Experiment - Chapter 25 - Final Chapter
So here it is, the final chapter of what started out as a little one off challenge fic. It was my introduction to writing an extended fic, and a major learning experience for me - in a number of ways. Glad to have it all posted here at last. It's a long one so it will be in two parts
This story is intended for adults only. If you click on the link, you're signifying that you are 18 or over.
For previous chapters: Experiment Index
Experiment 25: New Beginnings - Part One
Justin
Brian opens Em’s present like it might contain a bomb - or at least a dead rat. Emmett’s taste and Brian’s don’t exactly match. Brian somehow gives the impression he’s handling it with fingertips and would like to be using tongs, but Gus is right in there, “helping”, and Brian winds up watching Gus more than looking at the present.
Until Gus finally gets the lid off the box and wrinkles his nose up, trying to work out what it is. Well, what they are, since there are six items in the box: two small carved animals and two sets of chopsticks made from some beautiful dark wood. The handles have a delicate inlay of what I think at first is mother-of-pearl. Brian knows better, though. He picks one up and caresses the light, slightly yellowed characters. “These must be old,” he says.
That’s when I realize that the inlay is ivory. And so are the two small tortoises with slightly flattened backs, intended to be used as rests, which are nestling between the chopsticks.
Brian looks up at Em who is trying to be cool, but is in fact buzzing with excitement. Brian gives him a tongue in cheek smirk, and says, “Doing it with some old Chinese guy, now?”
Em looks shocked and a little hurt. “I got them from a supplier I’ve been working with for my Asian-themed parties,” he says with dignity. “They belonged to his great something or another. The tortoises are supposed to bring long life. Waga-san says they worked for his great-whatever, because he lived to be nearly a hundred. He says they’re a very auspicious gift for a birthday.”
Brian just sort of smiles and ducks his head.
“Not bad,” he mumbles.
Which, as I hope Em knows, is Kinney-speak for “They’re beautiful, Emmett, thank you.”
Emmett gives a big smile, so it seems he’s got the right interpretation. “Oh, good! I hoped you’d like them. When I saw them I thought they’d be just fabulous for dinner in the loft.”
He’s right. They will be. For once Emmett, the unqualified mistress of outré, has managed to restrain himself and find something that suits Brian’s minimalist style.
Gus pounces on the next present then and everyone is distracted, so most of them don’t see Brian’s hand snake out to pat Em’s orange leather-clad thigh. Em feels it, though, and pats Brian’s shoulder in return before loudly demanding a drink.
He’s saying something about how nerve-wracking it is buying presents for a true diva, and everyone laughs, and drinks circulate as Brian watches Gus tear the wrapping from the next gift.
It’s obvious that everyone has put some thought into choosing the gifts, as if they want Brian to know that they do care about him, that he means something to them. Deb gives him a soft black silk scarf, and another smaller gift that I only catch a glimpse of. (Later I find out that it’s a pewter key ring, made like a Yin/Yang symbol, but the two halves of the symbol slide apart and inside it’s a sort of locket with an old photo of Brian and I in there - one from that first art show at the GLC; but for now, Brian looks at it, and smiles, and then it disappears into his pocket). Vic gives him a CD by some Irish jazz and blues singer named Mary Coughlan which is apparently really hard to get and which Brian nods his head over in a way that tells me he really likes it. And Lindz and Mel present him with two gifts.
One is a framed photo of Brian and Gus. I haven’t seen it before, but something about it makes Brian’s eyes cloud over. Gus looks a little younger than he is now, and he’s standing, holding onto his father’s hands. Mel watches Brian closely as he looks at the photo, and seems satisfied, but maybe a little surprised, by his reaction.
“It was taken the afternoon Gus took his first steps,” Lindz explains. “Brian was here when it happened. Gus tottered a few steps, and then sat down, looking really surprised, and then terribly pleased with himself. We were all so shocked, but Mel ran and got the camera and a few minutes later he took off again and toddled over to Brian. Then he just kept following Brian around.”
Brian is nodding slightly and smiling at the photo. Gus taps it. “Gus,” he says proudly to me.
“That’s right,” I answer.
“And Dadda,” Gus says happily. “Look, Dadda. Dadda and Gus. Us”
He beams up at his father, and suddenly I can hardly see. Damned allergies! I look at Brian and see that he’s not much better off. But he smiles back at Gus and runs his hand over his son’s head and gently down his face. “That’s right, Gus,” he croaks out somehow. “That’s us.”
Gus gives him another happy smile, and picks up the second half of the present. It’s a largish envelope, fairly thickly stuffed. It’s too hard for Gus to open so he hands it to Brian, who opens it and pulls out a sheaf of cards - individual pieces, some slightly larger than others. And with them a stiff sheet of what looks like parchment, filled with flowing script.
Brian stares at them in puzzlement, and Gus is clamoring to know what they are, so I take the parchment and start to read it aloud, while Brian studies the pieces of card. The writing on the parchment seems to be in some kind of legalese, so it’s my guess that Mel wrote it, and as I start to understand what the words mean, I wonder what Lindz had to do to persuade her. Then I look at Mel and she wrinkles her nose at me and shrugs, but she’s kind of smiling too, so maybe Lindz didn’t have to twist her arm all that hard.
Basically, the paper is a sort of contract, signed by both Mel and Lindz, saying that in recognition of Brian’s role as Gus’ father, they are granting him guaranteed access rights, to include, but not limited to, those covered by the accompanying redemption vouchers. Brian is looking at the “vouchers” which each have a small drawing. The ones I can see are of Gus playing at the loft and another of him and Brian in the park. But there are lots. There must be at least fifty.
I’m trying to read it calmly, but I can’t get my voice to co-operate. I choke to a halt after the first couple of lines and Brian looks at me strangely for a minute, then twists his head to try to read it. I angle the paper so he can read it more easily and let my head slip onto his shoulder. I don’t want to make a big thing of this, not in front of everyone. But I know, I know deep in my bones, how much this will mean to Brian.
I doubt it would stand up in a court of law if it had to; but what it’s saying to him is that after all the shit Mel has heaped on him all this time, she is recognizing, not just his right to be in Gus’ life, 'cause that would mean fuck all to Mel, but Gus’ right to have Brian in his life. And that means that she’s recognizing that having Brian in his life is good for Gus.
I can’t think of any gift anyone could give him that would mean more to him.
I can only press as close as I can to him as I hear him take in deep shaky breaths, trying to let him know that I understand.
*****
Brian
Fuck!
Fuck!
It’s fucking stupid but I can hardly breathe. It’s just a piece of fucking paper, for chrissakes. Doesn’t mean a damned thing. Not really. But …
Fuck!
I can feel Justin next to me, and I swear that’s the only thing that keeps me flying into a million pieces right there.
I guess they’re all waiting for me to say something, but I don’t fucking know what to say, even if I could be sure my voice would work.
But I’m not some fucking teary dyke, and I have to do something.
I look up. At Lindz first. That seems safest. She’s going to know anyway what this means to me. She smiles at me, and I nod. That’s all I have to do. She understands.
Fuck! Now the other one.
I gear myself and look at her. The one who’s always hated me, always resented me. What the fuck did she want to do this for? It can’t be just Lindz. Lindz has tried to get her … well, get us, to behave civilly to each other for years, and it’s never worked. Why has she suddenly …?
I meet her eyes and she’s almost glaring at me, and for a moment all I see is the bitch who’s never had a good word for me in all the time I’ve known her. Not when I signed over my rights to my son to get her and Lindz back together, not when I saved the day with their fucking dyke wedding, not when I agreed to father a child with her, though God knows the last fucking thing I wanted was to be tied for life to someone who can barely say my name without spitting; and a shitload of thanks I got for that. All she did when I finally caved was to throw it back in my face and choose Mikey. Her mouth is tight now, and she’s glaring at me just like usual.
But that’s bullshit. Underneath that glare, she looks tired, and scared, and suddenly I don’t see the bitch dyke from Hell, I just see a woman who hasn’t had it easy, someone who’s had to fight tooth and nail for every little crumb of respect, every little scrap of recognition, for everything she’s wanted. And I see someone who loves my son, and who wants to do the right thing for him.
So that’s when the fucking walls come crashing down and the ceiling caves in on me, because she’s fucking telling me that spending time with his father, spending time with me, is the right thing for Gus; and I don’t think I can deal with that here in front of the whole fucking family.
I can feel fucking tears swelling in my eyes, and I don’t know how to stop them falling, but Justin’s pulling me round to face him, and under guise of one of our patented public make-out sessions, he’s kissing them away and I fall into his mouth, and, as the world rights itself, I hear Gus saying, “Look, Dadda! Look Jus! Me and Dadda and Jus eating icekweem!”
I look at him, and he’s waving one of those damned cards, with a drawing of the three of us slurping at huge icecreams. Of course, that’s the one he would pick out. I swear, if he looks like me, he somehow fucking takes after Justin in some things. Food, being one of them. Then, of course, Sonnyboy wants to know if there are icecreams on the horizon. Everyone chirps up that there’ll be lunch soon and birthday cake, and then they decide that it really is time to make that happen, so they start fucking about and getting things out of the oven and all that, so that eases Sonnyboy’s food anxieties for now and gives me a chance to get up and go over to Mel.
I’m not sure what to say to her, so I poke my tongue into my cheek and wait for inspiration, but then when it comes, what comes out of my mouth isn’t what either of us expect.
“You do fucking realize,” I hear myself saying, “ that you’re stuck with me now. I’m not going to let this slide.” I wave the cards I’m holding, to make my point, and then find myself saying, “And I’ll be claiming a share of the new one, too. Don’t kid yourself that just because Mikey’s taken off to fucking Boston, you won’t have to deal with a father for this one. So be ready to duke it out.”
“Bring it on,” she says, but her voice chokes off, and she gives a gasp, and then she starts fucking crying and all I can do is to kind of put my arms around her and pat her on the back hard enough to encourage her to stop.
Dykes! It’s fucking catching.
*****
Justin
I’m so happy for Brian that I want to dance and shout and throw streamers, but, I also want to play this very cool so that Brian has some protection, some refuge from the exposure of the feelings he’s always so fucking determined to keep hidden away from everyone. Something I’d have to say he hasn’t been too successful with so far today. Which makes it even more important that I stay calm.
When everyone starts fussing over lunch, he gets up and goes over to Mel. I don’t hear what he says to her, but all of a sudden she’s crying on his shoulder and he’s sort of holding her and patting her on the back. I’ve never seen him look so awkward. It strikes me as hilarious I have to fight really hard not to laugh.
I glance at Lindz and she gives me this look. I can guess some of what she’s thinking. The last thing either one of us would ever expect is for Brian and Mel to suddenly be burying the hatchet, and sniveling in each other’s arms like a pair of drunken drag queens, but there it is, right in front of our eyes.
And at the same moment we realize that it’s in front of everyone else’s eyes as well, and we both swoop in to rescue our partners.
Lindz draws Mel out of Brian’s arms, and helps wipe her face and whispers to her. I hear something about “lay down”, so maybe she’s suggesting that all this is down to tiredness and Mel should rest. At the same time, I snake one arm round Brian’s waist and run the other hand down his arm to clasp his hand.
He squeezes my fingers and then turns and pulls me full on into his arms. He rests his face in my hair for a moment and I just hold him.
Then I hear Mel’s voice. It’s doing a fair impersonation of her usual snarkiness, but you can hear something different there, all the same.
“Come on, Kinney. Are you going to eat this fucking lunch or not?”
We go to sit at the table, everyone being very careful not to refer in any way to what’s just been happening in front of them. By the extent of their silence on the matter, you can tell how much they’re going to be chattering about it later. But for now, thank God, they leave Brian and Mel to get themselves back together with some semblance of dignity.
We’ve just got Gus into his highchair, (which he fusses about a little; he thinks he’s a big boy now and should be able to sit in an ordinary chair), and Brian is sitting down when I see Deb nudge Hunter. He sighs, but sidles over to Brian with a wrapped gift. He holds it out and then pulls it back when Brian reaches for it. “Do I get a kiss?” the little shit says.
Brian pulls his lips in and looks at him, then stands. Hunter’s eyes light up and you can practically see him drooling all over Brian’s new shirt. Then Brian cups his hands round the brat’s face and the little shit clamps his hands on Brian’s hips and tries to pull them towards him. Brian gives him a quick peck on the tip of his nose, and then pushes him back and sits down.
Hunter is not happy; he tries to seat himself next to Brian, in my seat, but Deb smacks him across the head and he sighs and moves to the other side of the table, tossing the present at Brian as he goes.
By the size and shape it’s either another CD or a DVD, and I watch without much curiosity as Brian unwraps it. Then, just as Brian goes completely still beside me, Hunter pipes up with, “It’s from all of us. Michael picked it. Ben thought it was okay, but I think it’s fucking lame. I would have got something much hotter.”
He leers at Brian as usual, but I hardly notice. I’m too intent on Brian’s reaction.
He lets the DVD drop to the table, and reaches across to put some food onto Gus’ plate. On the surface, he seems calm enough, but I can almost feel him vibrating, he’s so wound up.
I move the wrapping aside and glance at the DVD. Dirty Dancing. I should have fucking known. Trust dear little Mikey. Even when he’s hundreds of miles away, taken off without even a word on his “best friend’s” birthday, he somehow finds a way to push all of Brian’s buttons, finds a way to remind him of how much he “loves” him, remind him that they’ve been together forever, make him feel …
Well, not today. My eyes are stinging and I’m so angry I can hardly contain it. I want to scream and curse Michael. Curse all of them for not protecting Brian from that manipulative little shit.
I pick up the DVD, not sure what I’m going to do with it, but before I can do or say anything, it’s snatched out of my hands.
*****
Brian
I don’t even have to look at him to know how mad he is. How upset he is.
Well, fuck that!
I grab the DVD and toss it to Lindz.
“Put that in the trash. Hunter’s right. It’s lame. It’s a tired old movie that should have been left on the shelf years ago.”
They’re all staring at me, aware that they’re missing something here, but not sure what. Stuff them. Let them stare. The only ones who fucking matter are sitting either side of me. Gus is saying something about wanting more gravy and Justin is … Justin is …
I leave Lindz to deal with Gus, and reach out and wrap my hand around the back of Justin’s neck. He turns to me, and I see anger in his eyes, watery anger, but still anger. But it’s anger for me, not at me.
I’m angry myself. For him. I swore I wasn’t going to let Michael mess things up for him again.
So I let the anger go, and touch my forehead to his. He knows, I realize. He knows the messages Michael was trying to send me with that damned DVD. My mind flashes back to a much younger Justin saying something like “that movie’s so old”, and suddenly I find myself grinning.
It strikes me that if ever I think about “Dirty Dancing” again, it won’t be about jerking off with Mikey, it’ll be about a brash seventeen-year-old making me feel like a fucking old man.
And about my partner sitting right at my side, willing to take on the world for my sake.
Maybe I should rescue the movie. We could watch it together. See if Patrick Swayze still seems hot. But that’s probably not a good idea. Things are hardly ever the way you remember them. Seems it’s finally sank into my skull, at least, although apparently not Mikey’s, that you have to grow up sometime. Have to let go of the past. Or at least, let it be the past.
Seems like I’m finally fucking ready to do that. Let it go, and move on with my life.
My son is trying to get my attention and my partner is now smiling at me. My family are sitting round the table sharing my fuck-the-thought birthday lunch; even my son’s mother’s husband is treating me like a worthwhile human being for once. And if my old best friend isn’t around, well, my new one more than makes up for that loss.
“That movie’s so old,” I murmur to him, under my breath, so no one else will hear.
He looks puzzled for a moment, then he remembers. His eyes light with laughter. “How old are you?” he murmurs back provocatively, just like he did that night.
“Old enough to spank your ass,” I mouth at him, as Lindz tries to catch his attention so she can pass him a plate of food.
He grins at me, and then the food button triggers and he’s reaching for everything in sight, shoveling food onto his plate, and onto mine.
I make a protest, for form’s sake at least, and he just pauses long enough to give me a quick kiss and goes back to serving us both, while I turn to answer my son’s chatter; and right then I can feel it, I can feel my life shift and move off in a different direction.
What’s fucking amazing is that for once I don’t fight tooth and nail to keep it the same, I just let it happen, let the new things come. I’m not even scared. Not as long as my partner’s there next to me, and my son is smiling at me like I’m someone absolutely fucking wonderful, instead of the piece of shit I thought I’d be as a father.
As long as new beginnings come in forms like these, bring them on.
*****
Justin
I’d been ready to kill Mikey when I saw that damned DVD, but then … then Brian … he made it clear that it didn’t matter anymore. That somehow Michael didn’t matter any more. I felt like I’d been given the birthday present. And the best one I could have asked for. Not because it meant that the thorn in the side, the stone in the shoe, the fucking pain in the ass, and every other likely cliché, that is Mikey was out of my life; but because it meant he was out of Brian’s. That Brian was finally free of him. Or, at least, as free as he can be of someone who’s been such a big part of his life for so long, someone he’s shared so many memories with.
But you can keep the best of those memories and still let go of trying to keep things the same between you. It’s not easy. I had to do it with my Dad, so I know. But once you do you can move on. You don’t have part of you held in place by their expectations of you; by what they want you to be. The moment when I faced my Dad and told him that it didn’t matter what he wanted me to be, that I was proud of who I am, was one of the most liberating of my life. It was like having some huge growth torn out by the roots: it hurt like hell, but it left me feeling so much lighter, and it left me ready to heal. I have scars, but they’re clean ones now, not the weeping sores they were before that.
I hope, I believe, that that’s how it will be for Brian. I could see the pain in his face when he tossed that thing aside; but I could also see the look of relief. Once it was gone, it was like … he’s been more relaxed, more openly happy than I’ve ever seen him - at least around other people. And everyone … it’s as if they finally understand some things about Brian, because they seem openly happy to be here sharing his birthday with him too.
There was a moment when Brian first threw the DVD to Lindz that Deb looked like she was going to weigh in on her absent offspring’s behalf, but I saw Vic grab her arm and shake his head and miraculously she kept her mouth shut. Now, as she watches Brian with Gus, sees him relaxed and laughing, it seems to dawn on her at last, that if she wants dear Mikey to be free to move on from Brian, she has to be ready for Brian to move on from Mikey too; she can’t keep on demanding that he puts Mikey’s feelings first. Which means she has to let go of that part of Brian as well. Eventually she starts smiling and giving us both her “proud Mom” look.
No one mentions Michael again, now wanting to upset Deb, or Mel, or Hunter, or Brian. But it’s not awkward. His absence doesn’t seem to be a big deal. It’s as if he moved away months ago. Brian, Mel, Hunter, even Deb, they’re all kicking back and having a good time.
So, after all my fears, now I can relax as well and enjoy the day. Enjoy seeing the look on Brian’s face when they bring out the cake with the candles; enjoy seeing him have to suck it up because Gus is sitting there all excited and begging to help him blow them out. I’m still not sure that Brian isn’t going to say something snarky so I lean in and whisper promises to blow something else entirely and he gives that tongue in cheek grin of his and the danger moment passes.
Most of all I can enjoy watching him with Gus, watching him know that, against all the odds, he’s a good father; enjoy watching the knowledge sink in that even Mel thinks so. He looks kinda thunderstruck, but … happy. Just happy.
*****
Brian
After eating way too much we all sit round in the yard for a while, just yakking. I help Gus onto the swing and then have to stand there pushing him for hours because he won’t let anyone else do it, and whenever someone volunteers to take over it’s “No! No! I wan’ Dadda to puss me!”
I notice Em and Justin are having some secret little pow wow and would love to know what that’s about, but I’ll pry it out of young Sunshine later. Em disappears for a while, but he’s back by the time the herd have moved on to grazing on coffee and some fancy assed cake that Vic made which has got more carbs in a slice than I’d eat in a week. By then, I’m fucking bored, and my feet hurt and I’d just walk away but every time I suggest doing something else, my Sonnyboy says “Jus’ one more, Dadda. Peese?” So of course I give in like the fucking pussy I’ve become. But that beats the hell out of being the evil shit that Jack was, so I guess I’m still ahead of the game, at least as far as Gus is concerned.
When Justin finally bribes Sonnyboy away from the swing with some milk and cookies, Lindz tells me that I spoil him, but I just shrug her off and she gets this look like she’s going to get all dykey sentimental on me, so I figure it’s time to get out of there. Gus fusses a little, but we promise to drop by soon and take him for another ride in the car.
Everyone gets all fucking huggy-huggy, but I guess that’s a small price to pay for getting out of there in one piece. I stop long enough with Deb to tell her that if she needs anything she should just call, and Justin, fuck him, tells her we’ll be by for dinner one night this week, and he’ll call her and work out which night and she damn near smothers both of us, but we finally get out of there still breathing so I guess we did okay.
So we’re on our way home, and I’m trying to summon up some enthusiasm for the idea of going out tonight and, if not celebrating, then fucking drowning my sorrows in style, when the little shit pulls over and reaches into the back, into the bag with my presents in and pulls out a fucking chauffeur’s cap. He plops it on and grins at me from under the brim.
“Does Sir have any instructions about this afternoon’s ride?” he says.
Well, Sir can think of one or two.
*****
Justin
It was totally worth handing over the last of my birthday money for Em to get the cap to see the look on Brian’s face when I put it on. I could tell he was about to slip into some idiotic fucking “oh, shit it’s my birthday and I’m getting old” bullshit, but that all just goes away as soon as he realizes there’s a game on. He’s in full predator mode in two seconds flat.
He tells me to drive back to the parking lot where we’d “road-tested” the car. Then he orders me to strip … well, except for the cap of course. Then he tells me to put the seats right back and straddle him and give him a show.
So I do. I give him a lap dance he’ll be a long time forgetting, then, while he watches, I stretch and lube myself, then I ride him till we both come so hard it seems like we forget how to breathe.
We lay there panting for a while, and he’s giving me these lazy kisses, that to me have always been almost the best part 'cause I know that he so doesn’t do this with anyone else. Finally he says, “You owe me a blow job.”
I’m ready to start right then, if he’s thinks he’s up for it, but he shakes his head and tells me to get dressed. I have to straighten out the cap, 'cause he’d pulled it off while we were snuggling so he could get to my hair, and we’d rolled on it a little. But it’s okay.
He has me drive him to our favorite alley, and, although it’s broad daylight, we find a place behind a dumpster and I blow him right there. It’s hot. He lets me keep my pants on this time, but he takes my sweater and shirt off. He likes me to rub my nipples on his thighs or across his hips when I blow him. For some reason it really gets him going.
After that, we drive to a Starbucks so I can usher him inside, and find a table for him, and take his order to the counter for him. He says he might as well make the most of having his own servant for the day. The cap doesn’t really go with the rest of my clothes and people keep giving us these weird looks, so he says next time he’ll hire a whole uniform. I tell him it’s his turn next but he just laughs at me. Then he kisses me and tells me he plans to let me do some more driving once we get home. That he’s looking forward to being taken for a ride.
Bastard! My dick had finally started to go down after the blow job I gave him in the alley when I hadn’t got off, and now it’s hard as a … well, it’s damned hard!
And we’re in the middle of Starbucks. He’s so fucking lucky that it’s his birthday or he would so not be getting any tonight. Well, not until he’d made this up to me anyway!
*****
Brian
He’s sitting there with a big fat woody and I can tell he’s royally pissed and I can only laugh at him. I swear it’s the damned caffeine, because I’m sitting here giggling like a fucking schoolgirl. Maybe I’m high; maybe I’m having some weird-assed flashback. Whatever it is though, it’s all good, because suddenly he’s laughing too. He punches me in the arm and mutters “asshole”, but his eyes are all shiny bright and his smile is putting all the lighting in here to shame.
Fuck!
It really is catching, all this hetero-lesbo shit. But he’s happy, and, I realize, so am I.
So fuck it!
We get home and I know he’s going to want to claim on the promise I made in Starbucks. I’m tempted to tease him and make him wait, but I don’t get much chance, because as soon as we get in the door he’s on me. And if he’s a bossy little bottom, he can be a very demanding top when he gets in the mood.
So I let him have his wicked way with me. Partly because it’s easier. Partly because it feels so good sometimes to give up control to him, knowing I’m safe, and it’s okay to do that. But a lot of it, although I’d never admit this for a minute, is that I know he’ll hold me afterwards and nothing, nothing feels better than that. Nowhere is safer than that place. There is no better place to be than lying safe in Justin’s arms after he’s just shown me once again that I don’t have to be super stud Kinney with him; that I don’t have to be all powerful, all conquering; that just Brian is fine with him. There is no feeling better than that. Unless it’s the feeling after I’ve fucked him into the mattress and he crawls into the hollow of my shoulder like it’s home, and my arm folds round him and he’s there and that’s my home.
That’s pretty fucking good too.
Final Chapter - Part Two