Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gus doesn’t believe in labels; he believes in fucking.

It’s simple, it’s stress-free. You learn more about yourself without worrying about other people’s bullshit perceptions. Gus still struggles some days in that area. He’s quite the combination of his biological parents – with his father’s quick-to-judge attitude and his mother’s need for absolutely everyone to like her. Not that he’ll ever admit it.

Gus is, after all, the byproduct of the two most emotionally repressed people. Unlike his younger sister, Jenny Rebecca. J.R.’s biological family tree is full of loud and larger-than-life characters – meaning that she is in good company.

Gus is reminded of that fact yet again. They are in Pittsburgh, where he was born, for his high school graduation celebration. The festivities are held at J.R.’s father’s house since he and his husband, Ben, have the biggest backyard, and everyone is there. It’s not always the case that everyone can drop what they are doing and get together when he and his family are in town.

“Who wants another burger?” shouts an all-too-familiar voice.

“Debbie, honey, would you slow down?” Carl implores. He gives his wife a long-suffering, albeit amused look. “I can only grill so fast.”

“Yeah, Deb. This isn’t the diner,” Ben reminds her. “You don’t have to serve us.”

“No one will lose their pants if you don’t hop-to,” Michael teases, earning scattered laughs.

“That’s what you think,” Ted says, casting a wry look in Emmett’s direction.

Emmett smiles innocently while his fiancé, Drew, snorts into his beer. Drew is in the midst of a deep conversation with Ted’s husband, Blake, about a topic Gus cannot be bothered to follow.

“Honey, you’ve hardly eaten.”

Gus looks up and sees his mother standing there with a look of concern written across her features. Gus adopts a weary expression.

“I’m fine, Mama,” Gus says, frustration evident in his tone.

“You’ve been surly since we got in the car to drive here.”

“Oh, Mel. Give him a break,” Lindsay says, appearing behind her wife. She wraps her arms around Mel’s waist. “You remember what it’s like for young love to end for the first time.”

Gus’ eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. He retorts, “Young love is something that you read about in a fairytale.”

Michael shivers involuntarily and shakes his head.

“For a minute there, you sounded exactly like –”

“Someone wiser than most.”

Gus immediately rushes to his feet and turns to see his father standing there with a smirk on his face. A couple paces behind him is Justin. He is holding hands with a bright-faced toddler, Gus’ other little sister, while wearing his own perpetually amused expression.

“Hey, Dad.” Gus claps his father’s hand and they meet in the middle with a half-embrace.

“College Boy,” Brian greets him. He has taken to using that moniker in lieu of the traditional Sonny Boy. “Good to hear you still remember the tricks of the trade.”

“You’re the one who said a good trick is worth remembering.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mel mutters as Justin looks at Brian and murmurs, “Is that so?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Brian says, impassively. “I was told there’d be booze.”

Brian passes by J.R. and ruffles her hair, causing her to swat at him.

“So,” Emmett draws out, dramatically. “Who was the young Mr. Peterson-Marcus in love with?”

All eyes in the vicinity land on Gus.

“No one,” he emphasizes. “My mother is talking out of her –”

“Watch it,” Lindsay and Mel warn him. J.R. snickers.

“His girlfriend broke up with him,” J.R. sing-songs.

“You little twerp,” Gus hisses. “She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend?” Ted repeats. He looks at Brian in astonishment. “Brian Kinney’s first-born and heir to the throne is a breeder?”

Emmett cuffs Ted upside the head as Lindsay and Mel protest. Brian does not look any more impressed, but Gus isn’t sure if it’s due to Ted’s comment or the alleged girlfriend bombshell.

“No one says that anymore, Teddy,” Debbie points out.

“The times have a-changed,” Emmett agrees. Then to Gus, “Sorry to hear that, sweetie.”

“I would be, too, if it were true,” Gus says, flatly. “She wasn’t my girlfriend. We hung out a few times. That’s it.”

“She wanted more.”

“Would you shut up?”

“God,” Justin laughs. “You’re like how me and Molly were.”

“Aunt Molly?” Gus’ youngest sister asks.

“That’s right, Laurel,” Justin replies, crouching in front of the toddler.

Justin gently tugs at her left pigtail and she giggles. She’s quite cute – even more so when she scampers over to Gus and hugs his legs. Gus scoops her into the air. If memory serves, Laurel was named in honor of her Aunt Daphne, whose name’s Greek origin translates to “laurel tree.”

“Daddy says girls are smelly,” Laurel stage-whispers to Gus.

Gus’ lip twitches as his mothers and Debbie uniformly reply, “Is that so?”

“It is so,” Laurel confirms. Laughter echoes throughout the backyard.

“That holds up,” Hunter agrees, emerging from the house with more hot dog rolls. His girlfriend, Denise, walks with him. She playfully smacks his arm.

“You’d better watch it,” Michael snorts, glancing at Brian. “Your title as the leading heterophobe is being called into question now that you may end up with two straight kids.”

“I never count my eggs before they’re hatched, Mikey,” Brian says, sounding bored. “They don’t come from the co –” Justin deliberately clears his throat. “… From the source I’m interested in.”

Tired of the current discussion and his role in it, Gus lowers Laurel and makes his way over to the grill. Carl is the only one who’s not actively engaging with the conversation, so he figures it poses the least chance of it continuing.

“You’re practically the spitting image of your dad. Do many people tell you that?” Carl asks.

“Just about everyone who knows him. Which is admittedly –”

“Quite a few people,” Carl finishes with a chortle. “You’re different in a lot of ways, too.”

That is something that Gus doesn’t hear as often.

“How?” Gus questions, with genuine curiosity.

Carl flips several burgers before he responds. First, he looks over at where Brian is standing talking to Lindsay and Mel. Gus watches his parents talk as well. He does not remember too much from when he lived in Pittsburgh, but he does recall some of the knock-down drag-outs that the trio had often over him. Today, they’re all in a much better place in ways that only age and distance can afford you.

“You don’t act like people are lucky to be in your presence,” Carl finally answers. “You don’t even strike me as someone who particularly likes attention unless you actively seek it.”

“You got all that from the past hour?”

Carl laughs.

“That’s Kinney,” he says, shaking his head. Then, “I was a detective by trade, kid. The day that I can no longer read a person, I might as well be dead.” Carl transfers some burgers onto a plate. “Go on and take these over to Debbie before she has my balls and my spatula.”

Gus does as the older man asks and is intercepted by Justin on his way to the table.

“What exactly did we walk in on before?” Justin asks.

Gus gives him a humorless smile.

“You should ask the others.”

“I’m asking you.”

Gus shrugs.

“Everyone else seems to have their own take. Who cares about the truth?”

Gus excuses himself and spends the rest of the afternoon chasing Laurel around the yard.

Chapter Text

“You should speak with your son.”

Brian looks up from his phone.

“I thought that’s what I did this afternoon,” he drawls.

“Let’s see,” Justin says, contemplatively. He rolls onto his side so that his bare posterior is in the air. “You talked about college. You talked about the hottest nightclubs that he can frequent while living in Montreal until Lindsay threatened to have your balls. You –”

“I get it. You don’t consider talking, talking,” Brian interjects with an eye roll. “What would you have us talk about?”

“Your lives? Your interests?” Justin lists. “I’d even settle for what’s bothering him.”

“Who says anything’s bothering him?”

“Fuck off. I know you noticed it,” Justin says, sitting up in bed. He plants one foot on the bed so that his leg is arched. He swats Brian’s hand away as it creeps its way between his thighs. “I would prefer you wait until after we finish talking about your son to jerk me off.”

“If you insist,” Brian replies, but he grimaces. From Justin’s wording or his failed attempt to derail the impending conversation, Justin doesn’t know for sure. “What did I notice?”

“That he shut down when the girls brought up some ex-girlfriend.”

“Who he says wasn’t a girlfriend,” Brian points out. “He doesn’t believe in fairytales, remember?”

“Yeah. Real chip off the old block.”

Brian smirks. He gestures around them.

“Did I not get my prince his castle?”

Justin pushes Brian’s cheek away, but Brian knows he made his point. Justin isn’t that good at fighting a smile. The sun rises in the east. The thumpa thumpa continues. Justin’s smile brings sun to the darkest days. There are simply certain absolutes.

“Has he ever talked to you about his relationships?”

“Is that a thing kids do?” Brian says, skeptically. “Did you talk with Jennifer?”

“I – That was different,” Justin says. Then, he brightens. “Though it’s nice to hear you refer to that time of our lives as a relationship.”

“Who says I wasn’t talking about you and Paganini Junior?”

Justin looks at him with a flat expression.

“Do you want to be able to shoot again?”

“Sorry, dear.” Brian rests his head on his palm. “No. He’s never talked about it.”

“It’s never occurred to you to ask him?”

“About which parts get his rocks off? Surprisingly, no,” Brian quips. He rubs the corner of his left eye with the side of his left pointer finger. “There are, miracle upon miracles, some boundaries I am even okay with not crossing.”

“I’m not saying it needs to be a detailed discussion,” Justin amends, with practiced patience. “It just seemed that he wasn’t impressed by everyone’s assumptions about his life. That there was something more he wasn’t saying.”

“Focus on your brilliant artwork, Sunshine. Leave the plot development to Mikey.”

Brian leans forward to meet Justin’s lips, which effectively ends the discussion.

***

“Where are you going?”

Gus closes his eyes and counts to three. He prays for patience as he turns around.

“Out.”

“Out where?” his fourteen-year-old sister pries.

“Up your ass and around the corner,” Gus snaps. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“It will be when moms burst into my room because yours is empty.”

“I’m not fucking five-years-old,” Gus retorts. “I’m an adult, J.R.”

“You’re eighteen. And lower your goddamn voice,” J.R. hisses. “You’ll wake Vicki.”

She is, of course, referring to Michael and Ben’s six-year-old daughter, Victoria. Gus looks at her bedroom door before he glares again at his sister.

“I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation.”

J.R. rolls her eyes.

“Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want,” she mutters. “It’s your funeral.”

Gus leaves without looking back.

***

Gus knows better than to hang out at Babylon or Woody’s.

Which is how he finds himself chatting up some snobby, conceited asshole in Pistol. Fortunately, Gus can be a snobby, conceited asshole with the best of them. As luck would have it, the talking portion of the evening has since concluded.

“Let’s get out of here,” the Asshole breathes when they separate.

“Read my mind,” Gus says. “Your place?”

The Asshole nods and all but drags Gus out of there. They are about to get in an Uber when …

“Gus?”

Son-of-a-bitch. Gus releases a less-satisfying groan than a few minutes ago.

“Uncle Ted,” Gus says. He barely contains his grimace. “Uncle Emmett. What brings you to good ol’ Liberty Avenue?”

“Meeting our honeys,” Emmett says, slowly. “It’s date night.”

Emmett is clearly more focused on assessing the situation before him.

“Work,” Ted adds, pointing to Babylon. “Plus the small detail that we’ve been coming here since before you were born.”

“In more ways than one,” Emmett says, coyly.

The Asshole snickers. Emmett looks mildly amused as Ted rolls his eyes and says, “Your turn.”

“Oh, you know.” Gus glances at the Asshole. The trick-in-question raises their eyebrows. “Getting to know the locals.” The Asshole smirks. Gus looks at the others. “So, if you don’t mind –”

“Do Linds and Mel know you’re here?” Ted asks.

Gus scoffs.

“I’m eighteen,” he reminds them. “I don’t need their permission to go out and –”

“Dust off the Kinney Operating Manual?” Emmett finishes.

Gus opens the car door and the Asshole follows. Before Gus gets inside, he says, “Sometimes a screw is all you need.”

Without waiting for a response to his double entendre, he lowers himself into the car.

***

“He really said that?” Michael says, dumbstruck.

“Word-for-word,” Emmett confirms.

Ted nods as well and then shivers.

“It was creepy,” Ted adds. “He’s more like Brian every time he visits.”

“Jesus,” Michael says, running a hand over his face. He leans against the diner counter as he stares at two of his best friends. “How are we gonna tell Mel and Linds?”

Ted and Emmett exchange skeptical looks.

“Mel and Linds?” Ted says, doubtfully.

“We?” Emmett repeats at the same time.

Michael stares at them in disbelief.

“You think we should tell Brian? He’ll be thrilled to know his ‘masculine influence’ paid off.”

“I think we should mind our own business,” Emmett corrects him.

“I’m with Em,” Ted agrees.

“I’ll try to contain my surprise,” Michael quips.

Emmett tuts while Ted gives Michael a look.

“Gus is an adult.”

“He’s eighteen!”

“Which means where he goes and who he fucks is none of our business. If he’s not doing it now, he’ll do it when he leaves for college.”

“He’s their son,” Michael stresses. “When he’s living with his parents, they should know where he is in case something happens.”

“Did your mom have your every moment accounted for?” Ted asks.

“Do you really have to ask that?”

Emmett glances in amusement at Ted, who sighs before amending, “But did you tell her?”

“Of course not,” Michael admits. “But you know as well as I do that the world is different now. It wasn’t safe then, but there are all different kinds of threats now. Plus, I’m a dad now. Ben and I have some good years left with Vicki, but if J.R. –”

“Do you think she knew?” Ted asks Emmett.

Emmett hums around his eggs.

“One hundred percent.”

Michael drops his fork.

“What?” he hisses.

Emmett glances at Michael and sighs.

“Honey,” Emmett says, patiently. “Take it from someone who was tripping over his brothers and sisters growing up. There wasn’t anything that the others did that at least one of us didn’t know about. And what we didn’t rat each other out on to our parents, we saved for future blackmail.”

“Fucking shit,” Michael groans, covering his face.

“Now, does that sound like something our sweet little J.R. is capable of?” Ted coos.

Michael muffle-screams into his hands.

Chapter Text

“Jesus Christ, Michael. Did you really have to drag me into it?”

“You’re his step-dad.”

“Emphasis on the ‘step.’”

“Who definitely changed his diaper more than his actual father.”

“Which he hasn’t worn in nearly two decades,” Justin says, rolling his eyes. “Ted and Emmett –”

“Don’t say it.”

“They were right, Michael. I don’t care how much you don’t want to hear it.”

“Thanks for the nostalgia,” Michael grumbles.

Justin lowers his paintbrush and shoots Michael an exasperated look from across his studio.

“You came here expecting me to agree with you? When have we done that on anything other than Rage? Barely,” Justin points out. “Besides – I was younger than him when I first cruised Liberty Avenue, and I definitely didn’t appreciate my mother’s commentary.”

Michael knows that Justin isn’t far off, but he still searches for a rebuttal.

“Don’t you think I wish the guys never told me? I don’t want to keep anything from Mel and Linds. But he’s their son.”

“And he could be exploring his sexuality for the first time,” Justin points out. “Is outing him really on your bucket list?”

“Based on what the others witnessed last night, he’s no amateur,” Michael says. “He was coming out of Pistol, for Christ’s sake.”

“I guess it’s true that there’s no accounting for taste. Although,” Justin says, contemplatively, “at least it wasn’t Boy Toy. Those two are already too alike.”

“Exactly my point!” Michael stresses. “Gus may be eighteen, but he’s also only eighteen. He has family in his life that care about him in a way that Brian’s family never could.”

“Never would,” comes a new voice. Michael and Justin turn around. “They made a choice.”

“Brian,” Michael says, uneasily. “We – I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

“Clearly,” Brian drawls. He walks into the home studio and pulls Justin into a heated kiss, paint splatters be damned. Afterwards, he says, “Proceed.”

“I was just about to …” Michael tries, inching toward the door.

“Nice try,” Brian says. “What’s going on with my son?”

Michael and Justin exchange a look. Justin throws his hands up in the air, like: Go ahead and finish what you started.

“Ted and Emmett saw Gus leaving Pistol with some guy last night,” Michael rushes out.

“What?” Brian demands.

Justin blinks.

“You’re upset?”

“You’re damn right, I’m upset,” Brian says. “See, this is what happens without my influence. He’s engaging in various extracurriculars in a piss pot instead of his own father’s club up the street!”

“That laissez-faire ‘let the lesbians worry about him’ really bit you in the ass, huh?” Justin quips.

“And not in a pleasurable way worth writing home about.”

“If you don’t mind,” Michael interrupts them, “we do have bigger concerns here.”

“Oh, we do, do we?” Brian replies.

“You’re really okay with your eighteen-year-old son cruising for guys who could be your age when you and Justin met?”

“Why does he have to say it like that?” Brian deadpans to Justin.

Justin tilts his head in acknowledgment.

“We all know how much dirty old men appreciate young cock,” Justin says, flippantly.

“Some of us, more intimately aware than others,” Michael retorts. Justin rolls his eyes.

“What would you have me do about it?” Brian demands. He raises his eyebrows. “Chain him to the front porch? Stalk him and pick a fight with the next guy he picks up?”

“Mm, maybe not the second one,” Justin says, absentmindedly. He mixes his paint. “If memory serves, it will only push him into the other guy’s arms.”

“Make sure he’s being safe,” Michael insists. “Tell him that –”

“Sex isn’t that great?” Brian mocks him. “The thrill is in polishing his chastity belt each night?”

“You’re fucking hopeless,” Michael mutters. “Your son is going through something, Brian. It could hurt him if he goes about it the wrong way. Or does it not rank high enough on the Kinney Scale of Intrigue?”

Brian presses his lips into a firm line. Michael shakes his head and leaves the studio.

***

The same group as the night before are at Debbie and Carl’s tonight.

Debbie insisted on a proper send-off for the wannabe-Canadians, which meant Brian was expected to be in attendance. Or, at least, that’s what Justin told him.

For once, Brian didn’t fight it. He was too focused on what Michael informed him of earlier.

“I was just about to …”

“Nice try. What’s going on with my son?”

Brian wishes he had never asked.

Even after the Merry Munchers moved up north, Brian stayed true to his plan after the Liberty Ride. He did have more of a role in his son’s life.

He still didn’t consider his role a main one – even a supporting one – by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, he went from “special guest appearance” to “recurring guest star” in Gus’ life. It worked for all of them.

It also got easier as Gus got older. There was an easier understanding between the two of them as Gus entered his teenage years and realized just who his father is and will ever be.

If he were a different sort of kid, maybe he would resent Brian for having another kid that was in his life full time and he found it easier to take an interest in being around 24/7.

Gus wasn’t like that. He had two full-time parents in his life.

Brian never dealt with the moody teenage years or the discipline, and he hasn’t needed to think about that yet with Laurel. She is at an age where all she wants is to sit in her Daddy’s chair when she visits him at work, or force him into tea parties with her. Brian will never admit it doesn’t take nearly that much coercion.

Spiking his tea when she’s not looking helps as well.

This situation with Gus is well above his pay grade. Brian is not accustomed to being a hypocrite either and has no intention of telling his son how to live his life.

Even if he is skeptical of which company, exactly, he chooses to keep.

Brian wonders, Was the girl just a front? It wouldn’t be the first time a gay guy played the game of misdirection to remove suspicion.

But in a family of queers, it does seem a bit redundant. Or was it like him and Lindsay in college? Brian still chalks that one up to midsummer madness. It could be the same for Gus. In which case, father and son have yet another thing in common.

“Mel, honey, have some more rigatoni,” Debbie insists.

“Deb, really, I’m –” Mel begins.

“No arguments!”

Brian surveys the table over his wine glass, poured from the bottle he brought. He wouldn’t trust anyone else in attendance to bring something worth drinking.

Gus tried pouring himself his own glass, but Lindsay had swiftly swiped it and the bottle from him. Gus has worn a scowl on his face for the remainder of dinner.

Christ, he really is my kid, Brian thinks.

“So,” Debbie says, conversationally. “Did any of you boys go out and get lucky last night?”

“Sure did,” Emmett says, winking at Drew. Drew pinches Emmett’s side.

“Some of us had to work,” Ted says, dryly.

Ted glances at Brian, who adopts an innocent expression.

“You had some time to play,” Blake murmurs. Ted’s eyes crinkle in response.

“Theodore, Theordore,” Brian tuts. “What would Wertshafter say?”

“Hate to break it to you, Ma,” Michael interjects, “but we’re all in relationships now. The days of scoring are behind us.”

“Ouch?” Ben replies, causing scattered laughter around the table.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Michael continues. “But some of us already got a slam dunk.”

“Good save. And not even mixing sports metaphors; I’m impressed,” Ben teases.

“I’m deeply saddened that the bar is so low,” Drew says in amusement.

Before the conversation can veer off in a new direction, Brian says, “Some of us are still rounding the bases.”

As he says it, he arches an eyebrow while making direct eye contact with Gus.

Gus’ face remains impassive, but Brian can still see as the color drains from it. Gus’ eyes drift to Ted and Emmett, but they’re looking exasperatedly at Michael. As for Michael, he looks as taken aback as most of the table does by Brian’s remark.

“What does that mean?” Lindsay asks, warily.

Brian’s eyes have not left his son’s. Gus’ jaw clenches.

“Aren’t the three of you too old to be playing Telephone?” Gus snaps.

“Gus,” Mel scolds.

“Apologize right now,” Lindsay insists.

Gus doesn’t speak again. He crosses his arms and waits for a response from Brian’s friends.

“It, uh,” Ted stammers. “May have come up this morning. In passing.”

“At the diner,” Emmett clarifies. “Over a different kind of hash.”

“That’s cute,” Gus says, humorlessly. He looks at Michael. “What’s your excuse?”

“Excuse for what?” Mel asks, frustrated. She looks at her daughter. “Do you know what they’re talking in code about?”

“Yeah, do you?” Michael piles on, staring at his daughter.

J.R. gives Gus an unimpressed look. She looks at her three parents and replies, “Not my circus, not my monkeys.”

Michael opens his mouth to protest when Gus, probably thinking that his whereabouts are about to get revealed, interjects with: “I went out last night. Alright?”

The kitchen is silent as everyone absorbs that statement.

“No,” Mel says, harshly. “It’s absolutely not all right. Where the fuck did you go and how did you get there? And why,” she adds, with rising anger, “are we the last to know about it?”

“If it makes you feel better, Mel, I didn’t know either,” Debbie chimes in. Carl pats her shoulder.

“The word on the street is Pistol,” Brian sneers.

“Didn’t you say that’s where all the snobby, conceited assholes go?” Drew asks Emmett, who shushes him.

“You must’ve fit right in,” J.R. remarks to Gus.

Hunter coughs as he takes a sip of his drink. Ben rubs his back, with his own lips tucked in to fight a laugh. Mel and Lindsay, on the other hand, look as though their jaws might hit the floor.

“You snuck out to a bar?” Lindsay hisses.

“You knew about this?” Mel directs at Brian.

“He didn’t know until this afternoon,” Justin interjects. “We weren’t even downtown last night.”

“But you two were,” Mel says, rounding on Ted and Emmett. “You didn’t think to bring him …” She trails off and looks horrified. “Where did you go?” she asks Gus.

Gus remains silent but arches an eyebrow at Ted and Emmett, who are growing more uneasy by the second.

“He was …” Ted begins.

“… Otherwise preoccupied,” Emmett finishes. Ted’s head drops forward like a rag doll.

“You couldn’t have phrased that any other way?” Ted says in exasperation.

“Not really,” Emmett says, equally agitated.

“So, let me get this straight,” Lindsay says.

“So-to-speak,” Brian coughs.

Brian ignores Lindsay’s glare as he notes the twitch in Gus’ cheek.

“You broke curfew, snuck out, went to a completely unfamiliar area, picked up a stranger …”

“A pretty hot stranger, to be fair,” Emmett says, diplomatically. “What was his name?”

“What, are you shopping around?” Drew snipes.

Gus shrugs.

“You don’t even know his name?” Mel says, shrilly.

“They,” Gus corrects.

Mel blinks.

“Excuse me? There was more than –”

“No,” Gus snaps, impatiently. “Their pronouns are they/them.”

The table considers that for a moment.

“You don’t remember their name …” Carl says, slowly. “But you remember that.”

Gus shrugs again.

“Some things are important.”

“Fix. This,” Lindsay demands to Brian. “This is your influence.”

“Me?” Brian snorts. “You did your fair share of experimenting at his age, if I recall.”

“Oh, do tell,” Gus says, leaning back in his chair.

“Your father won’t, if he values his life,” Lindsay warns.

“Not to mention his one fully-functional ball,” Ted says under his breath.

“What about Alice?” Mel asks.

“Is that your ex-girlfriend?” Debbie asks.

“She was not my girlfriend.”

“Because you’re gay,” Ted clarifies. “Score one for Team Homo.”

“No,” Gus says, coolly. “I’m not gay. And I’m not straight.”

“You’re running out of options, Sonny Boy.”

“Only if you’re stuck in the last century,” Gus challenges him. “You may want to be young forever, but your thinking sure is antiquated.”

Everyone’s eyebrows shoot upward. Brian doesn’t respond. He finds he’s not even offended. Mostly curious. Gus takes his and the others’ silence as an opportunity to rise from his seat.

“Gus, stop. Don’t –” Lindsay starts, but Gus interrupts her.

“I’m not interested in qualifying myself to a table full of people who’ve already made up their minds about who I am,” Gus says. He looks directly at his father. “Your schtick was that you didn’t believe in love, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I don’t believe in labels.” He pushes his plate across the table. “Chew on that.”

Gus doesn’t wait for his words to land before he leaves the kitchen and walks out the front door. Lindsay rubs her temples, while Mel stares at the ceiling for patience. Several sets of eyes dart around the table.

“I like him,” Hunter declares. “He’s a pretty tight dude.”

Debbie and Michael each thump him upside the head.

Chapter Text

“It’s so different with kids now,” Debbie says some time later.

Debbie moves around the kitchen with such ease that Lindsay feels as though no time has passed. Certainly not thirteen years since they lived in Pittsburgh.

“I’ll say,” Ted replies. “We wore our labels like a badge.”

“There is a greater awareness of sexual and gender fluidity today,” Ben says, gaining everyone’s attention. “It’s a major, ever-changing topic of discussion with my students. A number of them have come to speak with me during office hours to express that they identify a certain way some days and differently on others, or that they are worried about choosing one label because they feel their families will give them a hard time if they decide differently later.”

“It’s the same with a lot of the young teens I’ve worked with,” Emmett says. Although he’s still a party planner on the side, he has discovered the joy and fulfillment of outreach work. He’s even married the two passions, planning safe space events such as proms and other festivities with specific LGBTQIA+ centers for at-risk youth. “There’s so much biphobia, transphobia, and even simply a lack of understanding about what it means to be non-binary. It doesn’t help that with all the new terms, there’s a lack of willingness by those in our community to educate themselves.”

Something Emmett says sticks out to Lindsay in particular.

A lack of willingness by those in our community to educate themselves.

Lindsay is not unwilling to admit her own biases and oversights. Her own privileges. She grew up in a WASP environment, and she still carries with her a lot of those ways of life. She’s also always presented as femme, which comes with its own privileges.

There’s plenty of things that Lindsay hasn’t forgiven herself for over the years.

“How could I have …?”

“Fucked a guy?”

“It’s not possible.”

“Anything is possible. It’s explaining it, that’s the tricky part.”

“But I’ve always been … you know.”

“A carpet-muncher.”

Things that Lindsay has not allowed herself to reconcile from fear of what she might learn.

“It’s okay to like cock – and it’s okay to like pussy. Just not at the same time.”

She understood who she was at an early age, and she accepted it. She was not like her sister. She was not like her parents – and thank God on both fronts. She was Lindsay Peterson. She was a dyke. A wife. A mother. A proud lesbian.

“I know which team I play on. It’s not a choice, or a preference – it’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been. A rug-muncher, a muff-diver, a cunt-lapper, a bull, a lezzy, a dyke.”

“What do you think I am?”

“Don’t ask me to make up your mind for you. You have to do that all by yourself.”

“I’m a lesbian.”

“Not if you’re having sex with a man, honey.”

Lindsay felt a pit forming in her stomach when Mel spat those words at her. She felt as though she was missing some sort of essential page to the guidebook when Brian laid it all out for her like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“You must expect miracles. Or amnesia. Well, I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want, but that’s par for the course, isn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s nothing I can do that will ever make you feel completely happy. You’ll always feel unsatisfied, and I’ll always feel like I’m not enough.”

Lindsay told Mel that it wasn’t true then, and that’s still the case now.

“Linds, hon? Are you feeling alright? You look pale.”

Lindsay stirs from her deep contemplation and finds several sets of eyes on her.

Her hand and dish towel are stalled on the same plate that she picked up five minutes ago.

“Sorry, what?” Lindsay says, blinking a few times.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Mel says, taking the dish from Lindsay’s hand.

Mel passes it to Michael.

“I’m fine,” Lindsay insists. “I got distracted.”

“By what?” Justin asks.

Lindsay is silent, but her eyes find Brian’s.

His expression doesn’t reveal anything, but there is a sort of understanding that passes between them. Not a kindred spirit sort of thing – though they do have that in other areas.

It’s as if a curtain has risen and revealed to them both something about Lindsay that they didn’t have the capacity to name. Something that she knows is uniquely hers and she never understood how much until their son allowed her to see it.

“In fact, there was even a time – when we first met – that I thought this could’ve been the reality. Did you ever feel that way?”

“No. Well, you wanted me to be serious, I … It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Lindsay doesn’t expect Brian to remember that conversation. It was one day of many that they spent in each other’s lives.

Sure, it was a ridiculous day acting like a married couple, but … well, that is its own separate can of worms.

“It’s getting late,” Lindsay says to Mel. “If we want to get on the road after breakfast tomorrow, we need to finish packing tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mel sighs. Then, she adds with a smile: “As usual.”

Even Lindsay knows that the smile she offers Mel doesn’t reach her eyes.

***

“That couldn’t have been more melodramatic if you tried.”

Gus scowls as his younger sister sits opposite him on the front porch step. His back is against the right pillar, meaning he can either glare at her or at his knees. He settles for his knees. He and J.R. bicker often, but he knows right now that the blame lands on him.

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Jenny,” Gus says. He only uses her name when he’s truly angry with her or wants her to know that she shouldn’t push him. “If you’re here to gloat –”

“That’s not why I’m here.” J.R. clears her throat and he finally looks at her. She’s holding his still mostly-full dinner plate. “You didn’t finish.”

“I don’t hear that often.”

“I bet,” J.R. deadpans. Much like her grandmother, she shoves the plate into his hands with zero room for negotiation. Gus takes it and pushes the pasta around until she rolls her eyes.

“If this is any indication of what you’ll be like in old age, you better fucking have kids,” J.R. says, candidly. “I’m not gonna be the one force-feeding you.”

“Thanks,” Gus drones.

He forces down some of the food. They are silent for a while until she asks, “Do you want kids?” Gus shrugs and J.R. hums. “I don’t think I do,” J.R. continues. “I love playing with Vicki and miss her a lot when I don’t see her. Laurel is adorable, too. But full time?”

“Yeah. You were exhausting enough to grow up with,” Gus agrees.

J.R. snorts. She rests her forearm on her right knee and stares out at the street.

“You were fucking brave.”

That’s about the last thing Gus expects to hear from her.

“What?”

“I’m not going to repeat it,” J.R. says, and there – that’s his sister.

“No, of course not,” Gus says. “Wouldn’t want to give the impression that you feel anything but judgment toward your big brother.”

“God, you’re a loser,” J.R. groans, and Gus lets out a laugh. “Do you think Mom and Mama will care? I mean, once they get past the whole clubbing and fucking strangers part.”

“How the fuck should I know?” Gus sighs, the fight leaving him. “They all act like it’s black and white, but I’m not here to accommodate anyone. I’m out of the house in a few weeks anyway.”

“Uncle Bri wouldn’t let them do anything like that.”

“Are you kidding? He’s the biggest label queen there is,” Gus scoffs. “He looked like someone told him he had to attend his own funeral when he thought I was straight.”

“What was the deal with you and Alice anyway?” J.R. asks, curiously. “Were you really nothing?”

“Fuck buddies,” Gus says. He pulls a leaf off a nearby shrub. “She caught feelings.”

“Heaven forbid,” J.R. mocks him. She shakes her head. “You don’t have to be just like him, you know. Even he learned to love.”

“That’s great for him,” Gus says. “But not for me.”

“Gus-Gus!” Laurel squeals, scampering out the front door. Vicki is right behind her.

“Hi girls,” J.R. greets them as Gus pulls Laurel in for a hug.

“We’re gonna cloud watch!” Vicki says. She grabs Laurel’s hand and guides her down the steps.

“Watch us,” Laurel shouts over her shoulder.

“Were we ever that carefree?” J.R. asks her older brother five or so minutes later.

Gus doesn’t respond, but he has a faint smile playing across his lips.

He soaks in the sight.

***

“I don’t wanna say goodbye,” Laurel sobs, clutching at Gus’ leg.

It’s ten or so minutes after Lindsay announces that they should return to Ben and Michael’s that they finally round up the kids. Victoria and Laurel were sprawled on the front lawn while the two older kids kept an eye on them.

“I know, sweetie, but it’s not saying goodbye forever,” Justin reminds her.

Gus squats down so that he can meet his sister’s eye.

“I prefer see-you-laters, anyway,” Gus whispers conspiratorially to her.

Laurel sniffles but nods in agreement.

“See you later?” she says hesitantly through a hiccup.

Gus fights a smile.

“See you sooner than later,” Gus promises. “Maybe your dads can bring you to visit a real college campus.”

“Can we Papa?” Laurel asks Justin, with hopeful eyes. Then to Brian, “Please Daddy?”

“I don’t see why not,” Justin acquiesces easily while Brian replies, “I wouldn’t mind reliving my college years. Even though I’m wizened now.”

Brian shoots his son a wry look that doesn’t put off Gus at all. Instead, it seems to encourage some sort of thought behind his eyes. A test.

“Can I crash at your guys’ tonight?” he suddenly asks.

“Yay! Sleepover!” Laurel cheers.

That earns a laugh from J.R., who is otherwise preoccupied with bouncing her younger sister in her arms and drawing giggles from Vicki.

Brian looks at Justin who shows no sign of protest. Brian replies, “Ask Mel and Linds.”

Gus looks silently at his mothers. As they appraise the situation, Gus says, “I only have a duffel and basically packed it before dinner. All that’s left are toiletries.”

Mel doesn’t look overly pleased, but it’s hard to refuse with how eager Laurel is by the idea. So it falls on Lindsay to respond.

“Go say your goodbyes to Debbie and your Uncle Michael,” she says. “We’ll pick you up no later than nine o’clock.”

Gus nods and hurries into the house to say those aforementioned goodbyes.

“I’m trusting against my better instinct that you won’t make this more difficult,” Mel says to Brian. She adds to Justin, “That you’ll oversee things.”

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter to spend time with my son,” Brian snaps.

“No? Maybe just someone to filter some of your more ass backwards opinions.”

“Hmm, well, you ought to know. You’re not exactly in short supply.”

Gus emerges before the war of words reaches a point-of-no-return. He lets his mothers hug him and nods at J.R. before they leave Debbie and Carl’s.

The group dissipates shortly thereafter.

***

Gus is tasked with keeping Laurel awake on the drive home – “Normally, I sit back there with her while your dad mocks me mercilessly,” Justin says – and is successful. Apparently, it is the best way to ensure that she sleeps through the night. It seems to work, too, because she is out like a light when her head hits the pillow and they don’t hear a peep from her for the rest of the night.

Brian is now showering while Justin and Gus sit in the living room.

“Was she always going to be your biological child?” Gus asks Justin.

“We talked about it for a while,” Justin reminisces. “Brian kept saying that he already has a child who looks like him and the world needs more sunshine.”

“Jesus,” Gus groans, and Justin laughs.

“Yeah, I told him that was too sappy even for me,” Justin says. “He knew how important being a father was to me at that point. Especially …” Justin waves his hand carelessly, but his demeanor gives away his true feelings. “Given everything with my own father.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Only the idea of who I thought he was,” Justin says. “Any desire I had for a genuine connection ended once he had me arrested.”

“He had you arrested?”

“You’ve never heard that story?” Justin proceeds to take Gus back to the year 2005. A year that hardly feels real to Gus, but Justin assures him was full of excitement and chaos.

“What a twat,” Gus mutters, then looks uneasily at Justin. “Sorry.”

“No need,” Justin says, breezily. “Craig is a twat.”

“Laurel adores you. Always will,” Gus says, unsure why he feels the need to reassure a man who clearly doesn’t need it. “You’d never turn your back on her or judge her for who she is.”

“Neither will your dad.” There’s a pause. “Or your moms.”

Gus’ expression shutters.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” Justin says. “Though, in my experience, I’ve found that chips are better eaten than worn as shoulder pads.”

“You think that’s what this is?” Gus demands. “I don’t think I’m some fucking victim.”

“Has anyone called you one?” Justin asks, calmly. Gus purses his lips. “Honestly, I’m not even the best one to talk to about all this. Ben and Emmett are the ones with the deeper intellectual understanding of sex and gender. All I know is what I’ve read and observed on my own.”

“You don’t need a PhD or some shit to not give a fuck about where other people stick it.” Gus scowls at the fireplace. “They just kept fucking pushing the topic.”

“Your moms,” Justin clarifies, and Gus grunts.

“Don’t say they meant well.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gus looks at Justin and finds no insincerity.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone knows now, so that’s that.”

“You’re allowed to be pissed about the timing,” Justin says. “Just because your world doesn’t collapse from under you or your parents don’t curse your name, doesn’t mean that it’s not still upsetting. When my mom asked if I had a boyfriend like she was asking about the weather, I damn near crashed the car.”

“What about Dad’s parents?” Gus asks.

“What about them?” Justin replies, carefully.

“Did he tell them he’s gay?” Gus furrows his brows. “Are they alive? What about siblings?”

Gus didn’t even realize these were questions he had until they poured out of him. However, Justin looks tremendously uncomfortable.

“This is really a conversation you should have with your dad.”

“He doesn’t talk about them,” Gus says with a frown. “Or anything about his childhood.”

“There’s a reason for that.” The two of them turn as Brian emerges. He’s only wearing pajama bottoms as he towel-dries his hair. “I don’t think about it.”

“I’m gonna go shower,” Justin announces. It’s phrased partially as a question, so Brian nods.

Justin kisses his husband’s bare shoulder as he passes him. It leaves father and son alone. The latter watches curiously as his dad pulls a white stick from behind his ear. Gus realizes that it is not a cigarette, upon closer inspection.

Brian catches his son staring and rolls his eyes. He wordlessly extends it. Gus’ eyebrows shoot up at the offer.

“Really?”

“What?” Brian scoffs. “You expect me to believe you’ve perfected the art of cruising but you’ve never smoked pot?”

“Mom has the nose of a bloodhound,” Gus says, referring to Lindsay.

Gus swears he hears Brian mutter, “Hypocrite” under his breath. Then, he says, “Your choice. But if they smell it on you, you’re on your own.”

Gus accepts the freshly rolled joint and surveys it for only another second before he inhales. He just barely manages not to gag, but his eyes water from the strain.

“Not bad,” Brian chuckles. “Don’t be a hero.”

“I guess you’d know a thing or two about that,” Gus wheezes.

“So they tell me.” Brian collapses onto a lounger across from him and props his feet on the table. He studies his son. “I had an older sister.”

Gus coughs slightly after the second inhale. He passes the joint back to Brian, already feeling slightly woozy from the consecutive hits.

“Is she …?”

“No. Unfortunately,” Brian says, exhaling smoke with practiced ease. Gus blinks. “Last I heard, her youngest demon spawn knocked someone up and her oldest is doing time for aggravated sexual assault. Which, believe me, is funnier than it sounds.”

Gus decides to take his father’s word for it.

“What about your parents?”

Gus often wondered while growing up about his grandparents. Many kids in elementary school had both sets and were amazed he had “extras”, even though he explained that he didn’t know any of them.

Mel’s father passed before he was born and her mom, when he was young. Lindsay’s mom died several years ago, and he knows that she has a sister who barred their family from the funeral – although Gus and J.R. never met any of them.

Lindsay speaks on major holidays and birthdays to her dad now. When Gus asked why, since he never defended her, Lindsay just said, “As easy as it is to hate, it’s equally difficult to forget how to love.”

That leaves his father’s parents. The biggest question mark on the family tree.

“What do you want to know?” Brian grits out.

“Anything you’re willing to share.”

Perhaps that comment was a bit backhanded, but Brian swallows it like a spoonful of sugar.

“Jack Kinney. Died of cancer when you were a baby. You met him.” Brian looks at the wall with a distant expression. “Told me it should be me dying after I told him I’m gay.”

It takes Gus a moment to process that. He makes a disgusted noise when he finally does.

“Saint Joan Kinney. Still very much alive. Probably praying for her godless fag of a son.”

Gus feels a chill run down his spine.

“Did she call you that?”

“Some things are subtext. You’ll learn that soon enough, College Boy.”

“I’m sorry,” Gus says, quietly.

Brian shrugs.

“I’d have gone my entire life not telling them. We wouldn’t have been better or worse for it,” Brian says. “Once I was eighteen, I was out of there.” He pauses. “Before then, too. I spent most days at Mikey’s house.”

“Why did you tell them if you didn’t care what they thought?”

“I didn’t tell her,” Brian says, in partial answer to Gus’ question. “She stopped by unannounced and saw Justin.”

Gus can read between the lines and grimaces at what Brian doesn’t say. Despite his sympathy, Gus does feel his hackles rise. He’s unable to help himself when he asks, “Is this when you tell me I shouldn’t have kept my life private because I have people who love me?”

“Linds was right,” Brian laughs, disposing of the finished joint. “I should’ve spent more time with you.” Gus looks at his father, uncomprehending. “You don’t know me at all.”

Brian leans forward so that his forearms rest on his legs.

“Listen to me, Sonny Boy. Are you listening?”

Gus sighs in frustration, but says, “Yes, Dad, I’m listening.”

“I don’t give a shit who you fuck or what it means to you. Guy, girl … whatever else – it doesn’t matter.” Brian stares at him, unblinking, as he says his next words. “Just that you’re safe.”

“That I’m …” Gus runs a hand through his hair. “They already had that talk with me.”

“Well, you’re gonna get it again, because it’s different for a couple of monogamous dykes. Never,” Brian emphasizes, “never fuck anyone or let anyone fuck you without a condom. Regardless of how much you ‘trust’ them. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“The new drugs, the lower rates of infection – that shit only matters on a spreadsheet,” Brian adds. “Don’t let some cunt-y fag convince you that being on PrEP means you’re safe.”

“Why do you say all those slurs?” Gus asks, abruptly.

“That’s your takeaway?”

“You’re deflecting.”

Brian leans back in his chair. It takes him a few moments to respond.

“What does your generation call it?” Brian snaps his fingers and points to Gus with an ironic expression. “Ah. Reclaiming. Another fucking ridiculous buzzword that a five-year-old might have dreamed up for a campaign.”

“So, if not that, then what?” Gus asks.

Brian shrugs a shoulder and gets to his feet. He crosses the room to head back toward his bedroom. He stalls once he gets to the doorway.

“Self-preservation.” It’s said as a question rather than a statement. “I don’t remember anymore.”

***

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left Deb’s.”

Mel feels Lindsay’s eyes on her as the former folds some of their freshly-cleaned laundry. She doesn’t immediately look up to meet Lindsay’s eye as she continues with: “Are you alright?”

“I’m not sure,” Lindsay says, candidly. Mel nods. “Our son got me to reflect on how different his experience is to ours.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mel murmurs. “My father would’ve backhanded me if I spoke to him the way he spoke to Brian.”

“I think, oddly enough, it makes Brian proud to hear Gus sound so self-assured.”

“There’s self-assuredness, and there’s disrespect.”

“I guess it was only a matter of time before he picked up on how we’ve all spoken to each other over the years when we disagree.”

Mel purses her lips and doesn’t say anything. She is more than capable of owning her part in her and Brian’s acrimonious relationship.

It doesn’t change the fact that sparring with him always contained elements of self-preservation. Sink or swim. Kill or be killed.

Whether Lindsay is willing to admit it or not.

“I’ve always envied how he knows exactly who he is and what he stands for.”

“Not me,” Mel says. “There’s no wiggle room or space to grow. No one is meant to be fully-developed at the age of twenty. Unless you’re Peter Pan.”

“Or, in my case, Wendy,” Lindsay says, coyly.

Mel does look up now. She meets Lindsay’s gaze as she asks, “What does that leave me as? Captain Hook?”

“You?” Lindsay says, thoughtfully. She shakes her head. Gently, she says, “You’re better than a character. You’ve never needed to hide behind anything or anyone. It’s why I was drawn to you. Why I find it so easy to love you.”

A smile tugs at Mel’s lips. But, because she’s feeling vulnerable, she drawls, “Easy, huh? That’s a word I’ve never heard used to describe loving me.”

“We’ve had our bumps,” Lindsay concedes. “But you said it yourself that you love it when we ride together.”

Mel feels a heat pooling in her stomach from the twinkle in Lindsay’s eye. She kneels her way across the bed until she successfully pulls her wife in for a kiss.

Lindsay draws back before it can deepen.

“There’s still so much packing,” Lindsay reminds her with a weary smile.

Mel rests her hands on her thighs. She leans on her haunches as she considers her next words.

“I wouldn’t mind unpacking a few things.”

“Huh?” Lindsay says, distractedly.

“Like where you went earlier while washing the dishes,” Mel clarifies. Lindsay’s movements are no less consistent, but they’re slower. “And right now. Talk to me, Linds.”

Lindsay puts down the pair of socks that she was rolling. She leans on the bed.

“‘It’s okay to like cock – and it’s okay to like pussy. Just not at the same time,’” Lindsay quotes to her. Mel blinks. “Brian said that to me.”

Mel’s eyes narrow. She immediately feels a different heat licking at her sides. A fighting spirit.

“Tonight?”

Lindsay shakes her head and replies, “About Sam.”

Mel really wasn’t expecting that blast from the past. Most days, she manages to think of the highlights of her pregnancy rather than what was easily the lowest moment.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I figured you wouldn’t.”

The way Lindsay says it raises Mel’s hackles.

“Can you blame me?” Mel inquires. “Would you like it if I brought up … what’s her …?”

“Marianne,” Lindsay supplies. “I wouldn’t like it, but I would also be surprised. Considering how, at the time of my affair, mine was treated as a betrayal in its own league.”

“We were married and I was pregnant!”

“You know as well as I that those reasons come behind the real reason why mine was worse.”

“Lindsay –”

“Because I slept with a man.” Mel feels the air leave her lungs like it’s the first time she learned of the affair all over again. “What was it that you said to me? That being a dyke wasn’t a choice for you, but I needed to make up my own mind about who I am?”

The long-buried memories come rushing back for Mel.

“I’m a lesbian.”

“Not if you’re having sex with a man, honey.”

“Are you …?” Mel isn’t sure how that question ends. “Are you having doubts?”

“About loving you? No,” Lindsay says with total certainty. After all these years, Mel can hear the difference. “About whether I’ve granted myself permission to love what terrifies me most about myself?” Lindsay’s voice trembles as she utters, “Yes.”

“Oh, honey,” Mel sighs. “I …”

“I will always regret cheating on you,” Lindsay says, fervently. “I will always regret the pain that I inflicted upon you, especially during such an intensely vulnerable time in your life.”

“Gus’ outburst tonight made me realize I’ve felt ashamed of myself for the wrong reasons. It was the same feeling – or at least, similar – to how I’ve felt about mine and Brian’s one time together in college.”

“I don’t know if the two incidents are isolated or otherwise. All I know is feeling like I failed as a lesbian reminded me of when I was told I failed as a daughter. When I wasn’t ‘straight enough.’”

Mel finds her next words easier to say than she could have envisioned fourteen years ago.

“I’m sorry for my part in making you feel lesser. For acting like your cheating is worse, because of who it was with. At the end of the day, getting intimate with anyone else is a betrayal we are both guilty of.”

Another memory occurs to Mel. She grimaces.

“What? What is it?” Lindsay asks.

Mel feels a tightness in her chest.

“There’s nothing I can do that will ever make you feel completely happy. You’ll always feel unsatisfied, and I’ll always feel like I’m not enough.”

“I said that to you,” Mel says, pained.

“Yeah,” Lindsay replies. She gives Mel a sad smile. “You were hurting.”

“Don’t make excuses,” Mel says, shaking her head. “Regardless of how you identify or … that was biphobic as shit.”

“You’re looking at something that you said J.R.’s entire lifetime ago through modern day lenses,” Lindsay points out. “It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t kind. But it was how you felt and all you knew.”

“What if it’s more than that?” Mel asks, feeling a spike of panic. “What if I’ve articulated similar or the same sentiments around the kids, and it’s why Gus never told us how he identifies?”

“What if Gus recognized my shame and self-doubt, and it’s why he never told us about how he identifies?” Lindsay challenges.

“What if –?”

“We’re getting dangerously close to the legal limit of what-if’s.” Lindsay says the remark with a teasing smile.

Mel exhales and squeezes Lindsay’s hands.

“What if,” Mel presses on, “our kids doubt how much we love them? How that’d never change.”

Lindsay pulls her in for a hug. Mel melts into the embrace.

“I guess we’ll just have to remind them,” Lindsay whispers. “Together.”

Mel breathes her in and feels a third type of warmth.

“Together.”

Chapter Text

Gus wakes up the next morning with a headache. He’s not sure if it’s related to the weed or the memory of last night’s theatrics, but it nevertheless irritates him.

It doesn’t help matters that he wakes up at six o’clock and cannot fall back to sleep. He accepts it as a lost cause and gives himself a good shower so his mothers do not throw a fit.

It’s when he enters the kitchen at seven o’clock that he realizes he’s not the only early riser.

“‘Morning, College Boy,” Brian greets him.

“Good morning,” Gus says, his throat scratchy. Brian snorts. “Does that go away?”

“In due time,” Brian replies, still chuckling. “Though, I’d never encourage such a filthy habit.”

“Of course,” Gus drawls, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He asks wordlessly through a gesture if his father wants a refill. Brian extends the cup in silent acceptance. “Where’s Justin and –?”

“Gus-Gus!”

“Asked and answered,” Brian remarks from behind his newspaper.

Gus quickly but carefully puts down his mug of coffee before Laurel can barrel into him.

“Hi!” Laurel chirps, with a bright smile.

Gus picks her up and rests her on his hip.

“Hi, yourself,” he greets her. “Did you enjoy our sleepover?”

“I fell asleep,” Laurel pouts.

“I know,” Gus nods. Then, like he’s admitting a big secret, he whispers, “So did I.”

Laurel giggles and throws her arms around his neck. She’s a remarkably affectionate child. Though Gus supposes that shouldn’t surprise him, knowing how Justin is as well. What still takes him by surprise is how warm their father is with her.

Not that he thinks Brian wants to portray indifference toward her, but it wouldn’t surprise Gus if the fear of loving unconditionally made the thought cross his mind before immediately rejecting it. Because it’s different than it was with him. Gus always grew up at a distance from their dad. Gus could walk out of his life tomorrow and he knows that his dad would go on loving him, but that he’d carry on with past experience to guide him and ease the sting.

“Is Papa awake?” Brian asks Laurel.

“Quite,” comes Justin’s voice as he enters the room. “This rugrat saw to that.”

Despite her age, Laurel smirks in such a way that punches a laugh right out of Gus.

“Jesus,” Gus says, wheezing. “That’s as close to her looking like both of you as she can get.”

Gus puts her down. Laurel proceeds to guide Justin to the cabinets, where he allows the three-year-old to select her cereal. As he pours it, Justin addresses Gus.

“Ready to go?” Gus hums in acknowledgment. “Linds said they’d be here in twenty minutes.” Justin glances at his husband. “She wants to speak with you before they get on the road.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Brian says, giving every indication that he knows the exact reason.

“Comparing parenting tips?” is Gus’s caustic remark.

“Pace yourself with that searing wit,” Justin replies. Gus raises an eyebrow. “There’s a five-hour drive ahead of you. You don’t want to give too much too soon and run out of places to go.”

“That’s excellent advice, Sunshine,” Brian says, amused. “Plus, it’s applicable to certain other extracurriculars.”

“I haven’t received any complaints,” Gus says, before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“Yes, well,” Justin deadpans. “It seems the genetic precedent strikes again.”

Gus looks ironically at his father at the same time as Brian meets his gaze.

They clink their coffee mugs together.

***

“Everything went well last night?”

“Peachy,” Brian drawls. Lindsay gives him an exasperated look. “We braided each other’s hair and swapped biggest di –”

“That’s quite enough of that. Thank you,” Lindsay groans.

“You asked.”

“And all these years later, you’re still full of shit,” she retorts. “Unwilling to admit that you care as much about his happiness and safety –”

“According to whom?” Brian cuts in. Lindsay falls silent. “Marvelous Melanie? Neither of you were there, remember? I was.”

“And yet you won’t elaborate on what you talked about.”

“Would you trust me if I did? Would he?”

Brian has her there, and he knows Lindsay knows it. He also knows it kills her that she wasn’t in close proximity to their son last night. And maybe Brian would’ve let her think once that he didn’t care, but the funny thing was that he hasn’t changed all that much. He always cared, but only let it manifest in specific ways. Only let it show in what he didn’t say.

Until just about everything that he cared about was nearly blown sky high.

“Was that it?” Brian asks, referring to the reason why she wanted to talk to him.

“No,” Lindsay replies, crossing her arms. “But you know that, too.”

She always did match him for every stride. He cracks a smile and waits for her to continue.

“You were wrong. What you said that day in Kinnetik.”

“I say so many things,” Brian says, with a dramatic air.

“It is okay to like pussy and cock. At the same time,” Lindsay states.

There is no doubt in her voice. Brian watches her for a beat.

“I told you what you needed to hear.”

“Bullshit,” Lindsay laughs in disbelief. Brian shrugs.

“Well, what the fuck else do you expect me to say?” Brian asks, rolling his eyes.

“The truth would be refreshing.”

Brian purses his lips. He nods after a long, drawn-out moment.

“I told you what you wanted to hear.”

A contemplative look falls over Lindsay’s face, but she doesn’t argue with him.

“It didn’t occur to me until Gus told us off that there was a lot I haven’t forgiven myself for or tried to reconcile,” Lindsay says. “Things that I don’t need to forgive myself for, cheating aside.”

“I guess even College Boy can teach the old folks a thing or two,” Brian shrugs.

Lindsay tilts her head and gives him a peculiar smile.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you willingly and unironically refer to yourself as old.”

Brian suddenly looks bewildered.

“Who’s referring to me?” he asks. “I was talking about you and Melanie.

“Oh, fuck you!”

***

Gus’ goodbyes – or, as he promises Laurel, see-you-laters – go as expected.

He hugs his little sister tight and promises that they will FaceTime soon. Next, he claps Justin’s hand that leads into a hug. Justin wishes them a safe trip, and says they’ll coordinate a time to come up and visit him.

Not much is exchanged in the way of words between father and son, but Brian pulls him in for a hug without any sarcastic quips or wisecracks. It is only when his family enters the third hour of their road trip that Gus reaches absentmindedly into his leather jacket and extracts a sleeve of condoms that were not there before. He barely refrains from laughing out loud, which results in him making a funny face that has J.R. questioning his sanity.

They are now at a rest stop and Gus offers to drive for the remainder of the trip. It takes some persuading, but he can see how tired his moms are and they’re only about 30 miles from their exit. They would have reached home sooner if it weren’t for J.R.’s pea-sized bladder.

Lindsay is up front riding in the passenger seat as Mel and J.R. sleep in the back.

“I’ve always wished that I could pass out in a moving car,” Lindsay says, looking back at them with a fond smile.

“It’s easy. If you’re bored enough,” Gus replies. “That’s why driving is better.”

“If you say so,” she chuckles. “I’m surprised you’re not feeling too hungover.”

Gus glances at her before returning his eyes to the road. He hears her scoff.

“Please,” Lindsay sneers, though with no real malice. “Who do you think smoked their way through college with him?”

“Seriously?” Gus says, unable to hide his amused disbelief.

“To stay between us.” Gus does laugh that time. “We’re not all dinosaurs. Even if it feels that way sometimes.”

Gus’ smile fades. Lindsay must notice, because now he hears her sigh.

“I’m glad you told us. Even if I’m sorry about the way it happened.”

“You are?” Gus confirms, referring mostly to the first part.

“I am. It made me confront a lot of things about myself. Some of which I don’t mind sharing with you now or in the future.”

“Only some?” Gus challenges. “Shouldn’t transparency work both ways?”

“Hardly,” Lindsay says, breezily. “I love you in this life and the next, but we’re not equals.” Gus frowns, which makes her chuckle. “Don’t look so disappointed. Your father already treats you too much like a friend.”

“He told me about his parents,” Gus remembers.

“Did he?” Lindsay says, surprised. “How did that come up?”

“It wasn’t a parable. He assured me.” Lindsay laughs. “I asked, he answered. Mostly. He has limits.” Lindsay sits in silent reflection. “Did you know them?”

“Not well,” Lindsay says. “I met them, and he met mine when they visited me in college.”

“What, were you each other’s beards?”

“Watch it,” Lindsay warns, and Gus raises a hand in apology. “We let them assume, but your father has never pretended to be anything other than what he is. He’s the first to say it’s not lying if –”

“They make you lie,” Gus finishes. “If the only truth they’ll accept is their own. I remember.”

“Apparently so,” Lindsay says, quietly. “Is that how you felt?”

Gus doesn’t respond at first. Not because he isn’t sure of his answer. Because he’s unsure whether he is willing to unpack it.

“I don’t care what people think about me,” Gus replies. “Most of the time.”

The unless it’s someone I love goes without saying. Lindsay doesn’t seem to require any further elaboration from him, which he appreciates.

“I do,” Lindsay admits. “When I was your age, in particular, I needed people to like me so much. It could make me sick.”

“What about now?”

“Not as badly,” Lindsay says. “Mama helps me with it. Anyway, I’ve had to face harder realities.” She pauses. “Including liking myself.”

Gus’ heart beats a little faster. His face evidently reveals his inner turmoil.

“I hate that any part of that makes you sad,” Lindsay says, gently. “Do you want to pull over?”

Gus shakes his head and clears his throat. The last thing he wants is for it to break on him.

“I’m fine,” Gus assures her.

“You inspire me. Did you know that?” Lindsay says. “Not only because of yesterday. And God knows Mama and I are not at all finished talking with you about sneaking out.”

“Why else?” Gus asks, choosing wisely to move past her less-than-thrilling assurance.

“You meet yourself where you are. You don’t – at least you don’t appear to – have expectations for yourself that hold you back more than they push you forward. It’s admirable.”

“Thank you,” Gus says, his voice lower than usual. “I won’t lie and say it’s easy.”

“Few things in life are,” Lindsay says. “I’ve found what counts most is being easy on ourselves.”

“Which I hope to do more of going forward,” she continues. “I have spent too long putting myself into boxes. It’s time to allow myself to sit on the top shelf.”

“Jesus,” Gus laughs. “Are you sure Dad’s the ad exec? You should be the one writing the copy.”

Lindsay rolls her eyes. They both stare at the open road ahead of them. It’s a companionable silence that neither of them feels compelled to break.

They aren’t equals. Gus might not accept that now, but he suspects he will when he’s older. His other sneaking suspicion is that they are more alike than he previously realized.

The thought brings him some comfort.