Chapter Text
Brian sat at his computer. His open document's white, blank nature caused his vision to swim. He rubbed his temple, trying to prevent a headache. At 38, he’d been a published author for a decade. He’d published his first novel independently when he was almost 29. Then, a year later, he’d signed a three-book deal with his current publisher. They’d forced him to write the following two books (his 2nd and 3rd novels, respectfully) in 4 years from signing on the dotted line. His 3rd book was published on his 34th birthday.
The only reason he’d been able to hold off the vultures about his 4th book in the series, the final as part of his book deal, was that he’d been diagnosed with cancer when he was 34. For the last three and a half years, he’d been fighting cancer and then recuperating. Part of his recovery process had been to purchase the nightclub where he’d spent most of his misspent youth. Babylon had gone under because Saperstein had misappropriated funds into his own pockets and had been more concerned with fucking the dancers than he was about turning a profit. The club quality had gone down by the time Brian stopped frequenting it when he was 34, just shy of his diagnosis. So, last year, when it went on the market, Brian was depressed about the cancer, so his financial advisor and best friend, Ted, told him to use some of his savings to buy a new toy.
With a sigh, Brian flipped the monitor of his computer off and decided that he wouldn’t get anywhere with this new novel today. It was only 4:30 in the afternoon, but he’d already been staring at a blank screen for 3 hours to no avail. Writing his first book had been easy. The words had simply flowed out of him like they were a piece of his soul. Brian believed they were. He crossed the room and left his office. A quick walk down a short hallway brought him to his kitchen, where he hoped there would be something he could eat in his refrigerator.
Most of the people in his life had gawked at him when he’d sold his loft right after getting the news that he had testicular cancer. The diagnosis had been his wake-up call. He stopped going to the club. He pushed Mel and Linds to renegotiate their custody agreement so that he could spend more time with Gus. Naturally, all this change meant he had to change where he lived, too. There just wasn’t room in his life for a fuckpad anymore. That’s not to say Brian didn’t still have sexual encounters with strangers; he just didn’t do it as frequently as he used to. Part of that was due to the side effects of the cancer (his libido wasn’t what it used to be) and partly because he’d gotten bored with all the anonymous sex.
What Brian wanted more than anything in the world, and what he couldn’t tell another soul was someone he could come home to. Brian wrote about love and romance in his book series – his protagonist having found the love of his life under a street lamp one hot summer day in the early 2000s when they were on the verge of truly growing up – but couldn’t make it happen in his own life.
After making himself a quick peanut butter and banana sandwich, something Gus had introduced him to and he was now obsessed with, Brian walked toward the back of his two-bedroom house to the ensuite bathroom off the main bedroom. The other small bedroom was Gus’ when he came to stay every other weekend and for a month during the summer. Technically, Brian could say his house had three bedrooms, but the third room had been converted into a study for his writing the moment he’d moved in. The woman who had sold him the house had told him it was the perfect room for guests, but had clapped excitedly when he told her his plans for the room. She’d been an ideal real estate agent if only Brian could remember her name.
He slowly got undressed and stared at his reflection in the mirror. If anyone were to ask Michael or Ted, they would say he’d never been better. According to them, Brian Kinney was at the top of his game. He was a successful author with three books under his belt and a fourth one on its way. Neither of them would say he was lonely or depressed. That’s because Brian hid those parts of himself from them. He’d had enough pity and sympathy to last a lifetime during the year and a half he’d been undergoing cancer treatments.
Just as he was about to step into his shower, his phone rang, making a hideous vibrating noise on his bathroom sink countertop. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and recentered himself before answering whoever thought calling him right now would be a good idea. He didn’t even look at the caller ID before answering, which was a huge mistake.
“Mr. Kinney.” It was Hunter, the young kid Michael and Ben had adopted. He was now 21 and managed the bar at Babylon. Brian secretly liked the kid, which is why he let him manage the bar instead of just working it. However, today, he didn’t have the patience for whatever Hunter’s nervous tone brought with him.
“Hunter, I’ve told you many times. Mr. Kinney was my father. It's just Brian.” Brian squeezed his temples between his fingers.
“Right. Brian, so we have a problem.” Hunter stalled, clearly not ready to incur the wrath that Brian is famous for on occasion. “I came by the club early because I wanted to be sure the alcohol shipment delivered this morning was stored properly before we open the doors. Anyway,” Hunter stalled out again.
“Just spit it out, kid.” Brian knew he was unreasonably exasperated, but Hunter wasn’t helping matters.
“Someone broke in and trashed the register. It’s not going to be in working order for tonight.” Brian could see Hunter’s nervous face and habit of biting his lip despite being miles from the young man.
“Did they steal anything? Did you check the office upstairs?” Brian was already throwing his jeans back on as he spoke. He could reach the club in about ten minutes once he walked out his front door.
“I don’t have a key to the office, but from where I’m standing, I think someone busted the window on the door and forced it open.” Hunter continued.
“Fuck.” Brian swore under his breath. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Just take stock of what might be out of place or missing. I will call the cops on my way.”
“Okay, Brian.” Hunter agreed, and then, just before hanging up the call, he added, “I’m sorry.”
Brian knew it wasn’t the kid’s fault, but he didn’t try to rush out words of assurance before the call was disconnected. He’d have time to reassure Hunter once he could assess the situation at the club. As he pulled out of his drive, Brian used his hands-free to call the local police.
“Liberty Station 23, how may I direct your call?” The chipper yet well-rehearsed voice that answered almost sent Brian’s nerves off the cliff.
“Hello, my name is Brian Kinney. I own the nightclub Babylon over on Tremont. My employee arrived to do pre-shift set-up duties and informed me of a break-in. I am on my way there now to assess, but I wanted to see if we could get some officers out to make a formal report.” Brian turned onto Tremont just as the woman responded to his statement.
“Do you have security cameras on your property, sir?” She asked in response.
Brian had to take a giant, steadying breath and remind himself that this was a standard question. “Yes, ma’am. I can give the police access to the tapes upon their arrival.”
“Great. I have informed one of our uniformed officers of the complaint. Our closest patrol car is dealing with a minor accident a few blocks over and will be to your address within 20 minutes.”
“Thank you,” Brian responded with a sigh of gratitude as he pulled into his reserved parking spot at the back of the club.
He pocketed his cell phone and climbed out of his Jeep. Brian did not have the energy or patience for this. It had been a long day, thanks to his doctor appointment with his oncologist and the tests he had run. Brian was confident his cancer hadn’t come back, but every time they went through the checkup paces, it was a bitch.
He shuffled across the parking lot, entered the club through the back door, and was soon met with Hunter’s harried expression. Brian forced a smile and let out a cough, leading to a coughing fit. Fucking summer allergies .
Hunter raised an eyebrow at him in concern. Brian waved his hand to brush him off.
“Anything missing here?” Brian glanced around.
“I noticed we were a few cases short on our shipment. High dollar stuff.” Hunter met Brian’s gaze solemnly.
Brian desperately wanted to punch something. He didn’t need this right now. Instead, he turned through the keys on his keychain until he landed on a small silver one. He then motioned for Hunter to follow him as he trudged up the stairs to the office.
“Have you gone up here yet?” Brian threw over his shoulder.
“Nope. I was waiting for you.” Hunter shrugged.
Brian shook his head, “I actually kind of miss the snark you used to have all the time. You were one hell of a bratty teen, but it was amusing to watch.”
They arrived at the office, and Brian sighed heavily at seeing his neatly organized employee and budget files strewn all over the floor. Before he could step into the room further, Hunter’s arms locked him in place against the broken door and its frame.
“We’ve got some time til the cops show up. I’ve always wanted to show you my appreciation.” Hunter waggled his eyebrows and looked Brian up and down before he pushed off the wall and laughed.
“Missed my obnoxious flirting, did you?” Hunter smirked as he started to help Brian pick up the mess of papers.
Brian rubbed his hand across his mouth, hiding his smile. Hunter was indeed a great person to have around in a crisis. The stress and anxiety that had been coursing through his veins minutes ago was gone entirely. Now, Brian could focus on checking the safe for the extra cash and important documents and ensuring they hadn’t been taken.
Once he got to the safe, it was clear it hadn’t been broken into. So, it looked as though the thief only made away with what they could find at the bar, which wasn’t much since the register had been empty, as they hadn’t opened yet. Brian wondered who would’ve broken in and messed with the documents in his office. Turning around to survey the whole room, Brian wondered if he had any enemies. Or worse, if someone had finally discovered his identity.
When he published his first novel, Brian purposely published it under a pseudonym to maintain anonymity, especially if the book didn’t do well. But when it sold well, and Brian hired a publisher, he kept the name. His publisher tried to say he needed to use his real name instead of Peter James to be more than a one-time success, but Brian stood firm. He liked living a normal life and not having to deal with the general public.
Hell, even Debbie didn’t know he was a published author. She still believed he wrote ad copy for Vanguard. His secret was much too precious to him, and Debbie meant well, but more often than not, she ran her mouth where she shouldn’t. In the early days of his writing career, Brian had contemplated keeping it a secret from everyone but Michael and Lindsay, but he soon realized he needed financial advice from Ted. And he couldn’t keep a secret from Emmett even if he tried; the Southerner was too perceptive.
“Brian?” Hunter’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He was holding Hunter’s employment file in his hand. Brian smirked.
He looked up and saw a couple of uniformed officers standing before him.
“I heard them arrive, so I showed them around downstairs. They wanted to see the office and talk to you.” Hunter gave a small smile before he backed out and headed back down the stairs.
“Hello, officers.” Brian tossed Hunter’s file on top of the desk. “I appreciate you coming over to assess the damages and theft.”
He gave them his most charming smile. It lasted only briefly before he started coughing again.
“Of course, Mr. Kinney. Dispatch said you own this establishment .” The older of the two cops scoffed as he looked around. “Are you sure anything was taken? Maybe just a jilted lover trying to get back at you.”
Brian licked his lips, drawing them in. He wasn’t going to lose his cool on this clearly homophobic cop.
“I’m happily single. I have been for years. And, yes, some alcohol was stolen from behind the bar. And so was our emergency stash of cash hidden at the back of the shelf under the bar.” Brian gave him a winning smile. “Not to mention the hundreds if not thousands of dollars in damages done here.”
“Lt. Bowers didn’t mean anything by it, sir.” The younger cop, a blond about Brian’s age, jumps in, hearing the bite in Brian’s voice.
“No, he did. But that’s okay. He doesn’t realize our money is just as good as his.” Brian stepped up to the older cop, “Bowers, is it? Maybe just take the report and let someone else investigate it.”
“I can take down your complaint, sir.” The blond stepped up again as Lt. Bowers glared at Brian, spit on the floor between their feet, and left to go back down.
Brian shook his head, rubbed his temple, and addressed the remaining officer. “What’s your name?”
“Officer Corbin. I, um, actually come here a lot on my nights off.” The young man looked at the floor all of a sudden.
Brian nodded and smiled. “Of course. I’m sorry you have to work with that .” He motioned downstairs before crossing over to sit behind his desk.
“Do you know why someone would target this establishment?” Corbin pulled out his notebook.
“You mean besides the obvious?” Brian raised his eyebrow. “No. I was just starting to look through employee files when you arrived. Maybe someone I recently fired.”
Corbin nodded along, taking notes. “How much was in your emergency cash stash?”
Brian closed his eyes. A headache was starting to form behind his eyes. “Uhm. I would say around $150. We don’t keep a lot there. Just enough to stock the register during a rush.”
“You also mentioned some alcohol was stolen?”
“My bar manager, Hunter, came in early today to put away our shipment. He stated that a couple of cases of high-shelf liquor were missing. I haven’t had a chance to check with our supplier yet, but my money's on the thief. I’ve never had an issue with my supplier.”
Corbin nodded again, looking over his notes. “Alright, Mr. Kinney. We have enough to start the investigation. If you find out more on your end, let us know.”
The blond pulled a card from his notebook and handed it to Brian. Corbin winked at him before whispering, “I also wrote down my cell in case you need or want to call.”
Brian appreciated the man’s balls. He full-on propositioned the owner of an establishment he was investigating. It was something Brian would’ve done five years ago.
After the officers had left, Brian wanted to go himself but knew his office needed to be put right. As he gathered the scattered files, he noticed Hunter standing in the doorway.
“Do you think it could be someone we’ve kicked out or fired?” Hunter had his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched, reminding Brian how small he used to make himself while working the streets.
Brian dropped the papers in his hand and crossed the room. Without a word, he wrapped Hunter in an embrace.
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ll make sure they catch who did this.”
Hunter returned the embrace briefly before he moved back, clearing his throat.
“Anyway, you need help up here?”
Brian shook his head. “No, I’m just going to be reorganizing these and trying to find something to point the officers in the right direction.”
“What are we going to do about the register for tonight? Or are we staying closed?” Hunter fiddled with the broken wood hanging loose on the frame.
“Shit.” Brian brought his hand to his forehead again. He bit his lip, thinking hard. “We are going to be open. I’ll think of something.”
With that, Hunter went back to the bar to continue the cleanup process. Brian watched him walk away until he was low enough on the stairs and fell out of sight. Brian’s headache was persisting to the point he could barely focus.
He pulled out his phone and dialed the person he could rely on for a quick solution.
“Em, hey. I need a huge favor.” Brian responded the minute his friend picked up.
“I will not have sex with you, Brian. I have to draw the line somewhere.” Emmett deadpanned, not missing a beat.
“Haha.” Brian snarked. “Do you know where I can get a cash register replacement in the next few hours?”
“Did you consider asking Michael? You know, the other budding entrepreneur in our group? Maybe he can loan you the one from his shop.” Emmett smiled brightly, and Brian could feel its warmth through the phone.
“Em, how do I survive without you?” Brian heaved a sigh of relief. He knew without asking, his oldest friend would come to his aid in a pinch.
“You don’t.” The queen laughed. “Look, I gotta go. Leavenworth’s Bridal Shower waits for no one.”
Brian wasn’t able to thank the man before he was gone again.
With one last look at the stack of files, he needed to move from his desk to the cabinet where they belonged. Brian decided to abandon the task and instead find a replacement register. He walked down to see how Hunter was fairing with his portion of the mess.
“Hey, do you think your dad could let us borrow his cash register?” Brian leaned on the countertop and watched the lad straighten the shelves.
“They smashed quite a few of the open bottles. I swear our shoes are gonna stick to the floor for months.” Hunter muttered, clearly not hearing Brian’s question but registering his presence.
“Shoes have been sticking to the floor of Babylon for years, and not because of the liquor,” Brian smirked. Hunter met his gaze and shuddered.
“Gross.”
“Oh, come on. You used to do much worse on the streets.” Brian quirked an eyebrow, “Besides, I was kidding. Now, about your dad.”
“Which one?” Hunter returned to wiping down bottles with a towel before placing them back on the shelf.
“Keep up.” Brian snapped his fingers. “Michael. The one who’d have a cash register we could borrow.”
Hunter shrugged. “I’m not sure. Why don’t you just ask him?”
Brian licked his lips. “Because he has the ability to say no to me, but with you, he doesn’t.”
Hunter shook his head with a smile. “You’re bad. Fine. I’ll ask him and then go and get it from him.”
“Good boy!” Brian gripped the back of Hunter’s head briefly.
——
It was after midnight, and Brian was finally back home. He was certain that if he tried to shower now, he’d fall asleep standing up, so he set his alarm for a little bit earlier and threw his clothes toward the hamper. He climbed into bed and was asleep within minutes.
The following day, his alarm blared much too early. Brian groaned but knew he couldn’t hit snooze because he was meeting the group for breakfast at the diner. And, of course, that meant he had to dress in a suit and tie. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
He got out of bed, coughing as he walked into the bathroom for a shower. The steam cleared his chest more than he’d experienced in days. These summer allergies were killing him this year. He washed his hair and body quickly before getting out. Usually, Brian loved to take his time showering, but today, he didn’t have time.
He walked over to his closet and tried to decide which button-down and tie to wear when his phone rang. A glance at the clock told him it was 7:45 am. Who the fuck would be calling him this early?
He picked up his cell and answered it. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and left ear, threw on a navy blue shirt, and fiddled with the cuff as he answered.
“Hello?”
“Brian? Oh, thank god I was able to reach you. We are kind of in a bind. Mel’s mom is in the hospital, and we need to be with her. I’d bring Gus, but hospitals are terribly boring, and it’s summer. Can you take him for your month a few weeks early?” Lindsay’s tone was highly anxious, and Brian knew the blonde was downing all the coffee and donuts possible.
He smiled, tucking in his lips. More time with his son was always welcomed. But he also liked to make Lindsay squirm a bit.
“I don’t know, Wendy. I’m pretty booked. I just don't have the time between writing, doctor's appointments, and public appearances.” Brian switched the phone to his other shoulder and worked on pulling his shirt on the other side.
“Oh, Brian!” She exclaimed. “You almost had me. But then you had to say public appearances. You hate the general public.”
“Guilty as charged. I’ll be at Liberty Diner for breakfast with the guys for the next hour. Bring him there. I’ll get him some pancakes.” Brian chuckled.
“You’re a lifesaver. Truly.” Lindsay exclaimed with a breath of relief. “See you soon, Peter.”
Brian hung up his phone and finished putting on his pants, socks, and shoes. He grabbed a light blue tie and walked to his kitchen to get his keys. He had a coughing fit just before leaving and considered bailing on Thursday's breakfast with the gang. Then his lungs calmed down, and he knew that if he didn’t show up, everyone would end up here, which was worse.
“You look like shit!” Brian was greeted by Michael’s harsh tone the minute he sat down.
“You would too if you’d been up half the night because of a break-in and then had to get up early the next day.” Brian groused and motioned for Debbie to bring him some coffee.
The redheaded woman came shuffling over. “You okay, honey? Your health still good?” She placed a gentle hand on his face and poured him a cup.
“I’m fine, ma. Just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night. Someone broke into Babylon yesterday morning. So, that was a nightmare I had to deal with all afternoon and evening.” Brian sighed but gave Debbie a reassuring smile.
Debbie placed a hand on her chest in concern. “Was anything stolen? Anyone hurt?”
“No. The place was empty. They got away with a couple hundred in cash and some high-shelf liquor. Hunter was able to help me clean things up.” Brian looked up at his mom and reassured her once more.
“Speaking of which. Where’s my cash register?” Michael stared at Brian from across the booth.
“Relax.” Brian sighed again. “I instructed Hunter to return it to your shop and set it back up for you.”
Michael looked as though he was about to argue when a blur of brunet hair and knobbly limbs attached itself to Brian’s chest and lap.
“Daddy!” Gus cried with a wide, half-toothless grin. “Mommy said you’d get me pancakes!”
Brian turned slightly to see a majorly put-out Lindsay. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and forced a smile as she dropped it by Brian’s feet.
“You do know he has clothes at my place, right?” Brian glanced at the bag.
“You don’t have my Superman shirts, Daddy!” Gus petulantly exclaimed, moving to the bench next to Brian. “‘Sides, I’m with you ALL summer.”
“Try a month and a half. That’s hardly all summer.” Brian laughed and made a face at Gus to get him to laugh, too.
Just then, his lungs revolted again, and Brian found himself in a coughing fit. He got himself under control and gulped down a glass of water, but everyone else stared at him.
“Jesus, it’s just a cough. Chill.” Brian glared at each of his family members separately, except Gus.
“I had a cough and runny nose last week. Mommy said it was poolen.” Gus shrugged, drinking the juice Debbie had left and brought back for him.
“Pollen, Sonny boy.” Brian rubbed Gus’ hair and turned to everyone else. “A trait he gets from me. Now stop clutching your pearls and move on.”
A small voice at the back of Brian’s mind started raising alarm bells about the cough, but he shoved it down. He didn’t have time to investigate that train of thought, nor did he want to. His testicular cancer had been hard enough, considering it had spread to his abdomen and his lymph nodes on the kidneys. His doctor has warned he could relapse with cancer in another part of his body. He didn’t have time to think of this.
“Brian,” Lindsay’s voice cut into his inner thoughts, bringing him back to the surface. He turned his head to look at her directly.
“Gus has a playdate with his best friend, Walter…” Lindsay began before Brian cut her off.
“Walter?! What is he friends with a 78-year-old man?” Brian scoffed.
“He’s eight.” Lindsay rolled her eyes, her patience for Brian’s usual banter nowhere to be found, “Anyway, he has this playdate on Saturday. You can just drop him off around 11. Gus will stay for lunch, and usually, when Mel and I pick him up, we stay for dinner with Walter’s family since we’re friends with his mom, but you don’t have to.”
“Thank you for the permission,” Brian grumbled.
“Don’t be a dick.” Debbie chimed in; Brian had forgotten she was still hanging around.
“Walter’s the best! He has the latest Mario!” Gus looked up from his plate of pancakes, pausing his fork halfway to his mouth.
“The latest Mario?!” Brian’s eyes got big in excitement. “Why didn’t you say so? Of course, I’ll take you over to see him.”
“Thank you, Peter.” Lindsay leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Gus, baby. Mommy and Momma Mel have to go away for a few days. We will call you tonight. Be good for Daddy.” She then leaned behind Brian to catch Gus on the top of his head.
“Bye, Mommy,” Gus stated without looking at her, more interested in his plate of pancakes.
Once Lindsay was gone, Debbie finally got around to taking Brian’s breakfast order. Then she, too, walked off to get back to work. Brian watched her walk away. Debbie had always loved him from the moment she met him. But that also meant she was his toughest critic. Brian hated that he kept his true career from her. She deserved to know the truth, but Brian also deserved to be able to live a life without harassment from people who were fans or otherwise.
“So, do you have any idea who could’ve broken into Babylon?” Ted broke the silence, sipping from his coffee.
Brian shook his head, “No, the one officer thought I deserved it. But, the younger one thinks they’ll be able to solve it easy enough. He was the one who sent over some forensic people to fingerprint the bar and my office. If it had been up to his partner, nothing would’ve been reported.”
Michael looked up from his eggs, confused. “Why?”
“Because, Mikey, it's a gay club.” Brian gave his best friend a pointed look until the dark-haired man’s demeanor changed.
“Ohhhh.”
“By Jove, I think he’s got it!” Brian mocked.
“Shut up, Brian.” Michael groused just as Debbie returned with Brian’s egg whites and wheat toast.
“I swear, you need to eat more. You’re nothing but skin and bones.” Debbie commented as she placed his plate down. He saw that she had added a glazed donut to his order. Brian smiled at his plate.
“It’s not my fault my body doesn’t gain any fat.” Brian shrugged.
The door jingled, and Brian turned to see who was coming in. It was a stranger, but the most beautiful stranger Brian had ever seen. The young man had to be almost 30 with hair as golden as sunlight. He didn’t look around or even make eye contact with anyone. However, Debbie must recognize him because she walks over to him and greets him with a nickname. Brian doesn’t pick up on their exchange because they’re too far away. Satisfied that he’d stared at the young man long enough, Brian turned his attention to his food.
——
A few hours later, Brian was back at his house typing away at his manuscript with Gus on the floor, playing with his trains. Just then, his train of thought was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone. Brian sighed. He had a specific tone for his editor, and this was it.
“Roger!” Brian answered the phone, making a face at Gus, who giggled.
“Brian, I’m waiting for your first draft. Can I expect it by the end of this week?” Roger was pretending to be cheerful and nice, which meant Brian was in deep shit with him if he didn’t have some kind of response.
“I can’t send you a whole draft, but I should have at least 3 chapters for you by then. I’m almost done with the first two as we speak.” Brian continued to type and talk at the same time.
“Brian,” Roger gave an exasperated sigh. “You know we gave you some leeway a few years ago because of your cancer diagnosis, but you’re obligated under your contract.”
“I know!” Brian stopped typing and practically hissed through the phone, “I went to see my oncologist yesterday for a follow-up, and I’m a bit rundown at the moment because of a cold. I will get you the first three chapters by tomorrow.”
Gus looked up, concerned at Brian’s tone, but Brian smiled at the young kid and silently reassured him.
“Fine. But we expect you to have the rest of the draft by the end of the summer. No more extensions, or you will be in breech of contract.” And with that, Roger hung up.
Brian threw his phone down and dropped his head into his hands. His whole body was exhausted, and the headache from last night had never gone away. If he didn’t have Gus with him he would’ve already crawled back into bed. Before he could start his writing once more, his phone went off again. This time it was the regular ringtone which meant it was from a nonsaved number or a contact he hadn’t given a special tone to.
“Hello?” Brian answered his cell, not recognizing the number.
“Mr. Kinney? This is Officer Corbin from last night.” The voice on the other end replied.
“Oh! Officer Corbin.” Brian relaxed considerably. “What’s the word?”
“Well, we had time to review your security tapes, and we found some suspicious people lurking about outside early yesterday, and one went out of frame, so we believe he’s the one who broke in. Because when we look at the time stamp on the videos from inside the bar, a person shows up in frame not 30 seconds after one disappeared from outside.”
Brian rubbed his temple, “That’s great. Are you able to make an ID off the video?”
“Unfortunately, the person is wearing a hood. But, we are still analyzing the fingerprints we lifted from the scene. Those might turn up something. In the meantime, I suggest you go about business as usual and let me know if you think of anyone who might have done this.” Corbin’s voice was gentle and kind. Brian’s dick twitched, hopefully. Fuck. I need to get laid.
After hanging up with Officer Corbin. Brian got up from his desk and went to the kitchen. Gus followed him, asking for some juice. Brian shook his head and smiled to himself. He was so grateful that after years of disinterest, Brian was able to convince Lindsay and Melanie that he deserved some time with his son.
“How about we go to the skate park later so you can work on your skateboard tricks?” Brian asked Gus as he handed the kid a glass of watered-down apple juice.
“Really?!” Gus’s eyes lit up, and he started to bounce around the kitchen. “Mommas, don’t let me skateboard; they say it’s too dangerous.”
“That’s why you only do it with me.” Brian tapped his nose to signify the whole thing was their little secret.
“You sure you aren’t too tired?” Gus stopped abruptly and looked up at Brian with concern. “You have what Momma Mel calls raccoon eyes.”
Brian knelt down to Gus’ level. He placed a hand on the kid’s cheek in gentle reassurance. “I’m a bit tired, but not too tired to watch you skate. Never too tired for that.”
Gus nodded, but his eyes told Brian he was still concerned. They were settled back in Brian’s study when his cell rang for a third time.
Gus looked up, “You’re super busy today, Daddy!”
Brian chuckled and gently shook his head, “I really am. Must be famous or something.” He stuck his tongue against his cheek and gave Gus a wink.
This ringtone was the one assigned to his doctor. Brian took a deep breath, tucked his lips behind his teeth, and steeled himself for an unpleasant conversation. He glanced over at Gus once more and decided he needed to take this call in his bedroom instead. If it wasn’t good news he didn’t want Gus to worry.
“Hey, Doc.” Brian tentatively greeted him once he finally answered. “Sorry for the delay. I have my son with me, so I wanted to keep him occupied before we talked.”
“I’m glad you did that.” Dr. Stevenson sighed, “Brian, I was concerned when you told me you’d been more tired lately, and then I heard your cough yesterday. So, I rushed the results of your bloodwork.” He paused.
“It’s not good is it.” Brian’s stomach dropped. His fears were realized as he thought over his bone-deep exhaustion and persistent cough the past week or so.
“I would much rather we have this conversation in person. Can you come by my office this afternoon?”
“I just promised my son I would take him to the skatepark.” Brian knew his excuse was pathetic the minute it left his lips. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow morning?”
“I would much rather you come in today. With your age and your history, it’s best we handle this sooner rather than later.” Dr. Stevenson all but confirmed Brian had relapsed.
“But, I’ve been in remission for over a year.” Brian could hear his own voice break. He wasn’t an outwardly emotional person, but it was all too much. He had just started to lead a life he was proud of. Brian was spending most of his time with his son, appreciating his friends like he should. He’d even stopped smoking and doing drugs upon his previous cancer diagnosis.
“Brian.” Dr. Stevenson was a patient and kind man, but even he had his limits. “Please come into my office at 3 pm today.”
“I’ll try to find someone to watch my son. He doesn’t need to hear any of this.” Brian replied before he hung up.
Holding his cell in his hand, Brian felt the sting of tears. He didn’t deserve any of this. Or maybe he did. After all, most of his younger years were spent being closed off and a borderline asshole to everyone around him, including his closest friends. After a lifetime of verbal, physical, and emotional abuse from his parents, Brian decided he didn’t need love. Love was something idiots convinced themselves they needed, but he knew the truth. You could only rely on yourself.
Then, he’d been diagnosed with embryonal carcinoma, one of the most aggressive kinds of testicular cancer. Go figure. Knowing that his cancer wasn’t so easily cured, Brian realized he needed to make some changes. He stopped drinking, doing drugs, and going to the club almost every night. He spent more time with his son and told himself that he was ready to find someone to have a serious relationship with. The only problem was Brian forgot to worry about the supreme likelihood that his cancer would relapse within five years.
Brian dropped his phone to the mattress beside him and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn’t cry. Not with Gus in the other room. He had to remain strong. His son didn’t need to know he was sick again. At least not before he got the details from Dr. Stevenson. No, Brian needed to take a deep breath and regroup. Gus was going to be disappointed that plans had changed, but Brian knew his doctor meant business. With another deep sigh, Brian got off his bed and went back to his study.
He stood quietly in the doorway and watched as Gus drew pictures in a sketchpad. The kid was only 8, but already he was showing signs of true talent. Most kids his age liked to scribble or make nondescript images and claim they were things such as a parent or a pet. But Gus drew things that actually looked like the stuff he would then describe. He must’ve sensed Brian was back because he looked up, smiled, and then held up his drawing.
“I drew us at the skatepark, Daddy!” Gus exclaimed. Brian held back tears as he looked at two somewhat humanoid figures on skateboards.
“But I don’t know how to do that. I barely function with my feet on the ground.” Brian stepped into the space and ruffled Gus’ hair. He leaned over and placed a kiss where his hand had been. “I really like it though.”
“Later, when we go skating, I want to show you this kickflip Walter’s older brother showed me.” Gus turned back to his art.
Brian cleared his throat. “About that. I know I said I would take you to the park today, but something came up. I can’t today, but I promise we will go tomorrow.”
Gus didn’t even miss a beat, “Don’t promise something you can’t keep.”
And boy, did that one hit Brian deep in his chest. Gus was old enough to remember the times Brian had promised to visit or come to some achievement of his and hadn’t bothered to show up. He had been making strides these last three years, but it didn’t make up for five years of disappointments.
“I can keep this one. I don’t have anything on my calendar tomorrow so we can go first thing in the morning even.” Brian bit his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving his son.
“Whatever.” Gus was disappointed but he’d never outright say it. “So, who will I stay with when you go do your thing ?”
“I was thinking Emmett. This thing I have to do. I don’t want others to know about it, and Auntie Em is the least likely to give me any grief about it.” Brian had a no-bullshit policy when it came to how he talked to Gus. The kid appreciated it and Brian found it went a long way toward building Gus’ trust in him.
“Facts.” Gus nodded, then, with a mischievous grin, looked up at Brian. “Plus, Em always gives me all the cookies I want.”
“No more than four,” Brian responded in his firmest dad voice.
Brian shook his head as Gus went back to happily drawing. He pulled up Emmett’s number and dialed.
“Wow, two times in one day, Mr. Kinney must be bored.” Emmett greeted him. “Or needs to get laid desperately, so he needs a babysitter.”
“Emmett,” Brian warned.
“Okay. Fine. What can I do for you, Brian?”
“One, I’m never bored. Two, I get laid more than you think. And three, it’s not babysitting when the kid is 8.” Brian leaned back in his chair. “But you weren’t wrong. I do need a sitter for about an hour around 3.”
“Don’t you think Gus would have much more fun playing around Michael’s comic book store than watching me prepare appetizers for a black-tie affair?” Emmett’s voice sounded a bit distant, which told Brian the man had put him on speaker.
Brian rubbed his temples again. “He probably would, but Mikey ,” Brian emphasized the name in an exasperated grit, “Would ask a million questions.”
Emmett’s breath hitched on the other end of the line. “Bri? What exactly will you be doing during this hour?”
Brian closed his eyes and sighed, “Dr. S wants to go over my test results from yesterday.”
Emmett gave a small gasp but then quickly recovered. “And you don’t need Gus knowing something is up.”
“Exactly.” Brian readily agreed. He was so glad he called Emmett. “I knew you’d understand and drop it.”
“Of course, no questions asked. Unless you want to share.”
“Not at this moment. But we will see what he says, and I’ll go from there.” Brian let out a shaky breath but masked it with a small cough.
“I’ll see you soon,” Emmett whispered, his emotions flooding through his voice. Brian knew his friend was going to wrap him in a hug the minute he dropped off Gus, but found in that moment he didn’t mind. “Tell Gus that we’ll be making Brownie Bites and Cake Pops. I’ll even let him taste test.”
Brian smiled, “Thank you, Emmett.”
“Anytime, Kinney.”
“Whatever, Honeycutt.”
The two hung up. Brian felt considerably lighter than he had hanging up with Dr. Stevenson. Even if he got the worst news a few hours from now, Emmett would be there to make sure it was business as usual for Gus. Brian wasn’t alone in this fight. The thought of having a family worry about him used to freak him out and send him running for the hills, but now, he embraced it.
“Sonny boy.” Brian broke the silence to get Gus’ attention. “We are going to head over to Emmett’s in about an hour. You can go watch cartoons if you want. I need to call your Mommy.”
Gus jumped up and ran to the front room. Brian watched his son leave, unaware that after today things would never be the same for him again. He didn’t remember Brian’s illness last time because Lindsay and Mel had decided he was too young to know. So, they hadn’t told him. He just knew that his Daddy was sick a couple of times when his Mommy brought him over for a visit.
Brian worried his lip; he didn’t want to give Lindsay the heads-up. When it came to emotional reactions, hers was always the worst out of everyone in the family. He knew she would want to rush back home to be with him and that she’d want him to immediately tell everyone else. But he also couldn’t keep this from her because if Brian had to start treatments right away, someone would need to be there for Gus, despite their custody agreement.
“Bri, is everything okay? It’s only been a few hours. Is Gus okay?” Lindsay’s voice was immediately on high alert.
“Gus is fine.” Brian sighed. “I just wanted to call and give you a heads up. My doctor called a little bit ago and asked me to come in for further discussion. I’m certain I’ve relapsed.”
“You don’t know that. He could just want to go over all the results and give you pointers on how to stay healthy.” Lindsay tried to be devil’s advocate, but even she knew her words didn’t sound confident in the slightest.
“What about Gus? Is he aware?”
“No, I left him in the other room before I answered my doctor’s call. And I’m taking him over to Emmett’s. He knows I have to do something, but he thinks it's for work.” Brian rubbed his free hand through his hair.
“Well, please let me know what you find out. We are here for you. Please don’t forget that.” Lindsay’s voice was back to being the strong, confident, empathetic friend that Brian knew and loved.
“I will. I might need to adjust our Gus agreement. Depending on what he says.” Brian bit his lip. The tears stung the back of his eyes again.
“We will cross that bridge when we need to. In the meantime, take a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine.”
“I’m not so sure this time, Wendy.” Brian’s voice came out broken and wet.
“You just have to believe, Peter.” Lindsay’s warmth caught him in his chest, and he smiled despite himself.
——
Brian sat nervously across from Dr. Stevenson. He had a file folder open with Brian’s test results inside. There was an awkward silence building between them. He knew the man was just trying to collect all the facts and determine how he would tell Brian, but that didn’t make the wait any easier.
“How are you feeling today? Any better?” Dr. Stevenson finally looked up, addressing Brian directly.
“No worse, no better.” Brian’s leg started to bounce nervously. “Can we just cut the bullshit?”
“Sorry, I figured I would ease you into it. I forgot you’re more of a rip the bandaid off kind of guy.”
“I’d rather you give it to me straight than worry about feelings.”
“Your blood work came back with an elevated white blood cell count. I would like for you to get a Chest CT done before you leave here today. That will just confirm what I already suspect.” Dr. S gave Brian a grim look before continuing. “I told you last time that your form of testicular cancer had a chance of spreading and taking root in other parts of your body. I know it’s been over a year since we cleared you, but there’s a chance that, at that time, your vascular system had an amount of cancer undetectable by our testing.”
“I know. You told me that remission didn’t mean completely gone, just that it was no longer actively detectable.” Brian sucked in his bottom lip and gave Dr. Stevenson a stony gaze. “Now, you’re saying it's detectable again and probably spread.”
“My guess is that it’s spread to your lungs or that you’ve developed lung cancer as a secondary diagnosis to the embryonal carcinoma.” Dr. Stevenson responded, his eyes soft and sympathetic. “We won’t know for sure until after the results of your CT scan and a lung biopsy.”
“What kind of prognosis am I looking at this time?” Brian whispered, barely able to get the words out past the heaviness in his chest.
“With lung cancer, your prognosis drops to about 60%, even lower if it’s in an advanced stage.” Dr. S reached forward as if to grab Brian’s hand, but he pulled himself back.
“Okay. Great. Let’s do that scan, and I’ll be on my way.” Brian needed to get out of this small, cramped office before he exploded.
“Brian, I understand you need time to process this, but please don’t bury your head in the sand.” Dr. Stevenson called after him. “I will call you when I have the results of your scan.”
With that, Brian left his office and walked over to the diagnostic center next door. An hour later, he was with Emmett and Gus, eating his weight in chocolate chip cookies and denying that anything was wrong.