Making it Through Another Summer: Chapter 15
Making it Through the Summer & Making it Through Another Summer
by Kim
Making it Through Another Summer
Chapter 15
Friday, June 11th - Continued
1:00 a.m.
Babylon
Swaying to the thumping bass that filtered its way across the dance floor, Justin seemed oblivious to his surroundings. With his mind completely numb from the ecstasy and alcohol he had consumed earlier, he danced as if he didn't have a care in the world; switching from partner to partner while Ted, Emmett, Michael, and Ben looked on in disbelief.
"Do you think we should do something?" Emmett mused from where they stood at the bar.
"Hard to say," Ted frowned as he weighed their options. "Although, he seems pretty wasted."
"Well, he's certainly not driving himself home," Ben decided for the others.
"You can say that again," Michael agreed. "I wonder where the fuck Brian is?"
"Probably in the backroom, getting his dick sucked," Ted chuckled.
"I'm not so sure. Especially since we haven't seen him once this evening," Michael noted.
"It's not like him to let Justin get trashed like this," Ben interjected, as they turned to see Jean Philippe Bonbois stroll out of the backroom and immediately focus his eyes on Justin.
"Uh-oh," Emmett worried. "It looks like the competition has arrived."
"You can say that again," Ted seconded while Michael scowled openly at Bonbois.
"All I can say is, Brian better get his fucking act together," Ben murmured as the gang watched Bonbois zero in on Justin.
***
Moments later, Justin found himself hazily focusing on the hockey player who had quickly pushed his way onto the dance floor and had discarded his trick with ease.
"Salut," Bonbois greeted, his eyes raking over the blond's wasted appearance.
"Wanna dance?" Justin invited as he almost lurched over.
"Some other time," Bonbois declined, reaching to steady the blond.
"Why not now?"
"Because you're shit-faced."
"Well if you don't want to dance with me, I'll find someone who will," Justin declared, as he staggered towards an eager trick.
"Not so fast, Sunshine," Bonbois chuckled. "I think you've had more than enough for one evening."
"Says who?"
"I do, now let's go," Jean Philippe stated, as he reached for Justin's arm.
"No."
"Playing hard to get I see," Bonbois shook his head in annoyance, before lifting Justin up off the floor and hoisting him over his shoulder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the blond demanded furiously.
"Saving you from yourself," Bonbois declared, as he carried the younger man out of the club.
2:00 a.m.
Bonbois' Loft
"Alright," Bonbois began, once he had seated Justin on his living room chaise. After leaving the club, Bonbois had driven them back to his loft. "Care to tell me what the fuck is wrong?"
"Who says there's anything wrong?" Justin watched as Jean Philippe paced the living room.
"Since seeing you get tweaked at Babylon is not an every day occurrence, in addition to the fact that Kinney appears to be nowhere in sight, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that there must be something."
"Perhaps I felt the need to indulge in some pain management."
"Mon cul." (My ass.)
"Alright, fine," Justin conceded, "there is something."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Why don't I get you some water," Bonbois offered. "You'll thank me in the morning," he threw over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen.
***
"So, now that you are more coherent, perhaps you're ready to talk?" Bonbois attempted again, as he stood in the kitchen peeling a green apple.
"He left," Justin whispered.
"Kinney?"
"Brian went to Ibiza," Justin sighed.
"And you're upset?" Bonbois came to sit beside the blond. He had a hard time believing that Justin would be so distressed over what could be described as normal behavior for Brian.
"We were supposed to go together. In fact, we were scheduled to leave a week from Monday."
"So, instead of waiting until you were originally scheduled to leave, he packed up and left by himself?" Bonbois couldn't get over the stupidity of his infernal neighbor.
"Yep," Justin confirmed grimly. "Not only did he leave without me, he also left me in charge of the business when he knows I have my final exams next week."
"Quel connard," Bonbois muttered to himself. (What a bastard.)
"How he expects me to look after the business and manage my exams is beyond me."
"So, fuck him," Bonbois offered.
"Huh?" the artist stared at his neighbor.
"You don't owe that bastard a goddamn thing," Bonbois declared. "Your only responsibility is to yourself. If he wants to get his rocks off in Ibiza, let him. However, staying here and going off on a binge of your own isn't going to accomplish anything."
"Yeah, but that still doesn't solve the problem of how I'm supposed to run the business and get through my exams," Justin protested.
"No, but as far as Kinney is concerned, he made his choice. You shouldn't have to be the one to suffer the consequences. Besides, I'm sure you can always delegate his shit out at the office," Bonbois reasoned. "The only thing you need to do is focus on your exams. Don't let Kinney ruin your education."
"I'm not about to."
"Good," Bonbois smiled. "Now, why don't I help you to your loft. I'm sure you could use a good night's sleep."
Sunday
Noon
The Loft
Justin sat at the dining room table, flipping through his notes for his art history class when he heard the telephone ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Justin, it's Lindsay.
"Oh, hi, Linds," Justin's stomach knotted in discomfort. So far he had been able to keep Brian's departure a secret from the family.
"How are you, honey?"
"Fine, just busy studying for my exams."
"I'm sure you'll do fine," Lindsay assured. "While I know this is short notice, do you think you might be able to take a break from your studies and stop by for dinner tonight?"
"Uh, Brian's not really around, and I..."
"Actually, Justin, Melanie and I thought it would be better if it was just you tonight," Lindsay indicated.
"Oh," Justin remarked in surprise, relieved that he didn't have to elaborate further about Brian's whereabouts. "Well, in that case, sure," he agreed, always eager for a home-cooked meal and the opportunity to see Gus.
"Wonderful. Why don't you stop by at six?"
"Great. See you then," Justin agreed, eager to take his mind off Brian and focus it instead on his studies.
6:45 p.m.
Melanie and Lindsay's
"Thanks for inviting me," Justin offered over dinner.
"Any time," Lindsay smiled. "Gus loves having you here; isn't that right Lambskin?" she asked, turning to her son.
"Yes," the boy agreed.
"So, Gus, are you almost finished with school for the year?"
"Uh-huh," Gus smiled happily.
"Speaking of that," Melanie began. "Gus has a big event coming up this week."
"You do?" Justin asked, turning his attention to Gus.
"My class is going to have a field day," he announced excitedly.
"Wow, that sounds like fun."
"It will be," Gus predicted. "Especially since mommies and daddies get to be there too."
"It looks like you two are in for a treat," Justin winked at Melanie and Lindsay.
"Mommy said that she would play with me, but that mamma has to be careful since she has my brother or sister in her tummy," Gus went on to explain.
"That's right."
"Mommy also said I could also ask Daddy, but I thought I would ask you instead since I know Daddy wouldn't want to get his clothes dirty in the potato sack races."
"You're probably right, Gus," Justin agreed sadly. At one time he would have found humor in the comment, but now all he felt was regret.
"So, can you come, Jus?" Gus asked eagerly.
"When is it?"
"Wednesday morning," Lindsay replied.
"I think I should be able to swing it," Justin agreed. "Besides, I can't let you lose the potato sack race," he winked at the boy, glad he could be there for him.
9:30 p.m.
The Loft
Returning to the loft after dinner, Justin found himself pacing the living room as he attempted to find a solution to the problem surrounding his final art project. Brian's sudden departure to Spain had left him without a model and in quite a lurch. As the blond found himself about to give into defeat, his train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.
***
"Uh, hey," Justin slid open the door to find Bonbois on the other side holding a large pastry box.
"Bonsoir," Jean Philippe greeted back as he followed Justin into the loft. "How's the studying?"
"Not bad," the blond shrugged while Jean Philippe noted the books spread out on the dining room table.
"I thought I'd stop by to see if you needed anything and also to give you this," he said, handing the box to Justin.
"What is this?"
"Energy food," Bonbois replied easily.
"Energy food?"
"Chocolatines, chaussons aux pommes, which you'll discover to be apple turnovers, and tarte au sucre, which is a sugar pie."
"Trying to fatten me up?" Justin couldn't help but laugh.
"Non, I like you just the way you are," Bonbois smirked. "Besides, I'm sure your studies will burn the calories in no time."
"One would hope."
"So, what's on the agenda tonight?" Jean Philippe questioned.
"I haven't decided. I've been too busy trying to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do about my final project."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Brian's departure has left me without a model."
"What type of project is it?" Bonbois asked.
"A nude study, and unfortunately it's probably too late to arrange for another model," Justin sighed.
"It's never too late for anything," Bonbois argued as he suddenly reached for his wife-beater and began pulling it over his shoulders.
"U-uh, what are you doing?" Justin stared at his neighbor.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bonbois laughed while he began shedding his jeans.
"Oh my God," the blond found himself whispering in pure mortification as his eyes took in his neighbor's magnificent form.
"I take it I'll do?" Jean Philippe questioned casually.
"Y-you'll more than d-do," Justin found himself responding as he attempted in vain to avoid gazing at Bonbois' enormous cock.
"Bien," Bonbois nodded with a pleased expression. "Now I would suggest we get to work."
"R-right," Justin took a deep breath, before gathering his sketchbook and charcoals off the dining room table and bracing himself for the situation that lay ahead.
Tuesday, June 15th
11:15 a.m.
Kinnetik
"Hi, Cynthia," Justin greeted Brian's assistant as he entered Kinnetik that morning.
"Hello, Justin. How did your exam go this morning?" Cynthia inquired.
"It wasn't too bad."
"Good to hear."
"You look tired, sweetie," August joined the conversation. Both he and Cynthia were worried about the blond.
"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Justin admitted. "Unfortunately, I have a conference call with Leland Communications this afternoon."
"Well, just be sure to tell us if you need anything," August instructed.
"I will," the blond assured, before turning to head toward his office.
***
An hour later, Justin was nearing the end of his call when he looked up to see Jean Philippe enter with take-out bags from a nearby bistro. Masking a look of surprise, the blond observed his neighbor removing large portions of food and setting up two places for them on his coffee table.
"Bonjour," Bonbois greeted as soon as Justin finished his call.
"What's this?" the artist motioned to the food.
"Lunch. I thought you might like a nutritious feast to celebrate the conclusion of your first exam."
"And how could I pass up such an invitation?" the blond joked, as he stood up from his desk to join the celebration.
***
"Is something wrong with your hand?" Jean Philippe inquired. The fact that Justin seemed to be having difficulty holding his fork had not gone unnoticed.
"It's nothing," Justin brushed Bonbois' concerns aside.
"Somehow I find myself having trouble believing you."
"Look, it happens from time to time. It's really no big deal."
"Then give me your hand," Bonbois instructed.
"Why?"
"So that I can see that it's no big deal," Bonbois stated.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Justin hesitated in attempt to hide the cramping he was currently experiencing.
"I see," Jean Philippe murmured. "What's on your schedule this afternoon?"
"I was going to take care of a few things here before heading home to study."
"Can the things here wait?"
"I suppose," Justin shrugged.
"Good. I think it's time you met my friend Pierre," Bonbois decided with firm resolve.
2:00 p.m.
Pittsburgh Penguins Training Complex
"Where are we?" Justin asked as he followed Bonbois into the Penguins' training complex.
"My office," Bonbois casually drawled.
"I take it this Pierre is here?"
"Good guess," Bonbois smirked as he led Justin into a workout room that boasted state of the art equipment.
***
"Pierre, this is Justin. Justin, Pierre," Bonbois introduced a middle-aged Frenchman moments later. "Pierre, is my physical therapist," he turned to Justin. "He's also the best physical therapist in the league."
"You must be lucky to have him," Justin remarked.
"Oui," Bonbois agreed. "Now, I'm going to leave you in Pierre's capable hands so that he can take a look at your hand. In the meantime, I'll be taking a spin out on the ice."
"But, I don't need..."
"Yes, you do, Justin, and that's why you're going to let Pierre take care of the pain," Bonbois instructed. "I can assure you that he'll have you feeling better in no time," he promised.
9:15 p.m.
The Loft
Several hours later Justin sat in front of the television enjoying a slice of pizza. He'd decided to lay off the studying for an hour and take in the latest episode of The Amazing Race. While Brian found the show utterly obnoxious, Justin enjoyed watching the teams race across the world to exotic locations.
Glancing down at his hand, the blond felt grateful to Jean Philippe for having the good sense to take him to see Pierre. Bonbois' therapist had been an utter godsend when it came to easing the pain in his hand. Justin was also relieved by the fact that his friend hadn't pried when it came to the reason for his pain. Even after three years, the artist still experienced cramping from overuse. Fortunately, he'd been able to come to terms with the fact that his hand would never be perfect, and tried to accept the pain as it came.
Thinking back to Bonbois, Justin found himself shaking his head in awe. The man was an absolute steam-roller. If his neighbor hadn't intervened, Justin wasn't sure how he would have made it through the past few days. Fortunately, Jean Philippe had seen to it that he focused his energy on school instead of Brian.
Brian... The thought of his partner made Justin's stomach twist in pain. He didn't want to think about his betrayal or the fact that he'd abandoned him to indulge in the ultimate pain management binge. Eager to block his lover from his mind, Justin was relieved to hear a knock at the door.
***
"Shouldn't you be at Babylon or entertaining some trick in your loft?" Justin joked as he opened his door to Bonbois.
"It's still early," Bonbois drawled.
"True."
"How's the hand?"
"Better. I can't thank you enough."
"Don't sweat it," Bonbois dismissed as he wandered into the living room. "Shouldn't you be studying?" he motioned to the television.
"I'm taking a break," Justin rolled his eyes at his neighbor's attempt at micro-management.
"That's some television."
"Don't get me started." The blond was still bitter over his partner's extravagant purchase.
"What are you watching?"
"The Amazing Race. They're in Marseille right now," the artist indicated as he took his seat back in front of the television. "Have you ever been there?"
"Oui. Luc and I went back a few years ago," Bonbois replied, finding himself taking a seat next to Justin. Soon he was sharing the pizza and pointing out the various landmarks in Marseille.
Wednesday
2:00 p.m.
Justin entered his office in the best mood he had been in since Brian's departure. He had found himself enjoying Gus' field day immensely and had even taken first place among all of the fathers in the sack race. Gus seemed genuinely happy, and had been eager to show him off to all of his friends.
"Thank God, you're here," Cynthia ran up to Justin frantically.
"What's up?" the blond had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Brian's assistant had to say.
"Leo Brown called this morning. I'm afraid there's a problem with the campaign, and I can't get a hold of Brian. Do you have any idea where he might be staying?"
"No, I haven't talked to him since he left."
"Damn. I knew this was going to happen," Cynthia gave a resigned sigh. "I don't know how much longer we can keep Brown hanging."
"I'll call him," Justin offered. "I'm sure we can resolve the situation." The artist hoped for his sake, this would be the case. If not, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.
5:00 p.m.
Bonbois' Loft
"How was field day?" Bonbois asked as Justin continued the nude study of him a few hours later.
"Fun. I kicked ass in the sack race," the blond boasted.
"I'm sure you made mon petit proud."
"Now if only I could kick ass when it came to Leo Brown," Justin mused.
"Isn't he the owner of Brown Athletics?"
"The one and only. He's also one of Brian's clients," Justin added.
"I'm sensing a bit of a problem."
"That's putting it mildly. Before Brian left for Ibiza he had only recently wrapped up his work on Brown's latest campaign. While Brown seemed satisfied at the time, one of his focus groups has since changed its mind, and now they are in a complete tailspin. Naturally, Brian is nowhere to be found."
"Naturally," Bonbois rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, on top of everything else, it looks like I'm going to have to come up with an entirely new campaign unless Brian gets his ass home soon," Justin murmured, as his eyes rested on Bonbois' trophy case. "Is that an Olympic gold medal?" he questioned off handedly, pointing to one of the items on display.
"Yes, it is."
"I didn't realize you had played in the games before," Justin commented.
"I played for Team Canada in the Salt Lake games. It was one of the best experiences of my life to date."
"I can imagine. Winning a gold medal has got to be one of the greatest achievements an athlete can... Wait a minute!" the artist suddenly exclaimed.
"What?" Bonbois stared at Justin.
"That's it. I can focus Brown's campaign around the summer games in Athens."
"I think you might be on to something," Jean Philippe observed, impressed with Justin's idea.
"Do you mind if we cut our session short?"
"Not at all. I can see that the genius is already hard at work."
"I don't know about the genius bit, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."
"De rien, Sunshine, de rien," Bonbois murmured as he watched his friend hurry out of the loft.
Friday, June 18th
11:30 a.m.
PIFA
As Justin exited his professor's office that morning, he breathed a sigh of relief. Exams were over, and his project was finally completed. Amazingly enough, Bonbois had been an exemplary model. While it had been a challenge for Justin to avoid lusting after his neighbor's amazing body, he had managed to capture Bonbois' form with ease. For the first time in months the blond felt inspired. Already, his mind was spinning with ideas. If it weren't for having to worry about the Brown campaign, Justin would be spending some time in his studio.
"Bonjour." Justin looked toward the building's entrance to find Jean Philippe standing there waiting for him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I thought you might be in the mood to celebrate," Bonbois indicated. "I also thought that after all the work we did on your project yesterday, another visit to Pierre might be in order."
"You're probably right," Justin agreed as he looked down at his hand. While it wasn't shaking, he had been experiencing intermittent pain throughout the morning.
"I'm always right," Bonbois offered arrogantly, causing Justin to smile.
12:30 p.m.
Presto
"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done this week," Justin remarked over lunch an hour later.
"I'm sure I'll think of a way for you to repay me," Bonbois commented wickedly.
"Just remember, I don't kiss," Justin reminded.
"We'll see about that."
"So, when does practice for the new season begin?" Justin asked, attempting to change the subject.
"Not until mid-September. I'm going to be playing for Team Canada in the World Cup of Hockey at the end of August."
"Get to travel anywhere exciting?"
"Our first match is in Montreal against the United States. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited to be playing at home. From there we'll be moving on to Toronto."
***
"Whatever happened with the campaign for Brown Athletics?" Bonbois inquired while Justin was busy devouring a large brownie for dessert.
"I'm flying out to Chicago on Sunday night to meet with Brown and pitch a new campaign that will have a tie into the summer Olympics."
"Still no word from Kinney?"
"Nope."
"Well, I wouldn't waste my time worrying about the asshole," Bonbois advised. "As for Brown, I'm sure he'll be impressed with your proposal," he assured, as Justin prayed his neighbor was right.
2:30 p.m.
Smithfield Street
"Where are we off to now?" Justin inquired as he sat next to Bonbois in his Maserati after having met with Pierre again for a physical therapy session.
"I thought we could run a few errands."
"Errands?" Justin raised a surprised eyebrow.
"One would assume that you would like to impress the shit out of Brown on Monday."
"Of course."
"Well, with that in mind, I think it's time we did something about your hair," Bonbois elaborated.
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"Aside from the fact it could use a little shaping, no."
"I've been trying to grow it out the past two months," Justin commented. "When I met you, I had recently cropped the majority of my hair off."
"Any particular reason why?"
"Maybe I was sick of people viewing me as a kid."
"That's reason enough," Bonbois nodded as he pulled into a parking space across from Moda.
"Here," Justin said, taking a picture out of his wallet and handing it to Bonbois. "Cody at the diner gave me this. He thought I would look good with this style."
"Cody has good taste," Bonbois observed. "Perhaps you should take his recommendation."
"Perhaps I should," Justin agreed with confidence.
***
"I should have known Claude was your hairdresser also," Justin laughed as he departed the salon with Jean Philippe forty-five minutes later.
"I take it he's Kinney's stylist as well?"
"You got it," the blond confirmed.
"I never said Kinney didn't have discriminating taste," Bonbois grinned seductively at Justin. "Now, it's time for our next stop."
"And that is?"
"To visit my tailor, Armand," Bonbois responded. "If you're going to impress Brown, you're going to need a suit that's as impressive as your hair."
"I see," Justin rolled his eyes. "Do I even dare want to know how much this is going to cost me?"
"I'm sure I can persuade Armand to cut you a deal. Although, I'll expect something in return."
"If you're looking for another kiss, don't count on it," Justin warned.
"Who said anything about kissing?" Bonbois countered, causing Justin to blush in response. When it came to his neighbor, things were definitely heating up.
Sunday
11:30 a.m.
The Loft
Justin was in the midst of packing for his trip to Chicago when he heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was Jean Philippe, he hurried to answer it only to be surprised to find Lindsay and Gus standing on the other side.
"Hi guys," Justin smiled at both mother and son. "Come on in."
"It looks like you're packing," Lindsay observed.
"Uh, yeah," Justin looked away, knowing Lindsay must think he was packing for Ibiza. "I'm sorry this place is such a mess, I've had a pretty chaotic week with exams and everything..."
"It looks like you could use a break. Why don't we sit down," Lindsay suggested.
"Where are my manners?" Justin frowned as he followed his guests into the living room. "Would you like something to drink?"
"I'm fine. What about you Lambskin, would you like anything?"
"No thank you. Can Justin open his present now, Mommie?"
"Present?" Justin turned to look at Lindsay in surprise.
"It's Father's Day," Gus announced happily.
"Oh shit, I totally forgot. Sorry, Gus," Justin sheepishly apologized for his language.
"Anyway, when I asked Gus what he wanted to do for Father's Day he insisted on getting you a gift," Lindsay explained.
"You didn't have to," the blond protested.
"We wanted to," Lindsay smiled. "Would you like to give Justin his present now?" Lindsay turned to her son.
"Yes!" Gus exclaimed as he reached for the box his mother had brought with her. "Here you go, Jus," he said, handing Justin the gift.
"Thanks, Gus," Justin grinned, as he unwrapped the present. "Oh my gosh," he broke out into a wide smile as he opened the box to discover a scrapbook inside.
"I helped Gus make it for you," Lindsay said as Justin began flipping through the pages. "We thought you might like it."
"Like it? It's amazing," Justin smiled. "Thank you, Gus," he said, hugging the child in gratitude.
"We also made a card for Brian," Lindsay indicated. "I take it he's not around?"
"No, he's not," the artist confirmed.
"You must be excited to be leaving on your trip tomorrow," Lindsay said as she noticed the tension in Justin's features.
"I'm not going to Spain," Justin revealed in a quiet voice.
"You're not?"
"No. The trip is off. I'm going to Chicago instead; on business."
"But you two had planned on it for so..." Suddenly Lindsay picked up on the absence of Brian's personal belongings resting in the loft in addition to the fact that the man would never stand for the current state of untidiness in his home. "When you said Brian wasn't here earlier, you just didn't mean that he wasn't here this moment did you?"
"No, I didn't. Brian's in Ibiza, Lindsay," Justin confessed tersely. "He left a week ago without me and I haven't heard from him since."
"Oh my God. That son of a bitch," Lindsay shook her head in disgust.
"Look, there's nothing any of us can do, Linds. All we can do is wait until he comes home."
"And what then?"
"I don't know," Justin admitted. "I honestly don't know." When it came to his future with Brian, the blond was no longer certain he even had a future with his partner.
***
A few hours later, Justin had concluded his packing and found himself with some time to kill. Standing at the kitchen counter, he couldn't help but glance down at the Father's Day gift Gus had given him. While Justin treasured the gift, he noticed that he was also filled with a sense of sadness. As much as he knew he had done the right thing when it came to Gus, he also knew that it should be Brian enjoying these special moments with his son as opposed to himself.
Thinking of his relationship with his own father, Justin realized that while he had once mourned the loss of his father, the fact that his father still hated him seemed to matter less and less. He knew now that no matter what he did, no matter how much of a success he became, his father's hatred of his homosexuality would always stand in the way. In a way it was a shame that Craig couldn't be more like Royce who had never judged him based on the fact that he was gay; in fact he had been nothing but supportive. The more Justin thought about his mother's boyfriend, the more he realized that he should give the man a chance. With that in mind, he decided to pay a visit to the attorney on his way to the airport. It was time he made more of an effort when it came to their relationship.
Friday, June 25th
8:30 p.m.
The Loft
Five days later, Justin entered the loft exhausted. After successfully pitching Leo Brown his idea for Brown Athletics' latest line, he had spent the remainder of the week traveling back and forth between the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs and Chicago in attempt to put together the new campaign in record time. Fortunately, Justin had Brendan and Nathan with him, and as always they had pulled together to create a brilliant set of ads. Justin intended to finalize the campaign over the weekend and fly back to Chicago on Monday to present it to Brown. It also just so happened that the Clio Awards were the coming Wednesday, which meant the blond would be spending the majority of his week in the Windy City.
As he took a quick glance around the loft, Justin immediately picked up on the fact that Brian hadn't returned home. It appeared that his partner's pain management binge was now headed for a fourteen-day record. If and when he did come home, Justin could only imagine his reaction to the changes in the Brown campaign. As far as the blond was concerned, once Brian had boarded his flight for Spain, he had rescinded the right to complain.
11:00 p.m.
The Loft
Lying on the floor pillows in the living room, Justin took another hit off the joint he was sharing with Bonbois. After his neighbor had stopped by with his mail, the two had decided to celebrate Justin's recent success with Brown by ordering a pizza and indulging in Bonbois' premium stash of cannabis.
"Kinney's going to hit the roof when he finds out that his campaign is no more," Bonbois laughed, as Justin rolled closer beside him.
"Tough shit. The asshole deserves it," Justin declared in response.
"You can say that again."
"I doubt he'll care too much, though. Not after two weeks straight of all the fucking and sucking he could ever imagine."
"Oui," Bonbois agreed. "When he does return, you should be careful," he advised.
"Brian's safe, he's always safe," Justin began to protest.
"Even the safest aren't immune to everything," Bonbois argued. "I've been to Ibiza, and can vouch firsthand that the island is crawling with some distasteful side effects. I got a terrible case of crabs there two summers ago and can assure you that I had every intention of being safe. My career is way too important to ever want to jeopardize."
"Safe or not, he deserves whatever he gets," Justin stated as he stood up. "Want another beer?" he offered.
"Sure."
***
"So, what is someone like you doing with an asshole like Kinney?" Bonbois inquired as they were once again lying on the floor after indulging in a few more drinks and another joint.
"I'm not sure I know the answer to that question anymore," Justin admitted. "I guess there was a time when he meant the world to me. Now I'm not so sure."
"Well, I say 'fuck him'". You're a hot little piece, who needs a prick like him when you could have anyone you wanted."
"I don't know about anyone..."
"Trust me, the second you leave Kinney you'll have a line of men waiting at your doorstep."
"What about you?" Justin found himself asking.
"What about me?"
"Would you fuck me?"
"Do you even need to ask," Bonbois rolled his eyes. "Didn't Kinney inform you of my offer?"
"What offer?" Justin stared at Jean Philippe in shock.
"I told him that I wanted you for a weekend and that I would give him two of Pittsburgh's top hustlers in exchange."
"I swear, if I wasn't both drunk and high at the moment, I would throw your ass out."
"But you won't, because deep down you like me. I'd almost venture a guess that deep down you secretly want me to fuck you."
"In your dreams," Justin rolled his eyes. "You know I cheated on him once before," the blond suddenly turned serious.
"Excuse my lack of comprehension, but how does one cheat on a man like Kinney?"
"We had rules. One of them was that we couldn't fuck the same guy more than once."
"I take it you broke it?"
"I did a little more than that. I wound up leaving him for another man."
"And the other man?"
"It was a mistake. Needless to say, it didn't last very long," Justin cringed at the memory.
"Is there a moral to this story?" Bonbois questioned.
"I suppose you could say it's about not making the same mistake twice," Justin confessed. "Besides, as much as I would like to fuck you, we both know I'd be nothing more than a trick."
"You're right. I don't do relationships. However, if you left Kinney, would it really matter if it was just a fuck or not?"
"No, but who's to say what's going to happen with Brian. All I know is that at this very moment I'm pissed as hell at him. I'm pissed that he broke his promise. I'm pissed that he left me to cope with the demands of the office when he knew I had my finals approaching. I'm pissed that he let me down on my final project, and I'm pissed that I had to save his ass with Brown."
"So, what are you planning to do about it?"
"At the moment, nothing."
"Somehow that doesn't seem fair," Bonbois remarked. "If you're as pissed at Kinney as you say you are, maybe you should do something about it. Perhaps you could make some type of statement so that when he does come home from this binge of his, he realizes the stupidity of his ways."
"If you think I'm going to let you fuck..."
"As much as I'd like to, I don't do sloppy seconds. When it comes to Kinney, I think we can devise other methods that will hit him where it hurts."
"Such as?" Justin inquired.
"The Marie-Claire approach," Bonbois grinned deviously. "Luc's wife is a hell-cat when she is in a temper. Hell, she ran over his new set of golf clubs when she found out that he'd lied about going to Monte Carlo with me last fall."
"What are you suggesting? I key his car?" Justin laughed in disbelief.
"I think we can come up with something better than that."
"I suppose I could always stain his sacred Moda sofa, or then again, I could..."
"What?" Jean Philippe noticed Justin's eyes widen in excitement.
"Come with me," Justin stood up and grabbed Bonbois by the arm. "I've got just the thing," he announced as he led Jean Philippe into the bedroom, intent on proving once and for all that he had enough when it came to his partner's pain management binges.
by Kim
Making it Through Another Summer
Chapter 15
Friday, June 11th - Continued
1:00 a.m.
Babylon
Swaying to the thumping bass that filtered its way across the dance floor, Justin seemed oblivious to his surroundings. With his mind completely numb from the ecstasy and alcohol he had consumed earlier, he danced as if he didn't have a care in the world; switching from partner to partner while Ted, Emmett, Michael, and Ben looked on in disbelief.
"Do you think we should do something?" Emmett mused from where they stood at the bar.
"Hard to say," Ted frowned as he weighed their options. "Although, he seems pretty wasted."
"Well, he's certainly not driving himself home," Ben decided for the others.
"You can say that again," Michael agreed. "I wonder where the fuck Brian is?"
"Probably in the backroom, getting his dick sucked," Ted chuckled.
"I'm not so sure. Especially since we haven't seen him once this evening," Michael noted.
"It's not like him to let Justin get trashed like this," Ben interjected, as they turned to see Jean Philippe Bonbois stroll out of the backroom and immediately focus his eyes on Justin.
"Uh-oh," Emmett worried. "It looks like the competition has arrived."
"You can say that again," Ted seconded while Michael scowled openly at Bonbois.
"All I can say is, Brian better get his fucking act together," Ben murmured as the gang watched Bonbois zero in on Justin.
***
Moments later, Justin found himself hazily focusing on the hockey player who had quickly pushed his way onto the dance floor and had discarded his trick with ease.
"Salut," Bonbois greeted, his eyes raking over the blond's wasted appearance.
"Wanna dance?" Justin invited as he almost lurched over.
"Some other time," Bonbois declined, reaching to steady the blond.
"Why not now?"
"Because you're shit-faced."
"Well if you don't want to dance with me, I'll find someone who will," Justin declared, as he staggered towards an eager trick.
"Not so fast, Sunshine," Bonbois chuckled. "I think you've had more than enough for one evening."
"Says who?"
"I do, now let's go," Jean Philippe stated, as he reached for Justin's arm.
"No."
"Playing hard to get I see," Bonbois shook his head in annoyance, before lifting Justin up off the floor and hoisting him over his shoulder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the blond demanded furiously.
"Saving you from yourself," Bonbois declared, as he carried the younger man out of the club.
2:00 a.m.
Bonbois' Loft
"Alright," Bonbois began, once he had seated Justin on his living room chaise. After leaving the club, Bonbois had driven them back to his loft. "Care to tell me what the fuck is wrong?"
"Who says there's anything wrong?" Justin watched as Jean Philippe paced the living room.
"Since seeing you get tweaked at Babylon is not an every day occurrence, in addition to the fact that Kinney appears to be nowhere in sight, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that there must be something."
"Perhaps I felt the need to indulge in some pain management."
"Mon cul." (My ass.)
"Alright, fine," Justin conceded, "there is something."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Why don't I get you some water," Bonbois offered. "You'll thank me in the morning," he threw over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen.
***
"So, now that you are more coherent, perhaps you're ready to talk?" Bonbois attempted again, as he stood in the kitchen peeling a green apple.
"He left," Justin whispered.
"Kinney?"
"Brian went to Ibiza," Justin sighed.
"And you're upset?" Bonbois came to sit beside the blond. He had a hard time believing that Justin would be so distressed over what could be described as normal behavior for Brian.
"We were supposed to go together. In fact, we were scheduled to leave a week from Monday."
"So, instead of waiting until you were originally scheduled to leave, he packed up and left by himself?" Bonbois couldn't get over the stupidity of his infernal neighbor.
"Yep," Justin confirmed grimly. "Not only did he leave without me, he also left me in charge of the business when he knows I have my final exams next week."
"Quel connard," Bonbois muttered to himself. (What a bastard.)
"How he expects me to look after the business and manage my exams is beyond me."
"So, fuck him," Bonbois offered.
"Huh?" the artist stared at his neighbor.
"You don't owe that bastard a goddamn thing," Bonbois declared. "Your only responsibility is to yourself. If he wants to get his rocks off in Ibiza, let him. However, staying here and going off on a binge of your own isn't going to accomplish anything."
"Yeah, but that still doesn't solve the problem of how I'm supposed to run the business and get through my exams," Justin protested.
"No, but as far as Kinney is concerned, he made his choice. You shouldn't have to be the one to suffer the consequences. Besides, I'm sure you can always delegate his shit out at the office," Bonbois reasoned. "The only thing you need to do is focus on your exams. Don't let Kinney ruin your education."
"I'm not about to."
"Good," Bonbois smiled. "Now, why don't I help you to your loft. I'm sure you could use a good night's sleep."
Sunday
Noon
The Loft
Justin sat at the dining room table, flipping through his notes for his art history class when he heard the telephone ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Justin, it's Lindsay.
"Oh, hi, Linds," Justin's stomach knotted in discomfort. So far he had been able to keep Brian's departure a secret from the family.
"How are you, honey?"
"Fine, just busy studying for my exams."
"I'm sure you'll do fine," Lindsay assured. "While I know this is short notice, do you think you might be able to take a break from your studies and stop by for dinner tonight?"
"Uh, Brian's not really around, and I..."
"Actually, Justin, Melanie and I thought it would be better if it was just you tonight," Lindsay indicated.
"Oh," Justin remarked in surprise, relieved that he didn't have to elaborate further about Brian's whereabouts. "Well, in that case, sure," he agreed, always eager for a home-cooked meal and the opportunity to see Gus.
"Wonderful. Why don't you stop by at six?"
"Great. See you then," Justin agreed, eager to take his mind off Brian and focus it instead on his studies.
6:45 p.m.
Melanie and Lindsay's
"Thanks for inviting me," Justin offered over dinner.
"Any time," Lindsay smiled. "Gus loves having you here; isn't that right Lambskin?" she asked, turning to her son.
"Yes," the boy agreed.
"So, Gus, are you almost finished with school for the year?"
"Uh-huh," Gus smiled happily.
"Speaking of that," Melanie began. "Gus has a big event coming up this week."
"You do?" Justin asked, turning his attention to Gus.
"My class is going to have a field day," he announced excitedly.
"Wow, that sounds like fun."
"It will be," Gus predicted. "Especially since mommies and daddies get to be there too."
"It looks like you two are in for a treat," Justin winked at Melanie and Lindsay.
"Mommy said that she would play with me, but that mamma has to be careful since she has my brother or sister in her tummy," Gus went on to explain.
"That's right."
"Mommy also said I could also ask Daddy, but I thought I would ask you instead since I know Daddy wouldn't want to get his clothes dirty in the potato sack races."
"You're probably right, Gus," Justin agreed sadly. At one time he would have found humor in the comment, but now all he felt was regret.
"So, can you come, Jus?" Gus asked eagerly.
"When is it?"
"Wednesday morning," Lindsay replied.
"I think I should be able to swing it," Justin agreed. "Besides, I can't let you lose the potato sack race," he winked at the boy, glad he could be there for him.
9:30 p.m.
The Loft
Returning to the loft after dinner, Justin found himself pacing the living room as he attempted to find a solution to the problem surrounding his final art project. Brian's sudden departure to Spain had left him without a model and in quite a lurch. As the blond found himself about to give into defeat, his train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.
***
"Uh, hey," Justin slid open the door to find Bonbois on the other side holding a large pastry box.
"Bonsoir," Jean Philippe greeted back as he followed Justin into the loft. "How's the studying?"
"Not bad," the blond shrugged while Jean Philippe noted the books spread out on the dining room table.
"I thought I'd stop by to see if you needed anything and also to give you this," he said, handing the box to Justin.
"What is this?"
"Energy food," Bonbois replied easily.
"Energy food?"
"Chocolatines, chaussons aux pommes, which you'll discover to be apple turnovers, and tarte au sucre, which is a sugar pie."
"Trying to fatten me up?" Justin couldn't help but laugh.
"Non, I like you just the way you are," Bonbois smirked. "Besides, I'm sure your studies will burn the calories in no time."
"One would hope."
"So, what's on the agenda tonight?" Jean Philippe questioned.
"I haven't decided. I've been too busy trying to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do about my final project."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Brian's departure has left me without a model."
"What type of project is it?" Bonbois asked.
"A nude study, and unfortunately it's probably too late to arrange for another model," Justin sighed.
"It's never too late for anything," Bonbois argued as he suddenly reached for his wife-beater and began pulling it over his shoulders.
"U-uh, what are you doing?" Justin stared at his neighbor.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bonbois laughed while he began shedding his jeans.
"Oh my God," the blond found himself whispering in pure mortification as his eyes took in his neighbor's magnificent form.
"I take it I'll do?" Jean Philippe questioned casually.
"Y-you'll more than d-do," Justin found himself responding as he attempted in vain to avoid gazing at Bonbois' enormous cock.
"Bien," Bonbois nodded with a pleased expression. "Now I would suggest we get to work."
"R-right," Justin took a deep breath, before gathering his sketchbook and charcoals off the dining room table and bracing himself for the situation that lay ahead.
Tuesday, June 15th
11:15 a.m.
Kinnetik
"Hi, Cynthia," Justin greeted Brian's assistant as he entered Kinnetik that morning.
"Hello, Justin. How did your exam go this morning?" Cynthia inquired.
"It wasn't too bad."
"Good to hear."
"You look tired, sweetie," August joined the conversation. Both he and Cynthia were worried about the blond.
"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Justin admitted. "Unfortunately, I have a conference call with Leland Communications this afternoon."
"Well, just be sure to tell us if you need anything," August instructed.
"I will," the blond assured, before turning to head toward his office.
***
An hour later, Justin was nearing the end of his call when he looked up to see Jean Philippe enter with take-out bags from a nearby bistro. Masking a look of surprise, the blond observed his neighbor removing large portions of food and setting up two places for them on his coffee table.
"Bonjour," Bonbois greeted as soon as Justin finished his call.
"What's this?" the artist motioned to the food.
"Lunch. I thought you might like a nutritious feast to celebrate the conclusion of your first exam."
"And how could I pass up such an invitation?" the blond joked, as he stood up from his desk to join the celebration.
***
"Is something wrong with your hand?" Jean Philippe inquired. The fact that Justin seemed to be having difficulty holding his fork had not gone unnoticed.
"It's nothing," Justin brushed Bonbois' concerns aside.
"Somehow I find myself having trouble believing you."
"Look, it happens from time to time. It's really no big deal."
"Then give me your hand," Bonbois instructed.
"Why?"
"So that I can see that it's no big deal," Bonbois stated.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Justin hesitated in attempt to hide the cramping he was currently experiencing.
"I see," Jean Philippe murmured. "What's on your schedule this afternoon?"
"I was going to take care of a few things here before heading home to study."
"Can the things here wait?"
"I suppose," Justin shrugged.
"Good. I think it's time you met my friend Pierre," Bonbois decided with firm resolve.
2:00 p.m.
Pittsburgh Penguins Training Complex
"Where are we?" Justin asked as he followed Bonbois into the Penguins' training complex.
"My office," Bonbois casually drawled.
"I take it this Pierre is here?"
"Good guess," Bonbois smirked as he led Justin into a workout room that boasted state of the art equipment.
***
"Pierre, this is Justin. Justin, Pierre," Bonbois introduced a middle-aged Frenchman moments later. "Pierre, is my physical therapist," he turned to Justin. "He's also the best physical therapist in the league."
"You must be lucky to have him," Justin remarked.
"Oui," Bonbois agreed. "Now, I'm going to leave you in Pierre's capable hands so that he can take a look at your hand. In the meantime, I'll be taking a spin out on the ice."
"But, I don't need..."
"Yes, you do, Justin, and that's why you're going to let Pierre take care of the pain," Bonbois instructed. "I can assure you that he'll have you feeling better in no time," he promised.
9:15 p.m.
The Loft
Several hours later Justin sat in front of the television enjoying a slice of pizza. He'd decided to lay off the studying for an hour and take in the latest episode of The Amazing Race. While Brian found the show utterly obnoxious, Justin enjoyed watching the teams race across the world to exotic locations.
Glancing down at his hand, the blond felt grateful to Jean Philippe for having the good sense to take him to see Pierre. Bonbois' therapist had been an utter godsend when it came to easing the pain in his hand. Justin was also relieved by the fact that his friend hadn't pried when it came to the reason for his pain. Even after three years, the artist still experienced cramping from overuse. Fortunately, he'd been able to come to terms with the fact that his hand would never be perfect, and tried to accept the pain as it came.
Thinking back to Bonbois, Justin found himself shaking his head in awe. The man was an absolute steam-roller. If his neighbor hadn't intervened, Justin wasn't sure how he would have made it through the past few days. Fortunately, Jean Philippe had seen to it that he focused his energy on school instead of Brian.
Brian... The thought of his partner made Justin's stomach twist in pain. He didn't want to think about his betrayal or the fact that he'd abandoned him to indulge in the ultimate pain management binge. Eager to block his lover from his mind, Justin was relieved to hear a knock at the door.
***
"Shouldn't you be at Babylon or entertaining some trick in your loft?" Justin joked as he opened his door to Bonbois.
"It's still early," Bonbois drawled.
"True."
"How's the hand?"
"Better. I can't thank you enough."
"Don't sweat it," Bonbois dismissed as he wandered into the living room. "Shouldn't you be studying?" he motioned to the television.
"I'm taking a break," Justin rolled his eyes at his neighbor's attempt at micro-management.
"That's some television."
"Don't get me started." The blond was still bitter over his partner's extravagant purchase.
"What are you watching?"
"The Amazing Race. They're in Marseille right now," the artist indicated as he took his seat back in front of the television. "Have you ever been there?"
"Oui. Luc and I went back a few years ago," Bonbois replied, finding himself taking a seat next to Justin. Soon he was sharing the pizza and pointing out the various landmarks in Marseille.
Wednesday
2:00 p.m.
Justin entered his office in the best mood he had been in since Brian's departure. He had found himself enjoying Gus' field day immensely and had even taken first place among all of the fathers in the sack race. Gus seemed genuinely happy, and had been eager to show him off to all of his friends.
"Thank God, you're here," Cynthia ran up to Justin frantically.
"What's up?" the blond had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Brian's assistant had to say.
"Leo Brown called this morning. I'm afraid there's a problem with the campaign, and I can't get a hold of Brian. Do you have any idea where he might be staying?"
"No, I haven't talked to him since he left."
"Damn. I knew this was going to happen," Cynthia gave a resigned sigh. "I don't know how much longer we can keep Brown hanging."
"I'll call him," Justin offered. "I'm sure we can resolve the situation." The artist hoped for his sake, this would be the case. If not, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.
5:00 p.m.
Bonbois' Loft
"How was field day?" Bonbois asked as Justin continued the nude study of him a few hours later.
"Fun. I kicked ass in the sack race," the blond boasted.
"I'm sure you made mon petit proud."
"Now if only I could kick ass when it came to Leo Brown," Justin mused.
"Isn't he the owner of Brown Athletics?"
"The one and only. He's also one of Brian's clients," Justin added.
"I'm sensing a bit of a problem."
"That's putting it mildly. Before Brian left for Ibiza he had only recently wrapped up his work on Brown's latest campaign. While Brown seemed satisfied at the time, one of his focus groups has since changed its mind, and now they are in a complete tailspin. Naturally, Brian is nowhere to be found."
"Naturally," Bonbois rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, on top of everything else, it looks like I'm going to have to come up with an entirely new campaign unless Brian gets his ass home soon," Justin murmured, as his eyes rested on Bonbois' trophy case. "Is that an Olympic gold medal?" he questioned off handedly, pointing to one of the items on display.
"Yes, it is."
"I didn't realize you had played in the games before," Justin commented.
"I played for Team Canada in the Salt Lake games. It was one of the best experiences of my life to date."
"I can imagine. Winning a gold medal has got to be one of the greatest achievements an athlete can... Wait a minute!" the artist suddenly exclaimed.
"What?" Bonbois stared at Justin.
"That's it. I can focus Brown's campaign around the summer games in Athens."
"I think you might be on to something," Jean Philippe observed, impressed with Justin's idea.
"Do you mind if we cut our session short?"
"Not at all. I can see that the genius is already hard at work."
"I don't know about the genius bit, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."
"De rien, Sunshine, de rien," Bonbois murmured as he watched his friend hurry out of the loft.
Friday, June 18th
11:30 a.m.
PIFA
As Justin exited his professor's office that morning, he breathed a sigh of relief. Exams were over, and his project was finally completed. Amazingly enough, Bonbois had been an exemplary model. While it had been a challenge for Justin to avoid lusting after his neighbor's amazing body, he had managed to capture Bonbois' form with ease. For the first time in months the blond felt inspired. Already, his mind was spinning with ideas. If it weren't for having to worry about the Brown campaign, Justin would be spending some time in his studio.
"Bonjour." Justin looked toward the building's entrance to find Jean Philippe standing there waiting for him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I thought you might be in the mood to celebrate," Bonbois indicated. "I also thought that after all the work we did on your project yesterday, another visit to Pierre might be in order."
"You're probably right," Justin agreed as he looked down at his hand. While it wasn't shaking, he had been experiencing intermittent pain throughout the morning.
"I'm always right," Bonbois offered arrogantly, causing Justin to smile.
12:30 p.m.
Presto
"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done this week," Justin remarked over lunch an hour later.
"I'm sure I'll think of a way for you to repay me," Bonbois commented wickedly.
"Just remember, I don't kiss," Justin reminded.
"We'll see about that."
"So, when does practice for the new season begin?" Justin asked, attempting to change the subject.
"Not until mid-September. I'm going to be playing for Team Canada in the World Cup of Hockey at the end of August."
"Get to travel anywhere exciting?"
"Our first match is in Montreal against the United States. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited to be playing at home. From there we'll be moving on to Toronto."
***
"Whatever happened with the campaign for Brown Athletics?" Bonbois inquired while Justin was busy devouring a large brownie for dessert.
"I'm flying out to Chicago on Sunday night to meet with Brown and pitch a new campaign that will have a tie into the summer Olympics."
"Still no word from Kinney?"
"Nope."
"Well, I wouldn't waste my time worrying about the asshole," Bonbois advised. "As for Brown, I'm sure he'll be impressed with your proposal," he assured, as Justin prayed his neighbor was right.
2:30 p.m.
Smithfield Street
"Where are we off to now?" Justin inquired as he sat next to Bonbois in his Maserati after having met with Pierre again for a physical therapy session.
"I thought we could run a few errands."
"Errands?" Justin raised a surprised eyebrow.
"One would assume that you would like to impress the shit out of Brown on Monday."
"Of course."
"Well, with that in mind, I think it's time we did something about your hair," Bonbois elaborated.
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"Aside from the fact it could use a little shaping, no."
"I've been trying to grow it out the past two months," Justin commented. "When I met you, I had recently cropped the majority of my hair off."
"Any particular reason why?"
"Maybe I was sick of people viewing me as a kid."
"That's reason enough," Bonbois nodded as he pulled into a parking space across from Moda.
"Here," Justin said, taking a picture out of his wallet and handing it to Bonbois. "Cody at the diner gave me this. He thought I would look good with this style."
"Cody has good taste," Bonbois observed. "Perhaps you should take his recommendation."
"Perhaps I should," Justin agreed with confidence.
***
"I should have known Claude was your hairdresser also," Justin laughed as he departed the salon with Jean Philippe forty-five minutes later.
"I take it he's Kinney's stylist as well?"
"You got it," the blond confirmed.
"I never said Kinney didn't have discriminating taste," Bonbois grinned seductively at Justin. "Now, it's time for our next stop."
"And that is?"
"To visit my tailor, Armand," Bonbois responded. "If you're going to impress Brown, you're going to need a suit that's as impressive as your hair."
"I see," Justin rolled his eyes. "Do I even dare want to know how much this is going to cost me?"
"I'm sure I can persuade Armand to cut you a deal. Although, I'll expect something in return."
"If you're looking for another kiss, don't count on it," Justin warned.
"Who said anything about kissing?" Bonbois countered, causing Justin to blush in response. When it came to his neighbor, things were definitely heating up.
Sunday
11:30 a.m.
The Loft
Justin was in the midst of packing for his trip to Chicago when he heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was Jean Philippe, he hurried to answer it only to be surprised to find Lindsay and Gus standing on the other side.
"Hi guys," Justin smiled at both mother and son. "Come on in."
"It looks like you're packing," Lindsay observed.
"Uh, yeah," Justin looked away, knowing Lindsay must think he was packing for Ibiza. "I'm sorry this place is such a mess, I've had a pretty chaotic week with exams and everything..."
"It looks like you could use a break. Why don't we sit down," Lindsay suggested.
"Where are my manners?" Justin frowned as he followed his guests into the living room. "Would you like something to drink?"
"I'm fine. What about you Lambskin, would you like anything?"
"No thank you. Can Justin open his present now, Mommie?"
"Present?" Justin turned to look at Lindsay in surprise.
"It's Father's Day," Gus announced happily.
"Oh shit, I totally forgot. Sorry, Gus," Justin sheepishly apologized for his language.
"Anyway, when I asked Gus what he wanted to do for Father's Day he insisted on getting you a gift," Lindsay explained.
"You didn't have to," the blond protested.
"We wanted to," Lindsay smiled. "Would you like to give Justin his present now?" Lindsay turned to her son.
"Yes!" Gus exclaimed as he reached for the box his mother had brought with her. "Here you go, Jus," he said, handing Justin the gift.
"Thanks, Gus," Justin grinned, as he unwrapped the present. "Oh my gosh," he broke out into a wide smile as he opened the box to discover a scrapbook inside.
"I helped Gus make it for you," Lindsay said as Justin began flipping through the pages. "We thought you might like it."
"Like it? It's amazing," Justin smiled. "Thank you, Gus," he said, hugging the child in gratitude.
"We also made a card for Brian," Lindsay indicated. "I take it he's not around?"
"No, he's not," the artist confirmed.
"You must be excited to be leaving on your trip tomorrow," Lindsay said as she noticed the tension in Justin's features.
"I'm not going to Spain," Justin revealed in a quiet voice.
"You're not?"
"No. The trip is off. I'm going to Chicago instead; on business."
"But you two had planned on it for so..." Suddenly Lindsay picked up on the absence of Brian's personal belongings resting in the loft in addition to the fact that the man would never stand for the current state of untidiness in his home. "When you said Brian wasn't here earlier, you just didn't mean that he wasn't here this moment did you?"
"No, I didn't. Brian's in Ibiza, Lindsay," Justin confessed tersely. "He left a week ago without me and I haven't heard from him since."
"Oh my God. That son of a bitch," Lindsay shook her head in disgust.
"Look, there's nothing any of us can do, Linds. All we can do is wait until he comes home."
"And what then?"
"I don't know," Justin admitted. "I honestly don't know." When it came to his future with Brian, the blond was no longer certain he even had a future with his partner.
***
A few hours later, Justin had concluded his packing and found himself with some time to kill. Standing at the kitchen counter, he couldn't help but glance down at the Father's Day gift Gus had given him. While Justin treasured the gift, he noticed that he was also filled with a sense of sadness. As much as he knew he had done the right thing when it came to Gus, he also knew that it should be Brian enjoying these special moments with his son as opposed to himself.
Thinking of his relationship with his own father, Justin realized that while he had once mourned the loss of his father, the fact that his father still hated him seemed to matter less and less. He knew now that no matter what he did, no matter how much of a success he became, his father's hatred of his homosexuality would always stand in the way. In a way it was a shame that Craig couldn't be more like Royce who had never judged him based on the fact that he was gay; in fact he had been nothing but supportive. The more Justin thought about his mother's boyfriend, the more he realized that he should give the man a chance. With that in mind, he decided to pay a visit to the attorney on his way to the airport. It was time he made more of an effort when it came to their relationship.
Friday, June 25th
8:30 p.m.
The Loft
Five days later, Justin entered the loft exhausted. After successfully pitching Leo Brown his idea for Brown Athletics' latest line, he had spent the remainder of the week traveling back and forth between the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs and Chicago in attempt to put together the new campaign in record time. Fortunately, Justin had Brendan and Nathan with him, and as always they had pulled together to create a brilliant set of ads. Justin intended to finalize the campaign over the weekend and fly back to Chicago on Monday to present it to Brown. It also just so happened that the Clio Awards were the coming Wednesday, which meant the blond would be spending the majority of his week in the Windy City.
As he took a quick glance around the loft, Justin immediately picked up on the fact that Brian hadn't returned home. It appeared that his partner's pain management binge was now headed for a fourteen-day record. If and when he did come home, Justin could only imagine his reaction to the changes in the Brown campaign. As far as the blond was concerned, once Brian had boarded his flight for Spain, he had rescinded the right to complain.
11:00 p.m.
The Loft
Lying on the floor pillows in the living room, Justin took another hit off the joint he was sharing with Bonbois. After his neighbor had stopped by with his mail, the two had decided to celebrate Justin's recent success with Brown by ordering a pizza and indulging in Bonbois' premium stash of cannabis.
"Kinney's going to hit the roof when he finds out that his campaign is no more," Bonbois laughed, as Justin rolled closer beside him.
"Tough shit. The asshole deserves it," Justin declared in response.
"You can say that again."
"I doubt he'll care too much, though. Not after two weeks straight of all the fucking and sucking he could ever imagine."
"Oui," Bonbois agreed. "When he does return, you should be careful," he advised.
"Brian's safe, he's always safe," Justin began to protest.
"Even the safest aren't immune to everything," Bonbois argued. "I've been to Ibiza, and can vouch firsthand that the island is crawling with some distasteful side effects. I got a terrible case of crabs there two summers ago and can assure you that I had every intention of being safe. My career is way too important to ever want to jeopardize."
"Safe or not, he deserves whatever he gets," Justin stated as he stood up. "Want another beer?" he offered.
"Sure."
***
"So, what is someone like you doing with an asshole like Kinney?" Bonbois inquired as they were once again lying on the floor after indulging in a few more drinks and another joint.
"I'm not sure I know the answer to that question anymore," Justin admitted. "I guess there was a time when he meant the world to me. Now I'm not so sure."
"Well, I say 'fuck him'". You're a hot little piece, who needs a prick like him when you could have anyone you wanted."
"I don't know about anyone..."
"Trust me, the second you leave Kinney you'll have a line of men waiting at your doorstep."
"What about you?" Justin found himself asking.
"What about me?"
"Would you fuck me?"
"Do you even need to ask," Bonbois rolled his eyes. "Didn't Kinney inform you of my offer?"
"What offer?" Justin stared at Jean Philippe in shock.
"I told him that I wanted you for a weekend and that I would give him two of Pittsburgh's top hustlers in exchange."
"I swear, if I wasn't both drunk and high at the moment, I would throw your ass out."
"But you won't, because deep down you like me. I'd almost venture a guess that deep down you secretly want me to fuck you."
"In your dreams," Justin rolled his eyes. "You know I cheated on him once before," the blond suddenly turned serious.
"Excuse my lack of comprehension, but how does one cheat on a man like Kinney?"
"We had rules. One of them was that we couldn't fuck the same guy more than once."
"I take it you broke it?"
"I did a little more than that. I wound up leaving him for another man."
"And the other man?"
"It was a mistake. Needless to say, it didn't last very long," Justin cringed at the memory.
"Is there a moral to this story?" Bonbois questioned.
"I suppose you could say it's about not making the same mistake twice," Justin confessed. "Besides, as much as I would like to fuck you, we both know I'd be nothing more than a trick."
"You're right. I don't do relationships. However, if you left Kinney, would it really matter if it was just a fuck or not?"
"No, but who's to say what's going to happen with Brian. All I know is that at this very moment I'm pissed as hell at him. I'm pissed that he broke his promise. I'm pissed that he left me to cope with the demands of the office when he knew I had my finals approaching. I'm pissed that he let me down on my final project, and I'm pissed that I had to save his ass with Brown."
"So, what are you planning to do about it?"
"At the moment, nothing."
"Somehow that doesn't seem fair," Bonbois remarked. "If you're as pissed at Kinney as you say you are, maybe you should do something about it. Perhaps you could make some type of statement so that when he does come home from this binge of his, he realizes the stupidity of his ways."
"If you think I'm going to let you fuck..."
"As much as I'd like to, I don't do sloppy seconds. When it comes to Kinney, I think we can devise other methods that will hit him where it hurts."
"Such as?" Justin inquired.
"The Marie-Claire approach," Bonbois grinned deviously. "Luc's wife is a hell-cat when she is in a temper. Hell, she ran over his new set of golf clubs when she found out that he'd lied about going to Monte Carlo with me last fall."
"What are you suggesting? I key his car?" Justin laughed in disbelief.
"I think we can come up with something better than that."
"I suppose I could always stain his sacred Moda sofa, or then again, I could..."
"What?" Jean Philippe noticed Justin's eyes widen in excitement.
"Come with me," Justin stood up and grabbed Bonbois by the arm. "I've got just the thing," he announced as he led Jean Philippe into the bedroom, intent on proving once and for all that he had enough when it came to his partner's pain management binges.