Spin and Fall

Chapter 7

By the time Ben and Michael picked him up to go to the diner Justin felt he knew his boss a little more. The man was able to take a joke, didn’t mind being called on his bullshit, was obviously a workaholic and understood a fag’s need to fuck. He hadn’t had time to look at the file Brian had sent him, but was excited about it.

Justin was teased at breakfast for his exploits in the backroom, some of which Emmett had caught live, and had been regaling Debbie, Ted and Blake with before he arrived. It didn’t help that two different guys were blatantly cruising him…

“Looks like Sunshine here is going to give Brian some competition!” said Debbie, grinning.

Justin glanced up at her, surprised.

“Ah! Don’t mind me…” Debbie explained. “With hair like yours and a smile like that, I’m going to have to call you Sunshine!”

Ted was looking at him as if he could tell there was more to Justin’s surprise than that and was about to say something, but then apparently chose to keep his remark to himself, for which Justin was very grateful.

Michael shook his head. “Ma, Don’t encourage him. You know no one can compete with Brian. It’s the same thing every time he goes out of town, some guy tops a few tricks and everybody thinks he’s been replaced…”

“Don’t worry, Michael,” said Justin. “I’ve heard enough about Brian and the rules he follows to know I am not his competition…”

Justin had meant that his tricking was completely different from Brian's. He fucked mostly tops and had no desire to treat his tricks like interchangeable nameless fucks, but Michael seemed to feel vindicated.

“Good, because a few that tried have all failed. There’s only one Brian Kinney.”

“Speaking of which, I hope he brings me back lots of photos of my grandbabies,” said Debbie. “Lindsay is good at sending them, but they grow so fast…”

She seemed to finally remember her raison d’etre long enough to ask them what they wanted for breakfast, and place their order with the kitchen.

They all chatted as they were waiting for their food. Apparently Brian was in Toronto visiting his son, whose mother was his college friend Lindsay. She was married to a very successful attorney, Melanie. Melanie also had a child, this one fathered by Michael. He and Ben would be going to visit their daughter the next weekend. Both moms and kids would be coming to Hunter’s graduation.

All of them missed the women and their children who were an integral part of their family. Their departure for Canada had followed a bombing, homophobic in motivation, in which a close friend of theirs had died. Melanie had felt strongly that she wanted to raise her children in the more liberal Canada where Lindsay and she, as well as Ben and Michael, were legally married and therefore had, as a couple and as parents, more rights and protection under the law.

Ben asked Justin when he expected to make his final move from Seattle, and they were amazed to learn that he had already made all the arrangements necessary so that he could leave Seattle at the end of the week, and be able to start his new job the following Monday. They discussed his purchase of a new car. Ben and Michael offered to store it in their two-car garage and come get him from the airport on Friday if he ended up buying one today. Justin was amazed at how helpful and supportive they all were.

After breakfast Emmett and he walked to the first furnished place he had scheduled to visit. It was awful. The furniture was old and dingy, the carpet filthy, the whole place disgusting. They came out of there laughing, naming all the surfaces on which they’d noticed dried cum stains.

They drove the short distance to the second place in one of Emmett’s catering vans. That second apartment was much better. The Ikea furnishings were new and the floor was tiled. However, though it was a one-bedroom apartment, it was minuscule, the queen size bed leaving barely enough room to walk to the sliding door closet, the kitchenette having no room for an eating space and the loveseat, chair and coffee table completely filing the living area. Once back outside, Emmett joked that he had expected to find seven little beds in the bedroom…Justin was so glad Emmett was there. He was making the whole thing fun instead of tedious.

The third place was it. They both knew it as soon as they walked in. It was in a private home and the owner, an older lesbian, lived on the ground floor. It had an independent entrance, beautiful blond hardwood floors, tall ceilings that followed the roof line, lots of glazing bringing in a ton of light, high quality eclectic but spotless furniture in bright colors, and plenty of room to move around. The artwork on the walls was very nice and there was a beautiful rug on the sitting room floor.

The bedroom was a loft on stilts above an office area, which had an old-fashioned oak desk and file cabinet. It was accessed by a straight ladder and had a king size futon bed on a tatami and integrated drawers all the way around the room. There was an enormous skylight above the bed.

By the owner’s own description, the kitchen was a “Survival kitchenette,” which had obviously started its life as a wet bar, with a small sink and a half fridge. In one of the deep drawers made to store bottles she had hidden an electric burner and a toaster oven. More importantly, it also had a very nice blender and an espresso machine... The top of the bar was marble and there were four comfortable barstools. As far as Justin was concerned, it was perfect.

The bathroom had a huge glass-enclosed shower, double sinks, a nice skylight and was tiled completely in emerald green. The toilet was separate. Justin would miss his tub and the trek up and down the ladder from the bedroom to the bath was a bit inconvenient, but nothing he couldn’t live with.

He signed the rental agreement, paid first and last month’s rent, got his new keys and they left. He called and cancelled his last appointment, called Michael and Ben to tell them his apartment had a garage and thank them again for their offer, and then he and Emmett headed to the Audi dealership.

Justin hopped out as Emmett went to park his van. He entered and saw exactly what he wanted, the 2006 TTRS coupe in dark blue with tobacco leather interior, loaded with all the bells and whistles. This was going to be quick. A salesman approached him.

“Nice car, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes. Very nice,” started Justin, about to explain the car exactly matched what he wanted, from the color to the options, but the salesman cut him off.

“So, young man, what can I help you with today?”

Justin curbed his desire to start his request with, Well, old man, knowing the idiot was not trying to offend him. Politely, he said, “Would you mind opening this one so I can take a closer look?”

“Have you seen the sticker price?” asked the salesman condescendingly.

OK. This was going to be an exercise in patience, Justin could tell. He reminded himself that he looked like a college student and that the guy probably was sick of showing the car to kids who just wanted to sit in it for the fun of it. “Yes, I have. I’d still like to take a closer look.”

The man went to get the keys and opened the car. Justin sat in the driver’s seat and the guy sat in the passenger one. Justin would have much preferred to be left alone, but held his tongue. The TT was a perfect fit for someone his size and the interior modification compared positively to his old one. It had the tobacco color leather he favored. He particularly liked the new darker blue paint job. The blue offered with his old model had been too bright, which is why last time he’d taken a grey model. The stereo was fantastic.

The salesman was annoying, sighing impatiently and finally asking, “Seen enough?”

Keeping his cool with difficulty, Justin answered, “Please, feel free to go and help someone else if I’m taking too much of your time…” Sadly, the man did not take the hint.

“Oh, no… I have all the time in the world. I thought you might want to look at something a little more economical…”

Emmett had made it in and was speaking to another salesman, looking at a Quattro.

“Would you look at that…” said his salesman.

“Pardon?”

The salesman laughed. “That guy over there, speaking with Dennis.”

Justin looked at Emmett. He was wearing a light green down jacket which opened onto a dark green mesh shirt, and had a long mauve pashmina scarf around his neck that matched his mauve jeans, which were tucked in white fur boots. He was playing with the ends of his scarf, and the other salesman and he were laughing about something.

“Yes?” said Justin noncommittally.

“Could he be more obvious? He’s got fag written all over him.”

“And that offends you?”

“I find it offensive that I have to know that he likes to suck cock every time I look at him, yeah.”

“Maybe he would find your bad toupee, your gross beer gut, your cheap suit and your bad breath offensive. I know I do. Just the thought of what you subject your poor wife to I find incredibly more offensive than the thought of anyone sucking cock…”

“Excuse me?”

“I like to suck cock too. And shove my tongue up guys’ assholes. And shove my dick in there too, while I jerk them off until they come all over my hand. Then I like to eat their cum off my fingers.”

The guy looked horrified.

“I think I’ll join my friend over there and speak to Dennis. He seems to be less offended by fags than you are. And at least the thought of him making love to his wife doesn’t make me want to retch.”

Justin got out of the car, but then put his head back in. “You should join a gym and go on a diet. And get your teeth looked at and cleaned. That bad smell can’t be a good sign. And maybe consider the Hair Club for Men. Also, with your physique, polyester is really not a good choice. Now excuse me, I have a car to purchase.”

He walked over to Emmett and Dennis, who were having a very friendly conversation about the advantages of gasoline versus diesel engines.

“Dennis, I’d like to buy that blue TTRS over there. I don’t have a trade in and I’ll be paying cash. Please knock as much off the sticker price as you can on the first try, so we can sign the paperwork and get out of here.”

“Uh… weren’t you being helped by Mike over there?”

“No. He was extremely unhelpful actually, so much so that if he were the only one here I would leave without the TT. He doesn’t like to sell cars to fags. So, it’s your lucky day.”

“Oh. Sorry. He can be a bit of an ass. I’ll get the paperwork for you. I can already tell you the max we can knock off the price is eight thousand. I’ll just tell my boss that Mike offended you with his homophobic behavior and that if he wants to make the $130,000.00 sale, he shouldn’t fuck around. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Twenty minutes later they were sliding the glass walls open to get the car off the floor. As he drove off Justin gave Mike the finger and then put it in his mouth and sucked on it. It was stupid, because it would certainly not help the cause, but frankly, with guys like that, nothing would…

They went to drop the van at Emmett’s and then for a joyride all the way to West Virginia and back, listening to “Dennis’s Ultimate Driving Tunes CD”, their friendly salesman's own compilation that he had thrown in with the sale, trading places to take turn driving every so often. Emmett was a very good driver and obviously enjoyed it. They had a great time.

They were nearing Pittsburgh again and had just finished a rousing rendition of Billy Idol’s “Money, Money” when Emmett said, still grinning, “I’m really glad you’re moving here, Justin. It’s nice to have another single guy among us to hang out with now that all the others are in couples…”

“Isn’t Brian single? Don’t you hang out with him?”

“Hmm. Brian is… Gee. It’s hard to explain. Brian acts as if he is completely self-sufficient. The only person he has ever admitted giving a shit about is Michael and even still, he can be incredibly cruel to him. He appears to only suffer our presence and put up with our puerile conversations. He would never participate except to make some sarcastic, often demeaning remark.”

He chuckled. “Yet he is there, day after day, gracing us with his exasperated presence. He is such a jerk. He cannot stand the thought that we might know he cares. But without going into overwhelmingly boring details, at one point or another, he has done amazingly generous and selfless things for each and every one of us. I consider him my friend, but it would never occur to me to ask him to come with me to run errands, or go shopping. The entire time he would indicate in no uncertain terms how bored he was. He acts as if there are only two things of interest in his life - working and fucking. Anything else is a waste of his valuable time.”

Parallel parking effortlessly, Emmett turned off the car and finished his thoughts about Brian.

“The only exception is his kids. I have seen him play blocks with Gus for an hour, listening to his little boy’s fantasy stories, lying on the floor in his Armani sweater and his Dolce & Gabbana pants when he would have kittens if they touched a dusty car door.

“I think more and more we all see his act for what it is, well, all of us except Michael, who still takes him at face value and will never accept that Brian might no longer want to be the superhero he’s always made him into. But Brian’s tongue still has the power to cut you to the quick, you know? And we have all related to each other in a certain way for so long, it’s hard to change.”

Justin thought about the e-mails he’d exchanged with Brian. It seemed they could become friends, but maybe that impression would change when they met in person. “Well, he’s going to be my boss, but I don’t have to socialize with him if I don’t want to…” he said.

“Considering all his friends like you and are going to want you around and that he does own the best club in town, you may not have much of a choice…”

“He owns Babylon?” Wow. No way Justin was giving up Babylon. He really liked it there…

“Yes. Teddy manages it for him.”

Justin chuckled. “Well no wonder you all get in past the line.”

“Right. One of the perks of calling Brian a friend… Well. It’s been a ball Justin, but I have a wedding shower tonight. Everything is ready and I have the most competent staff, but I always feel I need to be there for the prep and set up, you know?” They both got out of the car. “You’ll be back Friday?”

“Yes, though I’m pretty sure I’ll be too bushed to do anything very exciting. I might just call this trick I met last night and fuck him in the comfort of my new home. Do you want to go out on Saturday?”

“Last Saturday was pretty much our usual. The Diner, Woody’s, and Babylon. It’s the night the couples come out. It’ll be nice to have you there. And maybe Mr. Kinney will grace us with his charming presence…” Emmett perked up. “Hey? How about working out Saturday morning? You can come as my guest. I go to a fabulous club.”

“Now, that sounds great. I meant to start shopping around for a club but it’s nice to go where your friends go. Gets you off your ass, you know?”

“I’ll send you an e-mail. Too-da-loo!”

“Uh, Emmett, don’t you need my address?”

Emmett laughed. “Let me guess. J.Taylor @ Kinnetik.com, right?”

“Oh. Of course. All right. See you!”

He was driving back towards his new home when his phone rang.

“JT”

“Justin?”

“Oh, sorry. Yes, it’s Justin.”

“It’s Ted. Do people call you JT?”

“My roommate at Cornish did when I first got there and it stuck. I’m not particularly fond of nicknames. I’d much prefer it if you continued to call me Justin.”

“You seemed a little shocked when Debbie called you Sunshine earlier. Is it just because you don’t like nicknames?”

Justin chuckled. “I thought Blake was the psychologist. No. I was … taken aback because she was not the first one ever to call me that. Aidan did as well. Twice. And I guess we both know that I lie when I say that I don’t care about him and about what happened between us. So… I kind of cherish those memories and having Debbie call me that just felt wrong.”

“Ah.”

“That’s it? Ah?”

Ted chortled. “Yes. For now. But hey, I’m picking up Brian from the Airport tonight. I can give you a ride if you want.”

“I have a 10:00 PM flight. I don’t have to be there till 9:00 PM.”

“He’s arriving at 9:15, so it’s all good. I’ll just go around a couple of times and pick him up. Where should I pick you up?”

“My new apartment! It’s great. Come at 8:00 and I’ll give you a tour.”

“What’s the address?”

“476 Parsley. It’s a big house on a huge lot on the SE corner of Parsley and Edmond. Edmond is one way going south.”

“You’re right in the neighborhood!”

“Yeah. And it even has a garage for my new car!”

“Can’t wait to see it. See you at eight.”

Justin decided to put the time he had left to good use. He shopped for all the things he needed in his new apartment, from cleaning products, laundry soap, toiletries, high quality white towels (He could not imagine his existing towels with those green tiles), new sheets, paper products and even some groceries, since he would be back in five days. He got everything he could think of, brought them back, put them away, threw his new towels in the laundry and made a list of everything he’d forgotten and went back out again. It was fun, actually. He was planning on only bringing clothes with him from Seattle.

Once he was done, the only things missing were his art supplies, but that would take way more time than he had. He had fresh smelling towels to put in the bathroom and beautiful 600 count freshly laundered dark purple sheets and duvet cover on his bed, coffee and nonfat milk for espresso, Perrier water in the fridge. He was set. He took a shower, using the body wash and shampoo in his favorite scent, Aqua Allegoria Herba Fresca by Guerlain. He’d been thrilled to find the whole line at a perfumer downtown. In Seattle he’d had to hunt it down and even online, the deodorant and aftershave lotion were hard to find. Not wanting to overdo it, he only used a trace of the cologne. It smelled of green growing things.

It was only six. He opened his e-mail and downloaded the file Brian had sent. He read all the information on it several times and then Brian’s instructions again, closed his eyes and visualized what they suggested to him. After half an hour, he opened his eyes again and dug a sketchpad out of his messenger bag.

He was heavily into the third panel of the first segment when his doorbell rang. He closed his sketchpad and put it away, part of his brain itching to go on, and opened the door to Ted.

Ted loved the apartment too, especially the large conversation area with the two couches, the four armchairs and the floor cushions.

“This is cool. We could all hang out here; it’s big enough for everybody to sit. All of our places are too small, really. Well, except Brian’s, but we don’t hang out there very often. Well. We better go.”

Justin put on his red down jacket and picked up his messenger bag.

“I’m ready.”

Ted laughed. “Yes, I guess taking clothes back would be silly. Let’s go.”

The ride to the airport was about 35 minutes. At first Ted was quietly driving. Then he sighed. “You should have given Aidan a chance to tell you about his life,” he said. “You never know about people, about what they want or need. Now you’re going to wonder.”

Justin laughed. “Or you are.”

Ted laughed too. “Yes, exactly and more importantly! But seriously. You looked at his photos because you were curious, because you were hoping maybe it could be more than casual, right? Maybe he did too.”

“He wanted it to be more so he was looking at pictures of his wife and kids while I was in the shower? Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm…What was it that was special about him?”

“He was intelligent. Inquisitive. Open. Witty. Informed. Interested. Interesting.”

“You know, I assume he was good looking, but I notice you didn’t mention that. I conclude from that that you have had a lot of good looking men in your life, but not a lot of men you found as intellectually stimulating…”

Justin agreed. “You’re right on both counts. He was very handsome: tall, lean, with dark hair, hazel eyes, beautiful lips, perfect small bum and a gorgeous 9 ¼ inch cock. He gave amazing head and had the tightest ass. And he and I also had the most unbelievable chemistry. We were… beyond compatible.”

“And you are letting this perfect mate go without a fight?”

“First of all, all was not perfect. We’re both tops. The entire time we were together, he bottomed because he knew, well at least at the end he knew, that I … could not. But he wasn’t even versatile. He was a top. And second, I am giving him up without a fight because we are so good together. The more I see him, the more I…”

“Love him?”

Yes. Love him. But was that reasonable, after only what? A total of five days? No. “The more open I become to loving him,” Justin said instead. “And the worse it will hurt at the end when it comes to naught.”

“You never asked him about his family, but you must have talked about you both being tops. What did he say about that?”

“The second time we got together, he brought it up. I told him I could never give him what he wanted, and he said…” Justin hesitated.

“Yes?”

“He said, ‘Then I’ll take what you can give, JT.’” God. It had meant so much. That Aidan should accept him as he was, should understand the reality of the situation and still want him…

“He told you that being with you was more important to him than being a top? My God! Justin. The man loves you…”

Justin remembered how his heart had sung, how they had made love…“I thought that’s what he meant as well, and the next hours were… Why are you doing this, Ted?” Remembering was breaking his fucking heart all over again.

“It seems to me you’ve given up something precious on scant evidence. I’m just playing the devil’s advocate. “

Scant evidence? What more did he want? Justin continued quietly, wanting to finish the story, wanting to pull off the scab and clean out the wound once and for all. “For the next couple of hours I was the happiest I have ever been… Then I saw those photos and I realized he’d just meant, “I’ll take what you can give now. I want to fuck now and I’ll bottom for you again, but then I’ll go home to my wife and go on other business trips in other cities and be myself, be a top.”

“It bothers you that he tricks.”

“Of course not. Tricks don’t matter. We had a trick over for a threesome so he could top.”

“But you don’t like that he has a wife and children.”

“No. I don’t. I want to be… I wanted to be his partner. But I can never be that. She is the partner and I am the trick… nothing but a trick myself. So better it be over now, on my terms.”

“It all comes back to his family. I understand. I guess I still think you should have asked him about it.”

God, Justin missed Aidan. So fucking much, it was ridiculous. Should he have asked? No. He knew what he saw. Explaining it better to Ted only made him more certain he’d made the right decision.

“I didn’t ask and it’s over. I want it behind me. I really appreciate that you care, but I made the right decision. Let’s not talk about it again, OK? Not all of us can hope for the kind of miraculous serendipity that kept bringing you and Blake together.”

“You’re right. Sorry. I’m so nosy. Worse than Emmett, really. And just as romantic. I just hide it better. That’s probably why we have been such good friends for years…”

“I’m glad you gave me a chance to talk about Aidan with someone. I needed to. Now I can move on more easily, I think.” They had made it to the airport drop-off area on the upper floor. “Well, that’s me, Ted.” Justin chuckled. “Say hi to the big boss for me and tell him I’m on it, and I’ll have something for him tomorrow, hopefully. And that he’s going to owe me big time for working when I haven’t even officially started yet.”

“You’ve talked to Brian?”

“Just e-mails. It’s been rather fun. I can’t wait to meet him, really. All right. See you next week. Thanks for the ride.”

“Bye, Justin.”

 

*****
 

Ted drove the large loop cars had to take so as not to loiter in front of the airport and took the downstairs approach to the pick-up area. The second time around he saw the familiar tall, lean, dark haired silhouette of his boss. He pulled to the sidewalk and popped the trunk. Brian put in his bag and hopped in looking relaxed, his smile reaching his hazel eyes. Hmm. Ted felt he was forgetting something… something that was no more than an impression in the back of his mind.

“Hello, Theodore. Nice weekend?” Brian sniffed the air. “Smells good in here. Like grass and mint and green things.” He smiled. “I’ve smelled this before, in a bubble bath…”

Seemed like that was an extremely pleasant memory… Now that Ted thought about it, he realized it was Justin’s cologne. It smelled nice but was not overwhelming. It was amazing that Brian would pick up his fragrance. On the other hand, he couldn’t smell Brian’s unmistakable “Eau Sauvage.” Could he smell… strawberries??

“Very good weekend,” he answered. “And I think that’s Justin’s aftershave or something. I just dropped him off. He said to say “Hi,” that he’ll have something for you tomorrow and that you owe him big time already.”

Brian chortled. “I like him. He’s got balls. And he’s already saved us a bunch of money. He told me about a website that I’ve registered us with that tracks our intellectual property. Eric Carlson, remember him? Apparently, he stole our font collection when he left and was actually selling fonts from his own webpage at eight bucks a download. Also our accounts on Shutterstock, Stock Exchange and Stocklib were being charged by four of our ex-employees for their private endeavors and several copies of software licensed to us were out there being used, one of them by a small printing company in Arkansas who now employs Neil Frasier, that useless piece of shit. And that’s just what they found in the first few hours. Unbelievable.

“They have a collection agency that recoups not only your property, but also any money made from it. Some of the stuff is considered a federal offense and if it’s across state lines, it can be big trouble, so people who get caught are usually anxious to make restitution and settle out of court. Who knew?”

“They are sending us a cleanup disk. We should have it by Monday. You pop it in your dismissed employees’ personal computers, and it surgically excises your company’s stuff. It also removes all their access codes and changes the mainframe’s passwords so they are locked out and no longer have an identity in your system. Exciting stuff. Right up your alley, Theodore. I think you should be in charge of it.”

Wow. It did sound impressive. Ted couldn’t believe people would pull stuff like that after being fired. Maybe because it was software, it didn’t feel like stealing… “Sure. Sounds good. So, how was Toronto? How were the kids?” Ted had a weakness for JR. She was such a doll.

“Great. Mel and Lindz send you their special regards.” They had arrived at Fuller and Tremont. “Is Blake working?”

“On call until midnight. Why?”

“Do you want to park and come up for a drink?”

“Sure.” This was so …strange. More and more, Brian treated him like a friend, showed him a side of his personality, which one had always suspected had to be there, but that Brian had never shared before.

When they got to the loft, Brian got his computer out of his bag and after opening it, handed it to Ted.

“Here. I’ve got new pictures of the kids. I know you’re in love with JR. Why don’t you check them out while I go change.”

Gosh. Gus was the image of Brian. Such a handsome boy. There they were, father and son playing with Lego’s, Brian with a soft expression on his face that made him look years younger.

Ah… Here were pictures of the cutie pie. She had the best features of Michael and Mel. Michael’s big brown eyes, Mel’s cute little cupid bow lips and thick glossy dark brown hair. Strangely, she had dimples on her cheeks like Gus and Brian. She was swinging in one of those baby swings at the park, laughing. And there she was in Brian’s arms in another picture, having obviously fed herself. He was laughing. He looked so relaxed. One more of the sleeping JR in her pink princess room, looking perfectly peaceful, as only a sleeping baby can.

Oh dear god! Brian and Gus in matching construction equipment themed pajamas!

Brian had returned from his bedroom in his usual half buttoned jeans and wife beater. He got a Perrier water and a beer out of his fridge and joined Ted on the couch.

“Definite blackmail material, that one,” said Ted, pointing at the pajamas.

“Oh shit. I can’t believe Lindz took that picture!” Brian looked pissed for half a second, then cracked up. “Oh, well. No one ever sees these anyway.”

Next was a picture of Brian and Mel laughing together, laughing hard, the kind of laughing where you cannot look at each other or it starts all over again. It was the most bizarre thing Ted had ever seen.

Brian got this big grin on his face. “We were making fun of Lindz. It’s this bra she wore to work. She walked in and both Mel and I said, at the same time, “What happened to your tits?” He chuckled. “You had to be there… Of course Mel and I had been goofing off all afternoon, so we were in a weird mood… Plus the kids were asleep and there was Mel’s grandpa’s special hot cocoa recipe involved. Lindz took this with her phone. She said she had to immortalize the moment.”

“You and Mel got along?” Ted could not hide the surprise in his tone. He was done looking at the new photos and set the library for a slideshow. He put the laptop on the coffee table.

“Astonishingly, yes.” Ted watched Brian as he smiled in recollection. “We’re both at a good place now. That, or Lindz spiked our morning coffee with valium, I’m not sure. Anyway, we were alone with the kids most of the time because Lindz worked all weekend, so throwing insults at each other really wasn’t an option…”

The phone rang. Brian sighed and picked it up. “Brian Kinney…hey, Mikey!... Yeah, I just got home…” Brian walked towards the office area of the loft.

The pictures were cycling. Brian with his newborn son, Lindz with the baby, Gus through the years, sometimes with his mom, sometimes alone, a few rare pictures with his dad. A beautiful picture of Lindz with JR. Ted pressed the space bar to stop the slide show. Lindz was smiling at the camera, her expression full of love for the person taking the picture, Mel, no doubt. Her long, artist’s hands, with her wedding band plainly in evidence, held the new baby. Except for the pictures added that weekend, it was only the four of them in the entire library. Brian, Gus, Lindz and JR.

He knew it wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t get Justin’s story with this man Aidan out of his mind. What if Aidan's situation was similar to Brian’s? Carrying around a library full of photos that made him look like part of the perfect heterosexual relationship, when in fact, he was anything but...? True, the chances were slim, but… Ted sighed. He didn’t know why he could just not let it go. Something about Justin’s story was just so compelling. He already felt like a jerk bringing it up that day, no way was he doing that again.

Brian came back, his phone call done, chuckling. He sat down. “Mikey is concerned that I have not been spending enough time at Babylon. He feels my title as the Stud of Liberty Avenue might be in jeopardy. He’s concerned some young blond kid might be trying to usurp what is rightfully mine.” He rubbed his face. “Tell me, Theodore. I’m 34 years old. Is it so strange that though it mattered so much to me five years ago, I don’t give a shit anymore? I still love to fuck in the backroom and I’m glad tricks are not hard to come by, but there are so many things that are more important to me than being the damn Stud of Liberty Avenue. Why is it that no matter what I say, Mikey cannot see that?”

“Well, I suppose you cannot stay a club boy forever, though your friendship with Michael, which is so important to him, is based on taking care of you in your club boy excesses while vicariously enjoying your sexual exploits. I think it would help if you gave us an alternative Brian to get to know. What are the things that matter now, if not sucking, fucking, and being the best at it in the whole of Pittsburgh?”

“Come on, Theodore… Do you have to ask? My kids. Kinnetik. And who knows? Maybe a relationship…”

“A relationship?” Ted was so surprised he didn’t know what to say.

“Not marriage, Theodore. I do still love sucking and fucking. A lot. But someone to talk to, to share things with, to… laugh with. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Uh… Is that just a concept, or do you have someone particular in mind?”

“Someone opened my eyes to what was missing in my life and I would, more than anything, like to explore the concept with him, but regardless, I think it’s time I grew up. I just hope the people I care about can understand that.”

“Brian, we may give you a lot of shit about it, after all, you dished out enough through the years, but we are your friends, you know. And it’s not as if you’ve made being your friend easy, so you know we’re around through thick and thin. As for Michael… Well Michael is married to a very, very smart guy. It may take him some time, but he loves you. Maybe if you let him know you’ll always need him, whether you are the Stud of Liberty avenue or not…”

“I thought Blake was the psychologist.”

“It’s funny. You’re the second person to say that to me this evening. Maybe I should consider a change of career.”

“I’m sorry to have to remind you, Theodore, but you owe me endless years of servitude as my own personal sycophant for taking you in when no one else would. You shall be slaving for Kinnetik and Babylon until one of us dies. Preferably you.”

Ted laughed. “Oh, goody. I feel so blessed.”

“You should. I am allowing you to be part of something greater than yourself…”

“And I am eternally grateful. That I own 5% of Kinnetik and 25% of Babylon, that is.” They cracked up. “Well, I shall go home and keep the fires burning until my twink returns. And I have work tomorrow…”

“Amazing to think that one of us is getting some action tonight and it’s not me. There is something so wrong with that.”

“That’s one of the perks of a relationship. But hey, I believe your 75% of Babylon includes a backroom and that the joint is open until 2:00am on Sundays. Don’t forget you need to reclaim your title or something,” Ted teased.

“Hmm. Now there’s a thought.”

Brian walked Ted to the door. “Thanks for the ride from the airport, Theodore.”

“What are friends for?”

Brian looked at him for a second, as if waiting for the punch line, but of course, there wasn’t one. He blinked and said, “Thanks,” again, thoughtfully. Ted turned away and headed down the stairs, whistling La Traviata.

 

*****

 

Brian sat through the usual Monday morning meeting, listening to the customary reports and complaints. Grant was arguing quite heatedly with Carrie and he was wondering if his art department would not be just as effective this week without her creating dissension. Four campaigns were concluded and due this week, all for small companies. He was happy when the rather humdrum meeting was over. He had been looking forward to checking his e-mail to see if Taylor actually had something for him this soon.

Brian was excited to indeed see an e-mail from J.Taylor with an attachment.

Brian,

I love the way you think. Hopefully, I am not mistaken in my interpretation. (See Attachment).

Just so you are not under the ridiculous impression that I actually work this fast all the time, let me make it clear that I do not actually work this fast all the time, but that you were the lucky beneficiary of a well spent sleepless night.

Hmm… A well spent sleepless night, in my vocabulary, usually refers to a night spent dancing, sucking and fucking. Not, as was the case last night, some strange bout of insomnia probably caused by jetlag… But anyway.

At this stage things are easy to tweak as the segments are still on paper, though I obviously scanned the drawings to send them to you. Once they are finally, totally digitized allowing the art department to produce the necessary boards for the presentation and storyboards for filming, it will no longer be so easy, so DO US BOTH A FAVOR and actually do all your nitpicking now.

If you ask for a change at a later stage that could have been done now, I will either tell you to fuck off if it’s insignificant, or if it’s worth it and I do make the change, regardless of the difficulties, please note it will add a week to my deadlines across the board from then on to cover your fuck-ups. Don’t waste my time and I won’t waste yours.

The sooner I get your feedback, the sooner I will work on the next stage.

Do you like the third segment?

Justin

Brian shook his head. Justin Taylor was one brash little shit. Brian was going to have to reset his perception of his place on the totem pole…

He opened the file.

Close to forty-five minutes later Brian stood up and ran a hand distractedly through his hair, forgetting his appearance in his effort to control his enthusiasm. Justin Taylor was not a brash little shit after all. He was a master at his game and one who demanded the respect of those working with him. Understandably so.

First, the quantity of work he’d submitted was staggering: 16 panels for the five segments with an amount of detail per panel that was unbelievable. Also, despite their almost photographic quality, they were hand drawn, Brian was sure of it.

Second, they not only matched his minimalistic instructions perfectly, they expanded on them, as if Justin had read Brian’s mind and had decided to do him one better.

Last but definitely not least, the segments covered all of the target audience, created brand loyalty and showcased the product perfectly. Justin Taylor was staggeringly good.

Brian called Cynthia into his office.

“Hey, Brian. What’s up?”

“Is there a time today when no one is with clients?”

“All four execs?”

“And you. And Theodore too, what the hell.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

Brian took advantage of the ten minutes she was gone to print the new pictures of the kids in double, for Debbie and Mikey. He did skip the pajama one, as well as the one with Mel and him laughing their asses off. It was bad enough Ted had seen those…

Cynthia came back into his office.

“Tomorrow at 10:30, or if it’s important enough, they are all willing to stay tonight until 5:30.”

“Tonight then. Thanks.”

He spent the next two and a half hours making notes and comments about each of the segments, “nitpicking” Taylor’s work. He wanted the ad execs to see it because he needed to know for sure it was as good as he thought it was, that he was not blinded by his desire to go to Seattle. He also thought that it would be a good introduction as to what they could expect from the art department from now on.

He had lunch at the diner where he delivered the pictures, making Debbie a very happy grandma, and the afternoon with two small new clients, referred by existing ones, easily convincing them to hire Kinnetik. At 5:00PM, Amber Miller, Sandy Brierson, Grant Mead, and Abe Isaacson walked in chatting, trying to guess why they were getting together again so soon after the Monday morning meeting. Cynthia and Ted arrived together. Brian swore that if he didn’t know Ted was as queer as a three-dollar bill, he would think these two were having an affair.

“I’m going to run a presentation for a new client by you guys. The art is still in PDF format, so I’ll show it on the screen.”

Brian ran the presentation as he would to the client, hopefully on Friday. As an intro, he described the goals of the campaign and how Kinnetik was going to achieve them. A few minutes into it, he brought in the first segment: “Because it makes you strong.” He explained the choice of ‘strength,’ shown in surveys as a positive attribute in runners’ minds.
The first panel was a woman running alone by the shore at dusk.
In the second panel she had stopped, breathing hard, her hands on her knees, looking up at a house on top of a hill with all the lights on, smiling.
In the third panel she was running again, having almost reached the house.
In the fourth panel she was running up the stairs in socks, turning off lights.
In the fifth panel she was entering a bathroom, where a man, seated on the side of a claw foot tub filling with water, was checking the temperature of the water and smiling at her.

Brian continued his spiel, explaining that having an edge was considered the single most important social benefit of running in two popular running magazine surveys before he started showing the second segment: “Because it gives you an edge.”
The first panel showed a sharp dressed man entering a building, carrying a briefcase and a gym bag.
The second panel had the same man dropping his bag in a large office with a window, the open bag showing a pair of running shoes.
In the third panel, the man was winking at an older secretary in a friendly way as she smiled, and entering a meeting.
The fourth panel had a view of the meeting participants, some slightly overweight, some obviously tired, a pretty woman colleague watching him discreetly.
In the last panel, he was confidently giving a presentation.

Brian continued with his own presentation, getting to the third segment: “Because it makes you feel great.” Most runners were referring to the endorphins high, of course.
The first panel showed a man on a treadmill at a gym, surrounded by other people working out, including a well-built guy, lifting weights.
The second panel showed the smiling runner with a thin towel around his neck, walking on the treadmill and checking his pulse.
The third panel showed him walking away from the treadmill, passing near the bench press.
The fourth panel showed the runner continuing to walk to the changing room and the well-built guy leaving the bench press and heading in that direction as well.

The last part of the presentation was illustrated by two segments. The first one: “Because every one of them shares your passion,” showed a busy day in the store with little cartoon bubbles next to each employee, from the salespeople to the cashiers to the stock person, describing their running achievement, 5 marathons… 2 ironmen… Boston Marathon in less than 4 hours… Track team at Indiana University… Exercise physiologist… and so on. All of them were actual drawings and accomplishments of employees of Sim and Sam. The last one: “Because it’s all about running,” showed the front of one of the stores that just happened to be located next to a very busy running trail, so that runners were passing it every few seconds.

Brian turned to his ad execs and said, “So?”

He was met with total silence. After a couple of minutes, Brian sat down and sighed. They were so fucking lame. Well, he had all night…

Sandy Brierson finally said, “Brian, it’s obvious it’s your campaign. It’s gorgeous, it’s brilliant, and it’s got sex in every segment. You have never asked anybody’s opinion before. What do you want?”

“I want to know what you mean by gorgeous,” said Brian.

“You're kidding, right? The artwork. The details, the perspective, the lighting, the locations. It’s ready for filming for god’s sakes,” said Sandy.

“Yeah,” said Grant. “I’ve never gotten this kind of result from the art department before, no matter how detailed my instructions. Did you use Cathy? Bob? I didn’t even know we had that kind of talent down there. I knew Carrie was not getting all she should out of the art team, but this is unbelievable…”

“How is it brilliant?”

“Because it makes you strong, because it gives you an edge, and so on,” said Abe. “Runners like to feel they belong to this elite club. This reinforces that idea. I mean, you are talking to runners and runner wannabes here. And this is their store, exclusively. It matches the view they have of themselves. And all the people in the store belong to that club, understand them. That's what it feels like.”

“All right, and the sex?”

“Well, it’s tasteful and not too obvious, I think,” said Amber. “And it’s the kind of sex each group wants. Women want a loving relationship. I mean, in the first segment, the husband who lights all the lights to give her a boost, draws her a bath... So romantic. The young guy who has an edge gets more sex because he’s hot compared to his cohorts. That co-worker is checking him out… And well. I only get the last one because I’ve known you for four years, Brian. Which means people who might be offended won’t get it. They’ll get the “high from the endorphins” part but not, you know… But a lot of homosexual males are runners, since it is so important for them to stay fit, so it’s good to have that there.”

Grant was looking at her like she was speaking in tongues. He was the latest hire, and straight as an arrow. “Uh, Amber. Enlighten me, please. What are you referring to? I don’t see any sex in that last one.”

She smiled at him. “My point exactly…” she giggled a little, but Brian was impressed when she actually dove in and explained clearly for the newbie what she’d only been hinting at: After all, she was pretty, young, married and a tad prudish. “The guy is done running. He and the weightlifter were cruising each other. Now he’s done, and the weightlifter is following him to the changing room. It’s either a hand job in the shower or a blowjob in the steam room coming up…”

Brian put the segment back on the screen, to illustrate her point.

“But,” asked Grant, genuinely puzzled, “why do you think they’re gay? They don’t look gay…”

Amber giggled again. “Yeah, like Brian and Ted do…”

Grant admitted, “Well, I’ve always wondered about that. I mean, Ted, you’re like, married, almost. But Brian. How do guys know to ask you out? Is there a secret handshake or something? You look like… a guy. Like me, you know. And guys don’t ask me out…”

Brian looked at Grant for a moment without saying anything then finally said, “Yes, Grant. We have a secret handshake.” Ted chortled and Cynthia looked like she was going to pee herself. Grant was completely at sea.

“Well. I’m glad you approve because, yes, this is my campaign but the art is by the new head of our Art Department. And here are the instructions I gave him.” He put his minimalist directives on the screen.

“That’s it?” asked Amber.

“That’s all you gave him?” puzzled Abe.

“Wow!” said Sandy, pretty much expressing what they were all thinking.

“This was a bit of a test. We hired him because he said he got the Kinnetik approach. He obviously does. Carrie will be gone tomorrow, but he is not starting until next Monday, so you will be dealing directly with the art worker-bees until then for your art needs. Go easy on them, they’re about to have a bit of a shock I think. Thanks for staying late. See you tomorrow.”

His ad execs left, speaking excitedly, Amber trying to explain the concept of gaydar to poor Grant.

“Ben lifting weights and Michael as the runner… Justin is funny,” commented Ted.

Brian smiled. “Yes, too bad it won’t be a national campaign. They would have liked that…”

“He’s really good, isn’t he,” said Cynthia.

“An understatement,” Brian agreed. “Let’s see how he is at getting his team to rise to his level.”

“Well, he can’t be worse than Carrie,” said Cynthia, philosophically.

“Did you get that disk from “Track it” today, Theodore?” asked Brian.

“Yes, as well as an expended report. I’m really glad you did this. Things were totally out of control and we didn’t even know it.”

“Well, you will be trying it out on Carrie’s laptop tomorrow once Cynthia’s fired her.”

“Hey! I don’t do firing! That’s your area!” cried Cynthia.

“Sorry, but I have a lot to do tomorrow. I’m going to Seattle on Friday after the Rickert Carpeting proposal,” explained Brian.

“Brian! Godammit!”

“Hey, that’s a much longer warning than last time since I’m not going until Friday…”

“Oh, for crying out loud! Are you planning on opening a branch office there or are you fucking a flight attendant?” she asked, frustrated.

Brian laughed. “Neither, though both sound pretty good…”

Ted was giving him a strange look. “What time is your flight? I’m picking Justin up at 3:00PM.”

“Great, my flight is at 3:30.”

“How serendipitous,” said Ted. “Well it was fun, but I need to go and finish downloading this sniffer program from Track it before I go home.”

Brian was always grateful at how dedicated Theodore was to Kinnetik. Hiring him had been the smartest thing he ever did.

“Oh, and Brian, I need to copy your social security card for the new security protocol. I have everyone’s but yours.”

Brian searched his wallet and handed him the card.

“Brian Aidan Kinney?” read Ted, looking totally nonplussed. “Hmm… Nice middle name, Brian.” He handed back the card.

“Don’t you need a copy?” asked Brian.

“Oh, yes I do. Sorry, I was distracted for a moment,” answered Ted. He made a quick copy and handed it back.

Alone in his office, Brian reviewed his comments on Justin’s work one more time. Even after the meeting with his staff he had nothing to add. He had not been influenced by his desire to have an excuse to return to Seattle. The stuff was amazing. Brian smiled to himself. Today was a very good day. He had confirmed that both Ted and Cynthia’s impressions about their new Art Director were right on the money and he had the excuse he stupidly needed to return to JT.

He leaned back in his chair and again remembered their lovemaking last Saturday night. It was so amazing that sex could feel this way, that he should have chosen to hold hands with his lover rather than pleasure himself because he had relished the connection of their intertwined fingers and had known that with JT, he did not need the extra stimulation, but would eventually feel pleasure so intense he would forget the rest of the world existed…

It was also remarkable that when he thought that he would never be able to top JT what he felt was sorrow, sorrow at not being able to reciprocate, at not being able to love him in that way and not frustration at having to continuously bottom. He missed JT. His body craved him, but he also missed their conversations, their teasing, and that feeling of … belonging. He was so, so fucked it wasn’t even funny…

He was looking forward to just showing up at JT’s after his meetings on Friday. It would be too early for JT to have gone out to a club yet, so he was pretty sure to find him at home and if he had decided not to go out and had a trick at home, well, it would be fun, though Brian was looking forward to being alone with his lover later…

But enough daydreaming.

Justin,

Not bad. Please find comments attached.

I feel comfortable not reviewing the panels after you apply the corrections suggested. Go ahead and digitize.

Ideally, I would like to have the final panels Thursday morning, as I will be presenting the campaign on Friday, late afternoon.

This ridiculous time frame is self-imposed so I can book two presentations in the same business trip. You will find our deadlines to be ordinarily extremely reasonable, as we like our artists to feel they have the time to do things right.

Mikey and Ben looked awfully nice, though Mikey is as likely to run for exercise as to run for president.

On a happy note, one of my ad execs thinks gay men recognize each other through a special handshake. What do you think?

Insomnia is a bitch. I find three blow jobs and a fuck to be fairly good medicine myself. That’s a lot of handshaking though.

Brian.

Brian decided to follow his own advice. After a lonely take out meal, he dressed for success, went to Woody’s to play pool and get his first two blowjobs and then headed to Babylon where, after an hour of dancing and grinding against a cute blond, he realized he couldn’t fuck him. So he abandoned the poor boy and grabbed the first decent looking tall, dark haired man he encountered and took him to the back room for his suck and fuck. Despite Mikey’s dire predictions, he’d had no problem finding a trick, nor nailing him unceremoniously against the wall. He packed it in and went to bed early.
 

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