Title: VICE VERSA
Rating: NC 17
Summary: An angst-free little AU, comprised of equal parts canon and non-canon.
How many twists can you spot, accounting for the title?
A/N: Many thanks to techgirl_on_ij for rising above and beyond the call of a normal beta, without whose help this fic literally would not have been possible, and whose porny brain rescued it from dullness in several instances.
VICE VERSA - CHAPTER SEVEN
"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?"
"Oh, did I forget to tell you this morning? I'm not coming home." Brian grins into his cell phone. "Tonight's the night I'm running away with Ricky Martin."
"Shit! You did forget to tell me that. Oh, well, I guess this means I'll just have to sit here in our finished bathroom soaking in our finished Jacuzzi and drink my glass of Beam all by myself." Justin takes a sip of his Beam. All by himself.
"They finished? No fucking way!"
"Yes fucking way. About two hours ago. I wiped the fine layer of dust off of everything, hung the new bath sheets on the warming rack, and now I'm-"
"I'm leaving right now. See you in twenty minutes." Brian grabs a few client files he could work on from home and then tosses them right back down onto his desk. Who's he kidding? Like he could even think of work that evening. Reaching down to unlock his bottom desk drawer, he removes the two small black velvet boxes that have been waiting in it for the past week. "And Justin?" he says, slipping them into his briefcase.
"I love you."
"What about Ricky Martin?"
. . . . .
"I'm leaving early today. Can you reschedule my four o'clock appointment?" Brian stops by Cynthia's desk in the outer office. Loosening his tie with one hand, his infectious smile has no hope of a cure.
"Oh, my God! It's finished?"
"Jesus, Cynthia. Am I that transparent?" Brian glances at the crystal clock on her desk he and Justin had given her for Christmas. Damn! He's already lost five minutes. He wonders if she can hear his heart pounding.
"Go!" She waves him off, but not before jumping up and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Congratulations, boss! In advance, I guess! This is so exciting! Oh! Did you remember the rings?"
Halfway out the door, Brian pats his briefcase. "Got 'em!" The gleam in his eye is blinding.
. . . . .
"Bri's home! Bri's home!" Missy shouts when she hears his car pull into the garage.
"Yeah, Brian's home, honey, but he probably won't be playing checkers with you before dinner like he did last night." Daphne looks up from the stove and smiles at her daughter. "I'm making chicken and macaroni and cheese for you and me. I don't think Daddy and Brian are going to eat with us tonight."
"Well, they just want to try out their new Jacuzzi. It's like a brand new toy for them."
"Yep. I guess you could call it a toy for grown-ups."
"Bri!" Missy hops up and down in front of him as soon as he walks in. She can handle no checkers, but skipping her hug and kiss is out of the question. "Daddy's in the 'cuzzi!"
"He is?" Brian scoops her up and brings her to his face for a kiss. "How's the princess today?" He sets Missy back down on her feet and looks at Daphne in the kitchen. "I don't think Justin and I are gonna-"
"Got it covered. I'm making Missy's favorite dinner for us, and then we've got a date with her Disney DVD collection in my new bonus room." Daphne points to her left ring finger and raises her eyebrows at Brian. "Did you remember?"
He holds his briefcase up. "Right here. Kind of in a hurry, okay?" Brian winks at Missy before he disappears toward his Jacuzzi.
"Play with his toy?"
Daphne looks at Missy and giggles. "Definitely!"
. . . . .
"Holy fuck, Justin! It's beautiful! You're beautiful!" Brian watches Justin pour the last few drops of his drink down his throat and then clunk the tumbler onto the tiled floor surrounding their oversized sunken tub. "You started without me?!"
"Just a little." Justin's hand plops back into the water with a splash. "Get naked, Brian! It's so bubbly in here! You're gonna love it!"
"Bare-assed, tipsy Justin. We may never leave this room again." Brian drops his briefcase in the corner and kicks off his shoes, pushing his suit pants and underwear down to his ankles and quickly stepping out of them. Yanking off his socks, tie, and dress shirt, he throws them on top of his pants. "Ouch! Shit!" He lowers himself into the water. "What temperature do you have it on?"
"Hot." Justin strokes his dick, deliberately teasing Brian. "I've been thinking about you all day. How you're gonna touch me in here. Kiss me in here. Suck me and fuck me in here . . ."
Brian scoots next to him, his hand diving down between Justin's legs and cupping his balls. Rolling them through his fingers, he licks at Justin's lips before his tongue breaks through and swabs the inside of his mouth. "You've been thinking about me?
"Must be why you're so hard." Brian caresses the tip of Justin's stiff cock with the palm of his hand, the aerated water roaring all around them. "Stand in front of me. I've gotta suck you right now." Pulling him up off the bench seat, Brian maneuvers Justin until his dick is pointing directly at his lips. He grasps his ass cheeks with both hands and pushes him forward from behind, swallowing him whole in one swift move. Deep-throating him until Justin nearly passes out, Brian tastes beads of pre-come trickling out of his slit.
"Fuck, Brian. I'm gonna come in your mouth." Eyes dreamily closed, Justin lets Brian's hands on his ass rock him back and forth. Feeling the rumble in his balls, he shivers with pleasure when his come shoots out of his cock and slides down Brian's throat. Falling onto Brian's lap in a boneless heap a minute later, he wraps his arms around his neck and kisses his lips. "Well, that was fucking amazing."
"You're fucking amazing." Brian reaches out onto the tile for the glass of Beam Justin had poured him before he got home, savoring a long swallow. "I need to catch up with you."
"Can you believe our bathroom's finally done? What do you think?"
"I think I want to suck you off in this Jacuzzi every night for the rest of my life. Justin?"
"Do you want me to suck you off in here every night for the rest of your life?" Brian sets his drink down and takes Justin's face in his hands. Gazing into his eyes, he finds their forever right where it's always been.
"Feels like you really missed me today or something."
"I want to make it official."
"You want to officially miss me? I don't think you have to register for that." Justin wonders how he ever ended up so lucky, his love for Brian pounding in his heart.
"I want to make us official. Loving, breathing, laughing, fucking, being . . . together. For the rest of our lives." Brian lowers his hands from Justin's face, skimming them down the sides of his neck and over his shoulders. Then he slides them back up, his luminous brown eyes with their green and gold flecks still peering into Justin's soul. "Forever."
Justin remembers the very first time Brian walked into his line of sight. His eyes held him spellbound and asked him in that night, too. "Forever?"
"How about marrying me?"
"I think Roberto built an echo into this bathroom. Justin, I've loved you for three years. I want to stay with you and love you for a hundred more. Will you marry me?"
Justin kisses Brian's mouth. "You sound serious. Like you want to make it official."
"Wow. Nothing gets past your pretty little head, does it?"
Justin grins. "I'd love to marry you, Brian. But . . ."
"But?" Brian's brow crinkles up. "But what?"
"It's just that I kind of have some issues with marriage. I gotta pee." Justin drags himself out of the water and dries his legs with one of their new bath sheets before he pads across the bathroom.
Brian picks up his glass and sinks lower into the bubbles. Issues? What issues? Nursing his whiskey, he battles an intense case of anxiety.
"I've always thought of marriage as some kind of doomsday machine," Justin says, his river of urine gushing into the toilet. "When my parents divorced, I realized even the most ideal unions seem to be destined to self-destruct." He flushes the stool and walks over to the dual-sink vanity, washing his hands on his side and then coming back to sit on the edge of the tub. "What we have is magic, Brian. I don't want to ever fuck it up. I love you so much, sometimes I think my heart is gonna burst open because all of it won't fit in there. I guess I'm just afraid of . . ."
"Of what?" Brian mines his eyes, wanting to get it. "Tell me." He reaches for Justin's hand and holds it in his.
"Of . . . like locks on our doors, you know? We're choosing to be together because we want to. Knowing that you'll be coming home to me every night is what gets me through every day. I like that it's a choice. Being locked in a marriage would change that."
Brian nods, considering Justin's perspective. "I like that it's a choice, too," he finally agrees. "What if we designate our door a lock-free zone and still consciously choose to be together every day? I don't want that to ever change either. I just like the idea of standing up in front of our friends and family and declaring our love openly and celebrating it with them."
"Like you did at the Ad Person of the Year banquet?"
"Exactly! But this time we'll be wearing matching Versace suits! Emmett has it all taken care of. What are you doing on June twenty-fifth?"
"God, I love the way your not locked-in mind works! I'm so fucking lucky you choose me every day." Brian pulls himself out of the tub and sits on the edge beside Justin, his hand creeping around to the back of his neck when he kisses him. Then he dries off and walks over to his briefcase in the corner. "I want to show you something." Slowly opening it, he takes the velvet boxes and holds them out toward Justin.
"Rings?! Brian, you bought rings?"
"We can't have a wedding without rings, can we?" Nearing Justin again, he pries the lids open and reveals two sterling silver wedding bands. "We can exchange them for anything you like. I just wanted to have them when I asked you." Brian presses his lips together, waiting for Justin's reaction.
"They're . . . they're . . . now you're gonna make me cry. They're gorgeous, Brian!" Justin stands up and wipes a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. "I don't want anything else. Just you. I choose you."
Brian takes Justin into his arms. "And I do know you have choices. That hot guy at Babylon last weekend couldn't take his eyes off of you. He wanted a turn after me to dance with you and rub his cock into yours."
Justin laughs a little, one shoulder raising as he blushes. "I guess so."
"But he'll never know what it feels like 'cause you're mine."
. . . . .
"Congratulations, Justin! Aren't you thrilled?" Daphne lowers the volume on the movie she's watching when Justin walks into her bonus room several hours later.
"Thanks! It's crazy, isn't it?" He sits on her sofa with her, their sleeping daughter stretched out between them. "How long have you known?"
"Since the fiasco with Matt. Brian asked me if I'd be okay with you two using the date right after you guys kicked him out of here." Daphne smooths Missy's hair off of her face, careful not to wake her. "She conked out halfway through Cinderella."
Justin smiles down at his little girl and hands Daphne the Pepsi he brought her from the kitchen. "Are you sure it doesn't bother you, though? That was going to be your big day. We've been planning your wedding for so long."
"It's okay. Really. Just because Matt turned out to be a steaming pile of crap doesn't mean all of Emmett's hard work has to go to waste. You and Brian might as well take advantage of everything he's done. I think it's great."
"I wish it wouldn't have ended for you the way it did, Daph. But I guess it is pretty convenient for Brian and me to use the same date." Justin pats Missy's back when she starts to toss and turn.
"And all the people I sent invitations to are practically the same ones you'll want there. So that works out, too!" Daphne laughs along with Justin, disturbing their restless three-year-old even more.
"It's okay, honey. Go back to sleep. Mommy and I are just talking."
"Daddy." Missy rubs her eyes and sits up, crawling onto his lap a minute later and laying her head on his chest. "I watch Cinderella."
"I know. Mommy told me." Justin kisses the top of her head. "Hey, you didn't return her flower girl dress, did you, Daph?"
Daphne groans and rolls her eyes. "How dumb do I look? I am more than halfway through a premed degree, Justin! You can't get married without our little flower girl walking down the aisle!"
"Daddy get married?" Missy's head pops up, her eyes wide as saucers.
Justin grins. "Well, yes." He threads his fingers through her wavy light brown hair. "Daddy's getting married. To Brian. You know that Brian and I love each other, right?"
"Uh-huh. Bri loves Daddy. I the princess," she says, lest anyone forget.
Justin laughs again and hugs Missy. Then he smiles at Daphne, finally getting to the main reason he came looking for her. "Will you stand up for me, Daph? We won't call you the best man! I promise!"
"You know I will! Let's call me the best friend!" Daphne leans over and kisses him on the cheek. "Hmm. I wonder what I should wear . . ."
"Oh, my God, Daphne. Don't tell me you haven't already totally planned out what you're going to wear. I know you. I'm sure that's the first thing you thought of when Brian asked you about the date."
"Well . . . I may have scrounged something up after I heard about his idea! Want to see it?" She jumps up and goes to the walk-in closet off of her bedroom. "Emmett helped me find it!"
"Have you seen it?" Justin asks Missy, snug in his lap. He begins to understand just how much preparation has been going into his wedding by the people who mean the most to him when she shakes her head up and down.
Daphne comes back out and holds a mauve floor-length satin sheath up in front of herself. "You like?"
"Yeah, it's really beautiful, Daph. Um, isn't that the same color as the trim on Missy's dress?"
"What do you think a wedding planner does, Justin? Yes, it's the same color as Missy's trim!" Daphne looks at Missy and makes a funny face. "Daddy's silly, isn't he?"
"Hey, no fair!" Justin laughs. "No ganging up on Daddy!"
"Ganging up on Daddy?" A sleepy-eyed Brian wanders into Daphne's bonus room, bedhead and all. "Where do I sign up?"
Justin smirks at him. "I thought you were out for the night. You were snoring when I went to get a drink."
"I don't snore. What's the princess doing up so late?" Brian takes Missy from Justin when she raises her arms up toward him. He taps her nose with his index finger. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I not tired." She hugs Brian around the neck. "I the flower girl."
"Missy, you know what?" Daphne drapes her dress over the back of the rocking chair. "When Daddy and Brian get married, Brian will be your daddy, too. What do you think about that?"
Justin glances up at Brian, reading the apprehension on his face. He'll be crushed if Missy somehow isn't on board with the whole thing. Justin knows Brian's holding his breath while he waits for the approval of the little girl in his arms.
"Two daddies," Missy mumbles at last, yawning and lowering her head onto Brian's shoulder.
Brian exhales. "Two daddies," he whispers, holding her close as she drifts back to sleep.
Justin stands up and hugs Daphne. "Thank you, Daph. We love you, don't we, Brian?"
"Of course we love you. Who else would selflessly give us her day? And her wedding planner? And share her irresistible daughter with me?" Brian hugs Daphne with one arm, holding the sleeping princess with the other.
"Missy loves you, Brian. You've helped us raise her since she was a baby. Justin and I have always said she thinks she has three parents. Now she really will."
"Okay, Dad." Justin grins at Brian. "Let's put her to bed now. We've got work tomorrow and Daphne has her morning class. It's really late."
"Yes, dear." Brian gives Justin a peck on the lips. "How often do I get engaged? I can be tired tomorrow."
Daphne laughs. "Good night, you guys. And congratulations again."
"See you in the morning." Justin follows Brian out of her suite and down the hall into Missy's bedroom.
"She's getting awfully heavy." Brian waits for Justin to turn down the canopy bed he bought Missy when she'd outgrown her toddler bed. "What are you feeding her during the day?"
"You're the one who takes her out of day care and gives her cookies in your office."
Brian lays Missy down and covers her with her new Little Mermaid spread. "Busted." He reaches for Justin's hand as they head back to their wing of the house.
. . . . .
"Hey, Mikey! How's it going? I brought you some lemon bars from the diner." Brian sweeps into Red Cape Comics and kisses Michael on the lips. "Your mom says if you don't call her soon, she's gonna find you and slap you upside the head."
"Thanks, Brian." Michael smiles at him and takes the pastry box. "Everything all right?"
"Couldn't be better. I've got big news! I think you should sit down."
"Oh, fuck! What happened? Justin sold a painting for a million bucks?" Michael grabs a lemon bar and pops it into his mouth. Licking his fingers, he sets the box on his counter. "You guys gonna retire to the south of France?"
"I'm serious, Mikey. Let's sit." Brian folds his suit jacket over the arm of Michael's couch in the corner and plops down. "Actually, I thought you would have heard by now. Emmett hasn't spilled his guts out to you and Ted yet?"
Michael brings two bottles of water from the little fridge on the back wall and hands one to Brian as he sinks in beside him. "Em's hardly been around the last two weeks. He said he's planning a wedding every second he's not working at Torso."
"Yeah, about that wedding. How would you like to be my best man?" A blinding smile covers Brian's face, his words sounding as unbelievable to himself as they do to Michael. "I asked Justin to marry me last night."
Michael skews an eyebrow at Brian, wondering just when in the fuck he lost his mind. "Okay, it's not April Fool's Day, is it? Last time I looked at the calendar, it was June. There's no fucking way you're getting married. What is it you really came in here to tell me?"
Brian laughs and pats Michael's arm. "It's true, Mikey. We're going to use the date we had reserved for Daphne's wedding. I swore Emmett to secrecy because I wanted to ask Justin in our new Jacuzzi, but the damn thing wasn't done until yesterday." He takes a big gulp of his water and then laughs again. "After some creative defining of the term marriage, he finally accepted!"
"Jesus, Brian." Michael's jaw still rests in his lap, disbelief etched into his features. "I knew you guys were doing great out there in your Southern Hills mansion, but marriage? That's a huge step!"
"I love him, Michael." Brian's lips press inward against each other, his chronic habit never seeming more apt. "So . . . you haven't answered me yet. Are you gonna stand up for me in ten days when I tie the knot? You're my best friend. I wouldn't want anyone else to do it."
"Sure, I'll be your best man. Ten days? Shit! That's really close!"
"Emmett has everything under control. You're gonna look so handsome in your Armani suit with the mauve pocket square."
"Mauve pocket square?!"
"To complement Daphne's dress. She's standing up for Justin." Brian glances at his watch, hoping to fit one more stop into his lunch hour before he makes it back to the office. "Listen, I gotta run, Mikey. Emmett can fill you in on all the details. I'll see you Friday night at Woody's."
Michael stands up when Brian does and kisses him good-bye. "Right. See you Friday at Woody's." He studies his oldest and dearest friend, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when Brian Kinney took a husband. I love you."
"Me, too, Mikey. Always have. Always will."
. . . . .
"Brian! What are you doing here?" Emmett looks up when he hears the tinkling bell on Torso's door. "I thought you said we couldn't be seen together until . . . OH, MY GOD! HE SAID YES?! When did you ask him? Was it so romantic? Dish!" Abandoning his shirt-folding task for the display table, Emmett skips over to hug his beaming friend.
"Yeah, he said yes. I asked him last night, and he only made me chew off one fingernail while I waited for his answer." Brian takes a quick look around the store and then focuses on Emmett again. "Is everything all set? How much more do you have to do?"
"Everything's right on schedule. Nothing left to do. You want to see Michael's suit? Oh! What about Michael? Does he know yet?"
"I just left Red Cape. He said he'd stand up for me. You've got his suit?"
"Yeah, it arrived this morning." Emmett hurries into the employees only area and comes back out with a large garment bag in his hands. "I think it's beautiful." Unzipping the protective cover, he unveils a slate gray suit in Michael's size, praying it'll pass Brian's inspection.
Brian runs his fingers over the silk fabric. "Niiiice," he drawls, the feel of expensive designer clothing arousing him as always. "Now I wish I would have gone with Armani for Justin and me. Fuck!"
"Are you kidding? The Versace is perfect for you and Justin. But if you want me to start looking for-"
"No, we'll keep the Versace. Emmett?"
"Uh-huh?" Emmett hangs Michael's suit behind the cash register, planning to steam a few tiny wrinkles out of the trousers when Brian leaves.
"I was sure you'd crack under the pressure and blab everything to Michael and Ted. Remember what I said about striking out on your own and becoming a professional wedding planner?"
"Um, yes, I remember. But you were just so excited about substituting you and Justin for Matt and Daphne right then. I didn't think you were actually serious about setting me up in business."
"I meant it. I'm impressed with your eye for detail and your ability to get things done. I keep telling you you're really good at this shit."
Emmett dares to imagine his longtime dream becoming a reality. "Brian, I'd give my notice here at Torso tomorrow if I thought-"
"Good. Then it's settled." Brian smiles at him. "Now that I've bought out Ryder and own the advertising firm, I'm going to have all the offices on the north side of the building cleared for you to use as your base of operations. That saves me overhead. And we'll do all the promotion to get you off the ground. You just need a few clients, and you'll be working your wedding magic full-time."
"I . . . I don't know what to say, Brian! This is so-" Cut off when Brian's phone rings in his pocket, Emmett mulls over the finer points of writing a resignation letter while Brian makes dinner plans with Justin. He pinches the back of his hand just to make sure he's awake.
"Where were we?" Brian snaps his phone shut. "Oh, yeah. Why don't you come by the office tomorrow and we'll discuss the terms of my silent partnership. Can you draw up a broad list of materials and supplies you'll need to get started so I can project my initial cost outlay? Emmett?" Brian stops talking and raises an eyebrow. "Those aren't tears, are they?"
"No, of course, not!" Emmett sniffles and swipes at the moisture in the corner of his eye. "Brian, this means so much to me. I can never thank you enough."
Brian checks the time. Those boards aren't going to approve themselves. "After everything you've done for Justin and me to ensure the most important day of our lives is flawless? Thank you, Emmett."
. . . . .
Brian pulls into Woody's parking lot and finds a space for the '73 Corvette he purchased shortly after he'd bought Ryder out. Scanning around for Justin's Explorer, he sheds his jacket and tie and rolls up his sleeves, grinning when Justin parks right next to him five minutes later. Brian's out of his 'Vette and into the SUV before Justin has a chance to cut the engine.
"Miss me or something?"
"Kiss me!" Brian leans all over his fiancé, his fingers playing with Justin's long yellow hair while his tongue pushes between his lips. He unzips Justin's fly and reaches in. "No underwear! Thank you!"
Justin's hand burrows beneath Brian's clothes and strokes his long shaft. "Jesus, Brian. You're so hard. You didn't jack off today, did you?" He unbuckles Brian's belt and slides his suit pants toward his knees.
"No time. I've gotta fuck you!" Brian finds a bottle of lube in the glove compartment as Justin climbs over the center console. Pulling his jeans down, he slathers the crack of his ass and works his middle finger inside of him.
Justin closes his eyes while Brian finger fucks him, his dick soon rising and lying against his belly. He shivers when Brian bends forward to lick the swelled head of his cock and dip his tongue in and out of his slit. "God, that feels . . . " Justin's breaths get short and jagged as Brian starts to suck him off. "Fuuuuck!"
Brian swallows the hot spurts of Justin's come, gradually slipping his finger out of his ass and sitting back up. "Turn around." He kisses his lips and helps him face the windshield.
Still reeling from his orgasm in Brian's mouth, Justin plunges onto his dick over and over again, fucking himself on Brian's rock-hard cock.
Brian grasps Justin's hips from behind, guiding him up and down faster. "You're always so goddamned tight, Justin. I'm gonna come in your tight little ass." Feeling the pull in his balls, Brian shoves into Justin's hole and freezes, shooting a string of creamy liquid inside his body. He wraps his arms around him and holds him close while his racing pulse slows down.
Justin rests backward against Brian's chest, his head rolling onto Brian's shoulder at the tingly sensation of soft little kisses on the side of his neck. "I . . . I only have one question." He reaches for Brian's hand without looking and squeezes it in his. "After we're married, will you still . . . blow me?"
Brian laughs. "That depends," he teases, still nipping at Justin's neck. "Will you still . . . fuck me in the car every chance we get?"
"That's a choice I don't ever see changing." Justin grins and inches off of Brian's cock. He grabs a bunch of paper towels out of the glove compartment and wads them together, cleaning up and then tucking himself back into his jeans. "Are you sure you really want me here tonight?" He climbs over into the driver's seat again. "This is the last Friday you'll get to hang with Michael as a single man."
"I wouldn't have called and asked you to meet me here if I wanted to hang out with Michael alone." Using some of the paper towels, Brian wipes off before he pulls his pants up and refastens his belt. "Besides, he got ahold of Emmett and Ted and arranged a sort of impromptu bachelor party for us. I can't go in there without you."
Justin thinks about Brian cutting his after-work trips to Woody's with Michael down to once a week after they'd fallen in love. He doesn't want him to halt the Friday night ritual just because they're getting married. "Well, I guess I can't miss our bachelor party, can I?"
"Nope. But you can be late." Brian leans toward Justin and kisses him softly at first. Prying himself away twenty minutes later, he gets out of Justin's car and drapes his arm over his shoulders as they walk into Woody's.
. . . . .
Justin studies the work of art propped on Missy's child-sized easel. Trying to decipher exactly what it is, he points to a particularly pleasing blob in the bottom corner. "This is a pretty color."
"I like purple." Missy fidgets with her clothes and tugs at her smock, code for being tired and wanting to quit for the day. "I done now, Daddy."
"Okay, but remember you have to rinse out your brush first?" Justin walks her over to the sink in his studio and turns on the water, helping her drain the last traces of violet from the bristles. "So tomorrow's the big day, you know. Are you ready to be the best little flower girl in the whole wide world?"
Missy looks up at her daddy with the saddest eyes he's ever seen. "I not have any flowers."
Justin shuts off the water and lays her brush out to dry. "Emmett has your bouquet all ready for you. What's the matter, honey? Did you forget what you're going to do again?"
Shaking her head yes, Missy's eyes cloud up with tears.
"Come and sit with me." Justin unsnaps Missy's smock in the back and takes it off of her. Then he carries her to his easy chair in the corner and settles her into his lap for the same talk he, Daphne, and Brian have given her numerous times before. "You're going to walk down the aisle in front of Brian and me and sprinkle the flower petals from your basket onto the floor. When you get to the front of the hall, you'll sit with Grandma Jen, Aunt Molly, Grandma Dorothy, and Grandpa Roy and be real quiet while the minister performs the ceremony. It'll be over before you know it, and then the big party will start. You can do that, right?"
Missy's still frowning when Brian comes in and sits in the other chair.
"Hey. How's it going in here? The princess doesn't look very happy."
Justin kisses Missy's cheek. "We just had the talk. Again."
Brian smiles at her. "We'll remind you what to do right before the wedding starts, okay, sweetie?" He looks at Justin, holding his eyes with his own. "Are you nervous? About tomorrow?"
"No. Are you?"
"That's good." Justin reaches out for Brian's hand. "'Cause Missy's jittery enough for both of us."
. . . . .
Brian's roused out of a deep sleep by Justin's tongue tickling his rim and dipping in and out of his hole. Gradually stirring, he parts his legs and murmurs into his pillow. "I was dreaming it was our wedding day and you were licking my ass before you fucked me awake."
Justin coats his early morning hard-on with lube and works its swelled up head through Brian's first ring of muscle. "Happy to make your dreams come true. Especially on our wedding day." He glides the rest of the way in with one push, pumping slowly at first and then quickening his pace when Brian raises his hips off the bed and starts to rear backward on every thrust. Soon jamming the head of his cock into Brian's prostate over and over, he feels the tug in his balls. Slamming Brian's ass for the last time, Justin memorizes the vivid hues darting around behind his eyelids while his dick explodes. "Fuck, Brian! I fucking love fucking you every fucking morning!"
"Good thing that's your job."
Collapsing onto Brian, Justin leaves soft little kisses up and down his back. He sighs and lays his chin on Brian's shoulder. "Remember the zillions of condoms we went through the first year?"
"I heard Trojan went out of business when we started fucking raw. What made you think of condoms?"
"I don't know." Justin rolls off of Brian and lies beside him, peering into his eyes. "I guess because every time I slip my bare cock inside you, I fall a little more in love with you. I just wanted to tell you that."
Struggling to corral his emotions into a manageable lot, Brian takes Justin in his arms. "The first time I fucked you without a condom, I cried."
"You never looked more beautiful to me." Justin's hand snakes in between them and grasps Brian's rigid cock. He jerks him a few times and then crawls down to take him into his mouth. Deep-throating Brian's oozing dick, Justin sucks him to the verge of eruption several times before he finally drinks every drop of come out of his body.
Brian shudders through his pleasure, hardly believing they'll be married before the end of the day. "I love you, Justin. I choose to love you every day for the rest of my life."
Hoping he never wakes from this dream, Justin inches back up to Brian's face. "We need to shower and shave. We have a wedding to get to!"
. . . . .
"Missy, hold still. Let me buckle your shoe." Daphne crouches down by her daughter's foot, trying not to wrinkle her long satin dress. "There's Emmett with your bouquet. Don't forget to say thank you when he gives it to you."
"Oh, my God, Daphne! Mauve is your color!" Emmett waits for her to stand back up and gives her a hug. Then he smiles at Missy. "Look at you! You're the prettiest flower girl I've ever seen!" Handing her the all-important prop, he shows her how to get the loose petals from the bottom of the basket and drop them as she walks down the aisle.
Missy takes one look at the bouquet and beams from ear to ear. "Thank you!"
Emmett glances at the large clock on the wall. "Ten minutes till showtime!" he announces, flitting off to perform the next item on his checklist. This wedding needs to come off without a hitch.
Daphne tucks an errant curl into Missy's ponytail and kisses the top of her head. "I should get up to the front of the hall now. Please be good for Daddy and Brian."
"I be good."
"Justin, you look so cool in that suit and tie!" Daphne hugs him around the neck on her way out of the dressing room. "You know what it reminds me of?"
"St. fucking James!" they say together, laughing through one more hug.
"Oh, shit! The rings!" Brian grabs the velvet boxes out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "Emmett! Can you get these up to Michael? I forgot to give them to him!"
Appearing at Brian's side, Emmett does his level best to stay calm. "Daphne's going. She can take them. Let me catch her . . . Daphne?!"
Brian quits primping in the full-length mirror and sidles up to Justin. "Is it too late for me to have a quick smoke?" he asks, the look on Justin's face squelching that idea.
"The minister's taking his place. Let's have a wedding!" Emmett takes ahold of Missy's hand and leads her toward the door. "Brian? Justin? Let's go!"
The Versace-clad grooms share their last kiss as unmarried men before Brian crooks his arm and Justin slips his hand through the opening. Following Emmett and Missy to the back of the golden gardenia-scented hall, neither is more sure of any decision he's ever made.
"Daddy?" Missy's little voice pierces the quiet just as Emmett's about to cue the string quartet and send her down the aisle.
"What?" Justin and Brian answer at the same time.
"I the flower girl!" She lifts her bouquet up high, just in case either of them has missed it.
"Aww . . ." A low rumble of subdued laughter reverberates from among the seated guests as they twist around to see, "She's so adorable!" and "They're so handsome!" and "Everything's so gorgeous!" wafting through the air.
Other than thirteen-year-old Molly getting up to collect her niece when she can't quite remember what happens after the long walk in front of her daddies, the marriage of Mr. Brian Kinney and Mr. Justin Taylor begins beautifully. As previously decided, the short ceremony consists of reciting the vows, exchanging the rings, and the minister's joyous pronouncement that Brian and Justin are now man and . . . man.
The sloppy kiss that follows elicits cheers and applause from their family and friends, punctuated by Debbie's distinct approval, which begins as a polite cackle and evolves into a hearty wolf call. Brian's fingertips comb Justin's silky hair out of his eyes when they finally separate, Justin unable to keep from blushing.
Within fifteen minutes of their stroll down the aisle, the newlyweds walk hand in hand through a rainfall of confetti, leading the migration to the reception room next door. More or less mobbed by hugging well-wishers, each wraps an arm behind the other's waist, standing glued together as they receive an outpouring of love.
Emmett oversees the wait staff's serving of champagne and hors d'oeuvres, signaling the live deejay to start spinning records a few minutes later. Unplanned is the first dance for the grooms and their mothers, but he orchestrates it on the spot, nudging first Jennifer and then Debbie to get out there with their sons.
When Justin makes it back into Brian's arms, he knows as well as he knows his own name the first thing Brian will whisper in his ear.
"I need to fuck you. You look really hot."
Well, fifty percent of it, anyway! "This is our wedding reception, Brian. We're the guests of honor."
Brian waits until several couples and small groups start to fill the parquet dance floor before he hauls his husband off to the nearest men's room, their partying guests tactfully feigning ignorance of their disappearance.
Only Missy sees fit to state the obvious. She looks up at Daphne, wide-eyed and concerned. "Where my daddies went?"
"Daddies?" Daphne stalls for time, scrambling to come up with something. "They, um, have to get more ice for the drinks."
Michael groans and rolls his eyes at her. "Ice?!" he mouths, laughing harder than anyone else within earshot.
Daphne shrugs, raising her arms outward. "She caught me off guard!"
. . . . .
"You brought lube to our wedding?!"
"I was horny when we were leaving the house." Brian drops the travel-size bottle back into his pocket after he spreads a generous glob between Justin's cheeks, pinning him face-first against the bathroom wall in the appropriately named Rainbow Gardens Wedding and Reception Hall.
Touting itself as hosting many a diverse union in the Southern Hills area, they make sure to christen it with their own special brand of diversity. With suit pants lowered just below their hips, Brian's palms cover the back of Justin's hands on the wall above their heads, the silver wedding bands on their left ring fingers tapping together over and over again.
. . . . .
"Brian, Missy's school is on line two."
"Thanks, Cynthia." Brian sets the latest contraption he's supposed to be selling down on his desk, frowning at it. "Can you get ahold of these people and find out what the fuck this thing does?" He presses line two. "Brian Kinney."
"Hello, Mr. Kinney," the secretary at Southern Hills Elementary School starts. "Neither of Melissa's parents was available, and I see you're listed as-"
"Justin and Daphne are out of town. Is Missy all right?"
"Well, she's gotten into some trouble on the playground again. Mrs. Connelly sent her to the principal's office, and Mr. Samson wants her to take the rest of the day off to calm down. Can you pick her up?"
Brian flips on the speaker phone and paces back and forth in front of his office window. "Are you telling me that my daughter is being suspended from kindergarten? Because of a scuffle on the playground?" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "What did you say your name was? What kind of a school are you running over there?"
"I'm only Mr. Samson's secretary, Mr. Kinney. As for the suspension policy, if you'll refer to the handbook that was mailed out on-"
"Save it. I'm on my way. Tell Missy to sit tight." Disconnecting the call, Brian curses under his breath and grabs his jacket from the hook in the corner. He didn't have anything better to do that afternoon than to speak to the principal of Southern Hills, right? He stops at Cynthia's desk on his way out. "Hold the fort down. Missy's in troub-"
"I heard. The speaker phone's pretty loud." Cynthia flicks a puff of lint from his shirt, sending him off into the wilds of elementary education. "Don't say something you'll regret later."
. . . . .
"I'm Brian Kinney. I was called to come and get Melissa Taylor."
"Dad!" Missy jumps off the bench where she's sat stewing for the last twenty minutes as soon as she sees Brian walk into her school's office. "It wasn't my fault! David and Bobby were calling you and Daddy faggots again, and I'm just so tired of it. They had it coming! I can't help it if they're wimps!"
"Whoa! Slow down. What happened?" Brian bends to hug Missy just as Mr. Samson appears in front of them.
"Mr. Kinney? If you and Melissa will come in please." The principal ushers them into his private quarters and gestures to the chairs facing his desk. "I'm sorry to involve you in this matter, but Melissa's natural parents couldn't be reached, and I guess you are . . .?"
"I married her father two years ago. I'm her other father. What's going on, Mr. Samson?"
Settling into his desk chair, he gets right to the point. "I'm afraid we can't tolerate physical violence of any kind on this campus. When Melissa resorted to kicking and punching two other students on the playground, we had to step in and take action. I hope you understand." Mr. Samson glares at Missy before he continues. "I think if she goes home today, we can resume again tomorrow with a clean slate. Assuming she understands that she can't-"
"Stand up for herself? Defend her fathers to name-calling classmates?" Hearing Cynthia's warning in his head, Brian stops himself right there.
"Well, you have to admit, having two fathers is . . . rare. Most children don't understand. The boys involved were only . . ."
"Repeating the hateful expressions they've learned at home? Harassing my daughter unnecessarily?" Brian stands up and helps Missy out of the adult-sized chair she'd sunk into. "I'll take Missy home now, Mr. Samson. Justin, Daphne, and I will decide if she'll be returning to your . . . campus," he goes with for the sake of Missy's five-year-old ears.
Mr. Samson takes a deep breath and rises also. "Melissa's a brilliant student, Mr. Kinney. We'd hate to lose her. I didn't mean to suggest that we can't try to curb the . . . uh . . ."
"Homophobic taunting that spills from the mouths of children these days? We'll be in touch." Brian holds Missy's hand and leads her out of Mr. Samson's office, but not before she shoots her principal a look that can only come from a child who's loved, nurtured, and understood at home.
. . . . .
"So how much trouble am I in?" Missy looks at Brian while he leans into the passenger side of his Vette and buckles the seat belt across her lap.
"Did you try to talk to them first?"
"Yeah! I've explained it to them lots of times, just like you and Daddy told me to. They just wouldn't shut up! Bobby Miller is so gross. I hate him!"
Suppressing a prideful smile, Brian walks around to the driver's side and gets in. "I think we should go visit Aunt Molly. What time is it?"
Missy studies the Hannah Montana wristwatch her parents bought her three months earlier when she'd learned how to tell time. "It's two-thirty. Are you gonna tell Mommy and Daddy?" Kicking her legs idly, she twists a lock of hair around her finger.
"Sure, we have to tell them. You know it's never okay to kick and punch. But you're not in trouble for refusing to be talked to like that or for defending our family."
"I'm hungry, Dad."
"I'm kind of hungry, too. I bet Grandma Jen has something good for us to eat."
. . . . .
Fifteen-year-old Molly Taylor peeks out of her bedroom window when she hears Brian's car pull into the driveway. "I'll call you back later, Allie," she tells her friend on the phone. "My brother-in-law and my niece are here."
"Hey, Mollusk. How's it going?" Brian gives Molly a peck on the forehead when she opens the door. "Missy and I thought we'd come over to say hi. Mother Taylor home?"
"Not yet. She had to show a house at two. Are Justin and Daphne still in New York?"
"Yeah. They'll be back tonight." Brian catches Missy when she tries to make a mad dash into the den where the video games are, telling her they're all going to sit in the living room and talk. He gets comfortable in the corner chair while she climbs onto the sofa next to Molly. "Daphne decided to stay here at Pitt Med, but they said Columbia's tour was really cool."
"That's good." Molly smooths Missy's hair back away from her face and starts to weave it into a braid. "Mom's been freaking out about you guys moving to New York if Daphne chose Columbia."
Brian laughs. "She's probably worrying herself silly." Then he nods at his daughter. "So Missy ran into a problem at school today. Why don't you tell Aunt Molly what happened, Missy?"
"These icky boys in my class. They tease me all the time. I hate 'em!"
"Icky boys?" Molly takes the barrette out of her own hair and clips it on the end of Missy's braid. "What do they tease you about?"
"Daddy and Dad." Missy folds her arms across her chest with a loud huff.
"Oh, that kind of teasing." Molly glances at Brian, beginning to understand why he brought Missy over to see her. Then she holds Missy's hand. "The boys used to tease me, too. I think I was in fifth grade. Even some of the girls did it. I didn't like it either."
Missy peers up at her aunt. "Did you have a daddy and a dad, too?"
"No. But your daddy is my brother, remember? When the kids in my class found out Justin was gay, some of them said mean things to me."
"Did you kick them?"
Molly looks back at Brian in mock horror, watching him shake his head up and down and try not to smile. "Missy, you can't kick them! You have to talk to them."
"Yeah, after I punched them, I shoulda left them there crying. Can I see my braid now?"
Reaching for her purse on the coffee table, Molly gets a little mirror out and gives it to Missy. "I bet you got in trouble with your teacher for physical violence. Schools don't like that very much."
"They called Dad. I had to go home."
Molly hugs Missy's shoulders. "The next time you get teased, tell the teacher which kids are doing it. Usually, they'll get in trouble for using slurs."
"The bad words. Like faggot. The boys in my class got extra homework for saying that word."
Extra homework for the icky boys? Missy's eyes light up. "Grandma!" she yells when Jennifer comes through the door. "Aunt Molly braided my hair!"
"Hi, honey!" Jennifer rushes over and picks her up, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so happy you're here." Putting her down again, she smiles at her son-in-law. "Hey, you!"
"Sell the house?" Brian stands up to give Jennifer a kiss.
"I think so. They said they liked it a lot. You two are staying for dinner, right?"
"Yeah!" Missy shouts. "Me and Dad are really hungry!"
"Dad and I," Brian corrects her. "We need to get to the airport by seven to pick up Justin and Daphne, but I guess we can stay and eat if you want us to."
"Can you make us macaroni and cheese, Grandma?" Missy hops around on one foot. "Pleeease?"
"I sure can, sweetie." Jennifer looks up at Brian, her features fraught with unease. "If Daphne transfers to Columbia Med School, will all of you be moving to New York?"
Brian grins and pats her arm. "Don't worry. Daph said she's staying here at Pitt Med. She just wanted to take Columbia's tour, and Justin went with her so he could check in with the New York galleries that do business with him."
"Thank God Molly and I don't have to relocate!" Jennifer exhales in relief. "Just let me change, then I'll start dinner."
. . . . .
"Hey! How was your flight?" Brian takes Daphne's carry-on from Justin's arm and leaves him with just his own messenger bag, pulling his husband in for some much needed close contact.
"It was really good!" Daphne laughs, refreshed from her evening nap.
"That's because you slept with your head on my shoulder the whole way." Justin grins up at Brian. "I missed you. Forty-eight hours has never felt like such an eternity."
Daphne hugs Missy and then searches in her purse for her lip gloss and a stick of gum while Brian and Justin get reacquainted. They still haven't finished after she coats her lips and discards the gum wrapper in the nearest trash can. "Come on, you guys!"
Hoisting Missy up into his arms, Justin kisses her nose. "It's getting pretty late for you to be out. It's a school night."
Brian plants a quick kiss on Daphne's cheek and throws his arm around Justin's shoulders as they head down to baggage claim. "Maybe not."
"What?" Justin and Daphne ask at the same time, both of them skewing confused looks at Brian.
. . . . .
"Mrs. Connelly's a very good teacher. We need to keep that in mind." Justin rubs his forehead in the passenger side of his Explorer while Brian changes lanes on the freeway. Exhausted after his whirlwind two-day trip, he tries to think with a clear head on the way home from the airport.
Daphne looks at her daughter strapped in beside her in the backseat. "Missy likes her, but she does complain about those boys all the time."
Growing increasingly drowsy, Missy listens to her parents discuss the day's events, not daring to interrupt them. She doesn't really want to change schools, but it's not her decision to make.
Brian smiles openly when he glimpses into the rearview mirror and finds that Missy's nodded off to sleep, no longer needing to stifle his pride in her bravery. "Molly made a big impression on her. Missy will probably think twice before she beats up those little brats again."
Justin turns around and takes stock of his feisty daughter, ringlets twisting down the sides of her face in slumber. "I had her reading before she went to kindergarten, but Mrs. Connelly has gotten her into the third grade reader. We'll keep her at Southern Hills for now. We can always reconsider if the situation gets worse." Grinning at Daphne, Justin sees equal parts of her and himself in Missy, yet he's in awe of her individuality. "Remember when we used to sit for hours with our hands on your stomach, just waiting for her to kick?"
Daphne laughs. "We were so young. We had no clue what we were in for."
"She knows she's loved. We must be doing something right." Brian pulls into their garage and turns the car off.
"It's easy." Justin feels the moisture pooling in his eyes. "We happened to get the best little girl in the world."