<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>Austin Callum Crawford</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">What’s mine is yours…<br/>Tagging Tray or Others ;)</span></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i786.photobucket.com/albums/yy145/alxnjsh/characters/48b2ac9a02f0b-2.jpg?t=1327456356)</div><br/>Austin caught himself from leaning into Tray’s squeeze, needing the touch to remove tension he carried. “Nah, I don’t mind. What’s mine is yo...” Austin’s comment disappeared as he watched Tray grab his beer and begin to down it. “Dude, not the beer.” Austin snickered as he shook his head and motioned for the bartender to bring another one.<br/><br/>Money didn’t mean that much to Austin, he didn’t have a lot but didn’t need a lot. It was technically just him, though more and more he found Tray in the mix. He made a fair salary as a cop and it kept him satisfied and Tray didn’t have a lot of needs. Finding Tray crashing on his sofa, wearing his clothes, or snatching his beer did often make Austin wonder why all these other relatives lived up in some big house and Tray was left to scrounge on his own.<br/><br/>Regardless, Austin wasn’t materialistic and didn’t own much. He had a small loft condo. It wasn’t anything huge, but it suited him. Industrial, clean, sparse. He had his car and he had a bike. A motorcycle bike. He didn’t need much else other than food and the occasional beer.<br/><br/>“My jacket’s a little big for you. You gotta put some bulk on if ya want to net some chicks.” Austin had Tray’s weight beat by a good 40 pounds, but Tray had a little height on Austin. It worked out in the end.<br/><br/>Austin’s third beer was delivered and he grabbed it before Tray’s fingers could reach it. “Private?” Austin’s right eyebrow cocked again. “You aren’t gonna tell me you’ve got cancer or something?” He returned a serious look to Tray. Before he got an answer Austin looked over Tray’s shoulder and he motioned to an empty booth. He gave up the bar stool and escorted Tray over to the more private area and sat down.<br/><br/>“What’s on your mind kid?” Austin asked as he took a swig of beer to prepare for the news.<br/>