Decisions, Chapter 5A
This is the fifth chapter of Decisions - I had to post it in two parts due to LJ's length limitations. I am posting both at the same time, and the link to the second part is at the end of this part.
My beta,
gmta_nz, is the best of all possible betas in this best of all possible Brian-and-Justin-together-forever worlds.
Thanks to
orlith for the safer sex beta throughout the writing of Decisions.
Thanks to my banner goddess,
roc_abs (KT), for making it all so very, very pretty.
If you choose not to comment, I'll probably just not write the sequel no matter that my muses are screaming at me as I even type that. But comments are food, and the muses must eat.
Chapter One is here. Chapter Two is here. Chapter Three is here. Chapter 4 is here.
Decisions, Chapter 5 (part A)
By Xie
Success is generally due to holding on, and failure to letting go. The decision that nothing can overrule, the grip that nothing can detach, will bring success. -Maltbie Davenport Babcock
Brian’s POV
“You know, you really do get the best toys.”
Justin lifted his toes out of the bubbling water of the newly installed hot tub and snuggled a little more deeply against me. I ignored the rapidly pruning surface of my skin and wrapped my arms around him tighter and kissed the damp back of his neck.
“Like you?”
“I’m not a TOY!” He laughed and let his head drop back on my shoulder. “Am I?” He was in a flirty mood.
Which was fine with me.
“You’re a very high maintenance toy.” I bounced him a little with my legs and slid my hands down and spread his thighs. He slipped down in the water a tiny bit, still pressed up against me, but with his hands looped under my knees to keep him from floating away. I moved my hands up and down the inside of his thighs, with the hot water swirling all around.
“Like, what, the Corvette?” His eyes were half closed and he was very slightly rocking himself against me.
“The Corvette can only dream of being as high maintenance as you are. The Corvette doesn’t ever want to discuss our relationship, the Corvette doesn’t smear itself with full-fat ice cream and force me to lick it off, the Corvette doesn’t embarrass me in public with the loudness of its stomach rumbling when its gas tank is getting low, and the Corvette doesn’t stay up until 4 in the morning painting and then wake me up to fuck it when I have to go to work the next day.”
Justin reflected on this for a few minutes, while he slowly slid the crack of his ass over my dick.
“The Corvette,” he said thoughtfully, “doesn’t give the best head in Pittsburgh.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“In Pennsylvania?”
I shook my head.
“On the East Coast?”
“Based on my extensive research, I think you can probably say the country.”
He turned around in my arms and knelt on the bench between my legs. His hands were on my shoulders and he was smiling at me in a way he usually only did when he was really high. A kind of blissful look. I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. He leaned forward and kissed me with his lips and his tongue and even his teeth, a little bit. Then he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine.
“That would mean so much more if I didn’t just think you were saying it to get me to blow you.” Then he giggled. We’d smoked just a little pot, since there was no way my public service announcement was going to let us get into our new hot tub when we were seriously under the influence. Maybe it was just too much hot water. I got pruney and he got buzzed.
“If you didn’t give the best head in the United States, why would I bother?” He giggled again.
I decided we’d both had enough hot water and stood up, pulling him up by his hand. I felt the exact moment his body took on weight as it left the water. I stepped out of the hot tub and held his hand while he stepped out after me, and pulled him into my arms all wet and dripping. Wet Justin was probably one of my favorite things, but with him gloating over the blowjob compliment I didn’t mention it.
I just held him close and kissed him. He nuzzled his head into my neck, and then leaned into me, hard. “Mmmmm. All that hot water makes me tired.”
I smiled against his hair. “Too tired to put up a fight. I like that.”
“Brian?”
“Mmmm?” I was kissing his ear.
“Brian, when have I ever put up a fight?”
“Oh, yeah.” I stuck my tongue in his ear and wiggled it, and he giggled and arched his back at the same time. “Let’s go to bed.”
“What’s wrong with here?” We had two big double lounge chairs between the hot tub and the pool.
“Condoms. Lube. Upstairs.”
“That’s very bad planning.”
I nodded. It was. We went upstairs.
Brian’s POV
I had just gotten to my desk the next morning when Ted walked in. I took a sip of coffee.
“So, does the super-sized quintuple-shot latte help with the fatigue caused by having a horny 23-year-old at home?”
“I’m trying to imagine any situation in which I would I need your advice about dealing with a horny 23-year-old.”
Ted laughed. “OK, then, let’s try some advice on the Brown Athletics account.” And he set a pile of papers down on my desk. And I felt nostalgia for the lecture on horny 23-year-olds.
Forty-five minutes later, having once again made the world safe for men’s underwear sales, I sat back and watched Ted gather up all his papers and files.
“One more thing, Brian. Richard Bohling asked if you could meet with him in New York to discuss his new campaign for the club and some ideas on a new restaurant he’s opening - and I thought you might want to combine it with Justin’s opening.”
I nodded. “Sure. Have Cyn…Elaine set it up.” I kept trying to remember I’d promoted Cynthia out of doing every single thing I needed done the minute I needed it, but usually I forgot.
Ted left and I called Justin.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Remember that club we went to in New York?”
There was a short pause, and when he answered his voice was amused. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”
“The owner wants to meet about a new campaign when I’m there for your opening, any problem with you if we go a day early? And maybe have dinner with him?”
“Hmmm. Will you take me out dancing and ply me with liquor and Ecstasy and fuck me in public?”
“Is that a condition of going, or just a general request?”
“More a reminiscence.”
I grinned. “It’s possible I could be persuaded to do something like that.”
“Then I guess it’s possible I’ll go to New York a day early and attend a boring business dinner with you.”
I smiled, and then my other line rang. “Later.”
“Later.”
When I got home that night, only the automated lights were on, and I could hear music from Justin’s studio. I went upstairs and changed, and then came down and stuck my head in the open door. He never closed it.
“Have you had dinner?”
He looked over at me, his face distracted and a blob of blue paint under his left eye. I went and got a rag and walked over to him and wiped it off. It left a blue streak on his skin. He smiled at me. “Not yet, did you bring something?”
I nodded. “I brought food. It’s in the kitchen.” I turned and looked at what he was painting. It seemed like he’d just started this one, and it was mostly a field of blue right now. “This is new.”
He nodded. “I have something finished over there,” and he gestured vaguely to the right. I walked over and looked.
Everything he’d painted lately had a similar finish, like he was glazing them. But he wasn’t. He’d told me it was just the paint and the brushes he was using. Even things that were very textured had a sheen on them, making it all seem warmer and more accessible than acrylic paintings sometimes do. I wanted to touch them.
This painting had a field of brown speckled with darker brown and with black. It was slashed and divided with red that was edged in black, irregular, but in the way that things that look solid become irregular when you enlarge them. And then that same burnished effect over everything, almost making the eye try to soften out the ridges and the heavy layers of paint.
Justin walked up behind me and put his chin on my shoulder. He looked at the painting with me. “What do you think?”
“New colors for you.”
“I got bored.”
I looked at it some more. “You designed this on the computer.”
He didn’t say anything, and I glanced down at him. He was smiling.
I looked back at it. At first I hadn’t really realized it, but the underlying digital effect was what made the whole thing almost hypnotic, made you want to stare at it and follow all the lines to where they very slightly converging in the lower middle of the painting.
“This is amazing.”
“Thanks.” It was pretty much all he ever said, but he looked happy. I hoped he never lost his mojo, because the day I had to tell him something sucked was not a day I was looking forward to. And although I can see the difference between graphic art, the kind of stuff I work with every day, and the kind of work Justin does, at some point, everyone gets blocked or off track at one time or another.
Some of that must have showed on my face, because he looked at me.
“What?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering what to say if I ever think something doesn’t work.”
“What you used to tell me when I interned at Vangard: ‘Taylor, this sucks. Fix it.’ Maybe a little nicer, so I don’t make you sleep in the guest room.” He grinned at me.
I laughed. “Kalli would tell you making me sleep in the guest room is the opposite of what you should do if you experience creative obstacles.” I pulled him into my arms, thinking maybe we could give his creativity a boost before eating, when his stomach growled. I glared at him.
Justin burst out laughing. “I swear, Brian, I have no control over that.” He smacked my arm and then took my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Dinner. Then sex.”
Justin’s POV
Brian had brought home Chinese food, and we ate it on the sofa in the media room. I had to use a fork, my hand couldn’t manage the chopsticks.
After dinner, we were sitting on the sofa and Brian was massaging my hand. I had my eyes closed and my head was resting on his shoulder. I felt warm and sleepy and horny, and as soon as his fingers started working their way up the inside of my arm, I sat up and leaned into him and kissed him.
“Mmmmm.” He kissed me, and slid his hands under my shirt and started stroking my back and sides. I took off my t-shirt, and he took off his.
Then he leaned back, pulling me into his lap. I was lying on his chest, outlining his muscles with my tongue, licking his nipples, and his hands were stroking my hair and the back of my neck. He gave a sigh, the kind of sigh you give when you finally get into bed after a long, exhausting day. It made me smile.
He pulled me up and kissed me, one hand still in my hair and his other hand cupping my neck. I held onto him and kissed him back, our mouths open and our tongues taking turns licking the insides of each other’s mouths.
The hand on my neck moved down my back and he slipped it inside my sweats. I still felt drowsy, and his tongue in my mouth and his hand moving slowly up and down on my cock felt so good, and his chest and arms were so warm, it almost felt like a fantasy I’d sometimes had in New York when I couldn’t sleep, that Brian was holding me and playing with me. I just let him touch me and kiss me, not doing anything except murmuring into his mouth.
After a few minutes I started to thrust up into his hand and he moved it faster, and I dropped my head to his shoulder and grabbed him around his neck. I felt myself start to come, and Brian’s fist clenched in my hair while my come shot out over my stomach and thighs and his hand. And when I was done, his hand smoothed down my hair and he pulled my sweats back up and kept me nestled in his arms. I started to kiss him and he kissed me back and then whispered in my ear, “It’s ok, just go to sleep, Justin.” And his hand was in my hair and his other hand was making soft circles on my back, and I just let myself fall asleep right there.
I woke up and didn’t realize where I was at first, and then I remembered. There was a blanket over me.
I sat up and looked for Brian. He was sitting at the computer, and he smiled when he saw me.
“You’re awake.”
“Sort of.” I stood up and stretched, the blanket falling to the floor.
Brian looked tired. I didn’t like him telling me I was painting too late, so I usually tried not to drag him off his computer, but now and then I decided a double standard wasn’t the worst thing in the world and just went with it. I went over and crouched down next to him and put my hand on his thigh. He put his hand over mine and smiled at me. Up close, he looked even more tired.
“That’s it, turn it off, you’re going to bed.” I glanced at the screen. He had his Kinnetik email open. “Brian, it’s 11 PM, no one’s expecting you to be working now. Come on.”
He sighed and closed his email program and turned off the computer while I stayed there and watched. He was easily distracted late at night. I knelt in between his legs with my arms around his waist and my head against his stomach. He put his arms around my shoulders and we held still like that while his computer shut down.
The monitor went black and we both just stayed where we were, me pressing against him and him lightly holding onto me. I felt warm and sleepy but almost hyper-alert, feeling his pulse beating all through his body and his breath moving in and out under my ear. And his hands, moving just a little on my shoulders, one of them sliding closer to my neck, and the other moving down onto my upper arm.
I felt him lean down and kiss the top of my head. “Hey.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Hey.”
He kissed my mouth then, and I felt a kind of rush of desire and love all mixed together. It took me by surprise. I’d have let him push me down on the floor right there and fuck me, just to have him inside of me and all around me, right away, that minute, because I didn’t want to wait even long enough to go upstairs or take off my clothes. But he just kept kissing me, his tongue sliding around inside my mouth, his hands moving on me so gently it drove me crazy.
I pulled his face into mine harder, and then I stood up and took his hand and pulled him up, too. He smiled and kissed me again, this time with his hands sliding down to cup my ass and pull me close, bending his knees a little and lifting me up, pressing our groins together.
He smiled against my mouth. “I thought you were worried I was tired.”
I grinned back at him. “I was worried you’d be too tired to fuck me if you didn’t get off the computer right away.”
“Ted thinks keeping a horny 23-year-old happy is wearing me out.” He had his hand down my sweats and my cock in his palm, and his other hand was opening his pants.
“I think…” I kissed him again, slipping my hand inside his pants and down between his thighs to his balls. “I think Ted has no idea…” His tongue was in my mouth again and so I stopped talking for a minute. I finally broke away from him and smiled again. “Ted has no idea how much it would take to wear you out, does he? Tell him it’s a full time job. Even for a horny 23-year-old.”
Brian kissed my forehead and started kissing down my face towards my mouth. I had unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off him.
“Upstairs. Right now.” He had a look in his eyes when he said it, a look I liked, kind of dark and wild. He grabbed me at the bottom of the stairs and kissed me again, and pushed my sweats down around my knees. He had one hand on my ass and the other on my cock, and I got his pants down as much as I could and pressed into him while I kicked mine off.
I stood on the bottom step and suddenly we were the same height. He laughed a little bit as our cocks mashed together, and whispered into my mouth that finally his knees would get a break.
I didn’t really think Brian should talk about whose knees our sex life was harder on, but I was too distracted by the way his tongue was sweeping around the inside of my mouth, and then licking at my lips, to do anything about it. Finally, he grabbed my hand and we went upstairs to bed.
He was on top of me almost instantly, and I spread my legs and felt the rough surface of his pants on the inside of my thighs. I tried to get his pants all the way down but he pushed my hands away and I put them on his upper arms, letting him kiss me and rub his cock on me. I had my legs up around his waist, but loosely.
He slid down my body slowly, licking me on my neck and collarbone, lingering on the curve where my neck joined my shoulder, biting me the way he always did, leaving little marks that sometimes were gone by morning and sometimes weren’t. He had his mouth on my left nipple, his tongue swirling all around on it, then his mouth sucking it, and his tongue back again, and then his teeth, and at that point I started to tighten my legs around him and thrust my cock against his abdomen. I could feel his cock pressing into my leg, and as he moved down lower, I felt the zipper on his pants scrape against the skin on the inside of my thigh.
I dropped my legs down and he started kissing my belly, tonguing my navel and licking all around my stomach. He buried his face in my pubes and then moved back up me, dragging his tongue over my cock and finally getting his pants off and kicking them away. I reached down and got my hands into his hair while he started to suck on me, his fist closing around my cock while his mouth licked and sucked at the head. He was kneeling between my legs and his other hand was on his own cock, jerking himself roughly.
I pulled on his hair and he pulled his mouth away and looked at me. I looked down at him and he smiled and started to go back, but I stopped him again. I tried to talk but had to clear my throat first, and even then my voice sounded scratchy and rough.
“Come here.” He willingly came back up my body, but after he kissed me he started playing with my cock again, and kissing down my chest to my belly, and generally driving me crazy. I got my legs up on his shoulders, my feet resting on his back, and he started licking at my hole, teasing me with his tongue. I bucked up against his mouth, and he laughed a little but kept tongue-fucking me.
I took a deep breath and tried to let myself just sink into the feeling of his tongue in my ass, and once I did, it started to feel really good. I was just kind of floating on it, when I felt his finger pressing rhythmically against my opening, next to his tongue, and I relaxed more and let it in. I still had my legs up over Brian’s back, so I was really open, and he started gently touching my prostate and I opened even more. I covered my face with my arms and just concentrated on the feeling that was pulsing out from where his fingers were stroking me inside, and the gentle touch of his tongue outside.
Brian put a third finger at my opening, and I relaxed a little more, trying to let it in. This one was harder, but he worked it between the two already there and I pushed a little against the pressure, and then it slipped past the resistance. I kept breathing, my arms still over my face, and then I felt his three fingers all swirling on my prostate at the same time but from all different directions, and my ass clamped down hard on the base of his fingers where they were stretching my hole. It hurt, but it didn’t just hurt, it felt amazing too, so I did it again, and this time it hurt less.
I didn’t even know at that point what Brian was doing, if he was going to fuck me or wanted me to come like this, but I just rode the feeling and let him decide. I felt myself start to dissolve and I reached down and slapped at his hand, but he just moved his fingers inside me a little faster and I felt my ass clench hard again, and then my cock started pumping out on my belly and chest.
I lay there panting for a second, and he gently worked his fingers out of me, hurting me a little even though he was careful. I shifted my legs down off his shoulders, and he slid up, resting all his weight on his arms while he stretched out over me. He dropped his hard cock down into the come pooling on my belly, and started to stroke himself back and forth in it, letting more and more of his weight fall on me, until I curled my knees up around his thighs and put my hands in his hair and kissed him.
He started to slide faster on me, and it was slippery and I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into my stomach muscles. He pulled back once and then slid forward hard, and then he tensed and I felt the hot gush of his come on my belly and chest, mixing with mine. He gave a groan and dropped his head down and I sucked on his tongue while he shot all over me, and when he was done he let himself fall all the way on me.
I kept my arms and legs around him and lay there, both of us kind of glued together with our come. He moaned in my ear.
“We should shower.” I kissed his neck when I said it.
He mumbled something. I just smiled and let him fall asleep.
Brian’s POV
We got to New York on Thursday, and I had to spend the afternoon meeting with Richard Bohling about the campaign for his club and new restaurant. Justin stayed in the hotel room, his laptop open. He just grunted when I left.
I came back a few hours later, and he was asleep on the bed. No one I knew ate and slept as much as Justin. He rolled over all warm and snuggly when I woke him up, but since we had less than an hour to meet Richard for dinner, I resisted his attempts to drag me into bed with him. Unfortunately, he followed me into the shower and we were almost fifteen minutes late.
Richard didn’t seem to mind, and we joined him at a booth in the back of his restaurant. I hadn’t seen it yet, and it was elegant. He planned on remodeling parts of it, but the main area was beautiful just the way it was.
He and Justin had never met, but I’d told him I was bringing my partner, who had a show at a gallery that was opening the next night. I think he was surprised when he saw Justin, but it was just a flash of expression on his face, and he hid it immediately.
After we ordered, the conversation was mostly about the restaurant and Richard’s plans for it, and when the food and wine came, it was mostly about that. The chef was incredible, the wine list was excellent, but the fact was, there are thousands of equally good restaurants in New York City, and it took more than being good to succeed there. Of course there were a thousand advertising agencies in New York, too, and Richard probably would use one of them, but he’d used me to promote the club in the gay media, and he was at least willing to hear what I had to say about the restaurant, too. Either way, I’d keep doing the club.
“So, how are things at Babylon?”
“Fine, as long as there aren’t any more bombs.”
He laughed a little. “Yeah, not really good for business. Justin, Brian tells me you have a show opening tomorrow, what gallery is it at?”
Justin had been fairly quiet up until then, but Richard's interest sounded sincere. “Armand Collier in Chelsea.”
Richard looked surprised and didn’t hide it. “That’s very impressive. Is this your first show there?”
“It’s a group show, but it’s my third.”
Richard just looked at him, and then leaned back in the booth. “OK, start at the beginning. I’m going to guess you’re older than you look, to be doing your third show at Armand’s gallery.”
Justin just shrugged. It was his least favorite topic. Richard seemed to understand, so he went on quickly. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I paint.”
“Not conceptual art?”
Justin wrinkled his nose. “No, that’s not my thing.”
“Did you see Gerling’s show last fall?”
Justin nodded. “Like I said, not my thing, but I actually like how he got those organic forms to have such plastic textures. It was something you could do in a painting, I think it might be interesting.”
“I saw the show in Boston, actually, but I heard the installation here was better. I didn’t care for it much myself, either.”
After that we went back to discussing the restaurant business again, and when we were done eating, Justin excused himself to go to the rest room. Richard smiled at me, but didn’t barrage me with questions. I was sure he was dying of curiosity.
“I put your name on the list at the club tonight, if you and Justin feel like going out.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but one of the DJs who plays at Babylon sometimes is giving a party and we’re going to that - you know Alfe?”
Richard nodded. “He’s great, he plays at the club sometimes too.”
Justin came back and stood smiling. “We ready?”
Justin’s POV
It would be hard to imagine a more boring dinner than the one I’d just sat through, but I did my best to hide it. After it was over, Brian and I went out dancing at a party given by Alfe, one of the DJs from Babylon, who traveled up and down the East Coast doing shows. He invited us to another, private party after that, and we got back to the hotel at about 5 AM. Which was a good thing, because instead of spending the whole day in a state of nerves over the opening, I was mostly sleeping.
The opening went really well. Ted and Blake were there, in town partly to see my show and partly because, as Ted said in the hushed tones usually reserved for papal audiences, “The Met is doing La Traviata.”
I knew the big painting had sold before the show opened, just like Kalli had predicted it would. I thought one or two of the smaller ones had sold early too.
I was standing talking with Kalli and two collectors when Brian came up behind me. I introduced him, and then he stood there probably being as bored as I had been, but hiding it much better. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in what everyone had to say, about my work, and everything else in the show.
After a while, he and I went over and stood in front of the big painting. I hadn’t titled it, but that’s how we always talked about it: the big painting. It really was huge, and I loved the way it looked in the high-ceilinged space. I hoped whoever bought it had somewhere good to hang it. I was always curiously detached about my paintings after they were finished, though.
I heard Brian sigh. “I miss it.”
I laughed. “You could have bought it.”
He looked at me. “You’d have killed me.”
I kissed him lightly. “I’ll give you right of first refusal on everything from now on. But you’re right, I wanted to see what would happen with this one.”
Brian slipped his arm around my shoulder.
“Well, congratulations, Justin. You’ve just had your second complete sell-out.” It was Armand behind us.
I grinned. “Really?” I sounded twelve.
He smiled back. “Yes. Hello, Brian, nice to see you again.”
“Armand, you too.” Brian was all smooth polished graciousness again. I had to figure out how to do that.
“Justin, I’d like to talk to you about a show for the end of the year - not a solo show, you’re not ready for that, but let’s say, twelve pieces? Do you think you could do that?”
I looked at Armand for a minute and thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah, I do. Thank you…”
He cut me off. “I’ll have Kalli talk to you about the details. Congratulations again.” He shook both our hands and left.
I looked at Brian and he was smiling at me. I squeezed his hand and looked at Armand’s back as he walked away.
Brian’s POV
I saw Michael’s car when I got home from work the Monday after we got back from New York. He and Justin were in the studio working on Rage. I went in and said hi, then left them to work while I took a shower and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, and ate some of the pizza they’d left on the counter.
I was sitting at my computer a couple of hours later when they came into the media room. Justin was rubbing his hand and Michael looked aggravated. I lifted my eyebrows at the two of them.
“Michael says there’s a gallery in LA that wants to do a show featuring drawings from underground comics, and they want to include Rage.”
Michael started to explain, but Justin cut him off. “I googled them, it’s a good gallery. High end.” Which was what I wanted to know.
“It’s a great opportunity for us. But Justin won’t do it.”
Justin looked stubborn. “I’m not having my first show on the West Coast be for Rage.”
“Justin, what difference does that make? It gets your name out there, it’s good for your career.” Michael was looking frustrated.
“No. If I’d shown there before as a painter, I’d consider it. But now, no. Just no. I’m serious, Michael. I’m sorry, but no.”
Michael started to say something else, but I cut in. “I agree with Justin.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a shock.”
But I shook my head. “No, I agree with him because he’s right, Michael. Not about Rage maybe, but about his own career. If his first West Coast show is for the comic, it’ll hurt him down the road when he tries to show there as a painter. If he were better known as a painter, doing the comic would just make him more interesting, more quirky, more marketable. But becoming known for the comic first will just make it harder for him to be taken seriously as a painter.”
Michael didn’t look convinced, but Justin looked a lot calmer. “I’m really sorry, Michael, but what Brian’s saying is what I’ve been trying to tell you. We have to tell them no.”
I went over to the bar and got out a glass, and then hesitated. “Do either of you want a drink?” Justin took one, but Michael shook his head.
“Can I get a soda or something? I should head out soon.”
Justin went in the kitchen to get him one, and I poured a glass of Jack Daniels. I looked at Michael for a minute, then started to say something, but he held up his hand.
“Don’t bother. I know you think you’re right, and maybe for Justin you’re right. That doesn’t mean it’s right for me, or for Rage.”
I shrugged, but didn’t argue. He was right.
Justin came back in and handed Michael a coke. He looked really tired, and the minute he gave Michael the can, he started rubbing his hand again.
“Have you guys been working, or talking?” I walked over to Justin and started massaging his hand for him. He tensed for a second, but I gave him a look, and he relaxed and let me rub it.
Michael frowned. “We were working before we talked.”
Justin had been having acupuncture every couple of weeks, and as long as he kept going, he was able to draw for longer periods of time. But I was pretty sure most of the drawing he’d been doing tonight wasn’t work, but just a way of expressing his frustration at his argument with Michael. I’d seen him slashing his pencil at a sheet of paper when he was angry, and it made my hand hurt to think about it.
Justin glanced up at me, and smiled a little. He went up on his toes and kissed me. “I’m going to go clean up in there and then I think I’ll go to bed. I’m really tired.”
I kissed him and stood there watching while he walked out the door, and then turned back to Michael.
I must have looked angry, because Michael got defensive. “I thought his hand was better. He told me it’s better.”
I tried to make my face look less pissed off. None of this was Michael’s fault. “It is. He can draw now for an hour instead of 20 minutes before he’s in so much pain he can’t hold a cup of coffee.”
Michael didn’t say anything right away. “I’m not making him draw, Brian.”
“I know. I’m just trying to tell you what the problem is. Do you get it? Sometimes I see him drawing that fucking comic and he’s holding his hand, trying to get enough done for that day without having to start over on the computer.”
I took a swallow of my drink. “Do you know why I bought this scanner? Because half the time he can’t finish what he’s drawing, and he has to scan in what he’s done so far and finish it on the computer. It’s almost like he has to start over from scratch. And you know why the FUCKING scanner’s in here and not in his studio? Because if he knew I’d bought if for him, for that, he’d have been pissed off and probably not used it.” I put my glass down and filled it again.
I knew Michael was looking at me, but I didn’t look at him. He surprised me by walking over to me and getting right in my face. “Brian. Brian, listen to me. Justin’s fine, he’s ok.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Brian, he’s ok. He really is. He’s really ok.” At some point, Michael had pulled me into a hug, and he was patting my hair and just saying over and over that Justin was OK. And I just felt so tired all of a sudden, and I let him tell me that.
He pulled back a little and frowned. “Sit down, over here.” I sat on the sofa and he sat down next to me. I just stared forward.
“Brian… have you and Justin talked about this?”
“What, his hand?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then he said, “Yeah.”
“Of course we have.”
I thought he might say something more, but he finished his soda and gave me a hug, and went home.
Justin’s POV
Mel and Lindsay were having a housewarming party Friday night, and I drove into the city late that afternoon to meet Brian. My car needed to go into the dealership for its 2500-mile checkup on Monday, and I didn’t want to have to get up and drive in at rush hour, so I was dropping it off that afternoon, and then going to the party with Brian. I walked in the door of Kinnetik, and the receptionist smiled at me. “Hi, Justin. He said you were coming, but he’s on the phone. Go on in.”
I thanked her and walked through his office doors. He had his back to me, and had his phone to his ear, but he wasn’t saying anything. I walked over to the desk and leaned on it, and he turned around in his chair and put a hand on my hip without even looking at me. I glanced down at his computer, but it was just the screensaver.
Finally, Brian interjected something into the conversation. “Eric, I have to go now, let’s just leave all that until the meeting, and I’ll tell Cynthia to figure out the logistics.” Now he looked at me, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds great. Talk to you then.” And he flipped the phone shut.
“Hard day at the office, honey?” I let him pull me in closer, and he rested his face against my stomach. I put my hands on his head.
“Mmmmm. Yeah. People are idiots. Have you ever noticed that?”
I agreed they were. He grinned up at me and pulled me off balance, and I slid down into his lap.
“That’s a very smooth move, Mr. Kinney.”
“I practice it on my interns.” He started kissing me, and then slid his hand down from my waist to my groin, and cupped my cock with his hand.
I put my hand over his, and then he started opening my pants, and I laughed. “Hey! Is this appropriate workplace behavior, Mr. Kinney?”
He just nuzzled my neck and kept opening my pants, and then wrapped his hand around my cock. I wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Is this appropriate workplace attire, Taylor?” And then he squeezed.
I hissed a little, and just then, I heard a knock at the door, and it opened. I bent forward a little bit, but Brian didn’t move, not even to take his hand off my dick.
“I really hope, Theodore, that what’s in your hand is a lot more important than what’s in mine.”
“Excuse me, sorry, ummm, hi Justin. See you at the party, nothing that won’t wait until Monday…” and then I heard the door close again.
Brian and I both burst out laughing. But I put my dick away and got out of his lap. “OK, time for the lesbian housewarming party. You still have to shower and change.” And I pulled him out of the chair.
We stopped at the loft so Brian could get ready. We’d talked about going to Babylon after, so we were both dressed more for that than for Mel and Lindsay’s, but I had pulled a sweater over my t-shirt.
When we got to the front door we both hesitated. Brian seemed on edge. I turned to him and grabbed onto his jacket with my fists and went up on my toes and kissed him. He held onto me and kissed me back, and then looked at me with his eyebrows raised. He still seemed tense.
“Promise to behave tonight and then we’ll go to Babylon. Drugs, alcohol, loud music, sex. All the things you like.” Then I kissed him on the mouth, my whole body pressed against his, and my arms around his neck. Sometimes this approach backfired, but after one last bit of hesitation, I felt him relax and laugh and start kissing me back, his tongue deep in my mouth and his hands coming up under my jacket and gathering me close.
“Oh my God, Brian’s trying to lick Justin’s tonsils.”
It was Deb, carrying a huge foil-covered pan, and Carl behind her on the path. I dropped down off my toes and moved slightly away from Brian, although he kept his arms around me.
Brian grinned at Debbie. “Justin happens to have very delicious tonsils.”
He took the pan from her and opened the door and ushered her in. I blushed a little when Carl smiled at me, but he just shook my hand with both of his, then kind of patted me on the back as he walked in the door. “Good to see you, Justin.” I remembered that Emmett lived in their house. I’m sure seeing two guys sucking face was one of the tamer things he’d witnessed.
“Justin!” Lindsay turned from greeting Debbie, and gave me a hug. Brian was already getting a beer in the dining room.
I hugged Lindsay and then Debbie got me into a death grip. “How’ve you been, Sunshine?”
I smiled at her. “I’m doing great, Deb, how are you doing?”
She slapped my cheek and laughed, and Brian came back and handed me an open beer. “Now, Debbie, leaving red marks on Justin’s cheeks is my job.” I blushed and jammed my elbow into Brian while she laughed.
“You promised to behave.”
He put his tongue into his cheek while he looked down at me. “I thought you just meant I couldn’t do anything terrible to Eli or Monty.”
Lindsay laughed. “They’re not coming.”
I looked at her in surprise. “How come?”
“Oh, Mel can’t stand them.”
Brian snorted. “Every now and then I have to admit it: I agree with Mel.”
Lindsay gave him a look, but smiled at the same time. “Why don’t you remember that and give her a get out of jail free card for the next time you decide to take her on?”
He shrugged. “Mel’s the lawyer, have her draw something up and I’ll sign it.” Lindsay just rolled her eyes.
I took my beer and went and sat down with Michael, who had JR on his lap. “How’s she doing? I miss having them around.”
He was holding her around her waist while she stood on his lap, and I stuck my finger out so she could grasp it in one of her tiny hands. “She’s perfect, as always. You would never believe…”
There was very little I wouldn’t believe at this point about JR, who according to Michael was the world’s most amazing child. I was just waiting for him to suggest Rage and JT adopt a baby, and had a number of answers rehearsed ranging from “Not in this universe or any other” to threatening to stop drawing the comic. Fortunately, before it could come up, Ben came over.
“Michael tells me your show couldn’t have gone better, Justin. That’s great.” Ben always acted sincerely happy when I accomplished something. He was the only one of Brian’s friends who didn’t seem to need to mentally remind himself I’m not a teenager any more every time we started a conversation.
“I was really happy with how it went. They want more pieces for the next show, I’m just trying to figure out how to get everything done in the time I have.”
He nodded and we started talking about how hard it is to be creative on a deadline. Michael excused himself to go get some food, handing JR to Ben. He smiled at me over the baby’s head.
“So, do you miss New York? I grew up there, and there’s really no place like it.”
I shrugged. “I like it. I like visiting more than living there.” Then I grinned. “I especially like visiting it up to Brian’s standards rather than living in it up to mine.”
Ben laughed and started to say something else, but Michael came back, and JR burped or cooed and they got that darling baby Jenny look on their faces, so I went looking for food. I looked around for Brian, in case he wanted to break his rule of never eating lesbian food, and saw him sneak out the front door, probably to have a cigarette. I went and sat down with Emmett.
“Hey, baby! Back from conquering the New York art world?”
I nodded. “Shit, what IS this stuff?”
Emmett looked at my plate with disdain. “Vegetarian lasagna.”
I pushed it around and then took another bite. “I’m glad to be home, though. I have a shitload of work to do, for a show at the end of the year.”
He asked me about clubs in New York, and I told him about Alfe’s appearance at the club Brian and I had gone to, and then went back to the table to see if there was anything more closely resembling food to eat.
Brian’s POV
I was sitting on the porch steps, smoking. It was raining and almost dark. I heard the door open and close, but I didn’t look around to see who was joining me until Debbie sat next to me on the top step.
I turned and smiled at her, big and fake. “My, you’re looking lovely tonight, Deb.” She laughed at me.
“I’d have to say the same for you. I guess marriage agrees with you.”
“Justin and I aren’t married.”
She laughed again. “Like me and Carl aren’t married, you mean?”
I was pretty sure I was falling into a trap but I nodded. They weren’t married.
“So I guess living in sin agrees with us both.” She just sat there for a little while, watching me smoke. I knew she’d get around to whatever life lesson she planned on sharing with me before too long.
“What I’m saying, Brian, is you look happy.”
Fuck, was it everyone’s mission in life to tell me I looked happy? I was going to have to work on my facial expressions.
She wasn’t done. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look happy for more than ten minutes at a time since I knew you.”
I shrugged. Most people realized an almost complete lack of verbal response and eye contact meant the conversation was over, but Debbie’s not most people.
She sighed. “Just don’t fuck it up.”
“Deb, stay out of it.” There was absolutely no possibility Deb would listen to that. I had no idea why I even bothered saying it.
“Brian, can we skip the part where you tell me it’s none of my business and get to the part where you shut up and listen to me?”
“That requires large amounts of pot and noodle-based cuisine. I know you don’t have a joint down your bra today, because Carl’s here, and I don’t think the lesbian lasagna’s gonna do it.”
Debbie reached over and pinched my cheek, hard, and then smacked it lightly with her palm. “Just do what I said. Don’t fuck it up.”
I blew smoke out my nose and then turned my head very slightly in her direction and glared at her. She just laughed again and went inside. My glare never did work on Debbie.
I ground out my cigarette and lit another one, and kept sitting there watching the rain falling. I counted to ten before the door opened again, and didn’t have to look around to know it was Justin. He moved towards me without hesitating. Michael or Lindsay would have shuffled around for a while and then said my name. Justin just plonked down next to me on the stair and bumped his shoulder into my arm.
“What did Debbie want?”
“To warn me not to fuck it up.”
“What up?”
“Us.”
Justin was silent for a minute, taking my cigarette out of my hand and taking a drag off it, and then giving it back. I threw it into a patch of mud and old crusty snow on the edge of the path.
He rested his head on my arm, and after a second I lifted up my arm and put it around him. We sat like that for a little while, and then he turned his face and pressed a kiss into my shoulder. “Do you think she thinks you’ll fuck it up?”
That surprised me. Justin knew Debbie pretty well. “No, I guess not. It’s just her way of letting me know she’s onto me.”
Justin smiled at that. “And is she?”
I turned my face to the side and rested my chin on his head. “Sometimes.” I pulled him a little bit closer and he turned and got both his arms around my waist. I wrapped my other arm around him then, too. It had stopped raining and was getting colder. “She’s always been pretty onto me about you.”
He looked at me, his eyes clear but not smiling. “Yeah?”
I nodded and kissed his forehead. “Yeah.”
There are people who find stuff just popping out of their mouth all the time. Michael, for instance, used to pretty much live that way, constantly being surprised at what he just heard himself say. And Justin sometimes gets this look on his face after he says something, and I know he hadn’t known he was going to say it. But what I said next, I knew I was going to say.
“She told me to tell you I loved you.”
He shifted slightly and looked at me, confused. “After the bomb?”
I shook my head. “Zucchini man.” I wasn’t sure he’d remember, but I waited to see.
“Jesus, Brian.”
I didn’t say anything. He pulled back and looked up at me, like he was trying to figure out exactly what I meant. “I wish you’d told me.”
I shrugged. “I thought you knew.”
Justin put his head back down on my shoulder but didn’t say anything right away. “I knew you loved me.” His voice was muffled against me. “I didn’t know you knew you did.”
I laughed a little. “It probably wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“No.” He sounded sad but a little bit like he was laughing, too. “We were a fucking train wreck.”
I put my face down and kissed him, kind of messy. I felt his lips smiling under mine, and I pulled him even closer to me. It was fucking freezing, but I didn’t want to go inside. What I wanted was Justin, naked and wrapped around me, but it was too cold and too public, sitting on the front porch of Mel and Lindsay’s little cottage in Stepfordland. I pushed that out of my mind and we just kept kissing. The insides of our mouths were hot, and the air was cold, and I knew we should stop, but I didn’t, and neither did he.
I felt him shivering and at first I wasn’t sure why, but then I realized he was really cold. He was only wearing a sweater over his shirt. I pulled off my leather jacket and put it around him, and kept my arms inside it, holding him. He murmured but kept kissing me, and started to slide his hands inside my shirt, bringing cold air and making me shiver, too.
“We have to go in.” I was talking right against his mouth. I felt him nod. We stood up and I pulled him in tight again, wrapping my jacket around him and as much around me as I could. I pressed my forehead to his and he gave me a smile, and we went back in the house.
Justin’s POV
When we got inside, Brian kept his arm around me for a minute, and then let it drop while he went and got a beer from a big tub of ice on the floor near the table. I saw Lindsay say something to him, and he went off towards the family room with her. I didn’t see Michael around so I assumed some kind of gaming war was about to take place on the expensive electronics Brian thought were so important in Gus’ life.
I went over to the table and got some more lasagna and salad.
I went into the family room and saw Brian sitting on the floor with Gus inside his crossed legs. Brian and Gus were sharing the controls for whatever high-tech combat system they were manipulating, and Michael was sitting next to them. Michael suddenly let out a whoop and slammed his fingers on a button, and Gus looked like he was going to explode.
“Daddy! Daddy! Let me have it, let me have it!” Gus was batting at Brian’s hands on the control panel.
“I’ve got him, I’ve got it.” Brian punched something and Michael groaned, and then Brian let Gus take the box from him. “He is so dead.”
I sat down on the floor next to them and looked at the cataclysm on the plasma TV screen. It didn’t look familiar to me from my days at the magazine, so I had to assume it was new. Of course. Brian probably had all new games shipped directly to Gus from the manufacturer. Knowing him, he’d had Gus enrolled as a beta tester.
Brian glanced at me and smiled, but kept his hands near the control panel. Michael might be down but Brian wasn’t going to let a moment’s inattention let him get up again before he was totally destroyed.
“Who’s winning?” It was Lindsay from behind us.
“We are!” Gus’ voice was breathless.
“They’re CHEATING.” That was Michael.
Brian snorted. “You only say we’re cheating because you’re losing.”
“There’s two of you and one of me.” Michael’s fingers were flying rapidly over the box, and the lack of a six-year-old battling for the controls didn’t seem to be slowing him down. Gus gave an agonized yelp, and shoved the controls back at Brian, who started flailing away as maniacally as Michael was.
Lindsay sat down on the sofa behind us, so I got up and sat with her. I set my mostly empty plate down on the coffee table. She smiled at me. “I heard the show in New York was wildly successful, Justin. I’m so happy for you.”
Gus shrieked again, and Michael yelled “BRIAN!” Brian laughed.
“Thanks. It went really well. He talked to me about doing my own show next year sometime.”
Lindsay moved so she was sitting sideways in the corner of the couch, facing me, one leg drawn up under her. “Justin, that’s amazing. That’s… absolutely wonderful.” She sounded happy but just the tiniest bit surprised. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to come, but with the kids…”
I nodded, watching Gus squirming in Brian’s lap. I couldn’t quite see him at an art opening. Just then Michael shouted “NO!” and Brian and Gus laughed insanely, and then Gus got up and started pounding on Michael’s shoulders. “We won, you die, we won, you die!”
Brian was still laughing, and actually, so was Michael, but Lindsay got her mommy voice on. “Brian, the important thing is that Gus learns good sportsmanship.”
Brian gave her a look like she’d grown two heads. “The important thing is that Gus learns to mercilessly crush his opponent and then dance on his grave.”
Michael stood up, still fending off Gus. “Hey! That’s me you’re mercilessly crushing!”
Brian rolled over and got on his knees and grabbed Gus. He put him on his shoulders and stood up, which brought Gus’ head dangerously close to the ceiling.
I looked at Lindsay, expecting her to be pissed, but she was biting her lips and trying not to laugh. “Jesus, Brian, you sound like Mel.”
Brian gave her a pained look and I laughed.
Continued in part 5b here.
My beta,
gmta_nz, is the best of all possible betas in this best of all possible Brian-and-Justin-together-forever worlds.
Thanks to
orlith for the safer sex beta throughout the writing of Decisions.
Thanks to my banner goddess,
roc_abs (KT), for making it all so very, very pretty.
If you choose not to comment, I'll probably just not write the sequel no matter that my muses are screaming at me as I even type that. But comments are food, and the muses must eat.
Chapter One is here. Chapter Two is here. Chapter Three is here. Chapter 4 is here.
Decisions, Chapter 5 (part A)
By Xie
Success is generally due to holding on, and failure to letting go. The decision that nothing can overrule, the grip that nothing can detach, will bring success. -Maltbie Davenport Babcock
Brian’s POV
“You know, you really do get the best toys.”
Justin lifted his toes out of the bubbling water of the newly installed hot tub and snuggled a little more deeply against me. I ignored the rapidly pruning surface of my skin and wrapped my arms around him tighter and kissed the damp back of his neck.
“Like you?”
“I’m not a TOY!” He laughed and let his head drop back on my shoulder. “Am I?” He was in a flirty mood.
Which was fine with me.
“You’re a very high maintenance toy.” I bounced him a little with my legs and slid my hands down and spread his thighs. He slipped down in the water a tiny bit, still pressed up against me, but with his hands looped under my knees to keep him from floating away. I moved my hands up and down the inside of his thighs, with the hot water swirling all around.
“Like, what, the Corvette?” His eyes were half closed and he was very slightly rocking himself against me.
“The Corvette can only dream of being as high maintenance as you are. The Corvette doesn’t ever want to discuss our relationship, the Corvette doesn’t smear itself with full-fat ice cream and force me to lick it off, the Corvette doesn’t embarrass me in public with the loudness of its stomach rumbling when its gas tank is getting low, and the Corvette doesn’t stay up until 4 in the morning painting and then wake me up to fuck it when I have to go to work the next day.”
Justin reflected on this for a few minutes, while he slowly slid the crack of his ass over my dick.
“The Corvette,” he said thoughtfully, “doesn’t give the best head in Pittsburgh.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“In Pennsylvania?”
I shook my head.
“On the East Coast?”
“Based on my extensive research, I think you can probably say the country.”
He turned around in my arms and knelt on the bench between my legs. His hands were on my shoulders and he was smiling at me in a way he usually only did when he was really high. A kind of blissful look. I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. He leaned forward and kissed me with his lips and his tongue and even his teeth, a little bit. Then he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine.
“That would mean so much more if I didn’t just think you were saying it to get me to blow you.” Then he giggled. We’d smoked just a little pot, since there was no way my public service announcement was going to let us get into our new hot tub when we were seriously under the influence. Maybe it was just too much hot water. I got pruney and he got buzzed.
“If you didn’t give the best head in the United States, why would I bother?” He giggled again.
I decided we’d both had enough hot water and stood up, pulling him up by his hand. I felt the exact moment his body took on weight as it left the water. I stepped out of the hot tub and held his hand while he stepped out after me, and pulled him into my arms all wet and dripping. Wet Justin was probably one of my favorite things, but with him gloating over the blowjob compliment I didn’t mention it.
I just held him close and kissed him. He nuzzled his head into my neck, and then leaned into me, hard. “Mmmmm. All that hot water makes me tired.”
I smiled against his hair. “Too tired to put up a fight. I like that.”
“Brian?”
“Mmmm?” I was kissing his ear.
“Brian, when have I ever put up a fight?”
“Oh, yeah.” I stuck my tongue in his ear and wiggled it, and he giggled and arched his back at the same time. “Let’s go to bed.”
“What’s wrong with here?” We had two big double lounge chairs between the hot tub and the pool.
“Condoms. Lube. Upstairs.”
“That’s very bad planning.”
I nodded. It was. We went upstairs.
Brian’s POV
I had just gotten to my desk the next morning when Ted walked in. I took a sip of coffee.
“So, does the super-sized quintuple-shot latte help with the fatigue caused by having a horny 23-year-old at home?”
“I’m trying to imagine any situation in which I would I need your advice about dealing with a horny 23-year-old.”
Ted laughed. “OK, then, let’s try some advice on the Brown Athletics account.” And he set a pile of papers down on my desk. And I felt nostalgia for the lecture on horny 23-year-olds.
Forty-five minutes later, having once again made the world safe for men’s underwear sales, I sat back and watched Ted gather up all his papers and files.
“One more thing, Brian. Richard Bohling asked if you could meet with him in New York to discuss his new campaign for the club and some ideas on a new restaurant he’s opening - and I thought you might want to combine it with Justin’s opening.”
I nodded. “Sure. Have Cyn…Elaine set it up.” I kept trying to remember I’d promoted Cynthia out of doing every single thing I needed done the minute I needed it, but usually I forgot.
Ted left and I called Justin.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Remember that club we went to in New York?”
There was a short pause, and when he answered his voice was amused. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”
“The owner wants to meet about a new campaign when I’m there for your opening, any problem with you if we go a day early? And maybe have dinner with him?”
“Hmmm. Will you take me out dancing and ply me with liquor and Ecstasy and fuck me in public?”
“Is that a condition of going, or just a general request?”
“More a reminiscence.”
I grinned. “It’s possible I could be persuaded to do something like that.”
“Then I guess it’s possible I’ll go to New York a day early and attend a boring business dinner with you.”
I smiled, and then my other line rang. “Later.”
“Later.”
When I got home that night, only the automated lights were on, and I could hear music from Justin’s studio. I went upstairs and changed, and then came down and stuck my head in the open door. He never closed it.
“Have you had dinner?”
He looked over at me, his face distracted and a blob of blue paint under his left eye. I went and got a rag and walked over to him and wiped it off. It left a blue streak on his skin. He smiled at me. “Not yet, did you bring something?”
I nodded. “I brought food. It’s in the kitchen.” I turned and looked at what he was painting. It seemed like he’d just started this one, and it was mostly a field of blue right now. “This is new.”
He nodded. “I have something finished over there,” and he gestured vaguely to the right. I walked over and looked.
Everything he’d painted lately had a similar finish, like he was glazing them. But he wasn’t. He’d told me it was just the paint and the brushes he was using. Even things that were very textured had a sheen on them, making it all seem warmer and more accessible than acrylic paintings sometimes do. I wanted to touch them.
This painting had a field of brown speckled with darker brown and with black. It was slashed and divided with red that was edged in black, irregular, but in the way that things that look solid become irregular when you enlarge them. And then that same burnished effect over everything, almost making the eye try to soften out the ridges and the heavy layers of paint.
Justin walked up behind me and put his chin on my shoulder. He looked at the painting with me. “What do you think?”
“New colors for you.”
“I got bored.”
I looked at it some more. “You designed this on the computer.”
He didn’t say anything, and I glanced down at him. He was smiling.
I looked back at it. At first I hadn’t really realized it, but the underlying digital effect was what made the whole thing almost hypnotic, made you want to stare at it and follow all the lines to where they very slightly converging in the lower middle of the painting.
“This is amazing.”
“Thanks.” It was pretty much all he ever said, but he looked happy. I hoped he never lost his mojo, because the day I had to tell him something sucked was not a day I was looking forward to. And although I can see the difference between graphic art, the kind of stuff I work with every day, and the kind of work Justin does, at some point, everyone gets blocked or off track at one time or another.
Some of that must have showed on my face, because he looked at me.
“What?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering what to say if I ever think something doesn’t work.”
“What you used to tell me when I interned at Vangard: ‘Taylor, this sucks. Fix it.’ Maybe a little nicer, so I don’t make you sleep in the guest room.” He grinned at me.
I laughed. “Kalli would tell you making me sleep in the guest room is the opposite of what you should do if you experience creative obstacles.” I pulled him into my arms, thinking maybe we could give his creativity a boost before eating, when his stomach growled. I glared at him.
Justin burst out laughing. “I swear, Brian, I have no control over that.” He smacked my arm and then took my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Dinner. Then sex.”
Justin’s POV
Brian had brought home Chinese food, and we ate it on the sofa in the media room. I had to use a fork, my hand couldn’t manage the chopsticks.
After dinner, we were sitting on the sofa and Brian was massaging my hand. I had my eyes closed and my head was resting on his shoulder. I felt warm and sleepy and horny, and as soon as his fingers started working their way up the inside of my arm, I sat up and leaned into him and kissed him.
“Mmmmm.” He kissed me, and slid his hands under my shirt and started stroking my back and sides. I took off my t-shirt, and he took off his.
Then he leaned back, pulling me into his lap. I was lying on his chest, outlining his muscles with my tongue, licking his nipples, and his hands were stroking my hair and the back of my neck. He gave a sigh, the kind of sigh you give when you finally get into bed after a long, exhausting day. It made me smile.
He pulled me up and kissed me, one hand still in my hair and his other hand cupping my neck. I held onto him and kissed him back, our mouths open and our tongues taking turns licking the insides of each other’s mouths.
The hand on my neck moved down my back and he slipped it inside my sweats. I still felt drowsy, and his tongue in my mouth and his hand moving slowly up and down on my cock felt so good, and his chest and arms were so warm, it almost felt like a fantasy I’d sometimes had in New York when I couldn’t sleep, that Brian was holding me and playing with me. I just let him touch me and kiss me, not doing anything except murmuring into his mouth.
After a few minutes I started to thrust up into his hand and he moved it faster, and I dropped my head to his shoulder and grabbed him around his neck. I felt myself start to come, and Brian’s fist clenched in my hair while my come shot out over my stomach and thighs and his hand. And when I was done, his hand smoothed down my hair and he pulled my sweats back up and kept me nestled in his arms. I started to kiss him and he kissed me back and then whispered in my ear, “It’s ok, just go to sleep, Justin.” And his hand was in my hair and his other hand was making soft circles on my back, and I just let myself fall asleep right there.
I woke up and didn’t realize where I was at first, and then I remembered. There was a blanket over me.
I sat up and looked for Brian. He was sitting at the computer, and he smiled when he saw me.
“You’re awake.”
“Sort of.” I stood up and stretched, the blanket falling to the floor.
Brian looked tired. I didn’t like him telling me I was painting too late, so I usually tried not to drag him off his computer, but now and then I decided a double standard wasn’t the worst thing in the world and just went with it. I went over and crouched down next to him and put my hand on his thigh. He put his hand over mine and smiled at me. Up close, he looked even more tired.
“That’s it, turn it off, you’re going to bed.” I glanced at the screen. He had his Kinnetik email open. “Brian, it’s 11 PM, no one’s expecting you to be working now. Come on.”
He sighed and closed his email program and turned off the computer while I stayed there and watched. He was easily distracted late at night. I knelt in between his legs with my arms around his waist and my head against his stomach. He put his arms around my shoulders and we held still like that while his computer shut down.
The monitor went black and we both just stayed where we were, me pressing against him and him lightly holding onto me. I felt warm and sleepy but almost hyper-alert, feeling his pulse beating all through his body and his breath moving in and out under my ear. And his hands, moving just a little on my shoulders, one of them sliding closer to my neck, and the other moving down onto my upper arm.
I felt him lean down and kiss the top of my head. “Hey.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Hey.”
He kissed my mouth then, and I felt a kind of rush of desire and love all mixed together. It took me by surprise. I’d have let him push me down on the floor right there and fuck me, just to have him inside of me and all around me, right away, that minute, because I didn’t want to wait even long enough to go upstairs or take off my clothes. But he just kept kissing me, his tongue sliding around inside my mouth, his hands moving on me so gently it drove me crazy.
I pulled his face into mine harder, and then I stood up and took his hand and pulled him up, too. He smiled and kissed me again, this time with his hands sliding down to cup my ass and pull me close, bending his knees a little and lifting me up, pressing our groins together.
He smiled against my mouth. “I thought you were worried I was tired.”
I grinned back at him. “I was worried you’d be too tired to fuck me if you didn’t get off the computer right away.”
“Ted thinks keeping a horny 23-year-old happy is wearing me out.” He had his hand down my sweats and my cock in his palm, and his other hand was opening his pants.
“I think…” I kissed him again, slipping my hand inside his pants and down between his thighs to his balls. “I think Ted has no idea…” His tongue was in my mouth again and so I stopped talking for a minute. I finally broke away from him and smiled again. “Ted has no idea how much it would take to wear you out, does he? Tell him it’s a full time job. Even for a horny 23-year-old.”
Brian kissed my forehead and started kissing down my face towards my mouth. I had unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off him.
“Upstairs. Right now.” He had a look in his eyes when he said it, a look I liked, kind of dark and wild. He grabbed me at the bottom of the stairs and kissed me again, and pushed my sweats down around my knees. He had one hand on my ass and the other on my cock, and I got his pants down as much as I could and pressed into him while I kicked mine off.
I stood on the bottom step and suddenly we were the same height. He laughed a little bit as our cocks mashed together, and whispered into my mouth that finally his knees would get a break.
I didn’t really think Brian should talk about whose knees our sex life was harder on, but I was too distracted by the way his tongue was sweeping around the inside of my mouth, and then licking at my lips, to do anything about it. Finally, he grabbed my hand and we went upstairs to bed.
He was on top of me almost instantly, and I spread my legs and felt the rough surface of his pants on the inside of my thighs. I tried to get his pants all the way down but he pushed my hands away and I put them on his upper arms, letting him kiss me and rub his cock on me. I had my legs up around his waist, but loosely.
He slid down my body slowly, licking me on my neck and collarbone, lingering on the curve where my neck joined my shoulder, biting me the way he always did, leaving little marks that sometimes were gone by morning and sometimes weren’t. He had his mouth on my left nipple, his tongue swirling all around on it, then his mouth sucking it, and his tongue back again, and then his teeth, and at that point I started to tighten my legs around him and thrust my cock against his abdomen. I could feel his cock pressing into my leg, and as he moved down lower, I felt the zipper on his pants scrape against the skin on the inside of my thigh.
I dropped my legs down and he started kissing my belly, tonguing my navel and licking all around my stomach. He buried his face in my pubes and then moved back up me, dragging his tongue over my cock and finally getting his pants off and kicking them away. I reached down and got my hands into his hair while he started to suck on me, his fist closing around my cock while his mouth licked and sucked at the head. He was kneeling between my legs and his other hand was on his own cock, jerking himself roughly.
I pulled on his hair and he pulled his mouth away and looked at me. I looked down at him and he smiled and started to go back, but I stopped him again. I tried to talk but had to clear my throat first, and even then my voice sounded scratchy and rough.
“Come here.” He willingly came back up my body, but after he kissed me he started playing with my cock again, and kissing down my chest to my belly, and generally driving me crazy. I got my legs up on his shoulders, my feet resting on his back, and he started licking at my hole, teasing me with his tongue. I bucked up against his mouth, and he laughed a little but kept tongue-fucking me.
I took a deep breath and tried to let myself just sink into the feeling of his tongue in my ass, and once I did, it started to feel really good. I was just kind of floating on it, when I felt his finger pressing rhythmically against my opening, next to his tongue, and I relaxed more and let it in. I still had my legs up over Brian’s back, so I was really open, and he started gently touching my prostate and I opened even more. I covered my face with my arms and just concentrated on the feeling that was pulsing out from where his fingers were stroking me inside, and the gentle touch of his tongue outside.
Brian put a third finger at my opening, and I relaxed a little more, trying to let it in. This one was harder, but he worked it between the two already there and I pushed a little against the pressure, and then it slipped past the resistance. I kept breathing, my arms still over my face, and then I felt his three fingers all swirling on my prostate at the same time but from all different directions, and my ass clamped down hard on the base of his fingers where they were stretching my hole. It hurt, but it didn’t just hurt, it felt amazing too, so I did it again, and this time it hurt less.
I didn’t even know at that point what Brian was doing, if he was going to fuck me or wanted me to come like this, but I just rode the feeling and let him decide. I felt myself start to dissolve and I reached down and slapped at his hand, but he just moved his fingers inside me a little faster and I felt my ass clench hard again, and then my cock started pumping out on my belly and chest.
I lay there panting for a second, and he gently worked his fingers out of me, hurting me a little even though he was careful. I shifted my legs down off his shoulders, and he slid up, resting all his weight on his arms while he stretched out over me. He dropped his hard cock down into the come pooling on my belly, and started to stroke himself back and forth in it, letting more and more of his weight fall on me, until I curled my knees up around his thighs and put my hands in his hair and kissed him.
He started to slide faster on me, and it was slippery and I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into my stomach muscles. He pulled back once and then slid forward hard, and then he tensed and I felt the hot gush of his come on my belly and chest, mixing with mine. He gave a groan and dropped his head down and I sucked on his tongue while he shot all over me, and when he was done he let himself fall all the way on me.
I kept my arms and legs around him and lay there, both of us kind of glued together with our come. He moaned in my ear.
“We should shower.” I kissed his neck when I said it.
He mumbled something. I just smiled and let him fall asleep.
Brian’s POV
We got to New York on Thursday, and I had to spend the afternoon meeting with Richard Bohling about the campaign for his club and new restaurant. Justin stayed in the hotel room, his laptop open. He just grunted when I left.
I came back a few hours later, and he was asleep on the bed. No one I knew ate and slept as much as Justin. He rolled over all warm and snuggly when I woke him up, but since we had less than an hour to meet Richard for dinner, I resisted his attempts to drag me into bed with him. Unfortunately, he followed me into the shower and we were almost fifteen minutes late.
Richard didn’t seem to mind, and we joined him at a booth in the back of his restaurant. I hadn’t seen it yet, and it was elegant. He planned on remodeling parts of it, but the main area was beautiful just the way it was.
He and Justin had never met, but I’d told him I was bringing my partner, who had a show at a gallery that was opening the next night. I think he was surprised when he saw Justin, but it was just a flash of expression on his face, and he hid it immediately.
After we ordered, the conversation was mostly about the restaurant and Richard’s plans for it, and when the food and wine came, it was mostly about that. The chef was incredible, the wine list was excellent, but the fact was, there are thousands of equally good restaurants in New York City, and it took more than being good to succeed there. Of course there were a thousand advertising agencies in New York, too, and Richard probably would use one of them, but he’d used me to promote the club in the gay media, and he was at least willing to hear what I had to say about the restaurant, too. Either way, I’d keep doing the club.
“So, how are things at Babylon?”
“Fine, as long as there aren’t any more bombs.”
He laughed a little. “Yeah, not really good for business. Justin, Brian tells me you have a show opening tomorrow, what gallery is it at?”
Justin had been fairly quiet up until then, but Richard's interest sounded sincere. “Armand Collier in Chelsea.”
Richard looked surprised and didn’t hide it. “That’s very impressive. Is this your first show there?”
“It’s a group show, but it’s my third.”
Richard just looked at him, and then leaned back in the booth. “OK, start at the beginning. I’m going to guess you’re older than you look, to be doing your third show at Armand’s gallery.”
Justin just shrugged. It was his least favorite topic. Richard seemed to understand, so he went on quickly. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I paint.”
“Not conceptual art?”
Justin wrinkled his nose. “No, that’s not my thing.”
“Did you see Gerling’s show last fall?”
Justin nodded. “Like I said, not my thing, but I actually like how he got those organic forms to have such plastic textures. It was something you could do in a painting, I think it might be interesting.”
“I saw the show in Boston, actually, but I heard the installation here was better. I didn’t care for it much myself, either.”
After that we went back to discussing the restaurant business again, and when we were done eating, Justin excused himself to go to the rest room. Richard smiled at me, but didn’t barrage me with questions. I was sure he was dying of curiosity.
“I put your name on the list at the club tonight, if you and Justin feel like going out.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but one of the DJs who plays at Babylon sometimes is giving a party and we’re going to that - you know Alfe?”
Richard nodded. “He’s great, he plays at the club sometimes too.”
Justin came back and stood smiling. “We ready?”
Justin’s POV
It would be hard to imagine a more boring dinner than the one I’d just sat through, but I did my best to hide it. After it was over, Brian and I went out dancing at a party given by Alfe, one of the DJs from Babylon, who traveled up and down the East Coast doing shows. He invited us to another, private party after that, and we got back to the hotel at about 5 AM. Which was a good thing, because instead of spending the whole day in a state of nerves over the opening, I was mostly sleeping.
The opening went really well. Ted and Blake were there, in town partly to see my show and partly because, as Ted said in the hushed tones usually reserved for papal audiences, “The Met is doing La Traviata.”
I knew the big painting had sold before the show opened, just like Kalli had predicted it would. I thought one or two of the smaller ones had sold early too.
I was standing talking with Kalli and two collectors when Brian came up behind me. I introduced him, and then he stood there probably being as bored as I had been, but hiding it much better. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in what everyone had to say, about my work, and everything else in the show.
After a while, he and I went over and stood in front of the big painting. I hadn’t titled it, but that’s how we always talked about it: the big painting. It really was huge, and I loved the way it looked in the high-ceilinged space. I hoped whoever bought it had somewhere good to hang it. I was always curiously detached about my paintings after they were finished, though.
I heard Brian sigh. “I miss it.”
I laughed. “You could have bought it.”
He looked at me. “You’d have killed me.”
I kissed him lightly. “I’ll give you right of first refusal on everything from now on. But you’re right, I wanted to see what would happen with this one.”
Brian slipped his arm around my shoulder.
“Well, congratulations, Justin. You’ve just had your second complete sell-out.” It was Armand behind us.
I grinned. “Really?” I sounded twelve.
He smiled back. “Yes. Hello, Brian, nice to see you again.”
“Armand, you too.” Brian was all smooth polished graciousness again. I had to figure out how to do that.
“Justin, I’d like to talk to you about a show for the end of the year - not a solo show, you’re not ready for that, but let’s say, twelve pieces? Do you think you could do that?”
I looked at Armand for a minute and thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah, I do. Thank you…”
He cut me off. “I’ll have Kalli talk to you about the details. Congratulations again.” He shook both our hands and left.
I looked at Brian and he was smiling at me. I squeezed his hand and looked at Armand’s back as he walked away.
Brian’s POV
I saw Michael’s car when I got home from work the Monday after we got back from New York. He and Justin were in the studio working on Rage. I went in and said hi, then left them to work while I took a shower and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, and ate some of the pizza they’d left on the counter.
I was sitting at my computer a couple of hours later when they came into the media room. Justin was rubbing his hand and Michael looked aggravated. I lifted my eyebrows at the two of them.
“Michael says there’s a gallery in LA that wants to do a show featuring drawings from underground comics, and they want to include Rage.”
Michael started to explain, but Justin cut him off. “I googled them, it’s a good gallery. High end.” Which was what I wanted to know.
“It’s a great opportunity for us. But Justin won’t do it.”
Justin looked stubborn. “I’m not having my first show on the West Coast be for Rage.”
“Justin, what difference does that make? It gets your name out there, it’s good for your career.” Michael was looking frustrated.
“No. If I’d shown there before as a painter, I’d consider it. But now, no. Just no. I’m serious, Michael. I’m sorry, but no.”
Michael started to say something else, but I cut in. “I agree with Justin.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a shock.”
But I shook my head. “No, I agree with him because he’s right, Michael. Not about Rage maybe, but about his own career. If his first West Coast show is for the comic, it’ll hurt him down the road when he tries to show there as a painter. If he were better known as a painter, doing the comic would just make him more interesting, more quirky, more marketable. But becoming known for the comic first will just make it harder for him to be taken seriously as a painter.”
Michael didn’t look convinced, but Justin looked a lot calmer. “I’m really sorry, Michael, but what Brian’s saying is what I’ve been trying to tell you. We have to tell them no.”
I went over to the bar and got out a glass, and then hesitated. “Do either of you want a drink?” Justin took one, but Michael shook his head.
“Can I get a soda or something? I should head out soon.”
Justin went in the kitchen to get him one, and I poured a glass of Jack Daniels. I looked at Michael for a minute, then started to say something, but he held up his hand.
“Don’t bother. I know you think you’re right, and maybe for Justin you’re right. That doesn’t mean it’s right for me, or for Rage.”
I shrugged, but didn’t argue. He was right.
Justin came back in and handed Michael a coke. He looked really tired, and the minute he gave Michael the can, he started rubbing his hand again.
“Have you guys been working, or talking?” I walked over to Justin and started massaging his hand for him. He tensed for a second, but I gave him a look, and he relaxed and let me rub it.
Michael frowned. “We were working before we talked.”
Justin had been having acupuncture every couple of weeks, and as long as he kept going, he was able to draw for longer periods of time. But I was pretty sure most of the drawing he’d been doing tonight wasn’t work, but just a way of expressing his frustration at his argument with Michael. I’d seen him slashing his pencil at a sheet of paper when he was angry, and it made my hand hurt to think about it.
Justin glanced up at me, and smiled a little. He went up on his toes and kissed me. “I’m going to go clean up in there and then I think I’ll go to bed. I’m really tired.”
I kissed him and stood there watching while he walked out the door, and then turned back to Michael.
I must have looked angry, because Michael got defensive. “I thought his hand was better. He told me it’s better.”
I tried to make my face look less pissed off. None of this was Michael’s fault. “It is. He can draw now for an hour instead of 20 minutes before he’s in so much pain he can’t hold a cup of coffee.”
Michael didn’t say anything right away. “I’m not making him draw, Brian.”
“I know. I’m just trying to tell you what the problem is. Do you get it? Sometimes I see him drawing that fucking comic and he’s holding his hand, trying to get enough done for that day without having to start over on the computer.”
I took a swallow of my drink. “Do you know why I bought this scanner? Because half the time he can’t finish what he’s drawing, and he has to scan in what he’s done so far and finish it on the computer. It’s almost like he has to start over from scratch. And you know why the FUCKING scanner’s in here and not in his studio? Because if he knew I’d bought if for him, for that, he’d have been pissed off and probably not used it.” I put my glass down and filled it again.
I knew Michael was looking at me, but I didn’t look at him. He surprised me by walking over to me and getting right in my face. “Brian. Brian, listen to me. Justin’s fine, he’s ok.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Brian, he’s ok. He really is. He’s really ok.” At some point, Michael had pulled me into a hug, and he was patting my hair and just saying over and over that Justin was OK. And I just felt so tired all of a sudden, and I let him tell me that.
He pulled back a little and frowned. “Sit down, over here.” I sat on the sofa and he sat down next to me. I just stared forward.
“Brian… have you and Justin talked about this?”
“What, his hand?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then he said, “Yeah.”
“Of course we have.”
I thought he might say something more, but he finished his soda and gave me a hug, and went home.
Justin’s POV
Mel and Lindsay were having a housewarming party Friday night, and I drove into the city late that afternoon to meet Brian. My car needed to go into the dealership for its 2500-mile checkup on Monday, and I didn’t want to have to get up and drive in at rush hour, so I was dropping it off that afternoon, and then going to the party with Brian. I walked in the door of Kinnetik, and the receptionist smiled at me. “Hi, Justin. He said you were coming, but he’s on the phone. Go on in.”
I thanked her and walked through his office doors. He had his back to me, and had his phone to his ear, but he wasn’t saying anything. I walked over to the desk and leaned on it, and he turned around in his chair and put a hand on my hip without even looking at me. I glanced down at his computer, but it was just the screensaver.
Finally, Brian interjected something into the conversation. “Eric, I have to go now, let’s just leave all that until the meeting, and I’ll tell Cynthia to figure out the logistics.” Now he looked at me, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds great. Talk to you then.” And he flipped the phone shut.
“Hard day at the office, honey?” I let him pull me in closer, and he rested his face against my stomach. I put my hands on his head.
“Mmmmm. Yeah. People are idiots. Have you ever noticed that?”
I agreed they were. He grinned up at me and pulled me off balance, and I slid down into his lap.
“That’s a very smooth move, Mr. Kinney.”
“I practice it on my interns.” He started kissing me, and then slid his hand down from my waist to my groin, and cupped my cock with his hand.
I put my hand over his, and then he started opening my pants, and I laughed. “Hey! Is this appropriate workplace behavior, Mr. Kinney?”
He just nuzzled my neck and kept opening my pants, and then wrapped his hand around my cock. I wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Is this appropriate workplace attire, Taylor?” And then he squeezed.
I hissed a little, and just then, I heard a knock at the door, and it opened. I bent forward a little bit, but Brian didn’t move, not even to take his hand off my dick.
“I really hope, Theodore, that what’s in your hand is a lot more important than what’s in mine.”
“Excuse me, sorry, ummm, hi Justin. See you at the party, nothing that won’t wait until Monday…” and then I heard the door close again.
Brian and I both burst out laughing. But I put my dick away and got out of his lap. “OK, time for the lesbian housewarming party. You still have to shower and change.” And I pulled him out of the chair.
We stopped at the loft so Brian could get ready. We’d talked about going to Babylon after, so we were both dressed more for that than for Mel and Lindsay’s, but I had pulled a sweater over my t-shirt.
When we got to the front door we both hesitated. Brian seemed on edge. I turned to him and grabbed onto his jacket with my fists and went up on my toes and kissed him. He held onto me and kissed me back, and then looked at me with his eyebrows raised. He still seemed tense.
“Promise to behave tonight and then we’ll go to Babylon. Drugs, alcohol, loud music, sex. All the things you like.” Then I kissed him on the mouth, my whole body pressed against his, and my arms around his neck. Sometimes this approach backfired, but after one last bit of hesitation, I felt him relax and laugh and start kissing me back, his tongue deep in my mouth and his hands coming up under my jacket and gathering me close.
“Oh my God, Brian’s trying to lick Justin’s tonsils.”
It was Deb, carrying a huge foil-covered pan, and Carl behind her on the path. I dropped down off my toes and moved slightly away from Brian, although he kept his arms around me.
Brian grinned at Debbie. “Justin happens to have very delicious tonsils.”
He took the pan from her and opened the door and ushered her in. I blushed a little when Carl smiled at me, but he just shook my hand with both of his, then kind of patted me on the back as he walked in the door. “Good to see you, Justin.” I remembered that Emmett lived in their house. I’m sure seeing two guys sucking face was one of the tamer things he’d witnessed.
“Justin!” Lindsay turned from greeting Debbie, and gave me a hug. Brian was already getting a beer in the dining room.
I hugged Lindsay and then Debbie got me into a death grip. “How’ve you been, Sunshine?”
I smiled at her. “I’m doing great, Deb, how are you doing?”
She slapped my cheek and laughed, and Brian came back and handed me an open beer. “Now, Debbie, leaving red marks on Justin’s cheeks is my job.” I blushed and jammed my elbow into Brian while she laughed.
“You promised to behave.”
He put his tongue into his cheek while he looked down at me. “I thought you just meant I couldn’t do anything terrible to Eli or Monty.”
Lindsay laughed. “They’re not coming.”
I looked at her in surprise. “How come?”
“Oh, Mel can’t stand them.”
Brian snorted. “Every now and then I have to admit it: I agree with Mel.”
Lindsay gave him a look, but smiled at the same time. “Why don’t you remember that and give her a get out of jail free card for the next time you decide to take her on?”
He shrugged. “Mel’s the lawyer, have her draw something up and I’ll sign it.” Lindsay just rolled her eyes.
I took my beer and went and sat down with Michael, who had JR on his lap. “How’s she doing? I miss having them around.”
He was holding her around her waist while she stood on his lap, and I stuck my finger out so she could grasp it in one of her tiny hands. “She’s perfect, as always. You would never believe…”
There was very little I wouldn’t believe at this point about JR, who according to Michael was the world’s most amazing child. I was just waiting for him to suggest Rage and JT adopt a baby, and had a number of answers rehearsed ranging from “Not in this universe or any other” to threatening to stop drawing the comic. Fortunately, before it could come up, Ben came over.
“Michael tells me your show couldn’t have gone better, Justin. That’s great.” Ben always acted sincerely happy when I accomplished something. He was the only one of Brian’s friends who didn’t seem to need to mentally remind himself I’m not a teenager any more every time we started a conversation.
“I was really happy with how it went. They want more pieces for the next show, I’m just trying to figure out how to get everything done in the time I have.”
He nodded and we started talking about how hard it is to be creative on a deadline. Michael excused himself to go get some food, handing JR to Ben. He smiled at me over the baby’s head.
“So, do you miss New York? I grew up there, and there’s really no place like it.”
I shrugged. “I like it. I like visiting more than living there.” Then I grinned. “I especially like visiting it up to Brian’s standards rather than living in it up to mine.”
Ben laughed and started to say something else, but Michael came back, and JR burped or cooed and they got that darling baby Jenny look on their faces, so I went looking for food. I looked around for Brian, in case he wanted to break his rule of never eating lesbian food, and saw him sneak out the front door, probably to have a cigarette. I went and sat down with Emmett.
“Hey, baby! Back from conquering the New York art world?”
I nodded. “Shit, what IS this stuff?”
Emmett looked at my plate with disdain. “Vegetarian lasagna.”
I pushed it around and then took another bite. “I’m glad to be home, though. I have a shitload of work to do, for a show at the end of the year.”
He asked me about clubs in New York, and I told him about Alfe’s appearance at the club Brian and I had gone to, and then went back to the table to see if there was anything more closely resembling food to eat.
Brian’s POV
I was sitting on the porch steps, smoking. It was raining and almost dark. I heard the door open and close, but I didn’t look around to see who was joining me until Debbie sat next to me on the top step.
I turned and smiled at her, big and fake. “My, you’re looking lovely tonight, Deb.” She laughed at me.
“I’d have to say the same for you. I guess marriage agrees with you.”
“Justin and I aren’t married.”
She laughed again. “Like me and Carl aren’t married, you mean?”
I was pretty sure I was falling into a trap but I nodded. They weren’t married.
“So I guess living in sin agrees with us both.” She just sat there for a little while, watching me smoke. I knew she’d get around to whatever life lesson she planned on sharing with me before too long.
“What I’m saying, Brian, is you look happy.”
Fuck, was it everyone’s mission in life to tell me I looked happy? I was going to have to work on my facial expressions.
She wasn’t done. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look happy for more than ten minutes at a time since I knew you.”
I shrugged. Most people realized an almost complete lack of verbal response and eye contact meant the conversation was over, but Debbie’s not most people.
She sighed. “Just don’t fuck it up.”
“Deb, stay out of it.” There was absolutely no possibility Deb would listen to that. I had no idea why I even bothered saying it.
“Brian, can we skip the part where you tell me it’s none of my business and get to the part where you shut up and listen to me?”
“That requires large amounts of pot and noodle-based cuisine. I know you don’t have a joint down your bra today, because Carl’s here, and I don’t think the lesbian lasagna’s gonna do it.”
Debbie reached over and pinched my cheek, hard, and then smacked it lightly with her palm. “Just do what I said. Don’t fuck it up.”
I blew smoke out my nose and then turned my head very slightly in her direction and glared at her. She just laughed again and went inside. My glare never did work on Debbie.
I ground out my cigarette and lit another one, and kept sitting there watching the rain falling. I counted to ten before the door opened again, and didn’t have to look around to know it was Justin. He moved towards me without hesitating. Michael or Lindsay would have shuffled around for a while and then said my name. Justin just plonked down next to me on the stair and bumped his shoulder into my arm.
“What did Debbie want?”
“To warn me not to fuck it up.”
“What up?”
“Us.”
Justin was silent for a minute, taking my cigarette out of my hand and taking a drag off it, and then giving it back. I threw it into a patch of mud and old crusty snow on the edge of the path.
He rested his head on my arm, and after a second I lifted up my arm and put it around him. We sat like that for a little while, and then he turned his face and pressed a kiss into my shoulder. “Do you think she thinks you’ll fuck it up?”
That surprised me. Justin knew Debbie pretty well. “No, I guess not. It’s just her way of letting me know she’s onto me.”
Justin smiled at that. “And is she?”
I turned my face to the side and rested my chin on his head. “Sometimes.” I pulled him a little bit closer and he turned and got both his arms around my waist. I wrapped my other arm around him then, too. It had stopped raining and was getting colder. “She’s always been pretty onto me about you.”
He looked at me, his eyes clear but not smiling. “Yeah?”
I nodded and kissed his forehead. “Yeah.”
There are people who find stuff just popping out of their mouth all the time. Michael, for instance, used to pretty much live that way, constantly being surprised at what he just heard himself say. And Justin sometimes gets this look on his face after he says something, and I know he hadn’t known he was going to say it. But what I said next, I knew I was going to say.
“She told me to tell you I loved you.”
He shifted slightly and looked at me, confused. “After the bomb?”
I shook my head. “Zucchini man.” I wasn’t sure he’d remember, but I waited to see.
“Jesus, Brian.”
I didn’t say anything. He pulled back and looked up at me, like he was trying to figure out exactly what I meant. “I wish you’d told me.”
I shrugged. “I thought you knew.”
Justin put his head back down on my shoulder but didn’t say anything right away. “I knew you loved me.” His voice was muffled against me. “I didn’t know you knew you did.”
I laughed a little. “It probably wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“No.” He sounded sad but a little bit like he was laughing, too. “We were a fucking train wreck.”
I put my face down and kissed him, kind of messy. I felt his lips smiling under mine, and I pulled him even closer to me. It was fucking freezing, but I didn’t want to go inside. What I wanted was Justin, naked and wrapped around me, but it was too cold and too public, sitting on the front porch of Mel and Lindsay’s little cottage in Stepfordland. I pushed that out of my mind and we just kept kissing. The insides of our mouths were hot, and the air was cold, and I knew we should stop, but I didn’t, and neither did he.
I felt him shivering and at first I wasn’t sure why, but then I realized he was really cold. He was only wearing a sweater over his shirt. I pulled off my leather jacket and put it around him, and kept my arms inside it, holding him. He murmured but kept kissing me, and started to slide his hands inside my shirt, bringing cold air and making me shiver, too.
“We have to go in.” I was talking right against his mouth. I felt him nod. We stood up and I pulled him in tight again, wrapping my jacket around him and as much around me as I could. I pressed my forehead to his and he gave me a smile, and we went back in the house.
Justin’s POV
When we got inside, Brian kept his arm around me for a minute, and then let it drop while he went and got a beer from a big tub of ice on the floor near the table. I saw Lindsay say something to him, and he went off towards the family room with her. I didn’t see Michael around so I assumed some kind of gaming war was about to take place on the expensive electronics Brian thought were so important in Gus’ life.
I went over to the table and got some more lasagna and salad.
I went into the family room and saw Brian sitting on the floor with Gus inside his crossed legs. Brian and Gus were sharing the controls for whatever high-tech combat system they were manipulating, and Michael was sitting next to them. Michael suddenly let out a whoop and slammed his fingers on a button, and Gus looked like he was going to explode.
“Daddy! Daddy! Let me have it, let me have it!” Gus was batting at Brian’s hands on the control panel.
“I’ve got him, I’ve got it.” Brian punched something and Michael groaned, and then Brian let Gus take the box from him. “He is so dead.”
I sat down on the floor next to them and looked at the cataclysm on the plasma TV screen. It didn’t look familiar to me from my days at the magazine, so I had to assume it was new. Of course. Brian probably had all new games shipped directly to Gus from the manufacturer. Knowing him, he’d had Gus enrolled as a beta tester.
Brian glanced at me and smiled, but kept his hands near the control panel. Michael might be down but Brian wasn’t going to let a moment’s inattention let him get up again before he was totally destroyed.
“Who’s winning?” It was Lindsay from behind us.
“We are!” Gus’ voice was breathless.
“They’re CHEATING.” That was Michael.
Brian snorted. “You only say we’re cheating because you’re losing.”
“There’s two of you and one of me.” Michael’s fingers were flying rapidly over the box, and the lack of a six-year-old battling for the controls didn’t seem to be slowing him down. Gus gave an agonized yelp, and shoved the controls back at Brian, who started flailing away as maniacally as Michael was.
Lindsay sat down on the sofa behind us, so I got up and sat with her. I set my mostly empty plate down on the coffee table. She smiled at me. “I heard the show in New York was wildly successful, Justin. I’m so happy for you.”
Gus shrieked again, and Michael yelled “BRIAN!” Brian laughed.
“Thanks. It went really well. He talked to me about doing my own show next year sometime.”
Lindsay moved so she was sitting sideways in the corner of the couch, facing me, one leg drawn up under her. “Justin, that’s amazing. That’s… absolutely wonderful.” She sounded happy but just the tiniest bit surprised. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to come, but with the kids…”
I nodded, watching Gus squirming in Brian’s lap. I couldn’t quite see him at an art opening. Just then Michael shouted “NO!” and Brian and Gus laughed insanely, and then Gus got up and started pounding on Michael’s shoulders. “We won, you die, we won, you die!”
Brian was still laughing, and actually, so was Michael, but Lindsay got her mommy voice on. “Brian, the important thing is that Gus learns good sportsmanship.”
Brian gave her a look like she’d grown two heads. “The important thing is that Gus learns to mercilessly crush his opponent and then dance on his grave.”
Michael stood up, still fending off Gus. “Hey! That’s me you’re mercilessly crushing!”
Brian rolled over and got on his knees and grabbed Gus. He put him on his shoulders and stood up, which brought Gus’ head dangerously close to the ceiling.
I looked at Lindsay, expecting her to be pissed, but she was biting her lips and trying not to laugh. “Jesus, Brian, you sound like Mel.”
Brian gave her a pained look and I laughed.
Continued in part 5b here.