Together

Chapter 34

Far from home.


It was 4:50 AM. Brian had woken with a full bladder, and had gently extricated himself from his hold on Justin to go relieve himself. Justin had settled flat on his back, and was deeply asleep, his angel face fully relaxed, his lips slightly parted. Brian lay down on his side next to him, his head supported by his hand. He slid the dark grey sheet that covered Justin off, and drank his fill of the sight of him.

One of Justin’s hands rested on his flat stomach above his navel, the other was relaxed by his side. His penis was nestled in the soft dark blond pubic hair. His skin was flawless. Brian’s eyes automatically went to the spot where the bullet had gone in, below his left nipple. There was no trace of it whatsoever. The plastic surgeon had done a perfect job.

As it did every time he thought back to that day, that moment when the gun had gone off, a shiver ran down his back and his heart accelerated. He was conscious of the fact that had Justin not pulled him off that piece of garbage, he would have kept on banging his head on the ground until it split like a melon. He had wanted to kill him, and had proceeded to do so. He felt no regret for his actions whatsoever, and would happily do it again, to completion this time, given the chance.

Ethan Gold had hurt Justin, mentally, by stealing the creations of his heart and soul, and physically, by attempting to kill him. Brian did not doubt for one moment that Ethan had known there was a bullet in the gun’s chamber and that he had emptied the cartridge in preparation for his defense. The shooting had been coldly premeditated. If he needed any further proof than his gut feeling, the fact that Ethan had said, and was maintaining, that he burned the paintings was it. By saying so he insured that they would not be looked for, and that he would cause Justin as much pain as possible since he had failed to kill him.

Sandoval was now fully cognizant of the paintings theft, and of the subsequent caper to recover them. He had also laughed his ass off as Brian recounted the adventure, and just like LaShaun, had told him to keep his day job. Brian smiled to himself. He didn’t mind providing amusement to criminals and law enforcement alike. He had found the paintings and retrieved them, and was quite satisfied with that.

Sandoval shared Brian’s belief in Ethan’s intentions. He had interviewed him multiple times in the hospital, and was convinced the violinist was a pathological liar, and had psychopathic tendencies. He had taken a strong dislike to him, which made Brian very happy. Of course, the man had also immediately liked Justin. He had talked him into taking a self-defense refresher course offered at the police academy. Brian was very happy about that as well.

He was leaving for Vail today. He had tried hard to curb his protective feelings for Justin, and intellectually thought going away for a couple of days was a very good thing. His emotional self had other ideas, though. It wanted Justin locked in the loft with Sandoval guarding the door the whole time he was gone… He grinned to himself.

All the plans were laid in for Friday evening. It should all go smoothly. Jessica was a great actress and Brian had no doubt she could pull off her part. His heart was dancing at the thought, though there was a small amount of anxiety as well. What if he said no? Brian had planned for that contingency, but still. It would kill him… He would say yes. Of course he would. They loved each other so fucking much it was downright sickening.

Brian had even made up his missed dance lesson over the weekend, in between working like a dog. Cynthia had rescheduled his Thursday morning in full to Saturday, and had also filled up the rest of that day, though on Thursday night he had stayed at the office until 10:00 PM. Friday, he had been at the office, bright eyed and bushy tailed, at 6:00 AM, and had once again stayed till 10:00. Justin was painting, anyway. They had met at Essengy at 10:30 and had had a great time. Brian loved to watch Sunshine dance, and guys come onto him, then come over, and Justin would crush their plans. It was so juvenile. Justin just laughed at him, but loved Brian’s absurd possessive streak, really.

Last night again he had stayed at work till ten. He thought maybe Cynthia had finally forgiven him. It didn’t hurt that he had translated his dance lesson into a contract with the “All that Jazz” chain, and gotten three more to boot. This huge apparel company called “Togs”, from LA of all places, had left their old advertising agency to join Plexus because of the Tuscan affair.

The creator of the company, a militantly gay man, had said he wanted an agency that would risk its reputation to take down a prick like Tuscan. Togs also had a record label, an exotic travel organization, an airline, a makeup and beauty products line, a shoe subdivision, a home decorating branch, and a foundation to bring computers to the classrooms in disadvantaged neighborhoods. As Mark so eloquently liked to put it, “Kerching, kerching!” It was a one and a half million dollar contract.

It was 5:15, time to wake up his sleeping beauty. He caressed and kissed all that luxurious expanse of perfect skin, and Justin was smiling, his eyes still closed. His penis slowly unfolded and straightened, until it was hard enough to stand away from his body. Hmm. Did that mean Justin wanted to fuck? Brian rolled him over and pulled his ass up, getting him on his knees, though his upper torso was still on the bed, and Justin resettled on the pillow as if to continue his night. Brian smiled.

He spread Justin’s cheeks slightly, and just the sight of the pink folds made his already hard cock start dripping precome. The thought that precome was a lubricant, and that Friday night, he could fuck Justin on saliva and precome alone, with no condom, almost made him come. He started licking and teasing Justin’s anus with his tongue, and Justin let out a nice satisfied sigh. Needing no further encouragement, Brian started to make love to that small entrance with his mouth, kissing, probing, fucking, sucking, licking. The noises Justin was making were so fucking arousing, he had to fuck him now. Sheathing himself with a condom, and quickly lubing it, he placed himself at Justin’s entrance and played, pushing in to open the way, and backing out letting Justin’s outer sphincter close back up. The feeling on the head of his cock was… indescribable.

He did it one more time and laughed, as Justin, taking him by surprise, backed up onto his dick suddenly, impaling himself, sighing with satisfaction. Brian got the message, and started fucking him, fast and deep. He reached around his body, putting most of his weight on one arm, and started jerking Justin off, in counter point to his fucking.

It was nothing special, just a morning fuck in a classic position, yet it felt like heaven on earth, the pleasure intense and mind altering. Fucking Justin was always new, always fresh, always different, and so many times Brian had thought ‘this is the best fuck of my life’ he didn’t bother anymore, just accepting the fact that sex between them was extraordinary.

As Justin neared orgasm he started making the wonderful pleasure noises that always drove Brian crazy with lust. He wanted to come, right now. The motion of his hips accelerated, and automatically his hand on Justin’s dick as well, and they both were hit by their orgasms at the same time, moaning in concert, Justin’s ejaculate spurting, hot and plentiful through his fingers, as his filled the condom deep in Justin.

They lay side-by-side for a while, Justin’s head on Brian’s shoulder, Brian’s arm around him. Brian chuckled. “Two nights, and we’re acting as if I was going to Antarctica for a year.”

Justin chuckled as well. “Promise me to dress warmly, say hello to the penguins for me and write everyday, and I’ll tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree.”

Brian rolled on top of him, his body entirely covering Justin, his weight on his elbows. “It’s ridiculous that I feel compelled to say this, and I can hear my old self gagging in disgust as all the lesbians and other couples I’ve made fun off through the years are laughing their head off, but Justin, I’m going to miss you. “

Justin reached up and captured his lips in a kiss. “I won’t miss you at all. I’ll miss your cock though. Can you leave it behind? I’ll take really good care of it. I’ll pet it, and kiss it, and I have a nice dark warm place for it to sleep in…”

Brian bit his lower lip, before kissing the hell out of him. Justin caressed his face, smiling, and admitted, “I’m going to miss you too…”

“But not if I don’t leave.” He stood up. “I have a plane to catch.”

LaShaun greeted them with a big smile when they picked up their orders. He was at Jessica’s every afternoon, and she said she could not believe anyone could learn so fast. She confided to Justin that she believed LaShaun’s IQ to be in the 130’s minimum. If he was serious about getting out, and she felt he was, he would have a brilliant future.

They drank their coffees, and spent the rest of the ride to Plexus making out like teenagers. At the front door, after one last kiss, Justin hopped out and went up the stairs. At the door, he looked over his shoulder with a grin, knowing full well Brian had been watching his ass. Brian grinned back, and Justin went in.

Brian took a deep breath and decided to start acting like an adult, and not a lovesick teenage girl. He concentrated on Vail, and the problems he was encountering with the account. A lot of the original promotional decisions had been made, in house, by non-qualified people with big ideas, before someone had had the business sense to hire him. These people were emotionally attached to their ideas, resenting his presence and not open to hearing any criticism, taking everything very personally. Brian did not deal well with stupidity, so the situation was a powder keg.

They had a logo drawn on a cocktail napkin by the boyfriend of one the principles whose only qualification was that he could put on eyeliner. Why they would think it even stood a chance against one drawn by Sam, one of the best in the business with twenty years experience, was beyond him. Yet, he’d been told several times not to bother presenting them with anything, because his was perfect. Sometimes, non-professionals did hit it right. Not this time… His snowman looked like the unnatural child of Chucky the murderous doll and the Michelin man.

They had this horrible concept of a discount pre-season that would completely remove the excitement of opening the new resort and give it a second class feel and reputation, and everything they had written so far had an awful campy feel to it, as if they were advertizing the Beaver Creek YMCA, and not one of its most beautiful, most prized location resorts…

He had an uphill battle ahead of him. In a way, the challenge made it all very exciting. The four and a half hour flight went quickly, as he worked on his presentation, examined each sentence he planned to utter so that it could not be misconstrued as mocking or devaluing, a sure way of raising everyone’s shackles. He landed in the small Eagle County Regional Airport. The day was very bright and sunny, the countryside showing the result of the lighter snowfall that year, almost 100 inches short of the normal average since September. Huge snow machines insured the slopes were all perfectly skiable, but the area was not quite postcard perfect. He travelled to the small town of Beaver Creek, ten miles west of Vail, by Mercedes four-wheel drive, though the road was new, wide and dry and could have been driven in his Corvette. There was no arguing the fact that the place was breathtaking, even in its slightly de-snowed state. The resort itself was close to the center of the valley, and yet felt wonderfully private, with a huge stone and pine entrance, and a very long driveway. The craftsman style buildings were nestled in the natural curves and crevasses of the terrain, giving it an air of having been there since the twenties.

He was welcomed by a small committee: Nelson Perry and his ‘artistic ‘ boyfriend Philip ‘Everybody calls me Pip’ Miller to whom they owed the hideous logo, Margene and Kate Armstrong, who both reminded him of Mel, and Rick Packman, the manager of the resort. They all seemed friendly and relaxed, and rightfully proud of what they had built. It had taken five years to raise the necessary funds, and two years to build, and both Kate and Nelson had sunk their entire assets in the enterprise, taking a huge personal risk, but showing investors they truly believed in the project.

They were as excited as kids giving him a tour. No effort or money had been spared to make this a first class resort. It truly was impressive. He got assigned a suite with a wide, very private balcony with an awesome view of the mountain. The furniture was made of raw pine, rustic but modern and comfortable, the bed gigantic, a large fireplace that was open on both the bedroom and the sitting room, a bathroom with a hot tub where an entire wall could be open to the balcony, and a private sauna. The room was equipped with high speed WIFI, the sitting room had a 50” flat screen TV, and the towels and sheets were the kind Brian would have chosen for the loft.

There was no extra fee for breakfast in the room, and you could call ahead and have your cleaned and waxed skis and your dried and warmed shoes and gloves ready for you when you went downstairs. There were two pools: an Olympic size one which continued outside and had a disappearing edge, for singles and couples, and another pool, even larger, with a river, a circular slide, a waterfall and other children’s games for families. Swimming lessons were available for children. There was a large ice skating rink outdoors, which also offered lessons, and a constant shuttle service to the center of Bear Creek.

There was a large space for a kid’s camp, to allow parents time to enjoy a bit of adult vacation. There was a bar reserved for singles, a romantic restaurant with only tables for two, and a family dining area. Finally there was a small dance club with a sitting room at the back that would have required an uncomfortable explanation had Brian not been gay himself. It was obviously reserved for adults with two official ladies’ nights. “During which tea is served in the back room,” joked Margene.

Honestly, Brian would have loved to come here with the Pittsburgh crowd. There was something for everyone, and plenty of meeting ground for mixed groups. He had seen plenty of pictures before, Phil and Spaz having been there almost a month ago to get stills and footage for brochures and commercials but they did not do the place credit. Spaz had decided he’d happily suck cock to get to spend time there, though Brian had his doubts on that one, even if it truly was awesome.

They had a light lunch, which was funny, because none of the cooking staff had arrived yet, and they had to do with good but simple sandwiches made by the future Kid’s Camp animator who had worked as a short order cook once upon a time. They were in the family dining room, and joined by a bunch of other people, from the inside landscaper, to the decorators, to the cleaning staff. The atmosphere was very convivial. Brian could see how their first attempt at advertising could lean to the campy. They were all having a wonderful time.

He sat next to Rick Packman, who turned out to be the one who had suggested they hire professionals for the promotion of the resort. He was pleasant, smart and remarkably good looking, tall, greenish blue eyes that called for attention between thick dark lashes, glossy dark brown shoulder length hair held in a ponytail and a charming smile. It was obvious from their talk that he was aware of the hurdles Brian was facing, but said that after meeting him he had no doubt he could overcome the general reticence.

At 2:00PM, Brian started his presentation. He had made a couple of last minute changes, but otherwise gave it as he had planned it and rehearsed it a hundred times, adopting the relaxed, friendly attitude of the others. He did not broach the thorny topic of the logo yet, just gave an honest and quite convincing spiel on the gross mistake of a discounted pre-season, acting as if he was giving these intelligent savvy people information they had not had when they had made that decision, instead of stressing their error in judgment.

“The main question is, will you be able to treat the discounted vacationers as you would full paying ones? No, you will not. The portions will be smaller, the services curtailed, not all activities available. They will go home and say: “It was fantastic for the price we paid, but certainly not worth a penny more. Thank god we got to experience it at a discount. We would have been very disappointed if we had paid full price.” They will tell their friends, “Wait until the next discount, it’s not worth it otherwise.” On the other hand, if you do treat them as full paying customers, you will lose about $150,000.00 per month. And they will still go home and tell their friends to wait for the next discount because it was such an unbelievable value.

“You will be much better off opening at full price, filling only to one third capacity, and spoiling the customers. They will go home and tell their friends it was pricey, but absolutely worth it. You will neither lose nor make money, but you will work out the kinks and will be able, come September, to start the season with a bang, and if you and I both do our job right, fully booked for the 06/07 Season.”

He could tell a lot of them had not thought about all the ramifications and he seemed to have them convinced them. What a relief…

“You have shown us your vision of what the brochures, the paper ads and the commercials should contain, but you have not talked about our logo, the image that will represent us in everyone’s eyes.” That was Kate Armstrong who had told him jokingly that she hated the damn snowman drawn by Pip.

Brian wished she had let the thing go for today. They could have kept that can of worms for the next day… But put on the spot, he took a deep breath and jumped off that cliff. Pip, Nelson and quite a few others were reflexively adopting a crossed arms position, physically indicating they were not receptive to any discussion on the subject.

“The snowman concept is a cute one. It emphasizes the family friendly aspect of the operation,” said Brian.

The logo, as drawn appeared on the screen, almost three feet in diameter showing every flaw in the drawing, including where the ink had bled into the paper. At that size, it was god-awful.

“We cleaned it up.” The image now showed the drawing without the ink bleeds, and with unconnected lines finished and even in thickness. It was , of course still god-awful.

“If we keep the original, we will be unable to use the font our research showed people responded the best to.”

He showed the text in the modern, cool, hip font the entire presentation had been made in to get them to identify it as their font. Next to the bleeding ink snowman, it looked ridiculous.

“We tried the paper napkin background look for the whole thing.” Now an image came up of the entire front of the brochure done in uneven bleeding marker, which matched the snowman perfectly, but looked… like a slightly inebriated guy with so-so handwriting had written it. “We also tried the cleaned up version with the font.” Another image came up. The brochure looked incredibly smart, the logo as if it had been drawn by a child.

“We searched for the font that best matched the cleaned up logo.” A third image came up, the whole thing in a child’s handwriting. It actually matched, and looked ok, for a grade school newsletter.

“We felt that if this resort was going to be only family oriented, it might have worked, but thinking about the other two groups we are trying to attract, we just didn’t think it was working. So… We reworked the entire Snowman concept, since all of you seemed very attached to that idea, used the font we think is best, and matched the logo to the font.”

On one screen was the front of the brochure, looking fabulous. The Snowman, reworked by Sam, was friendly, cheeky, and wearing skis. The Bear Creek skyline, with its snowy peaks was in the background at sunset, the sky rainbow colored. Big fluffy snowflakes were falling. On the other screen was the Logo, once again three feet in diameter, looking fantastic. It became obvious the snowflakes were the gay male/male symbols, and the lesbian female/female symbols. In his heart of hearts, Brian thought if they had not been compelled to stick with the snowman and if Justin had worked on the Logo, they could have done even better, but of course he always thought Justin could do better. He smiled. It was damned good as it was, and would make wonderful key chains, embroidery for hats and clothing, and pins for lapels.

In the next image, he showed a table service with a reduced logo, just the peaks and the rainbow sky, versus the same table service with the bleedy snowman, the next one an embroidered hat with both side by side, the last one with the full logos on the car doors of a Mercedes. Obviously, it was no contest and he felt bad for Pip. He looked in his direction, and was surprised to find him smiling, and speaking in Nelson’s ear.

Then Pip said aloud, “It is so cool the way you were able to rework my itty-biddy drawing into such a fantastic concept. You kept the sense of fun, and the original idea, and made it look amazing. Thank you, guys, I’m sure it wasn’t easy… I, for one, love it, and the set of dishes is fantastic. The rainbow! What a cool touch to add a little pride in there.”

Nelson put his arm around Pip, and kissed his cheek. Brian felt very much like doing the same. It takes a lot to accept defeat so incredibly gracefully, and his estimate of the flamboyant man went up by about 100%. Once Pip was on board, everybody else who had been so set on his snowman logo accepted his version of the facts and jumped ship. The battle was over before it really started, and Brian was incredibly relieved.

After that there was a long Q and A session, since everyone in the resort had shown up, and they were still functioning in a very democratic mode. Brian was glad he was so well prepared, and was able to bring everyone on board for his plan for the promotion of the resort. He felt very good, having no doubt they were going to be a huge financial success. He was feeling high on life when he left to go back for a rest in his room, before hitting the town with Rick Packman.

He called Justin.

“Justin Taylor.” Brian smiled.

“Hey. How are you?”

“Fine. I’m painting.” He could hear the smile in Justin’s voice. “How is it going?”

“Really well. I changed their minds about the discount, and they’ve accepted Sam’s Logo.”

“Oh, well done. That can’t have been easy.”

“Sam’s suggestion to show the logos side by side in a non-judgmental manner and let them decide for themselves worked. The guy who’d done the drawing in the first place was the first one to speak up in favor of the new design. After that it was a piece of cake.”

“Wow. Good on him. Sometimes it’s hard to retreat gracefully.”

“Yes. He actually reminds me of Emmett.”

“And though Emmett would never think so, coming from you, that is high praise indeed…”

“It’s very nice here, Sunshine. We ought to come back next winter for a week or so.”

“On vacation? Really? That would be so cool! We could go alone for a few days, then have the girls and Gus join us, what do you say?”

Brian had been thinking romance, but that way they’d have a taste of both romance, and time with Gus. It sounded really good.

“Sounds great, Justin. It’s such a waste to be here without you. I have this gigantic bed, a hot tub, a shower for two, a sauna…”

“Sounds like a very nice room.”

“The décor would be very improved by your naked self walking around…”

Justin laughed happily. “I’m sure you can probably picture me there if you lie naked on your bed with your eyes closed…”

Brian chuckled. “I suspect so. Not right now though. Rick, the hotel manager, is going to show me the town… But I’ll call you back tonight…”

“I can’t wait.”

“How is your painting?”

“Mysterious. I still don’t know where it’s going. It’s taking forever. But it is beautiful. I’m taking my time. I have all the paintings I need, plus one. I’m not stressing. By the way, Sandoval brought the briefcase to the loft this morning. I went with him to your bank and deposited the money back. Thank god they have those little bill counting machines. The cashier was a little freaked.” He chuckled. “I added the interest for the eight days, and I have the receipts. We can tear up the note when you get home.”

That was so much like Justin, insisting on paying the interest on the money. But he had asked Brian for it, and that’s all that counted… Brian thought about Friday, then worked hard not to think about Friday, until Justin said, “I can’t stop thinking about Friday,” in a voice that left no doubt which part of Friday he was thinking of. Brian was instantly hard. “God, Sunshine… Me too. Fuck, now I need a cold shower before I go out.”

“Nah, make it a warm shower and think of me… I miss you, Brian.”

“I miss you too. Later…”

“Later.”

Brian did take a warm shower, and thought of Justin, and not only about the fact that on Friday night they would be doing it raw. There were a lot of wonderful things to anticipate about that night… By the time Rick came for him, he was dressed warmly and casually, and feeling quite relaxed.

They went to a bar to have a beer and play pool, and another to listen to some live music. They had a lot in common, both still in touch with longtime friends, both loving the club scene, both having made their way from humble beginnings to the top of their chosen field. Rick was excellent company. Brian felt a bit as if he was hanging out with Todd or Steve.

On the way back, he started thinking about calling Justin again. It was two hours later in New York, and Justin would be in bed and asleep, but expecting his call. It had started snowing, big fat flakes, and the weather service predicted an overdue half a foot before morning. Rick and he had made plans to go and ski before lunch. By the time they got off on the floor where most of the people at the hotel were lodged, he couldn’t wait to get naked and in bed with his phone, talking to Sunshine.

It, therefore, came as a total surprise when the second he had opened his door, Rick pushed him in with a hand grabbing his crotch and every intention of kissing him.

Brian backed away from him as if he’d been scolded. He noted, a little late, that Rick was sporting an impressive erection, and looked awfully surprised.

“What’s wrong? Did I misread you? The second I talked about going back you were hard, and you’ve been hard ever since… I thought we hit it off. What’s the problem?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been totally oblivious. I got hard thinking of coming back because I’m going to call my boyfriend and we're going to have phone sex. You are a super nice guy, but it didn’t even occur to me…”

“Well now that it occurs to you, what do you say? It would be a lot more fun than phone sex…”

Brian chuckled. “You don’t know my boyfriend. Thanks, but no thanks. We are in a monogamous relationship. I’m not interested.”

“I hate to say that, but you don’t strike me as the type. You carry yourself like a …club top, if you know what I mean.”

“I do. I was. I’m not anymore. I met my match. I love him. I have no desire to be with anyone else. Believe me, no one was more shocked than me. But it’s the simple truth. He is… everything to me. Now that I’m paying attention, I can see how good looking and sexy you are, but it’s an observation, nothing more. Just like I can look at Margene and see that she is a total knockout. No further interest whatever. Sorry.”

“Fuck. He must really be something.”

Brian pictured Sunshine jerking off standing up a couple weeks ago, and laughed. “Yes. He is really something.”

“All right, man. Sorry. See you in the morning. Don’t worry, no hard feelings.”

“Good. I’m sorry too. Goodnight.”

He closed the door and leaned against it. Wow. This was it, wasn’t it. This was the path he had chosen to follow with Justin. Two more days and there would be no going back. Is that really what he wanted? Who would it have hurt if he had fucked Rick? He had pushed for this, decided a cold night in Pittsburgh that it was what he wanted, and encouraged Justin to follow him there.

There would be only one man for him for the rest of his life. One cock, one ass, one mouth, one tongue. It was insane, if he thought of it that way. But if he thought, only Justin, only Justin’s cock, only Justin’s ass, only Justin’s mouth, only Justin’s tongue, his heart started beating with the excitement of it, swelling with the joy of it, making him want to laugh out loud with happiness. He couldn’t wait. He wanted it more than anything in the world. His besheert. There was not a doubt in his mind.

Smiling, he stripped naked, and dialed the loft.

A very sleepy voice answered, “What are you wearing?”

He grinned. “Nothing but a huge boner.”

“We must shop at the same place. So do I…”

Twenty-five minutes and a quick shower later, Brian went to sleep with a smile. He woke up in a winter wonderland. Almost a foot of snow had fallen in the night. It was gorgeous. He got out his work camera and shot a ton of pictures before breakfast. He did some interviews of some of the staff, of one of the ski instructors who was going to be the head of the entire ski division, of the man who would be responsible for the kids’ camp, of Rick, as hotel manager. He was glad that his conversation with Rick was not awkward. Yesterday’s little scene could have caused a lot of problems.

They even went and skied together at lunchtime, as they had discussed. It had been quite a while for Brian, but the skis he was loaned were great, the snow perfect, and Rick, who had worked as a guide in the area in the summers and a ski instructor in Vail in the winters during college and graduate school was a great ski companion. They left under a pristine blue sky. By 2:00PM, they were back. A thick layer of clouds had rolled in, and it had started to snow heavily again. Everyone was excited. It meant a couple more months to the season. They would advertise heavily in the next two weeks, and open for Easter. If it kept snowing, they might be able to stretch it even more.

By six, there was no visibility outside, the temperature had plummeted, and they were facing a veritable blizzard. The predictions were it would last until early morning. They assured Brian that no matter the thickness of the snow, getting to the airport would not be a problem. Once again he called home before going to sleep. He loved it here, but couldn’t wait to get back. At three in the morning, there was a knock on the door. It was Rick and Nelson.

“Brian, how badly do you need to get out before Sunday?” asked Nelson.

“It’s absolutely essential that I make it back to Pittsburgh by lunchtime Friday,” he answered.

“Told you,” said Rick to Nelson.

“Fuck,” said Nelson. “What do you mean by essential?”

Brian told him exactly what he meant.

“Holy fucking shit. You gotta get out now. The airports will be closed by morning. They are talking 44 inches in the next 48 hours. If you don’t get out now, you’re not getting out. As it is, it’s really iffy, but Rick here says he can swing the 25 miles to Eagle Regional. They should be able to helicopter you out. I’ll make some calls to try to clear the way. Dress as warmly as you can, we’ll loan you a snow rescue suit to go on top. Leave everything behind, we’ll send it on later. You’re going by snowmobile. See you downstairs in ten minutes.”

Brian could not believe it, but complied. Wool tights, wool socks, silk undies, wool undershirt, sweater, sky suit, wool scarf and hat which only left a slit for the eyes, big snow boots, silk gloves, ski gloves. He met a bunch of people in the lobby. Pip loaned him his snowboots that were actually heated, they helped him into the rescue suit and goggles, and put a helmet on him. The snowmobile had heated over-gloves. They were looking at possibly a two-hour ride minimum, each on a snowmobile. Brian had a ten-meter visibility, and they has walky-talky inside their helmets. At 3:30, they were off.

At first, Brian was not too worried. The road was still somewhat identifiable, but soon, they were in total darkness except for their headlights and brake lights, and the terrain was completely unidentifiable to him, just snow everywhere, in bumps, valleys and drifts. Rick never hesitated. He had a GPS, and years of experience. Very hot at first, soon Brian was grateful for every layer on his back. He had no idea what the temperature was, but he was quite sure he had never been out in such cold before, never mind while riding the equivalent of a large motorcycle.

“How are you doing so far?” asked Rick.

“All right. It’s fucking cold, but I’m ok. I can see you just fine.”

“Great. It’s about to get bumpy. Don’t go too fast, and don’t lean too much in the curves. Let me know if you need to stop. Don’t be an idiot. We could die out here.”

“No worries. I’m very motivated to staying alive…”

Rick laughed. “I definitely have to meet this guy, you know that, right?”

Bumpy was not just an expression. He was going to need a serious lower back massage when he got home. He started losing Rick’s brake lights occasionally, and after a scary ten seconds in the dark, called him.

“I’m losing your lights, Rick.”

“Ok. Catch me up. We’ll try to stay side by side.”

Brian was shocked to realize Rick had only been about six or seven meters ahead. Visibility was incredibly bad. They went on for a while side by side.

“Things should smooth over, and we'll have some occasional lights. This is the highway.”

It was indeed better for a very short while, then it seemed like the highway actually channeled the wind and snow right in their faces, and they lost all visibility. They had to get off, and ride cross-country. It seemed to Brian they had been going for three hours but it was in fact about one and a half hours when his snowmobile coughed and stopped. Rick stopped, came to him and tried to start it again.

“The fuel line is frozen,” he said. “You’ll have to ride behind me.” He grabbed a bag from the back of Brian’s snowmobile and they just abandoned it as Brian hopped behind Rick. He could tell they were going slower, but at least he wasn’t so cold, and didn’t have to constantly concentrate. Another half hour later, it was Rick’s snowmobile’s turn to hiccup and die. Rick tried vainly to start it again, and passed the bag he had removed from Brian’s snowmobile to him.

“Put these on. We have to go on foot. We only have two kilometers to go.” They were snowshoes. Off they went into the blizzard, holding a bit of rope between them. It was hard going, but they were both in shape, for which Brian had never been so grateful. They seemed to walk forever, one foot in front of the other, the wind cutting through all the layers of clothing, the snow accumulating on the goggles until he had to clean them every few minutes.

Despite the strenuous exercise, he was starting to feel the cold. He was incredibly grateful to Pip for his heated boots. It was getting harder and harder to catch his breath, and he could tell he had slowed down a lot, but no matter how hard he tried he seemed unable to move faster. Rick seemed to be in the same boat. He was no longer looking ahead, instead, looking at his feet and telling himself, ‘One more step, Brian, one more step…’

Finally, just when the lethal desire to stop and take a rest sitting in the snow was about to win, they could see some powerful lights. They’d made it to the airport. There was a helicopter in the middle of the single landing strip, and Rick did not hesitate, but went straight for it.

“Whatever bullshit Nelson had to say to get us on this,” he said, panting heavily, “you go along with it, OK? He has a lot of imagination.”

They made it to the door of the rescue helicopter and banged on it. It was opened by a stressed looking young man. “Senator Drake, sir,” he said to Brian. “We were getting extremely worried. We expected you an hour ago. We weren’t sure you were going to make it before we had to take off.”

“Thanks for waiting,” said Brian. “My aide and I really have to get out of here…”

“It must be an important vote you have to cast in Washington to take such a risk, sir.”

“Sometimes, a vote seems benign to outsiders, but is part of a much more important deal made behind the scenes. Thank you again. If you don’t mind, Rick and I need to relax now. Where are you taking us?” The helicopter was lifting off, in a dreadful blizzard.

“The storm is moving South-East, sir. You are going to have to go north of it to make it to Washington. Denver Airport is shut down. We are taking you to Cheyenne, Wyoming, about an hour flight from here. They are having some snow, but nothing like here. From there you can go on to Pierre in South Dakota, and from Pierre to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Then you can fly pretty much anywhere.”

“Excellent, thank you.” They both collapsed in seats in the back of the helicopter, and looked at each other, laughing. They put on the headsets and spoke in “Private “ mode.

“Senator Drake?” asked Brian.

“Pip’s brother-in-law. Senator from Illinois, Democrat.”

“Jesus…”

“Surprisingly, when Pip is on a mission, he is unstoppable. The whole resort was his idea, supported by Nelson’s money, at first. I think your story touched a romantic cord in him. Don’t worry, I’m sure he spoke to Simon, the Senator. He owes Pip a few favors. It’ll be all right. You’re going to spend your day flying, though.”

“I really don’t care. I owe you big time.”

“Yeah. It was iffy there for a second. I’m just glad my fuel line lasted as long as it did. We couldn’t have snowshoed much further. It was fucking cold.”

He sat back, looking satisfied.

“What are you going to do in Cheyenne?”

“I don’t know. Go to a hotel and watch porn on satellite until the storm is over? I’ve never been to Cheyenne, so what the hell…”

Brian turned on his palm pilot to see what appointments he was going to miss that afternoon. A photo of himself and Justin, taken a while back by Brandon on his cell phone came up. He smiled and passed his palm pilot to Rick.

“Cute but…Brian, how old is he?”

Brian grinned. “How old do you think he is?”

“Fuck. He looks about…eighteen.”

“I know. There are times where he looks even younger… He’s twenty-three, actually.” He looked at the photo a while longer. “I can’t wait to get home,” he said, mostly to himself, but the mike picked it up and Rick laughed at him.

“Man, you got it bad.”

Brian shrugged and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.”

They actually hugged as they parted in Cheyenne. Brian was very clear on the fact that he owed the man his life, as well as the chance to be home in time for the most important day of his life.

Cheyenne and Pierre were small regional airports where, luckily, he only got to spend about an hour each. He called Sunshine to tell him he was going to be a little later than expected.

“They said the Denver airport was closed. I thought for sure you were stuck for a couple of days!”

“Nah. Just a delayed rerouted flight. I’ll be home tonight. I’m arriving from Minneapolis around eight. I’ll be home by a quarter to nine at the latest. I’ll see you when you come home from Pratt. Later.”

“I’m so glad you’re coming home. Later.”

He was lugging half his clothes in a plastic bag. He never thought he would be relieved to land in Minneapolis. He had a three hour layover and went straight to the Hugo Boss store in the shopping area. He bought a complete outfit, from socks and underwear, to a shirt and tie and pants, and finally a leather jacket and ankle boots. Carrying it all in a large bag, still in his sky pants and snow boots, he went to the Barber and Stylist at the airport, and gave the hairdresser on duty $100.00 to use their laundry room to wash himself. The hairdresser was accommodating. He went and got a plastic tube and showerhead they had from the time they’d had problems with the shampoo chair, and pointed to the drain in the middle of the floor.

“Just attach it to the tap and take a shower. I’ll bring you some Aveda products. I’ll do your hair and shave you when you come out.”

It was cramped, and Aveda was no Decleor, but once he had dried himself with six of the minuscule towels the hairdressers use he felt like a new man. He changed into his new clothes, and shoved all his warm clothing into the giant Boss bag. He had a shave and a trim, and went to the Tumi store to buy a small bag for his clothes. He packed and dropped Pip’s boots at the post office, mailing them back to him with a thank you note. At 5:30, he took a direct flight to New York.

He landed at 8:05. He was pretty worn out, and glad he didn’t have to wait for luggage. As he left the plane, a really cute blond was waiting at the gate, with a huge, happy smile on his face, and Brian forgot his weariness. They kissed right there in the middle of other people rejoining friends and loved ones, and did not give a rat’s ass that they were getting both curious and dark looks.

Justin took his bag from him, and they walked to the taxi area with their arms around each other. Brian consciously analyzed how he was feeling, that Justin had made the effort to come greet him, not knowing what Brian had had to do to be there at all, but just to be nice and surprise him. He felt loved, and appreciated, and so damn happy. They got in a cab, and Brian held Justin, kissing his sweet smelling hair, the top of his ear, his jaw, his neck, as Justin came up in his embrace and purred under his demonstration of affection.

Then Justin turned his face to him, and their mouths met. Brian savored the elasticity of his lips, their softness, before passing the tip of his tongue between them. Justin opened to him, welcoming him as he always did, accepting the invasion of his mouth with a sigh of pleasure, letting Brian play as he would, softly answering the caresses of his tongue. Brian wanted to fuck him so bad, he actually gave half a thought to the logistics of doing so in the cab. When they stopped in front of the door, and Justin paid, he was so impatient he wanted to just drag him upstairs.

He started undressing him in the elevator, taking off his jacket and his blue hoody. He was unbuttoning his fly as Justin dialed the codes for the door and for the alarm. Justin laughed and stepped out of his pants and removed his t-shirt as soon as they were in.

“The back of the couch,” said Brian as he started getting his new clothes off. He was treated to the sight of Justin bent over, waiting for him, and chuckled when he realized Justin had balanced a condom and a tube of lube on his lower back. Justin looked back at him with his sexy horny innocent smile, and Brian walked over, putting on the condom and lubing it, his efficiency showing years of practice, then pushing the head of his cock slowly inside Justin, feeling him open like a flower for him, welcoming him in his soft tight heat just like he welcomed his tongue in his mouth.

“Brian, Brian, Brian…”

Fully seated, Brian lay his torso on top of Justin for a second, needing the contact, the closeness, the touch of the soft warm skin. He kissed Justin’s neck, and lightly bit his shoulder before standing back up and starting to move. He came out almost all the way, and sank back in as deep as he could, and kept doing it again and again, slowly at first, then faster as Justin started panting under him as his orgasm approached. He wanted to make Justin come just from his cock, and sped up a little more, loving Justin’s sounds and his disjointed talk.

“Deep… good…so deep… yeah…like that…Brian, Brian… fucking perfect, ahhh, yeah, faster, oh god… deep, humm, yeah… close… oh, Brian… oh god… here… don’t stop… now… now… Brian!!!”

Brian caught the hot come in his hand. He started pumping faster and shallower into Justin’s ass as he licked Justin’s come off his hand, and came hard, pumping in and out the whole time, thinking, one man, this man, forever…

He lay on top of Justin again, and whispered in his ear, “Say it, Justin, say it…”

“I missed you while you were gone. I hated our bed without you. Brian, I love you. I love you.”

Brian stood back up and pulled Justin to him. Justin turned in his embrace and they kissed.

“It was very nice there, Sunshine, but it’s so good to be home.”

Justin smiled. “I know it’s early, but can we go to bed? I want to feel your body next to mine.”

“I’m bushed. Going to bed sounds just about perfect.”

Ten minutes later, their nightly ablutions finished, they were in bed, spooning. Justin giggled. “Oops. It just feels so good. I can’t contain myself.”

Brian chuckled. “Two nights without me to keep you warm. Poor Sunshine.”

“It was horrible,” said Justin in a sepulchral voice. “ I cried myself to sleep, cried all night actually, woke up with soaked pillows, had to have a couple of bottles of Evian in the morning just to rehydrate. And I was so cold, there were icicles on my nipples and on my cock, and no one here to suck them off. My asshole actually considered closing up altogether, some kind of asshole suicide, it felt so useless.” He giggled again. “Sorry. I’m being totally goofy. I’m so glad you are home, it’s pretty ridiculous…”

Brian kissed him behind the ear and hugged him tight in response.

“Oh, Brian. I almost forgot. Jessica called, and she wants us to come to dinner tomorrow night, she called it ‘a little celebration before the big expo’. She had invited Brandon and Todd already, and sounded so excited. I know you and I have plans tomorrow night. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t disappoint her. I told her we’d be there. It’s pretty early; she said to be there by six-thirty, so I think we won’t be home too late. The only problem is that I’m going to have a hard on the entire time…”

Brian was glad Justin could not see his shit-eating grin. “If it goes on too long, I’ll pretend to fall asleep, and you can make our excuses.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah. I’m sure they would all believe that. I think it will be a lot more credible if I pretend to fall asleep, and you make our excuses.”

“You have a point.” Then seriously, he added, “Are you ready, Justin? Are you sure this is what you want? No condom means you only get to be with me. One man, one cock, one ass, one mouth, one tongue, always the same for the rest of your life.”

“Said like that it sounds dreadful, you know? But I think only Brian, only Brian’s cock, only Brian’s ass, only Brian’s mouth, only Brian’s tongue, for the rest of my life… and it makes me so happy. It makes my heart sing. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. I love you, Brian. Yes, this is what I want, what I’ve been waiting for since the night we first made love. I know it was supposed to only be a fuck. But it was love to me…”

“All right then. Let’s get tested in the morning, and hope it will all be OK.” They were quiet for a few minutes.

“Brian? What if it’s not OK? What if one of us is positive?”

“Then one of us starts treatment, and we use condoms for the rest of our life. I love you, Justin. If you’re positive, it will change nothing. And if I am, I hope you will still love me too.”

“I love you forever, Brian. No matter what.“

“Good.” Brian went from awake to asleep in a second, the day finally catching up with him. He had the best dream. Justin was explaining to Jason that he did not worry about people invading his private life anymore, because he painted under the name Taylor, but his real name was now Justin Kinney, so no one would find him. Justin Taylor could definitely move to a small island in the Pacific. He had no worries about being found out…


To be continued...
 

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