Ever Notice…?

Note:  A while back ddfan (I think that’s his handle. If I’m wrong, sorry) suggested a fic where the people at Vanguard catch on to B and J through little things—looks, small gestures and such. I liked the idea and took a shot in a ficklet.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Tuesday morning and Brian Kinney was, unusual for him, in the employees’ lounge getting his own coffee. Normally his assistant did that sort of thing for him, he wouldn’t be bothered.

The moment he had walked into the room a silence had fallen over the room, something that he was fairly used to at Vanguard since he cultivated having the workers fear him and which he secretly found funny. He had found that it helped in getting things done with a minimum of back and forth. Fear was a great motivator.

He’d ask for something, the person he asked would be afraid of either a reaming or unemployment and whatever it was he wanted would get done.

It was simple and it worked for him.

It also helped that he didn’t give a rat’s ass whether he was liked or not. He knew that he was respected and that was enough for him.

So it gave people cause to notice when the new intern, the blond one, walked over to get himself another cup of coffee at the same time Kinney was pouring. Without saying anything he held out his empty mug and, also without saying anything, Kinney refilled it.

The kid smiled up at him—Kinney was a good half a head taller—flashed a traffic-stopping smile and said a simple “Thanks”.

The thing that caused jaws to drop was when Kinney smiled back with a simple, “You’re welcome.”

They both held it a few seconds; broke the eye contact and each went on his way.

That was odd.

Normally Kinney would have given the kid a look that would have frozen ice on an August day, but he just smiled.

Very odd, that.

About a week later the two men happened to be down in the lobby waiting for the elevator at the same time, along with three or four other Vanguard people at the end of lunch. As the car doors slid shut and they were headed up, Kinney turned to the intern and said, quietly, “I’d like to go over those color changes you made this morning. Come up to my office with the boards in about twenty minutes.”

The kid nodded and just said. “Alright.”

It was nothing. The car stopped and Kinney got out on twenty-six to talk to someone about something. The doors closed again and, in their polished surface, the other riders could see the kid smile to himself, obviously pleased about something.

Strange.

Two days after that Kinney was standing with his assistant when the kid came up to them, handing Kinney a page of slides and accidentally dropping them at the handoff. Picking them up and handing them over again, Kinney’s middle finger subtly stroked the intern’s inner palm a couple of times.

It was blatantly sexual to anyone who noticed—although few did, and the young man blushed, happy.

Later that same week Kinney asked to see the evaluations being sent back to the various schools for the current crop of interns. Odd, he usually stayed away from the whole program, if he could, having almost no interest in it. Human Resources had the file walked up to his office. About an hour later his assistant returned them, thanking the department head for letting Kinney have them as quickly as they had.

When the department chief looked, she saw that Kinney seemed to have made no comments about the contents of any kind, seemingly having just read them and passing them back.

On Friday Kinney asked his assistant if she could stay late to finish a few letters that really needed to go out that night. She had a date and was in the lounge trying to get someone to cover for her. No one wanted to stay late—Kinney had been in a foul mood since Thursday and it had gotten increasingly worse. As she was walking out the intern touched her arm. “I can type.”

They exchanged small smiles as she thanked him.

One evening a couple of the copywriters were surprised to be riding down to the parking garage with Mr. Kinney and a couple other of the employees. There was little talk beyond simple ‘hellos’ and ‘good nights’. As was common, Kinney’s presence inhibited small talk. When the car emptied the new accounting secretary walked to her car, parked near the area reserved for senior management. Mr. Kinney was getting in that fancy sports car of his. As she watched—he was a beautiful man—she saw the new intern come out from behind a large parked SUV, open the corvette’s passenger door and get in. They started laughing at something one of them had said, laughing and talking. They either hadn’t noticed that she was there or didn’t care.

Leaning in together she saw them laughing some more, then they kissed.

They just sat there and kept kissing and kissing. She saw Mr. Kinney put his hand up behind the blond kid’s neck and head, holding him and then the kid did the same to Kinney.

They just sat there kissing as she watched, staring at them.

The engine finally started. They left.

She went north up Forbes Avenue on her way home and was surprised to see Mr. Kinney and the kid pull into the Giant Eagle parking lot, probably stopping for dinner stuff like she was about to do. As they got out of the car and walked to the doors, she saw Kinney touch the kid lightly on the rump, causing him to smile, pause and reach back to grab Kinney’s hand. He held it as they walked inside.

Well, she’d heard that Mr. Kinney might be gay.

‘Guess it was true.

And it was no one’s business.

Return to Simon's