Spin and Fall

Chapter 12

“I love your house,” said Justin, as if their tardiness was due to Brian giving him a tour.

“Thank you,” said Lindz, who was getting something colorful out of the oven. “We do too.”

Mel, who was opening a bottle of wine, grinned at them, evidently not fooled for a second.

They sat down, Gus between Brian and Justin, a good thing in Justin’s opinion, considering…

Lindz, the perfect hostess, said, “This is zucchini lasagna, with low fat ricotta and mozzarella, and spinach salad with pears and cashews. I hope it’s all right, Brian said you were allergic to a few things.”

“Peanuts, peppers, pickles, prawns and prunes,” recited Justin. “Well, actually, only some pickled vegetables and fish, not regular pickles, but absolutely all shellfish. It’s just a mnemonic device.”

“Do you know what a mnemonic device is?” Brian asked Gus.

“No,” said Gus, shaking his head.

“It’s a way to say things that helps you remember them. Do you notice anything about Justin’s list?”

“Peanuts, peppers, pickles, prawns and prunes,” recited Gus. “It’s real easy to remember.” He thought for a moment, and said triumphantly. “It all starts with puh.”

“Good job, Gus,” said Mel.

“Gus has a great memory,” said Lindz as Brian taught Gus how to say mnemonic and Mel gave him the example of the mnemonic for the Great Lakes. Lindz added, smiling proudly, “He goes to a great preschool and he’ll be starting kindergarten this fall…”

The food was actually delicious. They all went to the park after lunch. Brian had warned Justin that his weekends in Toronto were all about the kids, and they obviously were. Justin was happy to spend time with Mel as Lindz monopolized Brian’s conversation the entire time. Only when he played soccer with his son did she give it a rest, cheering them both from the side. Her long, tight straight skirt and high-heeled boots did not lend themselves to running around very well.

JR just wanted to be in the swing. She giggled like mad trying to catch Justin’s striped scarf. He held it up, and snatched it away from the tips of her fingers, letting her catch it about once out of four times. Then she wanted her mom to push her higher and higher, and squealed in terrified delight. She was adorable, really.

“That was a little high, wasn’t it?” said Lindz when they switched. Mel just rolled her eyes at her, grinning. In her jeans and running shoes, Mel had no problem playing ball with her son. She was a force to be reckoned with, and it took all of Gus and Justin’s very limited skills to not let her have the run of the made-up field. For some reason, her idea of soccer included tackling and tickling her son, which Gus totally loved. He especially loved it when he and Justin ganged up on her and got her back.

They walked back home with JR on Brian’s shoulders and Gus on Justin’s, Lindz pushing the empty stroller. JR fell asleep in her high chair during snack time, and Gus on top of Brian as soon as he started reading him “No Dogs Allowed.” Brian put the book down and smiled at Justin. The girls were preparing tea in the kitchen. Brian beckoned Justin to his side and pulled him closer with his free arm. He put his hand behind Justin’s neck and pulled him in for a long, “This is all we can do right now, but I’ll get you later” kind of kiss.

“You can’t play soccer for shit, Justin.”

“Team sports, my Achilles’ heel…”

“You totally make it up on the one-on-one kind of sports…” That was so cheesy, they just had to laugh and kiss again.

“Hum, hum…” said Lindz coming in with a tray.

Mel was catching up on work. The conversation between Lindz and Brian was mostly reminiscences about people Justin didn’t know. Brian’s arm rested on the back of the couch behind Justin, squeezing his shoulder in apology a couple of times, but Justin was enjoying the moment, the sound of their soft voices. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Brian played gently with his hair. It was very, very pleasant. Soon, Lindz was saying, “Hum, looks like both your children are asleep…”

Oh! Ah, ah. Justin grinned internally. Lindsay was thirty-four or thirty-five. On days like today, when he himself had to admit he looked particularly young - sixteen, possibly seventeen - he could have introduced her as his mother and people would have believed it. He guessed she hadn’t thought of that… Justin was pretty sure Brian knew he was still awake, though he only said, “Justin is twenty-three; he’s hardly a child. We were up late last night.”

“Oh, I just bet!” said Lindsay, in a teasing tone.

“We were up late finishing a presentation with a Monday deadline that we would normally have worked on today,” Brian corrected, though in truth, they’d also fucked three times.

“Do you often have to help him like this?” Saccharine. Yes, saccharine. That was the word Justin had been trying to find to qualify Lindz’s tone when talking to him, or apparently, about him.

“Huh? No! No… This is a proposal for the city’s public library. A sort of challenge. All the ad agencies in Pittsburgh are competing for the contract. We decided to not waste our staff’s valuable work hours, but instead to handle it ourselves, on our own time. We work very well together. Lindz, why in the world would you immediately make the assumption that Justin was late with his work?”

“He just seems far too young for such an important position. I thought your infatuation might have influenced your decision to hire him. After all, he is very pretty, but he certainly doesn’t seem to have much to say for himself, does he…” Boy, it was hard to fake sleep when you wanted to burst out laughing. Pretty, but doesn’t have much to say… Not a description of himself Justin had ever heard before.

“You’ve been speaking of our college days nonstop anytime the three of us are together. What could he possibly have to say?” said Brian, evenly.

“Ho.” Lindz let out an intimate giggle that grated on Justin’s nerves. “I guess I’ve missed you. It’s made me remember the old days.”

“Maybe you should reminisce about the old days in the Pitts,” commented Brian. “At least Justin would know the protagonists, and not be so bored that he falls asleep.”

“Which is a bit rude of him, don’t you think?” Lindz squeezed in, in a maternal chastising voice. “Anyway. On some level, I guess I might be trying to remind you of who you really are. Brian! What’s happening to you? Michael and Ben, last time they were here, mentioned you hardly drink anymore, or do drugs. Will you stop tricking next? Completely denying who you are to please your… partner cannot be a healthy foundation for a relationship.”

Justin felt guilt shooting through his blood. Her assumptions may have been wrong, but wasn’t it exactly what Justin had asked? For Brian to deny his true nature as a top?

“Excuse me, but are you saying that my moderating my alcohol and drug consumption is a bad thing? How many years did you criticize my lifestyle, blaming my excesses and my promiscuity for any and all problems you decided I had, trying to “fix” me? Would it bother you so much that someone else might have succeeded where you failed?”

“There is a big difference between a friend trying to help you and a partner making his love conditional! That’s emotional blackmail!”

“A technique you apparently seem very familiar with. Tell me, has it occurred to you that these changes might have predated my meeting Justin, and that they have really nothing to do with him other than the fact that they’ve allowed me to open up to the concept of sharing my life with someone?”

Thinking about the sacrifice Brian was making, Justin had lost the thread of their quiet debate. He paid attention again.

“And of all the men you could have had, you picked… Justin?” Justin could hear her smirk. Was he such an unlikely choice? Since the MT image campaign, Justin had no doubt that he and Brian were incredibly well suited, regardless of what Lindsay thought. And lately, topping his tricks on their nights apart had seemed to satisfy Brian, who appeared to enjoy their sex life fully and had not even hinted at wishing things were different in quite some time.

Brian stopped playing with his hair. Instead, he gently ran the back of two fingers along his cheekbone. When he answered Lindsay, his tone of voice was intimate, loving. Justin realized Brian was speaking to him.

“I chose a man with great intelligence and curiosity, interesting and interested, with a quick wit and a great sense of fun. He has a great appetite for life, a passionate heart and a very strong will. He is a gifted, creative artist and an ideal collaborator, and the most beautiful and sexiest man I’ve ever known. I am amazed everyday that he returns my interest.”

He rested his arm against the back of the couch again, and resumed playing with Justin’s hair. Justin’s heart was beating so hard he was surprised Lindsay couldn’t hear it.

“After having wasted every opportunity you had to get to know him, Lindz, I don’t know where you find the nerve to pass any kind of judgment on him.”

“Dear God, Brian. Don’t be so defensive!” Amazing. The woman was now trying to put the blame for their discord on Brian. Justin wished so much he’d had a chance to get to know her when she didn’t feel threatened, because by now Justin realized that though a woman, and a lesbian, that was exactly why Lindsay was displaying such an unpalatable side of her personality: She was jealous of his relationship with Brian.

She had enough qualities that Brian held her in very high regard, and gave her a son, and that Melanie, whom Justin had grown to really enjoy in a short time, loved her deeply. Surely there was more to her than this hypocritical, manipulating, self-centered bitch…

There was a pause in the conversation. Then Brian said wistfully, “Come on, Wendy, you know you hold a special place in my heart. Why should you be bothered by the fact that I’ve found someone? Why? I’d have thought that you, of all people, would be happy for me, happy for the many positive changes brought about by Justin’s presence in my life.

“Yet, you seem determined to ignore him and belittle him every chance you get. I’ve been really patient and given you the benefit of the doubt, hoping all the insinuations, backhanded compliments and insidious comments you were making about Justin were unintentional. But I think it’s time I made something very clear to you. You are special, yes, and very important to me. You are one of the very, very few females I give a shit about. But do not try to make me choose between Justin and you. You’d lose. I wouldn’t even have to think about it.”

“Brian, I think you are forgetting that you gave up your parental…”

“Lindz! …You may want to think very, very carefully about how you were going to finish that sentence.” Brian’s voice was suddenly so cold; Justin would have sworn the temperature of the room had gone down a couple of degrees. Brian continued, the threat in his voice made somehow clearer by the fact that though icy, his voice was perfectly calm and matter of fact. “Trust me on that.”

Justin heard Lindsay get up and walk out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor between the living room rug and the runner in the corridor. Though he knew Brian wasn’t fooled, Justin kept his eyes closed and his breath even. His feelings were in chaos. From the reminder once again of what Brian gave up to be with him, to the amazing declaration Brian had made in his defense, and to the realization that his presence might be causing a rift between Gus’ natural parents, he didn’t know how to feel, spinning from guilt to love to guilt and back again so quickly he felt dizzy with it. He should never have come.

Once again, Brian caressed the side of Justin’s face with the back of his fingers. He said, “Justin, I am so fucking glad you came. This abscess has needed draining for years, and I’ve never really known how to handle it: Lindz loves her wife. But for years, she has held on to this… fantasy that, though there never was, there might have been something between us if the timing had been right. It has hurt her marriage, poisoned my relationship with Mel, and over time, created this false intimacy between us which I loathe and which little by little has robbed me of the woman I truly considered my closest friend.”

He sighed. “If you have to watch every word you say, for fear it may be heard as an innuendo, or be aware of every move you make, for fear it might be misinterpreted as an advance of some kind, it makes it hard to keep the modicum of openness (which for a long time was as much as I had ever given anyone, save Mikey), that I was able to achieve with her. Now the scab is finally off. I… I would really like to get my friend back. I’ve missed her.”

Maybe because his eyes were closed, or because he was quiet, Justin had heard soft stocking-foot steps enter the room and stop, but Brian hadn’t. He had started to play with Justin’s hair again. “Lindsay is sharp, quick-witted, indomitable in her stance for what’s right, and charismatic. She’s also charming, funny, compassionate, loving, and incredibly loyal. She’s creative and artistic in everything she does. I’m sure you feel the warmth of this house, the peacefulness. That’s Lindsay’s touch. Today’s lunch, colorful and delicious on that lovely table, that harmony, that’s her. She can create that with anything. Not just with cooking, painting, or hanging pictures in a gallery, but with… anything. A bad situation, a dispute between people, a bouquet of flowers. She can bring harmony to everything she touches.”

Brian chortled. “It’s been a long while now, years really, since I allowed myself to remember how much I care for her, appreciate her and… love her because of this… I don’t even know what it is… Not desire, not really fantasy either, this… weird obsession of hers, this yearning for normalcy cultivated by her parents’ constant emotional battering. I was the safest man for her to focus it on, because she knew, she knew with absolute certainty that I never harbored any romantic feelings for her, any physical attraction whatsoever.

“She’s upset right now, of course. But it won’t lasts. She’s too honest for that. I think the separation from her family, her love for Mel, and having to face the truth about us will finally force her to let go, to accept that she is who she is supposed to be, with the person she was meant to be with. And then you’ll see, Justin. She is so lovely…”

There was a sniffing sound behind them, and Justin finally raised his head and opened his eyes as Mel came around the couch, dabbing at her eyes with the bottom of her t-shirt, inadvertently showing off some very nice abs.

“Fuck you, Kinney. You have me tearing up like some little faggot.” She stood in front of them, with a tremulous smile.

“Lindsay came upstairs bawling, so of course I came down to give Brian Fucking Kinney, the insensitive asshole, the self-centered prick, a piece of my mind, and I get down here to witness the most beautiful…Sniff, the most tou- touching… sniff, expression of friendship I have ever heard…Sniff. God, it’s a good thing you’re holding our sleeping son, I might ha-have even hugged you or some sappy shit…”

Justin got up, walked to her with open arms, and gave her a hug. She hugged him back fiercely, laughing, her head in his neck. Justin smiled at Brian, who smiled back. Women. They were so fucking weird. But Justin really liked this one.

When she stepped away from him, Mel was back. “You smell really nice… for a man,” she said to Justin.

He punched her very lightly in the stomach. “You have great abs… for a woman. What kind of workout do you do?”

 

******
 

Gus and JR had woken some time ago, and the three adults had been playing with them all afternoon. Justin was drawing pictures for Gus, or tickling JR. Mel was making her baby fly, the soles of her stocking feet under her tummy and holding on to her hand, or playing building blocks with Gus, and Brian was playing car chase with his son, and some game with a stuffed bear, the squeaky giraffe and a shoehorn with his daughter, the rules of which he never quite got, though JR certainly corrected him often enough…

About an hour after Mel’s appearance, there had been some noises from the kitchen, and now, for the last half an hour or so, the best smells kept wafting in from that direction. Finally, Lindz appeared in the doorway. Brian couldn’t help but smile at the change in her appearance. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, she was wearing jeans and a faded pink Komen Foundation long sleeve t-shirt. She had a kitchen towel over her shoulder, and was in stocking feet. Though he’d not seen her in quite some time, Brian remembered that woman.

She looked at the five of them spread out on the rug, smiled and said, “All the people I love the most in one place at one time. I like it.” And turning to Justin she added, “And just the fact that you have put that glow in Brian’s eyes has already earned you a place in my heart.” She smiled at Brian “Come on everybody! I made a special dinner to welcome Justin into the family!”

They ate in the cozy kitchen, and Brian was glad. The dining room was great, but at lunch they’d hardly gotten a chance to all be together, whereas here, even busy stirring some sauce or other, Lindz got to really participate.

She had taken out candles, and opened a really nice bottle of wine to go with the baked goat cheese and cranberry salad (amazingly, a Gus favorite) and the grilled lamb chops with fresh veggies. The food was fantastic.

Justin had them all laughing, first telling how Brian had not really believed he could play pool and of subsequently wiping the floor with him and then talking about his fabulous assistant’s strange, but somehow endearing, mannerisms. He could imitate Stuart’s intonations and rhythm of speech to perfection, but did so affectionately. He also re-enacted for them his phone call to Brian to convince Stuart that Brian would really let Justin fire him, and Brian’s total lack of improvisational skills.

Apparently he imitated Brian’s speech very well as well, because even the children were clapping and laughing. Then, still pretending to be him, Justin was asking Gus, “What was it Justin can’t eat again? Pizza, poodles, pasta, porridge and pears? What was that pneumatic device?”

“Mnemonic! Daddy, not pneumatic! And it was Peanuts, peppers, pickles, prawns and prunes!” said Gus, giggling.

“Ah! Yes! Pine nuts, paper, pictures, prams and …”

“No! Daddy! Peanuts! Not pine nuts, and not paper!”

“Oh! Peas and nuts?”

And Gus shaking his head. “I give up. It’s hopeless!” apparently so taken by the game he’d forgotten it was not his dad he was talking to. “Just don’t cook, Daddy. It’s safest…”

Which of course had the adults cracking up, making Gus grin proudly, though he wasn’t quite sure why they were laughing.

Dessert was amazing. The chocolate cake was good enough that Brian ate a piece, but it was the decoration that was, well, the icing on the cake.

All their names were written around the periphery, in no special order, separated by a little heart. And in the middle, it said, “Our family, bound by love”, the words in the shape of a heart.

It was sentimental, and definitely lesbianic, but it spoke of harmony and inclusion, and it made Justin smile his sunshine smile and get up to kiss Lindsay on the cheek. So as far as Brian was concerned, it was perfect.

Leaving on Sunday night was even harder than usual. The four adults had formed such an amazing bond. As he had promised himself and told Justin, Brian had not deviated from his normal routine, and there had been no nocturnal visits once the children were asleep. So at least, Brian looked forward to a couple of things that would soon ease the pain of the separation…

Brian went up to Toronto once every six weeks or so, and there was no way Justin would sleep alone every time. Gus would have to learn that Brian and Justin were a couple, just like his moms, but this had not been the appropriate time.

The women were very understanding of Justin and Brian’s desire to keep their relationship under wraps, which Brian was very grateful for. They would let the men decide when to break the news to the family.

They were in flight for all of five minutes when Justin left for the john, and another five minutes before Brian, strangely, also felt the need to hit the loo. Their seats stayed empty for quite some time…

 

*******
 

It was mid August, and Justin was trying to adapt to the summer humidity of Pittsburgh. He’d never quite understood the need for air conditioning before. It really wasn’t that hot, it was just that without it, the sweat issued from your body stayed there instead of evaporating, having zero cooling effect, and a 100% wetting effect.

His linen suits were useless, looking as if he’d slept in them ten minutes after he put them on. Summer wool and cotton was it, worn with silk shirts over cotton undershirts. But silk shirts came in about a million gorgeous colors so it was really fun.

Work was fabulous. His team had come together, rising to his ever-increasing challenges. The ad execs had had to learn to give their instructions in an organized, systematic, detailed way and sent them to him directly. If he felt they were good enough, he would assign the project however he saw fit. If he didn’t, they went back until what they wanted was perfectly clear.

It had created a lot of grumbling. The ad execs liked to do things their way, and choose their artists themselves. Abe in particular had been recalcitrant, sending some stuff directly to Bob or Cathy, who had known to turn it in to Justin, because though he was easy going and super helpful, they knew he expected his directions to be followed to the letter.

After Justin had patiently returned his stuff twice, Abe had gotten a memo along with his next returned art request, to “stop that shit or get another fucking job.” Abe sent it on to Brian, explaining he found both the language offensive and the idea that the Art Director thought he could fire an ad exec laughable. He’d gotten the whole thing back from Brian, with a note in green pen: Abe. Stop that fucking shit or get another goddamned fucking job. . He’d stopped.

Brian had taken on quite a few new projects himself and worked on them with Justin. They were all for companies whose contracts belonged to Vangard. They always had a lot of fun with them. They had designed a kick ass campaign called “The Naked Truth”* for Liberty Air that Brian had sent to his old contact in the firm. Everyone in the commercial, from the CEO to the flight attendants were naked, save for suits and uniforms painted on with body make-up. Liberty Air had dumped Vangard and joined Kinnetik. It had marked the beginning of the hemorrhage…

First, Brian and Justin had gone after Brian’s old clients; it was easier since he still had contacts with most of them. Then they had gone after clients Vangard had gotten since moving into the Pittsburgh market. Finally, they’d attacked on Vangard’s own turf, going for Chicago companies Vangard had served for years.

Brian had gotten an amazing 80% of the old clients he’d contacted to switch, and about 50% of the new Pittsburgh clients they’d gone after to do so also. The first two Chicago companies had remained loyal to Gardner, but the third one, Chicago Meats, a huge conglomerate had, to Brian and Justin’s amazement, loved their “That’s why they invented cholesterol lowering medication” ditty, thinking it totally disarmed the constant attack about red meat by health conscious lobbies. Brian and Justin had made a hilarious commercial with two singing cartoon cows, which had gone national and was ridiculously successful.

Justin was also happier in his private life than he had ever thought possible.

JT and Aidan got together two or three nights a week, talking, fucking, laughing. They rented movies, ate Thai or Chinese, planned their trip to Japan or their next weekend in Toronto.

Perhaps because of his tricking, or maybe because their sexual relationship was so fucking amazing, Brian never seemed dissatisfied anymore. He was extremely dominant in bed, bottoming from the top, sometimes using restraints on Justin, or withholding Justin’s orgasms until Justin actually begged, and often choosing the position of their mating, all of which Justin was happy to go along with. Justin’s body was always marked with love bites, and Brian fucked his mouth on a regular basis, when he would come, saying, “You’re mine, Justin. You’re fucking mine…” Justin had no argument when Brian claimed he was his. He was Brian’s, body and soul…

As a result of Brian being so content, or perhaps because of the medication or both, Justin was no longer plagued by dreams. He didn’t eat a whole lot, finding heavy meals had a hard time staying down despite the Zoloft and the lack of anxious feelings, so he’d lost some weight, but not so anyone would notice…

Except on Saturday nights, they never tricked at the same time. It turned out that Brian needed a lot less sleep than Justin, so Justin would be at Babylon from around 9:30 to about 11:00, and apparently Brian got there about eleven thirty and stayed until after his quota of three blowjobs and a fuck was met… Even on Saturday, Justin hardly ever saw Brian in the backroom, which he regretted. Brian was so gorgeous when he fucked.

Justin’s own tricking was usually a couple fucks a night. Usually, one of them was with an established fuck buddy, Theo, Vance, Jeremy, Matthew, Bill, Cooper, Jeff or Jamal, all tops except for Bill, and the other with a random trick. He liked those that wore plugs. Less work. He knew a lot of guys by name now, and even more guys knew him, though he’d never met them. He liked it when some guys came with one of his fuck buddies’ recommendations, because that meant that they knew the drill, though most guys who’d ever been in the backroom while he fucked did know his preferences.

He also enjoyed when tops approached him, and then in a roundabout way, telling him how thorough they’d been in preparing for him, basically begged for a rim job. He was always happy to comply, because they were always exquisitely clean, and because it was so easy to make them lose their fucking minds…

Tuesday the 23rd of August, the temperature had been 90, with 94% humidity, a truly hateful day… Emmett’s room had a window air conditioner, and of course it had chosen that day to die. Carl, Debbie’s policeman boyfriend, who was very sweet and amazingly tolerant for a straight guy in his 50’s, was taking it apart and fixing it, so Emmett had begged Justin to go to an air-conditioned movie theater with him. They went to see Sin City, a really cool film, which made Justin wish they would make a movie of Rage, if possible directed by Tarantino…

Justin dropped Emmett back at Debbie’s and went straight to Babylon. He needed to fuck. As soon as he got in he saw Bill, and pulled the laughing kid straight to the backroom. Five minutes later he was pumping in and out of his sweet, soft velvet ass, hugging and kissing his cocoa butter scented skin, saying naughty things in his ear. It was really, really good for the both of them, and they spent a few minutes making out afterwards.

Bill stayed in the backroom, but Justin went to get some water at the bar. He had probably lost a gallon of water to the heat that day. He was unscrewing his Perrier when Glenn, the bartender remarked, “Here comes Kinney’s twink…” For a second, Justin, horrified, thought Glenn was talking about him, but then it was obvious from the fact that he was looking toward the door that that wasn’t the case.

But then it struck him: Kinney’s twink? Uh? What the fuck?

“Kinney has a twink?” he asked Glenn, thinking he might have misheard.

Glenn laughed. “I know. Weird. But he’s been fucking this kid almost every night for like four months.”

Justin’s stomach did an unpleasant little flip. “I’d heard he had a no repeat policy…”

“Yeah. 20 years of no repeats, and now he can’t get his dick out of this kid, Kyle… Go figure… Hey Kyle? What do you want to drink tonight?” Glenn asked a teenager who’d made his way to the bar.

“Sprite, please.”

The young man was about Justin’s height, with big beautiful hazel eyes, pale skin and blond hair. His face, though regular, was a bit narrow and sharp and his lips were very thin. What did Brian see in him? Did they… hang out together? Go out? Did the kid go to the loft and spend the night often? Was Brian falling for him? When had he planned on telling Justin?

Justin felt as if the world were crumbling under his feet. Brian…Aidan… Brian… There was a lump in his throat, and he shivered, suddenly cold to the bones.

“New haircut?” Glenn asked the teenager.

The kid smiled. “You noticed! Brian sent me to his own hairdresser, with instructions and everything, and I even got new highlights…He is such a control freak. He bought me new clothes again, too.”

Justin, whose hair was spiked with gel as usual when he was at Babylon, looked at the boy's blond locks… and suddenly realized the kid was sporting his haircut, loose and soft, like Justin wore it at the office and that he was also wearing the exact sleeveless silver tank Brian had once said he loved on Justin.

There was something else… Justin leaned toward the young man and took a whiff… and could not believe it.

“Wow! Nice fragrance!” he said.

Kyle looked at him and smiled. “Thanks. My boyfriend gave me the whole line for my eighteenth birthday, in June. It’s called Aqua Allegoria from Jerlin. It’s French.”

“Guerlain,” Justin corrected automatically.

“Yeah, yeah! That’s it. I can never remember… I’ve got everything: shampoo, lotion, aftershave, cologne, deodorant… It’s really cool, though the scent is not my favorite. But Brian likes it, so…”

Justin now felt a little sick. “Your boyfriend is generous. This stuff is pricey.”

“I know… I’m so lucky. He loooves me.” The kid laughed. “He’d never say it, you know? But I can tell, the way he holds me when we fuck, the things he whispers in my ear, his nickname for me…”

“Here comes the man now,” said Glenn.

On somewhat shaky legs, Justin retreated so he was behind a couple of big guys, but still able to see the door. Brian walked in, chatted with a bouncer for a few seconds and walked towards the bar. Kyle had a big welcoming smile on his face, but Brian hardly looked at him. He spoke to Glenn for a couple of minutes, grabbed Kyle by the wrist and dragged him towards the backroom. Justin followed. Lucky for him, Brian chose a spot in a recess by the stairs. Justin could be four feet away and not be noticed. He leaned against the wall and listened, watching what transpired through the plastic hangings.

Brian had Kyle turned away from him, and was caressing him, breathing in his neck, in his hair. “I missed you, Sunshine. I wanted to fuck you all day long…” He was running his fingers through the blond locks, pulling a bit. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream…” Kyle must have worn a plug, because Brian was in already, fucking him hard and fast. “You are so fucking tight, Sunshine… It’s so good to be inside you. I need it; I need to fuck you… Don’t give this to anyone else, you hear me? Bad enough you suck them, rim them and fuck them, but this is mine, your ass his mine, you are mine, Sunshine…”

Kyle was panting, jerking himself off while Brian fucked him hard, caressed his hair and kissed his neck. The kid came, spraying his cum all over the wall, and Brian said, chuckling, “You are so easy…” He pushed in deep a couple of times, stayed in deep his head thrown back, and came with a deep growl of satisfaction. He hugged Kyle’s back to him, kissed his neck again, and said, “I won’t see you until Thursday, and I won’t stay long. I have a lot of work. Wear your plug. See you.” He ran his hand through the blond hair again, kissed Kyle behind the ear, and left. Kyle put his pants back on, smiling lightly.

Justin was very glad he’d not eaten anything that day. He now felt horribly nauseated. He walked out of Babylon and managed to throw up the water he’d drank against the wall. He drove home, took his meds and went to bed trying not to think. Not to think about why Brian had seemed fulfilled by their sexual relationship. Not to think about what a lie their sex life was, and how deeply dissatisfied Brian actually felt.

Justin had thought Brian liked their lovemaking. What a joke. He put up with it. He couldn’t top Justin, so he topped his clone. Brian fucked him up the ass by proxy what, four times a week? Justin could never be what Brian needed. Their whole physical relationship, that had been so precious to him, was a fucking lie.

After all these years, those bastards were stealing the most precious thing in his life again. He felt dirty, and lonely, and angry at the past and angry at Brian for lying, for having found a way to fuck him against his will. He felt sorry for Brian too, because he loved him so much and could never satisfy him, and he was sorry for himself because he wasn’t enough and never would be enough, to make that man happy; no matter all the difficult things he did, the restraints that were so frightening, the giving-up of control, the submission to Brian’s desires. And all this time, that fucking hypocrite was fucking him anyway…

The tears came, hot and seemingly endless. After a while, Justin got up, left a message of apology to Stuart saying he was feeling unwell and shutting off his alarm. He might be late in the morning. He got up and took a Xanax. He left an e-mail for Aidan.

Aidan,
Can’t do tomorrow. Something came up. Thursday instead?
JT

Which fucking would Brian choose? His, or the backroom twink’s?

Justin closed his eyes and went to sleep. The Xanax had been a colossal mistake. The dreams were back, worse than ever. The drug kept him asleep and immobile through his nightmares. At 11:00AM when he woke up, he jaw was clamped so tight he thought he might never be able open his mouth again. Two of his fingernails had penetrated deep inside the flesh of his palm, and he had the most violent headache. He took a cold shower, called Stuart to apologize again.

“Don’t be silly, Justin. It’s my job. Are you sure you are up to coming in?”

He drove to the office. He buried himself in work, and stayed late, catching up. He sent Stuart home on time, and worked alone, everyone else gone. Eventually, he checked his work e-mail.


Justin,

Stuart said you are under the weather. Don’t kill yourself working; cemeteries are full of indispensable people. I’m pushing back our work on Lucifer Shoes to next week.

Brian.

And, nervously, his g-mail.


JT

Funnily enough, when I think about you, something always comes up, but not in a way that would make me need to cancel our evening… Shit JT. I was really looking forward to tonight. I miss you so fucking much, even though I see you all the time.

The worst part is that I have something on Thursday, so we’ll have to wait until Friday. I will miss holding you and breathing your scent, and running my hand through your hair, and sleeping with your body on mine. Oh and needless to say, our amazing fucks too…

Aidan.

What a difference a day makes. Monday, this e-mail would have made him so fucking happy. Now he knew it for the bunch of shit that it was and it just made him want to hurl, or cry, or both.

He called Ted.

“Schmidt”

“Hey Ted, It’s Justin.”

“You’re still at the office?” He obviously had caller ID. “What’s up?”

“I came in late. I was catching up. Hey, is Blake home tonight?”

“No, he’s working till midnight tonight and tomorrow. You want his work number?”

“No, no, not at all. I kind of wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt your evening.”

“Please interrupt me! I’m doing laundry!”

Justin chuckled. “Can I come over and help you fold?”

“Definitely. And help remake the bed with clean sheets too. Hurry up!”

Justin laughed when he entered the condo, because the couch was hidden under about four loads of unfolded clothes.

“Welcome!” said Ted. “A drink? No? All right then, pick a pile, any pile! Is this work related?”

“Uh… No. It’s Aidan related.”

“Ah.”

“Is it OK for me to talk to you about this? You and Blake are the only ones who know…

“Yes Justin. It’s fine. I may not be much help though. I’ve only ever had the one relationship…”

“I think I just need to talk about it, really.”

“Shoot.”

“I went to Babylon late on Tuesday because I was at the theater with Emmett. Glenn the bartender saw this kid come in and called him Kinney’s twink. Apparently, Brian’s been fucking him every night he’s there for four months.”

Ted looked up from the laundry and said, “Uh?”

“Yeah. Exactly. The kid is 18. He came to the bar for a soft drink. He’s 5’8” slight built, plain-faced, nothing special that I could see. Then Glenn remarked on his new haircut. Brian sent this kid to our hairdresser where he got blond highlights in his dishwater blond hair, and my cut. Brian also gave him clothes exactly like mine as gifts, as well as my fragrance, shampoo, lotion and everything else for his birthday.”

“Uh ho. I have a feeling I know where this is going…”

“The kid thinks Brian is his control-freak boyfriend. Then Brian arrived. I backed away in the crowd. He never said boo to the kid, just dragged him to the backroom where he fucked him from behind breathing his neck, his hair, telling him things that were, unbeknownst to that poor kid, not really addressed to him. Then he left and told him he’d see him Thursday.”

“Hmm…”

“Yes. He can’t fuck me, so he’s made himself a fucktoy that’s just like me. He said he would be content with what I could give, but apparently, even with normal tricking that’s bullshit. He’s fucking me by proxy.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Betrayed. That’s my first reaction. He lied to me. He might have been truthful at first when he said he’d be happy to take whatever I could offer but he should have said something when it turned out he’d been wrong.

“Humiliated. For four months I have thought we were so… fulfilled, so happy, that our sex life was so satisfying, so wonderful and all this time…” He shrugged dejectedly.

“Violated. Which is stupid. He’s not fucking me against my will. He’s not fucking me period. Or is it that he’s given away my hair, my clothes, my scent? I don’t know. I feel… tainted or something.

“Sad and hopeless. That I can’t be who my lover needs me to be no matter how I try. I have given him complete control of our relationship, hoping to compensate for my shortcomings, and that’s not enough. It will never be enough. He needs what I can’t ever give, he needs it so badly he fabricated himself a substitute. There is no denying that.

“Broken. Because I cannot continue this relationship, even though I love him with all my heart, and breaking up will be the most difficult, the most painful thing I have ever done.“

“You’re going to call it off?”

“What else can I do?”

“This is what you did last time. You never gave him a chance to explain, to choose…”

“Do you think there are alternative explanations for his twink? And he had a choice, and he chose this… pathetic substitution to discussing the problem with someone he’s supposed to love.” He looked at Ted with despair. “And it all comes back to what I can’t give him, and that’s never going to change.”

“Can’t you…” Ted was a top, who’d been fucked many times… It was no big deal to him.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Come and visit my nightmares, and I’ll show you… “I can’t.”

“Even with Aidan and your relationship on the line?”

“Don’t you think I would if I could? Don’t you think this whole thing is fucking killing me? I love him. God, I love him so fucking much. I’d gladly give a limb, a fucking nut to keep him in my life, to make him truly happy. But bottoming? That, I cannot give. Ever.”

“Maybe if you told him why…”

Ha… That sounded so simple. Never mind he would prefer pulling out his tongue and have a frontal lobotomy than talking about it… “No.”

“OK.” Ted let it go, finally.

“Thanks.”

“When do you see Aidan again?”

“We were supposed to spend the evening and night together tonight, but I canceled. I had to think for a while. I offered to see him tomorrow, but he wasn’t willing to reschedule fucking his twink obviously, because he turned me down, telling me he was previously engaged… So Friday, I guess, though I kind of dread it.” He let out a pathetic hollow laugh. “Do you think if I canceled all of our evenings from now on he would get the clue?”

“I think he deserves better than that, don’t you?” said Ted, seriously. “He loves you, Justin.”

“And I love him. What a fucking joke…Doesn’t it just suck?”

“Talk to him, OK? Talk it through. Tell him everything you told me.” Ted grabbed his wrist, until Justin looked up at him. “Please. Don’t just walk away.”

“OK. I will, for all the good it will do. I promise. Come on, we’re done here. Nice boxers by the way. Let’s go make your bed.”

“They’re Blake’s. I’m the tighty-whitey… Yeah, bed. I hate doing it on my own.”

 

******
 

“Theodore… A little late for you to be out on the town on a work day…” said Brian, looking less than thrilled to run into his accountant at Babylon’s coat check on a Thursday at eleven-thirty, his eyes flicking over to a blond-headed boy at the bar.

Ted was already more than a little freaked out by the confrontation he was about to provoke, but Blake had thought an aggressive approach would be best. “Hey, Brian… Prefer to fuck a substitute than spend the evening and night with the original?” he asked. It obviously took a minute for the words to register and for Brian to stop trying to think of a way to get Ted out of the club, realizing he was caught.

Eyes narrowed, he demanded, “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Oh, fuck. Buck up, Teddy. “I was under the impression Justin had tried to reschedule your evening tonight, but that you had a previous engagement. I find it a little amusing that the previous engagement consists of you pushing your dick inside your little Justin construct. As I said, looks like you’re starting to prefer fucking the substitute rather than spending the evening and night with the original…” And this is where he’d get punched in the nose…

But Brian sighed, completely deflated: 10 points for the psychologist.

“Don’t be an ass, Theodore. Until fifteen minutes ago I was at Mikey and the Professor’s. I’ve been trying to spend time there, well with Mikey, regularly, so he doesn’t feel that because I am not the same asshole who needed him, I still do want to be his friend. Believe me, I’d prefer being with Justin a thousand times over. The truth is, he’s my best friend now, not Mikey; though I love Mikey like a brother. Justin would understand. He encourages me to spend time with him.”

“Be that as it may, what the hell is with the twink copy of Justin, Brian? Surely you do see there is something profoundly fucked up with that?” Ted was genuinely curious to understand Brian’s thought process.

Brian rubbed his face with his palms. “God… I want to fuck Justin, Ted. I want him so fucking bad; it’s like an obsession. I see him at Kinnetik, at the diner, playing pool, here dancing and I want him with every fiber of my being. And I feel so fucking guilty, because I swear to god, our sex life is out of this world. Makin… Fucking with him is taking sex to a level I didn’t even know existed. He is the best lover I’ve ever had, we are a match made in heaven and he actually wears me down regularly. But I still want to fuck him. Constantly. So I’ve got this twink who smells like him, dresses like him, has the same soft blond hair, and for a minute or two, I can lie to myself and fuck Justin.”

“Does it work well for you?” Ted asked already knowing the answer.

“Hell no.” Brian’s laugh was bitter. “First I thought if he dressed right, then I thought if he smelled right, then, if his hair was right. But my body knows, my heart knows. But what fucking choice have I got?”

“You could talk to Justin about it.”

“I said I could live with it. That what he gives me is enough.”

“So you didn’t realize how hard it would be. Tell him.”

“There is nothing he can do about it, Ted.” Brian shook his head, looking sad. “He has… major issues about it. I think if he feels guilty about not being able to give me what I need, it just makes it worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck. Fuck. …Ted, I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“Blake and I are the only ones who know about you and JT, Aidan. If you don’t tell me, who are you going to tell?”

Brian nodded, looking tired. “JT has nightmares. He takes some nasty drugs to stop them but that can have really bad side effects. From the meds he takes, but tries to hide from me, I know he also has major anxiety. It’s all part of his PTSD.”

“Justin? He’s always so relaxed, so sure of himself…PTSD due to what?”

“He is relaxed and sure of himself in regards to almost everything. His anxiety is pretty specific. Somehow, it’s all tied to sex. I only know about it from a friend of his in Seattle. He doesn’t talk about it. But his nightmares are intense. He can’t wake up. It’s the real reason we moved his bed. He almost fell off the loft.”

“Holy smokes.”

“And if I tell him how I feel, then he’ll feel guilty about his inability to overcome whatever it is, and the nightmares will start again.”

“Brian. He knows. He was here really late on Tuesday, and met your twink, and watched you fuck him. That’s why he canceled Wednesday, he wanted time to think. He came and talked to me. I am choosing to honor our longer friendship by sharing with you what he told me. He was gutted when you would not reschedule on Thursday, because he thought you preferred fucking his clone than being fucked by him. He sees no solution to your conundrum short of breaking it off. He feels betrayed, humiliated, violated, hopeless and broken. These are his words.”

“Oh, fuck! No, no… Shit. Goddamnit!” Brian looked about ready to pull out his hair. Ted caught his hands for a brief moment, continuing:

“I made him promise not to cancel tomorrow, but to talk to you about this. I don’t know why I care so much. It’s really none of my business except that for some reason, I want you both to be happy. He loves you so much, Brian. You deserve to be loved by someone like him, strong, gutsy, smart, funny; someone who keeps you on your toes. And though your tongue would wither and die were you to say it, I think you really love him too, and that you would probably never love again if it doesn’t work out this time, so that in forty years we’d have to put up with a mean, bitter, nasty tempered cantankerous old fart, and who needs that shit?”

Brian chortled. “I’d still look good, though.”

“You’d look better and a lot younger if you were happy all those years. So…please talk it out and find a way to make it work? I think the conversation with JT might be easier if you were to approach it twink-free though. What do you think?”

“Always full of good advice, Theodore…”

“Groveling, and repeated assurances of your profound esteem might be good too. And you might see if he had any suggestions for your problem. You’re creative guys. Maybe you can think of some yourself.”

“Yes, Theodore. Thank you, Theodore. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go set a twink free. Good night.”

“Good night Brian,”

 

*******
 

Brian looked at the young man leaning on the bar. Same clothes, same hair, same scent and yet, he would never really mistake him for Justin. Even all twinked out at Babylon, and leaning over his Perrier, Justin’s body language said he could take on the world. And it was not just a question of age. Yes, Justin was five years older than Kyle, but Brian could just imagine what Justin, at age seventeen, would have said to a man who tried to tell him how to dress, and sent him to have his hair cut and highlighted. Yeah, right...

He leaned against the bar as well. “Hey, Kyle.”

The teenager looked shocked that Brian should actually talk to him without his dick up his ass. He smiled happily.

“Brian! You’re here!”

“What do you think of your new cut?”

“Uh… I love it?”

“Kyle. What do you think of your new cut?”

“It looks good, but it falls in my face a lot, and my hair gets oily after a while from me pushing it back all the time.”

“Go back and have them do whatever you want, OK? It’s on me.”

“Really! Wow. Thanks.”

“You like the clothes?”

“God yes! I love the clothes. They’re really cool. And expensive. I could never afford Armani, and Gauthier, and all those cool designers. I really love them.”

“Good. What about the fragrance?”

“Well…I love having the whole line… but the scent. It’s just so… green. Before, I had Fahrenheit. I guess I like a little more musk and, I don’t know… perfume.”

“I’ll make you a deal. You bring back your birthday present in its entirety tomorrow and Glenn will trade you for the entire line of Fahrenheit, including everything they make.”

“Really? That’s great. You’ll see, it smells way better on me!”

“I won’t, Kyle. I’m not going to take you to the backroom anymore.”

“But, Brian, why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all.”

“Then why? I really… like you, and the things you say when we fuck, Brian, I know…”

“Kyle, remember the first time I took you to the backroom?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you not to pay attention to anything I say while we fuck. That it’s all lies. That the only things that matter and that I really mean are the things I tell you to your face, never the things I say when we fuck. I know I told you that.”

“But I thought… I thought maybe you said that because you knew you showed a sensitive side when we fucked, and you didn’t want people to know, but that…”

“You were wrong. I wasn’t saying those things to you, or about you, just as I had told you that first fuck. You were my fuck buddy for three months. Now it’s over. You are the only guy I ever fucked more than once. Milk it for all it’s worth. But that’s it, Kyle. I don’t have feelings for you. I don’t give a flying shit about you. I never did… and believe me, no matter what you think, you don’t have any fucking feelings for me because you don’t have the first fucking clue who I am.

“You can still skip the line in front and come into Babylon for free, and get your drinks for free, and you can keep the clothes, and get the haircut of your choice on my dime, and get your favorite fragrance when you return every item of the other one. It’s not a bad deal, Kyle. But you’re still not allowed to come on Saturday nights for three more months. The bouncer knows that and won’t let you in, and please, from now on, don’t try to talk to me, or I may have to change my mind about you keeping your privileges. OK?”

“Brian, I… Can’t we at least fuck one last time? I have my plug in and everything…”

It was tempting. To plunge into that welcoming ass while breathing that scent on the soft blond hair…

“No, Kyle. We’re done. You see the tall, dark-haired guy over there. I’m going to fuck him tonight. Why don’t you pick yourself a trick and put that plug to good use. See Theo, over there? He likes twinks. Go make the moves on him. I hear he’s great.”

Brian did go and dance with the tall, dark-haired guy, and took him to the backroom. The guy’s blow job was outstanding. Brian turned him around, prepared him quickly and efficiently, put on a condom, and slid in. The guy turned around, blown away. “You’re hard again, as if I never sucked you!” He had an Italian accent. How charming. Brian fucked the hell out of him, rushing him to the finish line, using all the tricks he new. The guy came fast and hard, and Brian followed him.

He pulled out of the guy’s ass, removed the condom and wiped himself. The guy was still panting. Brian looked around, at all the half naked, fucking, sucking men, and took a deep breath of the scent of cum, sweat, and lube as he pumped his cock hard again, and asked the Italian, “Are you up for one more or should I find another ass?”

“Fuck me again, please…”

Brian put on a new condom, lubed it, and pushed into the guy’s ass. He was warm and welcoming, and this time Brian took his time. Finally, he lubed his hand and jerked the guy off fast as he fucked him hard and deep. The guy came screaming, and Brian climaxed again, his eyes closed thinking, “Justin. Justin. Justin.”

He pulled out, got rid of the condom, closed his fly and left the room. After a quick wave at Glenn, he went home. His car was idling at a light a mile and a half away before the Italian guy realized he was gone.

In the morning he got to work very early. When Cynthia arrived, he asked that she get a hold of the full line of Fahrenheit and have it sent to Glenn at Babylon.

Wishing the day away, so he would be with him, holding him, telling him how he felt, he wrote an e-mail to JT.

JT

All I could think about last night as I was having dinner with Mikey and Ben, was how much I wish I’d canceled and spent the evening with you instead…

I went to Babylon later where a blond twink reminded me of you. But no matter how much like you they look or dress or smell, they are not you. So I fucked this tall, dark Italian instead, and I will wait impatiently to see the real you tonight, when you can fuck me until I forget my name.

Because being fucked by you is a thousand, a million times better than fucking any tricks.

We need to talk. There are a couple of things I need your help with.

Aidan

TBC…

*The Naked Truth as described is real. It was an ad campaign for Air New Zealand and included the “What to do in an emergency” little movie at the beginning of all the flights (Amazingly, even people who usually ignore that movie paid very close attention…).

And here is sweet little Bill...

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