Part 1
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Trinkets of Deceit
Summary: When Stuart met Brian.
Warnings: None
Author Notes:
Spoilers: None. I broke off somewhere between Russell's episodes 5 and 6 and never really returned to his story. Nothing in here will ruin either series for you.
To: StuartAJones@Thrive.uk.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
Hi, bunny!
Your flight's all set. I had the travel cookies here take care of it for you. First class all the way, baby--nothing's too good for my Stuey. You're on British Midland flight number 1385 on Thursday morning the 12th, connecting in London to American Airlines
flight number 101 and then on to JFK. Sorry about the connection--there are no direct flights! What's THAT about? Anyway, BM 1385 leaves Manchester International Airport at 7:30am because I know what a great morning person you are (lol) and you arrive in NYC at 3:20pm, East Coast time. So set your watch on the plane.
I'll pick you up and take you directly to the nearest bar.
I cannot wait to see you!! It's been six whole weeks!!
************
To: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com From: StuartAJones@Thrive.uk.com
7:30am!!! You fucking bastard CUNT! I have to be at the airport no later than 6:00am to get that flight!!!
That's it, fuck off. I'm not coming.
***********
To: StuartAJones@Thrive.uk.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
See you at JFK.
**********
To: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
Whassssuuupp???
Are you still coming to town for that magazine ad conference in two weeks?
***********
To: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com From: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com
Yeah. Did you get out of that dumbass thing?
************
To: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
You know me, I'm slippery. Pawned it off on the other VP in my department. Anyway, Groovy! That's what I thought. Why don't you stay with me--Richard's gone that weekend and Stuart's coming in from Manchester. Remember him? My cute little Irishman from the UK office?
It'll be a party at Casa Stephani. Say yesssss . . .
*************
To: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com From: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com
Stuart, huh? With boyfriend in tow?
*************
To: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
Perv. What do you care? But, no, Vince isn't coming. I'm just talking hanging out and having some laughs. It wasn't an invitation to a sexual bacchanal.
**************
To: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com From: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com
Then why would I come? If you're not going to get me laid, what's the point?
***************
To: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
Get yourSELF laid, ass. Just stay with me.
*************** To: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com From: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com
`kay. I come in on that Friday night commuter flight into LaGuardia. I'll cab it to you. Be there by 9:00.
I'll bring the worms.
*************** To: BrianKinney@Pittserv.com From: KatherineStephani@Thrive.nyc.com
Rockin'!
The worms will be disappointed, though. No more room in my bra since the surgery (32DDD)!!
See ya in two weeks! Chat with you tomorrow.
***************
Poison Apple (Part One)
Stuart:
Standing by the door at 5:30 that Thursday morning, he took one more look through his bag to make sure he'd packed everything. Vince crept out of the bedroom rubbing his eyes sleepily. He was wrapped in the white comforter and Stuart knew his
lover was naked under there. They'd had sex four times the night before in an attempt to keep Stuart's appetite down before he traveled. Seeing Vince all spent and disheveled from such rigorous sexual activity served only to inflame Stuart's desire again.
"Come here," he said, meeting Vince half way across the floor. He wrapped his arms around his sleepy lover and cuddled him. "Change your mind," Stuart said in his ear. "Come with me."
"No," Vince groaned. He put his arms around Stuart, wrapping them both in the comforter. As they stood there swaying gently in each other's arms, a car horn bleated out in front of the building.
"That's my cab, luv. I've gotta go." Stuart lifted Vince's face and kissed him for the millionth time in the last twenty-four hours.
"Call me when you get there, okay?" Vince said.
"First thing." Stuart smiled into those gentle blue eyes and then he shouldered his bag. "See you in five days," he said, crossing over to the door.
"Stuart."
With the doorknob in hand, he turned around. "What, luv?"
"If you decide . . ." Vince trailed off.
Frowning, Stuart said, "decide what?"
Vince sighed. "If you decide to cop off with someone, just don't tell me about it. All right? I mean, if you don't tell me, I probably won't ever know. That way it doesn't have to be a problem."
Stuart's jaw tightened and he looked down. He didn't have time for this conversation and he resented Vince starting it at that moment. The cab driver honked again, impatiently. "I'll call you when I get to Kate's," he said, a bit wearily. "I love you. I'll miss you like mad. And I'm not gonna cop off with anyone, Vince. I just want to spend a few days with my friend." He went out the door and closed it solidly behind him, trotting down the stairs to the lobby.
* * *
Kate:
Stuart's plane is delayed and I'm sitting at the gate talking to Brian on my cell phone. He's still at work and we'd been making some plans for the weekend.
"What flight are you on tomorrow?" I ask.
"I'm taking the 7:30. Are you on that shitty Erickson phone? I can barely hear you."
"You can't hear me because you're on that fucking headset and all you can hear is your own goddamned voice," I say. I hate that headset. He sounds like he's shouting down a subway tunnel.
I hear a lot of clicking on his end and I know he's switching over to the handset. He heaves that typical annoyed sigh. "You are such a pain in my ass, Katey."
"I thought gay men liked that sort of thing."
"I'm a top, remember? How long is the flight from Manchester?"
"Ten and a half. First class or not, he'll be beat." I look out the window to see the American Airlines jet rolling up to the gate. "Anyway, here's the plane. I'll see you tomorrow, honey."
"Have fun with your Irishman. Bye." Brian hangs up and I pocket my phone, standing up and having a stretch. I'm pretty beat, myself, after working extra hard that week so I'd feel less guilty about taking Friday and Monday off.
I'm loitering around the gate with the other people who are waiting there to pick someone up and I start to get giddy. My Stuart's here in NYC! I can't believe how excited I am. We've been talking and emailing every day since I came back from Manchester,
just getting closer and closer to each other. I haven't had a friend whose company I enjoyed as much as his in ages. Maybe never, come to think of it. Guess that makes me self-absorbed.
I must admit I'm a little bit worried about having him and Brian in the same house because they're both sort of . . . sexaholics, for lack of a better word. And they're both gay. But Stuart has been telling me all about how things have been going with him and
Vince lately and I think he'll be all right. They're going to have wedding in a few months. Well, that is if Vince agrees. The last conversation Stuart and I had before he left to come here was about this big romantic proposal he's planning. I keep telling him he's the real bride, but he swears it's Vince. Stuart is actually a bit nervous that his lover won't agree to a legal pair bond. He's not sure Vince will say yes. Imagine that! I keep telling him he's crazy.
Weary travelers start filing off the plane and my eyes are darting among their faces, looking for Stuart. Finally I see him, looking quite rested and no worse for the wear. In fact, he looks great in his black turtleneck and chinos, black leather Hugo Boss jacket
and his slick carry-on bag. I notice his shiny black curls are still on the long side. Definitely Vince's doing, that.
"Hi, bunny!!" I run at him and he scoops me up, squeezing me tight. He's damned strong from someone so lean and agile. Like a panther.
We kiss and hug some more, blocking the foot traffic off the plane like a couple of self-absorbed jerks. I guess if the shoe fits.
"You look fantastic," I tell him.
He just grins, hooking my waist with his arm and walking with me across the waiting area. "I need a cocktail," he says.
"Bad flight?"
"No, it was fine. I just need to be drunk."
I frown. "You shouldn't NEED to be drunk, hon. You should just WANT to. Did you and Vince fight?"
He shakes his head, that little crease appearing between his neat eyebrows. I wonder if he waxes them. "He just said something really . . . cryptic. He pissed me off just as I was leaving at fucking half five in the morning." He glowers at me, still pissy about the
departure time. I just grin.
"Okay. Then you need to call him right away and fix it. No black clouds allowed in my house. I just had the floors done." I smile and give him a cuddle. "Will your phone work internationally?"
"Yeah, but I don't want to talk to him now. I'll call him later. I'm serious about that cocktail."
That's my Stuart. "Let's go to Palio. It's in Rockefeller Center and they make great drinks. You'll like it."
"Fine. Whatever you want."
"Tired?"
"No, I'm fine." Stuart kisses my cheek and all of a sudden I'm just thrilled to death that he's there. I've missed his little face so much.
* * *
Stuart:
The combination of jet lag and five martinis in a row made him very sleepy by half passed ten. He and Kate took a cab back to her townhouse and she set him up in a beautifully appointed guestroom across the hall from her own bedroom. The three-story
townhouse had five bedrooms all together, and a servants' quarters downstairs behind the kitchen that could also be used for guests if necessary. Stuart felt like he was staying at a posh hotel that just happened to be where his friend lived.
He took a long, hot shower then slipped into his pajama bottoms. Stretching out on the bed, he grabbed the phone on the night table--a line designated for his room--and called the long distance number to his flat.
* * *
Vince:
At 4:15 in the morning, the phone rang and Vince jolted awake. He rolled across the big empty bed and grabbed the cordless out of its stand, fumbling in the dark for the TALK button.
"Heh--loh?" he said, then cleared his throat and repeated it.
"Hiya."
"Oh, hiya." God, it would good to hear his voice. Vince sank down into the pillows and sighed. He could smell Stuart in the sheets and he ached all over. "You got in all right, I assume."
"Yeah. Were you sleeping?"
"Uh huh. What time is it there?"
"A bit after eleven. Sorry to wake you. I forgot about the time."
"It's all right," Vince said. "Call me anytime. I already miss you so much."
"I know." Stuart was quiet for a long moment, then he continued. "You pissed me off when I left, you know."
Vince was wide awake then, eyes open in the dark bedroom. He could hear the distance crackling on the line but it was a good connection and he could also hear his lover breathing. "I did?"
"You know you did. Why did you say that to me?"
Vince sighed. "Stuart, I just . . . wanted you to feel like you could . . . play if you wanted."
"You twat," Stuart snapped. "Why the hell would I do that? Do you WANT me to do that?"
"I just don't want you to feel like you can't, is all."
"That's completely stupid! Vince, you're my boyfriend, in case you forgot. That means we're meant to be faithful to each other. Is this your way of telling me you want to shag someone else while I'm gone?"
"Yeah," Vince said, a bit caustically. "I thought I'd ask Nathan `round."
Stuart was silent and then he started laughing. It was a soft chuckle at first that rolled itself into a full-blown howl in two seconds flat. "Oh my God," he said. "You are so fucking sad sometimes."
Vince smiled, chuckling himself. "I'm sorry I upset you, Stuart. I meant to do the exact opposite."
"Well, you didn't think it through, you daft git. Like I would DO that. Besides, Kate and I were out tonight walking in Times Square and I didn't see anyone I fancied. The men here are all so . . ."
"American?" Vince offered.
"Yeah. They're sort of . . . too perfect. Like they spend way too much time getting their hair done."
Vince breathed a laugh and rolled onto his side, pressing the phone between his ear and the pillow so he could hear Stuart breathing more clearly. "I miss you . . ." he whispered.
"I miss you, too. Are you naked?"
"No. I'm wearing a pair of your shorts--out of the laundry."
Stuart groaned and laughed softly. "God, I'm going to explode not being able to shag you for four days!"
"Well, you'd better call me for phone sex," Vince purred.
"You can count on that. I'll call you at the store and make you go into the men's and have a wank with me on the phone."
Vince laughed. "Oh my God, don't you dare. You'll get me sacked." In the background, he could hear a knock and then he heard Kate's voice asking if it was him on the phone.
"Yeah, want to say hi?" Stuart said to her, then he must have handed over the receiver because Kate was on next.
"Hi, sweetie," she said.
"Hiya. Is he behaving?"
"Oh, yes. He's an old, boring married guy. How are you?"
"Fine. Is he drunk already?"
"A little," she said. "I think he's more jet-lagged and tired. He's struggling to keep his baby blues open."
"Well, you two have fun, all right? Help him remember to call me."
"Oh, I don't think he'll need reminding. He talked about nothing but you all night long. I promise I'll look after him, don't worry."
"Okay, then."
"Here he is." Vince could hear the phone being handed back to Stuart and then his lover was on the line again.
"I'm going to bed, all right?" Stuart said. "I'm dead."
"I'll bet. Sleep well, then. I love you."
"I love you. Talk to you tomorrow." And the line went dead in his ear.
Vince hung up the phone and snuggled into the covers that still smelled of his lover's body. He'd decided not to change the sheets until Stuart came home. That way, Vince could still sort of feel like he was sleeping with him. Breathing in deeply, Vince closed his
eyes and thought of Stuart's satiny skin and his lovely, hot kisses.
* * *
Stuart:
"Was he pissed about Brian coming?" Kate asked, sitting beside him in her pink chenille bathrobe. Her red hair was brushed away from her pretty face and braided gently down her back.
Rolling onto his back on the bed, Stuart looked at his friend curiously. "What?"
"Brian," Kate repeated. "You did remember he was coming."
"Yeah, but why would I have told Vince about that? He doesn't know Brian."
"You didn't tell him!" Kate said, her eyes bugging out. "Oh, Stuart. Why not?"
"I just said. Because Vince doesn't know Brian. Why would he care?"
She got up and walked toward the door, shaking her head. "You're going to get me in trouble with your sweetheart again," she said. "He's going to start thinking I'm the fucking anti-Christ."
"He won't," Stuart said. "I don't understand why you think I should have told him."
Kate lowered her chin and stared at him, flatly. "Stuey, you SAW Brian, right? His picture?"
Stuart shrugged, recalling the one photo he saw of Kate's friend. "Yeah."
"And you thought he was cute, right?"
"Yeah, he was nice, Kate. But it was only one photo."
She sighed. "Wait `til you see him in person. Brian radiates. He's . . . like you in a lot of ways, but he's more . . . ruthless. Less emotional. He's more of a machine. I just think there might be some, I don't know, sparks between you two. Yes, I should have
thought about that before I invited him down on the same weekend you were going to be here, but it was too late by the time it dawned on me."
"Katey," Stuart said, evenly. "I'm in love with my boyfriend. We're doing really well and we're completely into each other. I don't think your Brian is going to cause me any trouble. Really."
She pursed her lips as she started out the door. "I hope you're right, honey. I couldn't stand it if Vince hated me." She blew him a kiss and wished him good night, then she closed the door after her.
* * *
Brian:
He'd forgotten how much he dug the vibe in New York. All that pent up energy and frantic rushing. So many people moving around at all hours of the day or night. It was never quiet in Manhattan. Brian Kinney felt very much at home there.
Giving the cab driver a huge tip just for getting him to Kate's in one piece on a Friday night, Brian hauled his weekend bag out of the taxi's yellow trunk then trotted up the stairs to the front door of Casa Stephani. He rang the bell then stood over to the side,
looking directly into the lens of the security camera. Brian reached into one of the outside pockets of his bag and tugged out a plastic Ziplock. Opening it carefully, he reached inside and tweezed the slimy sides of a thick earthworm in his fingers. As he
heard footsteps approaching the door on the inside, he let the creature wriggle into his palm and he held it out in front of him.
Kate opened the door smiling happily, and then she clocked the worm and her expression dropped to one of bored disgust. But he knew better. She was totally grossed out.
Without a second's hesitation, Brian stepped right up to her and pulled at the front of her low-cut shirt, peering down into the `v' of her cleavage. "If your doctor told you those were triple D's, you got ripped off." He dropped the worm right down the front of
her shirt then grabbed her face and planted a big, noisy kiss on her lips.
Kate squirmed and flinched, holding her shirt away from her body and jumping around until the wiggling little tube of worm flesh plopped onto the cool tile floor of the entry way. She was screaming and laughing at the same time and she flailed her arms,
smacking him in the chest.
"ASSHOLE!! My God!!"
Brian barely broke a grin but inside he was cracking up to beat all hell. He set his bag down and picked up the dazed, twisting worm, dropping it back into the Ziplock. "I'll just hang on to this," he said. "In case you get lonely in bed without Richard."
Kate was laughing so hard, her eyes were watering and she wiped at them delicately with her fingers. "I hate you," she said, stepping up to give him a huge hug. "How was the commuter flight?"
"Crowded. Smelly." He held up the worm in the bag. "Found him in my complimentary beverage."
Kate laughed again, grabbing for the bag but missing it as Brian held it up out of her reach. Without the benefit of her customary high heels, he was a head and a half taller than her and she had no chance of reaching that bag.
"Uh uh--I said I was keeping it."
"Give me that disgusting thing," she demanded. "Did you bring that goddamned worm all the way from Pittsburgh?!"
He was about to make some crack about the worm being one of his new clients when someone stepped into the long entry hallway behind Kate. Brian recognized the guy instantly from his photo. The infamous Stuart Alan Jones from Manchester. He
was slighter in person than he'd looked in the pictures, and he was also way better looking. His eyes were dark blue and they sparkled like princess cut sapphires.
"What's all the screaming about?" he said in a soft, musical Irish accent.
Kate turned around when she heard him speak. Smiling brightly, she gestured toward Brian with her arm out like Vanna White displaying a vowel. "This is Brian and his future ex-husband," she said then peeled laughter into the echoey hallway.
He rolled his eyes, not bothering to favor her dumb joke with a laugh. "Ignore her. She's still pissed cuz someone dropped a house on her sister," he said. "I'm guessing you're Stuart. Hi. Brian Kinney." He stepped forward and extended the hand not holding the Ziplock bag. The handsome Irish lad had a firm grip that felt good in Brian's hand. You could tell a lot about a guy from his handshake and Brian liked this Stuart Jones right away.
"Pleasure," Stuart said. "Heard a lot about you, Brian."
"I'll bet. How was your flight over?"
"Not bad. Yours?"
Shrugging, Brian went back to his bag with the worm. "Those commuter flights aren't much more than winged cattle cars. At least they're short. Mrs. Stephani?"
"Yes?" Kate answered.
"I'm in need of an alcoholic libation."
"What would you like, deary?"
"Anything. I don't care. Whatever you guys are having."
"Stuart and I were just discussing Sour Apple Martinis," Kate said, lifting her eyebrows lasciviously. "Everyone game for a little forbidden fruit in a glass?"
"Yeah, we've already got the worm," Stuart said and then he grinned a saucy little grin that made Brian's balls ache.
Everyone was game for the martinis so Kate went off to the kitchen to make them. At the insistence of the hostess, Brian and Stuart retired to the livingroom and made themselves comfortable on the big, white sectional couch.
A fire blazed in the huge brick fireplace and the sweet smell of the burning cedar filled the large but cozy room. Brian always liked that room. The décor was feminine but still modern enough to escape being "girly". The room was very Kate.
He flopped on the couch, sprawling out full length on a section near the fire place and he sighed heavily. Stuart sat in the middle of the couch beside a soft flannel throw blanket. Apparently he and Kate had been sitting there together before Brian arrived. Cute.
Cuddling by the fire. Brian didn't know why, but he felt a pang of jealousy at the image.
Glancing back, he noted the hot Irishman's attire. Stuart wore black sweats and a pair of heavy, brick colored socks. His lean but well- cut torso shown nicely through a long-sleeved black t-shirt and Brian let his eyes wander hungrily over that very tight body.
"Are you circumcised?" he asked, testing the water with a shock tactic.
Stuart Jones didn't even flinch. "I'm not saying," he answered, batting his pretty eyes.
Brian rolled onto his belly and rested his chin in his hand. "Can I take a look?"
Stuart eyed him squarely, an ember of desire glinting in that gaze. "Nope," he said. "You'll just have to wonder."
Brian let his grin spread slowly across his face. "I fucked an Irish guy once. He had this wonderful, huge uncut cock." He demonstrated length and diameter with his hands. "It was great."
Stuart's grin deepened into a playful smirk. "Just because I'm Irish you assume I'm uncircumcised?"
"No," Brian said. "I just wondered. I like to nibble foreskin."
They stared at each other fixedly while the sound of ice rattling in the martini shaker drifted in from the kitchen.
Stuart crawled forward on the long couch, his shoulders arching gracefully like a big cat and he laid down on his belly right in front of Brian, mirroring his pose. "You DO know that I'm involved with someone, right?" He held up his left hand and flashed a sweet
platinum ring.
"Vince, isn't it?" Brian said.
"Right. Vince." Stuart stayed where he was and didn't say anything more.
Brian's eyes shamelessly toured Stuart's back, checking out his well- shaped ass and lean, defined legs. "You have a great body," he said.
"I know," Stuart said, grinning. "But I'm still involved."
"You mentioned that," Brian pointed out. "Should that mean something to me?"
Stuart chuckled at him, obviously enjoying this frank flirtation. He looked down briefly and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered. "Yes, it should. It means we're not having each other."
"Oh, yeah?" Brian asked, his brow lifting. "Are you sure that's what it means? Cuz the way you just crawled over here to get a good whiff of me makes me wonder."
Kate came into the room slowly, balancing two very full martini glasses in her hands. She carried them over to the table in front of the couch and lowered them down gingerly. Glancing at the close proximity and prone positions of her two guests, she dropped
her hands on her hips.
"Oh for fuck's sake," she said, incredulously. "Brian hasn't even been here for five minutes!"
Stuart laughed, sitting up and leaning forward to take one of the glasses. "We were just establishing the boundaries," he said. "Not to worry."
Kate glowered at Brian, fiercely. "Don't think for one second that I won't turn the hose on you, Kinney. I will." She reached back and handed him his drink. "Now, behave yourself."
Brian sat up and took the glass, smiling devilishly with his big, hazel eyes.
**********
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