HAPPILY EVER AFTER (Chapter 1)
Brian Kinney: CEO of Kinnetik Advertising Agency, but now a recluse and making a living writing screenplays: romantic thrillers. But these are stories that never have happy endings ~~ Following circumstances that leave him scarred and guilt-ridden, Brian has retreated to his house and buried himself in his work ~~ Justin Taylor: Struggling artist who is commissioned to paint a portrait of Brian's son, Gus ~~ What happens when they meet? ~~ Can Justin persuade Brian he's still as beautiful and desirable as he ever was and that there is such a thing as a happy ending: that they can live happily ever after? ~~ Feedback welcome ~~ Julia ~ (Note: For the purposes of this story, Vic Grassi is alive and well and working for Brian. I always liked Vic and see no reason why in this fic he can't still be around!)
Rating: NC-17
WARNING: AU
This story is complete.
HAPPILY EVER AFTER (Chapter 1)
“Jeez ... what is wrong with that man ... doesn't he trust us or something ...” Mel, Lindz partner, had moaned, as Lindz put down the phone. “Well ... we haven't always made it easy for him ... have we ...” Lindz conceded.
“I don't know why you always defend him ... he's hardly been Father of the Year ... and we are letting Gus go down there for most of the summer break ...”
“And ... we'll be able to give Jenny Rebecca some quality time to herself with Gus at his Father's ... you didn't mind Michael spending time with her over Easter ...” reminded Lindsay.
“That was different ...” Melanie was at pains to point out. “He came up here ... besides we can trust Michael ... whereas Brian ... “
“Don't you thinks he's paid enough?”
“What ... letting Michael take the blame for something he did?“ shot back Melanie. “But then again we all know Michael's capable of lying to cover Brian's sorry ass ... but what if it had been Gus ... he could have killed him ...”
“It wouldn't have happened if he'd had Gus with him ... and besides ... that was then ...” Lindz cut her short. “This is now ... and he's really trying ... you can't deny he loves Gus ...”
“Maybe ... but it took long enough for him to remember he had a son ...” pointed out Melanie and Lindz sighed in exasperation.
It would seem her partner would never cut Brian any slack; never accept the father of their child and while it was true that during Gus' early years, Brian wasn't really that much in evidence, he'd always loved his son, even though he couldn't admit it. And, over time, he eventually realized he could be the Father he wanted to be, not the Father he feared he might be. But by then, it was too late, Mel and Lindz had relocated to the great white north and Lindz always had at the back of her mind that distancing themselves from Brian was the main reason Mel had pushed for the move. But Lindsay had always been determined that Gus would know his Father and she knew how much these visits meant to Brian: especially now.
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Two Days Later:
Brian was half way down the path before the cab had come to a halt: he'd been watching out for them the last half-hour; he could have collected them from the airport, but he didn't go out much these days.
“DAD!”
Lindsay had to prevent Gus from leaping out of the car before it stopped. He didn't wait for the door to be opened for him and had the seatbelt off and was out of the vehicle before Brian reached the sidewalk and practically threw himself into his Father's arms.
“Whoa there son ...” and Brian returned the hug and then pulled back to look at him.
“I swear you've grown another two inches since I last saw you ...” smiled Brian and he ruffled the boy's hair. Gus was now eight years old and Brian hadn't seen him since the Spring Term Break.
The cab driver had come around and opened the car door for Lindsay and then retrieved the suitcases and Gus' backpack from the trunk: Brian paid the man.
“Thanks, Lindsay ... I ...” said Brian and he stopped; unable to finish his sentence least he gave away too much and he was afraid in any case that Gus would hear. But he probably wouldn't; not over the noise of the cab as it drove away.
Brian and Lindsay kissed and she stroked his face with the back of her hand.
“I don't think I'll ever get used to this ...” she smiled up at him; Brian's beard surprisingly soft to the touch. “Well ... you better get used to it ...” stated Brian, matter of factly and then he stooped to pick up the cases that had been deposited on the sidewalk. Gus had already taken charge of his backpack and was walking up the path away from them.
“Dad ... can I go and see Buttons?”
“I think you should get unpacked first ...” called his Mother, but then she saw the boy's crestfallen look and relented.
“Okay ... go on then ... if it's alright with your Dad ...” and she looked at Brian.
“He's waiting for you ... you'll find some carrots hanging up inside ...” Brian had to yell after him and he smiled as Gus took off around the back of the house and down to the stables.
Buttons was a 6 year old Welsh cross pony; a 12 hands high gelding, chestnut in color and with a star. Brian had bought him for Gus the previous Christmas and had paid for riding lessons: a skill his son had picked up pretty quickly.
Brian took the cases inside the house and deposited them in the hallway and now away from anyone who might see, he turned to Lindsay and gave her a big hug and held on.
When he'd called her two nights before; checking that they were still coming, Lindz had managed to reassure him that she wouldn't break her promise that he could have Gus over the summer break. And now, standing in the hallway of Brian's house in West Virginia and hugging, he didn't have to say how much he needed this: she'd seen it in his eyes and could feel it in the way he held her.
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Three Years Earlier:
“Sonovabitch could have killed you ...” stated Debbie Novotny angrily and she stroked Michael's forehead. “Ma ... I keep telling you ... I was driving ... it was an accident ... I have a few abrasions ... some bruised ribs and a concussion ... nothing major ...” Michael tried to reassure her, but she just wasn't listening to reason.
“Nothing major you say ... look at you ...” and he did look a sorry sight, sitting on the edge of the bed, bruised and battered as Ben was helping him to dress and they knew what was going on in Debbie's head.
That Brian was probably drunk or high; out of his skull on something and had insisted on driving them back to the hotel and Michael sighed as he looked up at his husband. “Let's go home ...” he pleaded with him and Ben nodded and smiled weakly.
He knew Michael; he knew he was lying and so did Debbie and they all wondered how many times Brian had got behind the wheel after having been partying. But this time, it seemed he'd ridden his luck too far.
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Michael owned a comic-book store; something that had been a childhood dream and one Brian had helped make possible by getting him to auction the Captain Astro First Edition comic he'd bought Michael for his thirtieth birthday. $10,000 and bingo;a down payment on Buzzy's Comic Book Store and Michael had become the proud new owner.
Subsequently, Michael had been invited to speak on gay comic book heroes at a convention, but didn't want to go on his own. Unfortunately, his husband, Professor Ben Bruckner had to attend a residential course from college he couldn't get out of much to his annoyance: this sort of topic was right up his alley. Their foster-son, Hunter, was also at college, which meant he couldn't accompany Michael either, but secretly, Hunter had sighed in relief. He might be into comic books as much as the next young man, but attending a geeky convention wasn't his thing.
Brian knew he'd been neglecting Michael of late; he'd been tied up with work or just hadn't bothered to turn up for dinner when a far more attractive proposition came up and so, when Michael asked him to go with him, Brian groaned and had tried to refuse. But those big brown eyes pleaded with him so much that Brian had eventually relented, though he was sure he would live to regret it. How right he was.
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Michael was glad of the drive there; he had time to kill with Ben and Hunter both being away and besides, he and Brian hadn't spent any time together of late and he was hoping to catch up with his friend. He knew Brian would never say, but he didn't think his friend had had things very easy of late and he wanted him to know he'd be there for him: just like the old times.
The convention was being held in a hotel up north and Brian moaned at the cold and turned the heater in the vette on high. Michael offered to help with the driving, but for some reason Brian wouldn't let him. It would seem that he'd made up his mind he wasn't going to enjoy this weekend after all and nothing Michael could do would shake him out of it.
Things didn't go well from the start. They'd had to set out really early and the weather had been foul and made the journey even longer than planned. Then, when they checked in, they discovered the hotel had over-booked the rooms and the only one available was a double. Brian groaned, but Michael grinned as they dumped their bags on the only bed in the only room available.
“You promise to keep to your own side?” Brian asked him.
“I am a married man ... remember ...” reminded Michael, feigning shock at Brian's suggestion that he might take advantage of the situation.
“And you better remember that ...” came back Brian. “I don't want that husband of yours coming after me with a shotgun ...”
Brian was more than a little pissed. He'd hoped he might find a little action while they were up here to break the monotony and always preferred that guys came to his territory, but sharing a room with Michael might make that difficult.
They registered at the convention later that afternoon and spent the time before dinner wandering around the stalls that had already been set up and looking at the comic books and Brian found his attitude softening a little.
Batman, Superman, Captain Astro and more: all those familiar comic book heroes from his childhood, bringing back the few good memories he had of those times. Times spent in Mikey's bedroom since they were both 14, as they poured over the stories; his friend acting them out and taking them away from that little place into a fantastic wonderland. Where heroes in capes and tights would swoop down and save them from monsters and villians and how often had Brian wished that might actually happen.
More than once had Michael's bedroom been his sanctuary when Brian needed to escape his own home. An abusive, drunken Father and a cold-hearted Mother had left him bruised and feeling both unloved and unwanted; feelings compounded by a Father who repeated on a regular basis just how much he wished Brian had never been born and that he'd actually wanted him aborted. How Brian had longed for a caped crusader to come and carry him away to his lair and take care of him forever. But life was never going to be like that.
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Michael kept on talking at the dinner table and Brian found he'd consumed a couple of whiskeys and two bottles of wine all to himself, with Michael sticking to Pepsi: making the excuse of needing a clear head to give his talk in the morning. Brian wasn't really conscious of how much he was drinking, telling himself he deserved to relax and wind down a little, but was that the real reason, or was his large consumption of alcohol just because Brian was trying to block out Michael's inane conversation?
Brian looked around the dining room; things were starting to look a little fuzzy, but he saw a few guys in pairs and one or two on their own and one or two not half bad. Seems like Michael's talk on gay comic book heroes might just have brought in the odd tasty morsel, but now he was too tired after their long drive and a little too wasted to be of much use to anyone and with Michael's assistance, Brian made it back up to their room.
His friend undressed him and rolled him into bed; but not before Michael had guiltily surveyed the other man's body and ashamedly, Michael looked away before undressing down to tee and shorts and climbing in beside him; making sure he kept to his side of the bed.
Christ; he'd hoped he'd gotten over those feelings. Even at 14, Brian was beautiful. A little geeky maybe, but those hazel eyes had just swallowed him up and, as he'd gotten older, Brian grew more beautiful each day and Michael had once hoped that Brian would return the feelings he had for his friend, but Brian's feelings for Michael had never been anything more than friendship.
Michael knew Brian used him as a crutch; after all, he provided all the emotional support the other man needed, while Brian went elsewhere for sex and probably enjoyed the way his friend hung on his every word: almost worshipped Brian.
But then if Michael wanted to waste his life in the vain hope that one day Brian might have feelings for him; kidding himself the man might one day feel the same way he did, then that was hardly Brian's fault.
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Not surprisingly, Brian didn't want breakfast the next morning and made do with the coffee Michael made in their room. Michael showered first while Brian was coming to and after his second cup of strong, if disgusting coffee, Brian heaved himself up out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to take a pee. Michael was cleaning his teeth at the sink as Brian pulled off his shorts to step into the shower. Quickly, Michael turned his back.
“Oh come on Michael ... it's not like you haven't seen it before ...” said Brian as he stepped inside the stall. Trying not to blush, Michael smiled weakly and pulled his robe around him tightly and, grabbing his toilet bag, headed back out to the bedroom and closed the bathroom door behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard the shower start to run.
Michael had dressed before Brian came out of the bathroom and decided to go down to breakfast by himself. He yelled at Brian through the closed bathroom door: making the man promise he would come down and hear his talk. Brian promised he would, but Michael frowned; he knew this weekend wasn't really Brian's thing and would not be surprised if he didn't bother to turn up and couldn't help smiling when he saw Brian walk into the conference room just before he was about to get up and make his speech. Brian looked great; it was amazing what a couple of cups of coffee and a shower could do.
Brian knew he hadn't really behaved well the night before, getting drunk at dinner and tuning out to what Michael was saying. But in fact it was hard to admit that he was actually a little jealous of him and what he had. Even more so since Gus had moved away.
Brian had even tested the waters himself a little just lately, but he had a reputation that it seemed no one wanted him to forget.
He was Brian Kinney; stud of Liberty Avenue. Not the marrying or settling down kind. And most guys took one look at him and saw him as just someone who wanted to fuck them; knowing that a man who looked like Brian could have anyone, so why would he want to settle for just one guy. So Brian's odd attempts at coupledome had left him feeling a little used and just a little more sad and lonely and yes, he was a little jealous of what Michael had.
Michael was now married to a man he loved and had a foster-son and although Brian had a child of his own by his long time friend, Lindsay; a girl he'd met in college, he'd never really bothered to play much of a part in his son's life. Never thought he'd be any good at it until recently.
Following several homophobic attacks and particularly nasty ones at that in Pittsburgh, Mel and Lindsay had decided to take their kids and move up to Toronto. Same-sex marriages were recognized up there and in actual fact, Michael and Ben had taken advantage of that when they were up there the year before. Though of course it didn't mean a damn thing once they crossed the border back into the US. But the men had never regretted doing it and had the piece of paper to prove that somewhere at least, their union was officially recognized.
And knowing that up in Canada at least, their kids wouldn't be looked down on or treated with contempt just because they had two Moms, Mel and Lindz had moved their family up there. Their daughter, Jenny Rebecca, was Michael's, born this time to Melanie. But unlike Brian, Michael made frequent trips to TO in order to spend time with his child; Melanie always making him welcome whereas she always abused Brian and held him in little regard.
At first, Brian had agreed to the girls moving away, but then realized just what he was giving up. But as Lindsay pointed out, making them stay in the Pitts wouldn't make up for all those years he hadn't been around in his son's life and so Brian had bitten the bullet and agreed not to object to them taking his son to another country; just at the point when he knew he wanted to play a bigger part in Gus' life: in his upbringing. But Lindsay promised him that Gus would know his Dad and Brian had kept her to that.
The loft he lived in had once been described as a fuck-pad and Brian realized it was hardly the place to bring a young child back to. His advertising company, Kinnetik, was doing well and Ted Schmidt, friend and accountant, had told him he should invest some of his money. What better than in bricks and mortar.
The house in West Virginia had started out as just that; an investment. But with stables and swimming pool and plenty of ground around it, it made an ideal home for when Gus came to stay and Brian wanted that to happen as often as possible. The first visit back, Brian had been a little nervous of having Gus all on his own for the week, but with help from Debbie, who was after all, practically Gus' Grandmother and who put him right on a few questions he had, the stay had been a huge success for both Father and son and Gus had enjoyed all his trips: either Lindsay would bring him down or they'd worked it out so that he could travel with Michael when he went up to see Jenny Rebecca and Gus was in danger of accumulating his own frequent flyer miles.
The house was also a perfect venue to host any potential out-of-town clients; especially when Brian wanted to impress and give them a relaxed atmosphere in which, hopefully, to seal a contract.
Of course he knew he couldn't have guys back to the house when Gus was with him, but that was okay. The rest of the time he would continue to live at the loft nearer the office and take guys there and now, looking at his watch, Brian was beginning to wish that's exactly where he was.
Michael began his talk and Brian tried to look interested, but it wasn't long before his attention started to wander as he began to get bored. But then things started to perk up as he made a connection and found he'd caught the eye of a rather cute brunet in his mid-twenties who was sitting in the same row and who motioned to Brian to join him outside. Brian smiled; maybe this weekend wouldn't turn out a total loss after all.
The guy introduced himself as Kyle: “Whatever ...” answered Brian, not bothering to give his own name. They fucked in a stall in the men's room and the guy asked Brian if he were staying at the hotel. Brian said yes, but don't expect second helpings. Sure he was cute, but Brian didn't do anyone twice. He'd tried to get to know someone better on a few occasions recently and hadn't been taken seriously. So why bother: why should he? After all, there were just too many guys and not enough time.
“A client of mine's got a house not too far from here ... he's having a party tonight ... wanna come?” asked Kyle, as both men dressed themselves. “I could write down the address ...”
“Okay ...” Brian answered him and took the business card Kyle had written the address down on.
“Kyle Robinson ... Maitland Advertising of Cleveland?” asked Brian as he read the company name on the card. “Sure ... “ answered Kyle and Brian smiled. “Looks like we've more in common than I thought ...” and he handed Kyle one of his own cards: Kyle was impressed.
“Whose party is this?” Brian then asked him: his mind was already working overtime. Maybe he could mix a little business with pleasure and pick up some new contacts for Kinnetik. Perhaps this weekend would be worth something after all.
Back in the conference room, Michael couldn't help but see Brian disappear from the room with the guy following closely behind him. Obviously, something had come up that was far more important than listening to his talk and maybe this was just too much like old times.
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“Come with me Mikey ... I came here with you ... “ and Brian put his arms around Michael and drew him in. “You ran out on me ...” Michael reminded him. “But I came back ...” Brian pointed out. “And I promise I'll spend all day tomorrow with you ... reliving our youth ...”
“You only want me to come so I can drive you back ... what am I gonna do while you're getting laid?” snorted Michael.
“But how am I ever going to meet the man of my dreams if I keep turning down invitations?” asked Brian and he tilted his head to one side and smiled and Michael sighed: he could never refuse Brian anything when he turned on the charm.
In the end, Brian promised him they'd only stay an hour, so Michael agreed to go with him, though he knew it was highly likely they'd be there all night. It was a large house set in grounds out of town and all the lights were on and the music was blaring when they arrived: just as well there were no close neighbors or the cops would probably have been called.
The owner turned out to be none other than Harry Walker, CEO of Harvest Produce, one of the biggest fruit processing companies in the country.
“Well ... this is a pretty nice set up you've got here ...”
“Harry ...” replied their host, smiling and he and Brian shook hands.
“Kyle called ... seems like you and he are in the same business ... maybe we could talk later ... to be honest I think the business needs a more imaginative advertising strategy ... but in the meantime ... feel free to explore ... I think you'll find something to your liking ...” and he laughed and slapped the ass of a young man that walked by.
Brian nodded and looked around; several young men, obviously meant to be waiters but dressed only in bow ties and loin cloths, were passing among the crowd and handing out drinks. But on the trays were little dishes of rather interesting looking pills and something that was probably coke and not the fizzy kind. Brian smiled and introduced Michael.
“Michael will have to refrain I'm afraid ... he's a married man up here for the comic book convention ... I'm just keeping him company ...”
“There's a few comic book geeks ... no offense Michael ... here tonight ... maybe you can find someone to have a conversation with instead ... but have a drink in the meantime ...”
“Just Pepsi for me ...” stated Michael. “I'm driving ...” and Harry called over a waiter and ordered Michael's drink. “Why don't you come with me Brian ... a discerning man like you ... I think there's a few young men here who might be of interest ...” and he took Brian by the arm.
“You obviously have Michael trained well ...” he stated once out of the other man's earshot.
“What can I say ... he's a sweetheart ... do anything for me ...” answered Brian and Harry laughed as he took Brian into the next room.
Michael took his drink from the waiter and sighed and looked around. There were couples making out and one or two groups of up to about five men in each; all fawning over a young man and divesting him of his clothing.
Absentmindedly, Michael wandered in the direction that Harry had taken Brian and it wasn't too long before he found him; lying on a chaise lounge, already half-naked with three very beautiful young men attending to his every need. Michael sighed and turned around and headed for the nearest exit and took his drink out onto the patio; taking a seat next to one of the outdoor heaters.
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Michael managed to find a couple of guys who shared his passion for comic books, but none of them were much interested in talking and then, to his surprise, two hours later, Brian appeared at his side.
“Are you ready Michael?” he asked him. “You wanna leave ... already?” asked his friend, unable to believe Brian was wanting to go and it was just after midnight. “I've had anyone here worth having ...” his friend stated and Michael got up from his seat as Brian swallowed the last of his beer and put the empty bottle down on the nearest table.
Turning around sharply, Brian bumped into Kyle. “Whoa there ...” said the other man. “Little too much to drink huh? ... I guess you older guys can't put it away like you used to ...” and before Brian could answer, Kyle had turned away and disappeared through the crowd.
“What's his problem?” asked Michael and Brian frowned. “He's pissed 'cos I wouldn't fuck him twice ... older guy ... who the fuck does he think he is ...” and Brian made to go after him, but Michael took him by the arm.
“It's not worth getting into a fight over ...” he stated and he steered Brian away. Maybe his friend had taken a drink or two and may even have sampled a little of the other substances on offer, but at 34, Brian could hold his own with any man 10 years his junior.
“Did you get to talk to Harry?” asked Michael and Brian nodded. “Just a little ... got his number and he's made an appointment to come down to the Pitts ... just as well I got to him when I did ... I'll be lucky if he remembers our conversation ... he looked like he was going to get too tweaked to know what he's doing before long ...”
They walked out of the house and down the steps and Michael stopped by the driver's door of the vette and held out his hand and Brian looked at him.
“Keys ...” reminded Michael.
“You don't have to drive Mikey ... I only had one drink ...”
“And ...” Michael asked him. “And that's all ...” answered Brian, a little peeved that Michael was doubting his word.
“You are kidding me?” said his friend disbelievingly and Brian shook his head. “Nope ... one drink ... Scout's honor .. I'd planned to talk business with Harry ...” and he held up his hand in a mock salute. Michael narrowed his eyes. Brian seemed okay and if he said he'd only had one drink and nothing more, who was he to disbelieve him and walking around to the passenger door, Michael got in.
A mile down the road and Brian wound down the window. “Christ ... Brian ... it's freezing ...” moaned Michael and he drew his coat around him and reached for the heater. But Brian was becoming warmer ... too warm in fact and he'd started to sweat. He blinked and drew the back of his hand across his eyes as the road ahead started to blur and then double vision set in and he started to get the shakes: Brian tried in vain to clear his head.
The vette swerved alarmingly and Michael looked over at him. “I thought you hadn't been drinking ...” and though he could detect the smell of alcohol on Brian, it could just be the result of being in the heavy atmosphere of the house leaving a lingering scent: or was Brian's erratic driving caused by something else?
“Brian ... what are you on ... what have you taken?” demanded Michael, now alarmed and he grabbed the wheel as the car hit the curb with Brian looking as if he were about to pass out.
Michael pulled the wheel hard and yelled, but it was too late. Luckily they were both wearing their seat belts, but when the car bounced up off the curb and hit the tree by the side of the road, Brian's head made contact with the side window and then all the windows shattered as the vehicle came to rest. Michael had realized what was going to happen and had braced himself; but his head hit the door frame and he suffered a few cuts and felt the pain in his ribs as miraculously, the vette stayed upright and wedged against the tree.
There was silence and then Brian moaned. Michael may have lost consciousness for a moment, but he was soon alert to their situation. At least he couldn't smell gasoline, so hopefully, they weren't in any imminent danger of the vehicle catching fire and he looked over at Brian.
They both needed medical attention; the vette was a write-off and obviously the Police would be involved as well as the insurance company. Thank God no one else was involved and Michael reached for his cell phone and then he hesitated: he could see car headlights in the distance and knew it wouldn't be long before they had company.
Carefully, his ribs hurting like hell, he managed to climb out of the car and make his way around to the other side of the vehicle. Using all his strength, he yelped in pain as he wrenched open the driver's door.
“Move over ...” he yelled at Brian, but the man didn't react.
“MOVE OVER ...” Michael yelled louder and vacantly, Brian turned to look at him. Michael didn't like what he saw: Brian's eyes were glazed and he obviously couldn't comprehend what was being said to him. He also had several deep lacerations along his cheek, jawbone and neck from the broken side window; the blood soaking into his coat.
Michael looked down the road; the car whose lights he'd seen would soon be upon them and so he lowered himself into the vette and forcibly pushed Brian over onto the passenger side. Michael had made up his mind, when the Police came he would say he was driving; that he swerved to avoid an animal and wrecked the vette: that it was an accident and if he were found in the driver's seat it would be far more plausible. He knew that when they did the blood tests, something was bound to show up in Brian's system and if it could be proved he'd been driving while incapable it could end up with a prosecution: Brian would lose his license and it could have an adverse effect on his business if he was found to have been driving while drunk or high, but if everyone believed Michael had been driving it could go down as an unfortunate accident.
To be continued. (For some reason, this chapter wouldn't upload in one, so I've had to split it - Chapter 2 follows on immediately)