Chapter 12

It had been a long fucking weeks. Between the gallery and the Hobbs thing, I felt like my brain was about to explode and my body was gonna give out on me at any second. Not to mention I started to take my anxiety meds again. Something I hadn’t done in…a very long time.

But 2 weeks into the building of the gallery and so far not one panic attack. A little heavy breathing and heart races but no attacks. I stayed clear of him, and him of me. Brian must have really scared the shit out of him. That thought makes me smile every time I see him DART from a room when I enter it.

Brian Kinney. My hero.

I drop my keys on the counter and frown at the unfolded laundry in the basket sitting on the kitchen table. Gus had 3 chores. One, take out the garbage. Two, keep your room clean. And three do your own fucking laundry.

He has a problem with all 3.

I groan and like always, begin to carry the laundry basket full of his clean clothes up the stairs.

I tell Brian all the time he needs to put his foot down about Gus. He needs to have rules and chores. Brian just gives me that adorable smile, tells me he’s just a kid, and then I end up taking out the garbage or putting his fucking clothes away.

I balance the laundry basket on my knee and open the door to Gus’s room.

My eyes widen and I drop the laundry basket at the site in front of me:

Gus sitting up on his elbows, head thrown back, moaning, pants around his ankles and a boy, A BOY kneeling in front of him, sucking his fucking dick.

THIS is so wrong for so many reasons.

SO MANY REASONS.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” I scream.

Gus sits up frantically, pushing the boy onto his butt on his carpeted floor and struggles to pull his pants up.

“DON’T YOU KNOCK!?”

“What are YOU DOING HERE? WHY aren’t you at SCHOOL?!”

“I had a half day. Midterms. WHAT are YOU doing here?”

“I LIVE HERE!”

The head giver finally stands up, wiping his mouth.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?” I scream at him.

“Uh. Kelly. My names Kelly.”

“Well, Kelly. GET. THE. FUCK. OUT.” I point toward Gus’s door and Kelly RUNS as fast as he can out of the room and down the stairs.

I turn and GLARE at Gus.

“Are you out of your FUCKING mind!?” I ask him.

“WHAT!? I’m SEVENTEEN. I’m allowed to DATE.”

“THAT’S NOT DATING! That’s getting your DICK sucked in your bedroom when your PARENTS aren’t home!”

“SO!? How old were you…”

“STOP right there.” I hold my hand up. “This isn’t about me, or when I started becoming sexually active.”

“Sexually active?” Gus does the Brian eyebrow raise and my blood boils.

“Gus. This isn’t funny. You DO NOT bring some boy home and do…THESE things in this house when me or your father isn’t home!”

“WHY?”

“WHY???” I ask.

“Yes. Why?”

“Because…” My god, why can’t I think of a reason right now. “Because…”

Gus keeps his eyebrow raised.

“BECAUSE I SAID SO.” I kick the laundry basket into his room. “Now clean this FUCKING room NOW.” I slam his bedroom door and lean against the wall, trying to will myself to calm down.

~~~~

I am sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette, when Brian finally arrives home.

He does the eyebrow raise thing and it makes me want to put the cigarette out in his eye.

“Thought you quit?” He asks, putting his briefcase down on the counter.

I don’t answer.

He walks to me slowly and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Something happen at the gallery?” He asks.

“No.” I answer bitterly.

He kneels down next to me and touches my arm. “Justin.”

I stub the cigarette out and turn towards him. “You need to talk to your son.”

“Oh?”

I nod.

“What happened?”

“I…” I begin to talk and the images flash before my eyes again. Gus. Pants down. Dick out in the air…blowjob…I feel myself getting sick. “He had a little friend over today.”

“Okay….” He’s confused.

I LOOK at him.

“What? Justin spit it out. They get in trouble?”

“They were…” I LOOK at him again.

“They were….what?”

I sigh and rub my hand over my face.

“Justin.”

“HE WAS GETTING A BLOW JOB IN HIS ROOM BY SOME KID!” I finally yell, probably a little TOO loud.

Brian stares at me for a few seconds then laughs. “Is that all?” He stands and heads toward the fridge.

“WHAT!? Is that ALL!?”

“Yeah.” He grabs a beer, opening it and leans against the counter. “So?”

“SO!? He can’t just…DO THAT!”

“Why?”

“WHY!?” I get a flash back of Gus asking me the same question up in his room hour’s earlier, THE SAME expression on his face.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I SAID SO. ITS WRONG! HE can’t just…bring some KID here and get sucked off when we aren’t here!”

“So you’d rather us BE here when he does?” He starts to walk toward the door. “I’ll let him know.”

“BRIAN. This is SERIOUS.”

He turns around smiling at me. “No. It’s not. Justin. He’s seventeen. It’s normal.”

“No. He cant just…”

“But you could?”

“I didn’t in my PARENTS house!”

”That’s only because your mother would have dropped dead where she stood and your dad was a homophobic prick who probably would have killed you and me.”

“So? Just because we’re openly gay and not as strict AS WE SHOULD BE MIND YOU, that gives him the right to just DO what he WANTS!?”

“He could be doing worse stuff.”

“LIKE?”

“Like drugs. Going to clubs and hooking up with strangers. Going home with men 12 years older than him. LIKE YOU did at Seventeen.”

I can feel my blood boil inside my body. “This isn’t about ME. This is about GUS.”

“You’re right. It is. And I’m his father and I say he at least he came HERE and didn’t go to some BATHHOUSE or back room. And at least this KID was his own age!”

HIS father?

“Would you still feel the same if it was a GIRL giving him a blow job??” I fold my arms and give him a challenging look.

Brian bristles. “Yes.”

“Liar.”

He walks to me and glares down at me. God, I hate being so fucking short.

“Gus is a good kid. He gets good grades; he doesn’t give us any fucking trouble. He’s not running the streets selling drugs. If this is the WORST thing he is doing at seventeen, we should be thanking God or whatever the fuck.”

I’m so angry.

“Well you know WHAT!? Gus is MY SON too and I say its WRONG for him to be getting head in his bedroom WHEN WE ARENT HERE.”

I’m breathing hard, hands fisted at my sides. Brian’s eyebrows are raised and an amused smile is planted on his lips.

He thinks I’m funny.

“You’re so adorable when you’re mad.”

I push him, half playfully, half serious. “Shut up.”

He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me. I bury my head in its perfect place underneath his chin.

“Why are you really upset?”

God, I hate how he knows me so well.

“I don’t want him to get hurt.”

I feel Brian tense.

He knows what I am talking about.

“How do you know he’s the one who’s going to get hurt? Maybe he will do the hurting.”

I look up at him. “That makes it better?”

Brian brings his lips into his mouth. He shakes his head. “No, I guess not.”

I relax into his arms and he stands there for a while hugging me. He knows this brings back memories and feelings of how I felt at 17. Newly gay, out in the world, trying to figure myself out. Falling in love with someone…maybe I shouldn’t have been with at 17.

“This isn’t even about us not being here, Justin. Or that he did it in this house. You’re far too liberal of a parent for that. This is about you. And your…” I feel him swallow above my head. “…about how I treated you at 17.”

He’s right.

I nod into his chest.

He hugs me tighter.

“I’m sorry.” He finally whispers.

“For what?” I mumble against his chest.

“For…how I treated you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes. It does. It obviously does. Look how you just freaked out on Gus.”

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s not crying about it. If anything, since he is so much like me, he’s amused more than anything.”

I giggle a little.

“Drama Princess.” He plays with a strand of my hair on my neck.

I tickle his stomach.

“I should go talk to him.” I say pulling away.

He looks at me, eyes so green and fuck he’s so beautiful. “Nah. I will. I think it’s time Sonnyboy and I have a talk anyways.”

I nod. He leans down and kisses me, hot and passionately. I moan into it and grab his tie.

He laughs a little, pulling out of my grasps. “Later Sunshine. Later.”

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