Rules of the Heart

Chapter 8

ONE WEEK LATER…

Brian looked at the caller id on his ringing cell phone and saw Michael’s number for the third time in the last twenty minutes. He angrily turned the phone off and threw it on the bed as he headed for the shower.

He quickly washed himself as he forced everything and everyone else out of his thoughts except for deciding where he was going to get his dick sucked later. Shortly after, he was standing in front of his closet, choosing between a sleeveless denim shirt and the tight black tee, when Michael let himself into the loft.

"Brian?" he called. When he saw the man walk over to the bedroom steps he asked, "Is there something wrong with your phone?"

Brian glared at him. "Are you shitting me?"

Michael’s brow furrowed at the man’s hostility. "I tried to call but--"

"I didn’t answer," Brian finished for him.

"Why not? I needed to see you."

‘I need you to fuck me’, Justin’s voice echoed in Brian’s head from earlier that afternoon. Christ, he wasn’t thinking about that shit now.

"It’s FRIDAY," Brian roared. "Whatever the fuck it is can wait until tomorrow."

"All you care about is--"

"Getting my dick sucked, I think that’s been firmly established. Now can we move on?"

"What about me?" Michael whined.

‘I don’t want anything else from you,’ Justin had said.

Brian rubbed his temple. "Did something happen? Tell me you’re actually here for a reason."

"I have to get out of the Big Q, I can’t stand it anymore!" Michael cried.

"Then quit," Brian growled. They’d been having this argument for months. Michael hated pretending he was straight, but he was too chicken to tell the truth. He’d even been stringing some poor girl along as a pseudo girlfriend whenever it suited him.

"And do what?" Michael griped.

"How the fuck should I know? It’s your life! Do whatever the fuck you want. Just stay the hell away from me because this is my night to relax." He didn’t bother telling Michael what a shitty day he had because he knew the other man wouldn’t care if it didn’t have a direct bearing on him right now.

"You’re an asshole. I expect to be treated better than this," Michael shouted.

Then Brian heard Justin in his head again. ‘I don’t expect you to hold my hand…’

"There aren’t any fucking locks on the doors, Mikey, you’re free to leave anytime if you’re not happy with the arrangement," Brian replied coolly as he went back to the closet and continued to dress. He fully anticipated Michael to continue his rant, but a moment later he heard the loft door slam shut.

Brian sat on the bed to put on his boots. He realized he’d sat on the phone and pulled it out from under himself. He stared at it as Justin’s visit to his office replayed in his mind.

 

***
 

EARLIER THAT DAY…

Brian snatched the boards from the junior executive and stormed down the corridor to the art department. The door slammed open as he entered, his blazing eyes scanning for Eric, the intern who’d prepared the presentation. Several heads popped up, then ducked for cover when they saw Kinney was on the rampage again.

"Eric," he barked when he saw the artist bent over his desk. "What the--" Eric and another artist he’d been conferring with stood, and Brian saw the other man was Justin Taylor. WHAT THE FUCK?!?

"What is this?" Brian snapped, thrusting the boards back at the other man.

Eric cringed slightly, but stood his ground. "That’s what you asked for," he replied steadily.

"THIS is not what I asked for," Brian argued. "I wanted--"

Eric wasn’t even listening and Brian was THIS close to giving the little fucker his walking papers when the artist pulled out a memo from the dumb fuck junior exec who ordered the boards. Brian scanned it and groaned. Jesus Christ. "This is not what I wanted," he repeated, his jaw clenched as he tried to redirect his anger toward the right asshole. "Did you think this was a good idea?"

"No, I thought it would look better if--"

"Then why didn’t you say something?"

"I did. James told me I’m not paid to think, I’m paid to color pretty pictures so I gave him exactly what he asked for."

Brian rubbed his temple as he dropped the boards in the trash. "Next time, find out who the team leader is and ask them directly if you question something. It’s usually Greg or myself anyway so don’t worry about being a dick and going over someone else’s head. We want it done right the first time. Now," he bent over the desk and scribbled a few notes, "this is what I want."

Eric glanced at the notes, and Justin peered over his shoulder curiously. "Wow, that’ll look great."

"What are you doing here?" Brian asked snidely, having forgotten about the teen for a moment.

Justin turned even paler than he had when he had seen Brian storm in.

"He’s my guest, Mr. Kinney," Eric told him. "He’s a fellow student at PIFA and I was just giving him a tour." He turned to Justin. "Justin Taylor, this is Brian Kinney, one of our senior ad executives."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kinney. I’ve always heard great things about Ryder and Associates and now that I’ve seen some of the behind the scenes processes I understand why."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Eric, can you get those done for me by two?"

The artist glanced at the clock. It was 11:55.

"Anything I can do to speed things along?" Brian asked impatiently. "Pink slip perhaps?"

"No, I can do it," Eric replied.

"Good, bring them directly to my office when you’re finished." Brian turned to leave, but stopped at another workstation a few feet away to inspect someone else’s work. He would never admit it, but he wanted to know what the fuck Justin was really doing there.

"Sorry, Jus," Eric said softly. "We’ll have to finish the tour another time. Maybe a weekend would be better. You know, we could make a whole day of it."

Brian didn’t like the sound of that.

"Don’t worry about it," Justin replied. "Granted I didn’t see much yet, but what I did see was really impressive. Anytime that works for you would be great. So um…I guess I better get out of your way."

"Yeah, I better get started or I won’t finish on time. But are you free for dinner? I feel bad bailing on lunch."

Brian rolled his eyes.

"Sure, I’d like that," Justin agreed. "How about that place we went by on Wednesday, Koppa’s."

"’K. I’ll call you later. Hey, Mandy, would you mind walking Justin out on your way down?" he asked another intern passing by.

"I’m going that way," Brian interrupted. "Mr. Taylor."

Justin looked startled for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Thank you."

Brian held the door for him as they walked out, but when the student turned toward the elevators, the older man took his elbow and led him the other way to his office. Brian ushered him inside and shut the door behind them. He pushed the teen down into the chair in front of his desk and sat on the corner himself, glaring down at the smaller man. "What the fuck are you really doing here?"

Justin blinked at him. "I was paired with Eric at my orientation. They have upper classmen mentor freshman. He told me he worked here and asked if I wanted to see your art department. I really like it. I hope I can get an internship here next year."

"Absolutely not," Brian told him flatly.

The teen was taken aback. "Why not?"

"Because we fucked."

"This has nothing to do with that!" Justin cried indignantly. "It’s not fair of you to discriminate against me because of something that happened a year ago."

"It was last week," Brian reminded him tersely.

"I meant when I applied," Justin sighed. "Besides it wouldn’t be up to you, I would be hired by the art director because of my talent drawing pretty pictures, not sucking cock."

Brian’s eyes softened. He knew the kid had talent, and he would be a real asset. But that wasn’t the issue. He wasn’t going to risk his career again for a piece of ass. Especially that blond boy ass. Just being next to the kid again made the temptation too great. Never mind they were talking about a situation in the distant future that may not even come to fruition. "Justin, I will give you a reference anywhere else because I know you’ll be great, but you cannot work here. I do not mix business and fucking when it can be helped. Period."

Justin stared at the floor for a moment. "Is this another lesson in being a good homosexual?"

Brian smirked. "Yes. And that means not fucking your mentor, Sunshine."

Justin’s eyes widened. "How did you--"

"He’s got it so bad for your ass a blind man could see it." Brian could relate to that. Jesus.

"Actually, it’s the other way around," Justin replied smugly. "I fucked him."

Brian picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his tie. He was relieved and annoyed by that bit of news and needed a moment to school his features back into a blank mask.

"You weren’t going to let me do it, were you?" Justin asked.

Brian’s head shot up and he glared at him. "I don’t--"

"Didn’t think so. And I don’t expect you to hold my hand through everything. People would think we were into kinky threesomes."

Brian chuckled despite himself. "I am, occasionally." Christ, he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. No, actually he could. The kid had turned his life upside down over the last week. The trick who stayed too long had turned into a permanent fixture in his life. Justin babysat his kid, hung out with Emmett and Lindsay, got a job at the diner, and now turned up at his office. He’d think he was being stalked except Justin had never made a move to get closer to him, it was just all incidental. And he hadn’t really minded, the kid was witty, intelligent, and mature for his age.

"So then what’s the problem?" Justin asked. "Jealous?" he teased.

Brian snorted. "I don’t do jealous. Why would I be jealous of him?"

"Because we’re fucking."

The older man stared at him harshly, sensing a trap. God dammit, the little shit WAS up to something. "I already had you."

Justin nodded as if he suddenly understood. "Right, no repeats." Then he pierced Brian with a harsh gaze. "Why not? I mean, I’ve heard all the bullshit about not getting tied down, the thrill of the chase, whatever. What I don’t understand is why you wouldn’t jump at the chance to mold a young impressionable boy into the perfect fucking machine like yourself. You could teach him everything you want and need for the best fuck of your life all the time."

Brian’s eyes narrowed. "And who do you have in mind for this little experiment?"

Justin’s eyes sparkled mischievously. "I think I’m the best candidate around, don’t you? I mean really, it’s a win-win proposition for both of us. You finally get to fuck someone who’s just as good as you, and I get to actually enjoy getting fucked again." He sighed tiredly and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Brian, what I thought was a good idea, having you be my first, fucking backfired in my face. How can I fuck anyone else when I know I’ve already had the best? No one else compares to you."

Brian smiled wanly. "There’s a support group at the GLC."

Justin brushed it off. "I might have to look into that." He stood, ready to leave. "Think about what I said. I don’t want anything else from you, but Jesus Christ, Brian, I need you to fuck me. And I know you want to too so forget about the stupid fucking rules. You made them up, you can throw them out. Or just bend them in this case, no one will know. Besides, it’s no one else’s fucking business. If we want to fuck each other into oblivion, why shouldn’t we?"

Although Justin was looking rather pleased with himself, it wasn’t an argument Brian hadn’t heard before and he had no inclination to give in this time either. But Sunshine did need another refresher course of how to be a good homosexual. The kid acted like he was listening to the words, but he certainly wasn’t taking them to heart.

"How many times have you fucked Eric?" Brian asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Justin tilted his head to one side, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. "I don’t know… a couple times over the last few days."

"Is he your boyfriend now?"

Justin laughed. "Hell, no. We just met. And if he was, I wouldn’t be trying to fuck you."

"You should tell HIM that."

"He knows that," Justin snapped defensively. "It was just a little fun."

"You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place because you knew him, and you certainly shouldn’t have fucked him again because now he’s thinks there’s something more between you."

"He does not. It was just a fuck," the blond shouted in frustration. "We’re horny fags, for Christ’s sake, just looking to get laid, and it was convenient. Why do you have to be so damn cynical all the time?" He stormed to the door and disappeared without another word or backward glance.

Brian walked around to his chair and slid behind the desk. "Fucking twat," he muttered as he prepared for his late afternoon meeting with Ryder and Fielding Candy. This account was going to seal his partnership, if the damn boards were ready.

 

***
 

THAT EVENING…

Brian pushed anymore thoughts of Justin, Michael, or Ryder out of his mind as he stuck the phone in his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed out the door.

Michael was outside, just about to come back in. "Brian, I don’t want to fight, let’s just—where are you going?"

‘…it’s no one else’s business anyway. If we want to fuck each other into oblivion why shouldn’t we?’

Brian pushed past his friend and pulled out his phone. Why the fuck not. He dialed and listened to it ring as he walked down the stairs.

"Brian!" Michael huffed.

The exec paused at the landing. "I’m only going to say this once. Go the fuck away. I don’t want to see or hear from you or anyone else until noon Monday. Understand?"

"What?!"

"I’m not fucking around, I got shit to do and I’m not dealing with you right now."

"Hello?" Justin finally answered.

Brian started down the stairs again. "Where are you?"

"Brian, what do you want?"

"Where are you?" Brian repeated gruffly.

"I’m eating dinner."

"Are you on a date with your boyfriend?"

"Fuck you," the blond snarled.

"No, fuck you, Sunshine. Tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you."

"Fourth and Clements."

"Ditch loverboy and meet me outside in ten minutes."