"Coup de Foudre" 33
You think things were complicated before?
Just wait...
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2016
“Brian, aren’t you supposed to be back at the office before 1:30 for a meeting?”
Brian yawned and leaned over, running his fingers through Justin’s hair. After all these years, it still felt silky and smelled like lemons. He’d always liked Justin’s hair. But he’d also liked it when he buzzed it off. Then it was soft and spiky, like chick fuzz. But that was during all that Pink Posse bullshit. What the fuck had that been all about? Another one of Justin’s five-minute passions. Luckily, it blew over before anyone got hurt, but Brian remembered a few nights when he’d paced back and forth, looking out the loft window, wondering if the little twat would come home in one piece.
“Relax. We have plenty of time. How about a nice hot shower? And a nice hot fuck in that shower?”
“Sounds great,” said Justin. “But I’m only reminding you because I don’t want to be too late. Cynthia was watching me leave and I know she’s going to be watching for me to come back.”
“You’re paranoid,” said Brian. He planted a kiss on Justin’s shoulder. Then another on his neck. Tasty. Very, very tasty.
“Listen,” said Justin. “You can afford to dance into work any time you want - you own the place. But I have to be paranoid. I’m just an assistant art director.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “You’re leading my Bonevil campaign. Have you missed a meeting for that?”
“Of course not,” said Justin.
“Then don’t sweat it.” Brian nibbled along Justin’s jawline. “You think Cynthia is going to fire you? It’s not going to happen.”
“Because we’re fucking,” Justin stated.
“No,” said Brian, beginning to get annoyed. “Because you’re a good employee and creative as shit. I don’t give a fuck how many minutes you’re in the office doing busy work for Murph. You’re working for me. Remember that.”
Justin bit his lip. “Is that the way you run a business, Brian? Anyone can come and go as they please?”
Brian tightened his fingers around a strand of Justin’s hair and jerked it hard. “What the fuck are you getting at, Sunshine?”
Justin grabbed Brian’s hand and held it. “I want to be treated like a real employee and not your over-aged boytoy.”
“You’re not that over-aged,” Brian sniffed. “And you are a real employee, brat. What brought this snit-fit on? Maybe you didn’t get fucked enough. Then let’s get into the shower and finish the job.”
“This isn’t about fucking,” said Justin.
Brian stared at Justin. “Yes it is. What we do in the loft is about fucking. That’s all it’s about. Isn’t that why we’re here? Isn’t that what we both want? Fuck buddies, right?”
Justin didn’t answer. He got out of bed and headed for the shower. He turned on the water, tested the temperature, and got in. The pulse was hard and stinging, but it felt good. The water pressure in his apartment was never strong enough to suit him. And he wanted it strong. He shut his eyes and left his body drink in the spray.
“What’s the deal with you today?” said Brian, getting in and moving against him.
Justin handed Brian the bar of soap. “Nothing. I just don’t want to get into trouble at work.”
“I already told you not to worry about that,” Brian said dismissively. “You can’t be mad about my stupid blind date last night, can you? Because if you are, forget it.”
“I’m not mad,” said Justin. But that’s all he could think about. That guy had been here, in the loft. In the bed. Probably in the shower, too. “Why should I be mad?”
“You shouldn’t.” Brian rubbed his cock against Justin’s ass. “We aren’t a fucking couple. You know that. You and Bobby are a couple.”
“But not exclusive,” said Justin. “And his name is Robbie. You know that, Brian, so don’t be a dick about it.”
“Okay, you and Robbie. Have you told young and clueless Robbie that you aren’t exclusive? He might want to know that. Like in case he’s planning some kind of life with you.”
Justin winced. “Robbie knows my history. He’s not exactly picking out china patterns.”
Brian laughed shortly. “Which is why he moved into your apartment. Because he thinks it’s not serious.” Brian slowly moved the soap up and down Justin’s chest, mirroring the movement of his cock in the crack of Justin’s ass. “Tell him the truth. Or break it off with him. Don’t be that asshole who always lies to his boyfriends.”
Justin steadied himself. He knew he was going to come, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “That’s how you think of me, isn’t it?”
“I’ve known you since you were 17 years old,” Brian stated bluntly. “And the person you’ve always been the least honest with is yourself. I’ve always known when you were lying. Always. I don’t think Robbie has that same instinct.”
Justin felt a pang in his gut. “You knew about Ethan from the beginning, didn’t you?”
It was jarring to say Ethan’s name, especially to Brian. They had never, ever talked about him, or about why Justin had left, or why he’d come back. Except for a few brief words that night in Brian’s office when Brian made some lame joke about never playing violin music in his presence again, that incident evaporated like it never happened. That’s the way it had been with all of their break-ups, all of their disagreements, every aspect of their so-called relationship, even their fucking broken engagement. Nothing was ever spoken of, and so there was never any sense of closure.
“What the fuck do you think?” Brian said with irritation. “That you could come home stinking of that guy and I wouldn’t know? I still can’t get that fucking awful hipster patchouli oil or whatever he doused himself with out of my nose. I don’t know how you could stand it. But why the fuck are we talking about that cat-torturing gutter rat when we should be fucking? Do you want to come or what?”
“Yes.” Justin braced himself against the tiles. He was anticipating Brian’s cock. Craving it. “I want to come.”
“Then shut the fuck up and let’s get on with it!”
***
Justin had driven the Jeep to the loft, so he drove alone back to Kinnetik. He parked behind the building and went up the elevator, hoping to avoid seeing anyone except Phoebe at the front desk. Phoebe was on the phone and simply nodded at him, so he headed to his office, breathing a sigh of relief.
But Cynthia was waiting at his door.
“Justin,” she said coolly. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure.” Justin went inside, feeling like he’d been summoned to the principal’s office.
Cynthia followed and shut the door behind them. “I won’t ask where you’ve been because I don’t need to ask. It’s pretty obvious to me and it’s becoming obvious to a lot of other people, too, especially those who know your history with Brian, like Ted and Murph. Even John asked me what was going on.”
“I’m sorry, Cynthia,” Justin retorted. This was what he’d been afraid of. But he knew it was coming. Knew it and hated it. “It’s none of their fucking business. And it’s none of your business, either. Brian and I aren’t doing anything in this office. Whatever we’re doing has no affect on my work or his work and you know it. So I think you should back off.”
Justin knew he was in the wrong here, but he had to defend himself. That’s what Brian would do. And Brian had guaranteed that he wouldn’t be fired - what would they fire him for? Fucking the boss? Been there and done that already. But what he hated was disappointing Cynthia. She was the one who had given him a chance at Kinnetik. She’d always been his biggest defender.
“I understand,” said Cynthia. Her manner was distant and business-like, but the anger under the surface was obvious. “There’s nothing I can say to Brian about this. He’s my boss and he’s John’s boss. He can do whatever he likes. But that doesn’t make it right. Brian has always been a professional and so have you. But this is not professional behavior and you both know it. You’re doing a wonderful job on the Bonevil campaign, but how will you feel if you hear people saying that the only reason you got that account was because you’re screwing the boss? Is that what you want your reputation to be in this office?”
“No,” Justin whispered. “But what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Cynthia took Justin’s hand. “Justin, please tell me! Why Brian? I thought that was over years ago! You have a nice boyfriend. I met him at Starbucks that time, remember? He’s cute and he obviously adores you. I know Brian is hurting right now, but if you think you’re helping him, this isn’t the way. He’s falling back on the past instead of moving forward.”
“I… I can’t help myself,” Justin admitted. “I still love him. I always have.”
Cynthia let go of his hand and stepped back. “You had Brian. Had him and walked away from him. So don’t give me that bullshit about how you’ve always loved him, blah blah blah, he’s the love of your life. Don’t pull that with me, Justin Taylor. I know you too well. And I know Brian, too. Everyone thinks he was always the bad guy. Always the one who broke poor little Justin’s heart. But I know better. You were always the one who broke his heart. And it’s not going to end any better this time. Brian may seem like he’s hard and untouchable, but he’s in deep, deep pain right now. He’s lost a man he loved dearly and who loved him. He’s grieving, even though he’s trying to hide behind his usual Brian Kinney bullshit facade. This is not going to end well and you know it.”
Justin understood that what Cynthia was telling him was the truth - or partly the truth. It was the truth of the past. But things were different now. Yes, he and Brian had both made a lot of stupid fucking mistakes, but there was still time to rectify them. And he did love Brian. Loved him from the first moment he saw him on the street outside of Babylon. Justin was not religious or superstitious, but he did believe in one particular thing - that he and Brian were destined to be together. And they would be. He was certain of that.
“Will you think about what I’ve said?” Cynthia pleaded. “Really think about it?”
“Yes,” said Justin, swallowing hard. “I’ll think about it. But if you think Brian is going to stay away from me because of some stupid gossip in the office, then you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”
“It’s not Brian I’m addressing,” said Cynthia in her schoolteacher tone. “It’s you. You claim to love him, but this is going to hurt him - badly. Think about that.”
And she turned and walked out, leaving the door gaping open.
“Shit,” Justin said out loud. “Shit. Fuck. Piss.”
Nothing but fucking complications!
The last thing Brian had said to him before they left the loft was to remind him that Gus was leaving for Toronto that weekend. And that his housekeeper, Carmel, was going on vacation at the same time.
“Which means I’m going to be at loose ends. And I can also stay here at the loft for the duration,” Brian had told him. “We can stay here all night. No more setting the alarm and rushing back to make a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed appearance at the breakfast table.”
“But I can’t,” Justin had replied. “What the fuck do I tell Robbie if I stay out all night?”
Brian’s face had hardened. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell him. Tell him a lie. Tell him the fucking truth! But if you want to stay here with me at the loft, I’m extending the invitation. If you don’t…” Brian had looked away. “I can always find someone who will.”
That guy! That fucking blind date! Brian liked him. Or he was holding him over Justin’s head, trying to force his hand. Or maybe both.
He left the office and headed down the hallway. He saw Ted coming out of the men’s room.
“Hey, Justin,” Ted said casually.
Justin thought he saw a smirk on Ted’s face. “Keep out of my fucking business, okay?”
Ted stared at him in surprise. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, sure!” Justin elbowed by him. Ted had always been a fucking ass-kisser. As long as Brian was the boss, he’d never say anything bad to Justin’s face, only behind his back!
Justin went to Brian’s office, but then he remembered that he was in a meeting. Some presentation for Open Fire Steakhouses, which meant they were in the conference room. He’d have to talk to Brian another time. Tell him what Cynthia had said. Tell him what they were all saying. Tell him… what?
Fuck.
Justin trudged back to his office.
He sat at his desk and moved some papers around. This was ridiculous! He couldn’t think. Couldn’t work.
He took out his phone and called Robbie, but it went to voicemail. Where the fuck was he? He was working the evening shift at Starbucks, so he should be answering in the afternoon.
The two of them needed to talk, but about what?
He couldn’t very well tell the kid to move out - he’d just moved in!
And he couldn’t tell him about Brian. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t sure that what he felt for Robbie was love - how could it be when he was in love with Brian? - but he liked Robbie. More than liked him. And he liked having a steady relationship. It was nice to have someone to come home to. Someone to depend on. And he liked the sex. He couldn’t discount that aspect. Robbie was young and hot and he loved the way Justin fucked him.
But Justin loved the way Brian fucked him.
This whole thing was making Justin’s head hurt.
Justin checked the time. It’s was almost 4:00. He still had an hour before he was supposed to leave.
Fuck it. He needed to get out of here. So what if he left early? So fucking what? What would Cynthia do? Fire him?
Justin packed up his portfolio and walked out.
“Justin!” called Phoebe at the front desk. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “And who the fuck cares?”
Just wait...
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2016
“Brian, aren’t you supposed to be back at the office before 1:30 for a meeting?”
Brian yawned and leaned over, running his fingers through Justin’s hair. After all these years, it still felt silky and smelled like lemons. He’d always liked Justin’s hair. But he’d also liked it when he buzzed it off. Then it was soft and spiky, like chick fuzz. But that was during all that Pink Posse bullshit. What the fuck had that been all about? Another one of Justin’s five-minute passions. Luckily, it blew over before anyone got hurt, but Brian remembered a few nights when he’d paced back and forth, looking out the loft window, wondering if the little twat would come home in one piece.
“Relax. We have plenty of time. How about a nice hot shower? And a nice hot fuck in that shower?”
“Sounds great,” said Justin. “But I’m only reminding you because I don’t want to be too late. Cynthia was watching me leave and I know she’s going to be watching for me to come back.”
“You’re paranoid,” said Brian. He planted a kiss on Justin’s shoulder. Then another on his neck. Tasty. Very, very tasty.
“Listen,” said Justin. “You can afford to dance into work any time you want - you own the place. But I have to be paranoid. I’m just an assistant art director.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “You’re leading my Bonevil campaign. Have you missed a meeting for that?”
“Of course not,” said Justin.
“Then don’t sweat it.” Brian nibbled along Justin’s jawline. “You think Cynthia is going to fire you? It’s not going to happen.”
“Because we’re fucking,” Justin stated.
“No,” said Brian, beginning to get annoyed. “Because you’re a good employee and creative as shit. I don’t give a fuck how many minutes you’re in the office doing busy work for Murph. You’re working for me. Remember that.”
Justin bit his lip. “Is that the way you run a business, Brian? Anyone can come and go as they please?”
Brian tightened his fingers around a strand of Justin’s hair and jerked it hard. “What the fuck are you getting at, Sunshine?”
Justin grabbed Brian’s hand and held it. “I want to be treated like a real employee and not your over-aged boytoy.”
“You’re not that over-aged,” Brian sniffed. “And you are a real employee, brat. What brought this snit-fit on? Maybe you didn’t get fucked enough. Then let’s get into the shower and finish the job.”
“This isn’t about fucking,” said Justin.
Brian stared at Justin. “Yes it is. What we do in the loft is about fucking. That’s all it’s about. Isn’t that why we’re here? Isn’t that what we both want? Fuck buddies, right?”
Justin didn’t answer. He got out of bed and headed for the shower. He turned on the water, tested the temperature, and got in. The pulse was hard and stinging, but it felt good. The water pressure in his apartment was never strong enough to suit him. And he wanted it strong. He shut his eyes and left his body drink in the spray.
“What’s the deal with you today?” said Brian, getting in and moving against him.
Justin handed Brian the bar of soap. “Nothing. I just don’t want to get into trouble at work.”
“I already told you not to worry about that,” Brian said dismissively. “You can’t be mad about my stupid blind date last night, can you? Because if you are, forget it.”
“I’m not mad,” said Justin. But that’s all he could think about. That guy had been here, in the loft. In the bed. Probably in the shower, too. “Why should I be mad?”
“You shouldn’t.” Brian rubbed his cock against Justin’s ass. “We aren’t a fucking couple. You know that. You and Bobby are a couple.”
“But not exclusive,” said Justin. “And his name is Robbie. You know that, Brian, so don’t be a dick about it.”
“Okay, you and Robbie. Have you told young and clueless Robbie that you aren’t exclusive? He might want to know that. Like in case he’s planning some kind of life with you.”
Justin winced. “Robbie knows my history. He’s not exactly picking out china patterns.”
Brian laughed shortly. “Which is why he moved into your apartment. Because he thinks it’s not serious.” Brian slowly moved the soap up and down Justin’s chest, mirroring the movement of his cock in the crack of Justin’s ass. “Tell him the truth. Or break it off with him. Don’t be that asshole who always lies to his boyfriends.”
Justin steadied himself. He knew he was going to come, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “That’s how you think of me, isn’t it?”
“I’ve known you since you were 17 years old,” Brian stated bluntly. “And the person you’ve always been the least honest with is yourself. I’ve always known when you were lying. Always. I don’t think Robbie has that same instinct.”
Justin felt a pang in his gut. “You knew about Ethan from the beginning, didn’t you?”
It was jarring to say Ethan’s name, especially to Brian. They had never, ever talked about him, or about why Justin had left, or why he’d come back. Except for a few brief words that night in Brian’s office when Brian made some lame joke about never playing violin music in his presence again, that incident evaporated like it never happened. That’s the way it had been with all of their break-ups, all of their disagreements, every aspect of their so-called relationship, even their fucking broken engagement. Nothing was ever spoken of, and so there was never any sense of closure.
“What the fuck do you think?” Brian said with irritation. “That you could come home stinking of that guy and I wouldn’t know? I still can’t get that fucking awful hipster patchouli oil or whatever he doused himself with out of my nose. I don’t know how you could stand it. But why the fuck are we talking about that cat-torturing gutter rat when we should be fucking? Do you want to come or what?”
“Yes.” Justin braced himself against the tiles. He was anticipating Brian’s cock. Craving it. “I want to come.”
“Then shut the fuck up and let’s get on with it!”
***
Justin had driven the Jeep to the loft, so he drove alone back to Kinnetik. He parked behind the building and went up the elevator, hoping to avoid seeing anyone except Phoebe at the front desk. Phoebe was on the phone and simply nodded at him, so he headed to his office, breathing a sigh of relief.
But Cynthia was waiting at his door.
“Justin,” she said coolly. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure.” Justin went inside, feeling like he’d been summoned to the principal’s office.
Cynthia followed and shut the door behind them. “I won’t ask where you’ve been because I don’t need to ask. It’s pretty obvious to me and it’s becoming obvious to a lot of other people, too, especially those who know your history with Brian, like Ted and Murph. Even John asked me what was going on.”
“I’m sorry, Cynthia,” Justin retorted. This was what he’d been afraid of. But he knew it was coming. Knew it and hated it. “It’s none of their fucking business. And it’s none of your business, either. Brian and I aren’t doing anything in this office. Whatever we’re doing has no affect on my work or his work and you know it. So I think you should back off.”
Justin knew he was in the wrong here, but he had to defend himself. That’s what Brian would do. And Brian had guaranteed that he wouldn’t be fired - what would they fire him for? Fucking the boss? Been there and done that already. But what he hated was disappointing Cynthia. She was the one who had given him a chance at Kinnetik. She’d always been his biggest defender.
“I understand,” said Cynthia. Her manner was distant and business-like, but the anger under the surface was obvious. “There’s nothing I can say to Brian about this. He’s my boss and he’s John’s boss. He can do whatever he likes. But that doesn’t make it right. Brian has always been a professional and so have you. But this is not professional behavior and you both know it. You’re doing a wonderful job on the Bonevil campaign, but how will you feel if you hear people saying that the only reason you got that account was because you’re screwing the boss? Is that what you want your reputation to be in this office?”
“No,” Justin whispered. “But what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Cynthia took Justin’s hand. “Justin, please tell me! Why Brian? I thought that was over years ago! You have a nice boyfriend. I met him at Starbucks that time, remember? He’s cute and he obviously adores you. I know Brian is hurting right now, but if you think you’re helping him, this isn’t the way. He’s falling back on the past instead of moving forward.”
“I… I can’t help myself,” Justin admitted. “I still love him. I always have.”
Cynthia let go of his hand and stepped back. “You had Brian. Had him and walked away from him. So don’t give me that bullshit about how you’ve always loved him, blah blah blah, he’s the love of your life. Don’t pull that with me, Justin Taylor. I know you too well. And I know Brian, too. Everyone thinks he was always the bad guy. Always the one who broke poor little Justin’s heart. But I know better. You were always the one who broke his heart. And it’s not going to end any better this time. Brian may seem like he’s hard and untouchable, but he’s in deep, deep pain right now. He’s lost a man he loved dearly and who loved him. He’s grieving, even though he’s trying to hide behind his usual Brian Kinney bullshit facade. This is not going to end well and you know it.”
Justin understood that what Cynthia was telling him was the truth - or partly the truth. It was the truth of the past. But things were different now. Yes, he and Brian had both made a lot of stupid fucking mistakes, but there was still time to rectify them. And he did love Brian. Loved him from the first moment he saw him on the street outside of Babylon. Justin was not religious or superstitious, but he did believe in one particular thing - that he and Brian were destined to be together. And they would be. He was certain of that.
“Will you think about what I’ve said?” Cynthia pleaded. “Really think about it?”
“Yes,” said Justin, swallowing hard. “I’ll think about it. But if you think Brian is going to stay away from me because of some stupid gossip in the office, then you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”
“It’s not Brian I’m addressing,” said Cynthia in her schoolteacher tone. “It’s you. You claim to love him, but this is going to hurt him - badly. Think about that.”
And she turned and walked out, leaving the door gaping open.
“Shit,” Justin said out loud. “Shit. Fuck. Piss.”
Nothing but fucking complications!
The last thing Brian had said to him before they left the loft was to remind him that Gus was leaving for Toronto that weekend. And that his housekeeper, Carmel, was going on vacation at the same time.
“Which means I’m going to be at loose ends. And I can also stay here at the loft for the duration,” Brian had told him. “We can stay here all night. No more setting the alarm and rushing back to make a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed appearance at the breakfast table.”
“But I can’t,” Justin had replied. “What the fuck do I tell Robbie if I stay out all night?”
Brian’s face had hardened. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell him. Tell him a lie. Tell him the fucking truth! But if you want to stay here with me at the loft, I’m extending the invitation. If you don’t…” Brian had looked away. “I can always find someone who will.”
That guy! That fucking blind date! Brian liked him. Or he was holding him over Justin’s head, trying to force his hand. Or maybe both.
He left the office and headed down the hallway. He saw Ted coming out of the men’s room.
“Hey, Justin,” Ted said casually.
Justin thought he saw a smirk on Ted’s face. “Keep out of my fucking business, okay?”
Ted stared at him in surprise. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, sure!” Justin elbowed by him. Ted had always been a fucking ass-kisser. As long as Brian was the boss, he’d never say anything bad to Justin’s face, only behind his back!
Justin went to Brian’s office, but then he remembered that he was in a meeting. Some presentation for Open Fire Steakhouses, which meant they were in the conference room. He’d have to talk to Brian another time. Tell him what Cynthia had said. Tell him what they were all saying. Tell him… what?
Fuck.
Justin trudged back to his office.
He sat at his desk and moved some papers around. This was ridiculous! He couldn’t think. Couldn’t work.
He took out his phone and called Robbie, but it went to voicemail. Where the fuck was he? He was working the evening shift at Starbucks, so he should be answering in the afternoon.
The two of them needed to talk, but about what?
He couldn’t very well tell the kid to move out - he’d just moved in!
And he couldn’t tell him about Brian. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t sure that what he felt for Robbie was love - how could it be when he was in love with Brian? - but he liked Robbie. More than liked him. And he liked having a steady relationship. It was nice to have someone to come home to. Someone to depend on. And he liked the sex. He couldn’t discount that aspect. Robbie was young and hot and he loved the way Justin fucked him.
But Justin loved the way Brian fucked him.
This whole thing was making Justin’s head hurt.
Justin checked the time. It’s was almost 4:00. He still had an hour before he was supposed to leave.
Fuck it. He needed to get out of here. So what if he left early? So fucking what? What would Cynthia do? Fire him?
Justin packed up his portfolio and walked out.
“Justin!” called Phoebe at the front desk. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “And who the fuck cares?”