As the World Turns Fic #8: The QAF Crossover One
Title: The QAF Crossover One
Author: Myrna1_2_3
Fandom: As the World Turns
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Reid (and from QAF Brian/Justin)
Rating: R
Summary: Justin comes to speak at a Foundation fundraiser.
Disclaimer: Not-not-mine
Author’s Notes: For susanderavish! Happy early or late birthday! Humble apologies for anything I got wrong in the QAF universe-it’s really hard to find YouTube clips of anything but Justin and Brian in flagrante delicto, so I may have lost their voices in the years since the series went off the air.
Reid Oliver stood glowering in the corner of the Snyder Foundation Reception Hall. He couldn’t imagine a more egregious way of spending a Saturday afternoon than trussed up in a suit and forced to listen to sappy, Up With People, Little Engine That Could tales of overcoming homophobia and other natural disasters. Bob Hughes was going to rue the day; yes, rue the very day he…
“I don’t mean to be… critical,” Luke lied as he slid up next to Reid. “But is there any way you could look just slightly less homicidal?”
“Let’s review,” Reid said tightly. “My options today were operating on a 30 year old who slammed his motorcycle into a highway median or flapping my gums with a bunch of overmonied do-gooders who want their asses kissed for giving money to charity because they’re too damned uptight to actually get their asses kissed, which is all they really want. If you ask me and our poor accident victim, Bob Hughes is the murderous one.” Reid glared at Luke, daring him to disagree.
Luke sighed. “I tuned out at Let’s review,” he admitted with a shrug. “Maybe Bob was trying to do a nice thing-you know, give us the opportunity to spend some time together…”
“So long as we pretend you don’t ride my cock on a regular basis,” Reid muttered.
“You’re so dreamy,” Luke said, hugging himself in faux delight.
“You said there would be food,” Reid said, nodding toward the empty buffet table.
“It’s coming,” Luke said. “I made sure they’re serving those bacon scallop things you like.”
“And the crab puffs?”
“Yes,” Luke said patiently.
“And the good canapés?”
“Like you would recognize a bad one?” Luke answered. He was craning his neck toward the door, searching for one of the speakers who’d presented earlier. Luke been looking forward to the day’s events since his foundation had booked the speaker a month earlier. Reid had never heard of him, but then why would he?
His name was Justin Taylor and he was an artist by trade, known mostly for a series of graphic novels, made famous, ironically, by his refusal to sell the rights to Hollywood for a movie adaptation. According to Luke, Taylor also created more traditional artwork that hung in several galleries in New York and Pittsburgh of all places. He had been injured in a gay-bashing when he was a teenager and had since been an active and public voice for gay rights. Luke’s foundation had been trying for several years to engage him to speak, but Taylor’s schedule was crowded, and it had never been feasible before.
Reid had been surprised when he caught his first glimpse of Taylor. He looked Luke’s age if not younger, though Reid had read the canned bio that said he was in his late twenties. He was dressed in khakis and an old shirt that made him looked like he painted houses for a living, not $500,000 works of art.
He’d arrived with another man, his partner if the juicy kiss he received before heading to the podium to speak was any indication. His partner was tall and dark, dressed in a suit someone who wasn’t Reid would probably recognize as designer. Reid knew it was expensive, as, no doubt, were his shoes, shirt and tie. The look on his face as he had scoped out the room was a mix of boredom and irritation.
“Sing it, Sister,” Reid had thought glumly.
Justin Taylor’s was the only speech that day Reid had been remotely interested in, mostly because the poor guy had suffered a closed head injury as the result of a baseball bat to the side of his head. He’d spoken dispassionately about the attack and its aftermath-which had included brain damage that rendered his drawing hand ineffectual-and Reid had been fascinated by the reaction from his partner. Before Justin spoke, the partner had been a study of torturous boredom, but during Justin’s speech the boredom was hardly visible beneath the clear agitation. He swiped at his upper lip, fidgeted with his tie, tugged at his nose.
Reid had found himself oddly sympathetic, remembering how hard it had been to hear Luke’s story of the camping trip with Noah’s father that ended with his temporary paralysis.
As he’d listened, Reid had fondly shaken his head at Luke’s look of rapt attention. Luke didn’t see any parallels between Justin’s story and his own, somehow admiring in Justin’s experience the strength and determination that led to his eventual political activism and yet blind to the very same thing in his own.
Now, waiting for Justin to arrive in the banquet room, Luke was as nervous as a school girl waiting for the appearance of a boy band. When Justin walked in, Luke grabbed Reid’s arm, nearly upsetting his drink. “There he is! There he is!” Luke whispered.
“Stop yanking on me,” Reid said, elbowing Luke away.
“I’m going to go over there, okay?” Luke said, straightening his tie. “That’s okay, right? The Foundation sponsored the event, if I don’t go over there, I’m being rude and I don’t want to be rude, so I’m going to go over there. Okay? That’s okay, right? God! Shut up!”
Reid’s mouth had been open to speak, but Luke was gone before he said anything. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he headed over to the buffet table where the waiters were finally setting out some food.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Thanks so much for coming,” Luke said by way of greeting Justin. “I’m Luke Snyder.”
“Justin Taylor,” Justin said shaking his hand. “This is my partner, Brian Kinney.”
Luke enthusiastically shook Justin’s hand and then Brian’s. “Thank you so much for coming,” Luke said again. “We’re so glad to have you.”
“Thank you so much for the exorbitant speakers fee,” Brian said, earning him a sidewise look from Justin. “Oh wait, that’s right. There isn’t one!”
“Well, to be fair, I did offer one,” Luke said amicably. “It was very kindly refused so it could be funneled back in to the Foundation.”
“You offered one?” Brian said, eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Luke shrugged and explained. “My foundation, my offer.”
Brian nodded slowly, but wasn’t necessarily buying it. “I thought the Foundation was started by the head of Grimaldi Shipping,” he said, casting a doubtful glance at Luke, who shrugged again, looking embarrassed.
“That’s me,” he said lightly. He cocked his head, as if listening to something in the distance. “Wait, Brian Kinney,” he said. “That name sounds familiar.”
“Kinney Advertising,” Brian said, pulling out a business card with a logo Luke recognized. “We signed on to Grimaldi Shipping last year.”
“Kinney Advertising!” Luke said. “Of course! Do you know our revenues increased six percent after the business-to-business campaign your firm put together? I wanted to push the consumer side, but concentrating on the business end turned out to be the right idea.”
Brian’s distant smile turned charming. “I would have handled the deal personally if I’d known our paths were going to cross,” he said.
Luke laughed good naturedly. “Don’t worry. I know we’ll never generate the kind of revenue that has the CEO sitting at the negotiating table.”
Brian rocked back on his heels then, head back as an epiphany hit. “Okay, now I get it,” he said, more to himself than Luke.
“Pardon me?” Luke asked.
Brian shook his head. “Nothing. Just something my account exec said when he came back from your presentation. Something along the lines of I would have really enjoyed the head of Grimaldi.” He smiled wolfishly at Luke, or more accurately, at Luke’s mouth. “I can only agree,” Brian said, leaning in close and half-whispering the words.
Luke blushed dark red and cast his eyes nervously around the room. “I better… um, I’m going to just… go over there now,” he said, flustered, and scampered toward the rest room.
Justin lifted a sardonic brow at Brian. “Must you scare the children?” he asked.
“It’s good for him,” Brian said. “I’m guessing Bo Duke doesn’t get cruised very often here in Farmdale or wherever the hell we are.”
Justin gave him a doubtful glance that made Brian grimace in irritation. “You fucking know who Bo Duke is,” he said.
“Mm, bet he doesn’t,” Justin said.
Brian sighed sadly. “I thought you were going to be more sensitive about my fragile feelings as 40 creeps closer and closer and closer…”
“No, that would be Michael,” Justin said. “I appreciate, by the way, your having him send me suggestions for ways to ease you into your next year. The pictures were especially helpful.”
“It’s so important to have good friends.”
“Brian?” Justin’s voice was oozing patience which was never a good thing.
“Yes?” Brian answered in kind.
“You’re hovering.”
“I don’t hover.”
“You’re hovering,” Justin said. “Go blow off some steam.”
Brian cast his eyes are around the room. “None of these geriatric cases are whetting my appetite,” he said. “You should have brought Emmett instead of forcing me along.”
“Don’t even try,” Justin said. “I try to book one of these single-day speaking gigs, and you act like I’m committing some unspeakable crime.” He looked around the room and paused at a man who was meticulously scouring the buffet line with an already impressively loaded plate. “He’s hot,” Justin said, lifting his chin toward the man.
“He won’t be for long if he eats like that all the time,” Brian said. Still, the guy looked fit, had a good head of hair and seemed to project enough attitude to pass an interesting few minutes. “Fine, I’ll go, but only because you tell me to.”
Justin snorted and caught Luke’s eye, motioning for him to come back over.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Brian approached the man as he exited the buffet line. “I know something else you could be doing that actually burns calories rather than consumes them,” he said. “Well, aside from a little protein injection.”
“No, I’m good,” the guy said around a mouthful of bacon-wrapped scallop. Brian glanced at the man’s name tag which identified him as Reid Oliver, MD, and gave his affiliation as the Foundation Hospital Project.
“You could be better,” Brian promised.
"Yeah, I could be somewhere else," Reid said.
Brian smiled. "As long as you're here, you might as well treat yourself to something other than clogged arteries."
“What do you want?” Reid asked irritably.
“Christ, what’s wrong with you-it’s not brain surgery, Einstein. What do you think I want?”
“Well, tell you what,” Reid said amicably. “Why don’t I give the hospital a call, check the penicillin supply and get back to you?”
“Yes or no works fine,” Brian said dryly.
“Okay then, no,” Reid said.
“No,” Brian repeated. “You’re saying no?”
“Yes.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Why?” he said. “Do you see anyone else here even remotely deserving of my time?”
Reid coughed in disbelief, “You really want me to stand here and list all of the reasons why I don’t want to have sex with you?”
“There’s a list?” Brian said. “All I can imagine is One: You’re a eunuch.”
“That being the only thing you can imagine?” Reid said with a smirk. “Is actually reason number eight why I’m not interested. Number eight.”
“You want to make this interesting?” Brian said. “What if, assuming I get off, I offer a check for $25,000 to the Foundation Hospital Project?”
“How about I offer a check for $30,000, and you keep your clothes on?”
“Thirty-five?” Brian said.
Reid looked thoughtful for all of a second. “You know what’s ironic about all of this is that my boss really is worried that I’m sleeping with someone to get money for the project. Which almost pisses me off enough to sleep with someone to get money for the project, but, again, I’m going to have to…”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, if we’d just fucking left when I asked, it’d already be over.”
“That’s reason number six I’m not interested, by the way,” Reid said with a polite smile.
Brian sighed sadly. “Didn’t someone say once if you only have a short time to live, visit Oakdale and it’ll seem like a lifetime?”
“Probably me,” Reid said.
“So what brought you to God’s gift to barn yard animals?” Brian asked.
Reid shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he said. “Trickery, lies, blackmail, a court order, and the opportunity to perform a miracle mere mortals couldn’t even comprehend much less execute.”
“I thought it was a red letter day when I finally got the fuck out of Pittsburgh,” Brian said, shaking his head in horror. “What the hell kind of spontaneous ejaculations do you have when you get to blow this place?”
“You’re in sad straights when you’re in no position to make fun of Pittsburgh,” Reid said, stuffing an entire canapé in his mouth. Motioning with his chin over Brian’s shoulder, Reid said, “Isn’t that more your speed?”
Brian glanced over his shoulder at Luke who had returned to fangirl all over Justin. “I’ve already had a helping of that today,” Brian said with a lazy grin. Something about the way Reid’s eyes lingered over Luke made Brian roll his eyes in sudden understanding. He snickered with it-takes-one-to-know-one amusement.
Almost against his will, Reid quirked an inquiring brow at him.
“There’s something to be said for bagging them before any bad habits take root, isn’t there?” Brian said. “Get to train ‘em from the ground up. The emotional attachment can be troublesome but a blow job performed to your ideal specifications makes up for a lot of that.”
Reid heaved an irritated sigh. “You know, it’s not like I was trolling high schools and lured him to my car with the promise of a juice box,” he said.
Brian winced like he’d been struck. “Oh ouch, that hits close to home,” he said. He paused, head cocked to measure the guy’s reaction and was slightly disappointed when there wasn’t one. He shrugged and said, “Maybe you waited for Pomp and Circumstance to play, but just barely.”
“Your point being?” Reid said.
Brian smiled solicitously. “I’m always open for a few masters classes if you’re interested in broadening his skills.”
“I’m a big proponent of home schooling,” Reid said, and Brian actually laughed.
Watching Reid and Brian from over Justin’s shoulder, Luke looked more than a little nervous. “Oh boy,” he said, anxiously biting his bottom lip.
Justin, who had affably explained to a fascinated Luke what was Brian was doing, followed Luke’s eyes and huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry. Brian won’t make a scene.”
“I would love to say that about the guy he’s talking to,” Luke said. “Is he really going to just point blank ask him to have sex?” Luke leaned in close with a scandalized whisper.
“He really is,” Justin said.
“He just goes up to people and propositions them?” Luke said. The shock looked on his face morphed into a mix of admiration and disbelief. “He’s not afraid someone will go off on him?”
Justin’s smile was sweet if a little condescending. “We are at an event sponsored by a foundation dedicated to gay rights,” he pointed out. “This is probably one of the safer venues for cruising.”
Luke nodded, but he was clearly focusing on what was happening between Brian and the other man.
“You want to make this interesting?” Justin said. “Brian’s skills are pretty legendary, I’ll warn you up front, but how about, I bet a $5,000 donation to the Foundation that Brian pulls him in the next ten minutes.”
“That’s probably not a fair bet,” Luke said apologetically. “Reid and I… I mean, the guy, Reid, he’s, um, seeing someone.”
It took the creeping blush on Luke’s cheeks for the realization to dawn. Justin nodded, wrinkling his nose in chagrinned understanding. “And you would be the someone, right?” Justin said.
Luke gave an embarrassed chuckle and nodded, flashing his eyes around to see if anyone could hear them.
“I’m surprised,” Justin said.
“Surprised?” Luke echoed.
Justin shrugged. “Your foundation is all about furthering gay rights, but you’re in a closeted relationship? It doesn’t…”
“Oh, no, no,” Luke said, realization dawning. “I mean, we’re not… oh, God, this is embarrassing to explain. Reid’s a surgeon, and the Foundation is involved in a new project at the hospital for the department he heads up, and we’ve been, um… encouraged, I guess, to be discrete...avoid the impression of impropriety and all that.”
Justin grinned at him. “Really?” He poked Luke’s chest. “So there’s a bit of a rebel in there, isn’t there?”
Luke laughed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I might tear off a mattress tag now and then, but that’s about as daring as I get.” He shrugged and watched Reid for a moment. “Reid says he knew he was gay when he was a fetus and emerged from the womb out and proud. He’s fearless.”
“Mmm, I know the type,” Justin said.
“You’re the type!” Luke said, with an incredulous laugh. “When I think of everything you’ve done, everything you do I’m just amazed and…”
Brian gracefully strolled by then. “Flattery’s a good start,” he said, leaning in close to speak the words right into Luke’s ear. “But if I were you, I’d lead with the multi-million dollar trust fund.”
Justin expected Luke to blush, stammer and run off again, but instead he quirked an eyebrow at Justin and said in a deep voice, “Wanna take a ride in my helicopter?”
Justin laughed and even Brian smiled in approval. And there was no way Justin would have assumed Luke and Reid’s relationship was closeted the way Reid was suddenly looming over them. He was a good foot away from Luke but everything about him-the way he stood, the way he looked from Brian to Justin to Luke, the way his chin lifted in silent challenge-all of it screamed his possession of Luke.
Reid introduced himself to Justin, complemented his speech and then said, “I’m a neurosurgeon…”
“Funny, I assumed Infectious Diseases,” Brian said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Reid replied. He turned back to Justin. “Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions about your brain injury?”
Justin looked mildly surprised as his eyes flashed over to Brian for a second before he nodded at Reid. “Sure,” he said.
“When you were describing what happened, you mimicked being struck on the right side of your head, and yet your right hand is the one that was affected?”
“You think we’re mistaken about what happened?” Brian asked, bristling.
“I’m thinking a 12 year old who’s seen a crayon drawing of a brain on Wikipedia would at least initially assume an injury to the right side of the brain would affect the left side of the body,” Reid said. “I’m simply curious…”
Brian was breathing heavily through is nose. “We are not here to pony up details to relieve your fucking curiosity…”
Justin stepped into Brian’s space, his back just touching Brian’s chest. “It was a contra coup injury,” Justin said calmly.
“And were you informed about surgical remedies to improve the condition of your hand?” Reid asked.
“How about if we’re interested in a medical consult we make an appointment?” Brian said, and it was the first time that day that Reid had actually seen him look engaged in anything that was happening around him.
“Brian,” Justin’s tone was soothing. He shook his head at Reid’s question. “Not really,” he said. “My neurologist felt that since the damage was so specifically located to my hand it would be nearly impossible to surgically pinpoint the area to correct, and at the time, they felt like occupational therapy would redirect the wiring, and I’d be as good as new.”
“Didn’t work though, did it?” Reid said sympathetically and Justin shook his head no.
“But you heard the inspiring speech,” Brian said. “Our brave young artist found new ways of expressing himself, the art world shit itself over their newest prodigal son, and we all lived happily ever after.” His eyes hardened, and he dropped the facetious air. “The end,” he said pointedly.
“A lot has changed in the last, what, seven, eight years,” Reid said. “Mappings of the brain are more refined, pre-surgical testing can significantly increase the chances of successful outcomes. Most importantly, now you know me. I can do for you what no other surgeons would even try.”
“You get paid by the brain or something?” Brian asked. “I know hospitals are worried about the new healthcare Armageddon, but I wouldn’t think it’s come to surgeons soliciting for work like an Amway representative.”
Reid fished a business card out of his suit pocket and handed it to Justin. “I’ll offer a twenty percent discount if you come alone,” he said. He smiled at Luke. “I’m going to refill my plate. You want anything?”
“What are the chances of something on your plate making it all the way back to me?” Luke asked.
“Zero,” Reid said, as though Luke really should have known that without asking.
“Then nothing thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Reid said and headed back to the food.
Brian watched him with a sour look on his face, but before he could say anything, his cell phone buzzed. He flipped his phone open and headed out to the hall to talk. “Theodore, if you’re calling to tell me anything other than the Bianco account is in the bag, I will fucking string you up by your…”
Luke made an exaggerated face of relief. “Whew, that’s a lot of testosterone for a tight space,” he said. “I hope Reid didn’t make you uncomfortable. He’s kind of hyper focused when it comes to all things brain-related.”
Justin laughed. “I can appreciate that,” he said. “Brian’s kind of hyper focused when it comes to all things cock-related.” Luke laughed and blushed all at once. Justin leaned in and said, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“N-n-no,” Luke said, then laughed good-naturedly at his stammer. “Seriously,” he said. “You didn’t. Reid says it’s just that I’m part Amish.”
Justin laughed. “Haven’t you spent time in Chicago?” he asked. “It’s not that far, and I imagine a big city like that would have pretty amazing queer culture.”
“Something always seems to keep me close to home,” Luke said, but Justin couldn’t detect any real regret in his tone. “And anyway, I guess I was so intent on dealing with the political aspects of being gay that I never really experienced the more… uh… “
“Recreational?” Grinning, Justin tried to help him find the word he was looking for.
“Enjoyable,” Luke said at the same time, grinning back. “…parts of it.”
“You’re young,” Justin said, fondly. “And if you’re anything like me and a whole host of other gay guys I know, you’ll deal a lot of different ways before you find what fits you best.”
“Yeah?” Luke said, and he did sound wistful this time. Justin remembered being younger and longing for a sense of certainty about himself.
“Yeah,” Justin said confidently. “Take Brian, he’s a living well is the best revenge kind of guy. He’s not very political, unless I poke him really hard with a really sharp stick, and even that's no guarantee that he’ll be moved to do more than throw some money at the issue. He feels like the more money he has, the less he has to answer to the homophobic rabble, which is kind of depressingly true a lot of the time. Most of the time.”
“But you don’t just throw money at problems,” Luke said. “You do so much more than that…”
“Yeah, I do,” Justin said. “I still feel like the more voices you have in unison the louder that voice is. And some rights are so universal, it’s not enough to buy just yourself out of the ones that are denied you.” He shrugged and said, “I still struggle with the line between passion and militancy, with how much of my art has to be for some higher cause, with just wanting to chuck the whole thing when another fucking proposition passes. But I deal by trying to change things.”
“Reid is, like, the life I live is all the testament I owe,” Luke said. “He has this totally incontrovertible sense of integrity about, like, everything-not just his identity as a gay man, but like, how he buys a cup of coffee or gets the mail.” Luke shrugged. “Gay isn’t something he deals with, it’s just what he is.”
Justin chuckled. “Living with someone that well-adjusted would bug the shit out of me.”
Luke laughed. “I wish I was more like him. Some days I feel like I’m gay before I’m anything else-before I’m a guy or a son or a grandson or a friend. I don’t think it’s supposed to be that way.”
Justin nodded in understanding. “I don’t think you’ll feel that way forever,” he said. “It’s easy when you first come out to let that one part of you define you, easy for it to overwhelm every other part of who you are.”
“Yeah,” Luke said, relieved that Justin had managed to articulate the feelings he couldn’t quite express.
“It’s always there to some extent,” Justin said. “In the art world, I’m gay artist Justin Taylor, regardless of the subject of the piece I’m presenting. There’s not a lot of homophobia to it, but it’s still this rigid identity that’s forced onto my work. I could draw a picture of dogs playing poker, and it’s still a piece by gay artist Justin Taylor. Are the dogs gay? Are the cards a metaphor for being gay? Hats on dogs are a commentary on something gay, right? Are the cigars the dogs smoking phallic symbols?”
Luke laughed. “I used to think I was going to be a writer,” he said. “And I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I was going to avoid being pigeonholed as a gay writer. Like, if I didn’t, everything I wrote was going to have to be gay-themed or something.”
“What'd you come up with?” Justin asked.
Luke waved away the question with a laugh. “Never did figure it out,” he said. “I spent the rest of my time practicing my Pulitzer acceptance speech, so I never actually got a lot of writing done.” He glanced down at his watch. “Hey, you’ve got a half hour before you need to leave for the airport. If we’re lucky, Hurricane Reid might have left us a crumb or two.”
They headed over to the buffet, but Luke stopped short before they got there, reaching out and halting Justin with a hand to his arm. “Justin?” he said earnestly.
“Yeah?” Justin said.
“The cigars are phallic symbols, aren’t they?”
Justin laughed, and pushed Luke toward the plates. “I’m gay artist Justin Taylor! Of course they are!”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A half hour later, Luke was shaking Justin’s hand as he and Brian were waiting for the car to take them to the airport. “Thank you again for coming,” Luke said, shaking Justin’s hand. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to revisit what happened…”
“Yes, he’s a brave, brave soldier in the war against homophobia,” Brian said as if he could barely stand to hear what had no doubt been said many times before ad nauseum.
Luke laughed and offered his hand to Brian who shook it slowly, rubbing his thumb along the side of Luke’s hand. “I’ll make sure to stop in the next time you’re meeting with Kinney Advertising,” he said. Releasing Luke’s hand, Brian moved like he was going to shake Reid’s hand, but instead grabbed the back of Reid’s neck and yanked him close for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He roughly pushed Reid back when he was done, quirking a single brow in challenge.
“Really?” was all Reid said.
Brian and Justin were both snickering as they left.
Luke turned toward Reid with a bright smile. “Is it just me or is Justin’s ass totally amazing?”
Reid smirked back. “I thought the dishy girlfriend stage of our relationship was years away,” he said.
Luke graced him with an over-the-top look of adoration. “Oh my God, do you really think we’re going to be dishy girlfriends one day?”
Reid made a show of looking at his watch. “I’ve been Bob’s trained seal all afternoon,” he said. “You know what that means.” He cocked his head toward the door and headed out.
“I don’t think it’s healthy the way you associate our having sex with somehow sticking it to Bob Hughes,” Luke said, dutifully following Reid out to his car.
“Do you really care if you end up happily laid?” Reid asked.
“No,” Luke answered, sounding ashamed. Reid laughed and glanced at Luke over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at Luke’s exaggerated posture of remorse.
Luke started laughing too and jogged to catch up to Reid. His hands were in his pockets, but he bumped his shoulder against Reid’s, letting his head follow in a gesture of catlike affection. “Do you wish I had experience with someone like Brian before you and I got together?” he asked.
“No,” Reid said, frown and tone both indicating he thought it a stupid question. He might tease Luke about his modest sexual resume, but he was rather charmed by it.
“Really?” Luke said, and it irritated Reid how perfectly Luke could stop just this side of coy.
Reid gave him a bored once over before pressing the button to unlock the car. “You’re a surprisingly quick study,” he said blandly. “Let’s just say I’m pleased with your progress.”
The answer amused Luke, who ducked his head and smiled. “Do you ever wish we had an open relationship like they do?”
“No,” Reid said.
Luke was grinning as they got in the car, and he leaned over to try and catch Reid’s eye. Struggling not to smile, Reid managed to avoid Luke’s gaze with some inordinate interest in the radio settings. “Aren’t you going to ask me the same thing?” Luke finally asked.
Reid started the car and revved the engine a couple of times before peeling out of the parking lot. He smiled at Luke and settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. “Nope,” he said.
Luke’s delighted laughter made him laugh as well.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Justin had been quiet on the ride to the airport, and Brian wasn’t surprised that when he finally spoke as they headed toward the security gate, he said, “Do you think I should make an appointment with Dr. Oliver?”
“I think your brain is a frightening enough place safely housed in your skull. Why open it up just so Dr. Jekyll can mess around to stroke his God complex?”
Justin shrugged. “Every time I try a detailed, free-hand piece, and my hand doesn’t cooperate…For a second or two, it hits me like it did the very first time it happened.”
Brian pretended to be interested in straightening the cuffs of his shirt. “So stop trying to draw detailed free-hand pieces,” he said, the lightness of his tone belying how serious he was.
Justin smiled at him, touched and sympathetic, and Brian refused to glance his way until the smarmy look was off his face. “Good idea,” Justin said. “And you can stop trying to pull tricks whenever we go to charity foundation fund raisers.”
Brian groaned when they turned the corner and saw the line for security. “I’d wonder how the fuck an airport this size could have a security line so long, but if I was stuck in this burg, I’d be desperate to leave too,” he said. He cast Justin a sidewise glare, eyebrow lifted. “For all Dr. Cool didn’t want to engage, he did let slip that his twink has a corporate jet.”
Justin sniffed at that. “Twinkdom officially ends at 25,” he said, sounding bored.
“Twink is a state of mind,” Brian said thoughtfully. “Why, in my vast, vast experience…”
“God, if you’re going to pontificate, I’m going to need a drink or twenty first,” Justin said, craning his neck to see if he could see a bar inside the gate.
“You have no compassion,” Brian said. “Ten hours in this podunk town, and my dick is dry as a desert.”
“Look around. You can probably entice someone to blow you in the line.”
Brian’s questioning eyebrow moved even further up his forehead. “Probably?”
It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes later when a passenger came running through the jet way. He had no luggage and was laughing into his phone. “Don’t leave, I’m almost to the door,” Brian heard him say. He was wearing a white t-shirt with a crimson design on the right shoulder, and when Justin saw him he jumped and sucked in a startled gasp of air. Instinctively he turned away, hunched in on himself as if to protect against a blow. Brian just as instinctively moved in behind him to provide cover.
They were both still for a beat; neither the person in line in front of them or behind took any notice. Brian hugged Justin from behind, securing Justin’s back to his chest until eventually Justin’s racing heart beat calmed down and matched Brian’s. Brian waited for the minute shivers to finally stop, then leaned down and whispered wetly into Justin’s ear, “A hundred dollars and you blow me on the plane if I can make the TSA guy look at my crotch before he hands my ID back,” Brian said.
Justin’s laugh was shaky as he reached up to wipe the beads of perspiration from his upper lip. His smile was warm, though, when he said, “And what do I get if he looks at mine?”
“That’s what we call Tuesday, Sunshine,” Brian said. “A sucker’s bet for sure.”
“Yeah?” Justin said, rubbing Brian’s arm with his chin.
“Candy from a baby,” Brian said smoothly.
They were sitting at their gate awhile later; Brian reading Ad Age and Justin sitting with his computer on his lap. He still hadn’t turned it on when he softly said, “Brian?”
“Mm?”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Brian said, acting like he couldn’t be assed to look up from his magazine. “That’s what you say after you blow me.”
#
Author: Myrna1_2_3
Fandom: As the World Turns
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Reid (and from QAF Brian/Justin)
Rating: R
Summary: Justin comes to speak at a Foundation fundraiser.
Disclaimer: Not-not-mine
Author’s Notes: For susanderavish! Happy early or late birthday! Humble apologies for anything I got wrong in the QAF universe-it’s really hard to find YouTube clips of anything but Justin and Brian in flagrante delicto, so I may have lost their voices in the years since the series went off the air.
Reid Oliver stood glowering in the corner of the Snyder Foundation Reception Hall. He couldn’t imagine a more egregious way of spending a Saturday afternoon than trussed up in a suit and forced to listen to sappy, Up With People, Little Engine That Could tales of overcoming homophobia and other natural disasters. Bob Hughes was going to rue the day; yes, rue the very day he…
“I don’t mean to be… critical,” Luke lied as he slid up next to Reid. “But is there any way you could look just slightly less homicidal?”
“Let’s review,” Reid said tightly. “My options today were operating on a 30 year old who slammed his motorcycle into a highway median or flapping my gums with a bunch of overmonied do-gooders who want their asses kissed for giving money to charity because they’re too damned uptight to actually get their asses kissed, which is all they really want. If you ask me and our poor accident victim, Bob Hughes is the murderous one.” Reid glared at Luke, daring him to disagree.
Luke sighed. “I tuned out at Let’s review,” he admitted with a shrug. “Maybe Bob was trying to do a nice thing-you know, give us the opportunity to spend some time together…”
“So long as we pretend you don’t ride my cock on a regular basis,” Reid muttered.
“You’re so dreamy,” Luke said, hugging himself in faux delight.
“You said there would be food,” Reid said, nodding toward the empty buffet table.
“It’s coming,” Luke said. “I made sure they’re serving those bacon scallop things you like.”
“And the crab puffs?”
“Yes,” Luke said patiently.
“And the good canapés?”
“Like you would recognize a bad one?” Luke answered. He was craning his neck toward the door, searching for one of the speakers who’d presented earlier. Luke been looking forward to the day’s events since his foundation had booked the speaker a month earlier. Reid had never heard of him, but then why would he?
His name was Justin Taylor and he was an artist by trade, known mostly for a series of graphic novels, made famous, ironically, by his refusal to sell the rights to Hollywood for a movie adaptation. According to Luke, Taylor also created more traditional artwork that hung in several galleries in New York and Pittsburgh of all places. He had been injured in a gay-bashing when he was a teenager and had since been an active and public voice for gay rights. Luke’s foundation had been trying for several years to engage him to speak, but Taylor’s schedule was crowded, and it had never been feasible before.
Reid had been surprised when he caught his first glimpse of Taylor. He looked Luke’s age if not younger, though Reid had read the canned bio that said he was in his late twenties. He was dressed in khakis and an old shirt that made him looked like he painted houses for a living, not $500,000 works of art.
He’d arrived with another man, his partner if the juicy kiss he received before heading to the podium to speak was any indication. His partner was tall and dark, dressed in a suit someone who wasn’t Reid would probably recognize as designer. Reid knew it was expensive, as, no doubt, were his shoes, shirt and tie. The look on his face as he had scoped out the room was a mix of boredom and irritation.
“Sing it, Sister,” Reid had thought glumly.
Justin Taylor’s was the only speech that day Reid had been remotely interested in, mostly because the poor guy had suffered a closed head injury as the result of a baseball bat to the side of his head. He’d spoken dispassionately about the attack and its aftermath-which had included brain damage that rendered his drawing hand ineffectual-and Reid had been fascinated by the reaction from his partner. Before Justin spoke, the partner had been a study of torturous boredom, but during Justin’s speech the boredom was hardly visible beneath the clear agitation. He swiped at his upper lip, fidgeted with his tie, tugged at his nose.
Reid had found himself oddly sympathetic, remembering how hard it had been to hear Luke’s story of the camping trip with Noah’s father that ended with his temporary paralysis.
As he’d listened, Reid had fondly shaken his head at Luke’s look of rapt attention. Luke didn’t see any parallels between Justin’s story and his own, somehow admiring in Justin’s experience the strength and determination that led to his eventual political activism and yet blind to the very same thing in his own.
Now, waiting for Justin to arrive in the banquet room, Luke was as nervous as a school girl waiting for the appearance of a boy band. When Justin walked in, Luke grabbed Reid’s arm, nearly upsetting his drink. “There he is! There he is!” Luke whispered.
“Stop yanking on me,” Reid said, elbowing Luke away.
“I’m going to go over there, okay?” Luke said, straightening his tie. “That’s okay, right? The Foundation sponsored the event, if I don’t go over there, I’m being rude and I don’t want to be rude, so I’m going to go over there. Okay? That’s okay, right? God! Shut up!”
Reid’s mouth had been open to speak, but Luke was gone before he said anything. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he headed over to the buffet table where the waiters were finally setting out some food.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Thanks so much for coming,” Luke said by way of greeting Justin. “I’m Luke Snyder.”
“Justin Taylor,” Justin said shaking his hand. “This is my partner, Brian Kinney.”
Luke enthusiastically shook Justin’s hand and then Brian’s. “Thank you so much for coming,” Luke said again. “We’re so glad to have you.”
“Thank you so much for the exorbitant speakers fee,” Brian said, earning him a sidewise look from Justin. “Oh wait, that’s right. There isn’t one!”
“Well, to be fair, I did offer one,” Luke said amicably. “It was very kindly refused so it could be funneled back in to the Foundation.”
“You offered one?” Brian said, eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Luke shrugged and explained. “My foundation, my offer.”
Brian nodded slowly, but wasn’t necessarily buying it. “I thought the Foundation was started by the head of Grimaldi Shipping,” he said, casting a doubtful glance at Luke, who shrugged again, looking embarrassed.
“That’s me,” he said lightly. He cocked his head, as if listening to something in the distance. “Wait, Brian Kinney,” he said. “That name sounds familiar.”
“Kinney Advertising,” Brian said, pulling out a business card with a logo Luke recognized. “We signed on to Grimaldi Shipping last year.”
“Kinney Advertising!” Luke said. “Of course! Do you know our revenues increased six percent after the business-to-business campaign your firm put together? I wanted to push the consumer side, but concentrating on the business end turned out to be the right idea.”
Brian’s distant smile turned charming. “I would have handled the deal personally if I’d known our paths were going to cross,” he said.
Luke laughed good naturedly. “Don’t worry. I know we’ll never generate the kind of revenue that has the CEO sitting at the negotiating table.”
Brian rocked back on his heels then, head back as an epiphany hit. “Okay, now I get it,” he said, more to himself than Luke.
“Pardon me?” Luke asked.
Brian shook his head. “Nothing. Just something my account exec said when he came back from your presentation. Something along the lines of I would have really enjoyed the head of Grimaldi.” He smiled wolfishly at Luke, or more accurately, at Luke’s mouth. “I can only agree,” Brian said, leaning in close and half-whispering the words.
Luke blushed dark red and cast his eyes nervously around the room. “I better… um, I’m going to just… go over there now,” he said, flustered, and scampered toward the rest room.
Justin lifted a sardonic brow at Brian. “Must you scare the children?” he asked.
“It’s good for him,” Brian said. “I’m guessing Bo Duke doesn’t get cruised very often here in Farmdale or wherever the hell we are.”
Justin gave him a doubtful glance that made Brian grimace in irritation. “You fucking know who Bo Duke is,” he said.
“Mm, bet he doesn’t,” Justin said.
Brian sighed sadly. “I thought you were going to be more sensitive about my fragile feelings as 40 creeps closer and closer and closer…”
“No, that would be Michael,” Justin said. “I appreciate, by the way, your having him send me suggestions for ways to ease you into your next year. The pictures were especially helpful.”
“It’s so important to have good friends.”
“Brian?” Justin’s voice was oozing patience which was never a good thing.
“Yes?” Brian answered in kind.
“You’re hovering.”
“I don’t hover.”
“You’re hovering,” Justin said. “Go blow off some steam.”
Brian cast his eyes are around the room. “None of these geriatric cases are whetting my appetite,” he said. “You should have brought Emmett instead of forcing me along.”
“Don’t even try,” Justin said. “I try to book one of these single-day speaking gigs, and you act like I’m committing some unspeakable crime.” He looked around the room and paused at a man who was meticulously scouring the buffet line with an already impressively loaded plate. “He’s hot,” Justin said, lifting his chin toward the man.
“He won’t be for long if he eats like that all the time,” Brian said. Still, the guy looked fit, had a good head of hair and seemed to project enough attitude to pass an interesting few minutes. “Fine, I’ll go, but only because you tell me to.”
Justin snorted and caught Luke’s eye, motioning for him to come back over.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Brian approached the man as he exited the buffet line. “I know something else you could be doing that actually burns calories rather than consumes them,” he said. “Well, aside from a little protein injection.”
“No, I’m good,” the guy said around a mouthful of bacon-wrapped scallop. Brian glanced at the man’s name tag which identified him as Reid Oliver, MD, and gave his affiliation as the Foundation Hospital Project.
“You could be better,” Brian promised.
"Yeah, I could be somewhere else," Reid said.
Brian smiled. "As long as you're here, you might as well treat yourself to something other than clogged arteries."
“What do you want?” Reid asked irritably.
“Christ, what’s wrong with you-it’s not brain surgery, Einstein. What do you think I want?”
“Well, tell you what,” Reid said amicably. “Why don’t I give the hospital a call, check the penicillin supply and get back to you?”
“Yes or no works fine,” Brian said dryly.
“Okay then, no,” Reid said.
“No,” Brian repeated. “You’re saying no?”
“Yes.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Why?” he said. “Do you see anyone else here even remotely deserving of my time?”
Reid coughed in disbelief, “You really want me to stand here and list all of the reasons why I don’t want to have sex with you?”
“There’s a list?” Brian said. “All I can imagine is One: You’re a eunuch.”
“That being the only thing you can imagine?” Reid said with a smirk. “Is actually reason number eight why I’m not interested. Number eight.”
“You want to make this interesting?” Brian said. “What if, assuming I get off, I offer a check for $25,000 to the Foundation Hospital Project?”
“How about I offer a check for $30,000, and you keep your clothes on?”
“Thirty-five?” Brian said.
Reid looked thoughtful for all of a second. “You know what’s ironic about all of this is that my boss really is worried that I’m sleeping with someone to get money for the project. Which almost pisses me off enough to sleep with someone to get money for the project, but, again, I’m going to have to…”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, if we’d just fucking left when I asked, it’d already be over.”
“That’s reason number six I’m not interested, by the way,” Reid said with a polite smile.
Brian sighed sadly. “Didn’t someone say once if you only have a short time to live, visit Oakdale and it’ll seem like a lifetime?”
“Probably me,” Reid said.
“So what brought you to God’s gift to barn yard animals?” Brian asked.
Reid shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he said. “Trickery, lies, blackmail, a court order, and the opportunity to perform a miracle mere mortals couldn’t even comprehend much less execute.”
“I thought it was a red letter day when I finally got the fuck out of Pittsburgh,” Brian said, shaking his head in horror. “What the hell kind of spontaneous ejaculations do you have when you get to blow this place?”
“You’re in sad straights when you’re in no position to make fun of Pittsburgh,” Reid said, stuffing an entire canapé in his mouth. Motioning with his chin over Brian’s shoulder, Reid said, “Isn’t that more your speed?”
Brian glanced over his shoulder at Luke who had returned to fangirl all over Justin. “I’ve already had a helping of that today,” Brian said with a lazy grin. Something about the way Reid’s eyes lingered over Luke made Brian roll his eyes in sudden understanding. He snickered with it-takes-one-to-know-one amusement.
Almost against his will, Reid quirked an inquiring brow at him.
“There’s something to be said for bagging them before any bad habits take root, isn’t there?” Brian said. “Get to train ‘em from the ground up. The emotional attachment can be troublesome but a blow job performed to your ideal specifications makes up for a lot of that.”
Reid heaved an irritated sigh. “You know, it’s not like I was trolling high schools and lured him to my car with the promise of a juice box,” he said.
Brian winced like he’d been struck. “Oh ouch, that hits close to home,” he said. He paused, head cocked to measure the guy’s reaction and was slightly disappointed when there wasn’t one. He shrugged and said, “Maybe you waited for Pomp and Circumstance to play, but just barely.”
“Your point being?” Reid said.
Brian smiled solicitously. “I’m always open for a few masters classes if you’re interested in broadening his skills.”
“I’m a big proponent of home schooling,” Reid said, and Brian actually laughed.
Watching Reid and Brian from over Justin’s shoulder, Luke looked more than a little nervous. “Oh boy,” he said, anxiously biting his bottom lip.
Justin, who had affably explained to a fascinated Luke what was Brian was doing, followed Luke’s eyes and huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry. Brian won’t make a scene.”
“I would love to say that about the guy he’s talking to,” Luke said. “Is he really going to just point blank ask him to have sex?” Luke leaned in close with a scandalized whisper.
“He really is,” Justin said.
“He just goes up to people and propositions them?” Luke said. The shock looked on his face morphed into a mix of admiration and disbelief. “He’s not afraid someone will go off on him?”
Justin’s smile was sweet if a little condescending. “We are at an event sponsored by a foundation dedicated to gay rights,” he pointed out. “This is probably one of the safer venues for cruising.”
Luke nodded, but he was clearly focusing on what was happening between Brian and the other man.
“You want to make this interesting?” Justin said. “Brian’s skills are pretty legendary, I’ll warn you up front, but how about, I bet a $5,000 donation to the Foundation that Brian pulls him in the next ten minutes.”
“That’s probably not a fair bet,” Luke said apologetically. “Reid and I… I mean, the guy, Reid, he’s, um, seeing someone.”
It took the creeping blush on Luke’s cheeks for the realization to dawn. Justin nodded, wrinkling his nose in chagrinned understanding. “And you would be the someone, right?” Justin said.
Luke gave an embarrassed chuckle and nodded, flashing his eyes around to see if anyone could hear them.
“I’m surprised,” Justin said.
“Surprised?” Luke echoed.
Justin shrugged. “Your foundation is all about furthering gay rights, but you’re in a closeted relationship? It doesn’t…”
“Oh, no, no,” Luke said, realization dawning. “I mean, we’re not… oh, God, this is embarrassing to explain. Reid’s a surgeon, and the Foundation is involved in a new project at the hospital for the department he heads up, and we’ve been, um… encouraged, I guess, to be discrete...avoid the impression of impropriety and all that.”
Justin grinned at him. “Really?” He poked Luke’s chest. “So there’s a bit of a rebel in there, isn’t there?”
Luke laughed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I might tear off a mattress tag now and then, but that’s about as daring as I get.” He shrugged and watched Reid for a moment. “Reid says he knew he was gay when he was a fetus and emerged from the womb out and proud. He’s fearless.”
“Mmm, I know the type,” Justin said.
“You’re the type!” Luke said, with an incredulous laugh. “When I think of everything you’ve done, everything you do I’m just amazed and…”
Brian gracefully strolled by then. “Flattery’s a good start,” he said, leaning in close to speak the words right into Luke’s ear. “But if I were you, I’d lead with the multi-million dollar trust fund.”
Justin expected Luke to blush, stammer and run off again, but instead he quirked an eyebrow at Justin and said in a deep voice, “Wanna take a ride in my helicopter?”
Justin laughed and even Brian smiled in approval. And there was no way Justin would have assumed Luke and Reid’s relationship was closeted the way Reid was suddenly looming over them. He was a good foot away from Luke but everything about him-the way he stood, the way he looked from Brian to Justin to Luke, the way his chin lifted in silent challenge-all of it screamed his possession of Luke.
Reid introduced himself to Justin, complemented his speech and then said, “I’m a neurosurgeon…”
“Funny, I assumed Infectious Diseases,” Brian said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Reid replied. He turned back to Justin. “Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions about your brain injury?”
Justin looked mildly surprised as his eyes flashed over to Brian for a second before he nodded at Reid. “Sure,” he said.
“When you were describing what happened, you mimicked being struck on the right side of your head, and yet your right hand is the one that was affected?”
“You think we’re mistaken about what happened?” Brian asked, bristling.
“I’m thinking a 12 year old who’s seen a crayon drawing of a brain on Wikipedia would at least initially assume an injury to the right side of the brain would affect the left side of the body,” Reid said. “I’m simply curious…”
Brian was breathing heavily through is nose. “We are not here to pony up details to relieve your fucking curiosity…”
Justin stepped into Brian’s space, his back just touching Brian’s chest. “It was a contra coup injury,” Justin said calmly.
“And were you informed about surgical remedies to improve the condition of your hand?” Reid asked.
“How about if we’re interested in a medical consult we make an appointment?” Brian said, and it was the first time that day that Reid had actually seen him look engaged in anything that was happening around him.
“Brian,” Justin’s tone was soothing. He shook his head at Reid’s question. “Not really,” he said. “My neurologist felt that since the damage was so specifically located to my hand it would be nearly impossible to surgically pinpoint the area to correct, and at the time, they felt like occupational therapy would redirect the wiring, and I’d be as good as new.”
“Didn’t work though, did it?” Reid said sympathetically and Justin shook his head no.
“But you heard the inspiring speech,” Brian said. “Our brave young artist found new ways of expressing himself, the art world shit itself over their newest prodigal son, and we all lived happily ever after.” His eyes hardened, and he dropped the facetious air. “The end,” he said pointedly.
“A lot has changed in the last, what, seven, eight years,” Reid said. “Mappings of the brain are more refined, pre-surgical testing can significantly increase the chances of successful outcomes. Most importantly, now you know me. I can do for you what no other surgeons would even try.”
“You get paid by the brain or something?” Brian asked. “I know hospitals are worried about the new healthcare Armageddon, but I wouldn’t think it’s come to surgeons soliciting for work like an Amway representative.”
Reid fished a business card out of his suit pocket and handed it to Justin. “I’ll offer a twenty percent discount if you come alone,” he said. He smiled at Luke. “I’m going to refill my plate. You want anything?”
“What are the chances of something on your plate making it all the way back to me?” Luke asked.
“Zero,” Reid said, as though Luke really should have known that without asking.
“Then nothing thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Reid said and headed back to the food.
Brian watched him with a sour look on his face, but before he could say anything, his cell phone buzzed. He flipped his phone open and headed out to the hall to talk. “Theodore, if you’re calling to tell me anything other than the Bianco account is in the bag, I will fucking string you up by your…”
Luke made an exaggerated face of relief. “Whew, that’s a lot of testosterone for a tight space,” he said. “I hope Reid didn’t make you uncomfortable. He’s kind of hyper focused when it comes to all things brain-related.”
Justin laughed. “I can appreciate that,” he said. “Brian’s kind of hyper focused when it comes to all things cock-related.” Luke laughed and blushed all at once. Justin leaned in and said, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“N-n-no,” Luke said, then laughed good-naturedly at his stammer. “Seriously,” he said. “You didn’t. Reid says it’s just that I’m part Amish.”
Justin laughed. “Haven’t you spent time in Chicago?” he asked. “It’s not that far, and I imagine a big city like that would have pretty amazing queer culture.”
“Something always seems to keep me close to home,” Luke said, but Justin couldn’t detect any real regret in his tone. “And anyway, I guess I was so intent on dealing with the political aspects of being gay that I never really experienced the more… uh… “
“Recreational?” Grinning, Justin tried to help him find the word he was looking for.
“Enjoyable,” Luke said at the same time, grinning back. “…parts of it.”
“You’re young,” Justin said, fondly. “And if you’re anything like me and a whole host of other gay guys I know, you’ll deal a lot of different ways before you find what fits you best.”
“Yeah?” Luke said, and he did sound wistful this time. Justin remembered being younger and longing for a sense of certainty about himself.
“Yeah,” Justin said confidently. “Take Brian, he’s a living well is the best revenge kind of guy. He’s not very political, unless I poke him really hard with a really sharp stick, and even that's no guarantee that he’ll be moved to do more than throw some money at the issue. He feels like the more money he has, the less he has to answer to the homophobic rabble, which is kind of depressingly true a lot of the time. Most of the time.”
“But you don’t just throw money at problems,” Luke said. “You do so much more than that…”
“Yeah, I do,” Justin said. “I still feel like the more voices you have in unison the louder that voice is. And some rights are so universal, it’s not enough to buy just yourself out of the ones that are denied you.” He shrugged and said, “I still struggle with the line between passion and militancy, with how much of my art has to be for some higher cause, with just wanting to chuck the whole thing when another fucking proposition passes. But I deal by trying to change things.”
“Reid is, like, the life I live is all the testament I owe,” Luke said. “He has this totally incontrovertible sense of integrity about, like, everything-not just his identity as a gay man, but like, how he buys a cup of coffee or gets the mail.” Luke shrugged. “Gay isn’t something he deals with, it’s just what he is.”
Justin chuckled. “Living with someone that well-adjusted would bug the shit out of me.”
Luke laughed. “I wish I was more like him. Some days I feel like I’m gay before I’m anything else-before I’m a guy or a son or a grandson or a friend. I don’t think it’s supposed to be that way.”
Justin nodded in understanding. “I don’t think you’ll feel that way forever,” he said. “It’s easy when you first come out to let that one part of you define you, easy for it to overwhelm every other part of who you are.”
“Yeah,” Luke said, relieved that Justin had managed to articulate the feelings he couldn’t quite express.
“It’s always there to some extent,” Justin said. “In the art world, I’m gay artist Justin Taylor, regardless of the subject of the piece I’m presenting. There’s not a lot of homophobia to it, but it’s still this rigid identity that’s forced onto my work. I could draw a picture of dogs playing poker, and it’s still a piece by gay artist Justin Taylor. Are the dogs gay? Are the cards a metaphor for being gay? Hats on dogs are a commentary on something gay, right? Are the cigars the dogs smoking phallic symbols?”
Luke laughed. “I used to think I was going to be a writer,” he said. “And I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I was going to avoid being pigeonholed as a gay writer. Like, if I didn’t, everything I wrote was going to have to be gay-themed or something.”
“What'd you come up with?” Justin asked.
Luke waved away the question with a laugh. “Never did figure it out,” he said. “I spent the rest of my time practicing my Pulitzer acceptance speech, so I never actually got a lot of writing done.” He glanced down at his watch. “Hey, you’ve got a half hour before you need to leave for the airport. If we’re lucky, Hurricane Reid might have left us a crumb or two.”
They headed over to the buffet, but Luke stopped short before they got there, reaching out and halting Justin with a hand to his arm. “Justin?” he said earnestly.
“Yeah?” Justin said.
“The cigars are phallic symbols, aren’t they?”
Justin laughed, and pushed Luke toward the plates. “I’m gay artist Justin Taylor! Of course they are!”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A half hour later, Luke was shaking Justin’s hand as he and Brian were waiting for the car to take them to the airport. “Thank you again for coming,” Luke said, shaking Justin’s hand. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to revisit what happened…”
“Yes, he’s a brave, brave soldier in the war against homophobia,” Brian said as if he could barely stand to hear what had no doubt been said many times before ad nauseum.
Luke laughed and offered his hand to Brian who shook it slowly, rubbing his thumb along the side of Luke’s hand. “I’ll make sure to stop in the next time you’re meeting with Kinney Advertising,” he said. Releasing Luke’s hand, Brian moved like he was going to shake Reid’s hand, but instead grabbed the back of Reid’s neck and yanked him close for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. He roughly pushed Reid back when he was done, quirking a single brow in challenge.
“Really?” was all Reid said.
Brian and Justin were both snickering as they left.
Luke turned toward Reid with a bright smile. “Is it just me or is Justin’s ass totally amazing?”
Reid smirked back. “I thought the dishy girlfriend stage of our relationship was years away,” he said.
Luke graced him with an over-the-top look of adoration. “Oh my God, do you really think we’re going to be dishy girlfriends one day?”
Reid made a show of looking at his watch. “I’ve been Bob’s trained seal all afternoon,” he said. “You know what that means.” He cocked his head toward the door and headed out.
“I don’t think it’s healthy the way you associate our having sex with somehow sticking it to Bob Hughes,” Luke said, dutifully following Reid out to his car.
“Do you really care if you end up happily laid?” Reid asked.
“No,” Luke answered, sounding ashamed. Reid laughed and glanced at Luke over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at Luke’s exaggerated posture of remorse.
Luke started laughing too and jogged to catch up to Reid. His hands were in his pockets, but he bumped his shoulder against Reid’s, letting his head follow in a gesture of catlike affection. “Do you wish I had experience with someone like Brian before you and I got together?” he asked.
“No,” Reid said, frown and tone both indicating he thought it a stupid question. He might tease Luke about his modest sexual resume, but he was rather charmed by it.
“Really?” Luke said, and it irritated Reid how perfectly Luke could stop just this side of coy.
Reid gave him a bored once over before pressing the button to unlock the car. “You’re a surprisingly quick study,” he said blandly. “Let’s just say I’m pleased with your progress.”
The answer amused Luke, who ducked his head and smiled. “Do you ever wish we had an open relationship like they do?”
“No,” Reid said.
Luke was grinning as they got in the car, and he leaned over to try and catch Reid’s eye. Struggling not to smile, Reid managed to avoid Luke’s gaze with some inordinate interest in the radio settings. “Aren’t you going to ask me the same thing?” Luke finally asked.
Reid started the car and revved the engine a couple of times before peeling out of the parking lot. He smiled at Luke and settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. “Nope,” he said.
Luke’s delighted laughter made him laugh as well.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Justin had been quiet on the ride to the airport, and Brian wasn’t surprised that when he finally spoke as they headed toward the security gate, he said, “Do you think I should make an appointment with Dr. Oliver?”
“I think your brain is a frightening enough place safely housed in your skull. Why open it up just so Dr. Jekyll can mess around to stroke his God complex?”
Justin shrugged. “Every time I try a detailed, free-hand piece, and my hand doesn’t cooperate…For a second or two, it hits me like it did the very first time it happened.”
Brian pretended to be interested in straightening the cuffs of his shirt. “So stop trying to draw detailed free-hand pieces,” he said, the lightness of his tone belying how serious he was.
Justin smiled at him, touched and sympathetic, and Brian refused to glance his way until the smarmy look was off his face. “Good idea,” Justin said. “And you can stop trying to pull tricks whenever we go to charity foundation fund raisers.”
Brian groaned when they turned the corner and saw the line for security. “I’d wonder how the fuck an airport this size could have a security line so long, but if I was stuck in this burg, I’d be desperate to leave too,” he said. He cast Justin a sidewise glare, eyebrow lifted. “For all Dr. Cool didn’t want to engage, he did let slip that his twink has a corporate jet.”
Justin sniffed at that. “Twinkdom officially ends at 25,” he said, sounding bored.
“Twink is a state of mind,” Brian said thoughtfully. “Why, in my vast, vast experience…”
“God, if you’re going to pontificate, I’m going to need a drink or twenty first,” Justin said, craning his neck to see if he could see a bar inside the gate.
“You have no compassion,” Brian said. “Ten hours in this podunk town, and my dick is dry as a desert.”
“Look around. You can probably entice someone to blow you in the line.”
Brian’s questioning eyebrow moved even further up his forehead. “Probably?”
It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes later when a passenger came running through the jet way. He had no luggage and was laughing into his phone. “Don’t leave, I’m almost to the door,” Brian heard him say. He was wearing a white t-shirt with a crimson design on the right shoulder, and when Justin saw him he jumped and sucked in a startled gasp of air. Instinctively he turned away, hunched in on himself as if to protect against a blow. Brian just as instinctively moved in behind him to provide cover.
They were both still for a beat; neither the person in line in front of them or behind took any notice. Brian hugged Justin from behind, securing Justin’s back to his chest until eventually Justin’s racing heart beat calmed down and matched Brian’s. Brian waited for the minute shivers to finally stop, then leaned down and whispered wetly into Justin’s ear, “A hundred dollars and you blow me on the plane if I can make the TSA guy look at my crotch before he hands my ID back,” Brian said.
Justin’s laugh was shaky as he reached up to wipe the beads of perspiration from his upper lip. His smile was warm, though, when he said, “And what do I get if he looks at mine?”
“That’s what we call Tuesday, Sunshine,” Brian said. “A sucker’s bet for sure.”
“Yeah?” Justin said, rubbing Brian’s arm with his chin.
“Candy from a baby,” Brian said smoothly.
They were sitting at their gate awhile later; Brian reading Ad Age and Justin sitting with his computer on his lap. He still hadn’t turned it on when he softly said, “Brian?”
“Mm?”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Brian said, acting like he couldn’t be assed to look up from his magazine. “That’s what you say after you blow me.”
#