How To: Hitch a Breeder - Step 8/15
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[ previous chapters ]
Step 8: Know Your Goals / Yes. Maybe.
One week later and Brian hadn’t gotten any further.
One week of checking a certain Facebook profile daily, all because of some ridiculous and completely unfounded notion that Justin would set his profile to public one of these days.
But things were going to change now.
Brian straightened his shoulders. “So, Justin, here’s the thing: I need to fuck you,” Brian let the words resonate. “And I need to do this because I probably just have to get it out of my system. So, what do you say?”
Brian waited, but the only answer he got was silence.
“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing his briefcase from the counter and heading out.
His coffee machine used to be such a good conversation partner. If not even Jura-Capresso bought his offer, how the hell was he supposed to pitch this to Justin?
Not that he intended to do that, of course.
+
“Back!” Justin dropped his bag and sat the pizza carton down.
“Extra anchovies, I hope?”
“Of course.”
Jerry opened the box while taking in Justin’s appearance. “You okay?”
“Yeah… yeah, just not sleeping so well currently.”
“Ah.” A string of cheese hung from Jerry’s mouth already.
“So, we finished that website, what else is on the schedule today?” Justin asked, grabbing a can of coke from the mini fridge.
“Well,” Jerry, still in his office chair, rolled himself back to his computer, waving a pizza slice in his hand. “We still gotta finish that other website design for that charity organization at some point, but that’s not really urgent.”
“How so?”
“We’re barely charging them anything, remember? That’s why we left so much leeway.” He clicked through the schedule on his screen. “Right, and by the end of the week, we need to have the designs for those concert posters ready, as well as the big prints for the Zellham gallery.”
Justin yawned. “I finished up those poster designs last night. I didn’t change much, after all. You were right, it was the saturation. I can email the files to them today.”
“Right. Oh, and, Kinnetik called while you were out.”
“They did?” Justin asked with a mouth full of fizzy drink.
“Yeah, they want us to do another job. Some big-shot shoe manufacturer.”
“But we just finished the Zamora job.” Justin felt like that was reason enough. He remembered Ted emailing him about the job. He’d even kind of given him a yes. But it hadn’t been official then. And he hadn’t made out with Brian then. And his life had still been kind of alright then.
“And?” Jerry sunk his teeth into a new slice of greasy pizza and mumbled through a full mouth, “We do have capacities.”
“You already agreed, didn’t you?”
Jerry swallowed. “Of course I did.”
Justin sighed.
“Why the hell would I not? The pay is great and Kinney loves you, apparently.”
Justin choked on his Coke. “What?”
“Yeah, his assistant called with the new commission and mentioned that Kinney is a total fan of your work so far, but that we shouldn’t hold our breaths waiting for him to say so. Something like that.”
“Right.” Justin chewed on his lower lip. “Well, our work.”
“Huh?”
“If anything, he is a fan of our work.”
Jerry laughed. “Shut up, you handled like, 90% of this gig alone. And that’s totally fine, so you can keep those lame placations in your princess-sized purse.”
“It’s not a fucking purse!” Justin barked. “Will you ever stop with this shit? It’s from a men’s store. It’s a bag in a practical size.” Justin fucking loved that bag. It had the perfect fucking size. It was manly, too.
Jerry laughed and tore off a chunk from the cardboard lid. He placed a pizza slice on it, then pushed it into Justin’s direction. “Cynthia’s going to send us the details within the next two days. Here.”
“I get a whole slice? Oh, you’re so good to me,” Justin mocked.
“You know me, I’m a giver. See, I even gave you the slice with the most mushrooms because I care about your vegetable intake.”
+
Stress-eating didn’t suit him, Brian decided, and tossed the falafel into the next sidewalk bin.
He was going to make an appointment with his massage therapist instead. He’d order the deep tissue shit this time. Roman could just fuck off with his stupid microwaved stones. He’d have Cynthia call him later.
An elderly woman glared when he crossed the absolutely car-empty street at red and Brian once more wondered why he’d decided to walk.
The window display of that tacky artistry shop made him stop and shake his head. Orange tulle was just one of the more harmless décor offenses. Brian’s grin vanished when he saw a box of crayola sitting on a tiny scaffold.
Justin used that brand. Brian had seen the same box peeking out of his weirdly sized bag when- nevermind.
He turned around to walk on. But there, right on the corner was a couple leaning against the building, kissing and laughing.
Was that… Daphne?
+
The red flowers looked out of place in the yellow vase, but it didn’t matter.
She’d dosed off a couple of minutes ago, still weak from the sedatives they had pumped into her during the night. Among other things, she broke the vase they always used for the red flowers, the dark one that had accentuated the red nicely. Justin wondered if he should even bother replacing the frames for the pictures of him and Molly.
Sitting by her bed and looking out the window was a very familiar setting for him. Usually, Justin would let his mind wander, but lately, his thought expeditions haven’t been safe.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Brian.
Fuck, he should have just insisted that Jerry canceled on Kinnetik. Then again, Jerry wouldn’t let that go and Justin would have to explain. And explain he could not. It wasn’t like he had a clue himself.
Justin didn’t know who the fuck he was anymore. The only thing he knew was that his two weeks to make a decision about mom were almost over.
+
“And then I see that slut sucking face with the guy!”
“And…?”
“What and?!”
“Well, I’m waiting on the part where you tell me why we are discussing this.”
“Be-cause,” Brian pressed out, waving his hand in front of him. “It means that that girl is cheating on him!” How could Mikey be so obtuse?
“Well, maybe they’re seeing other people, too. Polygamy is not exclusive to gay men, you know.”
“It is in this city.”
“What?” Michael closed the drawer of the cash register and it gave a ping. “You know, this is like, the most worked-up I’ve seen you in forever. Even weirder, it’s because of supposed cheating. Since when the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t care…”
Michael smiled at the air-quotes and did the same. “Uh-huh.”
“It’s just that…” Brian turned away when Mikey’s gaze became too heavy. “Justin isn’t that kind of guy.”
“What kind of guy?”
“He just… he just wouldn’t be…” Brian decided to glare at Mikey for good measure while he searched for words. “Say, even if they had agreed on fucking other people, this was different.”
The glaring didn’t help, Mikey still looked at him through big eyes. “Different how?”
“They were… Daphne and that guy, they were doing that whole lovey-cutesy crap.” Brian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They were leaning against that building, all…”
“All what?” If Mikey didn’t look so clueless, Brian would be convinced that he was enjoying this.
“You know… kissing and… hands together… and giggling…”
“Giggling?”
“Yes, fucking giggling, okay? You know what I mean!”
“I guess.”
“The point is: you don’t do that with a random fuck.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Mikey scratched his chin. “So, what you’re saying is that she’s cheating on him, even by your standards?”
“I guess.”
“So, you do care?”
Yes. Maybe. “No! I just don’t want him getting fucked over like that.” Brian blinked at the wall, then made a beeline for the bean bag sofa and plopped down. He felt exhausted.
Michael just blinked at him. Finally, many moments later, he spoke in wonder, “Christ, Brian.”
Brian rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, I know.”
[ Step 9 ]
[ previous chapters ]
Step 8: Know Your Goals / Yes. Maybe.
One week later and Brian hadn’t gotten any further.
One week of checking a certain Facebook profile daily, all because of some ridiculous and completely unfounded notion that Justin would set his profile to public one of these days.
But things were going to change now.
Brian straightened his shoulders. “So, Justin, here’s the thing: I need to fuck you,” Brian let the words resonate. “And I need to do this because I probably just have to get it out of my system. So, what do you say?”
Brian waited, but the only answer he got was silence.
“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing his briefcase from the counter and heading out.
His coffee machine used to be such a good conversation partner. If not even Jura-Capresso bought his offer, how the hell was he supposed to pitch this to Justin?
Not that he intended to do that, of course.
+
“Back!” Justin dropped his bag and sat the pizza carton down.
“Extra anchovies, I hope?”
“Of course.”
Jerry opened the box while taking in Justin’s appearance. “You okay?”
“Yeah… yeah, just not sleeping so well currently.”
“Ah.” A string of cheese hung from Jerry’s mouth already.
“So, we finished that website, what else is on the schedule today?” Justin asked, grabbing a can of coke from the mini fridge.
“Well,” Jerry, still in his office chair, rolled himself back to his computer, waving a pizza slice in his hand. “We still gotta finish that other website design for that charity organization at some point, but that’s not really urgent.”
“How so?”
“We’re barely charging them anything, remember? That’s why we left so much leeway.” He clicked through the schedule on his screen. “Right, and by the end of the week, we need to have the designs for those concert posters ready, as well as the big prints for the Zellham gallery.”
Justin yawned. “I finished up those poster designs last night. I didn’t change much, after all. You were right, it was the saturation. I can email the files to them today.”
“Right. Oh, and, Kinnetik called while you were out.”
“They did?” Justin asked with a mouth full of fizzy drink.
“Yeah, they want us to do another job. Some big-shot shoe manufacturer.”
“But we just finished the Zamora job.” Justin felt like that was reason enough. He remembered Ted emailing him about the job. He’d even kind of given him a yes. But it hadn’t been official then. And he hadn’t made out with Brian then. And his life had still been kind of alright then.
“And?” Jerry sunk his teeth into a new slice of greasy pizza and mumbled through a full mouth, “We do have capacities.”
“You already agreed, didn’t you?”
Jerry swallowed. “Of course I did.”
Justin sighed.
“Why the hell would I not? The pay is great and Kinney loves you, apparently.”
Justin choked on his Coke. “What?”
“Yeah, his assistant called with the new commission and mentioned that Kinney is a total fan of your work so far, but that we shouldn’t hold our breaths waiting for him to say so. Something like that.”
“Right.” Justin chewed on his lower lip. “Well, our work.”
“Huh?”
“If anything, he is a fan of our work.”
Jerry laughed. “Shut up, you handled like, 90% of this gig alone. And that’s totally fine, so you can keep those lame placations in your princess-sized purse.”
“It’s not a fucking purse!” Justin barked. “Will you ever stop with this shit? It’s from a men’s store. It’s a bag in a practical size.” Justin fucking loved that bag. It had the perfect fucking size. It was manly, too.
Jerry laughed and tore off a chunk from the cardboard lid. He placed a pizza slice on it, then pushed it into Justin’s direction. “Cynthia’s going to send us the details within the next two days. Here.”
“I get a whole slice? Oh, you’re so good to me,” Justin mocked.
“You know me, I’m a giver. See, I even gave you the slice with the most mushrooms because I care about your vegetable intake.”
+
Stress-eating didn’t suit him, Brian decided, and tossed the falafel into the next sidewalk bin.
He was going to make an appointment with his massage therapist instead. He’d order the deep tissue shit this time. Roman could just fuck off with his stupid microwaved stones. He’d have Cynthia call him later.
An elderly woman glared when he crossed the absolutely car-empty street at red and Brian once more wondered why he’d decided to walk.
The window display of that tacky artistry shop made him stop and shake his head. Orange tulle was just one of the more harmless décor offenses. Brian’s grin vanished when he saw a box of crayola sitting on a tiny scaffold.
Justin used that brand. Brian had seen the same box peeking out of his weirdly sized bag when- nevermind.
He turned around to walk on. But there, right on the corner was a couple leaning against the building, kissing and laughing.
Was that… Daphne?
+
The red flowers looked out of place in the yellow vase, but it didn’t matter.
She’d dosed off a couple of minutes ago, still weak from the sedatives they had pumped into her during the night. Among other things, she broke the vase they always used for the red flowers, the dark one that had accentuated the red nicely. Justin wondered if he should even bother replacing the frames for the pictures of him and Molly.
Sitting by her bed and looking out the window was a very familiar setting for him. Usually, Justin would let his mind wander, but lately, his thought expeditions haven’t been safe.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Brian.
Fuck, he should have just insisted that Jerry canceled on Kinnetik. Then again, Jerry wouldn’t let that go and Justin would have to explain. And explain he could not. It wasn’t like he had a clue himself.
Justin didn’t know who the fuck he was anymore. The only thing he knew was that his two weeks to make a decision about mom were almost over.
+
“And then I see that slut sucking face with the guy!”
“And…?”
“What and?!”
“Well, I’m waiting on the part where you tell me why we are discussing this.”
“Be-cause,” Brian pressed out, waving his hand in front of him. “It means that that girl is cheating on him!” How could Mikey be so obtuse?
“Well, maybe they’re seeing other people, too. Polygamy is not exclusive to gay men, you know.”
“It is in this city.”
“What?” Michael closed the drawer of the cash register and it gave a ping. “You know, this is like, the most worked-up I’ve seen you in forever. Even weirder, it’s because of supposed cheating. Since when the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t care…”
Michael smiled at the air-quotes and did the same. “Uh-huh.”
“It’s just that…” Brian turned away when Mikey’s gaze became too heavy. “Justin isn’t that kind of guy.”
“What kind of guy?”
“He just… he just wouldn’t be…” Brian decided to glare at Mikey for good measure while he searched for words. “Say, even if they had agreed on fucking other people, this was different.”
The glaring didn’t help, Mikey still looked at him through big eyes. “Different how?”
“They were… Daphne and that guy, they were doing that whole lovey-cutesy crap.” Brian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They were leaning against that building, all…”
“All what?” If Mikey didn’t look so clueless, Brian would be convinced that he was enjoying this.
“You know… kissing and… hands together… and giggling…”
“Giggling?”
“Yes, fucking giggling, okay? You know what I mean!”
“I guess.”
“The point is: you don’t do that with a random fuck.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Mikey scratched his chin. “So, what you’re saying is that she’s cheating on him, even by your standards?”
“I guess.”
“So, you do care?”
Yes. Maybe. “No! I just don’t want him getting fucked over like that.” Brian blinked at the wall, then made a beeline for the bean bag sofa and plopped down. He felt exhausted.
Michael just blinked at him. Finally, many moments later, he spoke in wonder, “Christ, Brian.”
Brian rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, I know.”
[ Step 9 ]