Presidential Inauguration

Part 2

Justin had grown accustomed to Brian, and Tony’s verbal sparring. The two were so evenly matched that it was inevitable that they would occasionally bump heads. In all honesty, there was something quite sexy about it. Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and as far as Justin was concerned, they didn’t come any more powerful than his tiger, and his lion. This latest incident however was something completely different. There was evilness about it that Justin had not seen before. Brian’s racial crack was completely out of character. Something was wrong.

Justin shook the mound in the center of the bed. “Brian…. Brian! Brian, I know you’re not asleep,” he said.

“I could be, if someone would stop calling my name,” Brian said from underneath the covers.

“Is everything alright between you, and Tony?” Justin cut straight to the chase.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brian feigned ignorance.

Justin peeled the comforter off of Brian’s head. “I’ve known you for seven years, and I’ve never heard you utter a single racial slur, until today. Why did you say what you said to Tony?” he asked.

“I simply stated a truth,” Brian said matter of factly. “Tony’s been living in a mulatto world, and passing for white for years. Now that it’s fashionable to be black, suddenly he’s the leader of the Black Panther Party.”

Justin was immediately taken aback. “That has got to be the most asinine thing you’ve ever said. Tony has never hidden the fact that he’s biracial. He shared that with us the first week we spent with him in Chicago.”

“And you had been fucking him for how many years by then?” Brian asked sarcastically.

“So that’s what this is all about, you’re jealous.” Justin smiled.

“I am not jealous,” Brian insisted.

“Yes you are.” Justin’s smile grew wider. “Daphne predicted that at some point in this relationship the green-eyed monster would rear its ugly head.”

“Daphne should mind her own business,” Brian snapped.

“Brian, I need you to know that I love you and Tony both equally, and I know that he loves you too,” Justin assured him.

“Tony wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You’re the reason he’s sleeping between us,” Brian said.

“Excuse me? Who followed who to Atlanta?” Justin reminded him.

“I did NOT follow Tony to Atlanta. I was there with a client, and Tony happened to be there. Knowing him, he had it planned all along,” Brian suspected.

Justin folded his arms across his chest. “Uh huh.”

“It’s true!” Brian insisted “Your Prince Charming isn’t the angel you think he is. HE seduced ME into coming to HIS room. It wasn’t the other way around. Him and his goddamn gentlemen’s agreement, he was supposed to be just another trick, and he would have been if it wasn’t for you!”

“So what are you saying? Are you saying that you want out of our marriage?” Justin asked.

“I’m saying that I’m not going to Tony’s 'Power to the People' rally. You know I hate politicians.” Brian rolled over, and covered his head with the comforter.

Justin laid down behind him, and wrapped his arms and legs around his tiger. “This inauguration obviously means a lot to Tony,” he said.

“You always take his side!” Brian resisted.

“I’m not taking Tony’s side. In fact, I’m inclined to agree with you. Maybe the whole world is homophobic, and maybe breeders do either hate us to our face, or they hate us behind our back, but that’s not what’s important now. This inauguration means a lot to Tony, and as his husbands we should be there to support him. You know that if it was the other way around he would be there for either one of us. Remember the first gay prom that you sponsored? Tony was there when you asked to use The Gazebo. He was there for you when Mel wanted to take Gus away, and he’s always been there for me.” Justin snuggled closer.

“I’m not going where I’m not wanted.” Brian held his ground.

“Please,” Justin whispered.

Brian could feel his resolve relenting. “I suppose I’m not going to get any sleep until I agree to go,” he said.

“We’re going to have a great time. It’ll be the honeymoon we never had, and you’ll be able to tell Gus that his dad was there to witness history in the making,” Justin said.

Brian flipped the covers back, and rolled over to face Justin. “Fine, I’ll go if you promise me one thing.”

“Anything!” Justin grinned.

“While we’re there, will you to try not to walk too much please?” Brian said.

“Why?” Justin couldn’t understand the strange request.

“Because Tony and I can blend, but that ass of yours is going to give us away for sure. Don’t be surprised if Reverend Warren and his Washington disciples decide to make a living sacrifice out of you, and stone you to death right there in front of their new black messiah,” Brian warned.

“I’ll have you there to protect me.” Justin smiled.
 

Brian rolled over, and once again buried himself underneath the comforter. “Protect you? I’m so fucking weak. I can barely protect myself,” he grumbled.

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The secret of a happy marriage was only one of the many wisdoms Bill, the bartender had learned during his twenty plus years at The Plaza. Experience, and talking to hundreds of remorseful men and women had brought him to the conclusion that it was all about keeping your eyes open, knowing how to recognize trouble when you see it, knowing how to avoid it, and knowing how to get out of the doghouse when you slip up. As the late afternoon ladies and gentlemen who brunch trickled out, and the early evening patrons began to flow in, there was one couple that didn’t notice the transition. Bill polished his glasses for the next round of customers as he watched his boss with the unfamiliar gentleman sitting near the fireplace, in the main dining area.

“I can’t believe you’re still married to Brian Kinney. I was sure you would be over it by now. How long has it been?” David finished the remainder of his drink.

“It’s been almost two months now,” Tony said.

“So tell me, is he that good in bed, or are you just tolerating him because of Justin? I can see you with Justin. He’s talented, young, handsome, but Brian?” David shook his head in disbelief.

“You don’t think Brian is talented, and handsome?” Tony defended his wayward, precious one.

“He’s a whore, Lucky. You can find hundreds just like him in any bath house, alleyway, and backroom in any city.” David signaled for their waiter. “Do you want another drink?”

“No thanks, I’m good. Do you mind if we change the subject?” Tony asked.

“Why? Does the truth hurt?” David smirked.

Tony ignored his friend’s last comment, and moved on. “So, I assume you’re going to the inauguration?” he said.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” David said. “How often does a man have a chance to be at the footsteps of history? I’ll be staying at the Four Seasons-Georgia. What about you?”

“Our tickets came today. We’ll be staying at the Four Seasons too,” Tony said.

“We?” David wanted to make sure he was hearing correctly. “Lucky, please don’t tell me you’re taking that whore to the inauguration. Did I ever tell you about the senatorial fundraiser I sponsored at my home? Brian and his posse showed up unannounced, dressed like they were going to a costume party. Michael had to stop him from taking the servers upstairs to fuck in our bed.”

“That sounds like Brian,” Tony laughed.

Funny, Tony had almost forgotten what it felt like to laugh. The “in sickness and in health” vow he took was turning out to be worse than he ever expected. Brian was difficult enough when he was healthy. An ill Brian Kinney was nearly impossible to be around. About the only person he listened to was Justin, which meant that Justin was spending all of his free time with Brian. Tony continued to tell himself that things would return to normal once Brian was finished with his radiation treatments. Their trip to Washington was to be more than just the celebration of a new era in America. It was also going to be a celebration of Brian’s victory over cancer as well. Instead of being lauded for his efforts, Tony’s idea was met with indifference. Lately it seemed as if he couldn’t do anything right. Indeed, Anthony Massey was starting to feel like an unwelcome guest inside his own marriage.

“Worst year,” David said.

“That’s easy, any time from 1956 to 1985. The whole time I was a ward of the state, and my first few years on the street,” Tony said. “What about you?”

“1997, the year I got divorced,” David said.

“And your best year?” Tony asked.

“1997,” David said.

“I thought you said that was your worst year,” Tony reminded him.

“It was both. 1997 was the year that I got divorced, but it was also the year that I met you. I can still see you bent over the craps table at the casino. I thought to myself, wow! What a great ass.” David took a sip of his fresh drink. “What about you? What was your best year?”

“1986, the year I acquired The Plaza.” Tony was holding his own with his third scotch.

“Best meal,” David continued.

“Best meal?” Tony thought for a moment. “The businessman’s lunch at George Diamond’s Steak House' in Chicago. I swear the steaks must be at least three inches thick, charbroiled, medium rare, served with a loaded baked potato the size of your fist.”

“I can beat that,” David said. “There’s this little place in Maine called 'Charlotte’s' that serves the biggest lobsters you’ve ever seen, cooked perfectly, served with an herbed garlic butter to die for.”

“Umm, you’re making me hungry.” Tony smiled.

“The restaurant is near this quaint little bed & breakfast on the coast, very gay friendly, beautiful scenery, a fireplace in every room. You should let me take you there sometime,” David suggested.

Tony looked at his watch. “Wow, look at the time. We’ve been talking for hours. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Would you like to order dinner? I can personally vouch for the duck a l’orange,” he said.

David leaned forward, and rested his elbows on the table. “What I have in mind isn’t on the menu,” he uttered.

Tony looked into David’s eyes. “I can ask the chef to prepare something special for you if you like,” he said.

“I think I’d like that.” David smiled. “Will he serve it in the private chef’s dining room?”

“He will, if I ask him to.” Tony swallowed hard.

“Please excuse me, Mr. Massey, but you have a telephone call, sir……..”

“What?” Tony looked up at their waiter.

“A telephone call for you, sir.” The waiter handed Tony the house phone.

“Excuse me for a moment, David. Hello?” Tony took the call.

“Mr. Massey,” the unexpected voice came over the line.

“Bill?”

“Sir, I thought you might like to know that Justin has just entered the bar area,” the Plaza’s senior bartender said.

“Is something wrong?” David asked.

“No……I…I mean yes,” Tony stuttered. “Something has come up that requires my attention.”

“How long will you be? Shall I wait for you?” David asked.

Tony hung up the phone, and stood up from the table. “I really can’t say how long this will take. No, don’t wait for me. Order dinner if you like, and don’t worry about the tab,” he said.

“So I’ll see you at the inauguration?” David asked.

“I’ll be there.” Tony assured him before hurrying off.

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“Hey.” Justin waved when he caught sight of his husband.

By now Tony was accustomed to expecting the worst. “What’s wrong? Is Brian alright?” he automatically asked.

“Calm down. Everything is fine,” Justin assured him “I left Brian asleep, and Michael is coming over after work to sit with him. I thought you and I could use some time together, alone.”

Tony glanced over Justin’s shoulder at Bill. The senior bartender continued polishing his glasses, as he cast an unassuming eye over at David, then looked back at Tony. Shit! David was maneuvering his way through the crowded dining area, and headed straight toward the bar. “Let’s go upstairs princess,” Tony said.

Justin took Tony’s hands. “Tony, before we go I want you to know how much I love you.”

“I love you too, princess. Let’s go upstairs.” Tony looked over Justin’s shoulder again.

The quick thinking bartender had somehow bought his boss a little more time by detouring David over to the other end of the bar, no doubt to offer him The Plaza courtesy car for patrons who may have had a little too much to drink.

“I know I’ve been spending most of my time with Brian, and neglecting you, but I promise that’s not going to happen anymore,” Justin continued. “I came here to tell you that Brian and I have decided that we’re going to the inauguration with you.”

The situation was desperate now. In an unprecedented display of unprofessionalism, Tony wrapped his arms around Justin’s waist, and shoved his tongue down the young man’s throat. “Baby, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you, how much I’ve wanted to hold you, to make love to you. My dick is so hard, it’s about to explode. Please baby, let’s go upstairs,” he panted.

“Ahem!” The stunned maitre d' discretely called attention to the guests watching in line, while waiting to be seated.

“I guess maybe you’re right. We should go upstairs now.” Justin blushed.

Bill stopped polishing his glasses, and laid his towel down on the counter underneath the bar. His shift had ended over two hours ago. He watched as Tony and Justin stepped onto the elevator, while David exited The Plaza through the front revolving door. Bartenders are taught how to be quick with a drink, and a joke. Over the years they add to their knowledge by listening and learning from their customers. Sometimes they’re asked for their advice, and occasionally they’re called upon to save their boss’s ass.

“That’s it for me. I’m headed home now,” Bill said to the fresh bartender on duty.

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