In His Kiss

Chapter 7

Justin kicks ass.


Justin couldn’t believe it was already November. He had learned a ton, had done a lot of different jobs, and really liked the Art Department’s team. They were a serious, dedicated bunch, extremely good at what they did.

After the ‘Orange is the new blue’ episode, people sometimes came and ran things by him, and intimidated at first, he had learned to honestly give his opinion. They all seemed to agree he had a good eye, and just took advantage of it.

At the end of a busy week, Sam, his direct boss, came over to his desk.

“Hey, Justin.”

“Sam.”

“I have something a little bit more fun for you to start on this afternoon. Kinney just got a new account, ‘Body by Design’. Heard of them?

“Yes. Upscale gyms, right?”

“Right. Their image is five years old, it needs revamping. We’re going to present a few ideas to Brian on Thursday, to give him something to go on, and he will choose which direction he wants to go with it. So you can go ahead and get started with that. Here are their stats, and the target profile. Remember, this is just a prelim, so don’t kill yourself. It’s just a chance to use a little creativity.”

This was something Justin could really get into. Just as he had done for Essengy, he pulled up his computer program and went to work. He had missed using his creative side, and worked happily for the next few hours, totally absorbed. It was cool to use some of the things he’d learn since joining Plexus to help direct his natural creativity: Keeping the target customer in mind, making sure the client’s product was unmistakably bound into the design. He couldn’t believe it when Julie broke through his concentration by rapping her knuckle on the side of his head. They were the last two people there.

“Earth to Justin! Time to go! It’s the weekend! Get out of here!”

“Oh. I got involved in something.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What time is it?”

“A quarter to nine, you weirdo. They pay me a lot of money for this job, which is why I’m still here. You’re an intern. You hardly get enough for subway tokens. So what’s you excuse?”

He laughed. “Stupidity?”

She waited for him as he packed up, and they took the elevator down together.

“Where do you live?” she asked as she flagged down a cab.

“Brooklyn.”

She shrugged. “No luck. I’m in Harlem. See you Monday.”

“See you!”

He went home, and after eating his reheated dinner and cleaning the kitchen, he felt too worn out to go out. Instead, he showered and went to bed.

***

Lilah had reserved some studio time for them all weekend, and he happily went, doing prep work on canvases, and enjoying feeling part of the school again. He and Lilah went out to Essengy on Saturday and an early movie on Sunday night. Monday came awfully fast.

When he got to work, he remembered his new project, and actually felt excited he had something fun to work on. Sam had asked for several different ideas. The one he had finished on Friday was all about health. He looked back at it, tweaked a few things and called it good.

He knew these mock-ups were for Brian, so he decided to make the next one all about sex. Because, after all, gay men did not go to the gym for their health. They went to the gym to look good, so they would get laid. It was a much stronger motivator than the possible decrease of your risk of heart attacks…

This ad would say, “Go to the ‘Body by Design’ gym. You will fuck more often, fuck better, fuck longer, and at the end, come harder than ever before.” He kept Brian in mind throughout the whole design, laughing to himself as he incorporated a little single mindedness and desperation.

After all, the target client was 25 to 34, and any club boy over thirty started feeling a little desperate. At the end he switched the whole thing to black and white. Now the bruises on the hips and the love bites he had digitally added to the model’s perfect skin were almost subliminal. You mostly saw the lean but muscular back of a guy working out, and couldn’t really tell why it was so evocative of sex.

With the higher contrast, the face of the other man in the picture, who was cruising the guy whose back was the main focus, became blurry with motion and light. If you looked straight at it, you couldn’t tell what it was. But you could tell from the corner of your eye when you were not focusing on it.

It was perfect. And completely devious. Justin wondered if anyone would notice and call him on it. Probably not. The trap was set for gay men. Straight men and women might notice some things, but would not understand their significance.

The next campaign, he designed around the idea of play. You get in shape through play, to play. It was an easy theme, already built in all our psyches by professional sports. A vague image of team sport in the background of the design set the tone for the whole thing.

Finally, the last message he started working on was working out as a way to improve one’s looks, or preserve one’s looks forever. It would mostly be female oriented, because the desire to remain young was so much more engrained in the female psyche, though, sadly, gay men were not far behind.

By quitting time, he was in the midst of working the last campaign when Sam came over and looked over his shoulder.

“Wow, Justin, this is beautiful. I told you it didn’t have to be a finished product, right? This is just the prelim.”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that. With this program, if you can think it, you can do it, so you can’t really do it halfway, you know?”

He reopened the other files. “You want to see the other ones?”

“What other ones?”

“Well, you said a few ideas, so I’m working on the fourth.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry Justin. I didn’t mean for you to do more than one! Usually, I do one, and Randy does one, and Julie does one. I was about to start on mine. I gave you a little more time since this was your first.”

“Oh. Sorry. Well, do you want to see them or not?”

“Sure. Show me what you got.”

Justin opened the one he thought of as ‘Work out for your health’ one.

Sam just stared. Then he called out. “Randy, Jules, come look at this!”

Justin showed them all three finished products, and the one he was still working on. Soon they were asking questions, making suggestions, pointing out areas that could be improved. It was like cooperating with Chaz all over again, except that these guys were very sharp professionals, and had years of experience in the field.

Julie loved the ‘Workout Means More Sex’ one. She found two of what Justin considered his triggers to sexual association, but missed the bruised hips. He had been right. Straight people would not know their significance. She pointed out to the others the love bites, the impression of the cruising guy. Justin pointed out the bruised hips and flushed a little explaining those to her, as she looked at him speculatively.

Sam caught on, and wondered if a slight abrasion on the wrists would play in the theme. Justin added it digitally; blurring it until you had to know it was there. They were all laughing. Randy, who was usually quite reserved asked about fingernail marks on the shoulders. That was good, because it would trap heteros as well.

Sam suggested some slight color modifications to the ‘Workout to Play’ campaign and the health campaign, and they all helped Justin with the completion of the beauty campaign.

By the time they were completely finished, it was almost two in the morning. Justin had been working on the designs since nine in the morning. They had hardly taken a break, and had all neglected everything else they had been doing, but the results were fabulous, they had completely bonded as a team, and they were high on life. Justin had learned more in one day than in a couple quarters at school.

Sam wanted to give Justin the lion share of the credit, but Justin wouldn’t hear of it. He explained as best he could without going into details that Brian and he knew each other from previous association and had a rather conflicted relationship. It would be better to downplay his role. A LOT.

Sam eventually agreed, but promised himself that at some point, when it would make no difference to the campaigns, credit would be given where credit was due.

Justin was thrilled when Sam gave him the next day off to recuperate. That way he would not even be in the building when Sam presented their work to Brian, two days before the prelims were due, and the entire thing actually completed.

He went home and slept the sleep of the just. He woke up at one in the afternoon, and hung out with Lilah. That evening, he went to Essengy, and danced for three hours straight. Before heading home, he went to one of the alcoves in the VIP room with a guy who looked like he spent a bit too much time working out, and maybe used steroids.

He had offered Justin a blowjob, which happened surprisingly often. He insisted on sitting Justin on one of the couches, something Justin avoided, not wanted to think about what the covers would look like in daylight. His companion seemed to sense his hesitation, and very kindly lined the upholstery with clean come towels before Justin sat down.

Then he proceeded to make love to Justin’s cock in a way he had almost forgotten could happen, so used had he become to back room encounters. The blowjob must have taken forty-five minutes, and Justin’s whole body was singing at the end.

He felt horribly guilty that the entire time he had fantasized about Brian, but muscle man looked quite happy, and ruffled Justin’s hair before walking off. He had not jerked off, and did not appear to be hard, which confirmed Justin’s suspicions of steroid use. Aside from incredibly pleasurable, the encounter had been very sweet.

***

The next day, in the Art Department, the buzz was all about Brian’s reaction to the four “Body by Design” campaigns. He had been gratifyingly impressed. Sam thought he could sell the client all four, which Justin really doubted. Sam showed him the couple of modifications Brian had requested, and Justin could not help but be annoyed that they did indeed make their hard work even better. Sam pointed out that there was a reason Brian pulled in a seven-figure salary.

“Seven-figure, as in, over a million a year?” asked Justin in complete disbelief.

“Yeah. Probably closer to two actually. He handles some of the biggest accounts. Brown Athletics brings in two million in profit alone.”

“What do you do with that much money?”

“I’m sure I could find something to spend it on,” quipped Sam. “I think Brian paid over four million for his loft last year. And did you see the new gorgeous painting in his office? I bet that’s worth a couple hundred thousand right there.”

Justin burst out laughing.

“Sorry to disappoint you Sam, but that set him back a whooping seventeen hundred dollars, of which the artist only received twelve hundred once the gallery took its share.“

“How do you know?”

“It’s one of mine.”

Sam just stared at him for a moment.

“Why the hell are you wasting your time working here with talent like that? You should be painting.”

“A boy’s gotta eat, Sam. Twelve hundred dollars don’t go as far as they used to…”

“Are you working on anything now?”

“Nah. Not since I started working here. But I need this for my degree.”

“Do you have any finished work?”

“Yes, a few stored at school, and a couple in my apartment. The problem is that I like big canvases, and they are hard to store so most of them are at Pratt.”

“When was the last time you had a show?”

“Eighteen month ago, in a small gallery in Los Angeles. That’s where Brian, sorry, Mr. Kinney got his painting. I bet it cost him more to ship it than to buy it.”

“I’d love to see what you have sometime.”

“Sure. I’d be happy to show you.”

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