"Coup de Foudre" 28
Another Sunday dinner.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2016
“I ordered a pizza,” said Justin. “Sausage with green pepper and onion.”
Brian was coming out of the shower, drying his hair. “There’s a flashback for you. Fucking, shower, pizza. What could be better for a boring Sunday?”
“I ordered the pizza from Angelo’s, too, if you really want a blast from the past.” Justin took the towel from Brian’s hands. “Here, let me do that.”
Brian closed his eyes as Justin rubbed the towel up and down his long body. “Angelo’s? Is that place still around?”
“Of course. It’s still the best pizza in this part of town.”
“You’ve taken a lot of liberties with that ordering, twat,” said Brian. “What if I’ve become a dedicated vegan since I moved to Los Angeles and won’t eat anything with a face?”
Justin raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You ate something with a face about 30 minutes ago. And so did I. You might have changed in California, but you haven’t changed that much. I can’t imagine a Brian Kinney who wouldn’t be tempted by a rare, juicy Porterhouse steak. Or a sausage pizza.” Justin turned around and dropped his towel. “Or a nice, firm piece of ass.”
“You’re awfully cheeky today.”
Justin grinned. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’d rather eat your ass,” said Brian. “Not to mention the pizza. Better than dinner at Deb’s, choking down another of her fat-laden casseroles.”
“Come on! Deb is a good cook!” Justin insisted. “I used to love her food - her lasagna, her puttanesca, her ravioli. Yes, she’s a little heavy on the garlic and tomato sauce, but that’s what Italian food is all about - tomato sauce, pasta, and lots of garlic. Now I’m really hungry for that pizza.”
“And I’m sure you’ll eat most of it,” said Brian. He ran his hands over Justin ample cheeks. “There seems to be more bubble butt here than I remember. You better be careful or you’ll need an extra membership at RIPT.”
“Fuck the gym,” Justin snorted, hanging up the towels on the rack. “I don’t need it. Yet.”
“So you say.” Brian pulled on his dark blue silk robe and tied the sash. “This open invitation to Deb’s family dinners apparently signals that I’ve officially been welcomed back into the fold. And so has Gus. I think that’s a good thing. He doesn’t have much family to fall back on - the Kinneys are worthless and the Petersons not far behind. He could do worse than Debbie and Carl as surrogate Grandma and Gramps. God knows Deb is desperate for a grandchild to spoil the shit out of.”
“What’s the story with Melanie and J.R.? Does Michael ever hear from them?” Justin asked.
Brian shrugged. “Occasionally. He told me that he’s tried to work out some kind of arrangement with Mel for the kid to come up and visit, but it’s pretty sporadic. And you know Deb wouldn’t be happy with anything less than the spawn of Mel and Michael moving into Michael’s room full-time until she’s forty or until Deb croaks, whichever comes first.”
“That’s really sad. But it’s nice that Gus is there.” Justin paused, feeling more than a little guilty. “You probably should be there, too. It is Sunday.”
“I don’t see you there,” Brian pointed out.
“It’s not my thing,” said Justin. This was an uncomfortable area. “Deb used to invite me when I first came back to the Pitts, but it felt weird. Michael wasn’t exactly welcoming.”
“Ah, Michael,” said Brian. “The self-appointed guardian of my reputation. Just ignore him.”
“That’s easier said than done, Brian,” Justin said. “You didn’t have to sit there while he glared at you. And that kid - that Hunter - he’d glare at me, too! Ben was always okay, and Debbie and Carl, but how can I eat when Michael and the kid are giving me the fucking Evil Eye?”
“Fuck ’em. Don’t let anyone scare you away.”
Justin shrugged. “Yeah, well, I just stopped going. It was easier.”
Brian looked at him pointedly. “And Sunshine always takes the easy way? That doesn’t sound like the plucky little fag with a cheerful smile on his face and a song in his queer little heart whose brains I used to fuck into oblivion.”
“It wasn’t taking the easy way out,” Justin insisted. “It was knowing when to let go. Knowing when it was time to move on. I was no longer part of the family. It was as simple as that.”
“Family,” said Brian. “That poisonous word. So, what about family? Then how come you’re not chowing down with your mom and sister today.”
“And my so-called step-father.” Justin curled his lip. He didn’t mind Jennifer’s husband, Brad, but he wasn’t crazy about him, either. “Believe me, I’ve had enough family dinners with them to last me for a long, long time.”
“Is that what you told your boyfriend?” Brian inquired. “That you’ve had enough of the family dinners?”
Justin winced. “Not exactly. But Robbie was working this afternoon anyway.”
“Sneaking around on your significant other is never a good idea, Sunshine.” Brian took hold of Justin’s cock to underline his intent.
But Justin pulled away. “Fuck you, Brian.”
“That’s already a moot point.” Brian went to the fridge and took out two beers. “Is Old Pitt satisfactory? Since they’re clients, I get plenty of this swill for free.”
“It’s fine.” Justin plopped down on the sofa. Brian settled next to him and handed him a beer. “So how’s Gus? I mean, how is he really? What’s he like?”
“Why do you give a shit?” asked Brian. “And don’t start that bullshit about how you named him, blah blah blah, because you know that was always typical Justin Taylor hyperbole. Lindsay already had that name picked out. She told me before the brat was born. She was just trying to get it past Melanie. Abraham? Jesus Christ!”
“Yeah, he never would have survived elementary school with the name Abraham.”
“No shit!”
Justin had been trying to find a way to wrangle Gus into the conversation. Of all the things Justin was curious about, Brian’s son was at the top of the list. Justin’s memories of Gus were golden. The boy seemed to symbolize the best of what he and Brian had shared way back when. And now Gus was a teenager. He was almost the same age Justin had been when he met Brian. That freaked him out, but it also intrigued him. There were photographs of Gus in Brian’s office and another one on the table next to the bed, but looking at them only made Justin want to see the boy in the flesh even more.
“So… what does Gus like? Does he still like to draw pictures?”
“Draw pictures?” Brian frowned. “Not that I’ve ever seen. So if you thought he was going to follow in your footsteps as a great artiste, that’s a no go. Gus likes movies, video games, sports… and girls. As far as I know, he’s hasn’t gotten any pussy yet, but it’s still early for a straight boy. Of course, by the time I was 16 I could already suck the head off a nail, as they say. But Gus is a little shy, which isn’t a bad thing. He doesn’t need to do anything he’s not ready for. Right now his main obsession is getting his driver’s license. He’ll be 16 in September.”
“Yeah, I remember,” said Justin. “After all, I was there…”
“The night he was born,” Brian continued. “Yes, my long term memory hasn’t been compromised by my advanced age.”
“Old man,” whispered Justin.
“Not too old to wear you out, twat.”
“Who’s worn out?” Justin challenged.
“We’ll see after we eat the pizza.” Brian took a sip of his beer. “Jesus, this swill never gets better. But I’m trying to back off of the hard stuff.”
“I kind of noticed that,” said Justin. “The booze cart is empty.”
“Well,” said Brian. “Sometimes you need to take a break from killing yourself.”
“Is that what you were doing - killing yourself?” Justin’s tone was soft, but somber.
“I wanted to,” Brian admitted. “But… I can’t. Not now. I have responsibilities.”
Justin didn’t need to ask. “Gus.”
“Yeah,” Brian sighed. “I knew it was a fucking mistake to jerk off into that cup. I’m still dealing with the ramifications.”
“You love that kid,” Justin stated.
“You’re right. I give up,” he confessed. “I love that kid. I love my son.”
“I know you do,” said Justin. And that’s another reason I love you, Brian, he thought. You love Gus. You’ve always loved him. Don’t fight it. It’s one of the things that makes you human.
“I’m afraid for him,” Brian said. “I’m afraid that the fucking Kinney will come out one day in both of us and that will be the end of it all. We’ll destroy each other. That’s my fear. Without Ron to be there as the fucking voice of reason…”
Ron. The name was like a stab to Justin’s heart. Brian loved Ron. And Gus loved Ron. But Justin was on the outside. He’d always be on the outside. Because he hadn’t stayed. Because he hadn’t believed in Brian enough. He’d only thought about what he wanted and not about what Brian needed. What they both needed.
“You won’t fuck up,” Justin said. “I know you won’t.”
“You don’t know that, because I don’t know that,” Brian sniffed. “Fucking up is something I’m destined to do. It’s fucking genetic!”
“No!” Justin exclaimed. “It’s not genetic! It’s not inevitable. You’re not your father and you’re not your mother. You’re yourself. You… you’ve already broken your own pattern. With… with Ron.” Justin almost swallowed the name, but he soldiered on. “You loved him. You stayed with him. You had a… a life. That’s more than I’ve ever managed to do. Stick with one guy. Love one guy. Or love anyone.”
“Maybe you’re better off,” said Brian. “You go your own way and do your own fucking thing. Love is highly overrated. When it ends… it’s too fucking painful.”
Another stab in the heart. “I… I doubt I’m better off. As you said, it’s what I do. I’m screwing around on my boyfriend as we speak.”
“It is what it is,” Brian said. “No locks on your door, Sunshine.”
“Did you feel you were locked in with Ron?” Justin asked. “Is that how it was?”
“No,” Brian said softly. “That’s not how it was. But… sometimes… it wasn’t always perfect. And I, especially, wasn’t perfect. I wanted to be. Fuck knows, I tried to be. But I’m still Brian Kinney. Thank God Ron understood that. And forgave that.”
Justin leaned his head against Brian’s shoulder. “He didn’t need to forgive you for being who you were. No apologies, no excuses, no regrets, remember?”
“That was bullshit then and it’s still bullshit. My whole fucking philosophy was bullshit! But now it’s too fucking late to… to…” Brian abruptly stood up and walked to the window, peering out though the flimsy curtains. “The pizza guy is here. Too much fucking talking and not enough eating and fucking. Let’s eat the fucking pizza and then get back to the fucking.”
“Whatever you say, Brian,” Justin agreed.
The bell rang and Brian buzzed in the pizza guy. “If he’s cute, you want to invite him to join in the Sunday festivities?”
“Are you kidding?” Justin wasn’t certain. Once upon a time it was something Brian would have done without even asking.
“Yes, I’m kidding, twat! Especially if he’s anything like the guy who used to deliver for Angelo’s. He was a fucking troll and a half!
Justin breathed in relief. “I think it’s the same man. He’s about 60 now.”
Brian shuddered. “I guess I’ll have to settle for you,” he smirked.
Justin nodded. “I guess you will.”
Brian spread a futon out on the floor and they began to eat the pizza. But before they’d finished half of it, they were tangled up together and had forgotten they were ever hungry for anything but each other.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2016
“I ordered a pizza,” said Justin. “Sausage with green pepper and onion.”
Brian was coming out of the shower, drying his hair. “There’s a flashback for you. Fucking, shower, pizza. What could be better for a boring Sunday?”
“I ordered the pizza from Angelo’s, too, if you really want a blast from the past.” Justin took the towel from Brian’s hands. “Here, let me do that.”
Brian closed his eyes as Justin rubbed the towel up and down his long body. “Angelo’s? Is that place still around?”
“Of course. It’s still the best pizza in this part of town.”
“You’ve taken a lot of liberties with that ordering, twat,” said Brian. “What if I’ve become a dedicated vegan since I moved to Los Angeles and won’t eat anything with a face?”
Justin raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You ate something with a face about 30 minutes ago. And so did I. You might have changed in California, but you haven’t changed that much. I can’t imagine a Brian Kinney who wouldn’t be tempted by a rare, juicy Porterhouse steak. Or a sausage pizza.” Justin turned around and dropped his towel. “Or a nice, firm piece of ass.”
“You’re awfully cheeky today.”
Justin grinned. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’d rather eat your ass,” said Brian. “Not to mention the pizza. Better than dinner at Deb’s, choking down another of her fat-laden casseroles.”
“Come on! Deb is a good cook!” Justin insisted. “I used to love her food - her lasagna, her puttanesca, her ravioli. Yes, she’s a little heavy on the garlic and tomato sauce, but that’s what Italian food is all about - tomato sauce, pasta, and lots of garlic. Now I’m really hungry for that pizza.”
“And I’m sure you’ll eat most of it,” said Brian. He ran his hands over Justin ample cheeks. “There seems to be more bubble butt here than I remember. You better be careful or you’ll need an extra membership at RIPT.”
“Fuck the gym,” Justin snorted, hanging up the towels on the rack. “I don’t need it. Yet.”
“So you say.” Brian pulled on his dark blue silk robe and tied the sash. “This open invitation to Deb’s family dinners apparently signals that I’ve officially been welcomed back into the fold. And so has Gus. I think that’s a good thing. He doesn’t have much family to fall back on - the Kinneys are worthless and the Petersons not far behind. He could do worse than Debbie and Carl as surrogate Grandma and Gramps. God knows Deb is desperate for a grandchild to spoil the shit out of.”
“What’s the story with Melanie and J.R.? Does Michael ever hear from them?” Justin asked.
Brian shrugged. “Occasionally. He told me that he’s tried to work out some kind of arrangement with Mel for the kid to come up and visit, but it’s pretty sporadic. And you know Deb wouldn’t be happy with anything less than the spawn of Mel and Michael moving into Michael’s room full-time until she’s forty or until Deb croaks, whichever comes first.”
“That’s really sad. But it’s nice that Gus is there.” Justin paused, feeling more than a little guilty. “You probably should be there, too. It is Sunday.”
“I don’t see you there,” Brian pointed out.
“It’s not my thing,” said Justin. This was an uncomfortable area. “Deb used to invite me when I first came back to the Pitts, but it felt weird. Michael wasn’t exactly welcoming.”
“Ah, Michael,” said Brian. “The self-appointed guardian of my reputation. Just ignore him.”
“That’s easier said than done, Brian,” Justin said. “You didn’t have to sit there while he glared at you. And that kid - that Hunter - he’d glare at me, too! Ben was always okay, and Debbie and Carl, but how can I eat when Michael and the kid are giving me the fucking Evil Eye?”
“Fuck ’em. Don’t let anyone scare you away.”
Justin shrugged. “Yeah, well, I just stopped going. It was easier.”
Brian looked at him pointedly. “And Sunshine always takes the easy way? That doesn’t sound like the plucky little fag with a cheerful smile on his face and a song in his queer little heart whose brains I used to fuck into oblivion.”
“It wasn’t taking the easy way out,” Justin insisted. “It was knowing when to let go. Knowing when it was time to move on. I was no longer part of the family. It was as simple as that.”
“Family,” said Brian. “That poisonous word. So, what about family? Then how come you’re not chowing down with your mom and sister today.”
“And my so-called step-father.” Justin curled his lip. He didn’t mind Jennifer’s husband, Brad, but he wasn’t crazy about him, either. “Believe me, I’ve had enough family dinners with them to last me for a long, long time.”
“Is that what you told your boyfriend?” Brian inquired. “That you’ve had enough of the family dinners?”
Justin winced. “Not exactly. But Robbie was working this afternoon anyway.”
“Sneaking around on your significant other is never a good idea, Sunshine.” Brian took hold of Justin’s cock to underline his intent.
But Justin pulled away. “Fuck you, Brian.”
“That’s already a moot point.” Brian went to the fridge and took out two beers. “Is Old Pitt satisfactory? Since they’re clients, I get plenty of this swill for free.”
“It’s fine.” Justin plopped down on the sofa. Brian settled next to him and handed him a beer. “So how’s Gus? I mean, how is he really? What’s he like?”
“Why do you give a shit?” asked Brian. “And don’t start that bullshit about how you named him, blah blah blah, because you know that was always typical Justin Taylor hyperbole. Lindsay already had that name picked out. She told me before the brat was born. She was just trying to get it past Melanie. Abraham? Jesus Christ!”
“Yeah, he never would have survived elementary school with the name Abraham.”
“No shit!”
Justin had been trying to find a way to wrangle Gus into the conversation. Of all the things Justin was curious about, Brian’s son was at the top of the list. Justin’s memories of Gus were golden. The boy seemed to symbolize the best of what he and Brian had shared way back when. And now Gus was a teenager. He was almost the same age Justin had been when he met Brian. That freaked him out, but it also intrigued him. There were photographs of Gus in Brian’s office and another one on the table next to the bed, but looking at them only made Justin want to see the boy in the flesh even more.
“So… what does Gus like? Does he still like to draw pictures?”
“Draw pictures?” Brian frowned. “Not that I’ve ever seen. So if you thought he was going to follow in your footsteps as a great artiste, that’s a no go. Gus likes movies, video games, sports… and girls. As far as I know, he’s hasn’t gotten any pussy yet, but it’s still early for a straight boy. Of course, by the time I was 16 I could already suck the head off a nail, as they say. But Gus is a little shy, which isn’t a bad thing. He doesn’t need to do anything he’s not ready for. Right now his main obsession is getting his driver’s license. He’ll be 16 in September.”
“Yeah, I remember,” said Justin. “After all, I was there…”
“The night he was born,” Brian continued. “Yes, my long term memory hasn’t been compromised by my advanced age.”
“Old man,” whispered Justin.
“Not too old to wear you out, twat.”
“Who’s worn out?” Justin challenged.
“We’ll see after we eat the pizza.” Brian took a sip of his beer. “Jesus, this swill never gets better. But I’m trying to back off of the hard stuff.”
“I kind of noticed that,” said Justin. “The booze cart is empty.”
“Well,” said Brian. “Sometimes you need to take a break from killing yourself.”
“Is that what you were doing - killing yourself?” Justin’s tone was soft, but somber.
“I wanted to,” Brian admitted. “But… I can’t. Not now. I have responsibilities.”
Justin didn’t need to ask. “Gus.”
“Yeah,” Brian sighed. “I knew it was a fucking mistake to jerk off into that cup. I’m still dealing with the ramifications.”
“You love that kid,” Justin stated.
“You’re right. I give up,” he confessed. “I love that kid. I love my son.”
“I know you do,” said Justin. And that’s another reason I love you, Brian, he thought. You love Gus. You’ve always loved him. Don’t fight it. It’s one of the things that makes you human.
“I’m afraid for him,” Brian said. “I’m afraid that the fucking Kinney will come out one day in both of us and that will be the end of it all. We’ll destroy each other. That’s my fear. Without Ron to be there as the fucking voice of reason…”
Ron. The name was like a stab to Justin’s heart. Brian loved Ron. And Gus loved Ron. But Justin was on the outside. He’d always be on the outside. Because he hadn’t stayed. Because he hadn’t believed in Brian enough. He’d only thought about what he wanted and not about what Brian needed. What they both needed.
“You won’t fuck up,” Justin said. “I know you won’t.”
“You don’t know that, because I don’t know that,” Brian sniffed. “Fucking up is something I’m destined to do. It’s fucking genetic!”
“No!” Justin exclaimed. “It’s not genetic! It’s not inevitable. You’re not your father and you’re not your mother. You’re yourself. You… you’ve already broken your own pattern. With… with Ron.” Justin almost swallowed the name, but he soldiered on. “You loved him. You stayed with him. You had a… a life. That’s more than I’ve ever managed to do. Stick with one guy. Love one guy. Or love anyone.”
“Maybe you’re better off,” said Brian. “You go your own way and do your own fucking thing. Love is highly overrated. When it ends… it’s too fucking painful.”
Another stab in the heart. “I… I doubt I’m better off. As you said, it’s what I do. I’m screwing around on my boyfriend as we speak.”
“It is what it is,” Brian said. “No locks on your door, Sunshine.”
“Did you feel you were locked in with Ron?” Justin asked. “Is that how it was?”
“No,” Brian said softly. “That’s not how it was. But… sometimes… it wasn’t always perfect. And I, especially, wasn’t perfect. I wanted to be. Fuck knows, I tried to be. But I’m still Brian Kinney. Thank God Ron understood that. And forgave that.”
Justin leaned his head against Brian’s shoulder. “He didn’t need to forgive you for being who you were. No apologies, no excuses, no regrets, remember?”
“That was bullshit then and it’s still bullshit. My whole fucking philosophy was bullshit! But now it’s too fucking late to… to…” Brian abruptly stood up and walked to the window, peering out though the flimsy curtains. “The pizza guy is here. Too much fucking talking and not enough eating and fucking. Let’s eat the fucking pizza and then get back to the fucking.”
“Whatever you say, Brian,” Justin agreed.
The bell rang and Brian buzzed in the pizza guy. “If he’s cute, you want to invite him to join in the Sunday festivities?”
“Are you kidding?” Justin wasn’t certain. Once upon a time it was something Brian would have done without even asking.
“Yes, I’m kidding, twat! Especially if he’s anything like the guy who used to deliver for Angelo’s. He was a fucking troll and a half!
Justin breathed in relief. “I think it’s the same man. He’s about 60 now.”
Brian shuddered. “I guess I’ll have to settle for you,” he smirked.
Justin nodded. “I guess you will.”
Brian spread a futon out on the floor and they began to eat the pizza. But before they’d finished half of it, they were tangled up together and had forgotten they were ever hungry for anything but each other.