"Is that it?"

Blaine shoved the last of the lawn chairs inside the crowded garage and, with a grunt, forced the heavy door closed. Every toy, every plant, every chair, everything not tied down was inside the two-car garage, and if Trent came at him with one more item . . . well, too bad, so sad. Whatever it was would have to take its chances with the approaching storm.

Glancing over his shoulder, he examined the darkening skies. Hurricane Gustav had made landfall earlier that morning and was heading in their direction. The electricity had already been knocked out, and it was still at least an hour before the storm arrived in their neck of the woods.

"So much for watching ‘CSI:NY’ again."

A branch from a nearby tree fell to the ground and, driven by the wind, tumbled in his direction. Gustav had come ashore as a category 2 storm, and normally they wouldn’t have worried that much about it. Walker, Louisiana was roughly 100 miles from the coast, and most storms, instead of maintaining their strength, weakened as they traveled over land. By the time such a hurricane reached their area, it would be downgraded to a category 1 or even a tropical storm. Rotten limbs and old signs would hit the ground, some roofing shingles blow off, maybe even a tree or two fall and block a road or driveway. Electricity would, without a doubt, go out, but that would be about the extent of the damage. Nothing to worry about.

Wrong.

Hurricanes Katrina and Rita had dramatically changed how every Gulf Coast resident responded to the threat of bad weather. Nothing was left to chance. No warning ignored. Not to mention, this year was the third anniversary of Katrina -- everyone and their mother were heeding the warnings of damaging high winds and heavy rainfall handed out by their local meteorologist, Jay Grimes.

"If Jay says it’s gonna be bad, then it’s gonna be bad," Blaine muttered.

Redirecting his gaze to the boy walking toward him, he took a brief moment to enjoy the way the wind was plastering Trent’s thin t-shirt to his chest. The soft cotton clung not only to his nipple piercings but also to every muscle of his upper torso and, once again, Blaine was caught by surprise at how much Trent had changed physically in the last year.

"What happened to that scrawny, snot-nosed kid that used to follow me around?"

Hard-as-steel arms slid around his waist and pulled him tight against an unyielding broad chest.

"That kid grew up, fell in love and hopefully, if this storm doesn’t cause too much havoc, will be nailing his boyfriend’s ass to the mattress in the very near future."

Chuckling, Blaine bumped his butt against the hardening contours of Trent’s groin. "Is fucking all you think about?"

Warm lips nuzzled the nape of his neck before moving down and marking his bare shoulder with a hickey.

"No, I think about food and cars, too," Trent answered with a mock growl of hunger.

Blaine was spun around and soundly kissed.

"Sex, food and cars. And not always in that order." Trent shook a finger at Blaine. "You know I could just ignore that boner of yours and go make a sandwich. Someone, and I’m not naming any names, but a certain someone didn’t get any breakfast this morning because a certain *other* someone didn’t wake him in time."

Blaine readjusted his dick. If there was one thing his family didn’t need right now, it was him and Trent acting on their hormones in front of all the neighbors.

"I did wake you up, if you remember." He frowned. "And if you don’t remember, then I’m obviously doing something wrong."

Blaine couldn’t help but grin at the blush spreading across Trent’s face. He’d woken his boyfriend with a surprise round of rimming that had nearly brought the roof down upon them thanks to some very appreciative screams. Trent may hate the actual act of rimming another but that didn’t stop him from howling his head off when it was done to him. He loved it to the max, much to his embarrassment, and Blaine could only hope he would overcome his abhorrence and return the favor one day.

Licking his lips, he continued, "And the reason you didn’t get any breakfast was because you fell back asleep after I left. Dad ain’t Mom. You eat what he cooks *when* he cooks. And if you’re not there, then tough luck. You’re on your own."

The mention of his missing mother brought back all the pain and anger, and he turned away in an attempt to hide his anguish.

"Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me."

Those same strong arms again eased around his waist, and this time Blaine held onto them for dear life. Damn the neighbors. He needed this, he needed Trent.

"Have you seen your Mom lately?" his boyfriend inquired. "What about your sisters? Angel emails me every now and then. Have you talked to her or to Suzanne? What about Elizabeth Anne? How’s my favorite munchkin?"

Blaine rested his head on Trent’s shoulder. His mom and his sisters were living with Grandpa Carl and Grandma Alice in Lafayette. He made the hour and a half long trip every other weekend, and Angel, now that she had a car, chauffeured their two younger sisters to Walker on the opposite weekends. It was both physically and financially draining but more so for Angel than for himself. She had recently applied to the nursing school at the University of Lafayette and was working two jobs in order to have enough money for tuition.

Making a note to slip his sister an extra twenty or two next time she came down, Blaine answered, "Everybody’s okay. Well, okay as okay can be considering. I drove up there last Friday. Mom was out running errands but the girls were there. I took ‘em all to ‘Wendy’s’ for dinner." He reached back with his right hand and tangled it Trent’s thick hair. "Can’t believe I’m saying this but, God, I miss them. I miss their insane chatter, the way they bugged me about everything under the sun. I even miss the way they spied on the two of us."

A stray gust of wind blew a speck of dirt into his eye, and the resulting sting reminded him of their current task. "Come on. Standing here crying over spilt milk is not going to get this yard picked up. Was there anything else we needed to tie down or store inside? Not that I think there’s any more room in the garage."

He was on his way back to the house when Trent caught his arm and stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Your parents upcoming divorce is *not* spilt milk," he vehemently insisted. "And you can cry over it as often and as long as you like with me. I love you, Budman. Your pain is my pain. Don’t go all Dean Winchester on me. Talk to me. Let me help you through this, okay?"

Blaine hauled Trent close for another hug and kiss. Boy, were the neighbors getting an eyeful today. "Let’s finish up what we’re doing and then we’ll talk. It’s only the four of us, and I’m pretty sure Dad and Dan will be glued to the radio, listening for updates on the storm."

Trent pinned him with a fierce gaze. "I’m holding you to that. Besides, I’ve got something of my own I need to talk to you about."

His curiosity was instantly aroused. "Oh, yeah? What is it? Are you reconsidering enrolling at LSU this coming fall?" Blaine followed after Trent, halting him at the foot of the ladder leading up to their treehouse. "Don’t tell me you’re going out on the road again. Damn it, you just got back from Phoenix last week. Don’t tell me---"

"Yeah, and who just got back from Omaha?" Trent interrupted.

"Okay, you’re right," Blaine begrudgingly agreed, "but baseball season’s over. NASCAR season is year round almost. When in the hell are we ever gonna find the time to hang out together."

"You’re shitting me, right?" Trent exclaimed. "Baseball is never over for you, Blaine. If there’s not a game somewhere, there’s practice. If it’s not practice, it’s training. You live baseball 24/7."

Blaine started to defend himself but was silenced by an unfamiliar glare of resentment.

Swearing under his breath, Trent shoved back the NASCAR cap he wore. "Jesus Christ, Blaine, I know I’m gone a lot, but it’s my job. I’m not some prima donna pitcher whose future is bought and paid for by the Almighty Purple and Gold. I have to work for a living, whether you like it or not."

And there within lie the problem, Blaine thought. Not only had his mother abandoned him, but Trent had also, to a certain extent. And yes he understood, *totally* understood the reason behind the defection, but that didn’t stop the pain that crippled his heart every time he stopped by his boyfriend’s house and found it empty.

Blaine squared his shoulders and glared right back. "I’m gonna ignore the ‘prima donna’ crack, okay? And yeah, I know you have to work. But do you have to travel all the time? It’s not like you’re Kenney Bueche’s one and only mechanic. Can’t you stay home and let the other guys go out on the road?"

He held up a hand and halted the answering tirade. "Don’t you get it? I miss you. I miss you like hell when you’re not here. And nowadays you’re more not here than here. It’s hard, okay? First Mom, then you. It’s like everybody is . . . oomph!"

Blaine stumbled backward when hit by a solid wall of muscle.

"You shit for brains," Trent growled. "I am *not* your mother. I am *not* walking out on you like she did with you and your dad."

Blaine found himself pinned to the trunk of the tree, his mouth brutally ravished by demanding kisses.

"I love you," Trent muttered between kisses. "Will always love you. Will never leave you. No matter what." He transferred his hands to Blaine’s shoulders and shook him hard. "Damn it, Budman, I’m wearing your brand on my arm and your ring on my finger. What else can I do to make you believe I’m yours until my dying day?"

Blaine widened his stance and groaned when Trent instinctively moved closer. "I know, I know. And I’m sorry I’m acting the wuss. This divorce thing is hitting me harder than I expected, and not having you here 24/7 only makes it worse."

The slamming of the back porch door broke them apart.

"Boys?" Sean called.

Blaine saw Trent glance at him out of the corner of his eye as they turned and walked toward the house. "We’re not finished with this," his boyfriend insisted. "Not by a long shot."

Blaine acknowledged him with a nod. "I know. And we’ll talk. I promise."

Avoiding his father’s gaze, Blaine climbed the stairs ahead of Trent. "Except for the stuff in the treehouse, everything else has been taken care of.

"Good."

He sidestepped the hand aiming for his shoulder. "Is there anything else we need to do? What about fuel for the generator? Do we have enough? Do I need to make a quick run to the gas station?"

A look of disappointment flashed across his father’s face. Blaine ignored it.

"We’re good," Sean answered. "But speaking of generators, your mom’s coming to get the extra one we brought back from the hunting camp. Alice and Carl don’t have a generator, and I said they could borrow one of ours." Sean glanced over his shoulder and relinquished a pained smile to the man exiting the kitchen. "She and the girls will be here in a second. Suzanne just called."

Blaine watched covertly as Dan took his place next to his dad. The two men didn’t touch but the love they had for each other was evident in the very way they invaded each other’s personal space. A blind man could have seen it.

Trent tugged on his hand, and without a word he obeyed the unspoken request and sat next to him on the steps. Behind them he could hear his father and Dan move to the porch swing. Frowning he ripped off a leaf from the azalea bush his mom had planted next to the steps and proceeded to shred it to pieces.

The azalea bush, the house, the property would soon be owned by none other than Dan. He had stepped forward with a generous offer when the decision was made by his parents to sell the house and divide the profits. He and Sean would continue to live in the house with the understanding that all of his lover’s children were welcome to stay with them as long as they wanted.

Blaine had elected to stay until the fall semester. At that point, he’d be living on campus and probably would only come home on the weekends his sisters visited his dad.

Glancing down the driveway, he searched for his mother’s SUV. Trent distracted him by engaging Dan in conversation.

"I read on the web that the Shaw Museum will be hosting a display of Ashton Walker’s work," he informed the older man. "Have you heard from your friend lately?"

Blaine stared at Trent like he’d lost his mind. Ashton Walker was the person Dan had turned to for comfort after Sean’s decision to resume dating women. The famous artist had not only entered into a relationship with Dan but had kept him from committing suicide. The mere mention of the man’s name was a brutal reminder to his dad regarding the grief Dan had suffered following his departure.

Sean’s predictable reaction, an indrawn hiss of pain, was silenced and when Blaine turned to see why, he saw Dan reassuring him with an extremely passionate kiss. It angered him to no end.

Yeah, he thought. Hurts like hell to think about old Dan eating a bullet. Why doesn’t it hurt that bad when you think about losing your wife and daughters? And it should hurt, you bastard. Should rip your fucking heart out.

"Speaking of Ashton Walker . . . ." He pinned his father with a hate-filled glare. "What exactly made you turn your back on Dan all those years ago? Was it too much for you? Being a fag, fucking a fag? You loved him with all your heart, right? Pledged to be faithful, to love him forever? Or was that all a lie? Was that how it was with Mom? Too much for you to commit to being straight, to love just one person, to love a woman? Did you lie to Mom, too?"

"Blaine!"

"Budman!"

"That’s enough, son. You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Blaine turned his hatred on Dan. "I know exactly what I’m talking about. Everything was fine before you showed up. Our family was solid before you forced yourself into it." He pointed a finger at his godfather. "Couldn’t you have just fucked him and gone back to California like you used to? Did you have to stay this time and ruin everything?"

Blaine was down the steps and halfway to the treehouse when a recognizable SUV drove down the driveway. He immediately changed direction and grabbed his mother up for a bone-crushing hug the instant she slid out of the vehicle.

Ignoring the questions thrown at him by his sisters, he buried his face in his mom’s vanilla scented hair. "I don’t give a shit what Dad wants. I’m not living here another minute. If I can’t come with you, I’m moving in with Trent."

Blaine allowed his mother to take his arm and guide him toward the house.

"I have no idea what’s going on," Allanah admitted, "but I’m certainly going to find out. Sean?"

Blaine took major comfort in the way Trent moved to his side and blocked his father from reaching for him. The three of them entered the house, followed by Sean, a bewildered looking Angel and a scowling Suzanne.

Good, Blaine thought. Let’s get it all out, get it out into the open and stop this fucking nonsense.

+++++++

The wind outside was howling like a crazed banshee, and Blaine watched as limb after limb came crashing down. The yard was littered with tree and roof debris, along with the scattered remains of what was once their treehouse. It had bit the dust an hour after his mom and sisters arrived. The demise of one of his most cherished hideouts was painful, and he could only wonder what else he would lose that day.

Trent mumbled in his sleep before snuggling closer. Upon entering the house the two of them had taken command of the padded bench that ran alongside the breakfast nook and had remained there long after his parents stormed out of the kitchen. Trent had fallen asleep despite the continued shouting inside and the fury raging outside.

Blaine yawned. He was mentally exhausted from fighting with his dad for the past two hours. Sean was adamant he remain at home with him and Dan while his mother insisted it was his decision to leave if he so wish to do so. Unfortunately his request to live with his grandparents until the semester started was not an option. There simply wasn’t enough room for all of them.

Trent had immediately stepped up to the plate and offered him a place to stay. Of course it meant sharing a room but that was more an incentive than a deterrent.

Blaine pressed his lips to Trent’s forehead. "It’ll almost be like living together for real. Like we were married. In fact, I don’t know why we didn’t think of doing this earlier. It sure would have saved some major headaches." Trent hummed as if in agreement, thus earning himself another kiss.

Looking out the nearest window he was surprised to see Dan still sitting on the swing. The older man look totally defeated, and Blaine felt a twinge of guilt. He knew Dan had offered to move out, had even suggested returning to California. It was his dad who’d insisted he stay put, and in all honesty he couldn’t blame Dan for doing just that. The man had lost Sean once and who in their right mind would put themselves through that kind of pain again.

"Yeah, ‘cause this time there might not *be* an ‘Ashton Walker’ to pull you back from the edge," Blaine whispered.

"Hey."

Blaine carefully shifted to the side and made room for his sister.

Glancing at Trent, Angel chuckled. "That boy can sleep through anything."

"He hasn’t been getting too much rest lately," Blaine admitted. He then blushed when he realized what he’d said. "I mean, he’s been working---"

Angel snorted. "Working hard at fucking you senseless?"

Grinning slightly, Blaine bumped shoulders with his sister. "Yeah, something like that."

"Good. Glad to know somebody’s happy."

His grin died a quick death. "You’re with Mom. Any hope of a reconciliation?"

Angel glanced over her shoulder and listened for a moment to the conversation taking place in the living room. "I’m not sure. Sometimes I think, yeah, and then . . . ." She sighed. "You know Mom never really got over Richard’s death, and this thing with Uncle Dan, you posing nude, Trent’s story, not to mention I think she’s starting menopause way too early." Angel caught a strand of hair and wrapped it around a finger. "Personally, it’s a wonder she hasn’t gone totally nuts. I know I would."

Blaine loosened the hold Trent had on his hand. Wrapping that arm around his sister’s drooping shoulders, he hugged her close. "Like I told Trent before, this whole thing reads like a fucking soap opera. We’ve got it all. A past lover come back to destroy the happy couple. A gay son and his gay boyfriend bravely flaunting their perverted love for all the world to see. A mother haunted by a child’s death. Two conniving sisters determined to drive said gay brother insane."

"Hey, that’s two gorgeously sexy conniving sisters."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY? YOU’RE WHAT?"

Both of them jumped to their feet upon hearing their father’s shout of disbelief. Totally forgotten, Trent slid to the floor and protested grumpily when his head hit the wall.

"What the fuck?"

Torn between following after Angel and assisting his annoyed boyfriend to his feet, Blaine instead took a moment to look out the window. He was absolutely stunned by what he saw.

His and Trent’s favorite tree was toppling over like a dead giant, and they, along with Dan, were in its direct path.

"Move, Trent! MOVE!"