"The Enchanted Cottage" -- Part 30
The loft at last.
Pittsburgh, Pa., December 2006
Justin had heard a lot about Brian's infamous loft, but he had never been there. So standing at the threshold was a gigantic step in his mind -- he was walking into Brian's past. And also his own possible future.
But that was the critical word.
Possible.
"Well, are you coming in?" Brian was already stripping off his coat, sweater, and boots.
"Oh," said Justin. "Yeah."
"Shut the door. Someone is always barging in here if I leave it unlocked," Brian warned.
"We wouldn't want th... that," said Justin. The door was heavy, but he listened for the click that meant it was truly closed.
"Here's the lock," said Brian, coming over and pressing some buttons. "Don't forget to set it when you go out. I wouldn't want to get robbed -- again."
"Again?" Justin tilted his head.
"It's not a great neighborhood. It's getting better, but..." Brian shrugged. "I lost a fucking Philippe Starck juicer a couple of years ago. And some Prada shoes. And suits."
Justin frowned. "Thieves stole your juicer?"
"I think it was gay-on-gay crime. The cops got some of the stuff back, but they never found that fucking juicer," said Brian. "Here's the code for the door." He punched in 4101971. "Don't forget it."
"That's your b... birthday," said Justin.
"No shit. How do you think I remember it?"
"So, I'm going to need to know that code b... because...?"
Brian rolled his eyes. "You ask too many fucking questions. Now I do need a drink." He went to the cart and poured himself a shot of Absolut. "And one for you." He handed Justin the other glass. "To your fucking success as the new Andy Warhol. Cheers!" Brian clicked against Justin's glass and downed the booze.
Justin swallowed his drink slowly. It was strong. But a feeling of warmth surged through him -- and he didn't think it was only the vodka.
"When did you get into t... town?"
"Yesterday," said Brian, walking up into the bedroom. "I still haven't completely unpacked. I wasn't sure if I was going to stay."
"This looks like all of your stuff from the c... cottage," said Justin, noting Brian's laptop on the desk -- and the print he'd made of Brian and Gus lying next to it.
"Yeah, well, I thought I better bring it all. I wasn't sure..."
"Sure of what, Brian?" Justin walked up into the bedroom. The platform bed was even larger than he'd imagined. And the light over the bed looked like a lightning bolt crashing through the brick wall. It reminded Justin of the lair of a superhero -- dark, sexy, a little scary, but exciting.
It was odd how at home he felt. Like he'd been here a thousand time before. Made love in this bed many times. Laughed in it. Cried in it.
He watched Brian take off his trousers and toss them on top of the dresser. Then he stood in front of Justin, one hip thrust forward.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well, what?" Justin blinked.
"Do I have to draw you picture?" said Brian. "I thought that was your department." He moved to Justin and began to pull off his clothes.
"Brian -- wait! Before we f... fuck, can I ask you something?"
"The next time I see your mother, I'm going to ask her if the therapists teaching you to talk again was really such a good idea," Brian commented. "Because you never fucking shut up!"
Justin laughed. "I can't help it!"
"Then use your mouth for something more constructive." Brian kissed him, probing his mouth with his tongue. "Um... That's more like it!"
"W... wait!" Justin said again.
Brian rubbed his forehead. "What the fuck now?"
"What's going to happen?" Justin asked. "T... tell me."
"Okay," Brian nodded. "Daddy Bear is going to throw Baby Bear on the bed and rim him until he screams. Then Daddy Bear is going to fill every orifice Baby Bear has with his Big Bad Cock. Then Baby Bear is going to do the same thing to Daddy Bear. Okay? Okay!"
Justin grimaced. "Please don't use the Bears again, Br... Brian. It's creepy."
"Sorry, Sunshine, I thought you liked the Bears. Now... get on the bed and spread your ass!"
"Wait," said Justin, taking Brian's hand. "I n... need to know what's going to happen after we fuck. Is this only for tonight? Or is it f... forever?"
"Nothing's forever, kid," said Brian, seriously. "I learned that the hard way."
"Then why did you c... come back? Tell me the t... truth," Justin insisted.
Brian touched his own face -- one of the scars that jagged down the right side from the middle of his cheek to his jawline -- as he considered what to say. "I wasn't going to. I came back with the idea that I'd tie up a few loose ends and then... then I'd go. Not to any place special, but somewhere. Where they didn't know me. Where there'd be no expectations. Where no one would notice that I was there one day -- and not there the next."
Justin shuddered. "Then why did you c... come to the GLC?"
"I don't know," Brian admitted. "I guess I wanted to see what the show was like. But then I saw Michael. He came out and saw me and we had words. I was pissed at him -- but I also realized I still cared about him. And not only him, but other people, too. Lindz and Gus. And even Deb. And..."
"And?" Justin let the word hang.
"And you," said Brian. "I knew I had to wait. I wanted to see you one last time. Then you came out on the steps and that greasy-haired fucker was waiting for you. I still can't believe those sleazy lines he was dishing out! See, that's why you need me, Sunshine. That's exactly the kind of bullshit you would fall for! You're an idealist. A romantic. You would believe some liar when he filled your little blond head with all that garbage! And then you'd get your poor heart broken. I can't let that happen."
"And you would n... never break my heart?" Justin said gently.
"Only for your own good," Brian returned. "I'm sorry about that last night at the cottage. I bungled it, as usual, but you needed to leave. It was time."
"My heart's not b... broken," said Justin. "It's a little cracked, but when I saw you tonight I could feel it starting to mend. And I still feel it m... mending -- like magic!" He kissed Brian softly. "Can you feel it, too?"
"See?" Brian huffed. "That's why you believed in the Enchanted fucking Cottage! Believed that there really was a magical place that can make all your dreams come truth! And the more you believed in it, the more I started to believe it, too. The more I wanted to believe it, even though I knew it was impossible."
"It's not impossible," said Justin. "The mistake we m... made was thinking that it could change us on the outside. That's not where the change happened. It was on the inside. It didn't make us what we were before -- n... nothing can do that. But I don't need to be what I was b... before. I'd rather be what I am now -- in love with you! Here with you! I didn't have that before I was bashed, but I have it now. And you have me, Br... Brian -- if you want me."
"Yes," whispered Brian. "I want you. You don't see the fucking scars. The damage. You don't see a man who will never be perfect."
"No one's p... perfect." Justin leaned against his lover, his eyes closed. "It's what's imperfect that makes for love. You know what artists used to d... do in ancient times? They would put a flaw in their piece, on purpose. An intentional m... mistake, otherwise the gods would get jealous of their talent and destroy it. It's the flaws that make a work real. The flaws that p... prove your love isn't just on the surface, but goes deeper, where it matters. To the heart. To the soul. And that kind of love will last, no m... matter what happens."
"You're quite the little philosopher, aren't you?" Brian pulled Justin closer until their hearts were only inches apart.
"I l... learned from the Master," said Justin.
"You know what?" Brian replied, stroking Justin's hair. "So did I."
"There's still a l... lot to learn," said Justin. "But we have all the t... time in the world."
Brian smiled. At long last, he finally felt at peace. "And then some."
***
Pittsburgh, Pa., December 2006
Justin had heard a lot about Brian's infamous loft, but he had never been there. So standing at the threshold was a gigantic step in his mind -- he was walking into Brian's past. And also his own possible future.
But that was the critical word.
Possible.
"Well, are you coming in?" Brian was already stripping off his coat, sweater, and boots.
"Oh," said Justin. "Yeah."
"Shut the door. Someone is always barging in here if I leave it unlocked," Brian warned.
"We wouldn't want th... that," said Justin. The door was heavy, but he listened for the click that meant it was truly closed.
"Here's the lock," said Brian, coming over and pressing some buttons. "Don't forget to set it when you go out. I wouldn't want to get robbed -- again."
"Again?" Justin tilted his head.
"It's not a great neighborhood. It's getting better, but..." Brian shrugged. "I lost a fucking Philippe Starck juicer a couple of years ago. And some Prada shoes. And suits."
Justin frowned. "Thieves stole your juicer?"
"I think it was gay-on-gay crime. The cops got some of the stuff back, but they never found that fucking juicer," said Brian. "Here's the code for the door." He punched in 4101971. "Don't forget it."
"That's your b... birthday," said Justin.
"No shit. How do you think I remember it?"
"So, I'm going to need to know that code b... because...?"
Brian rolled his eyes. "You ask too many fucking questions. Now I do need a drink." He went to the cart and poured himself a shot of Absolut. "And one for you." He handed Justin the other glass. "To your fucking success as the new Andy Warhol. Cheers!" Brian clicked against Justin's glass and downed the booze.
Justin swallowed his drink slowly. It was strong. But a feeling of warmth surged through him -- and he didn't think it was only the vodka.
"When did you get into t... town?"
"Yesterday," said Brian, walking up into the bedroom. "I still haven't completely unpacked. I wasn't sure if I was going to stay."
"This looks like all of your stuff from the c... cottage," said Justin, noting Brian's laptop on the desk -- and the print he'd made of Brian and Gus lying next to it.
"Yeah, well, I thought I better bring it all. I wasn't sure..."
"Sure of what, Brian?" Justin walked up into the bedroom. The platform bed was even larger than he'd imagined. And the light over the bed looked like a lightning bolt crashing through the brick wall. It reminded Justin of the lair of a superhero -- dark, sexy, a little scary, but exciting.
It was odd how at home he felt. Like he'd been here a thousand time before. Made love in this bed many times. Laughed in it. Cried in it.
He watched Brian take off his trousers and toss them on top of the dresser. Then he stood in front of Justin, one hip thrust forward.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well, what?" Justin blinked.
"Do I have to draw you picture?" said Brian. "I thought that was your department." He moved to Justin and began to pull off his clothes.
"Brian -- wait! Before we f... fuck, can I ask you something?"
"The next time I see your mother, I'm going to ask her if the therapists teaching you to talk again was really such a good idea," Brian commented. "Because you never fucking shut up!"
Justin laughed. "I can't help it!"
"Then use your mouth for something more constructive." Brian kissed him, probing his mouth with his tongue. "Um... That's more like it!"
"W... wait!" Justin said again.
Brian rubbed his forehead. "What the fuck now?"
"What's going to happen?" Justin asked. "T... tell me."
"Okay," Brian nodded. "Daddy Bear is going to throw Baby Bear on the bed and rim him until he screams. Then Daddy Bear is going to fill every orifice Baby Bear has with his Big Bad Cock. Then Baby Bear is going to do the same thing to Daddy Bear. Okay? Okay!"
Justin grimaced. "Please don't use the Bears again, Br... Brian. It's creepy."
"Sorry, Sunshine, I thought you liked the Bears. Now... get on the bed and spread your ass!"
"Wait," said Justin, taking Brian's hand. "I n... need to know what's going to happen after we fuck. Is this only for tonight? Or is it f... forever?"
"Nothing's forever, kid," said Brian, seriously. "I learned that the hard way."
"Then why did you c... come back? Tell me the t... truth," Justin insisted.
Brian touched his own face -- one of the scars that jagged down the right side from the middle of his cheek to his jawline -- as he considered what to say. "I wasn't going to. I came back with the idea that I'd tie up a few loose ends and then... then I'd go. Not to any place special, but somewhere. Where they didn't know me. Where there'd be no expectations. Where no one would notice that I was there one day -- and not there the next."
Justin shuddered. "Then why did you c... come to the GLC?"
"I don't know," Brian admitted. "I guess I wanted to see what the show was like. But then I saw Michael. He came out and saw me and we had words. I was pissed at him -- but I also realized I still cared about him. And not only him, but other people, too. Lindz and Gus. And even Deb. And..."
"And?" Justin let the word hang.
"And you," said Brian. "I knew I had to wait. I wanted to see you one last time. Then you came out on the steps and that greasy-haired fucker was waiting for you. I still can't believe those sleazy lines he was dishing out! See, that's why you need me, Sunshine. That's exactly the kind of bullshit you would fall for! You're an idealist. A romantic. You would believe some liar when he filled your little blond head with all that garbage! And then you'd get your poor heart broken. I can't let that happen."
"And you would n... never break my heart?" Justin said gently.
"Only for your own good," Brian returned. "I'm sorry about that last night at the cottage. I bungled it, as usual, but you needed to leave. It was time."
"My heart's not b... broken," said Justin. "It's a little cracked, but when I saw you tonight I could feel it starting to mend. And I still feel it m... mending -- like magic!" He kissed Brian softly. "Can you feel it, too?"
"See?" Brian huffed. "That's why you believed in the Enchanted fucking Cottage! Believed that there really was a magical place that can make all your dreams come truth! And the more you believed in it, the more I started to believe it, too. The more I wanted to believe it, even though I knew it was impossible."
"It's not impossible," said Justin. "The mistake we m... made was thinking that it could change us on the outside. That's not where the change happened. It was on the inside. It didn't make us what we were before -- n... nothing can do that. But I don't need to be what I was b... before. I'd rather be what I am now -- in love with you! Here with you! I didn't have that before I was bashed, but I have it now. And you have me, Br... Brian -- if you want me."
"Yes," whispered Brian. "I want you. You don't see the fucking scars. The damage. You don't see a man who will never be perfect."
"No one's p... perfect." Justin leaned against his lover, his eyes closed. "It's what's imperfect that makes for love. You know what artists used to d... do in ancient times? They would put a flaw in their piece, on purpose. An intentional m... mistake, otherwise the gods would get jealous of their talent and destroy it. It's the flaws that make a work real. The flaws that p... prove your love isn't just on the surface, but goes deeper, where it matters. To the heart. To the soul. And that kind of love will last, no m... matter what happens."
"You're quite the little philosopher, aren't you?" Brian pulled Justin closer until their hearts were only inches apart.
"I l... learned from the Master," said Justin.
"You know what?" Brian replied, stroking Justin's hair. "So did I."
"There's still a l... lot to learn," said Justin. "But we have all the t... time in the world."
Brian smiled. At long last, he finally felt at peace. "And then some."
***