“That’s great. So their Dad knows?”
“He has known for years. We can talk over everything tonight with the others, but I think it’s all good. You?”
“Nada. The rep is giving me the run around, sending me irrelevant stuff, not giving me what I ask for. Also, apparently, the doctor who headed the team conducting the FDA trials at Columbia has left the country, and gone back to El Salvador where he has opened a clinic.
“So I’m completely dependent on their rep for help. I sent for the FDA report, but it will be a while before I get it, and chances are it will make no real sense to me… Anyway. We can discuss everything tonight. Where are you?”
“Still at Columbia. I had to plug in to call you. I’ll get a cab to class. Good thing I don’t start till two.”
“What do you have today?” They had never really discussed Justin’s classes before. Justin was surprised how pleased he was that Brian should ask.
“Drawing from life.”
“Is that were you get to draw naked models?”
“That’s part of it, but some people are dressed, and we also do animals. We’ve met at the zoo a couple of times, and we had greyhounds come in just last week.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s interesting to learn all the different techniques, but sometimes it’s frustrating because of my hand. Other than that, I enjoy it a lot.”
“Good. Hold on.” Justin could hear Cynthia’s voice in the background. “Harold Montrose is on my other line. I have to go. Later.”
“Later.”
All the way to Pratt, Justin felt the effect of the conversation. Brian and he spoke of Art related issues often, whether related to Plexus, or to Justin’s paintings. But they had never spoken about what he did in school. Justin had never even noticed, to be honest. Brian’s expressing an interest in it made him feel really good. He grinned to himself. He was so crazy in love.
Drawing from life, as Justin had expressed, could be frustrating for him. After a couple of hours, Justin’s hand would usually start acting up. He had developed a coping technique now. Everything he could he did with his left hand: the general outline, the shading, anything that did not require perfect precision.
It put less pressure on his right hand, but sometimes had drawbacks. It you were right handed, especially with charcoals or pastels, you tried to work from left to right, to minimize smudging. If you work ambidextrously, as he did, you had to cope with not being able to rest your hand on the paper at all. He tried to rest his wrists on the frame, or protect his work with paper held in place with painter’s tape. It complicated matters.
He had not disclosed his condition when he’d applied to Pratt, and for most classes it was not an issue, but for this one it was a constant problem. It had not taken long for his instructors to require explanations for his unorthodox approach, and some of them were more supportive than others.
Because of the extra steps he had to take, the time constraints were more severe. He had unconsciously compensated by drawing faster. At first his technique suffered, and he was often not fully happy with the final product, but little by little his accuracy had increased, and he also got faster at ‘blocking’ his work progressively with paper and tape. He found that the paper used to line baking pans worked best. After a month, he had started to be satisfied with his results, and since then, things had only gotten better.
When they got to pencil drawings, where smudging was much less of an issue, it made his life so easy he loved it. He felt he had so much time. The instructor in that particular technique was astonished by the amount of detail Justin had time for compared to other students. So now, his earlier suffering actually gave him an edge.
Todd and Bandon were coming for dinner at seven to discuss Tuscan, so there was really not time to go to the studio to paint. However, the Thursday before, one of his classes had ended. It was a technique class, where they were given a topic or particular technique and required to paint a canvas, sketch, draw, or do a watercolor with a strict time limit. The theory was that it would help develop spontaneity, and increase their trust in their choices.
It was the class where he’d painted Florence’s portrait. He had to admit he loved how that one turned out, but two others he really disliked. One was a monochromatic rendering of a still life, and the other an impressionist rendering of a photograph. His grades in the class had been really good. He just didn’t care for all of the results.
So now he was on a mission. He met Lilah and Rory in the studio, and they each got out the paintings they disliked. Rory hated all three; Lilah liked her monochrome, but hated her impressionist and portrait. They could, and really should, have reused the canvas, but after his immolation of A Beautiful Life, they had somehow decided to burn them.
They had a little procession to the parking lot, and set up way away from any cars. Rory, always safety conscious, had even brought a small fire extinguisher, just in case. They sprayed their paintings with barbecue starting fluid, which was much more flammable and much less expensive than turpentine.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” said Rory, in a playfully reverent voice.
“Return thee to mediocrity’s well from which you sprang,” said Lilah.
“Begone, begone, thou foul images, to the fires of hell we condemn thee!” said Justin.
Lilah dropped the match, and they all stepped back. Even though they were expecting it, they still jumped when all the fluid seemed to ignite at once, and they giggled. Lilah started to dance, singing the few lines she knew of Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire. She shoved Rory to force him to join her and move around the flaming canvas. Laughing, Justin joined them.
For the next few minutes they danced around, and then finished in a disorganized group hug, laughing their heads off. They decided, as they disposed of the few remaining unburned pieces of frames, that it had been a very successful and extremely cathartic endeavor.
Justin took a cab home, and was surprised when he came in to see that Brian had come back from work already. The camel coat he wore that morning was in the closet, and his computer was on the desk.
“Brian?” He wasn’t home. He must have gone back out to run some errand.
Justin took out his cell. It was dead. Annoyed, he plugged it in. At least he had no missed calls. He really needed to order a new phone. He went to the desk where Brian’s laptop was open on some horribly boring looking financial chart. He opened a new window and googled Cell phone. The list appeared. He was intrigued to see that several of the listings were purple instead of blue, showing that site had been visited from this computer already.
Out of curiosity, he checked Brian’s history. Last Saturday, mid afternoon, Brian had spend about an hour and a half on different sites about cell phones, including the Consumer Report, the Electronic Review… He went to the last site visited.
It was called PureMobile.com, and was an Internet retail outlet. Digging into the history he saw that a Motorola V3i had been put in the shopping basket, purchased, and the purchase canceled. Justin smiled. He wanted to know more. Using the knowledge he had gained through years of tweaking his programs, he checked how much time had separated each event. The phone had sat in the basket twenty-two minutes before the purchase was made, and the purchase canceled four minutes later. He chuckled.
Justin closed the window he had opened, and went to take a shower. He smelled like a bad barbeque. In the shower, he reflected on the significance of what he had just found out.
He knew how important it was to Brian to be able to reach him. It had been very high on his list of requests during their ‘Boyfriend’ discussion. He was obviously really bothered by the unreliability of Justin’s phone, and yet had not mentioned once during the weekend Justin’s procrastinating in ordering a new one over the Internet.
Brian had spent an hour seriously researching what the best phone for Justin would be. Yet he had not brought up his findings, leaving Justin the freedom of buying what he wanted, accepting that his own choices and criteria might be different from Justin’s.
Justin imagined that Brian had put the phone in the shopping cart and then debated within himself the pros and cons of buying it.
He tried to guess Brian’s arguments for both sides of the issue. Justin would have a phone. He would have it quickly (Brian had requested the overnight delivery. Had he left his order standing, the new phone would have arrived at Plexus this morning, and by the time Justin left for Columbia, it would have been fully charged and ready to go.) Justin would have the best phone available according to his research. But…
Justin would not have gotten to pick his own phone. He would be annoyed at Brian buying him an expensive item again though he had already told Brian how he felt about that. And finally, it would be treating Justin as less than a fullgrown adult, allowed to do things when he felt like it, and if he felt like it.
After 22 minutes his desire for Justin to be reachable had won over everything else, and four minutes after that, his respect for Justin had won over his own desires.
Justin felt like a jerk for not taking care of this sooner even though he had known it was important to Brian. Now that he knew just how important, he decided to fix the problem as soon as he had a chance.
He stepped out of the shower to be welcomed by a smiling Brian and a hot towel. That was very nice, as was the delicious kiss, cold on the outside, and warm on the inside.
“I picked up dinner,” Brian explained. “I’ll go set the table.”
“I’ll be right out and give you a hand,” said Justin.
He put on a white undershirt, his favorite blue cashmere hoody, Calvin Klein boxers, cargo pants and a pair of white socks before joining Brian. He got the cutlery out of the drawer.
“Brian, do you know anything about the newer cell phones?” Justin asked conversationally. “I’ve been meaning to order one, but I haven’t made the time to research it.”
“A bit. What are you looking for?”
“Clam shell. They feel better to me. Not too bulky so I can have it in my pocket on vibrate at the club and not look like I’ve padded myself. Reliable, I guess. With an alarm clock feature.”
“Don’t you want a camera?”
“I have not had one yet. What would I use it for?”
“Take a picture of something that inspires you? Take impromptu pictures of friends goofing off? Of Gus, anytime you think he looks cute?”
“Hm. I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, a camera would be good.” Brian had obviously thought this through, and anticipated Justin’s needs and desires.
“If you are tired of carrying a separate mp3 player, you can get one that will hold your music as well.”
“Really? That’s cool! But it must cost a lot. I don't want to pay one month’s salary for a phone.”
“I hear you. Why don’t you check the new Razr on the net, and read about it. I can finish the dinner preparations.
Justin went to the Motorola page and read all about Brian’s choice for him. It was really good, if a little pricey. “I like their V3i model,” he said. “What do you think?”
“I think it would be a good choice for you.”
“Me too. I think I’ll order it.”
“I have an account with a retailer, and I get a bit of a discount with them. Also, I can insure your phone against damage and theft through their website by putting it on my registered credit card if you want.” Brian was done preparing for their guests and was looking at the screen over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you do that,” said Justin, getting up. “I’ll get my checkbook and write you a check for the amount.”
“I’ll have them overnight it to Plexus. It can be charged and ready to go by the time you leave for class if I place the order now.”
“Great.”
Brian did what he needed to do, which was probably just to resend the form from last Saturday, told Justin the amount (accurately, noted Justin, who of course knew exactly how much the order came to), closed his laptop, folded Justin’s check in his wallet, smiled and grabbed him to sit him sideways on his lap.
“Thanks for taking care of this. I’m really glad.”
“I should have done it this weekend. I know it matters to you. I’m sorry.”
Brian kissed him, a lovely long sweet kiss.
Justin looked at his face, and ran the back of his fingers along his jaw. “You are a beautiful man,” he said, smiling. “Inside and out. And I am a very lucky one.”
Brian pulled him closer, and hugged him. “Thank you. My sentiments exactly. And this is where we suddenly both scream in horror, discovering we’ve grown breasts and we are now a couple of lesbians…”
Justin burst out laughing. “God forbid!” he said. “I wish you had time to brutally throw me down and take me from behind, grunting, just to exorcise that thought.”
“Sounds all right to me. Damn. It’s five to seven. No time for a good testosterone-affirming fuck. Well, there’s always tonight…”
The door buzzer went, and Justin got off Brian’s lap to go answer it, chuckling, wiggling his bum. “Hold that thought,” he said. Brian followed him quickly and grabbed his ass.
“Thought,” Justin said again. “Hold that thought, Brian, not that ass.”
“Sorry,” said Brian, smirking. “My mistake. I’ll get us some drinks while you let them in, shall I?
Dinner was both fabulous and instructive. Brian had gotten some filets mignon from some fancy caterer that he’d had to finish in the oven, some steamed greens and a really good fat free salad. They all had a shot of decaf espresso for dessert.
Brian was very happy to hear from Justin that there was no love lost between the twins and their father, and that they actually wished their mom to be aware of their sexual orientation. Their Dad could certainly not blame the twins for someone else outing them to their mother. That gave him a lot of freedom.
Brian had called Plexus’ own legal team and had explained the situation to Gerard, who headed it. It seemed all the precautions he was taking were great. Gerard’s only advice was to send a copy of the file to an independent council on retainer, and let Tuscan know that was happening. It would prevent Tuscan from knowingly making legal claims that were untrue, and prevent a session of “he said, she said” if the case were ever going to go to court.
Brian still had gotten nothing but the run around and some hardly veiled bullshit from the Tuscan rep. He’d actually called Alan in about it, and had been quite pleased when Alan had looked as concerned about it as he felt.
Alan had already called Tuscan and had mentioned to him that since Brian had never met him, and he had never met Brian, and since Brian did not have a wife who would, with Tuscan’s own wife, help a first meeting, it might be a good idea for he and his wife to attend as well.
He had explained that he wanted them to start out on the right foot and develop a productive, friendly relationship from the start. Tuscan had replied he needed to discuss it with his wife, and that he would call Alan back. As of 5:00, Monday evening, he still had not.
None of them was sure what would be best: for Brian to be alone with the Tuscans, or for Alan to be there to bear witness. On the one hand the presence of Alan and his charming wife Heather might help keep Tuscan civil. On the other, alone, Brian could afford to be as brutal and vicious as he needed to be.
After Justin’s departure, Brandon and Todd had continued to pump the brothers for information. It seemed that ever since they were little, at home, Bob Tuscan had always been a petty tyrant, keeping a tight control over every aspect of their lives: The classes they took, the sports they played, the friends they were allowed to hang out with. His biggest mistake had been to send the two of them to an all male school at an age when the teenage hormones ran unchecked.
They had known for sure they were gay since they were sixteen, when they had both taken girls to the Junior Prom. The celebration took place in a large hotel downtown, and a few of them had rented suites. The TVs had satellite, and in one of the suites, the channels were not blocked.
Soon, to the dismay of their young ladies, most of the boys were sitting down, watching pornography. Bob and Alex thought it was all right, somewhat exciting, but then somehow the channel had been switched to a male on male one, and they had both been riveted to the screen.
A senior who had come as one of the junior girl’s date, and who had orchestrated the channel change, approached them as soon as the TV returned to the male on female porn.
He was the captain of the wrestling team, and offered for then to join him in his much smaller room, where, as an eighteen year old, he had access to the encrypted channels. Soon all three of them were lying on his bed with hard-ons, watching guys rimming, sucking, and fucking each other. When he had started caressing them through their tuxedo pants, the brothers had thought they were in heaven. He had then made the boys an offer they could not refuse.
He would suck off whichever brother would let him have a chance at his ass. Before either one of them could respond, there had been a knock on the door and the co-wrestling captain, who happened to be the captain’s best friend, walked in, looking completely at ease with what was going on. Since both Alex and Bob wanted their cock sucked, and really, their ass fucked as well, the arrangement had worked out beautifully.
About an hour later, and their wallets 200 dollars lighter, both brothers had their dicks up the wrestlers’ asses. It was a night to remember. Since the wrestlers had only ever fucked each other, and the brothers were virgins, they did not even bother with condoms. By six in the morning, starving as only teenage boys can, they had all finally left the suite, all four of them walking a little stiffly on their way to Denny’s chicken fried steaks. All of their long-suffering female dates were long gone, and they couldn't have gotten dates for any other dances if they’d tried. They did not.
Over the next two years, Rob and Alex fucked practically the entire football team. Most of its members would end up being straight, of course, but were experimenting, boarding without a girl insight. and eager for the popular brothers to help them through their teenage angst.
The dinner was scheduled for Wednesday evening. They discussed the many ways the dinner could hypothetically go. Brian grinned at one point and said he felt he was preparing for a military mission, but underneath the teasing you could tell that he was really, really glad to hear all their thoughts and suggestions, giving him the different approaches of three intelligent minds aside from his own to think up his perfect strategy.
At ten, Brandon and Todd left. Brandon had to catch a plane back to the Pitts early in the morning, and Todd had to work. Brandon had put down a deposit on an apartment as small if not smaller than Todd’s, so his quest had been successful. Even though the central topic of the evening had been serious, they had still managed to have a great time, with the usual teasing and laughing.
Brian and Justin cleaned up, cooperating automatically.
“I wish I could come with you,” said Justin.
“Well you could go in Drag. It worked in ‘La Cage aux Folles’,” joked Brian.
“When did you see that?” asked Justin astonished.
“Cynthia did, and gave me a synopsis. It did actually sound funny. She and Bower, from accounting, had a really good time.”
“I have never been to a real play. Have you?”
“Does College Theater count?”
“No.”
“Then, no.”
“We should try it some time. We live in New York. We should take advantage of it.”
“Well, we certainly could try it.” Brian caught Justin as he was passing by on his way back to the kitchen after drying off the dinner table. “Right now I can think of a couple of things I would like to try as well.”
“Oh, yeah?” grinned Justin. “Like what?”
“Well, if my accounting is correct, you too now own four ties. How about we use them on you all at once, and try my Valentine’s Day present?”
Justin’s cock was instantly hard, and he shivered in Brian’s arms. “Hummm…” he said, with a smile he hoped was enticing. The way Brian reacted, he concluded he had been successful.
Lying in Brian’s arms later, Justin brushed his sore nipples with the tip of his fingers, Justin decided Brian had liked the nipple clamps Justin had bought for them. Justin had really liked them. Just like the last time bondage had been part of their lovemaking, he concluded he wouldn’t do it every other day, but could certainly enjoy it occasionally. He sighed, smiling when the long fingers of Brian’s right hand wrapped themselves loosely, but oh, so possessively around his right wrist. He cuddled closer into Brian’s arms, and fell asleep.
To be continued...
Justin's Fag Hags, Lovely Lilah, and beloved Daphne...
