In His Kiss

Chapter 33

Blond and brain damaged, but no pushover

It had been the night from hell, though because he was with Daphne the whole time, they still managed to have fun.

After shopping for hours, they had gone back to Daphne’s and had ice cream while they watched It’s a Wonderful Life. Hunter was irrepressible and commented the entire movie, all three of them in stitches. Hunter had a date that night, and Justin and Daphne were going to Daphne’s grandparents for dinner, so they took him home and headed for the country.

It was a forty-five minute drive to her grandparents’ home, and they got there just in time for dinner. The family made the usual jokes about having Justin over. “Chew nice and slow, Justin. We don’t want you choking and us having to explain a dead white boy in our kitchen,” and “Lamont, honey, better throw another cornbread in the oven, that little white boy is here again,” referring to Justin’s first big meal with the family, at age 12 when he had singlehandedly polished off a 9X13 pan of cornbread, which he had thought was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Nehama and Lamont had five children, and had put all of them through college, two of them through graduate school and one through medical school. Three of them were there, with a gaggle of Daphne’s cousins, and they played charades and pool all night.

Daphne’s mom was very light skinned and Daphne had inherited her complexion, but all the others were much darker, and Justin stood out with his luminous skin, so they teased him a lot, from singing “Justin the red nose white boy” to the tune of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer when he arrived because of course the cold made his nose red, to “No, Justin can’t go play in the snow, we’ll lose him, and won’t find him till spring,” However, Aunt Dean had announced, when Justin was about 15, that despite the seemingly overwhelming evidence, it was obvious the boy really was black. Who’d ever seen a booty like that on a white man?

They loved to debate, about politics, current events, whatever, and if you were not used to the ways of the house, you could have thought the arguments were serious, but they always ended in good humor. They had always accepted him, but somehow, his bashing had really made him one of them.

“Fags, Yids and Niggers. No matter how much they beat us down, they just can’t keep us down,” had been Uncle Reggie’s comment to him, while he had been in the hospital. He was president of Lincoln University, in Missouri, the first black college west of the Mississippi and as a child had marched with Daphne’s grandpa and Martin Luther King.

They had left the family gathering later than planned, around 11:00, and had been singing to the radio when the tire blew. Luckily, Daphne was a good driver, and after skidding, slipping and sliding, they had made it safely to the side of the road. She had AAA and had called on her cell phone, but had been cut off as she ran out of batteries. Justin’s cell was plugged in under her bed. Not helpful at all.

They had gotten out her flashlight and the manual, and had decided to try and change the tire themselves. They had had to transfer all the presents they had received the past two days that were still in her trunk to the back seat just to reach the spare.

Which was flat. Oops.

They figured they were fifteen miles from Nehama’s and Lamont’s, and five from the closest gas station in the other direction, though neither of them could remember if it had been open when they had passed it earlier in the night. It was really, really cold, so they piled on every piece of clothing in the car, locked it, and started walking. The road was completely deserted. When they got to the station, it was pitch dark. It was 12:40.

They stood there shivering for a while, wondering what to do next, when Daphne had the brilliant idea to try the door. It was open, but the alarm went off, loud enough to wake the dead. Through the din, she found the phone and called AAA and then both the owner of the station and a police car pulled up.

Because they were perfectly sober and looked half frozen, their story was believed. The station owner did not file a complaint for breaking and entering, though apparently one of his employees, who had left the door open, was going to catch hell. The cop gave them a ride back to their car and, being twice Justin’s size, even took the blown tire off. When AAA arrived, they put air back into the spare, making sure it was all right otherwise, and Justin and Daphne were finally on their way, with a police escort all the way back to Pittsburgh.

They walked into Babylon a little before 2:00. Emmett and Drew were still there, dancing, and Daphne joined them right away. Justin wanted to have a drink of water and find Brian, whom Emmett had mentioned was impatiently waiting for him. He was just finishing his drink when Brandon came out of the back room, immediately followed by Brian.

They both saw him at the same time, and both got the same exact look on their faces, a look that said that they wished really badly they had just waited another half hour for the person they really wanted to finally show up. There was something else on Brian’s face though, but Justin suddenly felt way too tired to try to decipher what it was, to try to understand him. Well, it was obvious that they needed to talk, but now was neither the time nor the place. He turned his back on the both of them and joined Daphne on the dance floor.

“Daph, give me your house keys, please. I need to go home.”

She looked over his shoulder, to see the two hottest guys in Babylon both looking forlorn and she had an inkling of what may have happened.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

She gave Emmett a kiss and not fifteen minutes after walking in, they were walking back out.

They arrived at the apartment and changed quietly into their nightclothes. By the time he was done brushing and flossing, Justin felt like a complete zombie and he fell asleep the second his head touched the pillow.

He woke up in the morning when Daphne came back to bed with two huge cups of coffee, both with milk and sugar, the way they both drank it. He sat up and drank half of his before sighing and looking at her with a smile.

“So, the first thing you need to do is call Brandon,” she said.

“Huh?” Justin was still a little bit in a fog, and wasn’t sure how that made sense.

“He thinks you were pissed at him, last night, which is giving him the wrong impression. So just call him first and clear the air. No point in giving him false hope.”

“Oh. OK.”

He reached under the bed and retrieved his cell. One call from Brandon, a half hour ago, no message. Three from that other phone number with the Pittsburgh prefix, which he now strongly suspected was Brian’s. One yesterday at 10:00PM, no message, one last night at 2:30AM, another at 2:35, both with messages.

He dialed Brandon.

“Justin.”

“Hey, Brandon.”

“I’m so sorry about last night. All your friends were there, and I waited to see if you’d show up, but you hadn’t the night before… It was really late, and this guy was hot, and frankly, I didn’t think you’d care. But you looked so upset, and you just… left, and now I’m… really confused.”

“Brandon, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. It’s not you I was upset with. That hot guy…the one you came out of the backroom with. He…”

“Fuck. Brian Kinney. He’s the guy you’re in love with. The reason you’re not available.”

“Right.”

“What a fucking idiot.”

“Gee… Thanks!”

“Not you! Him. He knew you were coming, right? And instead of waiting for you, he came to the back room with me for a stupid hand job, and then fucked some trick against the wall? What a fool.”

“We were really late. And he and I never said anything about… not fucking other people. I was just really tired. I didn’t handle it well.”

“Right. When I thought you looked like that on my account, I… Well, let’s just say that if you felt like that about me, I’d never fuck another trick again. I… You… You are really special, Justin. You deserve… you deserve whatever you want. Brian Kinney is a beautiful fucker, to be sure, but listen. If he has you and still fucks around, he’s a complete fool. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re worth so much more than that. I’m not talking about me. I know you can’t help who you fall for. But he’s the lucky one. Don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

“Uh…Thanks, Brandon.”

“You and I are never going to fuck again, are we.”

“Probably not.”

“Are you with Daphne?”

“Yes.”

“Can you put her on for a minute?”

Justin handed Daphne the phone.

“Hi, Brandon.”

Justin drank the rest of his coffee, watching her face, as Brandon talked to her for at least five minutes without a break, except for her saying “Uhuh”, “Yeah”, “Yep”, “Right”.

Then she smiled and said, “I’ve never been. Tonight sounds great. I’ll see you then. Bye.”

She looked at Justin, shaking her head. “That boy needs a friend,” she said.

“And you are the best friend a queer could have, Daph.”

She looked at him. “I’ll always love you best,” she joked.

He smiled. “I’m not worried.”

She cozied down on the pillows. “So… Brian.”

“Yes. Brian.”

“He really is gorgeous. Just like you said.”

“I know.”

“And he fell for you, just like I said.”

“Yes. I guess so.”

“But. You’re three hours late and he fucks someone else?”

“Yep. He called after we left. Left messages.”

Justin dialed his mailbox. He listened to the 2:30 message.

“Justin, what’s the point of having a cell phone if you never turn it on? I’m glad you’re OK. I was getting worried. What happened to you? Unless I hear from you, I’m coming to pick you up at Daphne’s tomorrow for lunch. Later.”

And then to the 2:35 one.

“Justin… I wish you were here. I know why you’re not… and I really wish you were.”

Justin passed the phone to Daphne so she could hear them too.

“Was that second one his idea of an apology?”

“Well, it was as much of an apology as I’m likely to get. And why should he apologize? He never said he would not fuck other people, Daphne. There was never any expectation of exclusivity. I was tired. I just couldn’t handle it last night. I think he and I need to talk, so I know what the boundaries are, so I know what to expect.”

“Don’t you think you are entitled to some kind of commitment on his part?”

“No. I don’t. I’m not his boyfriend. I’m the guy he fucked more than once, and wants to go on fucking. That’s what he offered, Daphne, what I agreed to. Nothing more.”

“He sure acted as if you were his boyfriend at Debbie’s.”

“Regardless of how he acts, we both know what was said. And basically that was ‘I am who I am, I think you know what you can expect from me, take it or leave it.’ And I took it.”

“Well, gee. I think you do need to talk, because what the hell did that mean?”

“I understood it to mean that he fucks around, that I know that’s who he is, and I can accept it and have him in my life, or not, and do without him.”

“I’m really surprised, Justin. Why would you accept to be taken so much for granted? Why would you agree to such a one sided deal?”

“It’s not one sided because I can fuck whoever I want as well, I guess. Because he gives me so much more than one would think from that. He shows me in so many ways that he cares about me, even if he doesn’t say it. I had the sweet words of love and all the promises I wanted from Ethan, and what did that get me?

“Brian doesn’t lie to me. He sits with me when I’m sick, he goes out of his way to give me a ride home at night, he totally gets my paintings and he makes love to me, like no one else ever has, or ever will. And I love him.”

“He loves you too, Justin. Did you notice how quickly he freed himself from everyone to follow you to the kitchen at Debbie’s? He spent three minutes with his lifelong friends, and drove away with you for almost two hours. My guess is he realized that ‘Business as usual’, fucking a new guy every night after you were gone had totally lost its appeal, and that he missed you like crazy.”

Daphne sat up and grabbed his hand. “So letting you think it’s a big sacrifice for him to break his golden rule and fuck you more than once? That is complete bullshit. He wants this as much as you do, Justin. Maybe more. I think you need to give him some ‘Take it or leave it’ of your own. Or that feeling you had last night, when you saw him coming out of the back room? That feeling that was written all over your face? It’s going to be part of your life everyday and no matter how much you love him, that feeling is eventually going to take over and turn you into someone you’re not.”

Justin needed to think. His first reaction to both Brandon and Daphne’s words was that they did not know what they were talking about, that they did not know Brian. But Daphne knew him. She had known him since kindergarten. Her advice had always been spot on.

“I’m going to go shower,” he said. “Brian is probably going to show up pretty soon.”

She kissed his cheek. “Wear your new clothes and have him take you somewhere on Liberty Avenue. Just so he remembers how lucky he is.”

“I love it when you get all Machiavellian.”

“Someone’s got to be. Sometimes, you’re like a babe in the woods, I swear to God.”

After soaping up, shampooing and rinsing off, he got the shower as hot as he could stand and just stood there, his hands on his knees, letting it beat on his back. Daphne was right. He didn’t want to feel that way, the way he had felt at Essengy when Brian had walked out of the lounge, or the way he felt last night when Brian came out of the backroom.

A hand job from Brandon, and if that wasn’t enough, a fuck against the wall with some random trick, knowing the entire time Justin was on his way. In both cases, that was what bothered him. Not that he fucked someone, but that he chose to do it when he knew Justin was around, wanting him, loving him.

It was a statement. ‘You mean less to me than my God given right to fuck anyone I want, anytime I want; your feelings don’t matter to me.’ Justin did not want to be treated this way. That Brian might need or want to continue to fuck other people, he could live with.

But if he didn’t care enough for Justin to treat him with kindness and to respect his feelings, then no matter how much Justin loved him, it wasn’t worth it. All the pleasure Brian could give him was not worth his self-respect.

When they had made love yesterday morning, when Justin had felt so overwhelmed by his love for Brian, Brian had kissed him, and had said that he felt the same way.

He had kissed him passionately, in front of all of his friends, and again in front of his own son, declaring a relationship between them.

It was too confusing. They had to talk. Justin couldn’t continue this guessing game.

He got out of the shower and took particular care of his appearance, blow drying his hair, using mousse, and putting on his undertaker outfit. The low cut jeans were awfully flattering, and the silk T-shirt did show his torso to its best advantage.

When the doorbell rang, Justin felt pretty good about the way he looked. When he opened the door to let Brian in while he collected his coat and scarf (the cashmere one that matched his eyes), he felt Brian's admiring gaze the entire time and knew he looked really hot.

He was glad he’d had time to think. His smile to Brian was genuinely happy and he truly was glad to see him. When right before they left, Brian pulled him in for a kiss, it was their kiss and it felt so good.

“Justin?” Daphne interrupted.

“Hello, Daphne,” said Brian.

“Hi, Brian. Justin, here is the key to the apartment. I have a date tonight. I’m going to ‘The Nutcracker’. I don’t know what time I’ll be home, so you can just let yourself in, OK?”

“Thanks.”

“Do you have your cell phone?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Well, what’s the point having a cell phone if you leave it charging under my bed all the time? See you later.” She gave Justin a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye, Daphne,” said Brian.

“Bye, Brian.”

***

Justin loved the smell of the inside of the ‘Vette. Leather and Brian. It was a really cool car.

“Are you hungry, Justin?”

“Starving. I haven’t had any breakfast.”

“The diner or something fancier?”

“Don’t care. Just feed me.”

“The diner it is.”

Justin had thought they were getting together to talk, but Brian’s choice of the diner kind of negated that happening right away. Ted and Blake were there having lunch, and they sat with them.

“What happened to you guys last night? Did you ever make it to Babylon?” Blake asked Justin.

“Our tire blew up in the middle of nowhere around 11:30, coming back from dinner at Daphne’s grandparents. Her spare was flat, so we walked five miles to the gas station. It was closed, but the door was open and Daph called AAA. But by the time we explained to the cop, who showed up after we triggered the alarm, that we were upstanding citizens, and by the time the spare was filled and put on, we didn't make it to Babylon till a quarter of 2:00. We froze our asses off.”

“Don’t you guys have cell phones?” asked Ted.

“Daphne’s was out of batteries, and mine was charging, under her bed.”

“What’s the point of having a cell phone…?” started Ted.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Look. I have it. It’s charged and it’s on, OK?”

Blake laughed. “I get the same lecture all the time. I have it on vibrate, so it doesn’t interrupt my sessions, but then I leave it in my jacket pocket, so it’s completely useless.”

“I mostly use mine for the alarm feature,” admitted Justin.

“Not anymore, Sunshine. Welcome to the 21st century. It’s a phone. I call you on it. Time to actually use it.”

“Do I detect some tension there, Brian? Were you worried about little Justin and his beloved hag last night?” teased Ted.

“Nothing that a hand job and a quick fuck in the back room couldn’t cure,” said Justin, smiling to purposefully lead Ted and Blake to believe he was talking about Brian and himself. He could have sworn he saw Brian flinch.

“Ah, yes, make up sex. The next best thing to angry sex,” said Ted.

“Too much information, Ted,” said Brian.

The waiter finally arrived to take their order. Justin was starving. Looking at the menu, he ordered a double cheeseburger with bacon, a chocolate shake and apple pie. Brian ordered coffee. Did the man ever eat?

“Do you want regular fries or curly fries?” asked the waiter. Justin finally looked at him. Wow. He was hot.

“Curly.”

“Yeah. I like those better too,” said the waiter. He smiled a seriously ‘come hither’ smile at Justin. “Would you like… anything else?”

“Maybe later,” answered Justin. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” said the waiter walking away, looking back at him over his shoulder.

“Justin, I think he likes you,” stage-whispered Ted.

Justin laughed. “Nah, you think?”

His food arrived awfully fast and whatever the reason for that was, he was very grateful. His portion of fries was huge. He pushed it towards Brian. “Help me out, here.” Brian complied, burying his fries in ketchup. He also put at least a tablespoon of sugar in his coffee. The man had a serious sweet tooth.

The waiter came back twice to make sure Justin had everything he needed.

“We’re doing great, too,” said Ted. “Thanks for caring.” Blake and Justin cracked up.

“Why the serious face, Brian? Not enjoying the hot waiter hitting on your boyfriend?” inquired Ted.

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Brian with a smile.

“And I’m not his boyfriend,” corrected Justin. “I’m the guy he fucks more than once.” Was that another flinch?

“Oh, good!” said Ted. “Then the waiter has a chance!”

“None whatsoever,” said Justin.

Just then, a tall guy leaving the diner stopped and slipped a piece of paper under Justin’s plate.

“Call me,” he said, walking away.

“When it rains, it pours,” quipped Ted.

Justin retrieved the paper from under his plate.

“Slade? What kind of a weird ass name is ‘Slade’?”

“Oh, look, he gave you all the relevant info: HIV- and 9 1/2 inches. How thoughtful!” said Ted, reading over his shoulder.

Brian grabbed the paper and tore it into confetti. “He’s a lying shit. I had him, and he is 8 inches if he’s lucky. And he had zits on his ass. All done, Justin? We’ve got places to be.”

He got up, threw a 20 on the table, and walked away. Justin got up to follow, turned back to make a funny face at the guys behind Brian’s back and said, “Oops, time to go, bye!” Ted and Blake cracked up.

Back in the ‘Vette, Brian did not start it up right away. He sat there, his lips rolled in for a while. “We need to talk,” he said, finally.

“Yes, we do,” agreed Justin.

“Let’s go to the hotel.“

“Oh, I’m sorry, I misheard you. I thought you said ‘we need to talk’, not ‘we need to fuck’.”

“We can talk in the sitting room in my suite.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. No doubt… Actually, you know what? It might not be a bad idea. We can fuck first and talk later. It might make it easier.”

Brian, unused to such a flippant Justin, was looking at him probably trying to ascertain if he was serious. There was something else on his face that Justin couldn’t read. Justin decided to stop acting so juvenile. He briefly caressed the side of Brian’s face, thinking about what he really wanted.

“Brian, please take me to the hotel and make love to me,” he said seriously. “I need you inside me. I want you inside me. I’m confused, and I don’t know what to think. Maybe with your arms around me, things will make sense again, and then we can talk.”

Brian leaned over and put a kiss on his lips, running the tip of his tongue between them until Justin opened his mouth to let him in. The kiss was soft and gentle and felt so, so sweet.

Brian sat back again, started the car and drove them to the hotel.
 

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