A/N: This is a sequel to "A Haunting We Will Go," but can probably be read alone. I will post chapters regularly until it is complete. Hope you enjoy it!

QAF and its characters are the sole property of Cowlip Productions and Showtime. NO copyright infringement is intended. Thank you to my beta, boriqua522.;)

The boys have returned from their trip, rested and relaxed. Things have finally returned to normal...or have they?

Brian's POV

I heard Justin let out what sounded like almost a sigh of disappointment as we pulled up to our home, having spent the past week banishing our demons - ghostly or otherwise - while we spent a glorious week in the backwoods of West Virginia, whitewater rafting, taking leisurely walks to admire the kaleidoscope of fall colors, fucking in the luxury cabin's Jacuzzi, fucking in the monstrously large shower, fucking on top of the plush, oval rug in front of a roaring fireplace, and fucking in the king-sized bed. Did I mention that we did a lot of fucking while we were gone?

Thankfully, our brief trip had served its purpose: Justin had seemed much more relaxed and carefree; at least he had until now. I glanced over at him, noticing he seemed to be tensing up again. "Justin..." I pressed. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He responded as he bit his lower lip, a sure sign of nervousness on the part of my favorite worrywart.

"Tell me you are not going to get all stressed out again." It had taken him a few days - and an analytical, thorough search of our cabin from top to bottom on my part - before he had totally settled down after deciding that Britin was haunted a week earlier. And now, as soon as we were home, it seemed to be starting up all over again, even though he knew the 'ghosts' had only been some very ingenuous raccoons that had infiltrated his upstairs studio. At least that's what I had led him to believe. I still was a little 'spooked' myself over that last night we had spent here at the house when that ghostly vision had appeared in our bedroom as Justin slept, totally oblivious.

Everything seemed just fine until we had retired back to bed and an ethereal-looking visitor had decided to come a-calling, a la Jacob Marley style. Maybe it was the fact that my partner had been freaking out earlier, maybe it was just the season for it, or maybe it was just that big, cavernous house; but at the time the guy sure looked real enough; at least as real as you can look when you're a ghost floating two feet off the ground, carrying a lantern in your hand. I'm sure I had to have imagined the whole, damn thing, right down to the authentic period garments he was wearing and the flickering of the candle's shadows on our bedroom walls as he swung the lantern back and forth and winked at me with a smile. Yes, that was it. It had been just a total figment of my very fertile, creative imagination. After all, I WAS the best-damned advertising man on the planet, so it made common sense that I would conjure him up. Didn't it? In either case, I certainly wasn't going to let Justin know what I had 'imagined.'

"I'm fine," my partner insisted as I pressed the remote-control button to open the garage door, waiting a few seconds before I pulled inside and stopped the car to turn it off. I turned to look at him, receiving a glare when I shook my head in amusement. "I don't have memory impairment, Brian; I remember it was raccoons."

"Well?" I prodded as I opened the car door and he remained sitting there, fixed in place.

"Well, what?"

"Are you getting out?"

He huffed. "Of course I'm getting out!" I sighed as he opened up his car door and joined me in the garage, walking around the side of the car to retrieve his overstuffed tote bag and art portfolio from the back of the vehicle and handing me my own bag. He looked at me as he instructed, "You go first in case we've been overrun by the vermin infestation."

I snorted as I turned and headed over to the interior door leading into the house. As I opened it, I briefly thought I was doing a soft-shoe imitation as my feet slid a little on the salt still sprinkled on the floor. I felt Justin's hand on my shoulder as we entered, finding the house much like it normally was: quiet, except for the soft whirring and ticking of our top-of-the-line kitchen appliances and the clock over the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. Nothing seemed out of place or remiss. "Well, at least Casper and his friends didn't throw any wild parties while we were gone, apparently," I snarked as I walked further inside and placed my bag down on one of our kitchen bar stools.

Justin rolled his eyes as he placed his art portfolio and bag down on the floor and headed over to the kitchen pantry, returning a few seconds later with the broom and dustpan. "Enough, Brian," he scolded me. "I said I was fine. I know what it was now, and I'm over it, okay? Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

I rolled my tongue into my cheek as he bent over to sweep up the salt from beside the door. I couldn't help admiring the view as I told him, "Well, it was fun while it lasted. I kind of liked the clinginess." Especially in bed; a warm, soft octopus plastered against my body was kind of hot, I had to admit.

My sexy house frau turned around then to glare over at me. "I am not clingy," he insisted, even though both of us knew better. Justin was normally one of the most courageous, brave, and independent men that I knew; but during that whole 'haunted' episode, he wouldn't leave my side. I was going to kind of miss having to be his defender; well, I suppose I would never stop doing that. I just didn't want him to think I thought of it that way, however.

He dumped the contents of the salt into the stainless steel garbage can nearby before replacing the items back into the pantry. Rubbing his palms together to remove any last salty residual, he picked up his art portfolio and bag as he walked over to me. "I'm going to go take these upstairs," he told me.

I bit my tongue before I managed to put my foot in my mouth and ask him if he wanted me to go with him as he kissed my lips briefly before heading down the hall toward the steps. Just before he started to ascend the staircase, he turned to look at me. "You coming?" he asked in a sexy tone of voice. "I'll show you clingy."

Grinning, with alacrity I snatched my bag from the stool before rushing to catch up with him.

Thirty Minutes Later...

I grinned down at my lover, flushed and sweaty in the throes of his passion. There was nothing more beautiful or alluring than Justin all aroused and thrumming with desire just before I fucked the living daylights out of him, I decided, as I reached over to slide open the nightstand drawer to retrieve a condom. My hand came up unexpectedly empty, however, as I scowled. Reaching deeper into the drawer, my fingers splayed out onto the entire bottom of the wood, but I found nothing; the narrow drawer - our sex drawer, where we always kept our box of extra-large sized condoms and an industrial-sized bottle of expensive lubricant - contained nothing but air. "Justin!" I growled, my body aching for release; the sweet release that only my partner could give me.

"What?" he panted out, his chest heaving as he stroked himself in anticipation. "Come on, Brian, fuck me already!"

"Wish I could oblige you," I muttered as I turned over and promptly flopped down on the bed. "No condoms," I reported in defeat, wondering for just a moment if I could abandon my 'I want you safe' mantra and just fuck Justin raw. Not that I didn't constantly fantasize about that - in fact, that vision wasn't helping me at all at the moment, only making me hornier - but I knew deep down I wouldn't risk that with him.

"What!?" Justin cried out. "There should an entire box in there! I just bought some before we left! Look again!"

"I did!" I growled. "See for yourself; nothing, no lube, no condoms, nothing."

Justin rolled over to twist his body around enough so he could reach inside the drawer. Obtaining the same results, he huffed in frustrated disbelief. "Come on, Brian; what did you do with them?"

"I used them to fuck an army platoon that stopped by for directions. What do you mean, what did I do with them? The last time I saw them, they were sitting in the drawer, right where they always are!"

Justin flopped down onto his back in disgust, his entire body craving release; the kind of release that I knew only I could provide for him. "I don't believe this! Aaargh! How can this be happening?"

"Maybe the raccoons needed nesting material."

"That isn't funny!" Justin shuddered; just the thought of those beady-eyed, nasty animals invading our home and being anywhere near our bedroom had to be making his skin crawl, no doubt; we already knew how crafty they could be with their hands. "Shit! You don't think they're..."

"Relax," I told him. "I had all the nooks and crannies boarded up and sealed before we left, remember? The contractor assured me there's no way they could possibly get back in here again, even through the trap door." Just before we left on vacation, we had discovered a small, built-in door cleverly hidden in a bookshelf up in Justin's attic studio; that had been how the bandits had been able to access the room and practically scare the shit out of my partner until we caught them red-handed one night.

"Well, they didn't just get up and walk out on their own. So you tell ME where they went, Stud."

"How the hell do I know?" I groused. "I told you."

"Brian, this had better not be your idea of a practical joke," Justin growled. He turned his head to peer over at me, longing written all over his face and his cock hard as a rock, just like mine. He looked over at me hopefully. "Brian, you know we could..."

"Justin," I spoke gently to him but firmly. "You know how I feel about that. I won't risk your..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbled with a sigh. "Well, now that you have me all hot and bothered, at least suck me off."

"How about me?" I grumbled, my dick painfully reminding me that we both were suffering from that affliction. "You go first."

"Oh, right," he snarked. "Age before beauty."

I scowled at him as he rolled over and landed on top of my lower body, his head exactly where I needed it to be as he nestled it in my pubes. I was about to retort with some snappy comeback (even though I hadn't actually thought of one yet) when I soon felt Justin's wet, hot lips encasing my cock, and my rebuttal promptly died on my lips. I arched my hips upward to push in deeper as he fondled my balls with one hand and grasped the base on my dick with the other, his longer hair tickling my skin as he expertly set to work.

It didn't take long for me to shoot my load down his throat; of course, that was nothing unusual when Justin was involved. I returned the favor as we - yes, I'll admit it silently - snuggled up together a few minutes later, not exactly satisfied but at least placated.

"Get some sleep, Sunshine," I murmured as I wrapped my arm around his slender waist. "I'll go out and buy a warehouse supply of condoms tomorrow." Silently I thought that perhaps - one day - we wouldn't need any at all.

"You'd better," he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed, mine soon following.