The first words out of Brian's mouth when Justin brought it home was, "Get that thing the fuck out of my loft."
"Brian," Justin said exasperatedly. "Hold him, you'll like him."
"I won't like him. I hate him," Brian said, walking away as Justin approached. Justin followed him all around the loft, finally cornering him in the bathroom and pushing the puppy to his chest until he had no choice but to take it or else drop it on the floor. He took it, but only so the damn thing wouldn't get hurt, because then Justin would make him go to the vet, and he wanted to go to Babylon tonight.
Brian held it in one hand. He wasn't sure how old the puppy was, but he knew it was very young. Its eyes were puffy, as if they had only recently learned to open, and it appeared smushed like Gus had when he was a newborn. A camera flashed, and he looked up and scowled at Justin's tender expression. "You're not keeping this mutt."
"I know I'm not," Justin said easily, and took another picture.
Brian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "So get it out of here."
"I'm not keeping him," Justin continued, ignoring him. "You are."
"Not fucking likely," Brian scoffed, holding the puppy out for Justin to take. Justin turned on his heel and sauntered off to the kitchen, Brian in hot pursuit. "If you don't get this mangy mongrel out of my fucking loft in--"
"He'll keep you company while I'm in LA," Justin said. "He'll distract you from how miserable you'll be without me."
"He'll pee on my floor and chew up my Prada shoes, is what he'll do," Brian growled. "I don't want a fucking dog, Justin. I hate animals."
"You hate everything," Justin said breezily. "Look how cute he is."
Brian looked. "It's ugly."
"He's a purebred golden retriever," Justin said. "He was very expensive."
"An expensive waste," Brian said, but studied it with a bit more interest.
"When I saw him I knew he was the one for you," Justin said with a sly smile. "A cute young blond to pant and roll over for you while I'm gone."
Brian's eyebrows raised. "And lick my face and drool on me?"
"Sure, why not?" Justin laughed. "Come on, Brian. Just give him a chance. I'll be back in a month for Gus' preschool graduation. Keep him for a month, and if you absolutely hate it, then when I get back I'll find him a new owner."
"No," Brian said flatly, finally managing to force Justin to take the puppy. "There is no fucking way I'm keeping that filthy creature for a month, and there's no way you're going to convince me otherwise, so just drop it." The intercom buzzed before Justin could respond, and he went over to answer it. "Yeah?"
"Hey, it's me and Gus," Lindsay said, and Brian pressed the access button. When the elevator opened, Brian put his arms out for Gus. "Come here, sonnyboy." Gus flew at him, and Brian scooped him up. He looked at Lindsay, "What's up?"
"What do you mean?" Lindsay said as they walked into the loft. "Justin told me to bring Gus over to meet your new dog."
"Is that him?" Gus squealed; wriggling out of his father's arms and running to Justin, who bent down so Gus could see. Gus petted it reverently, then asked, “Daddy, what's his name?”
“It doesn't have a name, sonnyboy,” Brian said, glowering at Justin.
“Why not?” Gus said.
“Because no one's named it,” Brian said.
“Why not?” Gus said.
“Because I'm not going to keep it,” Brian said.
“Why not?” Gus said.
“Because I don't like it,” Brian said.
“Why not?” Gus said.
“Because it's dirty,” Brian said.
“He don't look dirty,” Gus said, and kissed its tiny head. “He's soft, Daddy. You should keep him.”
“Why don't you keep it?” Brian offered. “Mama will let you. Surely she wouldn't be cruel enough to say no.”
“Brian,” Lindsay said warningly, smacking his arm. “No pets until you're ten, right Gus?”
“Yeah, I'm too little to take care of him, Daddy,” Gus said. “You take care of him till I'm ten, then give him to me, okay?”
“No,” Brian said firmly. “Daddy is allergic to dogs, sonnyboy.”
Gus looked confused. “Luh-lergic?”
“No you're not,” Justin said. “Gus, Daddy isn't allergic to dogs. He's just a mean old grump that wants to throw this adorable little puppy in the trash can.”
“Daddy!” Gus cried, alarmed.
Brian glared at Justin. Justin glared back. “One month.”
“One month,” Brian agreed through gritted teeth.
Justin instantly smiled and told Gus, “I'm just teasing, Gus. Daddy loves the puppy. He's going to let him stay so that you can play with him.”
“Yay!” Gus cheered, and hugged his dad's legs gratefully. “Daddy, you're my best friend!”
“It's only for a month,” Brian warned Gus. “So don't get too attached.”
“May I hold him?” Gus asked eagerly.
“Okay, but you have to sit down first,” Justin said, leading him over to the couch. Gus settled down on it and Justin knelt down in front of him and gently laid the puppy in the cradle of Gus' crossed arms. “Be very careful, okay?”
Gus nodded. “I know how to hold babies. I hold my sister all the time. See?”
“Yup,” Justin said approvingly, stroking the puppy's belly. A camera flashed and he looked up, grinning as Brian snapped another shot.
* * *
"You should name him Sunshine," Justin suggested at dinner that night, as the puppy slept in its wire crate.
"I'm not naming it anything," Brian said. "And if I was naming it something, I sure as hell wouldn't name it after you."
"Then name him Brian Junior," Justin said, laughing at Brian's scowl. "Name him Trick."
"I'll name it Pain-In-My-Ass, because that's what it's going to be," Brian said.
"Oh, come on. Didn't you ever have a dog as a kid, or at least want one?" Justin asked.
"No, what the hell would I want with some drooling, shitting, disgusting beast?" Brian sneered. "And you sure as hell better make sure it's housebroken before you leave if you want it to still be here when you get back."
"He's housebroken. You just have to change the newspaper in his crate, but he won't go on the floor."
"You just have to change the newspaper," Brian amended.
Justin rolled his eyes. "Right. Anyway, he's going to need some obedience training, but I can set that up for you. And he'll need his second set of shots and deworming in three weeks, I already made the appointment."
"It's ready for training? How old is it?" Brian asked, remembering how small and fragile the puppy felt in his hand.
"He's seven weeks," Justin said. "He's just a runt."
"You brought home the runt?" Brian said, "You don't know me at all."
* * *
The next morning went fine; Brian ignored the damn thing and let Justin take care of it, but eventually Justin left to do Important Justin Things, that Brian never asked about because he didn't want to have to sit through an answer. He glanced at the sleeping pup warily. He hoped it would stay asleep until Justin came back, but he doubted he'd be that lucky. Sure enough, a couple hours later he heard whimpering coming from the crate. He went and peered into it. "What the fuck are you whining about?”
The puppy looked up at him sadly and made a plaintive noise.
"What's your problem, you little fleabag?" Brian frowned. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Justin.
"Hello?"
"Hey, the beast is crying," Brian said. "You better come home and shut it up."
"He's probably hungry. Feed him three-fourths of a cup of puppy chow," Justin told him.
"What about me? I'm hungry. Who's gonna feed me?" Brian complained.
"Make yourself a sandwich," Justin said. "I've got to go, okay? I'll see you later."
Brian said, "Yeah, be here for dinner. I'm making Beast Stew."
* * *
When Justin came back and found the puppy still in its crate, he was pissed. "Did you keep him in here the whole time?"
"It was fine," Brian said.
"He's a puppy. He needs to be free to romp around and explore," Justin said.
"Well then let it romp into the street and explore some oncoming traffic," Brian said, grabbing his jacket. "I'm going out. Have fun with the beast."
"What about dinner?" Justin said, nodding toward the bags of Mediterranean takeout he'd brought.
"Looks like you've already got a date." Brian slammed the loft door behind him.
* * *
Michael answered the door and asked, "What are you two fighting about now?"
"Can't a man visit his lifelong friend with no motive other than to bask in their unbreakable bond?" Brian put an arm around Michael and kissed his forehead.
"Sure..." Michael said. "So what did you do this time?"
Brian said, "He brought home a fucking hell hound."
"A dog?" Michael laughed. "Brian Kinney has a dog?"
"I don't have a fucking dog," Brian said tersely. "There is a fucking dog in my loft, but I don't have it. It's just...there. Temporarily. For now."
"What does it look like?" Michael wondered excitedly. "Man, remember how much I wanted a dog when we were kids? But Ma never let me have one."
"Now's your chance," Brian said. "Free to a good home, Mikey?"
"Oh no, no way," Michael shook his head. "First of all, Justin would slaughter me, I'm staying out of this. Second of all, I have no room for a dog in this apartment."
"You've got experience taking in strays," Brian tried, but Michael said, "So do you."
Suddenly Hunter came tearing through the living room, calling, "I'll be home by curfew. I've got my phone on me. Later!" over his shoulder as he left.
"Another girlfriend?" Brian asked.
Michael nodded. "At least you can get your new stray neutered.”
* * *
The next few days were also fine because Justin watched over the damn thing, taking it along when he went out rather than leaving it alone with Brian. Justin fed, watered, walked, and played with the dirty little wretch and kept it out of Brian's way. The puppy slept in its crate and only whined when it needed something, and though Brian definitely still hated it; he didn't hate it enough to throw it out. Yet.
But on the day that Justin was to leave for LA, reality hit Brian hard: he'd be its new caretaker. “Fucking take it with you,” Brian demanded as Justin smothered the puppy in farewell kisses.
“No, he's yours,” Justin said, placing the pup back in his crate. “See you soon, doggy. Take good care of Brian for me.”
Brian walked up beside him and tossed a bottle of Xanax into the crate. “I won't be back for hours. Get creative.”
“Brian!” Justin said angrily, snatching the bottle up. “You're going to take care of him, aren't you? I don't want to have to worry that you're peer pressuring our dog into committing suicide while I'm at work.”
“He's my dog,” Brian reminded him, sliding his arms around Justin's waist and tugging him close. “He's dealing with a lot of issues right now. If he does something rash, am I really to blame?”
Justin raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Issues?”
"His precious Sunshine is abandoning him,” Brian said mournfully. “However will he survive?”
Justin smirked. “I'm sure he'll manage. Besides which, that's what you're here for. You'll love him for me.”
“Love a dog?” Brian grimaced at the idea.
“It's surprisingly easy,” Justin said mischievously, “Take it from me.”
* * *
Justin wasted their last moments in each other's arms at the airport trying to procure a promise from Brian to take care of the puppy. “Promises are bullshit,” Brian said. If there was one thing he thought Justin knew by now, that was it.
“That's fine, then lie to me,” Justin said. “But I'm not getting on that plane until you tell me you're going to love that doggy.”
“Well then I guess you're staying here,” Brian shrugged. “All the better. Now I won't have to find someone else to pick up my dry cleaning.”
“They deliver,” Justin said. “Now fucking tell me you'll love the fucking doggy.”
“Jesus Christ, stop calling it a fucking doggy,” Brian said.
“I thought you liked fucking doggy?” Justin teased.
Brian rolled his eyes and heaved a huge sigh. “I promise not to kill, starve, or beat your precious filthy beast while you're too far away to avenge his death.”
Justin grinned and hugged Brian tighter. “I want you to transfer all the love you'd be giving me onto the doggy. But not in a creepy, peanut butter-licking way.”
“No bestiality,” Brian vowed, leaning his forehead against Justin's and closing his eyes. They stood like that until first class passengers were called to board the plane, and Justin sighed shakily and said, “I'm going to fucking miss you.”
Brian kissed Justin's eyelid, then his cheek, before crushing their lips together one last time. “Here's the deal, Sunshine. You take care of yourself, and I'll take care of the beast.”
“I love you too,” Justin said, flashing an impish smile despite his suspiciously shiny eyes.
* * *
As he worked at his computer that night, Brian stared at the puppy. The puppy stared back, his tongue lolling out; he seemed to be smiling. “Don't smile at me,” Brian commanded, but the puppy just hopped around in a circle, then looked at him again. It was a clear invitation to play. Brian went to the crate and let the puppy out. “If you romp on any of my shit, you're going to be exploring the furnace.” He went back to his seat.
The puppy ran around the loft, gaining too much speed and skidding when it tried to stop near Brian, instead crashing into his leg. “You stupid beast,” Brian said, scooping it up with one hand to look it in the face. The puppy took the opportunity to lick his nose. Brian glared at it, “You're disgusting,” but it just licked him again and batted his face with its paw. He watched the puppy as it wiggled around, finally admitting, “You look damn good for your age, though. I would've sworn you were much younger than two months. I admire that.” He put the puppy down and it circled his ankles before running off.
He went back to work for a while, until he heard muffled growling coming from the bedroom. He followed the noise and found the puppy gnawing on one of Justin's ugly baggy shirts. “Bad beast!” Brian scolded, yanking the shirt away and spanking the puppy's bottom. It tucked its tail between its legs and lowered its head. Brian considered it, then said, “Not that I really blame you. Something as hideous as this shirt deserves to die.” He put out his bare foot and stroked the puppy a little, and it instantly rolled over on its back and grabbed him, chomping lightly on his big toe. Brian laughed, surprised, and shook his foot around so the puppy could grapple with it. It was going nuts, writhing around and growling menacingly, and Brian egged it on. “It's important to have that killer instinct, Beast. Especially for a runt like you.”
His phone rang, and Brian abandoned their game, the puppy chasing after him as he walked into the living room. “Kinney.”
“Hey, Brian,” Justin said.
“What do you want? I'm in the middle of torturing your dog, and I don't want the branding iron to cool down.”
“Asshole,” Justin laughed. “How is he?”
“I'm not sure, I haven't seen him in a while,” Brian sat on the couch and the puppy tried to jump up next to him, but couldn't make it. He picked it up and it climbed onto his lap and put its paws on his chest, trying to lick his face. He put his hand up to block the puppy and it wrestled that instead. “Last time I saw him, he was running around with a pair of scissors.”
“Uh oh,” Justin humored him. “I guess you'd better baby proof the house.”
“I guess you'd better suck my dick,” Brian said.
“Well, I'd love to, but you're too far away,” Justin purred.
“Not my fault,” Brian said.
“I know. It's mine,” Justin said tensely.
Brian snorted. “Don't be a drama princess, I've already got one to deal with here. You know what he just did?”
“What?”
“I caught him chewing on a shirt, and when I--"
“Wait, just give me a minute to process this,” Justin said. “Brian Kinney is telling cute pet stories.”
“It's not cute!” Brian snapped. “I was just going to tell you what a whiny little twat he is, much like yourself, but forget it.”
“No, I'm sorry. Tell me,” Justin begged.
“No, fuck you. I'm through. How's LA?” Brian said.
Justin sighed.
* * *
When the obedience training service called to confirm the sessions Justin had scheduled, Brian asked how much it would cost to have someone come to his house instead. “We need to have the animals in the facility to train them, but we can arrange a private trainer, although the fee is, um, considerably higher.”
“How late can I drop him off? Midnight to one?” Brian figured it was worth a shot.
“Sir, we close at nine-thirty,” the receptionist told him. “But if you'll allow me to put you on hold, I'll ask the owner what we can arrange?”
“Sure,” he said, and then suffered through a muzak version of “My Heart Will Go On".
Eventually she came back on the line. “Mr. Kinney? We have a trainer willing to instruct your pet from nine-thirty to ten-thirty, if you'd be interested in that?”
Nine-thirty was a little early to hit Babylon, but at least he'd have an hour to go to Woody's and get his cock worshiped. “That will do.”
“Wonderful, sir. If you could arrive around eight forty-five tonight, we need you to fill out some paperwork for us,” she said. “And um, he's a golden retriever, yes? But there's no name listed...”
Brian started to say he wasn't pathetic enough to name a dog, and she'd have to wait until Justin came back and let him do it. But he knew Justin would name it 'Sunshine' or 'Honey' or something equally lesbianic, so he said, “I call him 'Beast',” and left it at that.
* * *
The trainer ended up being hot, dark and muscular, but Brian thought he should wait until Beast graduated before going in for the kill. Some tricks didn't appreciate his hit-and-run routine, and he didn't want this guy to welsh on the after-hours arrangement, because then he would lose his precious hunting hour.
Beast had never been left with a stranger before, in fact it had never been outside of the loft without Justin or Brian accompanying, and it didn't seem eager for the experience. When Brian dropped it off, it ran to the glass door and began scratching and yapping frantically. Brian stared at it for a minute, then opened the door and picked it up. The puppy licked his face gratefully, but Brian held its snout to stop it and said, “Look, you need some discipline so I can leave you at home without locking you up. You want that, right?” The puppy wagged its tail and tilted its head curiously. “Yes, you do,” Brian answered for it. “So suck it up and get trained. You might as well learn now that nothing in life comes without sacrifice.” He put the dog on the floor and directed it toward the trainer. “See him? He's Bert.”
“Brad,” the trainer said.
Brian ignored him. “And he's going to teach you how to not chew shit up, so you can romp and explore and all that other puppy bullshit. He's not going to hurt you, and I'll be back in a fucking hour. So quit being a brat and go get an education.”
Meanwhile, Brad crouched down on the floor and held out a rag bone, shaking it enticingly. “Come here, Beast. Come on.” Beast took the first few steps reluctantly, then glanced back at Brian. Brian looked at it expectantly, and it bounded off and pounced on the bone. “You can go ahead, he'll be fine,” Brad said.
Brian looked up sharply and raised an eyebrow at him, dryly replying, “Thanks for the reassurance. I would've worried myself sick.”
* * *
By complete coincidence, the day after Beast mastered the art of sitting-on-command was the day Brian decided to take him to the diner for the first time. He covered the passenger seat of the 'vette with a towel and threatened all kinds of bodily harm if Beast pissed in his car, and then carried him from the street to the diner, letting him down once they were inside. He said, “Heel,” but that was mainly for looks, because Beast shadowed him regardless. He found an empty booth and waited for Michael to show up, which he did, a few minutes later. “Hey, did you order yet?”
“No, but I've tried several times,” Brian said, his voice raising with each word.
“Keep your pants on!” Deb yelled back.
“A phrase I rarely hear,” Brian remarked, scanning a menu halfheartedly. He'd had it pretty much memorized for years. “Did you get those promo Rage posters yet?”
“Yeah, they arrived this--WHAT THE FUCK?!” Michael screamed, jumping up. He looked under the table. “Christ, Brian, that fucking dog just walked over my foot. I nearly shit my pants! Warn a guy next time. Fuck!”
Deb, whom had come over to see what the fuss was, freaked out when she saw Beast. “Holy shit, Brian, is that your fucking dog?”
“Temporarily,” Brian conceded.
“What the fuck were you thinking, bringing it in here?” Deb hollered. “Have you ever heard of health code violations?”
“Yes,” Brian said. “But as a frequent patron of this fine dining establishment, I was fairly sure you hadn't.”
Deb put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Get it out of here.”
“He's not going to bother anything. Look,” Brian said, picking up the puppy and standing it on the seat next to him. “Sit, Beast.” Beast sat. Brian patted its head, watching Deb for her reaction.
“You have five fucking seconds to get out that door,” Deb warned him, unimpressed. “And I don't want to see his cute little furry butt in here again, you got that?”
Brian rolled his eyes and picked up Beast, nodding his head at Michael. “Come on, Mikey, I'm in the mood for Indian.” He looked at Deb and added frostily , “We'll have it delivered.”
* * *
“Hey.” Brian answered his phone.
“Hey yourself,” Justin replied. “Are you busy?”
“No,” Brian said shortly, and Justin said, “Hmm, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Brian said.
“Where are you?” Justin pried.
“Fuck, you're annoying,” Brian griped. “Why the fuck does it matter where I am? I'm right where you left me, in Pittsburgh. Where the fuck are you?”
“You're hiding something,” Justin sing-songed. “Why are you trying to be sneaky, Mr. Kinney? You know I'll figure you out.”
“Fuck off,” Brian grumbled. Beast started yipping and Justin asked, “What's his problem?”
“He's attempting to kill a squirrel,” Brian said. “But unfortunately tree-climbing isn't his strong point.”
“A squirrel? You got a squirrel?” Justin asked.
“Yes, and I grew a tree,” Brian said sarcastically. “I'm at the fucking park.”
“You brought him with Gus?” Justin guessed. Brian didn't say anything. Finally Justin tentatively said, “Brian, did you take our dog to the park?”
“What's this 'our' bullshit? You gave him to me,” Brian evaded. “So tell me how fucking glad you are to be out of the Pitts.”
“Mm, I can't right now, I've got a meeting in a few minutes. I just called to tell you I'll call you later, around eleven your time, so answer your phone, okay? I have no plans at all tonight except to have hot phone sex and hear all your cute stories about our dog,” Justin said.
“Fuck you,” Brian said.
“Save the dirty talk for tonight, lover,” Justin teased, and hung up before he could retort.
Brian smiled ruefully, slipping his cell into his pocket and watching Beast tramp through a clover patch. A couple of hot joggers passed by and stopped at the sight. “Oh my god, he is so adorable!” The shorter of the two gushed, flashing a dimpled smile. “Is he yours?”
“He seems to think so,” Brian said. Beast noticed the newcomers talking to Brian, and went to stand between them. “Sit,” Brian ordered, and the puppy obeyed.
“Oh my god, he's so smart!” The taller one exclaimed. “How old is he? I can't believe he already listens!”
“He's a purebred golden retriever,” Brian informed them, looking bored. “They're an extremely intelligent breed.”
“Really?” The short one said, as if this was the most interesting information he'd heard in weeks. Brian talked to them for a bit longer, eventually getting both of their numbers. When they moved on, another jogger stopped. And another after that, and then some rollerbladers, and a few bikers, and there was one jailbait skater boy that Brian wasn't sure he'd call even though he'd claimed to be in college. But after nearly two hours, Brian picked up Beast and left, because the puppy looked thirsty and Brian wasn't sure of his moisturizer's SPF factor. Back at the loft, Brian fed Beast a Snausage, telling him, “Good boy. You get a treat for all those tricks.”
* * *
“...spread them apart and flick my tongue over your hole,” Justin murmured seductively. “And the muscles in your thighs and back would flex, oh god, and you would...mmm...tell me...”
“I would tell you to not get any funny ideas, because when you're done licking my ass, I'll be ramming my cock up yours,” Brian said.
“Plenty of time for that. Right now I've got you right where I want you: facedown at my mercy, god. Tell me what you'd want,” Justin coaxed. “What would you do?”
“I'd fart in your mouth,” Brian said.
“Brian!” Justin groaned. “Fuck you!”
“I told you, not gonna happen in this fantasy. Save that one for your morning wank,” Brian advised.
“You are such an asshole,” Justin said, but sounded grudgingly amused. “Way to kill a mood.”
Brian said, “In order to kill one, a mood must be set in the first place. It's kind of hard to focus with your dog trying to eat my sock.”
“So now he's my dog?” Justin said. “And since when do you wear socks at home?”
“Since the beast has a foot fetish,” Brian said. “He chews on my toes.”
“So then I should wear socks around you?” Justin wondered.
Brian told him, “If you've forgotten the difference between chewing and sucking, then you can stay in LA, because I've got no use for you."
“Oh come on,” Justin persuaded jokingly, “You know I'm more than a one-trick pony.”
“Speaking of which...” Brian trailed off.
“What?” Justin asked.
“...Nothing,” Brian said, watching Beast tug at his sock. “Nevermind.”
“What?” Justin persisted. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Brian said.
There was a pause, then Justin said in an irksomely patronizing tone, “Brian, do you have a cute pet story you'd like to share?”
“Fuck off,” Brian snapped. “I thought you were licking my ass?”
“Well I was, but your foot's under attack,” Justin said.
“Let me put him to bed. First I've got to change the newspapers and fill his dish.” Brian got up and headed for Beast's crate.
“Fine, I'll wait,” Justin sighed mournfully. “I knew our sex life would suffer after we had kids.”
* * *
“Gus, stop it,” Brian ordered firmly.
“He likes it,” Gus insisted, then consulted the puppy. “You like it, right?”
“He doesn't like it. Stop it. You're worse than Justin,” Brian told him as Lindsay walked into the room with a basket of laundry. She sat next to Brian on the couch to fold it and Gus asked her, “Mama, am I worse than Justin?”
“I don't know,” Lindsay answered honestly. “I'd have to know what we're talking about first.”
“Daddy won't let me name his dog,” said Gus. “But he don't want to name it, so why can't I?”
Lindsay looked at Brian; surprised he wouldn't let Gus do it. Brian said sourly, “It's not that I mind him naming it, but his taste is atrocious.”
“Nuh-uh!” Gus denied the obvious insult in his father's voice.
“Gus, what do you want to name it?” Lindsay asked.
“Fufu!” Gus announced triumphantly. His hands were tucked under Beast's forelegs, dancing the puppy around on its hind. “You like it, right Fufu?”
“Quit calling him that,” Brian demanded. “He doesn't like it, Gus. Stop it.”
“Little puppy Fufu was hopping through the forest!” Gus sang loudly, ignoring Brian. “Picking up the daddies and bopping them on the head!”
“Gus,” Lindsay scolded him, but appeared to be fighting a smile. “Don't make fun of Daddy, it isn't nice. If he doesn't want you to name his dog, then that's okay.”
“No it's not,” Gus pouted. “Daddy's being rude.”
“Fine, then I'll go,” Brian said, standing up.
“No! I'm sorry, Daddy,” Gus said, scrambling over to him, Beast following. “Let's name him something else!”
“Like what?” Brian asked skeptically.
“Simba!” Gus said.
“We can't name him after a cat,” Brian argued.
“Why not?” Gus said.
Knowing where that road led, Brian said, “Look, he already has a name, okay? A woman at his obedience school named him.” Which was true, technically. Brian had just told her what he called Beast; the receptionist was the one who'd made it official.
“What is it?” Gus asked eagerly, hugging the puppy.
“Beast,” said Brian.
“Like Beauty and the Beast!” Gus crowed. “Remember in the movie, Daddy? Remember the funny part when they curl his hair and put a bow in it? That's so funny, right?”
“You're not putting a bow in Beast's hair,” Brian said, sitting down again and hauling his son onto his knee. Beast stretched up from its place in Gus' arms to try to lick Brian's face, but couldn't reach. It settled for wiggling downward and licking Brian's wrist. “You know, sonny boy, if I hadn't already resolved to spend more time with you, this would've been reason enough. I'm starting to fear that lesbianism is contagious.”
Lindsay smacked him wordlessly, never looking up from the towel she was folding.
* * *
“Here,” Brian said, handing over his cell phone as the voicemail beeped.
“Hi, Justin! I miss you!” Gus said cheerfully, stepping away from his dad to assure the phone wouldn't be taken away before he was ready to relinquish it. “I love you! Guess what? I have the best secret ever! I played with Daddy's puppy today! I played fetches with him in the backyard. I throw the stick and I said ‘Fetch, Fu--" Gus glanced at his dad. “'Fetch, Beast!' And it's fun. And then we played with my Blue's Clues sprinkler and I weared my swim trunks but Beast didn't weared nothing 'cause dogs don't wear swim trunks, they only wear floaties. But not in the sprinkler. Then Daddy made me a hotdog but I didn't eat the bread because I wasn't hungry, only a little hungry. Then Daddy let me put Beast's food in a bowl all by myself! You know what I can do? I can do a lot of stuff. I can take out the trash, I can clean my room, I can take a shower. I can wash my whole body and my hair and I can dry myself off and put on my jammies and nobody helps me. Jenny can't do nothing 'cause she's only a baby but when she's bigger, then she can do it. Okay, bye bye, I love you!” Gus finished, and held the phone out to Brian with a grin.
Brian put it to his ear and said, “This kid talks more in a day than I do in a month,” before hanging up. He stretched out on the couch as Gus and Beast wrestled on the floor, wondering when Lindsay would be back. Not that he minded spending time with Gus, but he wanted to step outside for a cigarette. He glanced out the window and was surprised at how overcast the sky had become. Soon raindrops hit the glass. “It's raining,” he told Gus, because Gus liked to be informed of such things as the weather, animal and airplane sightings, all kinds of trivial shit he'd never taken much notice of before Gus was around to remind him.
Predictably, Gus hurried to see for himself, Beast scrambling after him. “Look, Beast! The rain is coming faster and faster, see?” They stood there; pressing their noses against the window as the rain came down harder by the minute. Suddenly thunder rolled, and Gus and Beast both jumped in fright, then ran to Brian.
“What?” Brian asked. Gus didn't say anything, but his face was anxious. “Are you scared?”
Gus nodded, then climbed onto the couch and laid down, tucking his body against Brian's chest. He reached down and pulled Beast up with them, and Beast crawled over Gus to get to Brian, sliding around until it ended up on Brian's head. Brian picked it up and put it near Gus' head, curling his arm around both of them. “Maybe you should tell us a story until the rain is over,” Gus said.
“Why don't you tell me a story instead?” Brian suggested, closing his eyes. He had no intention of falling asleep, just relaxing. Another crash of thunder had Gus clinging to him. “Come on, sonnyboy. Tell me a story.”
“I don't know any,” Gus said nervously. Usually he was eager to entertain people with songs and tales of his own creation, especially his father.
“Don't be scared, sonnyboy,” Brian stroked his son's hair. “Daddy's got you.”
“And Beast will take care of us,” Gus said, petting the puppy. “Right, Daddy?”
Brian smiled and said, “Of course.”
* * *
One night when Brian was picking Beast up from obedience school, the trainer, Brad said, “You've got a great dog.”
Brian looked at him funny, then down at Beast appraisingly. “He's all right.”
“He's adorable,” Brad went on. “And so smart. I mean, goldens are always clowns, but he's really something else.” He scratched behind Beast's ears and said, “Isn't that right, boy? You're a little ham.” Beast's tail thumped as it responded with a friendly bark.
“So then he's best baked glazed?” Brian asked, tongue in cheek.
“What?” Brad asked, startled. Beast jumped up on him and he laughed and said, “Down, boy. Sit.”
Beast quickly sat, and Brian said, “Come here, Beast.” Beast looked up at Brad, as if asking permission, and Brian repeated harshly, “Beast. Come here.” The puppy trotted over and gazed up at him, wagging its tail wildly. He scooped the pup into his arms and told the trainer coldly, “See you tomorrow, Bert.”
“Wait, I wanted to ask you something,” said Brad. “He'll be done this week, but the group class finishes up Friday after next. I was wondering if you'd like Beast to graduate with them?”
“What?” Brian said.
“On the last session of a class, we have a graduation ceremony. It's Friday after next at eight, but all the pets need to be here by seven-thirty so we can set up,” Brad explained. “It's just a little celebration to show the dogs how much we appreciate their hard work.”
Brian stared blankly.
“I mean, I know Beast would love it. And if you don't want to bring him, maybe I could pick him up and drop him off afterward? I hope it's not too weird of me to offer, but you just don't seem like the kind of person that would be interested in this, and I'd hate for Beast to have to miss out because...” Brad trailed off, blushing.
“Accomplishment is the only thing worth celebrating,” Brian said, and then abruptly turned and left. That would have to be answer enough.
* * *
“Brian,” from his tone alone, Brian knew Justin was up to something. He turned off the car radio and said, “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”
“Good,” Justin chirped. “I was going to ask if you still think monogamy's bullshit. What a pleasant surprise. Do you think Emmett plans weddings?”
“Fuck you, what do you want?” Brian said.
“My mother wants us to come over for dinner after Gus' graduation,” Justin said. “My grandmother is in town and she wants to meet you. She's very supportive of my 'alternative lifestyle'. She's a huge fan of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Carson is her favorite.”
“Carson Daly's gay?!” Brian asked.
“You know who Carson Daly is?!” Justin asked.
“Tell your mom we're going to have to regretfully decline,” Brian said. “We've got plans.”
“She knows Gus' stuff is in the afternoon, she already checked with Deb. Trust me, I tried that one,” said Justin.
“I'm not talking about that,” Brian said. “We've got plans for the evening.”
“Oh, do we? To do what?” Justin inquired coyly, probably hoping for a romantic dinner for two at Chez Breeder.
“An appointment at the obedience training center. They're holding a mass distribution of documents verifying the completion of instruction,” Brian said impassively.
“Brian...is Beast graduating from Puppy School?” Justin asked excitedly. “Are we going to Puppy Graduation?”
“Jesus Christ, don't fucking call it that,” Brian snarled.
“Holy shit, we have to videotape it!” Justin said.
Brian snorted. “Was there a point to your call besides the invitation to hear your grandmother discuss her liver spots and bowel movements?”
“My grandmother doesn't have liver spots,” Justin impugned. “She looks great her for her age.”
“Ah, so that's why you look twelve. You got it from her,” Brian said.
“It's rumored Ponce de Leon was an ancestor,” Justin joked.
“I've got to go, I'm at the office,” Brian said, pulling into his parking spot.
“Wait! Don't forget you've got to take Beast to the vet today for shots and deworming,” Justin told him.
“Thanks. I might've missed the reminders you left on my Palm Pilot, desk planner, and cell phone,” Brian said.
Justin laughed. “If Cynthia reminds you when you go inside, don't yell at her okay?”
“I don't need you recruiting others to nag me in your absence,” Brian groused.
“Don't worry, soon I'll be there to nag you myself,” Justin consoled him.
“I'm counting the days,” Brian said facetiously.
“Mm, I bet you are,” Justin answered in kind. “Have a good day at work, honey.”
“Fuck you,” Brian said.
“Soon,” Justin promised.
* * *
Brian glanced surreptitiously at his watch and silently cursed. This business lunch should've been over an hour ago, but the client had sent his up-and-coming son in his stead, and the moron was brimming with the self-importance of an heir. He'd spent the last two hours expounding subjects he obviously knew little about, but Brian just kept smiling. When there was finally a lull in his prattling, Brian said, “Well, this has been--"
“Oh, the dessert cart!” the moron said as a waiter wheeled past their table. “I could go for some crème brule. What do you think?”
“Great,” Brian said curtly. “If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to make a call.” He stood and went to the men's room to use his cell phone.
Michael picked up after three rings. “Hey, Brian!”
“Hey, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, what's up?” Michael asked.
“I need you to go to my loft and pick up Beast. He has an appointment with his vet in half an hour. The information is on the fridge,” Brian said.
“No problem,” Michael agreed easily. “Hey, I can take him to the park afterward. I'll ride my bike and let him run around. Where do you keep his leash and collar?”
“He doesn't wear that shit,” Brian said. “He'll follow you, just go slow.”
“No, I want him to be able to run. I'll just grab one at the Big Q,” said Michael.
“Beast won't want a cheap polyester noose,” Brian said. “He's--"
“A purebred golden retriever,” Michael finished for him. “I know. Everyone knows.”
“That's not what I was going to say,” Brian claimed.
“Sure it's not,” Michael said. “Should I take him home with me after the bike ride, or drop him back off at the loft?”
“The loft,” Brian said. “Thanks, Mikey.”
Michael said, “Hey, what are best friends for?”
* * *
Brian had been home for a few hours when his phone rang. “Hey, Mikey.”
“Brian, don't be mad,” Michael said shakily.
“What happened?” Brian asked immediately. “Where's Beast?”
“That's the thing. I don't know,” Michael said.
“What the fuck do you mean you don't know?” Brian yelled.
“Calm down, let me explain!” Michael pleaded. “I took him for the bike ride, like I said, and I had him on a leash. But there was a car--"
“Fuck,” Brian cut in lowly.
“No, he didn't--let me finish. We were crossing the street and a bus came up, it didn't stop fast enough and it just, it kind of hit my back wheel. Not that hard, but it knocked me over and I fell--"
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just a little scraped up. But when I fell I dropped the leash, and I guess he was scared or, I mean maybe if you let me take him on my own more, he'd be used to me and would've stuck around, but he just, he just took off, Brian. I don't where he is,” Michael said. “And you have no idea how sorry I--"
“Sorry's bullshit,” Brian said. “Fuck, Mikey, you can't do one goddamn thing for me without fucking it up royally.”
“I got hit by a bus!” Michael cried.
“That's your excuse for everything,” Brian snapped. “Justin gets home next Friday. You better find that fucking dog.”
“I will! I promise, Brian! I've already got the gang out looking, and I'm going to make fliers and, I swear to God, I will plaster the city with them,” Michael said.
“Did you call the cops?” Brian asked.
“You don't call the cops about dogs,” Michael said. “Do you have a picture of Beast I could use for the posters?”
“I'll make the fucking fliers, you get your ass out on the streets and find my fucking dog,” Brian said.
* * *
MISSING:
Purebred Golden Retriever, 10 weeks old.
Answers to “Beast".
Since witnessing her mother's death, he is all that keeps my 7-year-old daughter going when she is weak from her chemotherapy.
GENEROUS REWARD.
They congregated at the diner that night for a status report. “Damn, these are fucked up,” Hunter laughed when he saw the fliers.
“Did you have to put our home number on it?” Ben asked.
“And my cell, the store, my e-mail and home address?” Michael said grumpily.
Brian glared at him. “I don't think you're in the position to complain.”
Michael flushed, ashamed. “I know, I'm sorry. As soon as I finish eating, I'm going back out to look.”
“Sweetie, it's getting dark, why don't you just wait till the morning?” Emmett suggested.
“Beast thinks it's dark, too, but he doesn't have that option,” Brian said. “He's probably roving the streets desolately, crying, wondering if he'll live to see my gorgeous face again.”
“I'm not really that hungry,” Michael said, pushing his plate away and standing up. “I'm going back out. Ben, don't wait up, okay?”
“I'm not letting you go alone, I'm coming with you,” Ben said.
“Me too,” Hunter said.
“You've got school tomorrow,” Ben argued.
“So? Beast is just a puppy; he must be scared shitless. We've got to find him before something bad happens to him,” Hunter said.
Brian wordlessly got up and walked out the door.
* * *
It wasn't five minutes into the conversation when Justin asked, “How'd the trip to the vet go?”
Brian said, “I wouldn't know. I was stuck with a client, so Mikey took him.”
“More like you pawned him off. God forbid Brian Kinney set foot in an animal clinic,” Justin scoffed.
“It does seem to defy the laws of nature,” Brian agreed.
“So how's our little doggy doing? Is he being a good boy?” Justin asked playfully.
“I wouldn't know. I haven't seen him since yesterday,” said Brian.
“Why? Where is he?”
“Mikey hasn't brought him back yet,” Brian answered honestly.
Justin said smugly, “Everyone wants to steal him because he's so cute. Tell Michael that when I get back, our doggy better be at home waiting for me!”
“I already told him,” Brian said. “So how's work?”
* * *
Brian wasn't completely unsympathetic to Michael's plight: he was covering the overtime Michael had to pay the comic store employees to work his shifts while he was out scouring the city. The days were passing quickly, and all too soon it was Thursday morning with still no sign of Beast. The only response to the posters had been a few prank calls from stoned teenagers and some weirdos trying to sell them dogs. Brian kept their numbers, in case it came down to that. He figured all purebred golden retriever runt pups looked enough alike to pass. But where would he find one whose eyes had the same gleam of superior intelligence as Beast's? And the same funny, hopping way of running, and annoying habits of chewing toes and going insane every time Brian got within a ten-mile radius?
His phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. “Hey, Mikey.”
“Brian,” Michael sounded excited. “I think I found him!”
“Where is he?” Brian demanded, reaching for his car keys. “Do you have him with you?”
“No, I just got a call from this guy, Richard. He says he and his daughter found a golden retriever puppy wandering around the park a few days ago,” Michael said. “His daughter's grown pretty fond of it, but when he saw the poster, he told her that they had to check it out. He says the puppy's responding to Beast, even though his daughter's been calling it Flower.”
“Jesus, we've got to save him,” Brian said. “I'll come pick you up.”
“Actually, would you mind going alone? I mean, it's not like I'd be able to tell if it was Beast or not anyway,” Michael said. Brian didn't bother mentioning the eye-gleam or the toe-chewing. “And Ma wants me to help her put some boxes in the attic.”
“Fine, I should've known you'd be worthless,” Brian said, already on his way out the door.
“Let me know if it's him or not,” said Michael.
Brian said, “Trust me, Mikey, if it's not, you'll be the first to know.”
* * *
It was Beast. It was definitely Beast, and it was definitely glad to see Brian. As soon as it saw him, it went nuts, right on cue. It galloped up to him, yipping ecstatically. “I guess he must be yours then,” the guy, Richard said. “Sheila sure will be sad to see him go.”
“That's your daughter?” Brian asked distractedly, watching Beast jump in triumphant circles around his legs. “Sit, Beast,” he said, and it obliged, gazing up at him worshipfully, its tail wagging wildly.
“Yeah,” Richard said. “Do you have a moment so she can say goodbye?” Brian didn't see the harm in that, and a few minutes later a little girl walked into the room slowly. She was trailing her fingertips along the wall as she moved, and her eyes were half-mast and unfocused. She was...
Brian looked at Richard sharply, and he nodded. “She's blind,” he confirmed. “Since birth. But she never lets it get her down. She's got a heart of pure gold. Everyone at church, they call her Sunny.”
The little girl came forward carefully and knelt on the floor. “Come here, Flower,” she said, and Beast ran and nuzzled her. She threw her arms around him, giggling. “I hear that your real-Daddy found you. I'm so happy for you, even though I'm sad you're leaving me. I had fun being your pretend-Mommy for a while. If you had stayed, you could've been my Seeing Eye dog when we got bigger. I bet you would've been great. But even though you're leaving, you'll still be my best friend.” She tilted her face up at Brian, her sightless eyes directed in his vicinity. “Do you think he could still visit me? I mean, not all the time, but maybe sometimes? Maybe for my birthday or something?”
Brian tried to speak but choked, then coughed.
She turned back to Beast and said, “I had lots of fun playing in the backyard. I never knew before you, how much more fun the park is when you have a friend. The other kids don't like to play with me because they say my eyes look funny, but you never cared. I really love you for that.” Fat tears rolled down her rosy cheeks, but she kept smiling. “You make a great teddy bear, too. I used to never like taking naps until you came along. I wish you could've stayed with me forever, but I know you can't. I hope you'll be very happy your whole life, and please please please always remember me, because I'll always remember you.”
Finally Brian found his voice. “You played in the backyard with him?
“Oh, sure!” Sheila said enthusiastically. “He sleeps with me at nap, but he stays in the backyard at night. He loves it! It's really big and there are lots of trees and bushes. We play Dora the Explorer. Daddy says you have a daughter, will you tell her to play Dora with him?"
“My kid doesn't live with me,” Brian said. "And I don't have a backyard.”
“Well, I'm sure he loves the games he plays at your house, too,” Sheila said diplomatically.
“I don't play many games at home,” Brian said. “At least, not the kind that Beast can join.”
“Oh, that's too bad,” Sheila said sadly. “Flower loves to play.”
“Of course he does,” Brian said, studying Beast thoughtfully, “That's what puppies do.”
* * *
“What the fuck do you mean, you gave him away?” Michael screeched. “After all you fucking put me through to find the fucking dog, I finally did it and YOU GAVE HIM AWAY?!”
“At my place he's stuck in the loft all day,” Brian said. “Now he'll have a big yard to run in, and a kid to play with. He's better off.”
“He's better off with you. He loves you,” Michael said.
“He loves anyone that feeds him Snausages,” Brian said. “He'll forget about me soon enough. I never wanted him, anyway. He was a hassle.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “You know, this martyr shit is getting old. You liked having him around, Brian; admit it. And having more room to play or some kid to run around with isn't going to make him happier. He's plenty happy already, being with you. That dog fucking worships the ground you walk on.”
“A lot of people worship the ground I walk on, it doesn't mean I'll let them live with me,” Brian said. “Mikey, it's over, okay? I already gave him to Sheila, just drop it.”
“Have you considered how badly Justin is going to kick your ass when he gets home tomorrow and that dog is gone?” Michael asked. “Maybe we should call the hospital now and reserve a room.”
“Justin isn't going to begrudge a little blind girl her only friend,” Brian said.
“No, but he's going to be as disgusted as I am that you never fucking learn,” Michael said. “How many times do you have to go through this before you realize that letting something go because you love it, doesn't mean pushing it away? If Beast was miserable with you, I'd say yeah, let him go somewhere he can be happy. But he's not miserable; he loves you. He's ridiculously happy just to be anywhere near you, how can you just throw him away like that? You've probably made him miserable now by giving him away.”
Brian was quiet for a while, and then he said, “Shut up, Mikey.”
Michael kissed his cheek fondly and put his hand out for the car keys. “Should I drive, or do you want to?”
“Yeah fucking right,” Brian said. “As if I'll ever trust you with anything of mine again.”
* * *
“You want Flower back? Then why'd you give him to Sheila in the first place? It'll break her heart to have to give him up again,” Richard said.
Brian said, “Look, I'll buy her a new dog, but if Beast isn't in my loft tomorrow morning, I'm going to lose my other ball. Forcibly.”
“What?” Richard asked. “What other ball?”
“It's a long story,” Brian said.
“He had testicular cancer,” Michael explained, in a blatant attempt to score sympathy points. Brian smacked him. “It's none of his business.”
Richard squinted at them suspiciously, “I thought it was your daughter that had cancer?”
Michael chuckled nervously, “See, funny story: he doesn't actually have a daughter. But he does have a boyfriend, who's in LA right now doing art direction on a movie they're making about the comic book I write, and if you let us have the dog we'll get you Conner James' autograph.”
“What the hell is wrong with you people? Get off my property before I call the cops!” Richard shouted. Brian tried to offer him a blank check, but Richard threatened to go get his rifle, so they left.
* * *
They went to the diner to eat dinner and discuss their next move. “Fuck,” Brian said, when his cell phone rang and he saw it was Justin. “Hello?”
“Hey, I'll be back tomorrow!” Justin said.
“Really? Has it already been a month?” Brian played astonishment. “I guess time flies when you're having fun.”
“Fun with Beast?” Justin asked. “I wonder if he'll remember me?”
“Well, you won't have the chance to find out, because I gave him to a little blind girl. I tried to take him back, but her dad threatened to shoot me,” Brian told him casually.
Justin gasped dramatically, then laughed. “Well, you obviously have no choice but to dognap him! You can sneak into her house in the middle of the night, dressed in all black, and steal him away!”
Brian wondered why he hadn't thought of that himself. Even better, he wouldn't have to break into the house at all, because Beast slept in the backyard! “I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” he said. “You're a fucking genius.”
“True,” Justin said. “I'm packing right now. I have a lot of new clothes I can't wait for you to hate. And don't worry, I remembered to bring that blue shirt you like.”
“I don't like it, it's just so ugly that I have to tear it off of you whenever you wear it,” Brian maintained.
“Right, that's what I meant,” Justin said. “Any other requests?”
“Make sure to pack...” Brian thought about it. “Your ass, your cock, your mouth, your tongue...you can leave behind your gag reflex, you won't be needing it, and...did I mention your ass?"
“You know, some of us are trying to eat,” Michael protested.
Brian covered the phone with his hand to muffle his voice and said, “Scrape your plate, Mikey. You're going to need your strength.”
* * *
“This is so fucking illegal,” Michael whined as they hopped the fence into the backyard that night. It was three in the morning; they were dressed head to toe in all black and hoping like hell that if Richard woke up, he wouldn't have his rifle handy.
“Shut the fuck up,” Brian hissed, scanning the backyard until he spied a doghouse in the far corner. There was a rope on a spike in front of it, the rope leading into the doghouse. “Look at that, chained up like a fucking animal.”
“He is a fucking animal,” Michael pointed out, but Brian ignored him and stealthily approached the little house. He untied the rope from the spike and tugged on it gently. Nothing happened. He tugged again, a bit harder. Beast padded out sleepily, but instantly awoke when it saw Brian. It leaped at him and started yipping insanely, trying to crawl up to his face to lick him. “Shut the fuck up!” Brian scolded it, smirking. “Let's go home, you stupid beast.”
Suddenly a little girl's voice screamed, “Daddy! Help! There's people in our backyard!”
A light flicked on in the house, and Brian and Michael looked at each other. They sprung into action, racing toward the fence. A window opened and Richard yelled, “You fucking lunatics! Where the fuck is my rifle?”
Pandemonium. Barking, scuffling, obscenities. Sheila screamed her head off, Michael tripped, and a shot rang out in the night.
* * *
Justin hadn't wanted Brian to pick him up at the airport, because he said he wanted to be able to rip Brian's clothes off as soon as he saw him. Brian was pleased as usual with Justin's genius, and made sure to be awake and dressed in clothes he wouldn't mind tearing. It began raining at around ten o'clock in the morning, Brian noted, as he worked at his computer desk. At half past, the loft door slid open. He didn't turn around.
“Brian?” Justin asked, and Brian heard him drop his bag onto the floor, and the squeaking of his wet sneakers as he approached. “Where's Beast?”
Brian turned around, holding a steadying hand on the lump on his chest as a little furry head popped out of the v-neck of his white t-shirt. Beast barked excitedly at Justin and squirmed around, so Brian pulled him out of the bottom of his shirt and held him out. Justin just stood there with a dropped jaw until Brian said, “Here, take him.”
“Brian,” Justin said, in that earnest tone he used sometimes that made Brian feel particularly impressive. He was smiling a little, questioningly.
“He's afraid of thunderstorms,” Brian said offhandedly. “Was there turbulence?”
“We landed before it really started raining,” Justin said as Beast slathered him in puppy kisses. It licked the side of his mouth while he was talking, and he made a face. “Gross.”
“Actually, dogs' mouths are cleaner than humans',” Brian said.
“They don't smell cleaner,” Justin said, his nose still wrinkled.
Brian raised his eyebrows. “Aren't you supposed to be ripping my clothes off?”
“Mm, thanks for reminding me,” Justin said cheekily. “Let me go put Beast away.”
“He'll go on his own,” Brian said. He told the puppy, “Bed, Beast.” It scurried off, and Brian looked at Justin expectantly.
“Woah!” Justin said, impressed. “He's a little soldier! But one problem, he went the wrong way.” Justin nodded toward the crate, which was in the far corner near the kitchen.
“No, he didn't,” Brian said, and stood up, tugging Justin by the hand up the stairs to the bedroom. He pushed him down onto the futon and started stripping, but Justin was distracted by the dogbed in the corner, and the little brown eyes peering at them attentively.
“He sleeps in here?” Justin asked, shocked. “You let him sleep in here?”
“He stays off the bed unless he's invited, and he doesn't fuck with anything,” Brian said dismissively, crawling on top of Justin. “Get naked.”
Justin took off his shirt, but hesitated when his pants were halfway down his thighs. “He's looking at us, Brian.”
“He's curious,” Brian said, pulling the rest of Justin's clothes off for him. “Roll over.”
Beast yipped, and Brian grinned when he saw the pup on its back. “Not you,” he said, then looked at Justin heatedly, “You.”
Justin did it, but kept peeking over at Beast. When Brian's lube-slick fingers pressed into his ass, Justin wiggled away. “Brian, I can't. Not with him here. Put him in his crate.”
“He goes there if he wants to, he doesn't like to be forced,” Brian said. “And it's not like you oppose exhibitionism.”
“This is different. He's a dog. And he's staring. Brian, just...this is different,” Justin said. “I feel weird.” He put his hand on Brian's cheek and kissed him appealingly. “Put him in his crate. Please.”
“It's raining,” Brian said.
“The worst is over,” Justin reasoned. “No more thunder.”
Brian's brow furrowed as he considered. Finally, he got up. “I'll put him in the bathroom.”
“Good, thank you,” Justin said. “Sorry.”
Brian didn't reply; he just picked Beast up, dropped it in the bathroom, and shut the door. He went back to the bed, but before he could lie down, Beast started scratching at the floor and crying. Justin sat up and kissed him, and Brian responded, but after a minute he pulled away. “He doesn't like to be locked up, I told you.”
“Probably because you spoil him,” Justin accused, but Brian went and let Beast out anyway. Then he grabbed Justin's arm and led him toward the bathroom. “We'll do it in the shower.”
“Maybe I don't want to,” Justin said, but Brian just gave him a look and turned on the water. After adjusting the temperature, he stood under the spray and locked eyes with Justin, stroking himself enticingly. Justin sighed, but gave in, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Justin sat on the floor with Gus' graduation presents, wrapping supplies, and a box of permanent markers. His present to Gus was in a big gift bag, but Brian's were still unwrapped. “Why didn't you get the store to do it?”
“You do it better,” Brian said plainly, as he stood at the kitchen counter cutting open a FedEx package.
“What's that?” Justin asked, flipping the wrapping paper over to decorate the blank side.
“A collar and leash,” Brian said, holding up a brown leather set.
“Those are nice,” Justin said, getting up to inspect them. He reached into the package and plucked out the receipt. “Fifi and Romeo's? Brian, this must've cost...you spent over two hundred dollars on a fucking leash and collar?!”
“That includes shipping and handling,” Brian said.
“He's a puppy! He's going to outgrow these in a couple of months!” Justin told him.
“Then we'll have them bronzed and put them on the mantle,” Brian said in a sickeningly sweet tone. “With little plaster paw prints. Baby's First Harness.”
Justin watched Brian call Beast over and buckle the collar around its neck. “We should get him a tag next time he goes to the vet, in case he wanders off. That is, if you're planning to keep him?”
“Hurry up with those gifts,” Brian said instead of answering. “We've got to drop him at the groomer's on the way to Gus' school.”
* * *
Gus' graduation ceremony was mercifully short. Fifteen children in little matching gowns and caps, singing an inspirational song from a Disney movie and reciting the preamble to the Constitution, followed by the distribution of diplomas and other bullshit awards. Gus won “Most Likely to Put A Smile on Your Face,” and danced all the way across the stage.
“Did you get that? Aim it over there,” Brian kept saying, trying to guide the video camera in Justin's hands, while Justin said, “I got it. Let go!” and the other parents glared at them for making noise.
“I know what I'm doing; I'm not an idiot,” Justin snapped, and Brian finally relented.
After the awards were accepted, each child stepped forward to recite a brief speech. Gus' was, “My name is Gus and I am four. I have a new sister and she is zero. She is my best friend that lives with me. My other best friends are Daddy and Justin and Beast, but they don't live with me. When I grow up, I'm going to be a dinosaur and also a Power Ranger.” He sat down, but then quickly stood again and added, “I like The Lion King,” before sitting back down.
“I knew he would work that in somehow,” Justin said, laughing.
“At least he doesn't want to be a fucking construction worker,” Brian said, referring to the boy who'd gone before him.
“Or the President,” Justin said, the chosen profession for over half of the class. The rest of the children said their speeches, Gus' teacher made a closing statement, and then it was over. Gus came barreling toward them, and Brian lifted him into the air. “You did a great job, sonnyboy. Your old man's proud of you.”
“Daddy, you're not old! You're only twenty-five!” Gus reminded him, and Brian glanced at Justin.
Justin laughed, asking, “Gus, who told you that?”
“Daddy did!” Gus said. “He's twenty-five, and Mama's thirty-three, and Mommy's fifty, and you're twelve.”
“I'm twelve?” Justin raised his eyebrows at Brian.
“I said you look twelve. There's a difference,” Brian said. “Gus, don't tell people Daddy's age. I'm embarrassed to be so young.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Gus said, abashed. “I won't do it again.” Then Lindsay pulled him away to go take pictures, and after posing for a few shots, Brian said, “We're going to go get Beast so he can come to your party, all right, sonnyboy? We'll meet you at your house.”
“Okay, Daddy!” Gus said, hugging his and Justin's legs. “See you later! Love you!”
* * *
Gus' main present from Brian was already at his house: a Power Wheels jeep big enough to ride in. He tooled around the backyard with Beast in the passenger seat, screaming and barking at everything they encountered. On the floor of the passenger's side was the large stuffed Simba that Justin had bought Gus, and the Power Ranger action figure he'd received from Hunter.
“Someone should tell him it's rude to aim for people,” Michael remarked, as Ted dodged the jeep's path in a near miss.
“What happened to your arm?” Justin asked, gesturing to the cast and sling Michael was wearing.
“I broke it,” Michael said.
Justin waited for him to go on. When he didn't, Justin said, “How?”
“Trying to jump a fence with a twisted ankle,” Michael said, glaring at Brian.
“And piss-soaked pants, if I remember correctly.” Brian thumped Michael lightly on his good shoulder. “You want a drink, Mikey?”
“Sure,” Michael said.
“Great. Get me one while you're at it,” Brian said with a smile.
“I'll get them,” Justin said. “I want some pizza, anyway.”
“Did you tell him?” Michael asked as soon as he was out of earshot.
Brian watched the miniature jeep tear across the lawn. Eventually he said, “Tell him what?”
“That you plan to buy a new fence for a blind girl's father because he ruined his old one trying to kill us!” Michael exclaimed.
“We don't interfere in each other's finances,” Brian said.
“That's not what I mean, and you know it,” Michael said. “We almost got shot last night! Don't you think you should tell him?”
“Tell whom what?” Justin asked, catching the tail end of their conversation as he walked up balancing a plate of pizza and three cans of Diet Pepsi.
“Mikey broke his arm jumping the fence when we were running away from a blind girl's homicidal father. I'm sending Cynthia over on Monday with some cash so they can fix it. It's really no big deal,” Brian said nonchalantly.
“Oh, the blind girl again, huh?” Justin made a face. “You guys are so weird,” he said, biting into a slice of pizza.
* * *
They left Gus' party around four, went to the loft and fucked until seven, and then came back to pick up Beast and drop him off at the obedience training center by seven-thirty. Brad the trainer acted irritatingly thrilled. “You made it!” he cried, as though it was miraculous, snatching Beast out of Brian's arms.
“He didn't snatch him,” Justin disagreed, as they walked into the Babies 'R' Us across the street.
“You weren't holding him, so how would you know?” Brian grumbled.
“I have eyes,” Justin said. “Why are we going to a baby store?”
Brian rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Hmm, I'll use my critical thinking skills to conclude...I'm probably going to buy something.”
Justin nudged Brian's ribs with his elbow. “I meant, what are you buying? We already bought tons of presents for Jenny Rebecca and Michael.”
“It's not for them,” Brian said, putting his hand on the small of Justin's back to direct him down an aisle. He picked up a set of baby monitors. Justin looked up at him questioningly, but before he could say anything, a very pregnant woman a few feet away noticed them.
She waddled over, smiling. “Is this your first?”
“First what?” Brian asked, but Justin said, “No, our second. Both boys.”
“Oh, together? How precious! Did you adopt?” she said.
“The first is his, he's four. He just graduated from preschool today,” Justin said. “The second we adopted, he's only eleven weeks.”
“Oh my, that's quite a handful, do they get along? I have a two year-old at home, and I'm so nervous about how he'll react when this one is born,” she said, patting her belly.
“They love each other,” Justin said reassuringly.
She smiled at him for a moment, then said, “I hope it's not awkward to say so, but I really think it's great when gays adopt. I mean, there are so many children out there in need of loving homes, and if there's a couple of any gender that's...completely committed and in love, what better environment is there for a child to grow up in?”
Justin squeezed his arms around Brian's waist and grinned up at him. Meanwhile Brian stood there with his arms hanging limply at his sides, unwilling to participate but letting Justin have his fun. “We agree one hundred percent.”
“You two are beautiful together!” the woman said. “Really, just, you look so good together! So in love.”
“It shows?” Justin asked bashfully, fluttering his eyelashes at Brian, whose eyes glinted dangerously. Justin loosened his grip, apparently not about to push his luck. “Well, good luck with your baby. We've got to run. We've got to attend a...” he looked at Brian for confirmation, “mass distribution of documents verifying the completion of instruction?” Brian nodded shortly, and Justin turned back to the woman with a grin, “At puppy school.”
With that, Brian hauled him toward the checkout counter while the woman called her goodbye after them. “So who are these for, then? Mel?” Justin asked, as the cashier rang up the baby monitors.
Brian gave him a crazy look. “No, they're not for fucking Mel. They're for Gus.”
“He's a bit old for these, don't you think?” Justin said.
Brian said, “I have to go out of town next weekend. He's taking care of Beast.”
“You mean Lindsay's taking care of both of them as they wreak havoc,” Justin corrected.
“He's going to sleep in the laundry room,” Brian continued. “So Gus can put one in there, and one in his room, and then he'll know if Beast needs anything during the night.”
“That's clever,” Justin said, impressed. “Did you think that up yourself?”
“No, actually, I learned it the hard way from someone I met recently,” Brian said.
“Do I want to know?” Justin asked.
Brian shook his head, “If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.”
* * *
When they walked back into the obedience training center, they followed the other dog owners into a large room. There was a podium set up on one side of the room, and a curtain blocking a door on the other. Brad was standing at the podium, flashing his bleached teeth and announcing, “We'll be starting in five minutes. Everyone please feel free to set up your camcorders, but I'll ask that your applause be kept gentle. The acoustics in this room are outrageous and we don't want to scare any of the animals. Our youngest this session is only eleven weeks old.”
“That's Beast!” Justin whispered. “He's a prodigy!”
“Well, what did you expect?” Brian said. “Boy geniuses gravitate toward me.”
Justin smiled at him and slipped one arm around Brian's waist, the other holding up the video camera. Soon the ceremony began, with 'Pomp and Circumstance' playing on a boom box in the corner as the dogs slowly filed out from behind the curtain. Beast came last, and though it was the smallest of the group, none marched with more bravado. It sat on its mark beside Brad with perfect posture, its little head held high and staring unflinchingly at the wall behind the crowd. It remained perfectly still as Brad worked his way down the line of pets, tying a ribboned diploma around each dog's neck and remarking on its achievement.
When he got to Beast, Brad said, “Last, but definitely not least, is Beast Kinney. He is one of the youngest pups I've ever trained, and one of the brightest, quickest, and most fun animals I've ever had the joy to encounter. It is with great pleasure that I award him his diploma.” He tied it around Beast's neck, and the diploma was bigger than the puppy. Beast looked pretty ridiculous, sitting there grandly with a piece of paper towering over it, and Justin glanced at Brian for his reaction. The smirk that had been stuck to Brian's face the whole time was still there, but a corner of his mouth was twitching. Justin laughed, and Brian couldn't help but laugh a bit, too. “He's something else,” Justin said.
Brian raised his eyebrows in concurrence as the ceremony was called to completion. The dogs immediately scattered, Beast racing toward them in its trademark hopping run. Brian picked it up and let it lick his face. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sandwich bag of Snausages. “Are you happy to be done here, Beast? You'll never have to see Bert again.”
Beast couldn't seem to decide between licking Brian's face and eating the treat, so Brian handed the pup to Justin and fed it. “Too bad it's so late, we could've taken him to the park,” Justin said.
“We'll take him tomorrow,” Brian said. “Let's go home. He's tired.”
“How can you tell?” Justin wondered, eyeing the puppy, but sure enough, Beast fell asleep on the car ride home. Justin put it in its crate, but pointedly left it open. “Look, he can get out whenever he wants. He's free as a the wind blows.”
“Come here,” Brian ordered, undressing as he stalked into the bedroom.
“You can't just whistle and I'll come running,” Justin warned teasingly, but took off his clothes as he went to him. They knelt on the bed together, and as he pushed him down, Brian said, “Not anymore.”
“Did you enjoyed it while it lasted? When I was a dumb kid and did anything you said? But we weren't equals, Brian,” Justin spoke lightly, but there was a thread of gravity behind it. “It wouldn't have lasted like that.”
Brian didn't say anything; he just kissed Justin's neck and reached for a condom and lube. “You like your little admirers, that just pant at your heels. Then you can take care of them and control them, and you know they'll never leave you because they need you. I'm not going to leave you, Brian, but it's not because I can't. It's because I love you.” Brian paused, met his eyes, and kissed him deeply. When they broke apart, Justin was gasping, but he went on, “Don't you like it better now, Brian? I do. I would never want to go back to the way things were. I don't want to be like Michael, or like Beast--"
“You're not my fucking dog,” Brian cut in. “And you're not Mikey. Who said I wanted you to be?”
“No one,” Justin admitted, putting his hands on Brian's cheeks. “I know you like it better now, too. Because you respect me as much as I respect you. We're both men now. I'm not your puppy anymore.”
Brian didn't speak aloud, but he told Justin all he needed to know with his eyes, and his kisses, and his touch.
Brian had his head under a towel, rubbing his hair dry when the phone rang. He reached for the receiver blindly, answered it. “Hello?”
“Good morning Daddy!” Gus trilled in his ear.
“Good morning, sonnyboy,” Brian said, smiling.
“I dialed the phone all by myself!” Gus said. “I know your phone number!”
“Really?” Brian said. “Does Mama know you're using the phone?”
“Yes, she taught me your phone number yesterday. She said if I remembered it today then I could call you,” Gus said. “May I talk to Justin, please?”
“Sure,” Brian said, going into the kitchen and holding the phone out to him. Justin took it and said, “Hello?” Brian waited to watch the surprised smile spread across his face, but walked away when Justin looked at him.
A few minutes later Justin found him in the bedroom and said, “Gus invited himself along to the park. He said to meet him in thirty minutes.”
* * *
When they got to the park, Gus was standing on the sidewalk with Lindsay waiting for them. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans with the button unsnapped. Brian raised his eyebrows at Lindsay, but she said, “Don't look at me. This is your fault.”
“I don't remember giving him mousse,” Brian said, shifting Beast to the crook of his left arm so that his right was free to muss Gus' faux-bedhead hairstyle. Gus slapped his hand away. “Don't mess it up. I'm cool, Daddy.”
“Okay, I helped him,” Lindsay admitted. “He looked up at me with those big hazel eyes and said, ‘I want to be cool like Daddy.’ How could I resist?”
“Easy: tell him no,” Brian said, but he knelt down and plucked at Gus' t-shirt. “Looking pretty good there, sonnyboy.”
“I look awesome,” Gus told him, then turned to Justin. “Right?”
“You better believe it,” Justin said. “You are the most awesome four-year-old I know.”
“I made lunch!” Gus said suddenly, and ran a few feet away to Lindsay's car. He opened the passenger's door and leaned in, then fell out on his bottom, clutching the handle of a wicker picnic basket. “Somebody help!”
Brian put Beast on the ground and hurried to assistance. “You made this yourself?”
“Yes he did, and I have the kitchen to prove it,” Lindsay said.
Brian said, “We'll have him back in a few hours.”
“Take your time!” Lindsay said. “Seriously. Feel free to keep him as long as you'd like.”
“We'll drop him off after dinner,” Justin called, as she got in her car.
“Bye Mama! Love you!” Gus screamed, waving frantically until she drove out of sight. Then he put his hands to his face and wailed, “Oh no!”
“What's wrong?” Justin asked.
“I forgot my soccer ball in Mama's car!” Gus cried miserably.
“You can play with Beast,” Brian said.
“I was gonna teach him soccer!” Gus moaned, falling to his knees. He lifted his arms and shouted, “Why can't I never remember? Why? Why?”
“Gus, get up,” Brian commanded. “Stop being dramatic.”
Gus made a hurt face, but got up. He spotted a stick in the grass and brightened. “I could teach Justin how to play fetches!”
“I've always wanted to learn,” Justin professed. “Come on, let's go in the field.”
“Come on, Daddy!” Gus yelled as he raced off. “Don't be a slow poke!”
* * *
Gus got hungry around eleven-thirty, so they found an empty picnic table. He'd packed four apples, four slightly squished peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, four juice boxes, and a bag of gummy bears. Gus was disappointed when Brian informed him that Beast was on a strict diet and couldn't eat any of the food, but Justin had a ziploc bag of puppy chow in his messenger bag, and Gus could hand-feed Beast after he finished his own lunch.
Justin sidled up to Brian and said, “I'll trade you my apple for your sandwich.”
“I already ate your apple,” Brian said, reaching for a second. “This one's mine.”
“I learned a song about you!” Gus announced, standing up on the bench seat.
“About me?” Brian asked.
“No, Daddy, don't be silly!” Gus said. “About Justin!”
“Okay,” Justin said, smiling. “Sing it.”
Gus put one hand over his heart and one in the air and sang, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy if skies are gray. You never know, dear, how much I love you. If you take my sunshine away!” The lyrics weren't entirely accurate, and the tune was definitely off, but it what he lacked in talent he made up for in sincerity. He sang it three times in a row, then bowed.
Brian and Justin clapped enthusiastically. Gus looked ready to launch into another verse when Beast abruptly ran away barking. Gus jumped down and took off after him, and Brian and Justin followed. Brian halted when he saw Beast and Gus standing by a man and a little girl. Justin glanced at Brian questioningly, and Brian walked forward slowly. “What happened to your eyes?” he heard Gus ask Sheila.
“I'm blind,” she said.
“That means your eyes can't work,” he told her.
“I know,” she said.
“Did you ever play fetches?” he asked.
“I played it with Flower,” she said, hugging Beast.
“Who's Flower?” Gus said.
“He is,” Sheila said, squeezing the puppy.
“That's not Flower, that's Beast,” Gus said. “You better call him that or else Daddy will get really mad.” Justin raised his eyebrows at Brian, who shook his head like he had no idea what Gus meant. “You wanna play fetches with us? I could find you a stick.”
“Sure,” she said eagerly. “Daddy, is it okay if I play with...what's your name?”
“I'm Gus and I'm four,” he said. “Did you have any friends that are four?”
“I don't have any friends,” Sheila said sadly.
“You could be my friend if you want,” Gus offered.
“Okay!” she said. Gus reached for her hand and guided her toward the field.
“Not too far!” Justin called after them.
Richard said, “You must be the boyfriend from LA.”
Justin said, “You must be the homicidal father.”
“I wasn't sure you actually existed,” Richard admitted.
“I was pretty sure you didn't,” Justin said. “Did they really break your fence?”
“Nah, just a couple of bullet holes,” Richard said, then told Brian, “You know, you really shouldn't make a habit of trespassing. If I'd had my glasses on, I don't know that we'd be having this conversation. No offense.”
“None taken. I'm a firm believer in ‘shoot first, ask questions later'," Brian said.
“Asking them to leave doesn't count as a question,” Justin said. Richard didn't appear to understand.
Brian studied Richard steadily, then said, “Gus' mom is always talking about these 'play dates' they go on. She and her friends take turns letting their children wreck each other's houses.”
“I don't think Sheila's ever wrecked a house before,” Richard said, smiling faintly.
“There's a first time for everything,” Brian said, then turned to Justin, “Right, Sunshine?”
* * *
They were back at the loft. Brian was reviewing notes for his Monday morning staff meeting, Gus was playing 'The Lion King' with Beast (Gus was Simba and Beast was Scar, and the game consisted of Gus yelling dialogue and then wrestling the puppy), and Justin was wandering around the loft talking on his cell phone. He hung up and asked, “Gus, are you hungry?”
Gus thought about it and said, “I'm hungry for pizza.”
“What about meatloaf and baked macaroni?” Justin said.
Gus said, “No, thanks. I'll just have pizza.”
“It's homemade,” Justin enticed. “Daphne made it.”
That caught Gus' attention. He stopped tussling with Beast and stood up, fixing his hair. “Daphne's coming?”
“She'll be here in a few minutes,” Justin confirmed. Gus got an anxious look on his face and then ran off to the bathroom. Brian bemusedly watched him race by. “My son, the breeder.”
“Maybe it's a phase,” Justin said comfortingly.
“It's the munchers' fault,” Brian said. “He's around pussy-worship all the time; he's brainwashed.”
Justin said, “Look on the bright side, at least they're not Republican.”
Brian said, “Go make sure he doesn't spill my cologne. And don't let him put too much on. Last time Daphne came over, he smelled like a gigolo.”
* * *
After patiently witnessing her boisterous reunion with Justin, Gus said, “Hi, Daphne.”
“Hey, Gus,” she grinned, kneeling down so he could hug her. He did, and kissed her cheek. “How are you?”
“I'm fine,” he said. “Did you know I graduated from preschool?”
“Yes, I did,” Daphne said. “Justin told me. I bought you a present.”
“Did you bring it with you?” Gus said.
“Yes, it's in my purse.” Daphne opened her bag and pulled out a gift card. “This card means you and another person can go to the movies. See, look what it says, 'to Gus, from your friend Daphne'.”
Gus inspected the card. “Do you want to come with me?”
“To the movies?” Daphne said. “Uh, sure. If your parents say it's okay.”
“They don't care,” Gus assured her.
Daphne glanced at Brian, then back at Gus. “Okay, thanks. We'll set up a time with your mom.”
Gus grinned at her. “Did you ever go on a date?”
“Uh...yeah,” Daphne said, smiling. “Have you?”
“No,” Gus said. “Did you ever have a boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Daphne laughed.
“Oh,” Gus said, frowning a little. “What's his name?”
“Well, my last boyfriend was named Eric,” Daphne said.
“Oh,” Gus said shortly. “How old is he?”
“He's twenty-three,” Daphne said.
Gus crossed his arms. “Does he have 'The Lion King 2'?”
“Um, nope, not that I know of,” Daphne said.
Gus said, “I have all three Lion King movies.”
“Wow, cool,” Daphne said.
“It's pretty cool,” Gus agreed. Brian called Gus over to pour Beast's food, and he told Daphne, “I have to go help Daddy feed Beast. You can watch if you want.”
“Okay,” Daphne said, following him into the kitchen. “Hey Brian.”
“Hey Daphne, how are you?” Brian said, holding the bag of puppy chow as Gus tilted it into Beast's dish.
“I'm great. Busy, you know how it is. Your dog is so cute!” she said.
“Does Aaron's Daddy have a dog?” Gus asked her.
“Who?” Daphne said.
“Your boyfriend,” Gus said.
“Eric,” Daphne corrected him. “I'm not sure, I never met his parents. And he's not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Oh,” Gus said happily. “Did you know Beast graduated from puppy school?”
“Yes, I heard,” Daphne said. “We should eat dinner while it's still hot. Are you hungry, Gus?”
“Yes, I want meatloaf and macaroni,” Gus said. “That's my favorite!”
* * *
“Do you want me to draw your picture?” Gus said as he and Daphne sat on the floor playing with Beast after dinner. “I can do it good.”
“You can do it well,” Brian corrected from where he and Justin lounged on the couch.
“Sure,” Daphne said, tugging on the rag-bone Beast was chewing. “You can draw a picture of me and Beast.”
“Okay,” Gus said. “Justin, I need some paper and colors.”
“Help yourself,” Justin said.
“Please?” Gus added, clasping his hands appealingly.
“You know where it is,” Justin said. Gus sighed but went to the drawer in the kitchen that usually held the crayons. “It's not here.”
“Oh, that's right. Sorry,” Justin said, getting up. He'd moved the art supplies he kept at the loft into the dresser drawer Brian had cleared out for him before he left for LA. When he bent down to open the drawer, Beast ran up to him. “Brian,” Justin said, “What's all this?”
“Give him the squeaky hamburger,” Brian said, as Beast yipped at Justin.
“I gave that to him!” Gus said. “It's his favorite!”
Justin tossed the toy to the puppy, then rooted through the dog supplies in his drawer until he found a sketchbook and crayons. He handed them to Gus and went back to the couch, but sat on the far end and glared at Brian. “What?” Brian asked, stretching an arm his way. “Come here.”
Justin just looked at him.
“What's your problem?” Brian said.
“I thought you were going to leave that drawer empty until I came back,” Justin said, and when Brian scoffed he snapped, “You could've at least asked me.”
“Why the fuck would I need to ask you?” Brian said incredulously.
“Because it's your dresser anyway?” Justin said.
“No, because you're on the other fucking side of the country. You're not using the fucking drawer, so why would you give a shit?” Brian said.
Justin shook his head, but said stubbornly, “You said you'd save it for me.”
Brian rolled his eyes, then stared at Justin until he stood up and started to walk away. Brian grabbed his arm as he passed and pulled him down onto his lap. “Don't be a twat,” he told him softly, nuzzling his neck. “There'll be space for you when you come back.”
Justin threaded his arms around Brian's neck and caught his eyes. “But what if there isn't?”
“Then we'll make space,” Brian said simply, and Justin smiled.
* * *
Around eight o'clock, Daphne said she needed to get going. As she was hugging Justin goodbye, Brian said, “I should drive Gus home. He needs to go to bed soon.”
“I could stay here,” Gus said.
“Not tonight, sonnyboy,” Brian said. “Justin's leaving tomorrow and we've got important things to do tonight.”
Gus looked disappointed until Daphne said, “I could drop Gus off; it's no problem.”
“It's not on your way,” Brian said.
“Daddy, hush,” Gus said. “Daphne will take me, you stay here.”
Brian raised an eyebrow at Gus, but said, “Say goodbye to Justin before you go.”
“I know,” Gus said, running to Justin to give him a big hug and kiss. “Bye, Justin. I'll miss you! Will you call me when you're in LA?”
“Sure,” Justin said. “Be a good boy while I'm gone, okay?”
“Uh-huh,” Gus nodded. “Then you could bring me a treat.” He hugged his dad before taking Daphne's hand and leading her to the door. “Come on, let's go.”
“Bye guys!” Daphne said, sliding the loft door closed behind them.
“Bye, love you!” Gus yelled.
After a quiet moment, Justin turned to Brian. “Read any good books lately?”
“Take off your clothes,” Brian demanded.
Justin played shock, then crossed his arms. “Make me.”
Brian grabbed at him, but Justin darted out of the way. He ran into the kitchen, Brian hot on his heels, and Beast chased after them yipping excitedly. They circled the loft twice before Brian caught him in the dining area and pushed him up against a pillar, pinning his wrists above his head. He spread Justin's thighs with his leg, and Justin grinned up at him, his tongue peeking out provocatively. Brian groaned and bit his neck as Justin thrust against his leg. He sucked relentlessly at a pulse-point on Justin's neck, only pulling back when he knew he'd left a mark, to admire his work. He released Justin's wrists and reached for his pants, taking a step back so that--
“Awrf!” Beast yipped in pain, and it took Brian a second to realize what he had done.
“You stepped on him!” Justin cried, pushing him away so he could comfort the whimpering puppy. He picked it up and kissed its head. “Shh, doggy, are you okay?”
“It was just his foot,” Brian said, trying to take the puppy, but Justin stepped back. “Let me see."
“You can see from there,” Justin told him, petting Beast soothingly.
“He's my dog,” Brian blurted, then rolled his eyes when Justin laughed at him. “Fine. You play Doctor Dolittle. I'm going to bed.”
“Without me?” Justin asked teasingly.
“You can sleep in the crate,” Brian said, undressing as he walked up the bedroom steps. He stretched out on the bed and snagged a cigarette from the pack on his nightstand, lit it, then rolled onto his back and blew a smoke ring.
Justin marched up to him, right onto the mattress, and straddled him, sitting on Brian's stomach. He placed Beast on Brian's chest, and Brian winced as the puppy scampered up his body to lick his face. Brian nudged it off of him and it tumbled onto the pillow, then pressed its little wet nose into Brian's ear. He flinched, ticklish, and Justin smiled at him and leaned down to nuzzle Brian's other ear. He nibbled the lobe and sucked it into his mouth, then blew on it gently before pulling back to look Brian in the eye.
Brian pushed his shoulder, a cue to let him roll them over, but Justin resisted. He smiled playfully as he reached for a condom and lube, and Brian raised an eyebrow. “Let him watch you, and then I'll let him watch me,” Justin bargained in a low, seductive tone.
Brian smirked, and Justin popped open the lube.
* * *
The next day, they had no time for a good breakfast because they spent the whole morning having sex. “I'm starving,” Justin grumbled as he spread peanut butter on toast. “Do you want me to make you some?”
“Nah,” Brian said, finishing off his guava juice. When Justin bit into his slice of toast, Brian came up and took a bite from the far side. Justin pushed him away. “I knew you were going to do that.”
“Sure you did,” Brian said.
“I'm going to say goodbye to our little doggy, then we can go.” Justin said, putting the toast down on a napkin.
“You're not getting in my car with that toast,” Brian told him.
“I know,” Justin said, walking quietly up to the dogbed in the corner of the bedroom. He knelt down and petted the sleeping pup softly, then kissed its head. “Later, Beast. Take care of Brian for me.”
Brian snorted and picked up Justin's bags. “Where are my keys?”
“I've got them,” Justin said, and tried to take the largest suitcase away from Brian. They struggled a bit, until Brian smiled wryly and let go. It hit the floor and almost tipped over, but Justin steadied it and reached for the strap, pulling it along on its wheels.
“You gonna wheel it down the stairs?” Brian asked.
“That's what elevators are for,” Justin said coolly.
“Don't be a twat,” Brian said, taking it back from him and handing him the smaller bag. Their eyes met for a beat, and they smirked at each other.
Justin broke the gaze to check his wristwatch. “I hope traffic's not bad. Do you want to just drop me off at the entrance?”
“I'll come inside,” Brian said. “You need me to carry your bag.”
* * *
It was a scene that felt unfortunately familiar: standing in the airport, hugging goodbye. “I was thinking about coming down for Daphne's birthday,” Justin said. “It's the weekend before Gus' first day of kindergarten. I told him I'd try to be there.”
Brian nodded. That was three months away.
“So, what are you going to do about Beast?” Justin wondered. “You going to keep him?”
Brian squinted thoughtfully, then shrugged.
“You need to decide, because if you're not going to keep him, you need to find him a new owner,” Justin said. “I bet Sheila would take him back.”
“Naming a male dog 'Flower' is animal cruelty,” Brian said.
Justin laughed and squeezed Brian tighter. “Well, are you going to look for a new owner for him? Should I e-mail you the information about the screening process?”
Brian wrinkled his brow and shook his head. “I don't have time for that.”
“Then do you want me to do it for you?” Justin asked.
Brian said, “How are you supposed to screen people without meeting them?”
Confusion flickered across Justin's face, then realization and a smile. “Well, I could always come back and do it.”
“Maybe next month,” Brian casually suggested.
Justin nodded. “I'll come back next month and see how he's doing. If it's not working out, I'll set up some interviews.”
“As long as I don't have to deal with it,” Brian said disinterestedly.
Justin laughed and kissed him. “You take care of him, and I'll take care of myself. And I'll see you next month.”
Brian said, “Sounds good to me.”
Fin
Feedback mcpofife
and I'll give you a Snausage.
Extras:
[The Lost Scene]
- A porny interlude that was cut from the final fic for various reasons.
[Gus' drawing] - I
had my little niece unknowingly illustrate my fanfic. I'm going to hell, aren't
I? *weeps*
[Brian's poster] -I
actually made the poster Brian put up when Beast was missing. BECAUSE I OBVIOUSLY
HAVE TOO MUCH SPARE TIME 8-X
[icons] - Fic-inspired
icons made by very sweet and talented people. So cute <3<3<3
[The
Brief]. The ever clever Cabbers
condensed My Animal into one of her infamous briefs. It makes me even more ashamed
to have written so much plotless shmoop. If only I shared her succinctness [-o<
A/N: I realize how entirely, utterly implausible the plot is (as someone said, "CowLip would never be sadistic enough to give Brian a puppy"), and I think that's part of the fun. This isn't something I'd want to see actually happen on the show, but it's fun to imagine Brian so out of his element. This fic ended up much, much longer than I ever intended it to be. But it was tremendous fun to write, and the feedback was hilarious. Thank you to everyone for all the encouragement and for playing along. I know I’m Big Dork for saying so, but I’m going to miss Beast.
Randomly, it amused me to hear from an UK reader that the gun-toting Richard seemed extreme to her. I am obviously warped from growing up in the South, because everyone's dad has a gun here; especially a hunting rifle. I asked one of my RL friends, just to make sure I wasn't a complete freak:
Me: If you got caught trespassing in the middle of the night, trying to steal a dog from someone's backyard--
Friend: What?
Me: Just listen. If a stranger caught you trespassing in the middle of the night, what do you think he'd do?
Friend: Shoot you.
Me: Yes, okay. Just checking.
Down here, it's taken for granted that if you're unwelcome on someone's property, you might get shot. Of course, this story is set in Pittsburgh, and I'm not sure if guns are as common up North? Either way, in my head Richard is Southern, so the point is moot.
Also: Yes, of course everything is a metaphor/symbolic. From the dog to the secondary OCs to the luggage-carrying. I take the Brian-approach to metaphors/symbolism: There's no such thing as enough 8-X 8-X 8-X
<3mc pof ife
Disclaimer I own nothing, least of all QAF. No copyright infringement intended. No sue, 'kay? Thanks.