Justin pressed backwards, arching his hips and moaning when the change in angles forced Brian’s cock against his prostate. He could feel the larger man above him and in him, felt his lips softly against the back of his neck and Brian’s hand twining with Justin’s own, knotting with the sheets that Justin was gripping. Two more sharp thrusts and both Justin and Brian were pushed over the edge, collapsing back onto Brian’s regenerative bed, which Justin had come to appreciate.
 
“You should mass market these,” Justin said idly as he lay in Brian’s arms. “Make a fortune.”
 
“You just want one for yourself,” Brian teased.
 
“Well, you’re only refusing to tell me how you got it because this way I have no choice but to come over to use yours,” Justin said. Brian quirked an eyebrow at the blond and Justin grinned, tweaking his lover’s nipple and smirking in self-satisfaction. “I’m onto you,” Justin boasted.
 
“You’re abusing the bed by staying up and talking my head off,” Brian said, but his hand was stroking up and down Justin’s back.
 
“If I were blowing you, you’d be perfectly happy.”
 
Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Your point?”
 
“Just pointing out your hypocrisy,” Justin said. Brian nodded and Justin grinned, shifting a bit more until he was sprawled more comfortably on top of Brian.
 
“What are you doing?” Brian asked when, after a moment, Justin rested his head on Brian’s chest and did not move.
 
“Shh,” Justin whispered. “I’m asleep.”
 
“The fuck you are,” Brian huffed. “You’re not sleeping sprawled all over me,” he complained. He felt Justin’s lips quirk upwards against his chest. Brian made a production out of finding a comfortable position to sleep -- Justin didn’t fail to notice that none of his lover’s movements dislodged him from his resting place.
 
........
 
“Hey,” Justin greeted Brian when he emerged from the bedroom. They’d both already showered, and Justin was sitting at the table eating an omelet he had made. “You need to do some serious grocery shopping.”
 
“I have all the necessities,” Brian shrugged.
 
“Poppers and beer,” Justin said, rolling his eyes. “And some freakish fruit drink --“
 
“Guava juice is not a freakish fruit drink,” Brian challenged.
 
“And what looks like the wretched remnants of a zucchini.” Justin bit his lip as Brian took a seat at the table, and raised an eyebrow when the brunette looked at him. “Do I want to know?” he asked.
 

”Probably not,” Brian answered, which caused the blond to laugh.
 
“Anyway, it’s a good thing I’m an early riser and had time to run and get the stuff for omelets.”
 
“Since when are you an early riser?” Brian asked in disbelief. Which was true, Justin was a night owl. He hated the mornings with the passion of a vampire, but he didn’t think it was appropriate to tell the man that he’d been awoken with a vision of an older lesbian getting shot while she was walking her dog, and it was The Secret Avenger to the rescue. Once he was out, he figured he might as well pick-up some breakfast. Justin distracted his lover by stretching his socked foot out to rest in the other man’s lap.
 
“Hey, did you see this?” Justin asked, tossing the paper across the table. Brian didn’t answer that ridiculous statement, and instead glanced down at the paper. “It must have happened last night,” Justin said. He was mildly disturbed that he had not experienced a vision regarding it but then again, it was likely he was in the throws of passion with Brian and that in all probability overwhelmed any of his other senses. Either way, he’d have to get on this.
 
Brian glanced down at the paper that, in big block letters, declared that someone had kidnapped the newly ordained king of Babylon. “Why are you giving me this?” Brian asked, one hand idly rubbing Justin’s foot as Justin’s foot rubbed him, and the other grasping the fork to eat his breakfast that he’d found kept warm on a dish with a lid in the centre of the table.
 
Justin gave him a look of disbelief. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I mean, I’m just sitting down to breakfast with Rage and the paper says there’s some attack on Liberty -- again. I have no idea why I would hand the paper to you, draw your attention to the article, and ask if you had plans.”
 
Brian rolled his eyes and shoved Justin’s foot from his lap. The blond returned it. “An attack against the King of Babylon is not an attack on Liberty. He was fucking ugly, whoever did it was doing Liberty a favor.”
 
“You were checking him out,” Justin scolded. They had been at Babylon to watch the contest, but apparently had both returned home before there had been any real action.
 
“He was hung,” Brian answered with a shrug.
 
Justin, having finished his breakfast, rose to clear his place. “Well, that’s half of what counts here, anyway,” he quipped.
 
“Only half? What’s the other half?” Brian questioned. Instead of walking around the island, Justin bent across it to reach the sink and place his dish in it, presenting his ass to Brian, who laughed at his antics. “Well, if he looks like something a roach coughed up, then I wouldn’t be venturing anywhere near either of those, no matter how they looked.”
 
Brian was quickly becoming used to this routine. More and more frequently, Justin was spending the night at Brian’s loft, and the subject of Brian’s alternate identity was becoming casual between them. Justin once again surprised Brian by accepting the truth with equanimity, completely unfazed by the reality, by the implications.
 
“Do we have plans for tonight?” Justin asked, as Brian grabbed his briefcase and keys, and Justin gathered his overnight bag and portfolio, and they headed out to work.
 
“Woody’s?” Brian asked.
 
“Sure,” Justin said. “But I have an early morning meeting, so I’m taking the vette, and heading back to my place.”
 
“Of course,” Brian said, tongue-in-cheek.
 
.....
 
Justin passed Daphne’s desk and picked up his work-related files he noticed sitting on top of it, as well as the plain manila envelope she always used when passing along files related to Justin’s other work as a late-night superhero.
 
“I know,” he said when he noticed Daphne rushing over to reach him before he disappeared into his office. He waved the folder at her and she gave him the thumbs-up and he closed the door to his office. He had enough time to hang-up his coat and scarf, drop the files on his desk and open the information Daphne had already scrounged-up regarding the King of Babylon’s apparent kidnapping when there was a knock on his door and Daphne barged in. “Come in,” Justin teased.
 
Daphne closed the door and settled herself onto the sofa Justin had. “Have you told Brian yet?”
 
“Why would I do that?” Justin asked, not looking up from documents he was perusing.
 
“Duh,” Daphne said. “Because he’s, like, your boyfriend? You’re supposed to share stuff like that.”
 
“I can imagine that,” Justin said, finally looking up. “Hi, Honey. What’s for dinner? Sounds delicious. By the way, I’m a gay crusader, championing the rights of homosexuals of this fine city. Well, I’m going for a shower.”
 
“Like you and Brian would ever have pet names!” Daphne said as she laughed.
 
“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian said, as he peaked into Justin’s office. “The Kooning meeting got shifted up to twelve-thirty. Will you have the touch-ups done by then?”
 
“They’re done now,” Justin said, gesturing to the mock-ups that were propped on an easel. “I’ll get James to bring them up. He’s pretty good at not being seen or heard.”
 
“He’s not wearing that god damned lucky tie, is he? That things fucking hideous,” Brian snarked.
 
“Nope, no lucky tie today. His wife threw it out last week,” Daphne offered.
 
“Good for her,” Brian said. “Later.”
 
“Oh my god!” Daphne said as soon as the door had closed, letting out the snicker she’d been attempting to suppress.
 
“What?” Justin asked.
 
“What?” Daphne asked. “Don’t look now, Sunshine, but your significant other has a pet name for you!”
 
“It’s not a pet name,” Justin defended. “And we’re not dating. Not really.”
 
“Uh huh,” Daphne said. “So all those nights you aren’t tucked safely in your bed at the apartment -- you not sharing a bed with Brian at his loft? You’re telling me that you two don’t fuck like rabbits?”
 
“No, we fuck like rabbits,” Justin confirmed. “We’re just not together.”
 
“Just because you don’t call it ‘together’ doesn’t mean you’re not ‘together’.”
 
“What the fuck ever,” Justin said.
 
“You even sound like him, sometimes!” Daphne cried. “So why haven’t you told him about your sexy alter-ego?”
 
“It just doesn’t feel right,” Justin said.
 
“Just because you haven’t gotten over the bashing and are freaked-out about trusting people, doesn’t mean you should continue to keep the people who care about you at arms length,” Daphne said.
 
“Do you know what they call him on Liberty Avenue?” Justin asked.
 
“No,” Daphne said.
 
“They call him ‘the stud’. He’s gone through everyone, pretty much. He tricks like crazy and he’s never settled down with anyone.”
 
“Yeah, but you told me he’s also never done repeats,” Daphne said.
 
“It’s just a fling, or something,” Justin said.
 
“Justin.” Daphne sighed and shook her head. “Whatever you need to tell yourself in order to be comfortable with him. I’m just saying that, one day, you’re going to wake up in Brian’s bed with Brian’s arms around you, with over half of your worldly possessions in Brian’s loft, and you’re going to finally realize that maybe what you have is a little bit serious, bordering on permanent. Then you’re going call me and yell at me for not making you tell him about your alter-ego, and I’m just saying, I’m going to have to draw your attention to the fact that ‘I told you so’.”
 
Justin snorted. “Fine.”
 
“Fine,” Daphne said. “Just so you know.”
 
.......
 
Justin was used to breakfasts at Liberty Diner, he was used to drinking at Woody’s with Brian and his friends, and dancing at Babylon. Justin didn’t make friends easily, he never had. The bashing certainly hadn’t helped him in that regard. It surprised Justin, sometimes, how quickly he had felt at home with Brian’s friends, but he soon realized that they were, for the most part, friendly and sociable. Justin’s abilities had helped him relax as well; that, and the incentive that these were Brian’s friends.
 
“What’s up?” Brian asked, when Justin tossed back his shot and bumped his hip against Brian’s side.
 
“I should head-out,” Justin said. 
 
“Already?” Emmett asked.
 
“What do you mean ‘already’?” Ted asked. “We’ve been here for almost four hours. It’s three in the morning.”
 
“Do you need a ride?” Brian asked, though he knew Justin had taken the ‘vette.
 
“No, I’m okay. I’ll see you later,” Justin said. Brian grabbed his wrist, tugging him back into a deep kiss. 
 
“Later,” Brian whispered. He watched Justin walk out of Woody’s, the confident stride, swishing his hips as he walked. 
 
“My, my,” Emmett said, fanning himself.
 
“Don’t start,” Brian said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and handed his pool cue to Michael. “Actually, I should be heading-out as well.”
 
“Hm. Babylon or the baths?” Ted murmured to Emmett.
 
“Though why he’d need anything other than that hot young thang, I’ll never know,” Emmett said.
 
“Neither one of you is actually whispering,” Brian pointed out coolly.
 
“Oops,” they said simultaneously. 
 
“Brian!” Michael called, following Brian as he headed for the door. “Do you need help?”
 
“It’s okay, Mikey,” Brian said. “Go home to the good doctor.”
 
“I can still help! I want to help!” Michael defended. They stood outside Woody’s, facing off on the sidewalk.
“Not tonight, Mikey,” Brian said. “Nothing’s happening tonight.”
 
“This is Liberty Avenue,” Michael joked. “Something’s alwayshappening.” Brian smirked but didn’t answer; Michael nodded having learned his friend’s mannerisms and habits over the years. “Good luck,” he said. Brian waved and headed to his Jeep.
 
........
 
Babylon closed at three o’clock in the morning. At three thirty it was empty of employees. At four, Rage broke the lock and snuck in the backdoor. He peeked into the backroom, unsure what he was looking for. 
 
The club looked much bigger without men to fill it. Rage found his way to the stage, and then moved behind it, thinking about the night of the kidnapping, trying to remember anything that might be a clue.
 
“The scene of the crime,” a voice said; a voice that Rage was swiftly becoming familiar with. A study lamp switched on to reveal JT, clad in his usual ensemble, leaning over a table where someone had been doing paperwork and left the paper, pencil and lamp set-out. “What do you think?” JT asked, walking over to Rage and peering around at the shadows the lamp cast. “I figure it was Mr. Green in the conservatory with the rope. Your turn.”
 
“I’m not Sherlock Holmes,” Rage snorted.
 
“Good, because I have to say, I don’t look much like a Watson,” JT retorted. “Besides, that was Clue, not Sherlock Holmes.”
 
“I never played it,” Rage said, moving away to look around. 
 
“You missed out,” JT offered.
 
“Clearly,” Rage replied. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 
 
“I didn’t know where the King lived, so I took my chances with this place,” JT offered cryptically. “Though I don’t think there’s anything helpful here.”
 
Rage watched as JT turned away, picking up objects every now and then, though there wasn’t much to manhandle. He followed the other superhero as the blond seemed to wander through the club. “Do you know where they keep the old sets, or lost items?” JT asked after a moment.
 
“How the fuck should I know?” Rage said without thought.

“Well, then what were you hoping to find?” JT asked.
 
“Nothing,” Rage said. “I needed a place to think.” He watched as full lips quirked into an amused smile, and then they parted ways, each following their own path in the darkness.
 
Rage wasn’t certain how much time passed. He retraced his steps from that night, and then retraced what he could recall were the movements of the King of Babylon. There wasn’t much he could recall. Before the contest, Brian had been dancing with Justin. During the contest, they had been checking out and joking about the contestants. Afterwards, they’d left quickly to return to the loft. Brian recalled Justin’s private performance, spurred by adrenaline and alcohol, and maybe a tab of E. The young blond had been hot.
 
“Hey!” JT’s voice called from the darkness. Rage turned, trying to place where the other man was. He spotted him, leaning over the railing above, seemingly just exiting from Sapperstein’s office. “Just thought you should know that I know where the King lives.”
 
“Why do you keep calling him The King?”
 
“Well, do you remember his name?” JT asked. He paused, waiting for an answer. “I didn’t think so.”
 
“How did you get his address?” Rage asked when JT had reached the main level.
 
JT stepped into Rage, his mouth close to Rage’s ear. “I could tell you,” JT said, his breath warm, Rage only just bit-back a moan. “But then I’d have to kill you.” JT stepped away, his entire demeanor shifting back and he grinned. “You coming?”
 
There was something oddly pathetic about having to walk to the apartment complex where ‘the King’ lived. True, they were traveling on rooftops and they were more running than walking, but Rage couldn’t help thinking wistfully of his black Jeep.
 
“This is it,” JT said, stopping on one of the roofs. “Here, we can get in this way.” JT broke the locks to the roof access and they entered the apartment building, easily finding room 501, which was, according to the black-clad twink, the home of the kidnapped King of Babylon.
 
“What are you hoping to find here?” Rage asked as the Avenger once again implemented his lock-picking skills to enter the apartment.
 
“A clue, of course,” JT said. “Come on.” 
 
The king of Babylon was a slob. He had no taste either. Rage picked his way through the dirty clothes that looked like they came from the Big Q that littered the floor. The furnishings were mismatched and clashed with the brightly painted walls. The apartment was cramped. Rage didn’t see anything that could be a clue, but he kept looking. JT seemed to be touching everything. Rage watched as the blond superhero disappeared into the bedroom.
 
“Ah ha!” JT cried, he came out holding a pillow triumphantly. “He had someone over after the contest!” Rage wanted to ask again how the other man could know these things, but restrained himself. He already felt off-balance whenever he was near the blond. It unnerved him to discover that there were, in fact, two men who could affect him in such a way, and he only really knew one of them. He didn’t want to give too much away to this stranger.
 
“Smelling the sheets? That’s a bit tacky,” Rage said.
 
JT only grinned. “They wreak of sex. And,” JT said. “It was one of the guys from the contest. Looks like my prediction was accurate after all.” To Rage’s quirked eyebrow, JT elaborated. “Mr. Green, with a rope.”
 
“Don’t tell me. He fucked the king and then tied him up and gagged him and . what, took him back to his evil layer?”
 
“Well, the king ended up bound, alright. He was hog-tied. As for a secret layer, I’m willing to bet it’s a simple matter of finding the guy’s apartment.”
 
“Fine,” Rage said. “What’s his name?”
 
“What’s whose name?” JT asked.
 
“The guy you have seemingly, and randomly, decided is responsible for all this?”
 
“Oh him,” JT said. “I don’t know.” Rage stared at the masked man for a moment, but he soon realized JT wasn’t kidding.
 
“Well, how is that supposed to help?” Rage asked.
 
“I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas!” JT said.
 
“I don’t believe this,” Rage said.
 
“Well, if he hog-tied the guy then he’d have to live pretty close, right?” JT asked. “I mean, he wasn’t that big, and we’re on the fifth floor. He’s got to be in the area!”
 
“You want to knock on everyone’s door and ask them if they’ve hog-tied and kidnapped someone lately?” Rage asked. “Fuck, we have to go to Sapperstein.”
 
“That creep?” JT asked.
 
“He keeps the name and address of all the guys,” Rage said.
 
“He only needs the winner’s contact information in order to arrange the prize,” JT said.
 
“This is Sapperstein. The man uses any excuse to get information about attractive guys.”
 
JT made a ‘yucky’ face and shivered, and Rage snorted. “Well, I’m not propositioning him, if that’s what you think.”
 
“I don’t know how you go about this, but I certainly had no intention of doing that. Follow me.” It was JT’s turn to follow Rage over the rooftops. They traveled some ways before Rage, dangling from a drainpipe, opened a window.
 
“Visit here often?” JT teased.

“Shut up and follow me,” Rage said, disappearing inside. They were in Gary Sapperstein’s bedroom, a place JT never ever wanted to be. The man was a piece of work and not in a creative masterpiece sort of way.
 
“Wake the fuck up, Asshole,” Rage said.
 
“I love it when you talk dirty,” JT crooned. Rage tried to ignore the blond and kicked at Sapperstein’s mattress.
 
“What? Holy shit!” Sapperstein said, jolting awake and, oddly enough, yanking the sheets up to his chest like a frightened virgin.
 
“Get a grip,” Rage scoffed.

“Please, I don’t want to see what’s beneath those sheets,” JT said. “By all means, pull those covers higher.”
 
“What do you want?” Sapperstein asked.
 
“I want the list of all the participants in the King of Babylon contest,” Rage said.
 
“I only take the winner’s information,” Gary lied. Rage employed his powers and soon Sapperstein was scrambling from the bed.

“Make him take the bedding with him!” JT cried, covering his eyes. Rage stuck his tongue in his cheek but Sapperstein at least picked up a sheet and wrapped it around himself, part of it trailing behind him as he hurried into a different room to find the requested papers.
 
“That’s all I have,” Sapperstein said.
 
“That’s all I need,” Rage said. Rage was turning to the window, but JT paused and glared a Sapperstein. Rage turned around in time to watch the man tumble back onto his bed, unconscious. “What did you do?”
 
“Me?” JT asked, blinking wide blue eyes on him. “I sang him a lullaby and tucked him in for the night.” Rage ignored the blond, climbing out the window and making it to the roof before he looked at the papers he’d collected. “Anything?” JT said.
 
“Everything,” Rage said. “Look, he’s even got pictures.”
 
“What a creep,” JT said. “Uh oh, sun’s coming up.”
 
“I’m not a vampire, are you?” Rage said.
 
“No, but I have a day-job,” JT said. Rage snickered. “You keep the papers.”
 
“You’re going to let me handle this one? How magnanimous,” Rage retorted.
 
“Don’t be an idiot,” JT said. “You have no idea who to pay a visit to. I’ll meet you at Babylon at eleven tomorrow -- or, tonight,” JT said. “Ta!” Rage watched as JT leapt over the edge of the building. Unable to restrain himself, he took a few steps to the edge to see if he could catch the Secret Avenger as he made his way to wherever he came from. He didn’t see a thing.
 
.......
 
Justin made in home, having caught the late -- or early -- bus after changing out of JT’s clothes. He had an hour to sleep and then he had to haul himself out of bed to eat and dress for work. Vance had scheduled an early meeting and had requested Justin be there.
 
“You look like shit,” Daphne offered helpfully, but Justin instantly forgave her because she thrust a cup of strong coffee in his direction. “Learn anything?”
 
“Rage has never played Clue,” Justin offered. “Oh, and I figured out who kidnapped the King.”
 
“I wish you would call him Bartholomew,” Daphne said. “That’s his name.”
 
“Fuck, you mean people still name their kids Bartholomew?” Justin asked.

“I have an uncle named Bartholomew, it’s a perfectly respectable name!” Daphne defended.
 
“I’m too tired to argue,” Justin said. “You drive today, I’m likely to fall asleep at the wheel.”
 
“That’s just what we need,” Daphne said. “Get your perky butt moving.”
 
“There’s nothing perky about my butt this morning,” Justin said.
 
“Aw, Sweetums,” Daphne said. “Your bum is always perky.” She smacked Justin’s bum, which got the blond moving and brightened her day. That’s what friendship was all about, Daphne thought.
 
........
 
Justin had exploited his lover ruthlessly. He’d seduced Brian after work and they’d ended-up at the loft. “I can’t believe I’m using you for your regenerative bed,” Justin whispered to his sleeping lover. Justin had been exhausted for the better part of the day, and though coffee took off the edge, he still was tired. It was nothing that a slow fuck and a few good hours of sleep on his lover’s special bed didn’t cure, however.
 
“Wake up,” Justin said once he’d gotten dressed. He kissed Brian’s bare chest, just above the nipple. 
 
“Hm, what?” Brian asked.
 
“I have to go and pick-up Daphne,” Justin said. “You don’t need to get up, I just wanted to let you know.”
 
“I’ll see you tonight?” Brian asked, slightly more awake.
 
“Haven’t you had enough of me already?” Justin asked with a smile. Brian stretched, wrapping his arms around Justin and then quickly rolling over, pinning the blond beneath him, his mouth leaving wet hungry kisses along Justin’s sensitive throat. “Guess not,” Justin said with a sigh. “Wait, I really have to go.” Brian reluctantly released the blond. “Tonight, at Woody’s. Midnight?” Justin asked. He was fairly confident that they could wrap-up the case of the missing King of Babylon before then. He wondered if Brian felt the same way.
 
Brian paused, seeming to consider something for a moment before he smiled. “Sure.”
 
“You have something to do tonight?” Justin asked, unable to resist teasing the man.
 
“I should be done in time,” Brian said.
 
“Ah, unofficial business?” Justin asked, Brian’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Okay, okay!” Justin joked, flinging his hands-up in mock surrender. “Later.” 
 
“Later,” Brian’s voice echoed as Justin headed confidently to the door. 
 
.......
 
“This one,” JT said, pointed to the name ninth from the top.
 
“You’re certain?” Rage asked. 
 
“Absolutely,” JT confirmed.
 
“Hold on,” JT watched as Rage actually pulled-out a cell-phone, though heaven only knew where the man kept it. It wasn’t like the tight purple suit offered any pockets -- or non-visible hiding places.
 
“You’re calling the police?” JT asked, surprised at the other man.
 
“We’re going to get to him first and make sure it all runs smooth. I don’t know about you, but I have other plans for tonight,” Rage retorted. JT tried to keep a smile from his face.
 
They made fairly good time and arrived at Phillip Grenview’s apartment that, as JT had predicted the night before, was on the main floor of the King’s apartment building. Rage stood back and watched with amusement as JT knocked on the apartment door.
 
“Who is it?” a low voice asked from inside.
 
“Special delivery!” JT said, his voice light. The door opened and the man stood in shock, staring at JT and then his eyes drifted back and he stared at Rage. “Hi!” JT greeted. “We’re part of a coalition to protect gay royalty. I believe you have our king.”
 
“What the fuck?” the man asked.
 
“Excuse me!” JT said with a friendly smile, pushing the man to the side and entering the apartment. It was almost the exact opposite of the King’s home. Everything was coordinated, though there were too many earth tones in Rage’s opinion. It was neat and organized, and in the corner was the king of Babylon, bound and gagged.
 
“Back off, that’s my lover!” Phillip snarled when JT bent to undo the ropes. Rage held up a warning hand and his appearance was threatening enough that he didn’t even had to use his mind-control to make certain the man didn’t move.
 
“We broke up, Phillip!” the King said once JT had removed his gag. “I swear, we broke up,” the king explained to JT. “He’s really bad in bed. I was celebrating my freedom and my friends said the best way to do that, to really say ‘fuck you’ was to do the contest.”
 
“You’re mine! You can’t wave your dick at everyone!” Phillip said.
 
“I’ll wave it at anyone I want to!” the king answered. JT had freed him of all the ropes, and the King actually pulled his pants down and started swishing his hips, causing his dick to swing back and forth.
 
“Stop it!” Phillip cried.
 
“I’m free! I’m free of you!” the King cried.
 
“This is just a little too twisted for me,” JT said, he was carefully stepping towards the door. “Hey, use your mind control to make them stop.”
 
“And what are you going to do?” Rage asked.
 
“Hey, I got us here!” JT said. Rage turned to lovers in mid-quarrel, he planted the suggestion that they keep their clothes on, sit down and shut up. They complied. “God, what a fucked-up night.”
 
“Rage,” Horvath said stepping into the apartment. “And .” he spotted JT.
 
“Just call me, the Secret Avenger,” JT said amiably.
 
“That’s quite a mouthful,” Horvath said.
 
“I aim to please,” JT said. “Well, I suppose you both have this under control.”
 
“Hey,” Rage and Horvath spoke simultaneously, but JT had stepped out of the room.
 
“I haven’t actually run into him,” Horvath said. “But I’ve heard lots of stories. He’s quite a character.”
 
“Yeah, can you deal with these two alright? It was just a lover’s quarrel,” Rage said. “They should be willing to tell you all about it.”
 
“Do I want to know?” Horvath asked.
 
“Probably not,” Rage said. 
 
“Thanks,” Horvath said, but Rage had gone just as quickly and quietly as the Secret Avenger had.
 
.........
 
Brian was late, but he made it to Woody’s. His first stop was the bar where he downed several shots quickly, hoping to get the crazy King waving his dick at his ex-lover out of his head. That was why Brian avoided relationships.
 
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Michael offered.
 
“I told Justin I’d be here,” Brian said with a shrug.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t .bv whatever,” Michael said. Brian knew that his friend wanted to point out that saying he’d be somewhere at a particular time had never meant much before -- there was always the implied disclaimer: subject to Rage business or ‘something coming up’. “He’s in the back playing pool with Emmett and some other guys.”
 
“I just need a drink,” Brian said.
 
“Fucked up night?” Michael asked.
 
“You have no idea,” Brian said.
 
“Tell me about it,” Michael said, wanting to hear what Brian had been up to.
 
“Later,” Brian said. “I have an errant twink to find.”
 
“You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you? Because I’m not really a twink,” Justin said, leaning on Brian as he flagged the bartender down and ordered a couple beers.
 
“Hey,” Brian greeted and they shared a quick kiss. 
 
“Hm, you’re late,” Justin said.
 
“It couldn’t be avoided,” Brian said. 
 
They kissed again, before Justin pulled-back. He took the glass the bartender offered him. “No,” Justin said. “I’m not ready to head home yet. And I do feel like another drink. Come play pool. I’m winning lots of money.” Justin pecked Brian’s lips again and headed back in the direction of the pool tables.
 
Michael was snickering. “You should have used your legendary powers of mind control to bend that twink to your will.” 
 
Brian watched Justin’s retreating back before he turned to Michael. “I did,” he said.
 
For a moment Michael was frozen, gaping at Brian, his mouth open in shock. The moment passed and Michael laughed, bumping his shoulder against Brian’s. “You had me for a minute,” he said, still laughing. “No one can stand-up against your mind-control.”
 
Brian turned away from his snickering friend and looked back at Justin, a frown drawing his brows together as he watched the young blond laugh.