Chapter 7 - The customary shreds and odd ends ~o~ Ted “Ok, so… Will Turner or Jack Sparrow?” Emmett asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Michael and I take a moment to ponder our answers, but I’m pulled from my mental pro and con list by the sound of Blake snorting beside me, and I see Ben smiling at us indulgently as if we’re all small children and he’s the dad. I’m sure we do seem childish, we are grown men discussing which fictional character we’d rather fuck, after all… but even if we love them and couldn’t live without them… they don’t understand just how comforting this is. This everyday, silly thing - it’s reassuring. “Well… Jack has that bad boy allure going on…” starts Michael. “And the man looks FINE wearing eyeliner,” adds Emmet. “But there’s something about Will in the last film - becoming this tough pirate…” Michael continues. “Not to mention how yummy he looks with that red bandana and showing off his chest,” nods Emmet. “I can’t help but feel that fucking Jack wouldn’t be too sanitary, though…” I add my two cents. And promptly get an eye roll from Michael and a little shove from Emmet. “Teddy! We’re not ranking their cleanliness level!” “Well, I’m just saying…” We seem to be stuck. Shall we call it a tie? Just as I’m about to, the missing input comes in. Holy shit! And he’s not alone… “SUNSHINE!” Deb’s bellow makes us all cringe, both because our eardrums may be permanently damaged, and in sympathy for the bone crush Justin seems to be receiving. “Hey, Deb…” he wheezes out. “Now, now, Deb, you don’t want to kill the poor boy,” says Brian, extricating Justin from the hug. “I may want to fuck him soon, and corpses aren’t all that fun, I hear.” Promptly and ever predictably, Debbie smacks the back of his head and mutters “Asshole”, but it doesn’t have too much bite. In fact, she’s looking at Brian through proud, misty eyes. They walk over to our booth, and Brian makes room for himself next to Emmett, but before we can scoot over to make some for Justin, he pulls him down onto his lap. “So what are you doing here, sweetie?” asks Emmett “Oh, you know… I had some business to take care of,” Justin answers, shrugging. But his shit-eating grin and quick glance at Brian makes us all understand exactly what business. They kiss and it’s as if the rest of the world disappears for them. ‘All these people drinking lover’s spit’ I was quite jealous of them for a while - for the love they shared, even if it took Brian a while to admit that’s what it was. In fact, I was very jealous of Brian himself. He was so fucking… perfect. I couldn’t say we were real friends until after he hired me. He’d helped me out before, of course, but it wasn’t until he gave me a chance, when nobody else would, that I started really seeing past his game face. And when the cancer happened - shit, that’s when I saw that Brian Kinney was human after all. It sucks that such a horrible thing had to happen to bring us closer, but I am glad it did. Because now I’m not jealous of Brian. I’m merely very glad and very honored to have him as a friend, and as a boss. “Briaaaan!” Michael’s whine makes the couple stop swallowing each other. “What Mikey?” “We’re eating here!” “And nobody is forcing you to watch…” Brian grins, pecks Justin on the lips and turns to yell “Deb! Coffee!” Yes, this was precisely what was missing. Not a lonely, despondent Brian… but a snarky, underneath-it-all happy Brian. And Justin. (And for all practical purposes, BrianandJustin if they’re within 30 feet of each other.) Brian turns back to see us all staring at them as if we’ve never seen them before. He rolls his eyes. “So what were you ladies talking about before you decided to stare at us like we’re an alien life-form?” “We were discussing who we’d rather fuck, Will Turner or Jack Sparrow,” supplies Emmett. Justin launches on an argument with Michael over the question, and I see everyone is totally focused on him, wondering exactly what the deal is between him and Brian. I choose to focus my attention on my boss, however, and I’m struck with the openness of him. He’s looking at Justin with this tenderness I’ve only ever seen directed at Gus, and I suddenly feel incredibly happy for him. He hasn’t been doing well, these past two years. Of course, he’s been just great on the surface: doing fantastic at work, still tricking, still drinking - but with something missing, always. Sometimes, when we were at Woody’s or Babylon, I’d catch him staring off into space, and the haunted and pained look in his eyes always made me ache for him. Most people, and I include myself there, forget that for all his posturing and apparent indifference, Brian Kinney does feel. In fact, I’d say that he feels much more deeply than many. You just have to know where to look. And right now, I’m looking at his face, his eyes… his entire body. He seems relaxed in a way I haven’t seen him in a very long time, he seems to be, at long last, content. He notices me looking at him, and raises his eyebrows. I merely give him a small smile, and in understanding he smiles back. ‘To glimpse a piece of a soul in a soft smile’ I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but I am sure glad to see Justin back. Back where he belongs. It was hard seeing Brian so… soulless. I hope he stays this time. “Jack’s swagger is totally hot!” “But he’s so drunk all the time, I doubt he could get it up…” “Oh, trust me, Mikey… drunkenness isn’t too much of a problem if you’re any good.” Brian rolls his eyes and leans forward, apparently deciding it’s time to settle the argument. “It’s as easy as having a threesome, boys…” he drawls, and everyone turns to look at him. “From the way Will eye-fucks Jack, I’d say he’s a big, nelly bottom, and considering the amount of women Jack seems to have spurned, he’s probably a very able top. Sooo… just have a threesome,” he finishes. Emmett, Michael and Justin nod in concurrence and start talking about the possible aphrodisiac qualities of rum, and I mentally congratulate myself. After all, I had the right idea in thinking it was a draw. And don’t tell anyone, but sometimes... I really do like to be like Brian Kinney. Just a bit. * Brian “Mr. Kinney? Jennifer Taylor is here,” Anna, my new assistant, tells me over the intercom. It was tough finding a replacement for Cynthia, but she really deserved to become an Account Executive… and anyway, it only took like five people until I found a somewhat decent assistant. Somewhat. “Send her in.” I stand up to greet Jennifer, who looks poised and elegant as usual. “Brian, how are you?” she asks, as she gives me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. (Sometimes I’m still a bit caught off guard by her affection for me. But I am glad I have it.) “I’m good, thanks,” I gesture for her to take a seat. “So, I’m guessing you come on business?” “I do, indeed. You’ll be glad to know the owners accepted your bid and the place is all yours whenever you sign the papers,” she tells me. “Great. But… ” I pause. “I want to wait until next weekend to sign the papers.” “But Justin’s coming back next weekend, isn’t he? Won’t you be a bit… busy?” she asks tactfully. I simply raise an eyebrow. It doesn’t take long before a look of comprehension dawns on her face. “You mean…” “I don’t want the place to be all mine.” She smiles at me, looking at me… well, as if she’s proud of me. I smile back, but before a mushy scene can start, I ask “So, how about coming to lunch with me?” “I’d be happy to.” I decide I’ll take Jennifer to her favorite restaurant. (And yes, I do know which one it is. Don’t even think about saying something.) ~o~ The door slides open and before I can say ‘Hello’, a determined blond is attacking my lips. Not that I’m complaining, of course. “Missed you” he gets out, in between getting my shirt off and pulling down my jeans. I did, too. I had a momentary flash of panic when I dropped him off at the airport two weeks ago. I almost got out of the car to run after him… but then his words came back to me: ‘I want you too. All of you… Because I love you.’ It’s a bit ironic how reassuring those words are to me. I guess it’s because I *know* he means them. So I stayed in the car, and smiled thinking this time he was coming back. To me. For good. Back to the present, I drag him to the bed so I can greet him properly. We’re acting like overeager teenagers, grasping at each other with near desperation. I finally manage to step out of my jeans and to take off his cargo pants, and we both moan when our cocks make contact. I walk backwards to the bed and he falls on top of me. He straddles my thighs, looking so fucking beautiful on top of me… and he’s kissing my lips, my neck, my chest… “Justin…” I whisper. I’m running my hands across his back, his ass… slipping in a finger, then two… “Ride me.” He quickly grabs a condom and lube from the nightstand, and the sight of him preparing himself is almost more than I can take. He rolls the condom onto my dick and finally, he lowers himself and it’s the heat and the tightness and the most fucking amazing thing… like it always is. I know I’m not gonna last too long, but it doesn’t really matter. I have a whole day to welcome him home. I lift my hips, start meeting his movements, and in no time at all he’s tightening around me and I’m gripping his hips so hard he’s probably bruising and he’s coming and I swear to fucking god I’m almost seeing white because I’m coming so hard. He falls exhausted on top of me, my dick softening inside him, and it’s fucking perfect. After a little while he moves off me, and I knot and toss the condom while he’s getting a towel to clean us off. I lay sideways, looking at him - just looking at him. He turns to me, smiles softly. “Hi,” he says quietly. “Hi,” I reply. And with just that, my doubts and worries ebb away. I know it won’t be easy, and I’m sure I’ll fuck up royally from time to time, but… I have my whole life to get this right. And for him, I will. The apprehension and fear that dogged my every step for so long seems to fade away, and all that’s left is Justin and me, lying side by side on a bed. I feel free. ‘I’ll rise from all my sorrow Let the sun shine on my face’ ~o~ Justin I wake up feeling warm and well-fucked. It’s really the best way to wake up. I close my eyes and savor the feeling of Brian’s arm across my waist, his hard body behind me. Hmm… talking about hard… I decide it’s time I wake him up in his favorite way. From the moans, I’m thinking he’s glad I did. A blowjob, a shower (with a rim job and a nice, wet fuck included, of course) and a cup of coffee later, we’re mostly ready to go. I have no idea where, ‘cause Brian isn’t saying, but he seems strangely nervous so I’m not pressing. We finally get out of the loft and I’m ready for anything except for the lift to stop in the floor below. “Uh, Brian? Did you press the wrong button? Have my blowjobs finally succeeded in scrambling your mind or is age catching up with you?” He rolls his eyes and swipes me in the butt. “I did not press the wrong button, Sunshine, we’re getting off here,” he ushers me out, “and you’ll pay for that ‘old’ comment later,” he threatens. Oh, yum… punishment! “Promises, promises,” I tell him grinning, and from the glint in his eye I can tell he’s barely avoiding ‘punishing’ me right here. “So, why are we here?” He simply turns to the door in front of us, and knocks. It opens and inside is - my mother?! What the fuck? “Hi, sweetheart! Hi, Brian, how are you?” “Great, Jennifer, thanks for asking.” “Mom… what are you doing here?” I interrupt their little greeting. “She’s here acting in a professional capacity,” Brian answers. “So, are the papers drawn up and ready?” he turns to ask my mother. “Yes, all you have to do is sign.” Ok, wait a minute… Brian is buying this place? Why didn’t I know about this? “Hold on! You’re *buying* this?” “Actually - we are,” Brian says, rolling his lips into his mouth. “What?!” … the fuck? Brian walks to stand in front of me, and I really hope he has a good explanation. “Justin… if we’re going to do this, be together… we need something that’s ours, something where we can both be comfortable. You need a space to paint, I need a space to work… and Gus needs a room. So, when I heard this place was up for sale, I thought it would be perfect… it’ll take some work, but we can connect it to upstairs and we’ll have more than enough space,” he says, looking almost - apprehensive. Oh, Brian… It’s time like these when I’m just fucking… awed. *This* is love. It’s not the roses and the words, it’s worrying about where I can paint and about giving us enough space to cool down when we argue and making sure I have a place to call my own, and not someone else’s. “It’s perfect,” I say. And it really is… only, “But why are *we* buying this? I don’t have all that much money right now, Brian, and I won’t let you pay for me! We’re supposed to be equal partners and…” “Hold the queen out!” he interrupts. “I know you don’t have the money right now, Justin, but we can draw up an installment plan like the one we did for PIFA. But for the moment, I do want you to sign your name on the deed.” I nod, satisfied, and turn to my mom to sign. She’s looking at us with this smile on her face, and I can’t help but think that she feels really proud of us. Hell, I am, too. ~o~ Finally, after four fucking months, the loft is ready. It actually looks fantastic, and it really does feel more ours. The top floor is basically the same, but we moved the dining table downstairs (it’s not like we eat at the table all that much…) and we added a more people-friendly living room. I have a small studio and Brian has an office, and of course, Gus has a room. He helped decorate it, and it’s colorful and crazy, and much to Brian’s chagrin, one of the walls is a somewhat violent shade of green. He sighed dramatically and declared, ‘This is proof he lives with lesbians - he *has* to spend more time with me, before his taste is completely ruined!’ Honestly, I really doubt Gus will grow up with bad taste. The kid has more designer clothes than most people (except Brian, obviously). It’s fantastic watching Brian and Gus together. Gus totally adores his dad, and Brian, at long last, realized he really is a good father. Whenever I think the world is total crap, I just look at them together - and it brings my hope back. “Why so happy, Sunshine?” Brian’s voice brings me out of my reverie. “I don’t know… I just am,” I answer, and Brian smiles in understanding. It’s the truth, really. We're just - happy. Don’t get me wrong, there are fights and queen outs and times when we’d like to murder each other, but that’s ok. ‘Cause this time around, we’re working on the talking and making up, instead of the walking out and usual forms of pain management. It’s tough, and it’s a lot of work, but we’re willing to do it and we have a long time to get better at it. (Plus, the make up sex is fucking amazing, as Brian loves to point out.) No, we’re not perfect. In fact, we’re both very fucked up. But, we’re fucked up together, and that makes all the difference. We’re together. Really together. Talking with our lawyer about a domestic partnership, or the closest thing we can get here. Talking, laughing, fighting, fucking… Brian comes to stand behind me, and his arms wrap around me. We stand silently, surveying our home. I tip back my head and kiss his neck. He smiles down at me, and kisses me for a long time. “I love you, Justin.” he says quietly. My breath catches in my throat. I’m sure I’m smiling like the Cheshire cat. He kisses me again, and no more words are spoken. It won’t ever cease to amaze me, this love. All we’ve been through - it’s hard to believe. When you’re small, you think that love is like a Disney movie. When you’re a teenager, you think it’s like a Hollywood formula. I’m sure many people never really grow out of that. But, what I found out is… it’s not true we all find love. It’s not true we have a Prince Charming waiting to sweep us off our feet. And love is no fucking picnic. It hurts, and it’s hard work, and it can slip right out of your hands. Still… if you’re lucky, and stubborn, and just a bit daring, you might just find something that changes your world, that challenges you and makes you be the best you can be, and makes your heart beat and makes you laugh and cry and *feel*. If you’re really lucky, you’ll find something that makes everything else worthwhile. Something that takes your breath away, something so consuming it seems almost silly to call it by a word. You’ll find true love. 'Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night. You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life.' - Sheerwood Anderson The End. Author’s note: Chapter title taken from a poem by Jorge Luis Borges, songs quoted are, in order: Lover’s Spit by Broken Social Scene, a line from a poem I wrote and Quicksand by Natalie Walker. Whoa… it’s quite sad to finish this. But I’d really like to thank those of you who left such constant feedback, it really meant a lot. This was my second fic for this fandom, and my first multi-chaptered one… I loved writing it, and I hope you had a good time reading it as well. Let me know! :)