In His Kiss

Chapter 31

All I want for Christmas


Gus had discovered how to open the front door and kept running out to the front lawn to play in the snow, getting completely soaked every time.

“Just turn the bolt,” advised Debbie. “Almost everybody’s here. They’ll just have to ring the bell.”

Gus was outraged at this bit of adult trickery, and Justin took it upon himself to make him forget his plight by wrestling with him in the middle of the living room, blowing raspberries onto his round tummy. The doorbell chimed and they went to answer the door together, Justin raising Gus in his arms so he could throw the bolt.

“Good job, big boy! Let’s see who this is!”

Holding Gus on his hip, he opened the door. On the stoop was Brian Kinney, his arms full of gaily wrapped packages. He raised a nonchalant eyebrow.

“The ubiquitous Justin Taylor…”

Justin just stared at him for a minute, trying to wrap his mind around that sudden apparition.

“Brian, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, considering that this is the house where I’ve had the last fifteen Christmas dinners, and that it’s my son you are holding on your hip, I have a feeling I should be asking that question.”

Holly fucking shit.

“You’re Gus’s Father?

“Yes, ‘Jutsin’! That’s my Daddy!”

“How are you, sonny boy?”

“Good. Did you bring me a present?”

“Lots of presents, which I will put down as soon as Mr. Taylor, here, is kind enough to let me in.”

“Daddy, that’s not Mister Taylor, that’s my ‘Jutsin’.”

Justin smiled at Gus then looked back at Brian, still not believing his eyes.

“Sorry. Come on in,” he said, getting out of the way.

He relocked the door and put Gus down. Brian dumped his packages and lifted his son in his arms.

“Daddy!” cried Gus, throwing his arms around Brian’s neck. “Mommy! Daddy’s here!” Soon Brian was surrounded, hugged and kissed. It was like a surreal dream. Justin thought he should pinch himself. He left the welcoming party to join Daphne who was still in the kitchen, taking turns with Carl at beating egg whites since the food processor had given up the ghost a half hour before.

“Daphne! Gus’s dad’s just arrived.”

“So I gathered,” she answered, manically whisking away.

Justin leaned to her a little and said, “I want to get out of here. It’s Brian.”

“Huh?” She looked up from the bowl, the whisk suddenly immobile, a very confused look on her face.

“Apparently, Gus’s dad is Brian Kinney.”

“No. Fucking. Way… Oh my God, Justin! That is just… just… too unreal!”

“What’s unreal?” inquired Carl, taking the bowl from her and whisking quickly.

“Gus’s dad was Justin’s boss in New York!”

“That’s quite a coincidence!” He looked up and stopped beating the egg whites as well.

“Yes,” agreed Justin wholeheartedly. “A really strange and extremely uncomfortable coincidence. I’m going to head out. Daph, you don’t have to leave. Just let me borrow your car and I’m sure someone will give you a lift back.”

Daphne reluctantly handed him her keys. ”I don’t see why you feel you have to leave,” she said.

“Trust me. I do.”

“If you guys just talked…”

Carl was looking at the exchange, his cop’s brain deducing a lot from little information.

“There is nothing to talk about, Daphne. We said goodbye in New York, and now here’s me, leaving.”

Brian walked into the kitchen and immediately noticed the keys in Justin’s hand. “Are you going somewhere, Justin?”

“I’m leaving,” Justin replied, just as Daphne said, “Justin is going to get ice.”

Carl added, “Justin was just leaving to go get some ice.” He winked at Daphne, who beamed at him.

“No, I…” started Justin.

But Brian interrupted. “I’ll come with you,” he said, taking the keys out of Justin’s hand and putting them down on the table.

Carl smiled, as he opened the back door. “You can take your time. Without the food processor, dinner is nowhere near ready,” and he gave Justin a little push.

Before he really knew how it had happened, Justin was sitting in a classic Corvette’s passenger seat and Brian was driving in the opposite direction from the Seven-Eleven. They drove in complete silence for a while until he stopped the car, in some posh neighborhood, underneath an Elm.

“So… Justin, how in the world do you come to be at Debbie Novotny’s house for Christmas dinner?” Brian asked, his eyes roaming all over Justin before coming back and looking at his face.

“Daphne. She’s been my best friend since kindergarten. She shares an apartment with Emmett. Her parents are in Africa, on sabbatical. Debbie invited her, us, for Thanksgiving, and now for Christmas.” Why was he here, having this conversation?

“You’re from Pittsburgh?” Unconsciously, Brian started to reach for Justin but stopped himself, letting his hand fall on the gearshift.

Justin shrugged. “As are you, evidently.” Justin looked at Brian’s hand, wanting its touch so much, and hating himself for it.

Dots connected in Brian’s brain. “You’re the kid that got bashed by the football captain.”

Justin looked at him, and suddenly he knew, he just knew. “Oh my God. You sent me my first computer, didn’t you?”

Brian looked at the tree outside his window. “I read an article Debbie had taped on her cash register and later that day saw some guy using a stylus to draw on a computer screen, in the art department of my old firm. I thought it might help. I had Cynthia send it.”

Justin put his face in his hands. “My life is so weird. I was already confused about how I feel about you, and now this.”

“You didn’t seem confused last time we talked.”

“No. I wasn’t then. I had it all figured out. I couldn’t want something from you that would change who you are, because then you wouldn’t be the man I fell in love with anymore.”

He looked at Brian, at that beautiful face. Brian raised a questioning eyebrow.

“That was before I knew how much it would fucking HURT, Brian. Now I’d give anything for you to change, to forget your rules. I miss you and want you so fucking much.” He looked away, staring at the snow-covered street without seeing it, his throat tight. “But I know you won’t. No repeats, right? You made that painfully clear that morning. No exceptions. Whatever our special connection, it doesn’t matter. It’s more trouble than it’s worth. I’m more trouble than it’s worth. Yet, stupidly, I’m still in love with you. Hence the confusion.”

Brian did not look at him, or comment on what he had just said. Justin was not surprised. What was there to say? Things were pretty set at this point. So he was surprised when Brian spoke:

“Justin… Sam has asked me to offer you a part time job, in the Art Department, as Assistant Creative Manager. He thinks of you as part of his team and he wants you back. You can start when you return and make your own hours. You’ll be paid probably ten times more than at the diner, you’ll get medical and dental coverage, and it will look great on your resume.”

Wow. That was the last thing Justin had expected to come out of Brian’s mouth. Assistant Creative Manager at Plexus. No more diner. A job he enjoyed fully with people he liked and decent money as well… Then something occurred to him. Why was Brian telling him this now?

“Sam couldn’t know you’d meet me here. When did he ask you to offer me the job?” Justin had a feeling he knew the answer already.

“When you showed us your paintings.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…”

“Because I didn’t want you to be hired by Plexus immediately after your internship. I didn’t want to be in a position ‘to abuse my authority’ as your superior and have to follow the no fraternization rule. I wanted to fuck you.”

Well, you could always count on Brian for the un-garnished truth.

“And now that you have ‘had’ me, you can tell me about it and be my boss once more. You have no intention of fucking me again anyway, so it all works out.”

“Exactly.”

“So… When exactly were you going to tell me about the job?”

He wasn't sure which feeling was stronger: hurt, at the added proof that, to Brian, he had only been a one time fuck, or anger at Brian’s self serving manipulation, with no thought for anyone but himself.

Brian turned to look at him.

“Never.”

He couldn’t have heard right. He wasn’t going to ever offer him the job? “What? Why?”

“I don’t want you to work for Plexus, Justin.”

Now Justin was really upset. “Well, fuck you! You were lucky to have me, you asshole. I did fabulous work for your fucking firm!“

“I agree completely.”

“Then why wouldn’t you want me to have the job?”

“What do you think?”

Justin stopped to think for a moment. Brian couldn’t think he was incompetent, because they both knew he was brilliant. Brian had no vested interest in Justin continuing to waste his time at the stupid diner. And though it would be hard for Justin to run into Brian, Brian, by suggesting at first that he would go to Essengy whenever he pleased, had made it quite clear that he didn’t give a fuck whether he saw Justin or not. So, what the… Oh. Perhaps Brian didn’t want him to work for Plexus because he didn’t want to be his boss. Maybe because he wanted to be able to fuck him. Again.

“You want to fuck me again?”

But he knew Brian’s rules, the rules Brian had made a point to repeat to him that morning, to make sure things were crystal clear in Justin’s mind. No repeats. So what the hell was going on?

“Justin, listen to me. Are you listening?” Brian did reach for Justin’s face now, pushing his hair back from his forehead, caressing his jaw. Justin looked up at him. He should push his hand away. He should. But it felt so good…

“Yeah. I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to fuck you again. When have you and I ever fucked? I want to make love with you again. And again, and again, and again, for as long as you’ll let me.“ He let his hand drop, and looked at his lap, rolling in his lips as he added softly, “I am far from perfect and I’m not going to change overnight. I think you know what you can expect from me. So it has to be your choice, Justin. You can take the job at Plexus… or leave it.” And he looked back at Justin, his expression naked, for once.

Justin looked at Brian’s face, at the vulnerability he saw there, a vulnerability he was quite sure had probably never, ever been seen there before. Brian was offering what he honestly thought he could give. He was offering Justin the chance to be the guy he fucked more than once.

But Brian also spent fifty extra minutes in a cab in the middle of the night to bring him home, came to his room after work to sit with him when he was sick, gave him a clean t-shirt and clean boxers so he wouldn’t feel grungy on his flight, and understood his paintings. And he was the man with whom sex felt like it should feel, if you loved someone.

Justin smiled and asked, “What job?”

And Brian was kissing him hungrily, holding him as close as the steering wheel, the gearshift, and their winter coats permitted. In Justin’s opinion, that wasn’t anywhere near close enough.

“Can we… go somewhere?” Justin asked, hopeful.

Brian gave him a scorching look and started the engine. Traffic was almost nonexistent and Brian put the ‘Vette through its paces.

Only fifteen minutes later they were in his suite and only about a minute after that they were naked, kissing, rolling, sucking and fucking, though Brian was right. It was not fucking. Not when your heart is beating so hard you can hear it, not when you cannot stop looking at each other, not when you care way more about how good it feels to him than how good it feels to you, though it is so fucking good you think you’ll go blind with it, and you see stars, and you come like never before, screaming his name.

They lay side by side, their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle, Brian’s hand caressing his hipbone.

“Stay here with me till we go back to New York,” said Brian.

“It is a very nice suite,” joked Justin, smiling.

Brian came up on his elbow and ran his hand on Justin’s body, just lightly caressing his skin.

“Justin. I know you’re here to visit with your friend, but I’d like you to come sleep here at night, I want to roll over in the morning and have your body next to mine, I want to shower with you, I… Just think about it. And tell me later.”

“Brian, if you feel this way… If you felt this way, why did you let me go?”

Brian pushed his cheek out with his tongue, and looked away. Justin really did not expect an answer, but he was wrong.

“I’ve never needed anybody. I still don’t. But if you want someone bad enough, want them at work to share your successes, to discover what they’ll do with an idea, want them out on the town because they make dancing more fun, and flirting more fun, want them at home because you crave their body like a drug, and want to start the day with their smile, and if you’re lucky enough that they might want you back… I don’t need you, Justin. Needing people makes you weak.”

Brian looked back at Justin.

“But I want you. I want you so fucking much, every day, in every way. You don’t make me weak. You make me stronger. I didn’t know it until you were gone.”

He leaned forward and placed a tentative kiss on Justin’s lips, as if unsure of his reception. Justin pulled him down again in a brief but searing kiss, and smiled. Brian smiled back.

He lay down flat again and sighed. “Now we have to get up and get out of here or Carl will put out an APB on us, and when we get there, Debbie will kill me.” He looked at Justin across the pillow, and smiled. “They are probably worried about you.” He chuckled. “C’mon. I want to see my son and give him his gifts.“

He kissed Justin softly on the lips again and got up, walking around to retrieve his clothes from wherever they had landed, stopping constantly to grab Justin and kiss him again. Justin laughed and followed him, getting dressed faster because he cared a lot less about how he looked, and loving the kisses.

They had been gone for close to an hour and a half when they made it back to Debbie’s and they had no ice. Since none was needed, it didn’t matter. Dinner was started but somehow there were two seats together saved for them. When they entered, everyone stopped eating to look at them. Seeing the mystified looks on almost everyone’s faces, Brian decided to make a point. He pulled Justin into the kiss to end all kisses and kept at it through the wolf whistles and the clapping until Debbie yelled, “Get a fucking room already, or sit your asses down and eat!”

As they sat down, Gus remarked, “Daddy was kissing Jutsin!” and giggled happily. Justin beamed at Daphne and Brian smirked at everyone, but he didn’t fool them. They could see the way he looked at Justin, hear the laughter in his voice and see the joy radiating from him. A miracle had happened. Brian Kinney was in love.

Mikey finally broke down first and asked, “So… How did you two meet, exactly?” Justin looked at Brian and shrugged. He was staying out of it. These people had been Brian’s friends a lot longer than his.

“Justin was an intern in my firm, in the Art Department.” And he took his next bite. Apparently this was the only explanation he intended to give.

“Did Justin tell you some of his pieces are displayed at my gallery, right now, as part of an upcoming artist series?” Lindsay smiled at Justin. “They are brilliant. They’re all sold already. You should come see them.”

The memory of how much he had wanted Brian to see them flashed in Justin’s mind.

“I will. I own three of his paintings already, two of which I bought before I knew he was the artist, and a third one that he gave me,” and there, Brian looked at Justin and smiled, “… as a Christmas present.”

“Which one is that, Justin?”

“It’s a new one. You haven’t seen it. I’ll show you a picture if you’d like.”

“It’s the best work he’s ever done,” Brian said, and rolled in his lips.

Justin looked at him and smiled in his eyes. “I was inspired.”

“I want to open my presents,” said Gus, bored with the adult conversation.

“And what about dessert?” asked Debbie.

They all groaned.

“Let’s open presents and digest a little, sweetheart. We can eat dessert afterward,” offered Carl.

They all moved into the living room. Justin had never seen so many presents under a tree in his life. He sat on the arm of the sofa and was pleasantly surprised when Brian came to sit behind him, a possessive arm around his body, occasionally kissing his temple. He could see the surprise at such a display of affection from everyone in the room. As usual when Brian held him, he felt as if his whole body was singing and he melted into the embrace.

Emmett got to start distributing his gifts because he was almost as excited as Gus, literally jumping up and down. Though all the gifts he gave out were marked “From Emmett and Drew”, it was obvious he was the one who had shopped for them and wrapped them. From the Shrek video for Gus to the Hermes tie for Brian, his gifts were remarkably tasteful and well chosen. Justin got an amazing book of figure studies by different masters that he hadn’t even known existed, which he was sure cost a fortune. Emmett seemed particularly pleased at his reaction, and smiled widely when Justin thanked him.

Hunter was next. His gifts were small, like a busboy’s budget, but right on and funny. Justin loved his T-shirt. It said ”Speak slowly, I’m blond and brain damaged.”

Michael and Ben had gotten books for everyone. Justin received an English translation of 16th century Haikus. He was a little surprised by the unusual gift, until Ben explained that his paintings had reminded him of the Japanese poems, perfect in their timelessness and beauty. Justin was really touched.

Daphne’s turn came. Her gifts were eclectic and well received. She even had something for Brian, though she had never met him. She had had a mug made with a picture of Gus on it, thinking that would be a good gift for Gus’s dad. Though it was awfully kitschy, and Justin wasn’t sure it would see much use, Brian smiled at her, and she blushed, to Justin’s amusement. She was obviously not impervious to the Kinney charm.

She had gotten Justin some really nice Calvin Klein boxers and commented that for someone with such a nice ass, he had the worst underwear. It was Justin’s turn to blush, especially when Brian whispered in his ear that his ass tasted even better than it looked.

“Since you’re up, why don’t you give mine out?” said Justin. He was way too comfortable to move. She rolled her eyes but complied, distributing the pile of same shaped gifts to everyone in the room. They each got a drawing of the one they loved, that Justin had drawn from memory. He was rightfully proud of them. With his stupid hand the way it was, they represented many hours of work, and he felt he had managed to capture everyone’s essence.

He was particularly pleased with his portrait of Ted, with the humorous glint in his eye and his smirk. Considering how Blake smiled at him, he thought he’d been right to feel that way. The only one that was from a photograph was the portrait of Drew, since Justin had never met him until tonight. It was from one of his underwear ads.

Gus got a portrait of “Red legs”, the stuffed monkey he slept with and was over the moon. When Daphne handed Brian a package, he looked at Justin in surprise. Justin shook his head.

“That’s not from me,” he said.

“It’s from us,” said Lindsay. “Go ahead, open it.”

It was one of the sketches Justin had made of Gus at Thanksgiving, matted and framed in similar fashion as all the portraits Justin had given out that night.

“Justin drew this at Thanksgiving, and we thought you would like it.”

Brian smiled at Lindsay. “I do. It’s gorgeous, thank you.” Justin looked at him and smiled and Brian leaned toward him and took his lips in a kiss. Justin pulled out of it when he felt the usual arousal start to take hold of him. This was definitely neither the place nor the time for that.

“Daddy, you really like ‘Jutsin’, don’t you,” said Gus, smiling. “You keep kissing him!”

“Yes, sonny boy. I really do.”

“Me too,” said Gus, and he climbed on Justin’s lap.

He didn’t stay long, however, because his mothers were giving out their gifts and there were three, just for him. Justin got a beautiful cashmere hand knitted scarf in a blue that matched his eyes. He loved it. Brian passed him the card that had accompanied Gus’s portrait.

Brian,
Justin Taylor, the young man you may have met tonight, made this portrait of Gus at Thanksgiving. He goes to Pratt, and as you can see is extremely talented. He works as a busboy to make ends meet. I think his talents could be better utilized, don’t you? Why don’t you offer him a job? Surely you could use someone like him in your Art Department?
Love, and happy Christmas.
Lindsay , Mel, Gus and JR

Lindsay had noticed Justin reading her note.

“I had no idea, obviously, that you already worked for his firm!”

“Thanks for the recommendation, though. That was really sweet of you,” said Justin.

“Believe me, if I could, I’d hire him in a heartbeat, but Plexus has a very strict policy about fraternization with employees.”

“I thought you guys started seeing each other when he was an intern,” said Michael.

“We got to know each other. But nothing happened until the internship was over. The whole Art Department wants him back, but…”

“But I want Brian more than I want the job.” Justin smiled and kissed Brian lightly on the lips.

“Surely the policy doesn’t apply if you are in a relationship together already at the time of hiring,” said Ted. “There is no possibility of coercion in that case. What do you think, Mel?”

“You are right. Previously existing relationships would be exempt. But you’d have to admit to a relationship.” She smirked, certain that was an insurmountable hurdle for Brian.

“I am responsible for all new hires in the firm for the next eighteen months. I could be accused of asking for sexual favors in exchange for employment, couldn’t I?” asked Brian, not addressing her jibe.

“Not if, as you say, they are clamoring for you to hire him. At worse you might be accused of nepotism. Why don’t you meet with the other principals in your firm and discuss it with them?” suggested Ted.

Brian and Justin exchanged a look. “We can talk it over,” said Justin. He did not say it but thought Mel had a very valid point. “Thanks for the advice, though.”

As she did every year, Debbie had made fudge for everybody, as well as several kinds of Christmas cookies that she gave out in decorative tin boxes.

Then it was Ted and Blake’s turn. Ted was apparently known for giving out the worst presents, so he assured everyone that Blake had chosen all of them this year. Justin got a homemade compilation of Blake’s favorite dance music and Brian got a coffeetable book of Maplethorp photographs. All of them agreed that Blake should definitely always be the one choosing the presents from now on, and Ted took the ribbing laughing, his love for his partner shining on his face.

The only presents left were Brian’s, and Justin was surprised to feel his nervousness before he got up to give them out. Of course he appeared completely relaxed to everyone else.

“Real gifts, Brian? No gift certificates this year?” commented Lindsay.

“I had some time to kill,” answered Brian, “and I thought you could use tasteful gifts instead of the crap you usually pick out for yourselves.”

He started with Gus, giving him a huge pile, as Mel and Lindsay rolled their eyes.

Emmett’s pile was almost as big, though Ted and Blake did only get a card, as did Debbie. By unspoken accord, except for Gus, they all waited until they each had their gifts before opening them. Brian sat on the floor with Gus and ignored them all completely as they unwrapped their presents and exclaimed in pleased surprise. It was obvious they were all really touched by the effort he had put into his choices, but knew better than to make a fuss.

“You are a great influence on Brian, Sunshine,” said Debbie, who was tickled pink with her spa day.

“I had absolutely nothing to do with this,” corrected Justin, “believe me.”

A remote controlled classic Corvette was zooming around the living room and came to bang repeatedly against Justin’s trainer. He looked at Brian, who held the remote, and laughed.

“You had everything to do with it,” said Brian. “You make me appreciate the important things in my life.” He smiled at Justin.

Justin was stunned, as were all the others in the room, at such a telling declaration, until Justin realized it had taken everyone’s attention away from their gifts and put it on him, which had been Brian’s goal. Now Brian could get up and he rejoined Justin on the sofa’s arm, pulling him against his body again, without having to worry about anyone expressing embarrassing thanks.

Gus was last to give out his gifts. They were all crayon drawings, mostly of dinosaurs and of his sister, except for a self-portrait for Brian, “’Cause you don’t get to see me often.” He climbed back on Justin’s lap and said, “It’s neat we both gave them drawings. Now they have two each.”

“Yours are prettier, though,” said Justin. “They’re in color.”

“I can loan you my crayons next time,” answered Gus, patting his hand consolingly. “Or Mama can give you some of hers. She has heaps.”

Justin hugged the little boy tight and Brian put his arms around the both of them.

The mountain of detritus on the floor was impressive. Hunter brought a black garbage bag, and Daphne helped him pick up all the papers and bows, until they started to throw balled up paper at each other and were joined in the battle by Blake and Ben. All the others beat a quick retreat into the dining room, letting them have their fun.

Gus had traded Justin’s lap for his dad’s and was asleep in minutes, his head tucked under Brian’s chin. There was coffee and tea, and a lot of desserts including meringue, entirely beaten by hand. Sitting there, surrounded with people who loved each other, was a wonderful feeling. Brian’s hand resting on Justin's thigh was like a gift in and of itself.

Drew waited until the battle was over and the combatants had rejoined their ranks to announce that all of them were invited to Massachusetts, on Valentine’s Day, to witness Emmett and his wedding. Their was whooping, congratulations, and hugs. Emmett’s smile was huge. He had told Justin and Daphne how he had let Drew go, after he came out, never thinking Drew would come back to him.

But he’d been wrong. It had only taken Drew a little bit over a year to sow his wild oats and return to the man he loved. Drew mentioned he was hoping the wedding would happen under the radar, because he didn’t want a ton of paparazzi ruining the ceremony. He was planning on dropping the bomb at a press conference a few days later.

Finally it was time for the traditional removal of the party to Babylon. Even the lesbians were going, leaving the children with Grandma and Grandpa.

As they were leaving, Daphne smiled at Justin and whispered, “See you tomorrow.”

She was right. Once seated in the Corvette, Brian turned to Justin. “Babylon, or the hotel?”

Justin grinned and Brian grinned back. They didn’t go dancing.

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