Brian turned, face twisting.  He KNEW Justin wasn’t going to take this well. “His brother Dave.  Turner Lumber Division.”

“Doing WHAT?”

Brian stepped down to the floor so their eyes were even.  “It’s a loading dock,” Brian heard Justin’s breath, stopped the headshake with his framing hands, a deep look, “It’s a job.  The benefits are good.  And it’s only temporary.  Now do we celebrate?  Or talk it to death?”

Justin watched Brian’s shifting eyes.  A done deal, discussion closed.  Whatever you think is right for you, Justin blinked, tilted his head and pressed his lips to Brian’s in a soft kiss.  You’re probably thinking right now, you really don’t want that job.

Brian licked Justin’s ear.  “In one more minute I’m fucking you on the stairs.”

Okay.  So maybe you’ll think about it later.  Justin grabbed Brian’s shirtsleeve and took the lead.  A fleet shiver ran through him at the bathroom doorway.  But it only lasted a second.

Justin and Brian get it on in the shower.

Song: “Blue Collar” by Bachman Turner Overdrive

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