Breakneck (17/18)
Title: Breakneck Author: methylethyl Rating: NC-17 Summary: Justin watches the last vestiges of support crumble beneath his feet, sending him into freefall. He can only close his eyes and pray he’ll land somewhere soft. Disclaimer: QAF & Co. does not belong to me.
Breakneck
Chapter 17: Impact
Brian did come over that night, presumably after hearing my voicemail, and though we went through our usual routine of "Hi, pass the kid off, let's go fuck now", he slowed us down when we were upstairs and in my room.
"How's the hand?" he asked, pulling away from a kiss to reach for my forearm.
I glanced at my Ace-bandage-wrapped hand. "Not functional. But I'm getting there. No handcuffs for a while, though."
"Mm. Too bad." Brian let it go and leaned in to kiss me, hands going down to the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms, ignoring the slight twinge of pain that it gave me to do so, and pushed my tongue into his mouth and moved my hand down into his pants, where his erection was starting to harden against my thigh.
"I want you to fuck me," I murmured, as we broke the kiss so that Brian could pull the shirt over my head.
Brian tossed the shirt away, eyes going to my chest.
I refused to look down, wishing that he wouldn't look either. The bruises were still there, in all sorts of greens and purples, but I could move and I could definitely fuck. Those were the important things.
"You are going to fuck me, aren't you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to hide my discomfort.
"Why the hell wouldn't I?" Brian asked, finally bringing his eyes back up to look at me. "You think I drove all the way over here to visit with Deb?"
I gave him the most insolent, bratty look I could muster. "So do it already."
And Brian did.
But it wasn't our typical fuck. Which was not to say that it was bad. Just…
I don't want to use the word making love. It wasn't that. But Brian was so gentle.
He insisted that I lie on my stomach and not get up onto my hands and knees at any point. "Just let me push into you," he murmured, nipping my ear. Then he pulled my underwear down my legs with his teeth and nibbled at the inside of my thighs, moving inward just below my ass, nose brushing against my butt cheeks. He rimmed me for a little while, fingers pushing gently at my hips, and then he started to prepare me with his fingers, tongue painting wet stripes down my back as he worked.
I came twice before he actually got in me.
And when he was inside me, his thrusts weren't quick or rushed-they were long and slow like wide pencil strokes. Every push inside of me was hard and deliberate, and I found myself pinned down to the mattress, pinned down as Brian hit my prostate and then held it there for several seconds. I was incoherent. Moaning. Grabbing. Pleading. My chest was hurting, my hand was throbbing, but it was absolutely nothing compared to my desperation to come.
When I did come, it was in a wave of ecstasy that overwhelmed every single one of my senses to the point where I forgot that I existed in a corporeal body for a few seconds. The aftermath left me dizzy and fighting to breathe, and I barely registered the feeling of Brian coming inside of me. I lay on the bed, reeling, and was only vaguely disappointed when there was no great whump of Brian-weight on top of me after he'd tied off the condom.
He traced a finger down my back, lying on his side next to me. We both fit on the bed without any bodily overlap that way, though just barely.
Finally, I turned to look at him, unable to help the goofy grin on my face.
Brian rolled his eyes.
"Everything's still intact," I said happily, stretching a little. My torso was hurting, but the stretching was helping with that and I was too happy to care anyway.
"This bed's too small," Brian complained, for the thousandth time.
"So buy me a bigger one."
"I already have a bigger one. You're just never in it."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I should give Luke up for adoption so you can fuck me all the time in a properly-sized bed. Clearly, this is the solution to the problem."
"Did I say that?"
"No, but you intimated that I should spend more time at the loft, which presupposes the absence of Luke."
"You can stop using your SAT words now, you know."
I elbowed him. "Fuck off. Anyway, I thought Michael told you to stay out of Deb's house?"
"Right, because Mikey dictates my life," Brian said with a snort.
I opened my mouth to point out that Brian had acquiesced to Michael's demands two weeks ago, but decided against it. Instead, I decided to go with a more optimistic line of questioning.
"How are things with Michael?" I asked.
Brian shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Haven't spoken to him lately."
"Oh."
I'd kind of been hoping for some sort of reconciliation, now that Brian wasn't in danger of losing his job. That maybe the gravity of Brian's situation would have snapped Michael out of his self-righteous little snit. But apparently not.
"Look-fuck Mikey," Brian said suddenly.
"But he's your best friend," I protested, almost automatically.
"He was my best friend," Brian corrected, annoyed. He paused and drew in a breath, and apparently decided to elaborate. "I knew what the price was gonna be to make things work with him and Dr. Dave, and I knew that Mikey wouldn't be able to see that I did it for his own good. This is exactly what I expected to happen. I made my choice, and I don't fucking do regrets."
But I knew that he'd hoped. Brian may have logically known that Michael would never forgive him, but he'd still hoped. It was so painfully obvious.
But if Brian was going to finally put Michael behind him… I wasn't going to be the one to keep dredging it up.
"All right," I finally agreed. "Fuck Michael. Got it."
Brian hesitated. "And, you know, you don't have to give the kid up for adoption if you want to spend more time at the loft."
I rolled my eyes. "No, I'll just have to stick him with a babysitter all the time. Brian, that's not fair to Luke. I'm already spending too much time away from him with school and working at the diner."
Brian shrugged one shoulder, still looking a bit uncomfortable. "You don't have to stick him with a babysitter. Bring him with you."
I stared.
"You. You're telling me to bring a baby to the loft. More than once."
"He naps all the time, right? Just make sure he'll be asleep for a significant percentage of the time you'll be there."
I tried not to roll my eyes again. "And where's he going to sleep? Once he starts walking, that carrier is gonna be history."
"The couch?" Brian suggested.
"Are you serious?" I asked, a little afraid that he might actually be. "Do you know how dangerous that is? Babies roll in their sleep, Brian, he could roll right off! And your hardwood floors aren't exactly the best for cushioning falls, you know."
"I was joking, you twat," Brian said irritably. "We'll work something out."
"If you say so." Then I grinned, suddenly remembering something I'd been meaning to tell Brian. "Hey, you know, Luke really likes Gus."
"Why?" Brian asked, making a face. "All he does is cry and snot on himself."
"Okay, maybe not like," I allowed. "But he's completely fascinated by him. Every time I babysit for Gus, Luke can't take his eyes off of him, babbling at him and following him everywhere. He even tried to give Gus his hippo."
"Takes after you, then," Brian said, tongue in cheek. "Sees a Kinney and suddenly he can't stop staring, babbles endlessly, follows him everywhere…"
I shoved him. "I don't follow you everywhere!"
"You sat on my lap in Woody's," Brian reminded me.
Okay, so maybe I had followed him everywhere when I'd been living at home. But… Ah!
"You turned up in my school's parking lot," I shot back triumphantly. "And Sara's house. Twice."
Hah. So there.
"Two of those don't count, since Deb was all but holding me at gunpoint," Brian replied. He thought for a moment. "And the third one, you were being extenuatingly stupid, so it doesn't count either."
"Extenuatingly stupid?" I repeated indignantly.
"Another one of your SAT words. It means-"
"I know what extenuatingly means," I interrupted, tossing my head haughtily. "For your edification, I was protesting your insinuation that I acted with anything less than prime mental faculty during that time. I was acting under duress, and moreover-"
"Christ!" Brian clapped a hand over my mouth.
I snapped at it with my teeth playfully.
"You little shit-"
"Shows what-Brian!"
"-teach you to-"
"Ow!" I protested between giggles. "Ow, Brian-ow-I'm injured! Injured party here!" I yelled, waving my bandaged hand in the air.
Brian relented, snickering, but he kept his arm draped across my back.
I couldn't help the little grin on my face, and I scooted a little closer.
"Well, if you're better enough to get fucked, you're definitely better enough for Babylon," Brian said, raising his eyebrows at me.
I nodded. "I can't wait."
"You gonna turn up tonight?" he asked.
"No, I've got the late shift at the diner," I said, shaking my head. "I've got it for the rest of the week, and a whole bunch of afternoon shifts."
"That's shitty," Brian commented.
I'd kind of done it on purpose. I wanted to schedule as much work as I could during the times when Luke usually slept, because these three weeks were a precious period of time when I could spend every day with him, not just evenings and extended periods of time on the weekend, and I wanted to take advantage of that. Once the holidays were over I'd be back in school and working all the time.
I was debating whether or not to tell Brian about that, and risk him calling me pathetic or a lesbian or something, when I suddenly realized that he was moving to get out of bed.
A flash of fear that he was leaving already made me open my mouth and speak before I gave it permission to do so.
"Wait," I said, grabbing onto his arm. "I have something to ask."
Brian paused, and then sank back down on the bed. "Right. I can't fucking smoke in here anyway, I forgot."
Oh. He'd only been going for a cigarette.
Just as well, then.
"So," Brian said, raising an eyebrow. "Out with it."
I faltered for a moment, and decided that this was not a lying down conversation. This was a sitting up conversation.
I sat up, with minimal cringing and grunting on my part, and seated myself cross-legged on the bed.
Brian looked as if he were trying not to laugh.
"This is a no-laughing conversation," I said, glaring. Then I thought to add, "Also a no-making-fun-of-Justin conversation. A take-Justin-seriously conversation. A-"
"I get it," Brian interrupted.
Right.
I took in a big breath and nodded. "Okay. So, you have to know that after the last few months I've had-Dad kicking me out, Mom abandoning me, Cal shooting himself-I'm not really big on parental figures. I don't really trust any of them, not even Deb."
I waited for some caustic remark from Brian about him not being my therapist, but he just looked at me expectantly.
"But I… I trust you. More than anyone, except myself. You're the only adult who's ever treated me like an equal."
Brian's mouth opened.
"I know, I know," I said hurriedly, cutting him off. "It's misplaced and stupid and you don't even fucking like me that much. I've heard. But I do trust you, and that's the way it is, so deal with it."
"Fine, whatever, you trust me," Brian said, scowling. "Was that all you wanted to say?"
"No," I said, glaring right back. "I'm just laying groundwork."
"That doesn't bode well," Brian muttered.
I pretended not to hear him and pushed on. "So, uh, you heard that Luke's grandfather shot himself a few weeks ago, right?"
Brian nodded.
"Well, he left behind a… a pretty sizable inheritance, once you count the life insurance policy and the value of his house. And he left it to Sara, but since she's dead, it goes to his next-of-kin, which in this case is Luke."
"Right. Your kid's loaded. Get to the part where this concerns me."
I exhaled. "Well, technically, Luke isn't loaded. I am. Because he's underage, the money's going into a trust for him that only I can access until he turns eighteen."
Brian's eyes narrowed. "But you're not eighteen, either."
To my eternal frustration.
"No," I agreed. "I'm not."
"So…"
"So I need someone to act as guardian of the money until I turn eighteen. Someone I can trust." I looked at him meaningfully.
Brian stared at me for a long moment.
I bit my lip. "Would you act as guardian for the account? Please? I don't have anyone else I trust. There's not a lot involved-you just sign some paperwork to take on the guardianship, and then you sign it over to me in March when I turn eighteen. That's it. I-I could even give you a percentage, if you want."
Brian let out a long breath, and his head dropped onto the pillow.
I sat there uncertainly.
"Okay," Brian said, opening his eyes. "First of all, I don't want any of your money. I don't need it. It's yours."
I nodded quickly, suppressing the hope that had blossomed in my chest. He hadn't said yes yet.
"Second," Brian continued, "if I do this, it's with the understanding that it's not because I love you or some shit like that. And it doesn't make you my fucking boyfriend. It would be in no way construed as anything other than a business deal."
He so cared about me.
I nodded anyway.
"Third-" Brian paused. "Third…"
I waited.
"Fuck, I'll think up a third stipulation later. I'll sign the fucking papers, all right?"
The grin practically exploded on my face.
"Thank you!" I all but shouted, throwing myself at him and wrapping all available limbs around him like a barnacle. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"
"Justin," Brian said flatly.
I paused. "Yeah, okay. This kind of hurts anyway." I rolled off of him as best I could, what with the limited bed space, and then turned face him again with my biggest smile. "Seriously, though, thank you. You're saving my ass, here."
"It's a thing worth saving," Brian replied, eyes traveling down to said ass.
If it was possible, I grinned harder.
Brian cleared his throat, and made to get off the bed again. "Now, seriously, I've got to go."
A flash of disappointment made its way through my blinding happiness. "You have people coming over?"
"Not hardly," Brian snorted, grabbing his jeans. "Huge presentation for Serah-Jones Inc. I should have had it done last week, but with the fucking lawsuit, it got pushed."
I lay on the bed, watching him dress.
He'd agreed to help. He was going to sign the papers, and I wouldn't have to put Luke's inheritance-our inheritance-in the hands of someone I didn't fully trust. It was the most incredible relief to have this taken care of. And we had five days until Christmas, which had been Pam's requested deadline for getting this sorted out.
"Brian?" I said, as he was slipping his feet into his shoes.
He looked at me.
"Thank you," I said, putting in as much gratitude and relief as I could manage into the two words. It wasn't enough. "Really. Thank you."
Brian didn't look happy. "Whatever."
I winced. "Oh, come on. Don't go and be an asshole just because you think you have to compensate for-"
Brian had already stalked out of the room.
I flopped back on the bed, winced, and then sighed.
It was no matter.
Brian Kinney cared about me, whether he liked it or not.
*
"You're using too much of the passive language," I said, making another mark with my pen.
Daphne looked up, frowning. "I am not."
"You asked me to improve it," I reminded her, pointing my pen threateningly. "And I say active language would improve it."
"It sounds too… boastful," Daphne finally decided, scrunching up her nose.
"Well, duh. It's a college application essay, it's supposed to be."
"Easy for you to say."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Daphne gave me an incredulous look. "Justin, you haven't got a modest bone in your body."
"I do too!" I said, elbowing her. "I'm just very aware of all my good characteristics, that's all."
"Yeah, that's obvious enough, reading this," Daphne replied dryly, tapping her pen on my own stack of essays.
"Less passive language," I instructed, returning to my original point. "Do it. Or else."
Daphne rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly her eyes fixed on a point in space behind me.
"Oh my God, Justin!" she squealed, gripping my arm. "You didn't tell me Luke was walking!"
My head whipped around so fast that it hurt, eyes locking onto my son-
"Oh," I sighed, slumping back in my chair with relief. "God, you scared me. That's not walking, Daph, he's holding onto the couch."
"Same thing!" Daphne insisted.
I rolled my eyes. "No, it's not."
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Oh, all right. Promise me you'll tell me the moment it happens?"
I shrugged and nodded. Who the hell else did I have to call and celebrate with, anyway?
Just then the front door opened and Debbie came bursting in, the winter winds blasting in behind her before she got the door shut.
"It is colder than a witch's titty out there," Debbie declared, stomping her boots out on the rug. She glanced over at us. "You two doing homework? Aren't you on break? Oh, and there's the baby! Oh, aren't you the cute one? Look at you, making your way around the couch! Yes, look at you!"
"We're editing each others' college essays," I explained, ignoring Debbie's usual reel of baby talk that she aimed at Luke.
Debbie had set down her bags and was now peeling off her coat. "How about some hot chocolate and cookies to go with those essays, hm?"
Daphne and I glanced at each other, grinning.
"Yes, please!"
And as Debbie bustled into the kitchen, I thought that maybe I did have more than one person who would celebrate Luke's first steps.
*
Twenty-four hours and two ignored voicemails later, I was knocking on the door to Brian's loft.
He swung the door open.
"Hi!" I said brightly. "Miss me?"
Brian's eyes went to me, and then to Luke's carrier.
"You know," he grumped as he ushered me in, "you can't keep bringing the kid with you so that I won't be an asshole to you. One of these days it's not going to work."
"You could have just responded to my voicemails," I replied.
Brian grunted and rolled the door shut.
I grinned, setting Luke's carrier down on the counter and dumping the diaper bag on the ground.
"Ditched the bandage, I see," Brian observed, coming up behind me.
I nodded, lifting my still-injured hand for inspection. "Yeah. I can actually move it a bit, now."
Brian eyed my still-swollen hand doubtfully.
I wiggled my fingers a little, trying not to wince in pain, and he didn't look very impressed.
"Tell me when you're free," I ordered, abandoning my hand and steering things back on track. "Pam was hoping to get this all settled before Christmas, and it's only three days away."
"Who the fuck is Pam?" Brian asked, and despite the words his tone was more curious than demanding.
"The lawyer who's sorting through the inheritance mess Cal left behind," I told him. "She works for the city."
Brian gave me a disparaging look. "Fucking hell. I have to deal with a city lawyer? Why the fuck isn't Melanie doing it?"
I blinked. "Uh. Well. She doesn't like me very much, I don't think. And she doesn't specialize in this kind of law."
"What do you mean, she doesn't like you?" Brian asked, frowning.
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes now, and pulled the blanket off of Luke's carrier to reveal the squirming body beneath. His little hands were pushing on the buckles of his straps, and he was twisting something fierce.
Rolling my eyes slightly, I started to undo his straps-and then hurriedly caught him before he pushed himself right out of the carrier.
"Okay, so maybe she likes me," I allowed as I set Luke on the counter and unzipped his snowsuit. "But she and Lindsay definitely don't think too highly of me. They don't see much past the teenage father bit."
"Right. Like they'd leave Gus with someone they 'don't think too highly of'," Brian said sardonically.
I shook my head. "No, really. They only call me when they're desperate for a sitter."
Brian didn't respond to that, so I set Luke down and watched him immediately start pulling himself up with the help of the barstool. The sound of the fridge opening told me that Brian was getting something to drink, but I didn't look up until it suddenly occurred to me that Brian could be pulling out anything from that fridge of his, from vodka to popperz, and my head snapped up.
He just had water.
"So, when would you be free to meet?" I asked, retuning to my original question.
"You really couldn't have left that in a voice message?" Brian asked, long-suffering. "Or called my secretary?"
"I was out, anyway," I said with a shrug. "I've got to mail some stuff, and Deb needs postage stamps."
He moaned, but eventually started to wander over in the direction of the computer. "Let me check my calendar…"
"C'mon, dude," I said to Luke, taking his hand in my good one and lifting it high in the air, allowing him to cling on as he took a few shaky steps away from the stool. It was slow progress, as his steps were uncertain and occasionally he slipped and I had to pull him up, but it was one step closer to walking. We'd started doing it last night, and he was getting the hang of it.
"Today's a big day for me, you know," I said to Brian, as he drummed his fingers impatiently as the computer booted up.
His eyes flicked in my direction, which I took to be sign of immense interest.
"Today is the day I mail out all of my college applications," I announced.
Brian did actually look up at that. "Oh really?"
I nodded, taking another step forward. Luke was taking slow, wobbly steps forward, but he was gradually gaining speed as he started to get the hang of it. "Yep. Got 'em all there on the counter. Three of them are rolling admission, but the other four won't let me know until April. It's gonna kill me not to know until then."
"Which one is PIFA?" Brian asked.
I looked up, startled. "What? I'm not applying there."
"But you wanted to," Brian pointed out.
"Well, yeah," I said with a shrug. "I told you before that all I ever wanted to be was an artist. But… now I'm a father. I can't have both."
"Bullshit. If you wanted it, you could do it."
"I won't do that to Luke," I said stubbornly, as said baby took another step forward. Thankfully, Luke was concentrating enough on the walking and wasn't paying attention to the rising tensions in the room. "Being an artist isn't a stable career choice. There's no guarantee that I'll be a success, or that I won't spend fifteen years living in poverty before I finally get recognition or something, and I need to do better than that for him."
"You will do better than that," Brian said confidently. "I've seen your stuff and you're fucking talented. You'd take the art world by storm."
I blew out a frustrated breath. "Look, it's not like I have to go to art school to draw. It's not like I'm going to stop drawing just because I'm not going to PIFA."
Brian didn't even blink. "Fine. I'm adding my third stipulation to me signing the fucking whatever guardianship contract: if you want me to sign, you have to apply to PIFA, and if you get in, you have to attend."
"Do you not get it?" I demanded, abruptly letting go of Luke's hands and striding forward furiously. "Do you not understand the concept of parenthood? It doesn't matter that I want to go to PIFA, or that I want to be an artist. It doesn't matter! Do you know why? Because I won't gamble Luke's life for my dream of becoming an artist."
"Ah, but you -"
"I have to put him first!" I yelled, startling Brian into silence. "Don't you get that? My mother and father have never, not once in their lives, put me above everything else else, and I need to do that for my son. I won't have him growing up with the knowledge that I chose my dreams over his wellbeing!"
I stood there, breathing hard, almost trembling with spent fury.
Brian stared at me almost impassively. Finally, after a few long moments, he raised his eyebrows slightly. "Tell me what you want, Justin. What you want."
"I want Luke to have the best," I answered without even needing to think about it. "I want him to have everything. That's what I want, more than being an artist-more than anything."
Brian studied me for a moment longer, and then slowly nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?" I repeated, somewhat incredulous.
"I was wrong," Brian said quietly, eyes fixed on me, "when I said that Luke would be better off with some middle-aged couple in the suburbs. You remember, that morning after your dad kicked my ass?"
I nodded slowly.
"I was wrong. Kid couldn't ask for a better father than you. You… Justin, you-" Brian broke off and shook his head.
I felt a rush of emotion that came spilling out of my mouth in the form of words. "It's just that-it's-however much I may have wanted to go to PIFA, it's all irrelevant in the face of how much I want Luke to be happy," I tried to explain, feeling winded and shaky all of a sudden. "I love him so much. He's-he's mine."
"So no PIFA?" Brian asked, suddenly back to the original point.
I shook my head. "No."
Brian's eyes drifted behind me. "When did he start walking?"
I rolled my eyes as I turned my head, recalling my conversation with Daphne the other day. "Okay, for the last time, it's not walking, it's coast-"
I stopped.
Luke wasn't coasting.
I'd left him standing in the middle of the loft somewhere in my fit of anger, abandoning our walk together, but in my absence he'd just continued onward. He was taking slow, wobbly steps across the loft floor in my direction, all by himself.
I sunk to my knees, throat tightening.
"Uh. Hello?"
I abruptly remembered Brian's question, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Luke. When I spoke, my voice was hushed. "It's-he hasn't. These are his first steps."
"Oh." There was surprised silence from Brian. "Well. Holy shit."
"C'mon, Luke," I called softly, holding out my hands. "C'mon. Daddy's waiting."
From about three feet away, Luke's face split into a grin and he squealed out a happy "Dada!", only to stumble and go flying forward-
I dove out and caught him before he face-planted onto the hardwood floor, scooping him up with a delighted laugh and pulling him tight against my chest, plastering his head with kisses.
"You did it! You did it, you did it, you did it! You were walking!" I was a little bit crazy with excitement. "Oh my God-Brian, did you see that? He was walking! He's not supposed to walk for another five weeks, all the baby books said-oh my god-his first steps-"
I shut myself up before I started to make even less sense and pressed my face against the top of Luke's blond head. He was giggling and squirming with all the attention, and when I laid him down on the floor and started blowing raspberries on his belly, he was absolutely screeching with laughter.
Eventually I drew back, a huge grin on my face that could not-would not-be repressed, and ruffled his hair.
Luke lay on his back on the floor, still recovering from his laughing fit, babbling happily to himself.
Still breathless with excitement, I found myself staring at Brian. It took a few seconds for me to register the grin on his face, and the fact that his eyes were solely riveted on Luke-that was until he noticed I was staring, and his face was immediately wiped blank.
Mostly. The corners of his mouth were still twitching upwards. And after a moment's pause, he finally let a small smirk slide onto his face.
"Smart little fucker," he said, eyes going back to Luke, and there was a note of pride in his voice.
My cheeks ached from grinning.
*
I burst into Debbie's house on cloud nine.
Vic looked up from his armchair. "Someone's happy," he observed mildly.
"Luke took his first steps!" I practically shouted, throwing my hat and gloves onto the couch in my hurry to get out of my winter gear. I tossed my winter coat on top, next to the diaper bag, and set to work unbuckling Luke from his carrier. "I was over Brian's and he just started walking, it was the most amazing thing, he just started walking all by himself!"
"He's walking?" Debbie demanded, from somewhere upstairs. I heard rapid footsteps. "My baby's walking?"
"My baby's walking," I corrected, grinning like a madman as I lifted Luke up and out of his carrier. "Isn't that right, little dude? You were walking!"
"I don't believe it!" Debbie said excitedly, coming down the stairs in a rush. "When did that happen? I thought you were running to the post office!"
I shrugged. "I made a side-trip to Brian's and let him loose while we talked-I just turned my back for a moment, and he was just… walking. He was walking!"
"You mean that asshole got to see his first steps, and I didn't?" Debbie asked, sounding insulted, as though Luke had deliberately picked Brian over her as his first-steps audience. "Ooo, look, he's pulling himself up again! Is he gonna do it again?"
Luke was indeed pulling himself up on the couch, and I grabbed his hippo out of the diaper bag.
"Luke," I called, wiggling the hippo a few feet away. "Luke!"
Luke let out an excited squeal and dropped to his hands and knees, crawling over to hippo quickly.
"Or not," I muttered, dropping the hippo and letting him have it.
It was the thing about babies. They never did things when you wanted them to, especially when you were trying to show off a new trick.
Debbie, however, was much more persistent than I was and crouched down, calling Luke's name and only succeeding in getting him to crawl to her.
I exchanged looks with Vic.
"Your mother called, while you were out," Vic said. "She wants you to call her back."
I watched Luke pull himself up using the leg of the coffee table, and then push off from it on slow, unsteady feet. Debbie whooped excitedly and held out her arms, making 'gimmie' motions. Luke, delighted with attention as always, grinned happily and began to make his way over to her on unsteady feet.
"I'll call her back today," I said to Vic, not taking my eyes off of Luke.
I meant it, though. I wanted to tell her that Luke was walking, and I wanted her to be as proud of him as Debbie was.
*
Brian, Pam and I met the following afternoon in a somewhat fancy soup and sandwich place that Brian had picked because it was close to Ryder. Pam was dressed in another sharp-looking suit that clashed with the exhaustion on her face-but it wasn't the "I've had a stressful week" kind of exhaustion, it was the "I've had a stressful decade and don't see light at the end of the tunnel" kind of exhaustion. God. It did not inspire me to become a lawyer for the city of Pittsburgh at all.
Brian, though, was dressed to the nines and looked hot as hell. As always.
With both of them in their suits and me in my cargos and sweater, I looked even younger. The waitress even exclaimed over my 'baby brother' as I was putting Luke into the high chair she'd provided me.
Then Melanie showed up.
"Hey, kiddo," she said, sitting down across from me and setting her jacket on the back of her chair. Her eyes flicked to Brian. "Hi, Brian."
Brian inclined his head. "Mel."
I stared at him, confused. Pam looked confused as well, which made me feel a little less irritated. At least they weren't all pulling a coup on me.
"I hope you don't mind," Brian said casually, eyes fixed on Pam. "I brought my lawyer to look over the paperwork before I sign."
Pam looked between Melanie and Brian in surprise for a moment, and then shrugged. "Sure."
Part of me was irritated with Brian for telling Melanie about my situation without my permission, but part of me also had to admit that it was a good idea. I trusted that Pam wasn't trying to scam us or anything, but it was always a good idea to have a friendly lawyer look over things before you signed.
I was also a little surprised that Melanie would do this for me. She couldn't be doing it for Brian-unless he was paying her?
"Told you she likes you," Brian muttered into my ear, as the two lawyers began comparing work history.
I frowned. Brian probably wasn't paying her for this, then.
Irritated that he'd been right, and also still irritated that he'd told her about this without my permission, I reached over and rested a hand atop his crotch, stroking lightly. "Buy me lunch," I muttered back. "This place is expensive, you asshole."
Brian agreed, but not before grabbing my own crotch and giving me an instant boner in return. Fucker.
"So," Pam said, finally pulling out her papers and looking up.
Brian and I straightened as one, respective boners thankfully hidden.
Melanie rolled her eyes.
I settled the diaper bag over my lap and began hunting for Luke's lunch. He was sitting quietly in his high chair, currently engaged by the napkin he was tearing into tiny pieces, but I knew that if I waited another twenty minutes he'd start to get fussy for his meal.
"I trust you've been briefed on the situation, Mr. Kinney?" Pam asked.
He nodded. "If you could give the paperwork to Ms. Marcus, she'll just make sure it's in order, and then I'll sign."
Pam nodded and handed a small sheaf of papers over to Melanie, who put on her glasses began looking over them immediately.
Luke was reaching for the container of yams I'd set on the table, and I quickly busied myself with feeding him before he started making unhappy noises. Taking babies to restaurants that were not the Liberty Diner was always a risky business. Luke was usually a pretty happy baby, but even the best of babies could get set off by something and start bawling.
By the time Luke was finished with his yams, Melanie had finished the paperwork.
"It looks fine to me," she said, handing the stack to Brian. "There's X's on all the blanks you need to sign, date or initial."
"Do I have to sign anything?" I asked, feeling slightly like I had no reason for being there.
Pam and Melanie shook their heads.
"You're a minor," Melanie said, making a small face. "Your signature isn't worth much for another few months-essentially, Brian's signing everything for you."
Well, great. I really had no reason for being there.
I stifled a sigh and firmly told myself to get over it. I was done with self-pity and teenage angst, and I wasn't going to sit here and mope over the fact that I wasn't yet old enough to fully control Luke's inheritance. It was beyond my control, and I was doing everything in my power to make sure that one day it would be within my control.
We waited silently as Brian signed, dated and initialed his way through the forms.
"Dada?" Luke asked, waving his hands at me and straining out of his high chair. "Dada uh?"
I unwrapped a teething cookie for him (he'd been drooling a little more than usual as of late, and even if he didn't have a tooth coming in it would at least keep him occupied for a while) and handed it over. Luke happily clutched it in both hands and began gumming on a corner quietly.
Finally, Brian finished signing the forms, neatened the pile, and handed them back to Pam.
It was done.
Pam was looking over the forms, tearing off carbon copies here and there, and was eventually satisfied with it all. She handed a few copies over to Brian and tucked the rest away in her briefcase.
"Thank you," I said, leaning over to Brian and putting one hand between his thighs and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Brian pushed me away, rolling his eyes."Whatever."
"Not whatever," I insisted, removing my hand and gaining a bit of seriousness. I forced Brian to meet my eyes. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Brian said, scowling a little.
But I didn't miss it when, on his way out, he ruffled Luke's hair and gave his belly a quick tickle, making Luke giggle madly.
*
Later that night, I called up Melanie and decided to take a risk.
"Hey-yeah, it's Justin. Do you have a moment?" I huddled away from where Debbie and Vic were watching television on the couch. "Three things: wills, living wills, and power of attorney. Can you help me with those?"
But this time, it wasn't a leap of faith. I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I was making the right choice.
*
Everyone was stunned when Brian turned up for Deb's Christmas party.
I just sat back and grinned, bouncing Luke on my knee.
Michael looked mad enough to kick a kitten through a fan at Brian's apparent nerve, but Debbie slapped him on the back of the head before he could get a word out and sent him out back to grab another six-pack of beer. Debbie then joined Emmett, Ted and Lindsay in railing Brian for an explanation, why he'd chosen to show up for a Christmas party for the first time in years, but Brian expertly shook everyone off and slipped into the kitchen, closing in on the rum balls with alarming accuracy. Lindsay followed with Gus.
"Poor Gus," I murmured to Luke, now that Lindsay was out of hearing range. "Aren't you glad your daddy doesn't dress you in outfits like that? Daphne would buy you ridiculous little Christmas jester costumes if I let her, you know. She'd probably even like those pom-poms on his hat."
Luke blew a spit bubble at me, grinning.
I wiped at the drool on his chin and reached for the stuffed hippo next to me. I made it do a little dance for Luke, tickling him in the face every so often as I sang, "We three kings of Orient are… smoking on rubber cigars… One was load-"
"Funny," Brian's voice came from behind me suddenly, and a hand slid into my hair. "That's not how I learned it."
I look up, smirking, and continued the song. "One loaded, it explo-oded-now there's two kings of Orient are."
"Such disrespect for the church," Brian said sadly, shaking his head.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right. Like you went to mass this morning."
Brian flopped down next to me on the couch and settled an arm over my shoulders. His eyes went down to Luke. "And shouldn't this one be in bed already?"
"Not for another three hours," I said, letting the hippo go when Luke lost all interest in me upon the appearance of Brian and, therefore, a new lap for him to get acquainted with. The deal was sealed when he spotted the cowry shell bracelet around Brian's wrist. "It might be less than that, though, since he's had a long day. You wouldn't believe the loot that a baby can pull in-I don't know what it is with women and shopping for babies..."
"Are you complain-hey, kid," Brian said, his focus changing as Luke latched onto the wrist containing the cowry shell bracelet. A small smirk appeared on his face, and when he spoke, he voice was softer. "You like that?"
Luke did like it. He grinned and tugged on it with both hands.
Brian grinned and made quick work of the knot, letting the bracelet slide off and into Luke's hands.
"Careful," I warned. "Don't let him put it in his mouth."
"I do have an iota of common sense, you know," Brian said dryly, as Luke began to squirm.
"Down?" I asked him, while trying to grab the bracelet from the flailing limb.
"I'd say he wants down," Brian observed. He caught Luke easily as he rolled off of his lap, and spotted him as he slid down off the couch and onto the floor.
Luke pulled himself to his feet, clutching the bracelet tightly in one fist.
"What's he going to do with it?" Brian asked, sounding wary for the first time.
"I have no idea," I replied, watching Luke examine the bracelet in his hands. I leaned forward and held out a hand. "Luke, can I have that, please? Can you give me the bracelet?"
"Dada!" Luke said, waving his fist a little bit and grinning.
"Yes, give Dada the bracelet," I coaxed, extending my hand a little further. "Brian wants it back. That's Brian's bracelet."
But Luke had other ideas.
"Bye!" he said, waving his free hand in the air, and then he turned and started walking away unsteadily.
My mouth fell open, and even Brian's eyebrows shot up slightly.
"Well, we know where he gets that from," Brian put in amusedly, recovering as Luke toddled across the room with Brian's bracelet clutched in his hand.
"Fuck off," I said, elbowing him. "You want me to go get it for you?"
Brian shook his head. "It's fine. I'll get it back by the end of the night."
"You mean you don't want to make it a Christmas present?" I teased.
"Weren't you just complaining that he had too many already?"
"Complaining? Hell no, I'm set on baby shit for the next three months-even my mother bought him a Christmas gift, and she's still adjusting to the fact that he exists." I shrugged, leaning back against Brian while keeping an eye on Luke to make sure that he didn't start eating the bracelet. "I'd hate to see the piles of stuff Gus got."
"If the munchers ever pull their shit together, he'll be making serious bank in December," Brian agreed. "He'll get Christmas and Hanukkah presents."
"Speak of the devil," I said, raising my eyebrows as Lindsay reentered the living room with Gus.
She set Gus on the floor and started going through her diaper bag. Luke took an immediate interest in the baby on the floor, letting the bracelet drop to the floor and staring at Gus with wide, unblinking eyes and parted lips.
"I can't tell if he's staring at Gus, or at the hideous outfit Lindsay's got him wearing," Brian muttered.
"I told you, Luke thinks Gus is the greatest toy he's ever seen. He's going to follow him around all night now that he's spotted him."
"My son has a stalker. Great."
I grinned to myself and shifted, watching Luke walk over to Gus. It was amazing that he was walking-it really was. It seemed like only yesterday that I'd held him in the waiting room as the doctors tried to save Sara's life. He'd barely been crawling at that point. But now he was walking and talking and…
God.
"How are you healing up?" Brian asked.
"I can move my hand," I said proudly, holding it up and wiggling my fingers, with minimal wincing. The back of my hand was a mess of darkened bruising now, and it hurt to move, but I was slowly regaining functionality. "My chest is good, too. It was a rough week, but I'm almost all healed up and ready to take on the world again."
"That's right," Brian said, now smirking. "You've got your 'plan'."
I beamed. "My plan!"
"Plan?" Emmett asked, butting into the conversation.
I grinned at him madly. "I have a plan," I informed him. "And it's a good plan. It's a really good plan. In fact, my plan is better than your plan."
Emmett blinked. "I don't have a plan."
"Exactly."
Emmett stared at me in bewilderment, and I continued to give him the shiniest smile I could manage. To my left, Brian was putting obvious effort into not cracking up.
"Right," Emmett finally said. "You know, I think I'm going to go refill my wine. You two want anything?"
After he left, I let my smile fade a bit and settled my gaze on Luke, who was currently investigating one of the toys that Lindsay had laid out for Gus. My son was happy. Debbie and Vic were cooking up a storm in the kitchen for Christmas dinner, I'd seen Daphne just last night, Mom had dropped by earlier in the day for an hour or so, and Brian was here at my side tonight.
I might have been in freefall for the last few months, but I'd managed to find a somewhat soft place to land in the end. I'd survived. I was a survivor.
I was a survivor.
Brian nudged me from behind. "Hey. If you're not going to give me a lap dance, move. I don't fucking cuddle."
I smirked and nestled a little closer. "You do now."
And that was that.
Epilogue
Breakneck
Chapter 17: Impact
Brian did come over that night, presumably after hearing my voicemail, and though we went through our usual routine of "Hi, pass the kid off, let's go fuck now", he slowed us down when we were upstairs and in my room.
"How's the hand?" he asked, pulling away from a kiss to reach for my forearm.
I glanced at my Ace-bandage-wrapped hand. "Not functional. But I'm getting there. No handcuffs for a while, though."
"Mm. Too bad." Brian let it go and leaned in to kiss me, hands going down to the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms, ignoring the slight twinge of pain that it gave me to do so, and pushed my tongue into his mouth and moved my hand down into his pants, where his erection was starting to harden against my thigh.
"I want you to fuck me," I murmured, as we broke the kiss so that Brian could pull the shirt over my head.
Brian tossed the shirt away, eyes going to my chest.
I refused to look down, wishing that he wouldn't look either. The bruises were still there, in all sorts of greens and purples, but I could move and I could definitely fuck. Those were the important things.
"You are going to fuck me, aren't you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to hide my discomfort.
"Why the hell wouldn't I?" Brian asked, finally bringing his eyes back up to look at me. "You think I drove all the way over here to visit with Deb?"
I gave him the most insolent, bratty look I could muster. "So do it already."
And Brian did.
But it wasn't our typical fuck. Which was not to say that it was bad. Just…
I don't want to use the word making love. It wasn't that. But Brian was so gentle.
He insisted that I lie on my stomach and not get up onto my hands and knees at any point. "Just let me push into you," he murmured, nipping my ear. Then he pulled my underwear down my legs with his teeth and nibbled at the inside of my thighs, moving inward just below my ass, nose brushing against my butt cheeks. He rimmed me for a little while, fingers pushing gently at my hips, and then he started to prepare me with his fingers, tongue painting wet stripes down my back as he worked.
I came twice before he actually got in me.
And when he was inside me, his thrusts weren't quick or rushed-they were long and slow like wide pencil strokes. Every push inside of me was hard and deliberate, and I found myself pinned down to the mattress, pinned down as Brian hit my prostate and then held it there for several seconds. I was incoherent. Moaning. Grabbing. Pleading. My chest was hurting, my hand was throbbing, but it was absolutely nothing compared to my desperation to come.
When I did come, it was in a wave of ecstasy that overwhelmed every single one of my senses to the point where I forgot that I existed in a corporeal body for a few seconds. The aftermath left me dizzy and fighting to breathe, and I barely registered the feeling of Brian coming inside of me. I lay on the bed, reeling, and was only vaguely disappointed when there was no great whump of Brian-weight on top of me after he'd tied off the condom.
He traced a finger down my back, lying on his side next to me. We both fit on the bed without any bodily overlap that way, though just barely.
Finally, I turned to look at him, unable to help the goofy grin on my face.
Brian rolled his eyes.
"Everything's still intact," I said happily, stretching a little. My torso was hurting, but the stretching was helping with that and I was too happy to care anyway.
"This bed's too small," Brian complained, for the thousandth time.
"So buy me a bigger one."
"I already have a bigger one. You're just never in it."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I should give Luke up for adoption so you can fuck me all the time in a properly-sized bed. Clearly, this is the solution to the problem."
"Did I say that?"
"No, but you intimated that I should spend more time at the loft, which presupposes the absence of Luke."
"You can stop using your SAT words now, you know."
I elbowed him. "Fuck off. Anyway, I thought Michael told you to stay out of Deb's house?"
"Right, because Mikey dictates my life," Brian said with a snort.
I opened my mouth to point out that Brian had acquiesced to Michael's demands two weeks ago, but decided against it. Instead, I decided to go with a more optimistic line of questioning.
"How are things with Michael?" I asked.
Brian shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Haven't spoken to him lately."
"Oh."
I'd kind of been hoping for some sort of reconciliation, now that Brian wasn't in danger of losing his job. That maybe the gravity of Brian's situation would have snapped Michael out of his self-righteous little snit. But apparently not.
"Look-fuck Mikey," Brian said suddenly.
"But he's your best friend," I protested, almost automatically.
"He was my best friend," Brian corrected, annoyed. He paused and drew in a breath, and apparently decided to elaborate. "I knew what the price was gonna be to make things work with him and Dr. Dave, and I knew that Mikey wouldn't be able to see that I did it for his own good. This is exactly what I expected to happen. I made my choice, and I don't fucking do regrets."
But I knew that he'd hoped. Brian may have logically known that Michael would never forgive him, but he'd still hoped. It was so painfully obvious.
But if Brian was going to finally put Michael behind him… I wasn't going to be the one to keep dredging it up.
"All right," I finally agreed. "Fuck Michael. Got it."
Brian hesitated. "And, you know, you don't have to give the kid up for adoption if you want to spend more time at the loft."
I rolled my eyes. "No, I'll just have to stick him with a babysitter all the time. Brian, that's not fair to Luke. I'm already spending too much time away from him with school and working at the diner."
Brian shrugged one shoulder, still looking a bit uncomfortable. "You don't have to stick him with a babysitter. Bring him with you."
I stared.
"You. You're telling me to bring a baby to the loft. More than once."
"He naps all the time, right? Just make sure he'll be asleep for a significant percentage of the time you'll be there."
I tried not to roll my eyes again. "And where's he going to sleep? Once he starts walking, that carrier is gonna be history."
"The couch?" Brian suggested.
"Are you serious?" I asked, a little afraid that he might actually be. "Do you know how dangerous that is? Babies roll in their sleep, Brian, he could roll right off! And your hardwood floors aren't exactly the best for cushioning falls, you know."
"I was joking, you twat," Brian said irritably. "We'll work something out."
"If you say so." Then I grinned, suddenly remembering something I'd been meaning to tell Brian. "Hey, you know, Luke really likes Gus."
"Why?" Brian asked, making a face. "All he does is cry and snot on himself."
"Okay, maybe not like," I allowed. "But he's completely fascinated by him. Every time I babysit for Gus, Luke can't take his eyes off of him, babbling at him and following him everywhere. He even tried to give Gus his hippo."
"Takes after you, then," Brian said, tongue in cheek. "Sees a Kinney and suddenly he can't stop staring, babbles endlessly, follows him everywhere…"
I shoved him. "I don't follow you everywhere!"
"You sat on my lap in Woody's," Brian reminded me.
Okay, so maybe I had followed him everywhere when I'd been living at home. But… Ah!
"You turned up in my school's parking lot," I shot back triumphantly. "And Sara's house. Twice."
Hah. So there.
"Two of those don't count, since Deb was all but holding me at gunpoint," Brian replied. He thought for a moment. "And the third one, you were being extenuatingly stupid, so it doesn't count either."
"Extenuatingly stupid?" I repeated indignantly.
"Another one of your SAT words. It means-"
"I know what extenuatingly means," I interrupted, tossing my head haughtily. "For your edification, I was protesting your insinuation that I acted with anything less than prime mental faculty during that time. I was acting under duress, and moreover-"
"Christ!" Brian clapped a hand over my mouth.
I snapped at it with my teeth playfully.
"You little shit-"
"Shows what-Brian!"
"-teach you to-"
"Ow!" I protested between giggles. "Ow, Brian-ow-I'm injured! Injured party here!" I yelled, waving my bandaged hand in the air.
Brian relented, snickering, but he kept his arm draped across my back.
I couldn't help the little grin on my face, and I scooted a little closer.
"Well, if you're better enough to get fucked, you're definitely better enough for Babylon," Brian said, raising his eyebrows at me.
I nodded. "I can't wait."
"You gonna turn up tonight?" he asked.
"No, I've got the late shift at the diner," I said, shaking my head. "I've got it for the rest of the week, and a whole bunch of afternoon shifts."
"That's shitty," Brian commented.
I'd kind of done it on purpose. I wanted to schedule as much work as I could during the times when Luke usually slept, because these three weeks were a precious period of time when I could spend every day with him, not just evenings and extended periods of time on the weekend, and I wanted to take advantage of that. Once the holidays were over I'd be back in school and working all the time.
I was debating whether or not to tell Brian about that, and risk him calling me pathetic or a lesbian or something, when I suddenly realized that he was moving to get out of bed.
A flash of fear that he was leaving already made me open my mouth and speak before I gave it permission to do so.
"Wait," I said, grabbing onto his arm. "I have something to ask."
Brian paused, and then sank back down on the bed. "Right. I can't fucking smoke in here anyway, I forgot."
Oh. He'd only been going for a cigarette.
Just as well, then.
"So," Brian said, raising an eyebrow. "Out with it."
I faltered for a moment, and decided that this was not a lying down conversation. This was a sitting up conversation.
I sat up, with minimal cringing and grunting on my part, and seated myself cross-legged on the bed.
Brian looked as if he were trying not to laugh.
"This is a no-laughing conversation," I said, glaring. Then I thought to add, "Also a no-making-fun-of-Justin conversation. A take-Justin-seriously conversation. A-"
"I get it," Brian interrupted.
Right.
I took in a big breath and nodded. "Okay. So, you have to know that after the last few months I've had-Dad kicking me out, Mom abandoning me, Cal shooting himself-I'm not really big on parental figures. I don't really trust any of them, not even Deb."
I waited for some caustic remark from Brian about him not being my therapist, but he just looked at me expectantly.
"But I… I trust you. More than anyone, except myself. You're the only adult who's ever treated me like an equal."
Brian's mouth opened.
"I know, I know," I said hurriedly, cutting him off. "It's misplaced and stupid and you don't even fucking like me that much. I've heard. But I do trust you, and that's the way it is, so deal with it."
"Fine, whatever, you trust me," Brian said, scowling. "Was that all you wanted to say?"
"No," I said, glaring right back. "I'm just laying groundwork."
"That doesn't bode well," Brian muttered.
I pretended not to hear him and pushed on. "So, uh, you heard that Luke's grandfather shot himself a few weeks ago, right?"
Brian nodded.
"Well, he left behind a… a pretty sizable inheritance, once you count the life insurance policy and the value of his house. And he left it to Sara, but since she's dead, it goes to his next-of-kin, which in this case is Luke."
"Right. Your kid's loaded. Get to the part where this concerns me."
I exhaled. "Well, technically, Luke isn't loaded. I am. Because he's underage, the money's going into a trust for him that only I can access until he turns eighteen."
Brian's eyes narrowed. "But you're not eighteen, either."
To my eternal frustration.
"No," I agreed. "I'm not."
"So…"
"So I need someone to act as guardian of the money until I turn eighteen. Someone I can trust." I looked at him meaningfully.
Brian stared at me for a long moment.
I bit my lip. "Would you act as guardian for the account? Please? I don't have anyone else I trust. There's not a lot involved-you just sign some paperwork to take on the guardianship, and then you sign it over to me in March when I turn eighteen. That's it. I-I could even give you a percentage, if you want."
Brian let out a long breath, and his head dropped onto the pillow.
I sat there uncertainly.
"Okay," Brian said, opening his eyes. "First of all, I don't want any of your money. I don't need it. It's yours."
I nodded quickly, suppressing the hope that had blossomed in my chest. He hadn't said yes yet.
"Second," Brian continued, "if I do this, it's with the understanding that it's not because I love you or some shit like that. And it doesn't make you my fucking boyfriend. It would be in no way construed as anything other than a business deal."
He so cared about me.
I nodded anyway.
"Third-" Brian paused. "Third…"
I waited.
"Fuck, I'll think up a third stipulation later. I'll sign the fucking papers, all right?"
The grin practically exploded on my face.
"Thank you!" I all but shouted, throwing myself at him and wrapping all available limbs around him like a barnacle. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"
"Justin," Brian said flatly.
I paused. "Yeah, okay. This kind of hurts anyway." I rolled off of him as best I could, what with the limited bed space, and then turned face him again with my biggest smile. "Seriously, though, thank you. You're saving my ass, here."
"It's a thing worth saving," Brian replied, eyes traveling down to said ass.
If it was possible, I grinned harder.
Brian cleared his throat, and made to get off the bed again. "Now, seriously, I've got to go."
A flash of disappointment made its way through my blinding happiness. "You have people coming over?"
"Not hardly," Brian snorted, grabbing his jeans. "Huge presentation for Serah-Jones Inc. I should have had it done last week, but with the fucking lawsuit, it got pushed."
I lay on the bed, watching him dress.
He'd agreed to help. He was going to sign the papers, and I wouldn't have to put Luke's inheritance-our inheritance-in the hands of someone I didn't fully trust. It was the most incredible relief to have this taken care of. And we had five days until Christmas, which had been Pam's requested deadline for getting this sorted out.
"Brian?" I said, as he was slipping his feet into his shoes.
He looked at me.
"Thank you," I said, putting in as much gratitude and relief as I could manage into the two words. It wasn't enough. "Really. Thank you."
Brian didn't look happy. "Whatever."
I winced. "Oh, come on. Don't go and be an asshole just because you think you have to compensate for-"
Brian had already stalked out of the room.
I flopped back on the bed, winced, and then sighed.
It was no matter.
Brian Kinney cared about me, whether he liked it or not.
*
"You're using too much of the passive language," I said, making another mark with my pen.
Daphne looked up, frowning. "I am not."
"You asked me to improve it," I reminded her, pointing my pen threateningly. "And I say active language would improve it."
"It sounds too… boastful," Daphne finally decided, scrunching up her nose.
"Well, duh. It's a college application essay, it's supposed to be."
"Easy for you to say."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Daphne gave me an incredulous look. "Justin, you haven't got a modest bone in your body."
"I do too!" I said, elbowing her. "I'm just very aware of all my good characteristics, that's all."
"Yeah, that's obvious enough, reading this," Daphne replied dryly, tapping her pen on my own stack of essays.
"Less passive language," I instructed, returning to my original point. "Do it. Or else."
Daphne rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly her eyes fixed on a point in space behind me.
"Oh my God, Justin!" she squealed, gripping my arm. "You didn't tell me Luke was walking!"
My head whipped around so fast that it hurt, eyes locking onto my son-
"Oh," I sighed, slumping back in my chair with relief. "God, you scared me. That's not walking, Daph, he's holding onto the couch."
"Same thing!" Daphne insisted.
I rolled my eyes. "No, it's not."
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Oh, all right. Promise me you'll tell me the moment it happens?"
I shrugged and nodded. Who the hell else did I have to call and celebrate with, anyway?
Just then the front door opened and Debbie came bursting in, the winter winds blasting in behind her before she got the door shut.
"It is colder than a witch's titty out there," Debbie declared, stomping her boots out on the rug. She glanced over at us. "You two doing homework? Aren't you on break? Oh, and there's the baby! Oh, aren't you the cute one? Look at you, making your way around the couch! Yes, look at you!"
"We're editing each others' college essays," I explained, ignoring Debbie's usual reel of baby talk that she aimed at Luke.
Debbie had set down her bags and was now peeling off her coat. "How about some hot chocolate and cookies to go with those essays, hm?"
Daphne and I glanced at each other, grinning.
"Yes, please!"
And as Debbie bustled into the kitchen, I thought that maybe I did have more than one person who would celebrate Luke's first steps.
*
Twenty-four hours and two ignored voicemails later, I was knocking on the door to Brian's loft.
He swung the door open.
"Hi!" I said brightly. "Miss me?"
Brian's eyes went to me, and then to Luke's carrier.
"You know," he grumped as he ushered me in, "you can't keep bringing the kid with you so that I won't be an asshole to you. One of these days it's not going to work."
"You could have just responded to my voicemails," I replied.
Brian grunted and rolled the door shut.
I grinned, setting Luke's carrier down on the counter and dumping the diaper bag on the ground.
"Ditched the bandage, I see," Brian observed, coming up behind me.
I nodded, lifting my still-injured hand for inspection. "Yeah. I can actually move it a bit, now."
Brian eyed my still-swollen hand doubtfully.
I wiggled my fingers a little, trying not to wince in pain, and he didn't look very impressed.
"Tell me when you're free," I ordered, abandoning my hand and steering things back on track. "Pam was hoping to get this all settled before Christmas, and it's only three days away."
"Who the fuck is Pam?" Brian asked, and despite the words his tone was more curious than demanding.
"The lawyer who's sorting through the inheritance mess Cal left behind," I told him. "She works for the city."
Brian gave me a disparaging look. "Fucking hell. I have to deal with a city lawyer? Why the fuck isn't Melanie doing it?"
I blinked. "Uh. Well. She doesn't like me very much, I don't think. And she doesn't specialize in this kind of law."
"What do you mean, she doesn't like you?" Brian asked, frowning.
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes now, and pulled the blanket off of Luke's carrier to reveal the squirming body beneath. His little hands were pushing on the buckles of his straps, and he was twisting something fierce.
Rolling my eyes slightly, I started to undo his straps-and then hurriedly caught him before he pushed himself right out of the carrier.
"Okay, so maybe she likes me," I allowed as I set Luke on the counter and unzipped his snowsuit. "But she and Lindsay definitely don't think too highly of me. They don't see much past the teenage father bit."
"Right. Like they'd leave Gus with someone they 'don't think too highly of'," Brian said sardonically.
I shook my head. "No, really. They only call me when they're desperate for a sitter."
Brian didn't respond to that, so I set Luke down and watched him immediately start pulling himself up with the help of the barstool. The sound of the fridge opening told me that Brian was getting something to drink, but I didn't look up until it suddenly occurred to me that Brian could be pulling out anything from that fridge of his, from vodka to popperz, and my head snapped up.
He just had water.
"So, when would you be free to meet?" I asked, retuning to my original question.
"You really couldn't have left that in a voice message?" Brian asked, long-suffering. "Or called my secretary?"
"I was out, anyway," I said with a shrug. "I've got to mail some stuff, and Deb needs postage stamps."
He moaned, but eventually started to wander over in the direction of the computer. "Let me check my calendar…"
"C'mon, dude," I said to Luke, taking his hand in my good one and lifting it high in the air, allowing him to cling on as he took a few shaky steps away from the stool. It was slow progress, as his steps were uncertain and occasionally he slipped and I had to pull him up, but it was one step closer to walking. We'd started doing it last night, and he was getting the hang of it.
"Today's a big day for me, you know," I said to Brian, as he drummed his fingers impatiently as the computer booted up.
His eyes flicked in my direction, which I took to be sign of immense interest.
"Today is the day I mail out all of my college applications," I announced.
Brian did actually look up at that. "Oh really?"
I nodded, taking another step forward. Luke was taking slow, wobbly steps forward, but he was gradually gaining speed as he started to get the hang of it. "Yep. Got 'em all there on the counter. Three of them are rolling admission, but the other four won't let me know until April. It's gonna kill me not to know until then."
"Which one is PIFA?" Brian asked.
I looked up, startled. "What? I'm not applying there."
"But you wanted to," Brian pointed out.
"Well, yeah," I said with a shrug. "I told you before that all I ever wanted to be was an artist. But… now I'm a father. I can't have both."
"Bullshit. If you wanted it, you could do it."
"I won't do that to Luke," I said stubbornly, as said baby took another step forward. Thankfully, Luke was concentrating enough on the walking and wasn't paying attention to the rising tensions in the room. "Being an artist isn't a stable career choice. There's no guarantee that I'll be a success, or that I won't spend fifteen years living in poverty before I finally get recognition or something, and I need to do better than that for him."
"You will do better than that," Brian said confidently. "I've seen your stuff and you're fucking talented. You'd take the art world by storm."
I blew out a frustrated breath. "Look, it's not like I have to go to art school to draw. It's not like I'm going to stop drawing just because I'm not going to PIFA."
Brian didn't even blink. "Fine. I'm adding my third stipulation to me signing the fucking whatever guardianship contract: if you want me to sign, you have to apply to PIFA, and if you get in, you have to attend."
"Do you not get it?" I demanded, abruptly letting go of Luke's hands and striding forward furiously. "Do you not understand the concept of parenthood? It doesn't matter that I want to go to PIFA, or that I want to be an artist. It doesn't matter! Do you know why? Because I won't gamble Luke's life for my dream of becoming an artist."
"Ah, but you -"
"I have to put him first!" I yelled, startling Brian into silence. "Don't you get that? My mother and father have never, not once in their lives, put me above everything else else, and I need to do that for my son. I won't have him growing up with the knowledge that I chose my dreams over his wellbeing!"
I stood there, breathing hard, almost trembling with spent fury.
Brian stared at me almost impassively. Finally, after a few long moments, he raised his eyebrows slightly. "Tell me what you want, Justin. What you want."
"I want Luke to have the best," I answered without even needing to think about it. "I want him to have everything. That's what I want, more than being an artist-more than anything."
Brian studied me for a moment longer, and then slowly nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?" I repeated, somewhat incredulous.
"I was wrong," Brian said quietly, eyes fixed on me, "when I said that Luke would be better off with some middle-aged couple in the suburbs. You remember, that morning after your dad kicked my ass?"
I nodded slowly.
"I was wrong. Kid couldn't ask for a better father than you. You… Justin, you-" Brian broke off and shook his head.
I felt a rush of emotion that came spilling out of my mouth in the form of words. "It's just that-it's-however much I may have wanted to go to PIFA, it's all irrelevant in the face of how much I want Luke to be happy," I tried to explain, feeling winded and shaky all of a sudden. "I love him so much. He's-he's mine."
"So no PIFA?" Brian asked, suddenly back to the original point.
I shook my head. "No."
Brian's eyes drifted behind me. "When did he start walking?"
I rolled my eyes as I turned my head, recalling my conversation with Daphne the other day. "Okay, for the last time, it's not walking, it's coast-"
I stopped.
Luke wasn't coasting.
I'd left him standing in the middle of the loft somewhere in my fit of anger, abandoning our walk together, but in my absence he'd just continued onward. He was taking slow, wobbly steps across the loft floor in my direction, all by himself.
I sunk to my knees, throat tightening.
"Uh. Hello?"
I abruptly remembered Brian's question, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Luke. When I spoke, my voice was hushed. "It's-he hasn't. These are his first steps."
"Oh." There was surprised silence from Brian. "Well. Holy shit."
"C'mon, Luke," I called softly, holding out my hands. "C'mon. Daddy's waiting."
From about three feet away, Luke's face split into a grin and he squealed out a happy "Dada!", only to stumble and go flying forward-
I dove out and caught him before he face-planted onto the hardwood floor, scooping him up with a delighted laugh and pulling him tight against my chest, plastering his head with kisses.
"You did it! You did it, you did it, you did it! You were walking!" I was a little bit crazy with excitement. "Oh my God-Brian, did you see that? He was walking! He's not supposed to walk for another five weeks, all the baby books said-oh my god-his first steps-"
I shut myself up before I started to make even less sense and pressed my face against the top of Luke's blond head. He was giggling and squirming with all the attention, and when I laid him down on the floor and started blowing raspberries on his belly, he was absolutely screeching with laughter.
Eventually I drew back, a huge grin on my face that could not-would not-be repressed, and ruffled his hair.
Luke lay on his back on the floor, still recovering from his laughing fit, babbling happily to himself.
Still breathless with excitement, I found myself staring at Brian. It took a few seconds for me to register the grin on his face, and the fact that his eyes were solely riveted on Luke-that was until he noticed I was staring, and his face was immediately wiped blank.
Mostly. The corners of his mouth were still twitching upwards. And after a moment's pause, he finally let a small smirk slide onto his face.
"Smart little fucker," he said, eyes going back to Luke, and there was a note of pride in his voice.
My cheeks ached from grinning.
*
I burst into Debbie's house on cloud nine.
Vic looked up from his armchair. "Someone's happy," he observed mildly.
"Luke took his first steps!" I practically shouted, throwing my hat and gloves onto the couch in my hurry to get out of my winter gear. I tossed my winter coat on top, next to the diaper bag, and set to work unbuckling Luke from his carrier. "I was over Brian's and he just started walking, it was the most amazing thing, he just started walking all by himself!"
"He's walking?" Debbie demanded, from somewhere upstairs. I heard rapid footsteps. "My baby's walking?"
"My baby's walking," I corrected, grinning like a madman as I lifted Luke up and out of his carrier. "Isn't that right, little dude? You were walking!"
"I don't believe it!" Debbie said excitedly, coming down the stairs in a rush. "When did that happen? I thought you were running to the post office!"
I shrugged. "I made a side-trip to Brian's and let him loose while we talked-I just turned my back for a moment, and he was just… walking. He was walking!"
"You mean that asshole got to see his first steps, and I didn't?" Debbie asked, sounding insulted, as though Luke had deliberately picked Brian over her as his first-steps audience. "Ooo, look, he's pulling himself up again! Is he gonna do it again?"
Luke was indeed pulling himself up on the couch, and I grabbed his hippo out of the diaper bag.
"Luke," I called, wiggling the hippo a few feet away. "Luke!"
Luke let out an excited squeal and dropped to his hands and knees, crawling over to hippo quickly.
"Or not," I muttered, dropping the hippo and letting him have it.
It was the thing about babies. They never did things when you wanted them to, especially when you were trying to show off a new trick.
Debbie, however, was much more persistent than I was and crouched down, calling Luke's name and only succeeding in getting him to crawl to her.
I exchanged looks with Vic.
"Your mother called, while you were out," Vic said. "She wants you to call her back."
I watched Luke pull himself up using the leg of the coffee table, and then push off from it on slow, unsteady feet. Debbie whooped excitedly and held out her arms, making 'gimmie' motions. Luke, delighted with attention as always, grinned happily and began to make his way over to her on unsteady feet.
"I'll call her back today," I said to Vic, not taking my eyes off of Luke.
I meant it, though. I wanted to tell her that Luke was walking, and I wanted her to be as proud of him as Debbie was.
*
Brian, Pam and I met the following afternoon in a somewhat fancy soup and sandwich place that Brian had picked because it was close to Ryder. Pam was dressed in another sharp-looking suit that clashed with the exhaustion on her face-but it wasn't the "I've had a stressful week" kind of exhaustion, it was the "I've had a stressful decade and don't see light at the end of the tunnel" kind of exhaustion. God. It did not inspire me to become a lawyer for the city of Pittsburgh at all.
Brian, though, was dressed to the nines and looked hot as hell. As always.
With both of them in their suits and me in my cargos and sweater, I looked even younger. The waitress even exclaimed over my 'baby brother' as I was putting Luke into the high chair she'd provided me.
Then Melanie showed up.
"Hey, kiddo," she said, sitting down across from me and setting her jacket on the back of her chair. Her eyes flicked to Brian. "Hi, Brian."
Brian inclined his head. "Mel."
I stared at him, confused. Pam looked confused as well, which made me feel a little less irritated. At least they weren't all pulling a coup on me.
"I hope you don't mind," Brian said casually, eyes fixed on Pam. "I brought my lawyer to look over the paperwork before I sign."
Pam looked between Melanie and Brian in surprise for a moment, and then shrugged. "Sure."
Part of me was irritated with Brian for telling Melanie about my situation without my permission, but part of me also had to admit that it was a good idea. I trusted that Pam wasn't trying to scam us or anything, but it was always a good idea to have a friendly lawyer look over things before you signed.
I was also a little surprised that Melanie would do this for me. She couldn't be doing it for Brian-unless he was paying her?
"Told you she likes you," Brian muttered into my ear, as the two lawyers began comparing work history.
I frowned. Brian probably wasn't paying her for this, then.
Irritated that he'd been right, and also still irritated that he'd told her about this without my permission, I reached over and rested a hand atop his crotch, stroking lightly. "Buy me lunch," I muttered back. "This place is expensive, you asshole."
Brian agreed, but not before grabbing my own crotch and giving me an instant boner in return. Fucker.
"So," Pam said, finally pulling out her papers and looking up.
Brian and I straightened as one, respective boners thankfully hidden.
Melanie rolled her eyes.
I settled the diaper bag over my lap and began hunting for Luke's lunch. He was sitting quietly in his high chair, currently engaged by the napkin he was tearing into tiny pieces, but I knew that if I waited another twenty minutes he'd start to get fussy for his meal.
"I trust you've been briefed on the situation, Mr. Kinney?" Pam asked.
He nodded. "If you could give the paperwork to Ms. Marcus, she'll just make sure it's in order, and then I'll sign."
Pam nodded and handed a small sheaf of papers over to Melanie, who put on her glasses began looking over them immediately.
Luke was reaching for the container of yams I'd set on the table, and I quickly busied myself with feeding him before he started making unhappy noises. Taking babies to restaurants that were not the Liberty Diner was always a risky business. Luke was usually a pretty happy baby, but even the best of babies could get set off by something and start bawling.
By the time Luke was finished with his yams, Melanie had finished the paperwork.
"It looks fine to me," she said, handing the stack to Brian. "There's X's on all the blanks you need to sign, date or initial."
"Do I have to sign anything?" I asked, feeling slightly like I had no reason for being there.
Pam and Melanie shook their heads.
"You're a minor," Melanie said, making a small face. "Your signature isn't worth much for another few months-essentially, Brian's signing everything for you."
Well, great. I really had no reason for being there.
I stifled a sigh and firmly told myself to get over it. I was done with self-pity and teenage angst, and I wasn't going to sit here and mope over the fact that I wasn't yet old enough to fully control Luke's inheritance. It was beyond my control, and I was doing everything in my power to make sure that one day it would be within my control.
We waited silently as Brian signed, dated and initialed his way through the forms.
"Dada?" Luke asked, waving his hands at me and straining out of his high chair. "Dada uh?"
I unwrapped a teething cookie for him (he'd been drooling a little more than usual as of late, and even if he didn't have a tooth coming in it would at least keep him occupied for a while) and handed it over. Luke happily clutched it in both hands and began gumming on a corner quietly.
Finally, Brian finished signing the forms, neatened the pile, and handed them back to Pam.
It was done.
Pam was looking over the forms, tearing off carbon copies here and there, and was eventually satisfied with it all. She handed a few copies over to Brian and tucked the rest away in her briefcase.
"Thank you," I said, leaning over to Brian and putting one hand between his thighs and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Brian pushed me away, rolling his eyes."Whatever."
"Not whatever," I insisted, removing my hand and gaining a bit of seriousness. I forced Brian to meet my eyes. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Brian said, scowling a little.
But I didn't miss it when, on his way out, he ruffled Luke's hair and gave his belly a quick tickle, making Luke giggle madly.
*
Later that night, I called up Melanie and decided to take a risk.
"Hey-yeah, it's Justin. Do you have a moment?" I huddled away from where Debbie and Vic were watching television on the couch. "Three things: wills, living wills, and power of attorney. Can you help me with those?"
But this time, it wasn't a leap of faith. I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I was making the right choice.
*
Everyone was stunned when Brian turned up for Deb's Christmas party.
I just sat back and grinned, bouncing Luke on my knee.
Michael looked mad enough to kick a kitten through a fan at Brian's apparent nerve, but Debbie slapped him on the back of the head before he could get a word out and sent him out back to grab another six-pack of beer. Debbie then joined Emmett, Ted and Lindsay in railing Brian for an explanation, why he'd chosen to show up for a Christmas party for the first time in years, but Brian expertly shook everyone off and slipped into the kitchen, closing in on the rum balls with alarming accuracy. Lindsay followed with Gus.
"Poor Gus," I murmured to Luke, now that Lindsay was out of hearing range. "Aren't you glad your daddy doesn't dress you in outfits like that? Daphne would buy you ridiculous little Christmas jester costumes if I let her, you know. She'd probably even like those pom-poms on his hat."
Luke blew a spit bubble at me, grinning.
I wiped at the drool on his chin and reached for the stuffed hippo next to me. I made it do a little dance for Luke, tickling him in the face every so often as I sang, "We three kings of Orient are… smoking on rubber cigars… One was load-"
"Funny," Brian's voice came from behind me suddenly, and a hand slid into my hair. "That's not how I learned it."
I look up, smirking, and continued the song. "One loaded, it explo-oded-now there's two kings of Orient are."
"Such disrespect for the church," Brian said sadly, shaking his head.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right. Like you went to mass this morning."
Brian flopped down next to me on the couch and settled an arm over my shoulders. His eyes went down to Luke. "And shouldn't this one be in bed already?"
"Not for another three hours," I said, letting the hippo go when Luke lost all interest in me upon the appearance of Brian and, therefore, a new lap for him to get acquainted with. The deal was sealed when he spotted the cowry shell bracelet around Brian's wrist. "It might be less than that, though, since he's had a long day. You wouldn't believe the loot that a baby can pull in-I don't know what it is with women and shopping for babies..."
"Are you complain-hey, kid," Brian said, his focus changing as Luke latched onto the wrist containing the cowry shell bracelet. A small smirk appeared on his face, and when he spoke, he voice was softer. "You like that?"
Luke did like it. He grinned and tugged on it with both hands.
Brian grinned and made quick work of the knot, letting the bracelet slide off and into Luke's hands.
"Careful," I warned. "Don't let him put it in his mouth."
"I do have an iota of common sense, you know," Brian said dryly, as Luke began to squirm.
"Down?" I asked him, while trying to grab the bracelet from the flailing limb.
"I'd say he wants down," Brian observed. He caught Luke easily as he rolled off of his lap, and spotted him as he slid down off the couch and onto the floor.
Luke pulled himself to his feet, clutching the bracelet tightly in one fist.
"What's he going to do with it?" Brian asked, sounding wary for the first time.
"I have no idea," I replied, watching Luke examine the bracelet in his hands. I leaned forward and held out a hand. "Luke, can I have that, please? Can you give me the bracelet?"
"Dada!" Luke said, waving his fist a little bit and grinning.
"Yes, give Dada the bracelet," I coaxed, extending my hand a little further. "Brian wants it back. That's Brian's bracelet."
But Luke had other ideas.
"Bye!" he said, waving his free hand in the air, and then he turned and started walking away unsteadily.
My mouth fell open, and even Brian's eyebrows shot up slightly.
"Well, we know where he gets that from," Brian put in amusedly, recovering as Luke toddled across the room with Brian's bracelet clutched in his hand.
"Fuck off," I said, elbowing him. "You want me to go get it for you?"
Brian shook his head. "It's fine. I'll get it back by the end of the night."
"You mean you don't want to make it a Christmas present?" I teased.
"Weren't you just complaining that he had too many already?"
"Complaining? Hell no, I'm set on baby shit for the next three months-even my mother bought him a Christmas gift, and she's still adjusting to the fact that he exists." I shrugged, leaning back against Brian while keeping an eye on Luke to make sure that he didn't start eating the bracelet. "I'd hate to see the piles of stuff Gus got."
"If the munchers ever pull their shit together, he'll be making serious bank in December," Brian agreed. "He'll get Christmas and Hanukkah presents."
"Speak of the devil," I said, raising my eyebrows as Lindsay reentered the living room with Gus.
She set Gus on the floor and started going through her diaper bag. Luke took an immediate interest in the baby on the floor, letting the bracelet drop to the floor and staring at Gus with wide, unblinking eyes and parted lips.
"I can't tell if he's staring at Gus, or at the hideous outfit Lindsay's got him wearing," Brian muttered.
"I told you, Luke thinks Gus is the greatest toy he's ever seen. He's going to follow him around all night now that he's spotted him."
"My son has a stalker. Great."
I grinned to myself and shifted, watching Luke walk over to Gus. It was amazing that he was walking-it really was. It seemed like only yesterday that I'd held him in the waiting room as the doctors tried to save Sara's life. He'd barely been crawling at that point. But now he was walking and talking and…
God.
"How are you healing up?" Brian asked.
"I can move my hand," I said proudly, holding it up and wiggling my fingers, with minimal wincing. The back of my hand was a mess of darkened bruising now, and it hurt to move, but I was slowly regaining functionality. "My chest is good, too. It was a rough week, but I'm almost all healed up and ready to take on the world again."
"That's right," Brian said, now smirking. "You've got your 'plan'."
I beamed. "My plan!"
"Plan?" Emmett asked, butting into the conversation.
I grinned at him madly. "I have a plan," I informed him. "And it's a good plan. It's a really good plan. In fact, my plan is better than your plan."
Emmett blinked. "I don't have a plan."
"Exactly."
Emmett stared at me in bewilderment, and I continued to give him the shiniest smile I could manage. To my left, Brian was putting obvious effort into not cracking up.
"Right," Emmett finally said. "You know, I think I'm going to go refill my wine. You two want anything?"
After he left, I let my smile fade a bit and settled my gaze on Luke, who was currently investigating one of the toys that Lindsay had laid out for Gus. My son was happy. Debbie and Vic were cooking up a storm in the kitchen for Christmas dinner, I'd seen Daphne just last night, Mom had dropped by earlier in the day for an hour or so, and Brian was here at my side tonight.
I might have been in freefall for the last few months, but I'd managed to find a somewhat soft place to land in the end. I'd survived. I was a survivor.
I was a survivor.
Brian nudged me from behind. "Hey. If you're not going to give me a lap dance, move. I don't fucking cuddle."
I smirked and nestled a little closer. "You do now."
And that was that.
Epilogue