A/N: Ahm… don’t know what to say. Actually the readers were supposed to disagree with Michael in this chapter. Now I know many of you won’t. And I guess I still have no clue what the problem is. But I wouldn’t/couldn’t change the storyline. Kiss me alright will end the same way as I planned it before I started the first chapter. Also: The first part of this chapter (where Justin dreams about the ´cheap gay novel´ Brian bought him at Borders) was inspired by a fanfic Bine’s writing at the moment. Part of your world. My ‘dream’ here didn’t exactly work out the way she wanted it. And I really tried to change it, but couldn’t come up with anything new. So I’m sorry. Please don’t judge Bine’s wonderful story by this crappy dream sequence. I guess I suck when it comes to creating real fairy tales *pouts* Oh, and this isn’t the last chapter, but the end is near. Kiss me alright Chapter 26 – Wet Dreams … the beautiful merman almost flew through the shimmering blue water. Completely soundless. His silver-green fishtail flapping in graceful motions when he turned in a pirouette, moving upwards and breaking through the water surface like an arrow, white foam and salty water spraying everywhere. Little droplets glimmered on his lovely face, a little piece of sea grass sticking to his blond hair, as he swam towards the beach, sliding fluidly on one of the big rocks, framing the long, white beach in front of the castle. The prince took one last drag from his firestick before he threw it away carelessly in the dim light of the nightfall. “That wasn’t very convincing.” He said when he walked closer, his bare feet printing pretty shapes in the wet ground. “I’ve seen old sea elephants doing a far better job.” The merman grinned, laying lazily on his side, resting on the almost black stone. “Oh yeah? Doing what?!” „Shooting out of the water and gliding on a big, wet rock like a bad free Willy double.“ The prince said but smirked too, stopping when his toes made contact with the cool ocean water. “And don’t think I’ll set one foot in this shit brew. I had a $450 pedicure today.” He held his hand out. And the beautiful merman smiled at him for a moment, wriggled his tail and in the next second it wasn’t fin and fish scales anymore, but two long, pale skinned legs. And he slid off the high rock and waded through the shallow water to the beach. He looked up to his prince with soft blue eyes. “You say the most romantic things.” And he didn’t get an answer…but a gentle kiss with a mild breeze of salty air brushing through his wet hair. “Hhh…” Justin smacked his lips and sighed when the beautiful images blurred and in the end disappeared entirely. He blinked his eyes. Everything was hard and hard and something bit at his back. He didn’t like it and clumsily moved to sit on his knees. “Yes.” He shoved a thick blond hair strand out of his forehead. He was on the blue carpet and all the lovely books lay everywhere. His look changed a little disoriented upwards to the ceiling. It wasn’t very dark anymore, but the room wasn’t bright as it should be in the morning either. He blinked his eyes again and then stood up awkwardly and went to the window. The curtains were closed and he needed a moment before he took another step forward to peek squinting behind the dark, heavy curtains. The sky was grey and the white Christmas snow lay on the big, evil tower, on the streetlamps and left and right in big mounds beside the black street, but not on the street itself. Just a little grey dirt-snow that looked like mud. “Yeah.” Justin found it didn’t look very nice outside today, so he released the curtain fabric and plodded with small steps out of the room, into the long corridor and down the stairs. For a moment, he stopped on step twelve to look at the picture of the naked man and then went the last steps down until his bare feet touched the smooth black stone floor in the entry hall. It was a little cold and he tried to hurry up to reach the warm wood ground inside the castle’s living room. It smelled wonderful and Justin stood still for a while, just wrapping a hair strand around his finger and rocking softly back and forth. He liked the castle so much and would’ve preferred to not go back into the tower ever again. But of course he had to. It wasn’t Christmas yet. “Yeah.” His eyes flickered as he looked to the wall. He felt a bit sad. Waiting for Christmas was really very hard and took far too long. He sighed and touched his belly. It didn’t feel empty, but he went towards the kitchen anyway. The big clock over the kitchen cupboards said it was 7.58 am. Two more minutes until breakfast time. “Yes. Of course…of course Sunday. Waffles and fruit salad.” He climbed on one of the big bar stools to wait. He liked waffles, but hopefully the prince wouldn’t steal the tasty orange pieces from his plate again. When the hand moved over to 8.04 am the kitchen was still quiet and no plate with waffles or fruit salad was to be seen. “Yeah.” Justin scratched his forehead. He didn’t know where the servant was and as he thought of the wonderful breakfast waffles he always had in the tower, he felt quite hungry. “Plake.” He didn’t call very loud for the nurse because he would’ve preferred for the beautiful prince to appear instead of the tower guard. He hated the tinkling key. Plake didn’t come, nor the prince or the servant, no matter how loud Justin’s stomach grumbled. So he climbed back down from the high chair and padded to one of the cupboards, pushing himself up on his toes to reach the handle and open the cupboard door. “Ohhh.” There were many silver cans and colorful boxes and Justin fished for a pretty tin with a fruit salad picture sticking to the front. Certainly there were tasty banana slices inside of the can and grapes and oranges. “Yes.” He shook it and listened carefully to the noises the contents made. It didn’t sound like poisoned apples, so he put it down on the counter and picked at the shiny material with his fingers. He scratched and pushed and knocked on it, but it wouldn’t open. “Yeah.” Justin looked blankly up to the ceiling. He really would’ve preferred to eat breakfast now. At 8.21 am he left the kitchen, because his feet were cold and he didn’t like the quietness everywhere. With padding noises on the smooth floor he went through the living room and over to the big terrace doors. The pane was a little bit cold when he pressed his forehead against it, but the breath he breathed onto the pane was warm and he poked his tongue out to lick the growing wetness off. The castle gardens looked so lovely with all the snow and Justin really wondered if the frog would be white now too. “Yeah.” Maybe there would even be a little Christmas snow on top of the shiny gold ball. His belly grew happily warm at this thought and he giggled quietly and grabbed for the door handle to pull the door open like the prince did all the time. It was a bit tricky and Justin had to use all his strength, but in the end the door rolled open and cold air came through the narrow gap. Justin blinked and wrinkled his nose when he stuck one of his hands outside, testing, before he made one careful step in the snow. He whimpered when the coldness surrounded his naked foot, but he made another step, and another and two more and after a slight hesitancy, walked straight towards the snow covered pear tree and the little pond that lay underneath. “Yeah.” He stood at the brink and looked inside for a moment before his gaze wandered up to the grey sky. He couldn’t see the frog and the water was gone and everything was ice and hard and frozen. “Hh.” He sighed and watched the damp fume coming out from between his lips with every breath. It looked like the smoke the prince made with his firesticks and Justin smiled brightly. Then he scratched his forehead and decided to look into the big well with the blue water. Certainly the frog would sit there and watch over the gold ball. It took 42 steps through the white, cold snow for Justin to reach the big well and his feet didn’t feel very good. They were all red too. But the well water was wonderful blue as always and it gurgled quietly and clouds of magic fog hovered over the water’s surface. Justin blinked his long eyelashes and rocked softly, standing fascinated at the pool’s edge. He wondered whether there could be a beautiful merman in the well, together with the frog and the big polar bear. And he wriggled his cold toes and really wished he had a shimmering fish tail too. A little awkwardly he bent down over the water and reached his hand out to touch it. “Ha!” He laughed. It was warm! He was sure the frog liked that. …and then the world fell over and all his thoughts were surrounded by water and his mouth was full of frog taste and his legs had no silvery fish scales. ------------- Brian groaned and fished blindly on the nightstand for the first morning cigarette, even before his eyes were fully open. God, he really hated mornings were he woke up feeling even shittier than at night when he went to sleep. The lighter clicked, he took a deep drag and fell relaxed back into the pillows when the hot smoke filled his lungs. And he looked at the clock tiredly and exhaled in irritation, when the first thought coming to his mind in connection with the numbers 8. 38 were, ´It was time for breakfast 38 minutes ago´. Followed by the image of a blond brat, lying in a pile of books on the blue carpet. Sleeping. And he really tried to enjoy his morning cigarette in peace, but somehow his body was anxious to get out of bed. He cursed to no one in particular when he pushed the covers aside and swung his legs off the mattress, his cigarette dangling between his lips. He stood and scratched the back of his neck, inhaling deeply again as he went over to the window, looking blankly outside. Damn snow. He closed his eyes for a second, taking the cigarette between his lips for another drag, and when he opened them again he almost choked on the strong smoke and it came out in two short puffs. There, outside near the damn fucking swimming pool was Justin, toddling barefoot and in his blue pyjamas around in the snow, bending over the water and talking to himself. Saying words Brian couldn’t hear through the window. And he was frozen behind it, a hot gush flowing through his chest, as he knocked at the glass and said something about ´shit´ and ´fuck´ and ´stupid brat´. And he thought of opening the window to call out, but then he was already halfway down the stairs and couldn’t remember the last time he felt so mad about something. He had a full range of colourful insults ready to shout in Justin’s direction, and even practised a couple of them on his way through the living room, but when he reached the terrace doors, the boy was gone. Vanished. Disappeared from the face of earth or at least from the magically winter wonderland that was Brighton’s gardens in December. Brian heard the deadly silence and biting cold air hit the bare skin at his chest through the small gap of the glass doors. And his heart raced, but his legs refused to move. Refused to even twitch, for two seconds that seemed like an aeon. And when he finally threw his cigarette away and ran…outside in the coldness of countless points below zero, through a blanket of white snow… his legs felt heavy like steel and stone. No matter how fast he tried to run, he never broke turtle speed. And he didn’t think about his brand new $59.95 Ginch Gonch Crotch Rockets underwear as he jumped into a heated deluxe pool and was surprised about the thousands of needles that hit his skin immediately. Especially, when he gathered the slender body, a second later somewhere near the third shiny underwater lamp on the right side… a body that was way colder than the temperature of the heated water. And he had concrete plans to murder his incompetent pool boy and sue the entire pool company when he held Justin up and the boy stared at him with wide blue eyes, gasping for breath in sheer panic. Brian wasn’t gentle when he moved the kid over the edge of the pool, laying him down on the slightly snow covered tiles. Shouting at him when all that came out of Justin’s mouth were choked gurgling sounds. And he pressed his forearm into the boy’s stomach and the flush of chlorine well water spluttering to surface wasn’t blue but Justin’s lips were. Brian panted and dug his fingers into Justin’s shoulders, starring frantically down, his eyes flickering over a thin face that displayed only unhealthy colors. And he burned with anger and opened his mouth to scream at Justin what a fucking idiot he was… but all he could hear coming from his panicked voice was a broken, “…you fucking stupid little twat.” Then he said nothing more, pulled Justin up and carried him back inside without even glancing at him. And he didn’t look at the boy when he turned the hot water on in the shower and he concentrated on washing Justin’s beet-red skin for the next fifteen minutes. Massaging chlorine out of blond hair. Feeling a steady heart beat under his finger tips. When he turned the water off and wrapped Justin into a big towel, Justin looked up at the ceiling, blinking his wet lashes and began to rock slightly back and forth. “Yeah…certainly in… in the well.” Brian wanted to slap him. His hand twitched and his jaw tightened. But then Justin scratched his forehead and sighed. And all he could do was to kiss the blond, wet hair and close his eyes and think ´I’m sorry´ even though it was utter bullshit... --------------- Justin shivered when he blinked over the edge of the thick blanket. The room was still and very quiet and only a few soundless snowflakes fell behind the pane of the castle window. He felt his toes prickle and wondered why his lips wouldn’t stop quivering. He wanted them to. “Hhh.” He looked to the side and wriggled his hips under the heavy covers. His dripping wet blue pyjamas lay in the laundry basket and now he was all naked and alone in bed, even though it was bright day and his eyes wouldn’t close. “Yes.” He really would’ve preferred for the beautiful prince to lie together with him in the big, comfortable bed. But Prian wasn’t in the bedroom. He was downstairs. Justin could hear him. Loud and loud and barking and growling like the big bad wolf and an angry giant. Justin wasn’t sure if he liked it and lay very still. ------------------- “I don’t care if it’s the weekend! Get your fucking ass over here!” Brian slammed the phone down with a furious ´Fuck damnit!´ “Brian.” Emmett sat on the white sofa and shot his boss a pleading gaze. “Would you please stop to-” “What?!” Brian shouted at the other man, a wild look in his brown eyes. “I told you weeks ago, the fucking doors need to be fixed! But no, of course you were too busy baking tons of fucking cookies and turning the house into the next damn fucking north pole! And now it’s too late!” “No, it’s not.” Emmett spoke in a calm voice. “It’s not too late. He’s fine.” Brian stared down at him, fuming. He wanted to strangle him. Wanted to kick something and break a few things. He wanted to scream and ram his fist through the fucking mirror-glass door. He felt his blood boil and pulse in his veins. And he turned around and didn’t bother for a glass when he grabbed a half empty Jim Beam bottle and drank. One big gulp. Before the golden liquid swam between thousands of tiny shards on an expensive Milan hard wood floor. And he stood by the terrace doors and looked outside at the peaceful white that was his garden; feeling numb and tired. And when he left the living room eight silent minutes later, his voice was low and dark. “Drain the pool.” “But you love to swim outside. You wanted it heated.” “What I want is a drained pool.” Brian walked slowly upstairs and stopped in the doorframe of his bedroom. He’d hoped Justin would be asleep. But he wasn’t. Two blue eyes looked at him, wide awake, over the edge of a thick blanket. And they followed him with rare attentiveness as he went over to his wardrobe. He tried to ignore it when he started to undress. But all he could hear in the quiet room was the boy’s even breathing, and while he pulled off his jeans, he looked slightly back over his shoulder. “Are you still cold?” He didn’t like how unconcerned his voice sounded and he sniffed and concentrated on the buttons of his fly. Justin blinked at Prian’s bare back. It was beautiful. The prince always looked beautiful. Brown hair, golden skin and so tall and strong and graceful. He wanted to sniff at Prian’s chest and belly. He wanted to lick Prian’s mouth and neck and fingertips. He wanted to touch Prian’s penis and lovely face. But he didn’t. He just lay there under the warm covers. Very still. Watching as the prince took off all of his clothes, disappeared into the bathroom without closing the door, pissed into the toilet without sitting down, washed his hands without the wonderful foam soap… and finally came back, with naked feet on a white cat fur carpet. He looked into Prian’s face, the edge of the blanket rubbing at his chin, wondering whether his lips would stop to quiver if the prince would kiss them. Brian only glanced at Justin briefly before he went to close the curtains, collected his cigarettes on his way to the bed, and without a comment lay down on the mattress. Justin turned his head and watched as the shimmering silver lighter clicked and the little yellow flame lit the firestick in Prian’s fingers. He liked the milky smoke puffs, coming out of the prince’s mouth. They looked like clouds. He blinked his eyes and pursed his lips, imitating the other man and blowing air through them. Noisily. After the third fake-smoke-noise next to his ear, Brian turned his head to look at the boy. Justin looked back, a hint of a smile on his face. And Brian said nothing, but took a long drag of his cigarette and then expertly blew a couple of smoke-rings towards the ceiling. “Hh!” Justin’s eyes went wide for a second, before his face showed a happy, bright smile. “Ha!” Circles! The Prince was so clever! It was the first time that Brian thought Justin’s laughing sounded really nice. It made him smirk, too. And he moved under the thick blanket to lie closer to the younger man, and without looking at him or explaining himself, he lifted his arm until Justin’s head was snuggled comfortably in the crook of his neck. He kissed blond hair, turned a bit to the side and again inhaled a deep drag of his cigarette into his lungs. He closed his eyes, enjoying the calmness spreading through his body. Justin buried his nose into smooth skin, wiggled around a little, and then lay with his cheek resting on Prian’s broad chest to watch the smoke puffs and clouds and little rings, flying high above their heads, before they disappeared magically in the air. He really wondered what firesticks tasted like. “You’re still an icicle.” He was? Prian’s voice grumbled deep inside his body. Justin liked it and pressed his ear closer to the prince’s chest. “You’ll have a major cold tomorrow.” Justin blinked his eyelashes, refusing to move along, as Prian reached over to the ashtray on the nightstand to stub his cigarette out. “Hff.” Brian lay back onto the pillows, closed his eyes and drew his arm loosely around the boy’s shoulders, rubbing his hand over the slight goosebumbs when he felt Justin shiver. “I’m fucking mad at you, you know...” It was a sleepily mumbled statement. “Yes.” Justin poked his tongue out to touch a beautifully dark nipple. “You can’t even swim.” He couldn’t? Justin paused in his licking task for a moment. He wanted to swim through the blue water… “…like the merman.” With see grass in his hair and a lovely fin with fish scales. “What merman?” Brian blinked one eye open. “Yes. In the well…well water.” Justin licked Prian’s nipple again. It tasted like shower-rain. Brian flipped the boy on his back and hovered over him in less than two seconds. He brushed blond bangs off of a pale forehead when he looked down into a slightly startled face. “Is this one of your stories again?!” Justin stared up into brown prince eyes and finally looked away and over to the wall. Breathing was difficult when Prian lay on his chest and belly. “Justin!” Brian guided the boy’s head back in the right direction. “What fucking merman?! You read about it in your book? Answer me!” “Yeah.” Justin pushed with all his strength against the firm hand on his face, avoiding the visual contact stubbornly. “Certain… certainly it’s lesbionic.” Brian blinked and let go of the kid’s chin. “You’ve read that soft porn.” “Of course it’s a best seller.” Justin sighed and looked up to the ceiling. Now all the smoke rings were gone. Mister Kinney closed his eyes and let his hand fall down on the pillow beside Justin’s head. “And it’s about a damn fucking merman?” He sounded worn out. “Yes.” The book was wonderful and about lots of sand and water and… “… fish scales.” They shimmered in the moonlight. “Should’ve known.” Brian’s forehead sunk against Justin’s temple and then he said nothing more for a long time… and when he finally did, it was only quietly whispered words into a slightly cool ear shell. “You could be dead now.” Justin said nothing. “Don’t ever go near the water again without me.” Justin’s eyes flickered as he listened to the low words. “Never without me.” “Yes.” “Yes.” Brian’s fingers knotted tightly into blond hair and a kiss was planted right beside the boy’s ear. “Never without Prian.” “Yes my… my prince.” Justin’s left hand moved underneath the blanket to pat Prian’s bare side stiffly. “Hmm.” Brian sucked a pink earlobe between his lips, “I don’t even have a crown.” before he kissed a wet trail down a pale throat. “Or a sword.” He licked Justin’s chin with a broad tongue, speaking quietly. “Or a palace.” But he had a Playboy-castle, a servant and a blond princess in the tower. And he frowned, and looked down into the soft blue eyes of this young man who dared to turn all of his fundamental rules and laws and principles into irrelevant vanities, and he had to kiss him. Desperately. With impatient growls, and savouring moans and gentle biting. Sucking on pink, swollen lips. Drowning in the dazed devotion Justin’s flushed face showed. “Justin.” He panted when he nipped a wet upper lip, “Can I suck you?” and brushed his fingers over a feverish cheek, “Hm? Lick you?” waiting for the boy’s eyes to meet his. “Here?” He reached down to touch Justin’s erection. Justin struggled to keep his eyes open, his pelvis moving upwards into Prian’s teasing hand, the tip of his tongue reaching out to taste the prince’s lips again. “Hmm? Justin?” Brian stroked the warm hardness slowly. “You want me to lick your penis?” He bent down to lap Justin’s glistening lips. Justin arched his back and moaned loudly. He felt like flying and falling and everything at once and sucked on Prian’s tongue greedily. And Brian slid deep inside the boy’s mouth, again and again. Relishing the warm, wet sweetness. “Justin…” He breathed the word almost soundless between two kisses. “I want to taste you…” “Hhh.” Justin’s eyelids fluttered as the older man crawled slowly down on his body, kissing and licking him everywhere. It tickled and burned and felt so wonderful and he squirmed under Prian’s smooth palms and extended a clumsy hand to search for the prince. Brian reached upwards to entwine his left hand with Justin’s fingers, rubbing his thumb soothingly in the kid’s palm, when his mouth sank down to lick the leaking tip of a hard, twitching maleness. Justin gasped and squeezed Prian’s fingers, pushing his middle upwards. He felt like there was a fire inside his belly and he would’ve preferred for Prian to never stop licking his penis again. Brian groaned deep in his throat, engulfing the boy’s length in one fluid motion, while he rubbed his own cock in his right hand, relieving a bit of the tension. He knew Justin wouldn’t last long and he didn’t want him to. He really wanted to taste him. He wanted to feel him. His life and his warmth. And he closed his eyes and circled his tongue around the wet flesh, sucked three more times propulsive and felt, in the next second, thick sperm hitting his throat. Justin’s hectic panting was followed by a loud wailing sound and he tried to curl up and roll over on his side, but Brian held him in place, licked him clean for a minute with comforting patience and crawled up again, dropping randomly warm kisses here and there over the younger mans flushed skin. “Are you still cold?” He smiled, not even an inch over Justin’s face, and he slid his fingers into damp, blond hair, brushed it back off of the boy’s forehead and bent down to kiss slightly parted lips. “Here…” he whispered and snaked his tongue against Justin’s. “Taste.” Justin felt like he was surrounded by thick fog and cotton wool. Everything was far away and soft and three feet over the ground. He didn’t think that his arms and legs were still there, but he could feel Prian over him, very close and all around, with warm almond skin and gentle lips and a tongue full of… “…sperm.” It was a little word spoken in a very small voice, but Brian heard it anyway. “Yours.” He kissed him again. “It’s good.” “Yeah.” Justin licked his lips lazily. The sperm of course tasted like… “…white beet.” “Hff.” Brian huffed and rubbed his cheek over Justin’s temple. “No way.” “Yes. Certainly rabbit… rabbit slices.” Brian wrinkled his forehead. “That’s gross.” “Yes.” Justin’s fingers patted Prian’s upper arm awkwardly. “You taste like Justin. That’s a good flavour.” “Yeah.” Justin found that, too. “With cookies.” The older man mumbled weakly against the boy’s shoulder. “Is this your discreet way to hustle me for breakfast?!” “Yes.” Justin liked breakfast on Sunday. It was of course… “…waffles and-” “Fucking fruit salad. I know.” Brian grumbled. He really wasn’t supposed to know that. “Yes. Certainly in the… in the kitchen.” With the servant and much dancing. Brian pushed his nose in Justin’s skin for a moment. It was warm and rosy now. “No… let’s go out.” ------------------ “My favourite boy!” Debbie cooed when he pinched her blond guest’s cheek and smiled at him adoringly. “And who am I?! The invisible man?” Brian’s face showed something alarmingly similar to a pout. “Yes.” Justin rubbed his cheek and looked at the ceiling. There were two more stains and one fly. “No.” Debbie put a hand on her hip, taking the sweetness out of her voice. “You’re the guy who’s taking this poor kid to breakfast at eleven o’clock!” She pointed on her watch. “Are you trying to fucking starve him?!” “No. I’m trying to keep him in shape.” Brian smiled up at her artificially. “Don’t start a day without your early morning exercise.” “Don’t be a smart ass!” She wagged her finger at him, and then took out her note pad. “So.” She turned to Justin again, smiling brightly. “What’ll it be, sweetheart?” “Yes.” Justin’s eyes remained upwards. “I was… was in the water.” “Good for you, honey!” She said encouraging and extended her hand towards his face again, but was stopped by five strong fingers around her wrist. “Stop pinching him. He doesn’t like it.” “And how would you know?!” She shot him a disapproving look. Brian didn’t answer this question and kept his attention to the menu. “We’ll take waffles, fruit salad, black coffee and orange juice.” “Yes.” Justin sighed. “Certainly fifteen… fifteen percent amount of pure… pure fruit.” “Right.” Brian said and peeked into the menu again. “Make that one black coffee and a glass of milk.” Debbie just looked at him. Mister Kinney put the menu aside. “And don’t forget the fucking powdered sugar.” “Yes.” Justin smiled at the wall. Debbie smirked slightly at both of the men and after a moment, shook her head and disappeared. Brian watched the boy for a while silently, and when he spoke, he kicked Justin’s boot lightly under the table. “You’re going back home today.” “Yeah.” The blue eyes were blank. “You want to take your books with you? The new ones?” “Yes.” Justin liked his new books and the little colourful candy balls. Brian pinched his nose. “Listen, I have to work a lot before the holidays.” He glanced briefly to the other side of the table and then down at his fingers, which fiddled with a paper napkin. “So, I’m not sure when I can come over for a visit again.” “Yes.” Justin knew the right time. It was… “…certainly two… two p.m.” “Not in the next few days.” “Yes.” Justin’s eyes flickered and looked then expressionless towards the wall. Brian took the seven league boot under the table between his Prada shoes. “But you’ll be a good boy, alright?” The younger one didn’t answer. “Eat your meals and read the new books.” Justin only blinked and wriggled his toes in the shoe. “Get on Dr. Bruckner’s nerves.” And Brian wasn’t prepared for the direct look the blond gave him abruptly. A dejected stare out of two blue eyes. Justin didn’t want to hear so many words about the tower. It was huge and grey and ugly, with evil vines and syringe water. And he felt angry and wanted Christmas to be now. Brian turned away for a moment, drew his lips inwards and rubbed the back of his head when he met Justin’s gaze again. And he hated how angry he sounded. How cold and uncaring. “Well you can’t be with me all the time. I have other things to do.” Because there was an ache in his chest with every word and he was afraid it was his heart. A waiter with a D-A-N-I-E-L tag on his shirt appeared to serve the food, but Justin threw the fork under the table and looked at the wall, rocking back and forth in his place while counting the tiles on Prian’s bathroom floor. Loudly. “Justin.” Brian grabbed across the table for the boy’s arm. “Stop being a fucking princess and eat your food.” Justin counted even louder. There were too many waffles on the plate anyway. “Justin, I fucking mean it! Stop to-” “Brian?” Michael stopped in front of the table, bending down to kiss Brian’s cheek, although his eyes held a surprised expression when looking at the blond man on the other side of the table. “I didn’t know you would be here.” “Hey.” Brian sounded reserved when he glanced at his friend for a second, before he looked back at Justin. “We just wanted to eat breakfast.” “Yes.” Michael frowned and slid next to Justin on the bench. “I can see that.” He stared at Brian accusingly, a reproachful tone in his voice. “This is the guy Ben told me about last night, isn’t he?!” He pointed at the kid but didn’t look at him. “The one from the lunatic asylum.” “Michael.” Brian warned. “Yes.” Justin’s eyes flickered nervously and his rocking grew stronger. He wasn’t sure if he knew the loud man and really would’ve preferred for him to leave his stool. “I couldn’t believe what he told me!” Michael stated. “I told him he must’ve misunderstood the situation.” He shook his head. “Yes, certainly very… very angry.” Justin really didn’t like the evil man and pushed his forehead firmly against the stained wall. “Michael, be quiet.” Brian’s jaw tightened. Michael looked at Justin more closely, huffing a laugh that wasn’t happy. “This is the crazy guy from your party!” He looked outraged at Brian. “Then it’s true? You’re fucking this retard?! I can’t believe you!” Brian’s heart raced and when he jumped out of his seat his first impulse was to punch someone. “I said be quiet!” He shouted in Michael’s face, temporary undecided what to do with his shaking fists. “But this is sick!” Michael’s expression showed a brief sign of fear, his eyes huge. He gestured to the disturbed boy next to him. “Fucking look at him!” And Brian did. And he grabbed a hand full of his friend’s pullover, pulling him roughly out of the way, before he took hold of Justin’s wrist. The pale skin felt warm and soft under his hand. “Justin, come here.” His voice wasn’t nice but filled with suppressed rage and concern. “Stop hurting your head.” He pulled him firmly out of the booth, the starring eyes and whispered words from the other guests around him making his stomach boil. “Brian!” Michael stood ignored a few steps away, a disbelieving look on his face. “What are you doing?!” Brian didn’t know. And he wanted to cover his ears and shut his eyes and disappear, when he dragged a rigid, screaming boy through a gawking audience and out of a ringing door. The cool air on his hot skin almost hurt and he clenched his teeth and drew his hand around a thin wrist tighter, because Justin fought vehemently against him. He stopped in front of his car, rummaged hectically for his key in his jacket and finally pushed Justin into the closed car door, shouting in his face on the top of his lungs. “SHUT UP DAMNIT!” And he dug his nails into the boy’s thin arms and wanted to shake him and say so much more. But then he looked into confused flickering eyes, heard the nervous counting, almost soundless numbers coming out between rosy lips… And he placed his hand over a pale cheek and wrapped his arm around a softly back and forth rocking body, burying his nose into a sweet smelling neck. And he knew he held his boy too tight. And he didn’t want for this sniffle to come out loud. And he stood there for a long, long time in the cold street in front of his car and really didn’t know what the fuck he was actually doing… -------------------- Seven steps over a black street, covered in damp snow. Two hundred forty stairs up through a stinking stairwell. A strange smell on the dismal corridor. Brian rubbed the knuckles of Justin’s fingers the entire way and closed the heavy door 4.11 tightly shut as soon as they entered the room. It was cold and Brian tried not to look around when he put the two bags on the table and started to unpack the contents. Justin sat on the edge of his bed, looking blankly up at the ceiling. Brian tried to ignore that too. And he put the empty bags into the wardrobe, arranged thirteen books on the shelf and went over to the bed to put a farfalle noodle necklace and an old fairy tale book securely under the cheap pillow. He sniffed through his nose. “Okay, I have to go now.” “Yes.” Justin blinked his blue eyes. He would’ve preferred to go over to the castle again to… “…be with Prian.” Brian drew his lips inwards and slid one hand around the boy’s neck, stepping a little closer. He shook his head. “You can’t.” He felt the need to smile, but it hurt his stomach when he tried. Justin’s eyes remained towards the ceiling, but they flickered and cool fingers came up to hold onto the prince’s strong wrist. Brian tipped his forehead to Justin’s, caressing a smooth cheek with his thumb. “You’re not...” He whispered almost too low for his own ears, but he didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “You’re not alright.” The last word was broken and he closed his eyes as he kissed Justin’s nose and his legs felt weak when he left the room. The clicking noise of the door lock stabbing his chest. And the dagger moved painfully deeper, searching for his heart when he heard a dull thud against the door. The sound of crying. His name with a big P. P like prince and pudding. P like pain. P like pathetic Prian Kinney… His palm lay flat on the cold door and he touched the immovable surface with his nose and forehead, breathing warmth against it. “Be brave.” He didn’t know to whom he addressed this plea. He didn’t know what to think or do. He didn’t know anything… Except that it was time to leave. ----------------------