Making it Through Another Summer: Chapter 2
Making it Through the Summer & Making it Through Another Summer
by Kim
Making it Through Another Summer
Chapter 2
Monday, January 26th
11:00 a.m.
Kinnetik
"Good morning, August," Justin greeted his assistant as he arrived in the office following class.
"Hi Justin," August smiled. "How was the weekend? It looks like you've recovered from your birthday."
"Yep," the blond nodded. His twenty-first birthday had been the previous Thursday and he had come into the office the following morning looking a little worse for wear. Ted and Emmett had insisted on plying him with drinks at both Woody's and Babylon. Brian, unfortunately, had been in New York on business, but had managed to make it home Friday night.
"Is that a new bracelet?" August asked, pointing to the sterling silver ID bracelet with gold accents that his boss was sporting on his right wrist.
"Uh, sort of," Justin shyly admitted, looking down at the bracelet.
"It looks like it may have come from Tiffany & Co."
"Maybe," the blond admitted with a faint blush.
"I see. So, Brian came through for your birthday after all? For someone who supposedly doesn't do birthdays, he certainly was generous," August observed.
"Let's just say he made an exception this year."
"Well, good for him. You deserve to have him show you how special you are once in a while."
"Thanks, August," Justin smiled, before heading toward his office, eager to start his day.
***
Sitting at his desk, Justin couldn't keep his thoughts off the bracelet. He was still shocked by his lover's gesture. Initially, he had been convinced that Brian wouldn't make an effort to acknowledge his birthday, especially when he was called away to New York on business. However, Brian had been full of surprises upon his return home. Since it was Justin's 21st birthday, Brian had decided to make an exception to his no birthdays policy, and had shocked Justin by laying the jeweler's famous blue box on his pillow.
Stunned, Justin opened the box to discover a Tiffany Gatelink ID bracelet nestled inside. Much to his surprise, Brian shared with him the history behind the bracelet. It turned out that the bracelet had actually been Brian's. He purchased it for himself after he graduated from Penn State and had started his job at the Ryder Agency. At the time, he felt he deserved a reward for his accomplishments. Since he hadn't been able to afford a Rolex, Brian had opted for the bracelet and had it engraved with his initials.
Brian quietly explained that since the bracelet had been replaced with a Rolex, he no longer had a need for it. However, when he had been reminded of Justin's approaching 21st birthday, he couldn't help but think it was time that he passed the bracelet on. Justin had after all grown into "the best homosexual" he could, and that in itself was an achievement worth celebrating. He had offered to get Justin's initials added to the bracelet, but the blond had refused, liking the bracelet just the way it was. It would be his own personal reminder of Brian's commitment and loyalty.
Noon
Liberty Avenue
Walking down Liberty Avenue on his lunch hour, Brian spotted Debbie and Vic holding petitions. It was obvious that they had taken up yet another cause, and as he approached the pair, his ears immediately picked up on Debbie's frustrated voice.
"Christ, we have an election coming up. You'd think these guys would give a shit about something else besides getting their dicks sucked."
"How about a rim job or a good old-fashioned fuck?" Brian sarcastically suggested as he stopped beside them.
"That's what I like, a non-partisan opinion," Vic laughed.
"When's the last time you voted?" Debbie huffed, not finding any humor in Brian's suggestion.
"Uh... Let's see, that would have to be the big basket contest at Woody's," Brian answered, not the least bit interested in politics.
"Voting's a serious business," Vic joked, finding humor in Brian's response.
"Especially this year," Debbie sighed, as she chose to ignore the ad executive's remark. "What if that asshole gets elected?"
"Which asshole?" Brian asked curiously. He hadn't even given the upcoming mayor's election a second thought.
"Christ," Debbie grumbled. "Where the fuck have you been?"
"Babylon, the baths," Brian shrugged.
"Our illustrious police chief is running for mayor," Vic explained, filling Brian in.
"And the polls show that he's running neck and neck with Councilman Deekins," Debbie added.
"Let me know who wins," Brian commented as he turned to leave. He had more important things to do, like getting back to the office, than worrying about the upcoming election.
"Hold it! You mean you don't care?" Debbie demanded in disbelief.
"You mean you're surprised?" Vic turned to his sister.
"I mean," Brian began, turning around to face the two of them. "I don't give a fuck whether it's the Democrat who pretends he likes you or the Republican who hates you and lets you know it. Either way, once they're in office they're not going to do a damn thing. So, I say let the best self-serving son of a bitch win," he declared, having decided a long time ago that politics was a waste of time. If only Debbie could come to the same realization. It would save her a tremendous amount of grief and aggravation.
12:30 p.m.
Kinnetik
As Brian approached his office, he was stopped by Eric Fraser, an up and coming senior account executive he had hired three months ago from a competing firm.
"Brian, you're not going to believe this," Fraser grinned from ear to ear.
"Believe what?"
"Let's just say I was able to land you and myself tickets for dinner with some of the fattest cats in all of the Pitts tomorrow evening."
"And where might that be?" Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.
"A fundraising dinner at The Westin Convention Center for our illustrious police chief, Jim Stockwell," Eric stated. "I don't know if you've noticed, but his current ad campaign totally sucks. I'm sure it wouldn't be that difficult for us to woo him over to Kinnetic."
"What makes you think I would be interested in attending this soirée tomorrow evening?" Brian drawled, not about to admit he was impressed by Fraser's resourcefulness.
"I think you know damn well what landing Stockwell would do for this agency. Think of all the backers that would be ripe for the picking," Eric smirked.
"I suppose you have a point, even if I find politics incredibly boring," Brian remarked. "However, I'm sure it wouldn't kill me to spend an evening among Stockwell's backers. In fact, it might prove to be quite profitable."
"Exactly," Eric agreed. "So, I'll see you at The Westin tomorrow night then?"
"Why not. See ya, Fraser," Brian said, pleased with this latest turn of events.
***
"Don't you think you're aiming a tad bit high?" Cynthia asked as she entered Brian's office a few minutes later, after having listened to his conversation with Fraser.
"Too high with what?" Brian looked up from his e-mail to give his assistant a puzzled stare.
"Stockwell."
"I hardly think going after a boring politician and his backers is considered aiming high," Brian refuted.
"Even when the politician has views that substantially differ from your own?"
"I could give a fuck what his views are. All I care about is his money. Hell, if I land Stockwell, I'll give you a raise. How does that sound?"
"Don't bother. I'm not laying a hand on that bastard's money," Cynthia declared before stalking out of her boss' office. She hoped somehow Justin could put a stop to Brian's insanity. Kinnetic didn't need Stockwell's money; it was doing quite well without it.
9:00 p.m.
The Loft
Justin was sitting at the dining room table working on a drawing when Brian entered the loft. He had gotten tied up with a proposal and had called to let Justin know he wouldn't be home in time for dinner.
"Hey," Justin looked up from his sketch to give his lover a warm smile.
"Hey."
"There's some jambalaya in the fridge if you want it," Justin offered as Brian set his briefcase down and began flipping through the mail that had been left on the counter.
"I think I'll pass," Brian murmured, opening a bill. "I ended up grabbing a sandwich at the office."
"Well, I seem to recall it always tastes better on the second day anyway," Justin commented, before turning his attention back to his drawing.
"Unfortunately, I won't be here for dinner tomorrow night either."
"You won't?"
"No. Eric Fraser landed tickets for Jim Stockwell's fundraiser at The Westin. I figured I might as well go and see if I can drum up some business...."
"Did you say Jim Stockwell?" Justin interrupted.
"Yeah, is there a problem?" Brian questioned, coming up behind his partner and wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Only the fact that the guy is a total homophobe," the blond shook his head in disbelief.
"Who gives a fuck? All I care about are his rich backers."
"And what if the only way to get to them is through him?" Justin stood up, sensing he wasn't going to like Brian's response.
"Then I guess that's what I'll have to do," Brian replied, not understanding why Justin seemed so upset.
"Brian, for fuck's sake. Stockwell is a fascist," Justin angrily protested. "He's a threat to everything and everyone we know."
"I doubt that," Brian refuted. "He's hardly a fascist; he's just another fucking politician."
"A politician who has done nothing for the gay community," the blond heatedly argued. "One who has turned a blind eye to the crimes committed against us. You call that being just another politician?"
"Sunshine, for God's sake, calm down," Brian ordered. "Look, you're forgetting about our business. If I can use Stockwell to add to our client list and make us a shit load of money, who cares if the guy is a homophobe."
"I care," Justin stated, getting up from the dining room table, grabbing his coat, and storming out of the loft. He didn't think he could stomach hearing another word about Stockwell.
Tuesday
Noon
Daphne's Apartment
"So, what's the problem with Brian going to a fundraiser for Stockwell?" Daphne asked as the two ate Thai food.
"Only the fact that Stockwell is a homophobe," Justin shook his head in disgust.
"True, but that doesn't mean Brian's suddenly going to be representing Stockwell," Daphne argued, attempting to ease her friend's worries.
"Oh, he will. This is Brian Kinney for fuck's sake. He'll do anything to land Stockwell's backers even if it means representing the fascist himself. All Brian cares about is taking our agency to the top, so he can prove to Vance and everyone else that he's the best."
"Can't you reason with him?"
"I tried that last night, and look where it got me, a few drinks at Woody's and a lousy night the sofa."
"Well, I guess all you can really do is wait and see what happens."
"And shake that fucker's hand when Brian introduces him as our newest client," Justin muttered in revulsion.
"There's always another option," Daphne offered.
"And that is?"
"Councilman Deekins."
"Deekins?"
"Why not? Just think, if you represented Deekins, there's no way Brian could bring Stockwell on board," Daphne reasoned.
"Daph, you're a genius," Justin grinned in amazement. "If I landed Deekins, Brian would have no choice but to forget his visions of grandeur when it comes to Stockwell."
"Then I guess there's your answer," Daphne stated.
"The question becomes then, how the hell do I go about landing Deekins?" Justin mused, knowing full well the councilman was his only option when it came to stopping Brian.
5:00 p.m.
The Loft
After stepping out of the shower, Brian headed into the bedroom in search of the perfect suit to wear that evening. With all of Stockwell's fat cats lurking in the background, he knew it was imperative that he looked like a million bucks. As he began flipping through his closet, he couldn't help but turn his eyes toward the living room.
He had hoped that by the time he had arrived home, Justin would be there. However, it was obvious the blond had not yet arrived. The couch still had the pillow and blanket he had dragged into the living room the night before, after arriving home several hours after his outburst. Brian suspected his partner was still sulking, but couldn't shake the feeling that had been nagging him all afternoon; where had he gone after his angry departure?
It wasn't the first time Brian had considered Justin's tricking since his lover's return from London. While in New York, Brian had thought about it then. He originally had no intention of celebrating Justin's birthday, but soon thoughts of him celebrating it with someone else, or even picking out his own little birthday present to bring back to the loft and enjoy, had Brian quickly reconsidering his birthday policy.
As it worked out, celebrating Justin's birthday upon his return from New York had been the right decision. He could still see the look of happiness on his lover's face as he opened the Tiffany bracelet, and after telling Justin the story behind the bracelet, they had enjoyed each other's bodies in every way imaginable.
While Brian thought this would dispel any urges for Justin to trick any time soon, he was now wondering if he had been wrong. However, he didn't have time to keep wondering about something that shouldn't be bothering him in the first place. He had more important things to worry about, like landing Stockwell's backers. With that in mind, Brian turned his attention away from the living room and back toward his closet.
7:00 p.m.
The Westin Hotel
"Just as I expected," Eric Fraser remarked, standing next to Brian as they scoped out the hotel ballroom. "Plenty of pricey prey swimming in these waters. Periscope depth, focus...." His eyes suddenly lit up as they spotted a potential target. "There's Bill Ransom over there, Jerusalem Steel. The red-head beside him is the gatekeeper," Eric indicated. "Get by her and you're in."
"Ah," Brian murmured, as his eyes continued to scan the room, searching for his own form of prey.
"Diane Overton, black dress by the bar," Fraser observed, cocking his head toward another potential client. "Pittsburgh Cancer Foundation. Lots of good leads through her."
"Yep," Brian concurred, fully aware of Ms. Overton's reputation.
"The man of the hour who everyone's anteed up $5,000 to shake hands with, Jim Stockwell," Fraser introduced, as Brian eyes locked on a different target standing across the room.
"Are you listening?" Eric noticed Brian's eyes were not focused on Stockwell. "You're paying a shitload of cash for us to be here."
"For which you should be eternally grateful," Brian sardonically commented, before turning to head across the room. There was someone who required his immediate attention, and it certainly wasn't the man of the hour.
"Where are you going?" Fraser demanded, stunned that his boss seemed completely disinterested in Stockwell.
"To fire a torpedo, sailor," Brian announced with a salute, as his eyes burned with lust. It had been over twenty-four hours since he last had any form of relief.
***
Several minutes later, after sating his lust in his trick, Brian exited the bathroom stall they had shared and walked toward the sinks just as Chief Stockwell entered the bathroom. Not one to let such an opportunity pass, Brian decided it was time to introduce himself.
"So, you're running for mayor?" he asked over his shoulder as Stockwell stood at the urinals.
"That's right," the chief confirmed.
"How's it going?" Brian drawled, zipping up his pants, and fixing his belt.
"Very well, thanks."
"Really?" Brian raised an eyebrow, straightening his suit jacket. "With all this money you're raising you should be out in front, but the polls show you're trailing Councilman Deekins."
"My opponent is ahead at this point by the narrowest of margins," Stockwell stated as he approached the sinks. "However, my advisors have informed me that we're well positioned to take the lead."
"Your advisors are blowing smoke up your ass," Brian sardonically remarked. "And your prepared remarks are as stale as the campaign you're running," he added.
"Thank you for your opinion Mr, uh," Stockwell turned towards Brian and politely offered his hand.
"Kinney," Brian clarified shaking Stockwell's hand. "Brian Kinney."
"It's always helpful hearing from one's supporters," Stockwell commented.
"I'm not a supporter," Brian quickly corrected the candidate. "I'm an ad man trying to drum up some business among your rich and powerful friends."
"Huh," the police chief murmured in surprise. "At least you're honest."
"I figure the best way to get in with them is to get in with you," Brian continued. "So, if you ever get tired of pissing your pals' millions away on an ad campaign that has you positioned exactly where your advisors want you to be, give me a call," he suggested, handing Stockwell his business card and turning to leave, having clearly fired more than one torpedo in the men's room.
Meanwhile
A Conference Room
Kinnetik
"Let me see if I have this straight," Nathan James, a young ad executive Justin often worked closely with began, "you want to go after Marvin Deekins?"
"Yep," Justin nodded.
"Interesting," Nathan murmured. "What do you think?" he asked, turning to Brendan.
"Why not? Let's face it, who the fuck wants Stockwell?"
"Probably the majority of our agency," Nathan argued.
"True, but as I said earlier, the guy is a fascist. Do we really want to associate Kinnetic with someone like him?" Justin countered.
"You have a point. Personally, I find the guy's family friendly Pittsburgh rhetoric a bit on the nauseating side," Nathan conceded.
"Same here," Brendan agreed. "I say, let Vance have the asshole. They're perfect for each other."
"Vance and Stockwell," Justin laughed. "Who could ask for a better match?"
"I'd be hard pressed to find one," Brendan commented.
"So, what do you think, Nathan? Shall we leave Vance to keeping Stockwell busy wining and dining the elite and preaching his family values bullshit?" Justin asked.
"Why not," Nathan shrugged. "I suppose representing Deekins would be a challenge, and you know damn well I'm always up for a challenge," he grinned.
"Why do you think I asked you here tonight?" Justin smiled, glad his instincts about the ad executive had been dead on.
"So Deekins it is," Brendan surmised. "Now the question is, how do we land him?"
10:00 p.m.
The Westin Hotel
"Brian Kinney." A familiar British accent drawled from behind as Brian stood talking to Eric.
"Vance," Brian turned and gave his former business partner and current nemesis a smirk.
"I see you've got your eye on the man of the hour."
"Ah, but so do you," Brian couldn't help but point out.
"You don't really think Chief Stockwell would lower himself to work with you and that kid you call a business partner, do you?"
"Do you really think he would lower himself to work with an aging ad executive with stale ideas?" Brian coolly shot back.
"At least the majority of my time isn't spent baby-sitting my business partner because he's not cut out for his job," Vance argued.
"I would much rather baby-sit than worry about when my partner is going to stab me in the back," Brian offered dryly, as he turned to leave. He'd had more than enough of Pittsburgh's elite for an evening.
***
"What an asshole," Eric grumbled, as he headed out of the hotel with Brian.
"He's an arrogant bastard, isn't he?" Brian observed.
"If he only knew what an asset Justin is to Kinnetic," Eric shook his head in disbelief.
"I guess he'll just have to wait until Justin steals one of his accounts," Brian remarked, feeling it would be sooner rather than later.
"I can just see the look on Vance's face," Fraser laughed. "He still doesn't realize how tenacious Justin is. Christ, when that kid sets his mind on something, there's no stopping him."
"Tell me about it," Brian smirked, having experienced his tenacity in more ways than one.
10:30 p.m.
Half an hour later, Brian was on the freeway, heading back toward the loft. Unfortunately, it had begun to snow during the fundraiser, leaving the roads covered with flakes. Again, Brian wished that Justin had been home earlier so that he could have taken the Jeep. Instead he was left navigating the slippery roads, hoping the 'Vette would remain stable.
As his attention turned back to the fundraiser, Brian knew he couldn't have asked for better timing when it came to meeting Stockwell. Just a few seconds earlier, and Stockwell would have walked in on him and his trick du jour. Now that would have been a sight to see. However, timing had been on his side, allowing Brian the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and plant a few necessary seeds in the police chief's head. Now all he had to do was sit back and wait for them to grow.
In the meantime, he planned on working a few of Stockwell's backers he had met that evening. It looked as if he would be able to lure some of them over to Kinnetic. Brian was confident that once Stockwell came to Kinnetic he could count on many of his fat cats following. Vance could eat his heart....
Suddenly Brian felt the back wheels of the 'Vette begin to slide. He slammed on the brakes in an attempt to stop the car from fishtailing. However, it was no use as the car instantly lost control and began spinning toward a ditch.
"Fuck!!!"
3:00 a.m.
The Loft
After spending several hours coming up with a strategy to pitch to Deekins, Justin, Brendan, and Nathan decided to call it a night. It had taken Justin longer than usual to drive home as three inches of snow had accumulated while he had been at the office. The blond was fortunate to have had the Jeep and its four-wheel-drive.
When he entered the loft, Justin was surprised to see Brian sitting on the living room floor with a bottle of Jim Beam.
"What are you doing up?" Justin asked, taking off his coat and entering the darkened living room.
"Where have you been?" Brian asked in a quiet voice.
"At the office," the blond gave his partner a perplexed stare.
"Try again, Sunshine." Cold hazel eyes looked into puzzled blue ones.
"I told you, I was at the office."
"Doing what?"
"Working on a project," Justin offered, completely baffled by his partner's behavior.
"Did it ever occur to you, that while you were at the office, you could have answered your damn cell phone?" Brian questioned. "Or even better, if you were at the office like you say you were, why didn't you answer the fucking phone that's on your desk?"
"Jesus Christ, Brian. What the hell is this, a fucking inquisition?"
"The game's up Sunshine," Brian stated in an icy voice. "I know you weren't at the office so cut the bullshit."
"So, Brian, if I wasn't at the office like you seem to believe, then where the fuck was I?" Justin demanded angrily. He couldn't believe the nerve of his partner.
"Obviously sweating over one of your projects," Brian gave a bitter laugh. "Tell me Sunshine, was he any good?"
"I don't fucking believe this!" the blond shook his head in disbelief. "Where the fuck do you get off?"
"Where do I get off?" Brian growled, standing up to face the blond. "I'll tell you where I get off. While you were getting your dick sucked, Sunshine, I was sitting in a fucking ditch for two hours waiting for the auto club."
"A ditch?" Justin repeated in shock. "God, Brian are you alri..."
"Two hours," Brian cut his lover off, "in which I ruined a $310 pair of Prada calfskin boots, my new $1,700 Zegna wool suit, and my $1,500 Italian cashmere overcoat."
"I see," Justin whispered. "But I take it you're alright?"
"Do I look alright to you?" Brian angrily demanded. "Christ, Justin, do you honestly think I'm alright when I have mud stains all over my new coat from trying to push the damn 'Vette out of a fucking ditch? Let's not even begin with the state of the 'Vette."
"Brian, I'm sorry. If I had known..." Justin began to apologize.
"Spare me your apologies. We both know sorry is bullshit. Next time I'll know better than to count on my partner," Brian stated in disgust, convinced that while he had been stuck in the ditch, Justin had been entertaining a trick.
"Dammit, Brian," Justin began to protest. "I told you, if I had known..."
"You would have stopped getting your dick sucked and would have come to my rescue? Somehow I doubt it," he scoffed.
"Fuck you, Brian. If anyone was getting his dick sucked tonight it was you, not me," Justin refuted.
"Yeah well, I obviously should have called him for help instead."
"I don't fucking believe you." Justin shook his head at his partner's sheer arrogance. "You're a fucking asshole and as for your poor Prada shoes, and your piece of shit Zegna suit, and your fucking Italian cashmere coat, it serves you right. Only a fool would drive a vintage Corvette in the middle of a snowstorm."
"Only a fool..."
"Spare me your tirade Brian," Justin cut his partner off. "I've had more than I can take," he declared before grabbing his coat and keys and storming out of the loft for the second night in a row, leaving his lover to lick his wounds with a bottle of Beam.
The Following Morning
10:00 a.m.
Kinnetik
After a sleepless night, arranging for a rental car, which turned into an absolute nightmare, and paying a visit to his mechanic only to learn that the 'Vette had two torn off tail pipes and a crack in its fender, Brian finally arrived at the office.
"Brian...." Cynthia attempted, sensing right away that her boss was in a mood by the bags under his eyes and the scowl on his face.
"Did Brown Athletics send their proofs back?" Brian interrupted, wanting to forget about Justin and his terrible morning and focus instead on business.
"They came yesterday but there's...." Cynthia tried again in vain as Brian entered his office to find Stockwell waiting for him with his advisors.
"Chief Stockwell," Brian greeted, acting as if he wasn't the slightest bit surprised or unprepared for the candidate's unexpected visit.
"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," Stockwell shook Brian's offered hand. "I hope you don't mind my dropping by announced..."
"Actually I was expecting you," Brian lied smoothly.
"I wanted my advisors Nancy Henderson and Dominic Scalatto to hear first hand what you told me in the men's room last night," the police chief explained.
"To make sure you flush?" Brian smirked, walking over to his desk and hanging up his coat. "Or that you're pissing away the money you spend on your ad campaign which amounts to the same thing," he added, taking a seat on the front of his desk.
"Mr. Kinney, do you mind if I ask, what do you know about running a political campaign?" Nancy Henderson questioned.
"Not a goddamned thing," Brian boldly admitted.
"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Dominic demanded of his boss.
"Because what Kinney said is true and he's the only one who's had the balls to say it," Stockwell declared before turning his attention back to Brian. "Please continue."
"Like I was saying, I may not know anything about politics but I know what sells and right now you've got a product that no one is buying," Brian stated.
"You make him sound like a box of cornflakes," Scalatto objected.
"Well that's exactly what he is," Brian announced. "Lucky for you, selling cornflakes is what I do best."
"Mr. Kinney," Nancy began to protest. "Jim Stockwell has a fifteen year record of fighting crime. As chief of police, he's defended not only our streets, but our traditions, our moral values. His mandate to serve is based on that commitment."
"Would you mind sparing me the bullshit rhetoric," Brian sighed. "We all know you love your family, your flag, your mother, but it's not going to get you arrested or in this case elected."
"What will?" Stockwell inquired.
"Something that will make the consumer want to buy your brand rather than the competition. Something that will attract their attention for more than fifteen minutes. Something that will make you pop," Brian declared, having Stockwell and his advisors exactly where he wanted them.
11:00 a.m.
Brian's Office
"So, do I even want to ask how it went?" Cynthia inquired, entering Brian's office once his meeting with Stockwell and his advisors had concluded.
"Quite well," Brian smirked.
"Lovely," the blonde frowned. "So, should I add him to your client list?"
"Not just yet. He said he needs a day to think things over. However, I'm more than confident he'll be back. He's by no means stupid. He knows if he wants to win, he's going to need my help."
"And you're willing to provide it?"
"Of course. I'm not a fool, Cynthia. Just because you don't seem to realize what representing him will do for Kinnetic, doesn't mean I don't. Trust me, after he wins the election, you'll be thanking me for my wise business sense."
"Somehow I doubt that. Speaking of business sense, do you know what client Justin is currently working on? According to August, he was here with Brendan and Nathan James until two-thirty in the morning. I guess the poor kid fell asleep in his office on his couch. He scared August half to death this morning."
"I..." Brian was at a loss for what to say. He couldn't believe he had correctly heard what Cynthia had just said.
"Is something wrong, Brian?" Cynthia asked, noticing her boss had suddenly lost all color in his face.
"No, nothing," Brian gave a dismissive shake of his head, quickly putting his mask back in place. "I just realized I forgot something," he murmured before hurrying toward Justin's office, horrified by the grave misjudgment he had made the previous evening.
***
"If you're looking for Justin, he's not here," August stated, as Brian approached his desk.
"I see," Brian murmured, trying to hold in the panic he was currently feeling.
"He said he was going to stop home and change his clothes before heading to class," Justin's assistant offered. "You might want to make sure he gets a decent night's sleep tonight. He looked absolutely exhausted."
"I'll see what I can do," Brian quietly promised. "Uh, thanks, Summers," he whispered before turning to head back to his office, angry with himself for his stupidity the night before.
4:00 p.m.
Brian paced his office for the tenth time that afternoon. Raking a hand through his hair, he cringed when he thought of his irrational behavior. Furious with Justin for not answering his cell phone, Brian had immediately let the doubts that had been plaguing him the past few weeks take over. He had been convinced that there could only be one reason why he wasn't answering. The mere thought of Justin entertaining a trick had quickly sent him over the edge, not to mention the damage to his clothes and the 'Vette.
Instead of acting rationally, and giving his partner a chance to explain, Brian had immediately set in on Justin. In Brian's mind, he had tried and convicted Justin long before the blond had made it home. Now he was pacing his office, desperately trying to find a way out of his current mess.
He knew he had no choice but to apologize, but somehow Brian doubted that would get him very far, especially with the rash accusations he had made. He also wouldn't get very far if Justin didn't come home again. Brian decided there was only one course of action when it came to his partner.
Sighing loudly, Brian picked up his cell phone off his desk and proceeded to dial Justin's number, praying his lover would answer the phone....
Meanwhile
Justin's Studio
PIFA
Justin stared at the empty canvas in front of him, reflecting back to the night before. He'd been stunned to have arrived home, only to find himself being accused of something he hadn't done. Brian had never questioned his actions before, and suddenly out of the blue he was accusing him of tricking. It made no sense for Brian to accuse him of tricking, not when the man himself tricked frequently. Especially not after Brian had obviously tricked a few hours earlier.
Rationally Justin knew Brian was taking his anger over his car and his clothes out on him, but that still didn't stop Brian's hurtful behavior from tearing at his insides. Had he known Brian had been in an accident, he would have immediately rushed to his side. However, the blond hadn't even thought to bring his cell phone into the conference room with him. He had assumed Brian made it home from the fundraiser in one piece. Hell, he hadn't even known it was snowing until he had left Kinnetic.
What hurt Justin the most about his partner's accusations was the fact that Brian hadn't even given him the chance to explain. Justin thought he at least owed him that, especially after everything they had been through together. Instead Brian had formed his own conclusions and had stuck to them, regardless of the fact they were completely unfounded. Especially since Justin hadn't tricked since London.
Justin's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he heard his cell phone ring. Reaching for the phone, he immediately saw that it was Brian. Instead of answering it, the artist stared at the phone as it continued to ring, not ready to speak to his lover. Not sure when he would be ready to forgive him....
Midnight
The Loft
Justin stood outside the loft staring at the steel door. He knew he couldn't hide from Brian forever, but that still didn't mean he wasn't hurting desperately. The blond didn't know if he could face him, not after everything that had been said the night before. However, the loft was also his home, and he had every right to be there.
Quietly sliding back the door, Justin entered the darkened living room that was illuminated by the city lights. After shedding his coat and resetting the alarm, Justin stood in the middle of the living room, and stared at the bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, he cautiously climbed the steps to the bedroom. Looking up, he saw that Brian was still awake and lying in bed. Turning his head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, Justin headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Minutes later, Justin re-entered the bedroom. Staring at the bed as if unsure of what to do, he turned to glance at the living room couch that looked more inviting under the circumstances. Suddenly hearing the rustling of blankets, Justin looked back at the bed to see that Brian had pulled back the duvet for him.
The blond hesitantly removed his shirt and shed his shoes and jeans, leaving only a pair of briefs remaining. He glanced at the bed again to see Brian's hazel eyes staring at him.
Justin turned away from his lover's gaze to look at the couch one last time, before slumping his shoulders in defeat and warily entering the bed.
Quickly turning his back to Brian, Justin was surprised to feel Brian carefully cover him with the duvet, his arm tentatively reaching out to stroke his shoulder. Remaining impassive, Justin felt himself being gently rolled onto his back. He looked up to see Brian looking deeply into his eyes.
"I'm sorry," came his lover's faint whisper, causing Justin's eyes to well up with tears. While a part of him wanted to accept Brian's apology, the other part couldn't, not after his partner's cruel accusations.
Justin chose instead to silently hold his lover's gaze for a few seconds before rolling back onto his side, and shutting him out.
***
Knowing there was nothing else he could do except give Justin time, Brian softly placed his arm around Justin, and pulled him close. While the blond at first stiffened in response, he soon let his body relax, causing Brian to feel relieved. Some how, some way, he would make things up to Justin, and find a way to curb the doubts that had been plaguing him since Justin's return from London. For now, all that mattered was the fact that he had come home, and he was in their bed where he belonged.
Thursday, January 29th
8:00 a.m.
The Loft
Justin was putting his cereal bowl away when Brian entered the kitchen the following morning, dressed for work in a gray Armani suit.
"Hey," Brian cautiously greeted, taking in his partner's appearance. Justin was dressed in a pair of black French Connection "Workwear Slouch" trousers and a dark brown chunky cable knit sweater.
"Hey," the blond said somberly as he went into the living room and grabbed his coat off the rack.
"You going to be in the office today?"
"On and off," Justin shrugged, not really in the mood to converse with his lover. He needed to focus on his meeting with Councilman Deekins later that afternoon.
"There's a new restaurant I'd like to try. I heard it got one star and the waiters four. Wanna check it out for lunch?" Brian casually offered, in an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere.
"Not today. I've got a meeting with a potential client this afternoon."
"Who's the client?" Brian inquired, surprised Justin hadn't mentioned the meeting before.
"No one important," Justin replied, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "I've got to run. I'm late as it is," he said, hurrying out the door, leaving Brian standing there with a regretful look on his face. It was obvious he still had his work cut out for him.
2:00 p.m.
Deekins Campaign Headquarters
Using his trademark arriving without an appointment strategy, Justin sat in the lobby of Deekins' campaign headquarters with Brendan and Nathan. He couldn't help but grin as he took in their appearances. They had decided that they weren't going to be ad men with Deekins. Instead they were going to be voters. Voters with style. Voters with ideas. Because of that, their suits had been left at home. Deekins saw enough suits on any given day, and if they wanted to get their point across, they needed clothes with attitude.
Justin had relied on his favorite designer, French Connection, while Brendan had settled for a pair of faded Lucky jeans, a white button down embroidered shirt with light blue stripes left un-tucked, and a vintage brown corduroy blazer. Nathan had chosen beige chinos from Club Monaco, along with a black sweater and leather jacket. With their clothes in place, now all they needed was for the councilman to agree to see them.
"You think this will work?" Brendan asked his friend.
"Of course it will," Justin assured. He wasn't about to leave until he met the Councilman, not when faced with Stockwell as the alternative.
"Don't look now, but here comes Deekins," Nathan murmured, as the group turned to see him approaching.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Deekins greeted, as Justin, Brendan, and Nathan stood up to meet him. "What can I do for you?"
"We'd like to have a few moments of your time," Justin began.
"I see. Unfortunately..."
"You'd like to lose the election?" Nathan interrupted.
"Lose the election?" Deekins questioned, surprised by the trio's audacity.
"You will if you don't do something about the way you're being marketed," Justin remarked.
"And just who do you Gentlemen represent?"
"Only a large percentage of your potential voting pool," Brendan responded.
"Uh-huh," Deekins nodded, intrigued by the comment.
"We're also from Kinnetik." Justin stated.
"Kinnetik? I've heard that name before," Deekins murmured, as he tried to place it.
"You should. It's only the hottest advertising agency in Pittsburgh. Justin," Nathan motioned to the blond, "also happens to be a partner. If I were in your shoes, I would take a minute out of your busy schedule and listen to what he has to say. The last thing you want is for us to be representing your competition."
***
"You're wasting too much time on Stockwell's supporters," Justin argued fifteen minutes later in the Councilman's office. After formally introducing themselves, he had begun his pitch in earnest "If you want to win this election, you're going to need to stop worrying about his agenda and start worrying about your own."
"But don't I need Stockwell's voters in order to win?" Deekins objected.
"Not necessarily," Nathan interjected. "However, one will never know unless you start focusing on the voters that matter."
"And who might these voters be?"
"Voters such as young people, minorities, women, and gays," Brendan replied.
"Without their overwhelming support, you don't have a chance in hell of winning this election," Justin stated.
"And how do you propose I win their overwhelming support?"
"By being the Anti-Stockwell." Justin revealed.
"The Anti-Stockwell?" Deekins repeated.
"We all know Stockwell loves his flag, his country, his mother, etc. However, that's not enough to get him elected, unless you continue focusing your campaign on his agenda," Justin continued.
"Instead of worrying about Stockwell's plans to make Pittsburgh family friendly, you should be worrying about your own plans for our city," Nathan offered. "Plans that are actually quite appealing to the voters you're after."
"Plans such as the rebirth of Pittsburgh that you're proposing," Brendan contributed.
"I see you've done your homework," Deekins observed.
"Of course we have," Justin grinned. "However, in order to take Pittsburgh from the depressing pit it's become and turn it into something urbanely hip, you're going to need a re-birth of your own. A rebirth of the cool so to speak."
"With us as your advertising team, we'll take this drab campaign of yours and turn it into to something hip, contemporary, and innovative," Nathan announced. "Something that will make you..."
"Pop," Justin finished for the ad executive.
"Interesting," Deekins nodded. "Can I ask why you think you're the men who can pull this off?"
"Simple," Justin began. "We're young and we've got fresh ideas. Let's face it, we're a hell of a lot more contemporary than your current team. In addition, we're not afraid to be on the cutting edge. The question is, are you willing to do what it takes to win this election?"
7:00 p.m.
The Loft
After his meeting with the Councilman, Justin returned to the loft to catch up on some homework and make dinner for himself. He had left the Councilman's office in good spirits. While Deekins hadn't outright agreed to their proposal he had asked for a few days to think about it. Justin had viewed this as a very good sign.
As he been put the finishing touches on his Greek salad, Justin was surprised to see Brian enter the loft. Typically his partner never made it home before seven-thirty. After a tense greeting, in which Brian had inquired if there was enough salad for both of them, Justin had begrudgingly set two places at the dining room table.
***
"How was your day?" Brian cautiously inquired as they sat down to have dinner.
"Fine." Justin still wasn't in the mood to talk.
"Did you meet with the potential client you mentioned this morning." Brian refused to allow Justin's one word response deter him.
"Yeah."
"How did it go?"
"Alright, I guess," Justin shrugged.
"You never mentioned who it was," Brian remarked.
"It's no one important."
"Huh," Brian murmured, realizing he was getting nowhere with this line of conversation. "I got the new proofs in for Brown yesterday. You should check them out if you're in the office tomorrow."
"Alright," Justin quietly agreed. He knew that Brian was trying to make an effort with him, but he just wasn't ready to get past everything that had happened in the past few days.
***
Several minutes later, Brian gave up attempts at conversation and the two men sat at the table quietly finishing their dinners. As soon as Justin was finished, he immediately got up and started clearing his plate and putting his dishes in the dishwasher. Brian soon came up behind and handed him his plate.
Feeling even more uncomfortable by his lover's nearness, Justin quickly added Brian's plate to the dishwasher and stepped away. Realizing he couldn't stand another minute in the tension filled loft, he started gathering some papers off their desk and reached for his messenger bag.
"Going somewhere?" Brian softly inquired.
"Yeah, there's a few things I want to take care of at the office," Justin replied, averting his eyes from his partner's.
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Brian sighed.
"No," Justin whispered before reaching for his coat and walking out on Brian once again.
"Fuck!" Brian shook his head in disbelief as Justin slid the door shut behind him. He didn't know how much more of this intolerable situation he was willing to put up with. He knew it was his fault, but he would have thought by now that Justin would have at least gotten over it. Instead his blond was still freezing him out, no matter how hard he was trying to make things right. If only he knew what he could do to convince Justin forgive him.
Friday
9:30 a.m.
Kinnetik
"I can already taste Stockwell's fat cats lining up at our door," Eric Fraser arrogantly remarked as he walked with Brian toward his office the following morning.
"And what a sight that will be," Brian smirked. He had a hunch that they would soon being hearing from Pittsburgh's illustrious police chief.
"An unpleasant sight at that," Cynthia commented as she approached the two men. "The asshole is waiting for you in your office," she announced.
"Gee thanks," Brian sarcastically replied, not at all pleased with his assistant's attitude. "Shall we go and meet our soon to be new client?" he turned to Fraser.
"Absolutely."
***
"I'm glad to see you've finally decided to take your campaign seriously," Brian stated, half an hour later, during which Stockwell had announced that he had decided to retain Kinnetic's services.
"Well, I've been told you're the best."
"That he is," Fraser agreed.
"Just don't make a joke out of me," Stockwell warned.
"I don't think there's the need to worry about that, not when in a few short months you'll be uncorking the champagne at your victory party."
"Brian?"
Brian suddenly turned around to see Justin standing in his doorway.
"Justin, you're just in time," Brian grinned, before turning towards Stockwell. "Jim, I would like you to meet my business partner, Justin Taylor," he introduced.
"It's a pleasure to meet....," Stockwell began to extend his hand.
"Brian, a word?" Justin demanded, not even dignifying the police chief with a second glance, before turning and stalking out of his lover's office.
***
"What the hell are you playing at?" Brian demanded angrily outside of his office.
"What the hell am I playing at?" Justin repeated.
"That's right. What makes you think you can treat one of our clients in such an appallingly rude fashion? Now if you know what's good for you, you'll get your ass back in there and apologize for your abominable behavior."
"I'm afraid I'm not willing to do that," Justin declared.
"Not willing to do that? What the fuck is wrong with you? He's our fucking client for Christ's sake. Look, I know you don't like him, but will you suck it up for once in your life and stop acting like a damn drama princess?"
"Suck it up like I did when I took a bat to the head?" Justin questioned in a quiet voice, his blue eyes like ice. "Suck it up when he refused to treat my bashing for the hate crime that it was and instead chose to treat it as a simple assault? Is that what you want me to do, Brian?" he whispered.
"Jus..." Brian breathed, shocked as he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach.
"There are a lot of things I would do for you, but apologizing to him is one thing I will never do," Justin vowed. "Now I would suggest you go back in there and get rid of that homophobic bastard. I'm afraid you won't be representing him now or any time in the future. You see Brian, while you were out courting the fascist, I was out courting Councilman Deekins. Lucky for Kinnetic, I signed him earlier this morning," Justin announced, before walking away, leaving Brian absolutely stunned.
10:30 a.m.
Brian's Office
"Conflict of Interest?" Eric Fraser stared at Brian in disbelief after Stockwell had left with his advisors minutes earlier. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"I'm afraid not," Brian stated.
"What the hell did Justin say to you to suddenly make you change your mind?"
"He signed Deekins this morning."
"Good grief! Why the hell did he do something stupid like that? He knew we had Stockwell in the bag."
"That's precisely why he signed Deekins."
"Christ, you mean to tell me that he signed Deekins intentionally so that we wouldn't be able to represent Stockwell?"
"Yep," Brian grimly confirmed.
"So, why didn't you tell him to get rid of Deekins?"
"It wasn't up for negotiation."
"Not up for negotiation. For fuck's sake, Brian. Anything is up for negotiation. Especially when he intentionally undermined us...."
"Look Fraser, I'm only going to say this once. Stockwell is history. The focus is now Deekins. If you don't fucking like it, there's the door. As for my partner, I would suggest you don't even think about questioning his motives in the future," Brian coolly stated.
"Can't I at least ask why he would do something like this?" Fraser protested.
"You wouldn't understand," Brian shook his head. "You're straight..."
***
Half an hour later, Brian sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He couldn't believe how he had let his ambition and greed make him lose sight of the man that Stockwell was. As soon as Justin had mentioned that horrible night over two years ago, the enormity of the situation had suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder Justin had objected so strongly to the bastard. Had he been thinking clearly, he would never have allowed himself to be tempted by Stockwell's backers, nor would he have ever considered representing the man. He had barely been able to stomach going back into his office to face the man without feeling his insides burn with hatred toward the homophobic asshole.
Now Brian was left with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He now understood why Justin had been so upset with him. It hadn't just been about his irrational accusations the night of the fundraiser, it had also been his refusal to acknowledge the grave injustice Stockwell had done to Justin. By choosing Stockwell, he had put both his greed and ambition in front of Justin, a decision he deeply regretted.
Brian knew his options were limited when it came to making things right with his lover again, but at this point he was willing to do whatever it took. Even the impossible. Sighing, he stood up from his desk, and ran a hand through his tousled hair before exiting his office.
Meanwhile
Justin's Office
Justin stood in his office, staring out the window. He thought back to the scene outside Brian's office earlier that morning. Unfortunately he had done what he had to do. He had stood up for what he believed in at the risk of the agency. Justin knew deep down that Kinnetic would have benefited from Stockwell's backers, but for him there were other things that were more important. Things like integrity. With Deekins Kinnetic could maintain its integrity, and that's what truly mattered.
While Justin knew he should be pleased with landing Deekins, it was a bittersweet success. He had forced Brian to give up a client. While he would have given anything to be able to celebrate his accomplishment with Brian, he knew it wasn't an option. All he could hope was that he would eventually understand why he had done it.
"Hey." Justin suddenly turned around to see Brian standing in the doorway.
"Hey," the blond acknowledged weakly.
"So, Marvin Deekins, it is?"
'Yeah," Justin quietly nodded.
"I take it you already have a plan in place to make him pop?"
"I do."
"Well, if you'd like a second opinion," Brian hesitantly began, "I'm sure I could uh, take a look at your ideas."
"Perhaps," Justin shrugged.
"After all, underdogs do have a certain appeal about them," Brian offered.
"True."
"So, uh, are you busy this afternoon?" Brian cautiously inquired.
"Not really," Justin replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I thought you might like to help a certain someone look for a new car. His current one is in the shop, and he was thinking of getting something, dare I say, more practical."
"I see," Justin looked at his lover in surprise.
"In addition, this certain someone could really use his partner's help," Brian added.
"We'll then I guess his partner will just have to tag along," Justin smiled.
"Are you sure?"
"Why not?" Justin grinned, knowing full well this was Brian's way of apologizing.
"Good, shall we depart then?"
"Sure, but first, I think there's something else that needs to be taken care of," Justin declared, leaning in, and pulling Brian into a fierce hug, proud that Brian had chosen the path toward integrity.
by Kim
Making it Through Another Summer
Chapter 2
Monday, January 26th
11:00 a.m.
Kinnetik
"Good morning, August," Justin greeted his assistant as he arrived in the office following class.
"Hi Justin," August smiled. "How was the weekend? It looks like you've recovered from your birthday."
"Yep," the blond nodded. His twenty-first birthday had been the previous Thursday and he had come into the office the following morning looking a little worse for wear. Ted and Emmett had insisted on plying him with drinks at both Woody's and Babylon. Brian, unfortunately, had been in New York on business, but had managed to make it home Friday night.
"Is that a new bracelet?" August asked, pointing to the sterling silver ID bracelet with gold accents that his boss was sporting on his right wrist.
"Uh, sort of," Justin shyly admitted, looking down at the bracelet.
"It looks like it may have come from Tiffany & Co."
"Maybe," the blond admitted with a faint blush.
"I see. So, Brian came through for your birthday after all? For someone who supposedly doesn't do birthdays, he certainly was generous," August observed.
"Let's just say he made an exception this year."
"Well, good for him. You deserve to have him show you how special you are once in a while."
"Thanks, August," Justin smiled, before heading toward his office, eager to start his day.
***
Sitting at his desk, Justin couldn't keep his thoughts off the bracelet. He was still shocked by his lover's gesture. Initially, he had been convinced that Brian wouldn't make an effort to acknowledge his birthday, especially when he was called away to New York on business. However, Brian had been full of surprises upon his return home. Since it was Justin's 21st birthday, Brian had decided to make an exception to his no birthdays policy, and had shocked Justin by laying the jeweler's famous blue box on his pillow.
Stunned, Justin opened the box to discover a Tiffany Gatelink ID bracelet nestled inside. Much to his surprise, Brian shared with him the history behind the bracelet. It turned out that the bracelet had actually been Brian's. He purchased it for himself after he graduated from Penn State and had started his job at the Ryder Agency. At the time, he felt he deserved a reward for his accomplishments. Since he hadn't been able to afford a Rolex, Brian had opted for the bracelet and had it engraved with his initials.
Brian quietly explained that since the bracelet had been replaced with a Rolex, he no longer had a need for it. However, when he had been reminded of Justin's approaching 21st birthday, he couldn't help but think it was time that he passed the bracelet on. Justin had after all grown into "the best homosexual" he could, and that in itself was an achievement worth celebrating. He had offered to get Justin's initials added to the bracelet, but the blond had refused, liking the bracelet just the way it was. It would be his own personal reminder of Brian's commitment and loyalty.
Noon
Liberty Avenue
Walking down Liberty Avenue on his lunch hour, Brian spotted Debbie and Vic holding petitions. It was obvious that they had taken up yet another cause, and as he approached the pair, his ears immediately picked up on Debbie's frustrated voice.
"Christ, we have an election coming up. You'd think these guys would give a shit about something else besides getting their dicks sucked."
"How about a rim job or a good old-fashioned fuck?" Brian sarcastically suggested as he stopped beside them.
"That's what I like, a non-partisan opinion," Vic laughed.
"When's the last time you voted?" Debbie huffed, not finding any humor in Brian's suggestion.
"Uh... Let's see, that would have to be the big basket contest at Woody's," Brian answered, not the least bit interested in politics.
"Voting's a serious business," Vic joked, finding humor in Brian's response.
"Especially this year," Debbie sighed, as she chose to ignore the ad executive's remark. "What if that asshole gets elected?"
"Which asshole?" Brian asked curiously. He hadn't even given the upcoming mayor's election a second thought.
"Christ," Debbie grumbled. "Where the fuck have you been?"
"Babylon, the baths," Brian shrugged.
"Our illustrious police chief is running for mayor," Vic explained, filling Brian in.
"And the polls show that he's running neck and neck with Councilman Deekins," Debbie added.
"Let me know who wins," Brian commented as he turned to leave. He had more important things to do, like getting back to the office, than worrying about the upcoming election.
"Hold it! You mean you don't care?" Debbie demanded in disbelief.
"You mean you're surprised?" Vic turned to his sister.
"I mean," Brian began, turning around to face the two of them. "I don't give a fuck whether it's the Democrat who pretends he likes you or the Republican who hates you and lets you know it. Either way, once they're in office they're not going to do a damn thing. So, I say let the best self-serving son of a bitch win," he declared, having decided a long time ago that politics was a waste of time. If only Debbie could come to the same realization. It would save her a tremendous amount of grief and aggravation.
12:30 p.m.
Kinnetik
As Brian approached his office, he was stopped by Eric Fraser, an up and coming senior account executive he had hired three months ago from a competing firm.
"Brian, you're not going to believe this," Fraser grinned from ear to ear.
"Believe what?"
"Let's just say I was able to land you and myself tickets for dinner with some of the fattest cats in all of the Pitts tomorrow evening."
"And where might that be?" Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.
"A fundraising dinner at The Westin Convention Center for our illustrious police chief, Jim Stockwell," Eric stated. "I don't know if you've noticed, but his current ad campaign totally sucks. I'm sure it wouldn't be that difficult for us to woo him over to Kinnetic."
"What makes you think I would be interested in attending this soirée tomorrow evening?" Brian drawled, not about to admit he was impressed by Fraser's resourcefulness.
"I think you know damn well what landing Stockwell would do for this agency. Think of all the backers that would be ripe for the picking," Eric smirked.
"I suppose you have a point, even if I find politics incredibly boring," Brian remarked. "However, I'm sure it wouldn't kill me to spend an evening among Stockwell's backers. In fact, it might prove to be quite profitable."
"Exactly," Eric agreed. "So, I'll see you at The Westin tomorrow night then?"
"Why not. See ya, Fraser," Brian said, pleased with this latest turn of events.
***
"Don't you think you're aiming a tad bit high?" Cynthia asked as she entered Brian's office a few minutes later, after having listened to his conversation with Fraser.
"Too high with what?" Brian looked up from his e-mail to give his assistant a puzzled stare.
"Stockwell."
"I hardly think going after a boring politician and his backers is considered aiming high," Brian refuted.
"Even when the politician has views that substantially differ from your own?"
"I could give a fuck what his views are. All I care about is his money. Hell, if I land Stockwell, I'll give you a raise. How does that sound?"
"Don't bother. I'm not laying a hand on that bastard's money," Cynthia declared before stalking out of her boss' office. She hoped somehow Justin could put a stop to Brian's insanity. Kinnetic didn't need Stockwell's money; it was doing quite well without it.
9:00 p.m.
The Loft
Justin was sitting at the dining room table working on a drawing when Brian entered the loft. He had gotten tied up with a proposal and had called to let Justin know he wouldn't be home in time for dinner.
"Hey," Justin looked up from his sketch to give his lover a warm smile.
"Hey."
"There's some jambalaya in the fridge if you want it," Justin offered as Brian set his briefcase down and began flipping through the mail that had been left on the counter.
"I think I'll pass," Brian murmured, opening a bill. "I ended up grabbing a sandwich at the office."
"Well, I seem to recall it always tastes better on the second day anyway," Justin commented, before turning his attention back to his drawing.
"Unfortunately, I won't be here for dinner tomorrow night either."
"You won't?"
"No. Eric Fraser landed tickets for Jim Stockwell's fundraiser at The Westin. I figured I might as well go and see if I can drum up some business...."
"Did you say Jim Stockwell?" Justin interrupted.
"Yeah, is there a problem?" Brian questioned, coming up behind his partner and wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Only the fact that the guy is a total homophobe," the blond shook his head in disbelief.
"Who gives a fuck? All I care about are his rich backers."
"And what if the only way to get to them is through him?" Justin stood up, sensing he wasn't going to like Brian's response.
"Then I guess that's what I'll have to do," Brian replied, not understanding why Justin seemed so upset.
"Brian, for fuck's sake. Stockwell is a fascist," Justin angrily protested. "He's a threat to everything and everyone we know."
"I doubt that," Brian refuted. "He's hardly a fascist; he's just another fucking politician."
"A politician who has done nothing for the gay community," the blond heatedly argued. "One who has turned a blind eye to the crimes committed against us. You call that being just another politician?"
"Sunshine, for God's sake, calm down," Brian ordered. "Look, you're forgetting about our business. If I can use Stockwell to add to our client list and make us a shit load of money, who cares if the guy is a homophobe."
"I care," Justin stated, getting up from the dining room table, grabbing his coat, and storming out of the loft. He didn't think he could stomach hearing another word about Stockwell.
Tuesday
Noon
Daphne's Apartment
"So, what's the problem with Brian going to a fundraiser for Stockwell?" Daphne asked as the two ate Thai food.
"Only the fact that Stockwell is a homophobe," Justin shook his head in disgust.
"True, but that doesn't mean Brian's suddenly going to be representing Stockwell," Daphne argued, attempting to ease her friend's worries.
"Oh, he will. This is Brian Kinney for fuck's sake. He'll do anything to land Stockwell's backers even if it means representing the fascist himself. All Brian cares about is taking our agency to the top, so he can prove to Vance and everyone else that he's the best."
"Can't you reason with him?"
"I tried that last night, and look where it got me, a few drinks at Woody's and a lousy night the sofa."
"Well, I guess all you can really do is wait and see what happens."
"And shake that fucker's hand when Brian introduces him as our newest client," Justin muttered in revulsion.
"There's always another option," Daphne offered.
"And that is?"
"Councilman Deekins."
"Deekins?"
"Why not? Just think, if you represented Deekins, there's no way Brian could bring Stockwell on board," Daphne reasoned.
"Daph, you're a genius," Justin grinned in amazement. "If I landed Deekins, Brian would have no choice but to forget his visions of grandeur when it comes to Stockwell."
"Then I guess there's your answer," Daphne stated.
"The question becomes then, how the hell do I go about landing Deekins?" Justin mused, knowing full well the councilman was his only option when it came to stopping Brian.
5:00 p.m.
The Loft
After stepping out of the shower, Brian headed into the bedroom in search of the perfect suit to wear that evening. With all of Stockwell's fat cats lurking in the background, he knew it was imperative that he looked like a million bucks. As he began flipping through his closet, he couldn't help but turn his eyes toward the living room.
He had hoped that by the time he had arrived home, Justin would be there. However, it was obvious the blond had not yet arrived. The couch still had the pillow and blanket he had dragged into the living room the night before, after arriving home several hours after his outburst. Brian suspected his partner was still sulking, but couldn't shake the feeling that had been nagging him all afternoon; where had he gone after his angry departure?
It wasn't the first time Brian had considered Justin's tricking since his lover's return from London. While in New York, Brian had thought about it then. He originally had no intention of celebrating Justin's birthday, but soon thoughts of him celebrating it with someone else, or even picking out his own little birthday present to bring back to the loft and enjoy, had Brian quickly reconsidering his birthday policy.
As it worked out, celebrating Justin's birthday upon his return from New York had been the right decision. He could still see the look of happiness on his lover's face as he opened the Tiffany bracelet, and after telling Justin the story behind the bracelet, they had enjoyed each other's bodies in every way imaginable.
While Brian thought this would dispel any urges for Justin to trick any time soon, he was now wondering if he had been wrong. However, he didn't have time to keep wondering about something that shouldn't be bothering him in the first place. He had more important things to worry about, like landing Stockwell's backers. With that in mind, Brian turned his attention away from the living room and back toward his closet.
7:00 p.m.
The Westin Hotel
"Just as I expected," Eric Fraser remarked, standing next to Brian as they scoped out the hotel ballroom. "Plenty of pricey prey swimming in these waters. Periscope depth, focus...." His eyes suddenly lit up as they spotted a potential target. "There's Bill Ransom over there, Jerusalem Steel. The red-head beside him is the gatekeeper," Eric indicated. "Get by her and you're in."
"Ah," Brian murmured, as his eyes continued to scan the room, searching for his own form of prey.
"Diane Overton, black dress by the bar," Fraser observed, cocking his head toward another potential client. "Pittsburgh Cancer Foundation. Lots of good leads through her."
"Yep," Brian concurred, fully aware of Ms. Overton's reputation.
"The man of the hour who everyone's anteed up $5,000 to shake hands with, Jim Stockwell," Fraser introduced, as Brian eyes locked on a different target standing across the room.
"Are you listening?" Eric noticed Brian's eyes were not focused on Stockwell. "You're paying a shitload of cash for us to be here."
"For which you should be eternally grateful," Brian sardonically commented, before turning to head across the room. There was someone who required his immediate attention, and it certainly wasn't the man of the hour.
"Where are you going?" Fraser demanded, stunned that his boss seemed completely disinterested in Stockwell.
"To fire a torpedo, sailor," Brian announced with a salute, as his eyes burned with lust. It had been over twenty-four hours since he last had any form of relief.
***
Several minutes later, after sating his lust in his trick, Brian exited the bathroom stall they had shared and walked toward the sinks just as Chief Stockwell entered the bathroom. Not one to let such an opportunity pass, Brian decided it was time to introduce himself.
"So, you're running for mayor?" he asked over his shoulder as Stockwell stood at the urinals.
"That's right," the chief confirmed.
"How's it going?" Brian drawled, zipping up his pants, and fixing his belt.
"Very well, thanks."
"Really?" Brian raised an eyebrow, straightening his suit jacket. "With all this money you're raising you should be out in front, but the polls show you're trailing Councilman Deekins."
"My opponent is ahead at this point by the narrowest of margins," Stockwell stated as he approached the sinks. "However, my advisors have informed me that we're well positioned to take the lead."
"Your advisors are blowing smoke up your ass," Brian sardonically remarked. "And your prepared remarks are as stale as the campaign you're running," he added.
"Thank you for your opinion Mr, uh," Stockwell turned towards Brian and politely offered his hand.
"Kinney," Brian clarified shaking Stockwell's hand. "Brian Kinney."
"It's always helpful hearing from one's supporters," Stockwell commented.
"I'm not a supporter," Brian quickly corrected the candidate. "I'm an ad man trying to drum up some business among your rich and powerful friends."
"Huh," the police chief murmured in surprise. "At least you're honest."
"I figure the best way to get in with them is to get in with you," Brian continued. "So, if you ever get tired of pissing your pals' millions away on an ad campaign that has you positioned exactly where your advisors want you to be, give me a call," he suggested, handing Stockwell his business card and turning to leave, having clearly fired more than one torpedo in the men's room.
Meanwhile
A Conference Room
Kinnetik
"Let me see if I have this straight," Nathan James, a young ad executive Justin often worked closely with began, "you want to go after Marvin Deekins?"
"Yep," Justin nodded.
"Interesting," Nathan murmured. "What do you think?" he asked, turning to Brendan.
"Why not? Let's face it, who the fuck wants Stockwell?"
"Probably the majority of our agency," Nathan argued.
"True, but as I said earlier, the guy is a fascist. Do we really want to associate Kinnetic with someone like him?" Justin countered.
"You have a point. Personally, I find the guy's family friendly Pittsburgh rhetoric a bit on the nauseating side," Nathan conceded.
"Same here," Brendan agreed. "I say, let Vance have the asshole. They're perfect for each other."
"Vance and Stockwell," Justin laughed. "Who could ask for a better match?"
"I'd be hard pressed to find one," Brendan commented.
"So, what do you think, Nathan? Shall we leave Vance to keeping Stockwell busy wining and dining the elite and preaching his family values bullshit?" Justin asked.
"Why not," Nathan shrugged. "I suppose representing Deekins would be a challenge, and you know damn well I'm always up for a challenge," he grinned.
"Why do you think I asked you here tonight?" Justin smiled, glad his instincts about the ad executive had been dead on.
"So Deekins it is," Brendan surmised. "Now the question is, how do we land him?"
10:00 p.m.
The Westin Hotel
"Brian Kinney." A familiar British accent drawled from behind as Brian stood talking to Eric.
"Vance," Brian turned and gave his former business partner and current nemesis a smirk.
"I see you've got your eye on the man of the hour."
"Ah, but so do you," Brian couldn't help but point out.
"You don't really think Chief Stockwell would lower himself to work with you and that kid you call a business partner, do you?"
"Do you really think he would lower himself to work with an aging ad executive with stale ideas?" Brian coolly shot back.
"At least the majority of my time isn't spent baby-sitting my business partner because he's not cut out for his job," Vance argued.
"I would much rather baby-sit than worry about when my partner is going to stab me in the back," Brian offered dryly, as he turned to leave. He'd had more than enough of Pittsburgh's elite for an evening.
***
"What an asshole," Eric grumbled, as he headed out of the hotel with Brian.
"He's an arrogant bastard, isn't he?" Brian observed.
"If he only knew what an asset Justin is to Kinnetic," Eric shook his head in disbelief.
"I guess he'll just have to wait until Justin steals one of his accounts," Brian remarked, feeling it would be sooner rather than later.
"I can just see the look on Vance's face," Fraser laughed. "He still doesn't realize how tenacious Justin is. Christ, when that kid sets his mind on something, there's no stopping him."
"Tell me about it," Brian smirked, having experienced his tenacity in more ways than one.
10:30 p.m.
Half an hour later, Brian was on the freeway, heading back toward the loft. Unfortunately, it had begun to snow during the fundraiser, leaving the roads covered with flakes. Again, Brian wished that Justin had been home earlier so that he could have taken the Jeep. Instead he was left navigating the slippery roads, hoping the 'Vette would remain stable.
As his attention turned back to the fundraiser, Brian knew he couldn't have asked for better timing when it came to meeting Stockwell. Just a few seconds earlier, and Stockwell would have walked in on him and his trick du jour. Now that would have been a sight to see. However, timing had been on his side, allowing Brian the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and plant a few necessary seeds in the police chief's head. Now all he had to do was sit back and wait for them to grow.
In the meantime, he planned on working a few of Stockwell's backers he had met that evening. It looked as if he would be able to lure some of them over to Kinnetic. Brian was confident that once Stockwell came to Kinnetic he could count on many of his fat cats following. Vance could eat his heart....
Suddenly Brian felt the back wheels of the 'Vette begin to slide. He slammed on the brakes in an attempt to stop the car from fishtailing. However, it was no use as the car instantly lost control and began spinning toward a ditch.
"Fuck!!!"
3:00 a.m.
The Loft
After spending several hours coming up with a strategy to pitch to Deekins, Justin, Brendan, and Nathan decided to call it a night. It had taken Justin longer than usual to drive home as three inches of snow had accumulated while he had been at the office. The blond was fortunate to have had the Jeep and its four-wheel-drive.
When he entered the loft, Justin was surprised to see Brian sitting on the living room floor with a bottle of Jim Beam.
"What are you doing up?" Justin asked, taking off his coat and entering the darkened living room.
"Where have you been?" Brian asked in a quiet voice.
"At the office," the blond gave his partner a perplexed stare.
"Try again, Sunshine." Cold hazel eyes looked into puzzled blue ones.
"I told you, I was at the office."
"Doing what?"
"Working on a project," Justin offered, completely baffled by his partner's behavior.
"Did it ever occur to you, that while you were at the office, you could have answered your damn cell phone?" Brian questioned. "Or even better, if you were at the office like you say you were, why didn't you answer the fucking phone that's on your desk?"
"Jesus Christ, Brian. What the hell is this, a fucking inquisition?"
"The game's up Sunshine," Brian stated in an icy voice. "I know you weren't at the office so cut the bullshit."
"So, Brian, if I wasn't at the office like you seem to believe, then where the fuck was I?" Justin demanded angrily. He couldn't believe the nerve of his partner.
"Obviously sweating over one of your projects," Brian gave a bitter laugh. "Tell me Sunshine, was he any good?"
"I don't fucking believe this!" the blond shook his head in disbelief. "Where the fuck do you get off?"
"Where do I get off?" Brian growled, standing up to face the blond. "I'll tell you where I get off. While you were getting your dick sucked, Sunshine, I was sitting in a fucking ditch for two hours waiting for the auto club."
"A ditch?" Justin repeated in shock. "God, Brian are you alri..."
"Two hours," Brian cut his lover off, "in which I ruined a $310 pair of Prada calfskin boots, my new $1,700 Zegna wool suit, and my $1,500 Italian cashmere overcoat."
"I see," Justin whispered. "But I take it you're alright?"
"Do I look alright to you?" Brian angrily demanded. "Christ, Justin, do you honestly think I'm alright when I have mud stains all over my new coat from trying to push the damn 'Vette out of a fucking ditch? Let's not even begin with the state of the 'Vette."
"Brian, I'm sorry. If I had known..." Justin began to apologize.
"Spare me your apologies. We both know sorry is bullshit. Next time I'll know better than to count on my partner," Brian stated in disgust, convinced that while he had been stuck in the ditch, Justin had been entertaining a trick.
"Dammit, Brian," Justin began to protest. "I told you, if I had known..."
"You would have stopped getting your dick sucked and would have come to my rescue? Somehow I doubt it," he scoffed.
"Fuck you, Brian. If anyone was getting his dick sucked tonight it was you, not me," Justin refuted.
"Yeah well, I obviously should have called him for help instead."
"I don't fucking believe you." Justin shook his head at his partner's sheer arrogance. "You're a fucking asshole and as for your poor Prada shoes, and your piece of shit Zegna suit, and your fucking Italian cashmere coat, it serves you right. Only a fool would drive a vintage Corvette in the middle of a snowstorm."
"Only a fool..."
"Spare me your tirade Brian," Justin cut his partner off. "I've had more than I can take," he declared before grabbing his coat and keys and storming out of the loft for the second night in a row, leaving his lover to lick his wounds with a bottle of Beam.
The Following Morning
10:00 a.m.
Kinnetik
After a sleepless night, arranging for a rental car, which turned into an absolute nightmare, and paying a visit to his mechanic only to learn that the 'Vette had two torn off tail pipes and a crack in its fender, Brian finally arrived at the office.
"Brian...." Cynthia attempted, sensing right away that her boss was in a mood by the bags under his eyes and the scowl on his face.
"Did Brown Athletics send their proofs back?" Brian interrupted, wanting to forget about Justin and his terrible morning and focus instead on business.
"They came yesterday but there's...." Cynthia tried again in vain as Brian entered his office to find Stockwell waiting for him with his advisors.
"Chief Stockwell," Brian greeted, acting as if he wasn't the slightest bit surprised or unprepared for the candidate's unexpected visit.
"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," Stockwell shook Brian's offered hand. "I hope you don't mind my dropping by announced..."
"Actually I was expecting you," Brian lied smoothly.
"I wanted my advisors Nancy Henderson and Dominic Scalatto to hear first hand what you told me in the men's room last night," the police chief explained.
"To make sure you flush?" Brian smirked, walking over to his desk and hanging up his coat. "Or that you're pissing away the money you spend on your ad campaign which amounts to the same thing," he added, taking a seat on the front of his desk.
"Mr. Kinney, do you mind if I ask, what do you know about running a political campaign?" Nancy Henderson questioned.
"Not a goddamned thing," Brian boldly admitted.
"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Dominic demanded of his boss.
"Because what Kinney said is true and he's the only one who's had the balls to say it," Stockwell declared before turning his attention back to Brian. "Please continue."
"Like I was saying, I may not know anything about politics but I know what sells and right now you've got a product that no one is buying," Brian stated.
"You make him sound like a box of cornflakes," Scalatto objected.
"Well that's exactly what he is," Brian announced. "Lucky for you, selling cornflakes is what I do best."
"Mr. Kinney," Nancy began to protest. "Jim Stockwell has a fifteen year record of fighting crime. As chief of police, he's defended not only our streets, but our traditions, our moral values. His mandate to serve is based on that commitment."
"Would you mind sparing me the bullshit rhetoric," Brian sighed. "We all know you love your family, your flag, your mother, but it's not going to get you arrested or in this case elected."
"What will?" Stockwell inquired.
"Something that will make the consumer want to buy your brand rather than the competition. Something that will attract their attention for more than fifteen minutes. Something that will make you pop," Brian declared, having Stockwell and his advisors exactly where he wanted them.
11:00 a.m.
Brian's Office
"So, do I even want to ask how it went?" Cynthia inquired, entering Brian's office once his meeting with Stockwell and his advisors had concluded.
"Quite well," Brian smirked.
"Lovely," the blonde frowned. "So, should I add him to your client list?"
"Not just yet. He said he needs a day to think things over. However, I'm more than confident he'll be back. He's by no means stupid. He knows if he wants to win, he's going to need my help."
"And you're willing to provide it?"
"Of course. I'm not a fool, Cynthia. Just because you don't seem to realize what representing him will do for Kinnetic, doesn't mean I don't. Trust me, after he wins the election, you'll be thanking me for my wise business sense."
"Somehow I doubt that. Speaking of business sense, do you know what client Justin is currently working on? According to August, he was here with Brendan and Nathan James until two-thirty in the morning. I guess the poor kid fell asleep in his office on his couch. He scared August half to death this morning."
"I..." Brian was at a loss for what to say. He couldn't believe he had correctly heard what Cynthia had just said.
"Is something wrong, Brian?" Cynthia asked, noticing her boss had suddenly lost all color in his face.
"No, nothing," Brian gave a dismissive shake of his head, quickly putting his mask back in place. "I just realized I forgot something," he murmured before hurrying toward Justin's office, horrified by the grave misjudgment he had made the previous evening.
***
"If you're looking for Justin, he's not here," August stated, as Brian approached his desk.
"I see," Brian murmured, trying to hold in the panic he was currently feeling.
"He said he was going to stop home and change his clothes before heading to class," Justin's assistant offered. "You might want to make sure he gets a decent night's sleep tonight. He looked absolutely exhausted."
"I'll see what I can do," Brian quietly promised. "Uh, thanks, Summers," he whispered before turning to head back to his office, angry with himself for his stupidity the night before.
4:00 p.m.
Brian paced his office for the tenth time that afternoon. Raking a hand through his hair, he cringed when he thought of his irrational behavior. Furious with Justin for not answering his cell phone, Brian had immediately let the doubts that had been plaguing him the past few weeks take over. He had been convinced that there could only be one reason why he wasn't answering. The mere thought of Justin entertaining a trick had quickly sent him over the edge, not to mention the damage to his clothes and the 'Vette.
Instead of acting rationally, and giving his partner a chance to explain, Brian had immediately set in on Justin. In Brian's mind, he had tried and convicted Justin long before the blond had made it home. Now he was pacing his office, desperately trying to find a way out of his current mess.
He knew he had no choice but to apologize, but somehow Brian doubted that would get him very far, especially with the rash accusations he had made. He also wouldn't get very far if Justin didn't come home again. Brian decided there was only one course of action when it came to his partner.
Sighing loudly, Brian picked up his cell phone off his desk and proceeded to dial Justin's number, praying his lover would answer the phone....
Meanwhile
Justin's Studio
PIFA
Justin stared at the empty canvas in front of him, reflecting back to the night before. He'd been stunned to have arrived home, only to find himself being accused of something he hadn't done. Brian had never questioned his actions before, and suddenly out of the blue he was accusing him of tricking. It made no sense for Brian to accuse him of tricking, not when the man himself tricked frequently. Especially not after Brian had obviously tricked a few hours earlier.
Rationally Justin knew Brian was taking his anger over his car and his clothes out on him, but that still didn't stop Brian's hurtful behavior from tearing at his insides. Had he known Brian had been in an accident, he would have immediately rushed to his side. However, the blond hadn't even thought to bring his cell phone into the conference room with him. He had assumed Brian made it home from the fundraiser in one piece. Hell, he hadn't even known it was snowing until he had left Kinnetic.
What hurt Justin the most about his partner's accusations was the fact that Brian hadn't even given him the chance to explain. Justin thought he at least owed him that, especially after everything they had been through together. Instead Brian had formed his own conclusions and had stuck to them, regardless of the fact they were completely unfounded. Especially since Justin hadn't tricked since London.
Justin's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he heard his cell phone ring. Reaching for the phone, he immediately saw that it was Brian. Instead of answering it, the artist stared at the phone as it continued to ring, not ready to speak to his lover. Not sure when he would be ready to forgive him....
Midnight
The Loft
Justin stood outside the loft staring at the steel door. He knew he couldn't hide from Brian forever, but that still didn't mean he wasn't hurting desperately. The blond didn't know if he could face him, not after everything that had been said the night before. However, the loft was also his home, and he had every right to be there.
Quietly sliding back the door, Justin entered the darkened living room that was illuminated by the city lights. After shedding his coat and resetting the alarm, Justin stood in the middle of the living room, and stared at the bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, he cautiously climbed the steps to the bedroom. Looking up, he saw that Brian was still awake and lying in bed. Turning his head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, Justin headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Minutes later, Justin re-entered the bedroom. Staring at the bed as if unsure of what to do, he turned to glance at the living room couch that looked more inviting under the circumstances. Suddenly hearing the rustling of blankets, Justin looked back at the bed to see that Brian had pulled back the duvet for him.
The blond hesitantly removed his shirt and shed his shoes and jeans, leaving only a pair of briefs remaining. He glanced at the bed again to see Brian's hazel eyes staring at him.
Justin turned away from his lover's gaze to look at the couch one last time, before slumping his shoulders in defeat and warily entering the bed.
Quickly turning his back to Brian, Justin was surprised to feel Brian carefully cover him with the duvet, his arm tentatively reaching out to stroke his shoulder. Remaining impassive, Justin felt himself being gently rolled onto his back. He looked up to see Brian looking deeply into his eyes.
"I'm sorry," came his lover's faint whisper, causing Justin's eyes to well up with tears. While a part of him wanted to accept Brian's apology, the other part couldn't, not after his partner's cruel accusations.
Justin chose instead to silently hold his lover's gaze for a few seconds before rolling back onto his side, and shutting him out.
***
Knowing there was nothing else he could do except give Justin time, Brian softly placed his arm around Justin, and pulled him close. While the blond at first stiffened in response, he soon let his body relax, causing Brian to feel relieved. Some how, some way, he would make things up to Justin, and find a way to curb the doubts that had been plaguing him since Justin's return from London. For now, all that mattered was the fact that he had come home, and he was in their bed where he belonged.
Thursday, January 29th
8:00 a.m.
The Loft
Justin was putting his cereal bowl away when Brian entered the kitchen the following morning, dressed for work in a gray Armani suit.
"Hey," Brian cautiously greeted, taking in his partner's appearance. Justin was dressed in a pair of black French Connection "Workwear Slouch" trousers and a dark brown chunky cable knit sweater.
"Hey," the blond said somberly as he went into the living room and grabbed his coat off the rack.
"You going to be in the office today?"
"On and off," Justin shrugged, not really in the mood to converse with his lover. He needed to focus on his meeting with Councilman Deekins later that afternoon.
"There's a new restaurant I'd like to try. I heard it got one star and the waiters four. Wanna check it out for lunch?" Brian casually offered, in an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere.
"Not today. I've got a meeting with a potential client this afternoon."
"Who's the client?" Brian inquired, surprised Justin hadn't mentioned the meeting before.
"No one important," Justin replied, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "I've got to run. I'm late as it is," he said, hurrying out the door, leaving Brian standing there with a regretful look on his face. It was obvious he still had his work cut out for him.
2:00 p.m.
Deekins Campaign Headquarters
Using his trademark arriving without an appointment strategy, Justin sat in the lobby of Deekins' campaign headquarters with Brendan and Nathan. He couldn't help but grin as he took in their appearances. They had decided that they weren't going to be ad men with Deekins. Instead they were going to be voters. Voters with style. Voters with ideas. Because of that, their suits had been left at home. Deekins saw enough suits on any given day, and if they wanted to get their point across, they needed clothes with attitude.
Justin had relied on his favorite designer, French Connection, while Brendan had settled for a pair of faded Lucky jeans, a white button down embroidered shirt with light blue stripes left un-tucked, and a vintage brown corduroy blazer. Nathan had chosen beige chinos from Club Monaco, along with a black sweater and leather jacket. With their clothes in place, now all they needed was for the councilman to agree to see them.
"You think this will work?" Brendan asked his friend.
"Of course it will," Justin assured. He wasn't about to leave until he met the Councilman, not when faced with Stockwell as the alternative.
"Don't look now, but here comes Deekins," Nathan murmured, as the group turned to see him approaching.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Deekins greeted, as Justin, Brendan, and Nathan stood up to meet him. "What can I do for you?"
"We'd like to have a few moments of your time," Justin began.
"I see. Unfortunately..."
"You'd like to lose the election?" Nathan interrupted.
"Lose the election?" Deekins questioned, surprised by the trio's audacity.
"You will if you don't do something about the way you're being marketed," Justin remarked.
"And just who do you Gentlemen represent?"
"Only a large percentage of your potential voting pool," Brendan responded.
"Uh-huh," Deekins nodded, intrigued by the comment.
"We're also from Kinnetik." Justin stated.
"Kinnetik? I've heard that name before," Deekins murmured, as he tried to place it.
"You should. It's only the hottest advertising agency in Pittsburgh. Justin," Nathan motioned to the blond, "also happens to be a partner. If I were in your shoes, I would take a minute out of your busy schedule and listen to what he has to say. The last thing you want is for us to be representing your competition."
***
"You're wasting too much time on Stockwell's supporters," Justin argued fifteen minutes later in the Councilman's office. After formally introducing themselves, he had begun his pitch in earnest "If you want to win this election, you're going to need to stop worrying about his agenda and start worrying about your own."
"But don't I need Stockwell's voters in order to win?" Deekins objected.
"Not necessarily," Nathan interjected. "However, one will never know unless you start focusing on the voters that matter."
"And who might these voters be?"
"Voters such as young people, minorities, women, and gays," Brendan replied.
"Without their overwhelming support, you don't have a chance in hell of winning this election," Justin stated.
"And how do you propose I win their overwhelming support?"
"By being the Anti-Stockwell." Justin revealed.
"The Anti-Stockwell?" Deekins repeated.
"We all know Stockwell loves his flag, his country, his mother, etc. However, that's not enough to get him elected, unless you continue focusing your campaign on his agenda," Justin continued.
"Instead of worrying about Stockwell's plans to make Pittsburgh family friendly, you should be worrying about your own plans for our city," Nathan offered. "Plans that are actually quite appealing to the voters you're after."
"Plans such as the rebirth of Pittsburgh that you're proposing," Brendan contributed.
"I see you've done your homework," Deekins observed.
"Of course we have," Justin grinned. "However, in order to take Pittsburgh from the depressing pit it's become and turn it into something urbanely hip, you're going to need a re-birth of your own. A rebirth of the cool so to speak."
"With us as your advertising team, we'll take this drab campaign of yours and turn it into to something hip, contemporary, and innovative," Nathan announced. "Something that will make you..."
"Pop," Justin finished for the ad executive.
"Interesting," Deekins nodded. "Can I ask why you think you're the men who can pull this off?"
"Simple," Justin began. "We're young and we've got fresh ideas. Let's face it, we're a hell of a lot more contemporary than your current team. In addition, we're not afraid to be on the cutting edge. The question is, are you willing to do what it takes to win this election?"
7:00 p.m.
The Loft
After his meeting with the Councilman, Justin returned to the loft to catch up on some homework and make dinner for himself. He had left the Councilman's office in good spirits. While Deekins hadn't outright agreed to their proposal he had asked for a few days to think about it. Justin had viewed this as a very good sign.
As he been put the finishing touches on his Greek salad, Justin was surprised to see Brian enter the loft. Typically his partner never made it home before seven-thirty. After a tense greeting, in which Brian had inquired if there was enough salad for both of them, Justin had begrudgingly set two places at the dining room table.
***
"How was your day?" Brian cautiously inquired as they sat down to have dinner.
"Fine." Justin still wasn't in the mood to talk.
"Did you meet with the potential client you mentioned this morning." Brian refused to allow Justin's one word response deter him.
"Yeah."
"How did it go?"
"Alright, I guess," Justin shrugged.
"You never mentioned who it was," Brian remarked.
"It's no one important."
"Huh," Brian murmured, realizing he was getting nowhere with this line of conversation. "I got the new proofs in for Brown yesterday. You should check them out if you're in the office tomorrow."
"Alright," Justin quietly agreed. He knew that Brian was trying to make an effort with him, but he just wasn't ready to get past everything that had happened in the past few days.
***
Several minutes later, Brian gave up attempts at conversation and the two men sat at the table quietly finishing their dinners. As soon as Justin was finished, he immediately got up and started clearing his plate and putting his dishes in the dishwasher. Brian soon came up behind and handed him his plate.
Feeling even more uncomfortable by his lover's nearness, Justin quickly added Brian's plate to the dishwasher and stepped away. Realizing he couldn't stand another minute in the tension filled loft, he started gathering some papers off their desk and reached for his messenger bag.
"Going somewhere?" Brian softly inquired.
"Yeah, there's a few things I want to take care of at the office," Justin replied, averting his eyes from his partner's.
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Brian sighed.
"No," Justin whispered before reaching for his coat and walking out on Brian once again.
"Fuck!" Brian shook his head in disbelief as Justin slid the door shut behind him. He didn't know how much more of this intolerable situation he was willing to put up with. He knew it was his fault, but he would have thought by now that Justin would have at least gotten over it. Instead his blond was still freezing him out, no matter how hard he was trying to make things right. If only he knew what he could do to convince Justin forgive him.
Friday
9:30 a.m.
Kinnetik
"I can already taste Stockwell's fat cats lining up at our door," Eric Fraser arrogantly remarked as he walked with Brian toward his office the following morning.
"And what a sight that will be," Brian smirked. He had a hunch that they would soon being hearing from Pittsburgh's illustrious police chief.
"An unpleasant sight at that," Cynthia commented as she approached the two men. "The asshole is waiting for you in your office," she announced.
"Gee thanks," Brian sarcastically replied, not at all pleased with his assistant's attitude. "Shall we go and meet our soon to be new client?" he turned to Fraser.
"Absolutely."
***
"I'm glad to see you've finally decided to take your campaign seriously," Brian stated, half an hour later, during which Stockwell had announced that he had decided to retain Kinnetic's services.
"Well, I've been told you're the best."
"That he is," Fraser agreed.
"Just don't make a joke out of me," Stockwell warned.
"I don't think there's the need to worry about that, not when in a few short months you'll be uncorking the champagne at your victory party."
"Brian?"
Brian suddenly turned around to see Justin standing in his doorway.
"Justin, you're just in time," Brian grinned, before turning towards Stockwell. "Jim, I would like you to meet my business partner, Justin Taylor," he introduced.
"It's a pleasure to meet....," Stockwell began to extend his hand.
"Brian, a word?" Justin demanded, not even dignifying the police chief with a second glance, before turning and stalking out of his lover's office.
***
"What the hell are you playing at?" Brian demanded angrily outside of his office.
"What the hell am I playing at?" Justin repeated.
"That's right. What makes you think you can treat one of our clients in such an appallingly rude fashion? Now if you know what's good for you, you'll get your ass back in there and apologize for your abominable behavior."
"I'm afraid I'm not willing to do that," Justin declared.
"Not willing to do that? What the fuck is wrong with you? He's our fucking client for Christ's sake. Look, I know you don't like him, but will you suck it up for once in your life and stop acting like a damn drama princess?"
"Suck it up like I did when I took a bat to the head?" Justin questioned in a quiet voice, his blue eyes like ice. "Suck it up when he refused to treat my bashing for the hate crime that it was and instead chose to treat it as a simple assault? Is that what you want me to do, Brian?" he whispered.
"Jus..." Brian breathed, shocked as he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach.
"There are a lot of things I would do for you, but apologizing to him is one thing I will never do," Justin vowed. "Now I would suggest you go back in there and get rid of that homophobic bastard. I'm afraid you won't be representing him now or any time in the future. You see Brian, while you were out courting the fascist, I was out courting Councilman Deekins. Lucky for Kinnetic, I signed him earlier this morning," Justin announced, before walking away, leaving Brian absolutely stunned.
10:30 a.m.
Brian's Office
"Conflict of Interest?" Eric Fraser stared at Brian in disbelief after Stockwell had left with his advisors minutes earlier. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"I'm afraid not," Brian stated.
"What the hell did Justin say to you to suddenly make you change your mind?"
"He signed Deekins this morning."
"Good grief! Why the hell did he do something stupid like that? He knew we had Stockwell in the bag."
"That's precisely why he signed Deekins."
"Christ, you mean to tell me that he signed Deekins intentionally so that we wouldn't be able to represent Stockwell?"
"Yep," Brian grimly confirmed.
"So, why didn't you tell him to get rid of Deekins?"
"It wasn't up for negotiation."
"Not up for negotiation. For fuck's sake, Brian. Anything is up for negotiation. Especially when he intentionally undermined us...."
"Look Fraser, I'm only going to say this once. Stockwell is history. The focus is now Deekins. If you don't fucking like it, there's the door. As for my partner, I would suggest you don't even think about questioning his motives in the future," Brian coolly stated.
"Can't I at least ask why he would do something like this?" Fraser protested.
"You wouldn't understand," Brian shook his head. "You're straight..."
***
Half an hour later, Brian sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He couldn't believe how he had let his ambition and greed make him lose sight of the man that Stockwell was. As soon as Justin had mentioned that horrible night over two years ago, the enormity of the situation had suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder Justin had objected so strongly to the bastard. Had he been thinking clearly, he would never have allowed himself to be tempted by Stockwell's backers, nor would he have ever considered representing the man. He had barely been able to stomach going back into his office to face the man without feeling his insides burn with hatred toward the homophobic asshole.
Now Brian was left with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He now understood why Justin had been so upset with him. It hadn't just been about his irrational accusations the night of the fundraiser, it had also been his refusal to acknowledge the grave injustice Stockwell had done to Justin. By choosing Stockwell, he had put both his greed and ambition in front of Justin, a decision he deeply regretted.
Brian knew his options were limited when it came to making things right with his lover again, but at this point he was willing to do whatever it took. Even the impossible. Sighing, he stood up from his desk, and ran a hand through his tousled hair before exiting his office.
Meanwhile
Justin's Office
Justin stood in his office, staring out the window. He thought back to the scene outside Brian's office earlier that morning. Unfortunately he had done what he had to do. He had stood up for what he believed in at the risk of the agency. Justin knew deep down that Kinnetic would have benefited from Stockwell's backers, but for him there were other things that were more important. Things like integrity. With Deekins Kinnetic could maintain its integrity, and that's what truly mattered.
While Justin knew he should be pleased with landing Deekins, it was a bittersweet success. He had forced Brian to give up a client. While he would have given anything to be able to celebrate his accomplishment with Brian, he knew it wasn't an option. All he could hope was that he would eventually understand why he had done it.
"Hey." Justin suddenly turned around to see Brian standing in the doorway.
"Hey," the blond acknowledged weakly.
"So, Marvin Deekins, it is?"
'Yeah," Justin quietly nodded.
"I take it you already have a plan in place to make him pop?"
"I do."
"Well, if you'd like a second opinion," Brian hesitantly began, "I'm sure I could uh, take a look at your ideas."
"Perhaps," Justin shrugged.
"After all, underdogs do have a certain appeal about them," Brian offered.
"True."
"So, uh, are you busy this afternoon?" Brian cautiously inquired.
"Not really," Justin replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I thought you might like to help a certain someone look for a new car. His current one is in the shop, and he was thinking of getting something, dare I say, more practical."
"I see," Justin looked at his lover in surprise.
"In addition, this certain someone could really use his partner's help," Brian added.
"We'll then I guess his partner will just have to tag along," Justin smiled.
"Are you sure?"
"Why not?" Justin grinned, knowing full well this was Brian's way of apologizing.
"Good, shall we depart then?"
"Sure, but first, I think there's something else that needs to be taken care of," Justin declared, leaning in, and pulling Brian into a fierce hug, proud that Brian had chosen the path toward integrity.