JUST ANOTHER DAY In the Kinney-Taylor household

It had been two days since I've seen Tim. Not that I was too concerned about it, but I was curious about what the guy was planning to do. Brian didn't seem that interested when I told him my thoughts, but that's just how Brian works. He refuses to stress about anything until it bites him in the ass. That's where I come in. I always make sure that nothing happens to Brian. Whether he knows this or not, I'm willing to do anything to keep him safe.

So today started like any other day, Michael stopped by in the afternoon to go other an episode of Rage. He's been pretty indifferent lately. I think he's a little afraid of me over what happened the other night. I can understand that. I'm sure he was pretty surprised to see me shoot a man between the eyes, especially since it was a man with a gun aimed at his throat. But things like that don't really bother me. I suppose it should though, right? But I can't spend time thinking about it. All I know is that I love Brian, and I will do anything to keep him safe and us together. Does that make sense? So I kill people. I've only killed four. That's that not bad. And it wasn't like they were good people or anything. It doesn't bother me. I think that surprised Brian the most when he realized that. But it's not like it bothers him to go around beating people up and shooting them and shit...so why should it bother me?

In any case, I was in the kitchen making a sandwich while Michael sat on the sofa looking at the sketches I had made. He was so quiet that for a moment I forgot he was even sitting there.

The only reason I remembered that he was, was because the door suddenly gave a loud knock and Ray walks in. Now generally I lock the door, but sometimes I forget. It's not like anything would happen: we have body guards. But when I heard Ray walk in, I knew I should have had the door locked. You see, just yesterday, Ray was over at the loft with Jerry, Alex and Bobby. Ray was acting like an ass and I couldn't keep my mouth shut. So I told him off and he couldn't think of anything to say back to me. The guys all cheered, which only made Ray more pissed off. He tried to shrug it off, but he gave me this look that made me know that it wasn't over. I didn't care though. All of Brian's men know that I have a sharp-tongue along with my smartass behavior, and they accept it. In fact, I think it truly amuses them. I can understand that: in their line of work they need to find humor in something or someone. Unfortunately, Ray has never really treated me like..well..a person. I think he might have even once referred to me as "Brian's whore." Trust me, you don't even want to know what I made Brian do as an act of revenge, but let's just say that it involved Ray helping the cleaners "clean" a room with shit all over it. I think Ray had an idea that it was me that suggested to Brian to have him do the job...of course he had no proof, but after that incident he was always even more of an ass to me. I guess yesterday was his last straw.

I continue working on my sandwich, taking my knife. Ray saunters over to me, "Brian's still not back?" "Nope," I answer, keeping my back to him. "So I bet you think you're pretty smart." He sneers, walking closer towards me. "Actually, Ray, I know I'm smart. Have you seen my SAT scores?" He makes this awful sound that may constitute as a laugh. "You really are a piece of work." "Why thank you, Ray." I keep my voice pleasent, which only pisses him off more. He stands directly behind me, his breath reeking of cheap alcohol, "We weren't finished yesterday, boy." I don't answer him, instead, I start to cut my sandwich in half. Call in instinct, but I felt his right hand coming towards my right arm before he even touched me. I immediately switched the knife to my other hand, and he quickly grabbed my arm, swinging me around to face him.

He didn't expect the knife to be in my left hand. He also didn't expect that I would have my left hand raised, the knife facing outward. As he swung me to face him, my knife, perfectly aligned with his throat, made an almost precise line across his adam's apple. Ray's eyes widened as he immediately let me go, grabbing his bleeding throat. I watch him back away from me, stumbling and then falling backwards as he choked on his own blood. I didn't move. The blood flowed quickly between his fingers and it amazed me how fast the color was draining from his face. He dropped forward, face first onto the kitchen floor. It's then when I remember that Michael is in the room.

I turn to find Michael standing in front of the couch, his face pale. Tears have poured down his face, but I don't think he noticed. His mouth is open, and there is a small sound escaping his lips, but it's barely audible. I think it might be an almost silent scream.

"It was self defense," I state, keeping my voice calm and steady. He doesn't move. He doesn't blink. Shit, Brian is not going to be happy. "Michael?" I ask cautiously. Putting my knife in the sink, I take a step towards Michael. "It's okay, Michael. Michael, can you hear me?" His mouth moves, but no sound comes out. I try again, "Michael?" "Is...is he dead?" he asks, his voice sounding like a frightened child. I nod, stating again, "It was self defense, Michael. You saw it. He was going to hurt me. He would've killed me, Michael. It was self-defense." He continues to stare straight ahead, "He's...he's dead?" I nod, "It was either him or me, Michael. And if it were me, then I'm sure you would have been next. Michael?" "We..we...we should call..call the police." He blinks slowly, trying to look at me, but unable to. "We can't do that, Michael." He finally looks at me. "What?" "Go to the bathroom and wash your face." I say it with such authority that Michael turns and heads to the bathroom without even a second glace. "Wait!" I call, immediately I dig into his pocket and take his cell phone. Michael is still too much in shock to notice. "Okay, go wash your face." He continues to the bathroom. As soon as the door closes, I call the "cleaner." Afterwards, I go to the bathroom to find Michael.

He's sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. Shit. "You okay?" I ask, sitting down on the floor beside him. "You killed him." His voice is flat. Poor guy might need therapy after this. "It was self-defense, remember? You saw it. It was self-defense." "You killed him." "He would've killed me." Maybe I can drug him? Then he can think this was all a bad dream? "I can't believe you killed him. It was just like before...it was just like before...Justin...you..." he turns to me, his eyes wild, "Justin, who are you?!" "Michael, it's me, Justin." He shakes his head, "No, no, you're not...you're a murderer!" Jesus Christ. "Michael, please," I try an other approach, "think how I feel? I just killed a guy! I did it to save us! He was going to kill us!" He shakes his head, "We have to call the police." "No we don't." "Justin, there is a dead body in your kitchen!" We hear the front door open. Michael panics, "Oh shit!" I pacify, "It's just the cleaners." He jumps up, "Brian's maid is here?" I shake my head, standing up as well, "No, I said the cleaners: not the maid." He stares at me like I have two heads. "Justin, I don't understand what is going on!" I nod, "I'm sorry, Michael, this must be really hard for you." "We have to call the police! You said it yourself, it was self-defense." Sighing, I sit up on the counter, I didn't want to resort to this, but he leaves me no choice. "Michael, you know that I'm an honest guy, right?" He stares at me, then answers angerily, "No you're not! You're a lying, manipulative brat! You cheated on Brian with Ethan--" I stop him, don't even go there, man "You don't know shit about what happened, so don't even bring that up, Michael." He stops, surprised by the coldness in my voice. I continue, "Like I said, Michael, I am an honest man. So trust me and truly believe me when I say that you can not tell anyone what you saw here today." "What?" He asks, his voice sounds like he's half-asleep, but his eyes are still wide and wild. "You will keep your mouth shut about this." "I can't! We can't...Justin--" "You WILL keep your mouth shut, or I will have to fuckin' kill you." His jaw drops, the color that had started to return to his face immediately drains once again. "You'll what?" I am very serious as I speak to him, "I will kill you. You will not tell anyone what happened here today. Not your mother, not Ben, not anyone." "But Ben--" "I will kill him." He shakes his head, still trying to make sense out of everything. "Ben might be bigger than me, and more than likely stronger as well...but I will kill him: if you tell him." "Justin, you can't be serious." I jump off of the counter and walk out of the bathroom, knowing that Michael is following me. He stops when he sees that the body is gone, "Where...where?" I take another knife, "I told you, the cleaners came," and as I finish cutting my sandwich, I hear a thud behind me. I don't need to bother looking. I know Michael has just fainted.

****

An hour later, Brian finally arrives home. I can only imagine what he could be thinking as he sees me lying against the ottoman, smoking a joint and staring at the ceiling while Michael sits across from me on the sofa, bawling.

"Um," Brian frowns, "what the hell is going on?" Michael tries to speak, but then cries harder, burying his head in the pillow as he simply points at my direction. I return my gaze to the cieling. We have a nice ceiling. "Ray came by," I announce, inhaling slowly. Brian watches me, turning his attention back to Michael and then back to me once again. Finally Michael sobs, "Eh..kil..em!" Brian stares at him with confusion. I exhale, "It was self-defense." "Aw shit." Brian exclaims, he sounds completely pissed. I keep my eyes closed. "How long has he been like this?" Brian asks, totally killing my buzz. Opening my eyes, I answered, "I tried giving me some of this to smoke. I thought it would calm him down...I didn't expect a sob-fest out of it." Brian shakes his head and goes to the bar to pour Michael a drink. I finish my joint. Brian hands the drink to Michael, guiding the glass to his friend's lips. Michael takes a few sips, and tries to breath more calmly. "You okay?" Brian asks. "No!" Michael cries. "What in the hell is going on?!?!" "You need to calm down, Mikey," Brian says, keeping his voice calm. "No, Brian! We have to call the police!" Michael exclaims, his voice rising. I sit up, exhausted from Michael's tirade. "Michael. Do you love Brian?" He stops. They both do for that matter. Michael nods, "Of course I do, he's my best friend." I nod, Good, I can work with this. "And you want to keep Brian safe, right?" He nods, too afraid to speak now. I smile, "Well if you want to keep Brian safe, then you need to forget about what happened today." Michael's eyes go wide again and he points to me, crying, "He said he would kill me and Ben!" I groan, leaning back against the chair. "Jesus, Michael," I scold. "You make everything so fuckin' difficult." Brian rubs his temples, "Justin, why don't you go into the other room for a minute?" Wonderful. Dragging myself to my feet, I mutter, "Enjoy," and walk to the bedroom. I know exactly what Brian was planning to do and say. He would blame himself for everything. He would paint me as the helpless, love-struck victim. I already know it. He would begin with something like, "You know Justin isn't a murderer, he can't even kill a fly...remember how upset he was when he saw that dead deer on the road? Justin isn't a killer, Michael." And then Brian would continue with how he had DRAGGED me into this life, and how it was never my fault, and so on and so on. Trust me, Brian is very good at making himself look bad and me look like an angel. I think Brian likes that. I take that back: I KNOW Brian likes that. He loves being the bad guy. After about 30 minutes, I hear Brian call out, "I'm driving Mikey home." And as I peer out to see them go, I know I was right. I know because Michael gives me an almost sympathetic smile, like he felt bad for me. I watch them leave before heading into the shower. Oh well.

**********

It isn't until well into the evening when Brian returns. I'm lying on my stomach, naked on the bed, skimming a magazine. Looking up at him, I smile, "Did Michael finally stop crying?" He flops down on the bed beside me, "No thanks to you," he answers, tracing his fingertips down my spine. I shrug, "I didn't expect him to bawl like a baby." He laughs, "Yeah right." I chuckle, "Well maybe a little...OW!" I hadn't expected Brian to spank me. I turn to face him and I can see he's trying not to smile. So he wants to play? I give him my famous pout, "That hurt." "Good," he states, trying to be upset, but failing miserably. I bat my lashes at him, sitting up, "Oh, have I been a bad boy?" It's getting harder for Brian to keep from smiling, "You've been a very bad boy." I leans up against him, my lips barely touching his earlobe, "I need to be punished." That does it for him. Brian gives a primal growling sound as he attacks my mouth with his. Falling backwards, I succumb to his lips, and I am so glad that I am naked right now. His hands roughly run across my skin, grabbing hold of my cock and jerking me off in his hand. I moan, arching my back. "Oh God, Brian..." he licks my throat, gently biting my shoulder. He whispers, "How did you kill him?" I groan, he hand is moving quicker around my cock. "Oh God..." He licks my earlobe, asking again, his voice so fuckin' hot I could die, "How did you kill him?" "Mmmmm," I moan, "I slit his throat with a kitchen knife." I can hear him chuckling, he keeps pumping my cock and I'm so close too cumming. He mumurs, "Did you like it?" Oh God, he is so HOT! I whimper, digging my nails into his back. He chuckles under his breath again, loving my reactions, "Did you like killing him, Baby?" I nod, "He deserved it..." Brian kisses my mouth, whispering, "Cum for me..." That's all he needs to say and I'm cumming all over his fingers with a delicious cry. God, he's good. Opening my eyes, I see him licking my cum off his fingers. I find myself licking my own lips in response. Brian gives me a hungry smile and reaches for the table. He pulls out a condom and some lube, not taking his eyes off of me. I grin, kissing his mouth, tasting the remnants of my cum on his tongue. He rolls me onto my stomach, kissing my back and placing a lube covered finger into my ass. Gasping at the cold, I quickly settle into the warmth of his finger as he thrusts it in and out of me. More..I want more... I bite my lower lip, "Please..." I moan. I know Brian is smiling. He loves hearing me say "please." He pushes a second finger inside of me and I start ripping my fingers into the sheets, "Brian...." I can't stand it. This is sheer torture. His tongue slides down the back of my neck, making my entire body shiver. "Brian!" Before I can turn around and start screaming at him, he quickly removes his fingers and replaces them with is delicious cock. "Oh God, yes!" I groan, burying my head into the pillow. He fucks me mercilessly, and I love it. His thrusts are hard and fast and I'm moaning into the pillow, sliding my cock again the sheets and before I know it I'm cumming and taking him along for the ride. Brian moans, falling against my back, his own cum exploding into the condom inside my ass. Yes, this wonderful night is one of many...just another day in the Kinney-Taylor household