A Modern Fairy Tale ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Do you really want to hear this story? I don’t know why, it’s nothing unusual, just two people who meet, fall in love and eventually marry. Oh I know, one of them had a reputation for being something of a man about town, a stud even, though asshole was a word often used to describe me. And the other one, the one filled with mystery and beauty; well he was known as a kind and gentle man. A true beauty and the beast fairy tale set in modern times. And like the age-old fairy tale, beauty tamed the beast and they lived happily every after. Of course it didn’t happen quite that quickly and the beast had his job cut out for him winning over his beauty. I bet none of you realized that, did you? That it was me who fell and fell hard immediately. It was me, the stud of Liberty Avenue who had to work hard, damn hard to win the hand of the man he loved. When I think about it now I can laugh, but at the time it was no laughing matter let me tell you. My blond beauty led me a merry chase. He tells me now it was his master plan right from the beginning. But I know better, because I was there from the start. I saw the look in his eyes when we first met and then later the look of disappointment when he discovered my true identity as the beast. I knew as soon as I saw the invitation to the reception at the Country Club, that I should have had Cynthia send my regrets. Something about that heavy piece of vellum as it slid out of the stiff envelope shouted ‘keep away’. But I was over confident by then. I was Brian Kinney, top ad exec at Ryder, up for a partnership, three-time award winner of best ad for the year. A small piece of hand made paper shouldn’t have frightened me. And it didn’t, not really. But like an episode of the Twilight Zone, I could almost hear the eerie music playing in the background and a spooky voice telling me that if I opened up the folded paper, my life would be forever changed. I must have sat in my expensively decorated office staring at the cream colored vellum for fifteen minutes before getting up the nerve to open the damn thing. The only thing that gave me the guts was the series of paintings that hung on the wall across from my desk. They were paintings I’d picked up two years before in a small gallery right here in Pittsburgh. I was assured by the gallery owner that they would be an investment as the artist was extremely talented and definitely going places. The three large paintings were meant to be kept together, though I suppose they would have stood the test of being separated. They depicted two men in formal wear, dancing. Each painting was a different pose, none of them actually showed their faces, but you got the impression right from the first glance, that the two of them were in love and happy. If ever paintings gave off vibes, these do and looking at them always gives me confidence. Anyway I finally drummed up the nerve to open the invitation. It was merely one of many I receive because I’m on the board at the GLC - nothing note worthy. Certainly it wasn’t anything that warranted my little drama queen moment. I was glad that Cynthia hadn’t been there to witness it. The date for this affair was for the Friday night two week from the date I opened the ominous envelope. I propped it up against my desk lamp and promptly forgot about it as I went about my day’s work. A week later, the invitation fell down across the paper I was writing on and I was once again reminded. I picked it up and looked at, there was still time to refuse, but I’d refused the last three and I was feeling twinges of conscience. I remember sighing heavily, even though there was no one in the room to witness my drama and picking up the phone to call Michael, my best friend since high school, to see if he wanted to attend this shindig with me. Of course he didn’t, but I managed to convince him he’d have a wonderful time though I did have to bribe him by agreeing to head to Babylon with him afterwards. Michael is my best friend, but that’s all he is, a friend, though he wanted more and maybe once when I was fifteen I might have wanted something more too. But luckily cool heads prevailed, or was it that hot soccer player in the next county – what ever it was, the urge passed never to return. Mikey is always there for me, no matter what and I knew that what ever was out there in the twilight zone – Mikey would watch my back. I didn’t know I should have had him watching my heart. The fateful Friday night finally arrived and Mikey and I dressed in our best – Armani for me and what ever fit him at the local men’s shop for Mikey, he still has no sense of style for a gay guy, he fails miserably when it comes to dressing. The event was a dinner dance, nothing wonderful, the usual speeches, the usual inedible food and watered down drinks. We estimated our exit time at maybe ten, enough time to drive home, get changed and head to Babylon to maybe pick up the trick du jour for me and with luck Mikey. We arrived within minutes of having to take our seats – a trick I’ve perfected, it cuts out the necessity of having to make small talk to people you’d never normally talk to in a million years. As luck would have it, the tables were arranged to frame the dance floor and the only table with any seats available was damn near front and center stage. I led Mikey to it in good grace, never let the bastards see you sweat is my motto. Mel and Lindz were seated two tables over and while Lindz gave me her usual sweet smile, I could tell the Mel was enjoying the fact that Mikey and I were seated in such a prominent spot. They know how I like to fade from sight as early as I can from these things. What they didn’t know, none of them - was that the moment I stepped into that crowded main dining room at the Country Club, the moment my foot hit that piece of carpet, I knew. I knew my fate was inside the room and that I couldn’t escape even if I ran like a crazed man all the way back to the Pitts. I expected the eerie music to begin playing any moment, instead what I heard was a jazzed up version of a modern pop tune that the live band was attempting to play. Resisting the urge to run, I sauntered into the room like I owned it. I am Brian Kinney after all. Mikey went over to talk to Mel and Lindz leaving me at a table set for six. There was another couple there, if you can call Mikey and I a couple, a man and his wife in their late thirties, early forties maybe. I nodded hello and played with the silverware while I let my eyes wander around the room hoping to spot a bar. I could use a double Beam about then. The room had been rather tastefully decorated. I could see the hand of my friend Emmett in the decorations. He had been getting a lot of work from the Country Club set lately planning their little get togethers. And then I saw him. He was walking toward me arm in arm with another man, they were both laughing up a storm. If the other man hadn’t ended up driving me almost insane with jealousy as time went on, I probably wouldn’t remember him today. But my beauty, him I’ll never forget as long as I live. I swear to god there was a spot light on him, he glowed. His blond hair cut short, almost a buzz cut, not one of my favorite looks, but on him it was hot, and his suit, folds of richly cut dark blue silk like nothing I’d ever seen before. Most definitely something he’d purchased perhaps in Europe. And then he turned – our eyes met – time stopped – there really isn’t any other way for me to describe it. It happened so fast – the stopping of time – my life making an abrupt ninety degree turn – the stillness of the room – and then the chatter of the others started again – the clink of silverware – the sound of a poorly played waltz – laughter – and blue eyes – bluer than the summer sky – blue eyes filled with laughter – blue eyes that looked deep into my body and stole my heart then and there. But I was Brian Kinney, for fuck sake. I coolly nodded hello and the two of them took their places at the round table. He sat beside me and instantly I could smell the citrus bite of his cologne, a sharp tang of a hastily put out cigarette, the light sandalwood of his soap. He greet the older couple and it turned out they were his parents, here to see him get some award – I suppose that’s the reason I had been summoned with that innocent piece of vellum. Through the hum of voices, the small boring speeches, the general applause as the award was given; I sat sightless seeing only the blue of his eyes, the curve of his fingers as they clutched the stemmed water glass. I heard only his breathing and that laugh he made occasionally as one of the people at our table made some kind of joke. Mikey entertained for both of us – he was used to it – I hated these things and it was easy to take refuge in my usual aloofness. No one noticed. The dinner was served – I have no idea what it was for I only pushed each course around on my plate for forms sake. I remember his asking if I was going to finish what ever the fuck it was we were served. I couldn’t speak, though I managed to shake my head. He grinned at me a smile that blinded and eagerly switched plates, finishing up in no time at all what I’d been served. I was entranced with the easiness he had toward me and I ached to touch his hand. Dessert was served and before he could ask, I pushed mine toward him when he’d finished up his. He grinned again and this time his fingers brushed mine as the small plates were exchanged. He murmured a thank you and I again I couldn’t speak, only nod and smile like some kind of tongue-tied moron. Thank gawd for Mikey, who never lost a beat in his incessant talk of comic books and other worldly things. Dinner was over and the music began. His parents stood up and left for the dance floor. His friend asked him to dance and they left to entrance those who watched with a flawless waltz. I was eaten up with jealousy that the greasy haired stranger held him in his arms. Mikey wanted to dance and I growled a no only to find even Mikey betraying me by dancing with the handsome Ben Bruckner, a former trick who apparently found Mikey intriguing. I sat at the empty table, wishing for a stronger drink and a cigarette waiting for Mikey to finish up with his bad attempt at a waltz, periodically seeing the gleam of his blond hair, the flash of his smile as the crowd swayed in and around the dance floor. On the last turn past, I noticed a cloud of unhappiness pass over my beauty’s face and a sneer on the face of his dance partner. My eyes flashed, I’m sure they both saw it, though I outwardly remained calm and as the next dance began, something ridiculously romantic by the Platters, I stood and moved through the dancers until I stood towering over both of them. Using my height to intimidate the dark haired one, I bowed like an old fashioned courtier, I don’t know what made me do it and took my beauty by the hand to dance him away in a faultless waltz that made the lessons I’d paid for years ago worth every penny. Such a vision we made, that the dance floor cleared as I moved him, swaying to the music, twisting turning, our feet barely touching the floor, our eyes never leaving each other. No words were spoken between us, we didn’t need them as we were joined together as one entity, ending when the music stopped and the people waiting on the sidelines began to clap. I bowed again and led him back to the table where I grabbed Mikey and we left before any questions could be asked. I knew I still was unable to voice any words no matter how trivial, I drove Mikey home, barely listening to his chatter. We agreed to meet later at Babylon though I had no intention of going there. It was easier though to agree and later turn off my cell phone and unplug the phone at home. Instead I sat in my loft on the chaise I kept by the window, a glass of Beam and pungent smoke of my latest purchase, staring out the window at the city night skies, trying to bring back the feel of him in my arms. The weekend was lost to me. I went through the motions, ate, worked out at the gym, talked with the gang, but the whole time I was doing it, I was picturing summer sky eyes and a sunshine smile. It was almost comical to think of what the others would do if they could read my mind as we sat for an hour or more in the diner listening to Emmett and Ted or Mikey’s account of the night before. By the Friday of the next week, I was resigned to never seeing him again. I suppose I could have made the effort of asking Mel or Lindz, just who he was and why we were there watching him accept an award and what the fuck was the award even for. But if I did that, they would know, they would know that I cared to ask and Brian Kinney didn’t ask about young blonds and he didn’t chase after them. But I did care and I desperately wanted to chase after him. I was staring at my paintings when Cynthia buzzed to tell me that the new hire for the art department had arrived. I normally left all of that to Marty Ryder, but this was for the head of the department and I would be working closely with whomever Marty hired. I suppose he thought it good office politics to include me in on hiring, though we both knew it was already done and my meeting the new hire a formality only. Cynthia opened my door and in walked beauty. “Brian, this is Justin Taylor.” She said. The two of us looked at each other and smiled. Cynthia looked puzzled and left us alone. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here Mr. Kinney.” My beauty began. And I nodded once again at a loss for words. He must have thought me an idiot. He looked around my office and I let him, because in truth I was proud of the way it looked. “I see you own some of my art. Now that is surprising Mr. Kinney” and he waved his hand at my favorite paintings. “I bought them some time ago, they’ve always fascinated me.” I managed to say through dry lips. “They were done as a result of a reoccurring dream I’d been having.” He looked at them critically and even moved over to stand in front of them. “Do you see it Mr. Kinney, it’s almost like our dance on Friday night, in fact it could have been.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I painted them two years ago.” “With a talent such as yours, why do you want to work in advertising?” I asked. It was an honest question. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to hear the answer or just listen to him speak. When he talked to me he looked me in the eye and I read volumes around the words that I heard, like some lovesick girl. “I like to eat on a regular basis Mr. Kinney. Certainly my paintings sell, but not often enough or for enough money to keep in the style I enjoy. I’m afraid I prefer living in a warm home rather than a cold garret. Regular paychecks ensure that I’m kept in Armani and that my heating bills are paid on time.” “You own a home?” I asked a foolish question and one not really pertaining to the position offered. It was none of my business and I waited for him to say so, though I was praying he wouldn’t. He raised his eyebrows acknowledging that the question was out of order, but then his eyes twinkled with delight that I’d cared enough to ask and he said. “Yes, I had a rather decent sized settlement as a result of an incident a few years ago. I thought investing in a place to live where I could paint in comfort, would be a wise decision, though I must confess that part of the money went toward a completely impractical car to drive.” He half laughed. “I’ll put that purchase down to the foolishness of my young years at the time. I suppose I could buy something more practical and I do think about it each time I wrestle a piece of artwork in and out of the almost non existent rear seat.” “You will receive a company vehicle if you want one as part of the hiring package for the position.” I offered. It was a perc that I knew Marty wasn’t going to offer, but one the previous Art Department head had. I knew I could get Marty to agree. “Really?” he said and his eyes danced. “I didn’t know that.” “Yes, Cynthia will give you the details.” I nodded toward my assistant’s office. I almost said something when he walked to the door. Demanded that he sit down and visit with me, tell me what he liked and disliked. Instead I watched him turn the knob and then say. “It was nice to meet you again Mr. Kinney.” He hesitated for a moment. “I didn’t get a chance before – but thanks for the dance.” He half shrugged as once again I stool like a silent dolt. “I start Monday, so see you then.” And he disappeared from view and I stood behind my desk paralyzed and unable to sit or walk over to the door to follow him down in the elevator. It was a beginning of sorts, or maybe the dance was the beginning and this was merely a continuation of the twists and turns that fate interjected into lives. I began to once again look forward to going into the office and arrived earlier and stayed later then usual, all the while hoping to run into my beauty other than in the boardroom during a presentation or in our offices while five others joined us in meetings. I searched for reasons to wander into his department earning myself nervous looks from those who’d faced my wrath at one time or another. No matter how many times I presented myself in front of him, or how often I ‘accidentally’ encountered him in the parking garage, the men’s room, the lunch room, he never once called me Brian, always Mr. Kinney. The way he said it made my cock twitch every time and I knew that if he said ‘Brian’ I’d be hard in an instant. I know that Mikey and the gang were beginning to wonder about me. The phone calls from them all were increasing in frequency and the lame invitations to join them at Woody’s or Babylon were becoming more desperate. Instead I’d confined my tricking to solitary prowling at the baths preferring the anonymity of the place, the darkness where I could shut my eyes and pretend the lips on my cock were those of my beauty. I’d taken to casually putting my hand in the small of his back when we walked into the boardroom, or his office, letting my hand guide him. I know he wondered about it. I’m sure he must have thought I was depraved wanting to touch him at every opportunity. I sought out the art gallery where I’d purchased my original three paintings one day and surprised myself by buying two more of his works. How could I resist, one was clearly of me standing in front of my office window watching the city. I wondered when he’d seen me doing that. I was usually more careful always making sure my office door was shut lest someone find out I’m human after all. The other painting was surrealistic splashes of color, which took your breath away. Each time I looked at it I could see different things, a panther, my beauty, myself – it all depended on the way the light struck the canvas. I took it home and mounted it near my chaise knowing it would provide more entertainment for me than the liquid screen television on the other wall. The day I purchased the paintings, I decided to go to Babylon that night. It had been weeks since I’d been - since the night of the waltz. There would be no waltzing at the club, instead I’d let the pulsating beat of the music wash over me and let the beast out for a night. It had been too long caged. I could feel his presence the moment I walked through the door. It quickened my heart like no drug could, though I kept the mask I’d perfected, perfectly centered on my face. I strolled through the sweaty bodies covered in glitter and they parted as they should for the beast, for this was MY territory and in here I was king – I looked neither left nor right. I didn’t need to. I knew I was getting closer as I took the cat walk steps two at a time heading for my favorite bar. A double Beam appeared like magic in my hand and before I could take my money out of my pocket, a bill was slapped on the bar. I looked over and my beauty raised his eyebrows and silently toasted me with the half empty bottle of beer he had in his hand. I nodded cool in the flashing strobe lights and turned away to watch the dancers down below, my stomach churning at the wonder of him standing so close. His chest was bare and glistening with sweat from dancing, the soft folds of his shirt hanging loose to provocatively cover the stiffened nubs of his breasts. I damn near came in my pants when I saw the glitter of a gold ring piercing one nipple when he moved as he took a long swallow from his cold drink. We stood there side by side watching the dancers, both of us tense from the closeness, both of us unable to talk both from the loudness of the music and the nervous tension that had built up between us in the past few weeks of long looks, and furtive touches. I was about to ask him to dance when Mikey and the boys arrived. They hadn’t seen me there in so long that their mouths never stopped moving as drink and excitement made them recount story after story of my prowess in the back rooms. Recounting how I used and discarded trick after trick and I could see the light slowly dim in his blue eyes as he listened to them reveal the beast that stood in their midst until finally there was no light at all, only emptiness. I shut my eyes for a moment so that I wouldn’t see the pain and when I opened them he was gone. Gone from Babylon and I was very much afraid, gone from my life. I roared with anger at my friends who hadn’t seen the beast in me for a long, long time. I know they didn’t understand what was wrong. I almost threw my glass on the bar before angrily making my way back outside only to see the red eyes of his tail lights disappear around a corner. I spent the rest of the weekend looking at his painting, the one by the chaise and where I saw love and peace in it before, now I saw swirling anger and disappointment. I sat there for hours, for once not resorting to my usual pain relievers of Beam and weed and thought about what I wanted to do with my life, and where I wanted it to be in the future. I knew that my future lay with my beauty. I had known that from the moment I’d first set eyes on him. I was time for me to tame the beast in me if I wanted to have him in my life. I arrived at work well before Cynthia or any of the others, embarrassed to be seen with the single perfectly formed yellow rose. I let myself into his office with the master key that was kept in Cynthia’s desk and laid the rose on his desk. I retreated to my own office, not turning on my lights, preferring to sit in the shadowed gloom sipping my non-fat latte and waiting for the arrival of enough staff to allow my lights to be seen. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d arrived first. The games began again. By the end of the second week it was becoming almost impossible to smuggle the roses in and I finally had to enlist Cynthia’s aid. I thought I’d be embarrassed admitting my feelings for my beauty to her, but instead it felt good having someone else know. The third week, Cynthia suggested I change from yellow roses to perfectly formed hand dipped chocolates from a Parisian Chocolatier. She had discovered a place that had them flown in daily and knowing the way my beauty loved food I thought it was a great idea. For the next two weeks a different chocolate appeared on his desk nestled on a white paper doily. Of course we continued to work together, I continued to touch him whenever I thought I could get away with it and slowly the stiffness in his body began to disappear, until once again his eyes danced and his smile brightened when I walked into his office or encountered him in the hallways. I knew I had gambled and won when I arrived at work to find a blood red rose in the center of my own desk. I’m sure that I had a Cheshire Cat grin on my face the entire day. I sent Cynthia out to purchase a crystal bud vase and I sat it on my desk with the rose in it and grinned every time it caught my eye. When the work day ended and I was contemplating going home and wondering if I should take my rose, I heard a soft knock on my office door and watched it open before I could say a word. “Mr. Kinney, Brian,” he said and he looked into my eyes with that soft little flutter his blue eyes did that made my stomach clench. “Would you have dinner with me tonight?” “A date?” I asked and I almost gave my patented ‘I don’t do dates’ speech when I realized that there was nothing that I wanted more than to have a date with my beauty. “I would love to have dinner with you.” And the beast that was Brian Kinney began to recede into a distant memory. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Hey, you guys promised not to ask him about how we met. You know he spins a long drawn out story and that means a late bedtime. No, I’m not going to tell you my side of the story – Oh for heaven sake, let me get comfy, this man is getting more bony every year. It started out with me getting an award for my work with underprivileged kids in the arts program at a few of the local high schools. No big deal, one of those civic feel good things. It was at the Country Club, yes the same one we go to now. I walked into the ballroom where the event was being held. I was with a good friend, but we were only friends, even though the beast here likes to pretend otherwise. I sensed him right away and when I looked at him, I could hardly breathe, I was sure I was going to have an asthma attack right then and there. Instead I ignored him; well I tried to ignore him. He was sitting at my table and he kept playing with his silver ware and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was. His friend was with him, I thought maybe they were a couple, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out that they were only friends. I received the award and I remember how pissed I was with him; he didn’t even look at me when I said my thank you speech. I was of course sitting beside him. The whole time he never said a word but every now and then I’d catch him staring at me. I felt like I was in high school again. Dinner was wonderful, but he kept playing with his food until I couldn’t stand it any longer, I was going to stab him with my fork, but my manners took over and I offered to eat his dinner for him. When dessert time came, it was kind of sweet how he pushed his chocolate cake over to me. Then there was the dancing, you know how I adore dancing, well it was the same then. Ethan asked me to dance and mom and dad were dancing so I spent at least half an hour on the dance floor lost in the music until Ethan started to bitch about the beast here and how he kept staring at me. I was about to let him have it when there he was, the handsomest man in the place. He bowed down in a perfect bow and if he hadn’t already had my heart that would have done it. He danced with me like something out of an old fashioned movie. Everyone stopped and watched, it was completely romantic and wonderful. I was devastated when he took me back to our table and he left soon after. Did I tell you how wonderful he smelled? I know you kids laugh about it, but he had this amazing scent, he still does. Stop it, no kissing; it’s my turn to tell the story. The day Cynthia let me into his office and formally introduced us was most definitely one I’ll never forget. And he had my favorite three paintings on the wall. I remember the day they sold, how excited I was that someone had liked my work well enough to buy not just one, but all three and suddenly I realized who had bought them. If I’d had the guts I would have kissed him right then and there. Of course I behaved myself, though it was tough because the man was so hot he smoldered. But somehow I didn’t think it was appropriate to jump your new boss before you began your new job, maybe later, but not on the first day. And then, with Monday, my weeks of torture began. He kept showing up in my office, in the art room, in the bathrooms. Everywhere I was he’d be and he’d touch me, just a hand in the middle of my back, a touch on my arm, my hand, nothing spectacular, but enough that I was slowly being driven insane. I wanted him to make the first move but the man is impossible, he has waaaaaay to much self-control. I was about to take matters into my own hands when low and behold who shows up at Babylon, but the beast himself. I bought him a drink and I was getting up the nerve to ask him to dance when his friends arrived, all of them tipsy and I gathered they hadn’t seen him there for a number of weeks. The next thing I know they are trying to out brag each other with Brian Kinney stories and trust me boys and girls, he was a big damn slut. I was unbelievably pissed. Here I’d been weaving this romantic story in my head as we went through the ridiculous courtship dance he had us doing and all the while the man couldn’t keep it in his pants even if it was crazy glued there – something I did consider. Ow – no biting, that was a bite, not a love nip, I know the difference. I had pretty much talked myself out of having anything to do with him – even though we’d never actually managed to get together – when I arrive at work to find a perfectly shaped yellow rose on my desk. I knew right away where it came from, but I didn’t say a word. If he wanted me he damn well was going to have to work at it. Two weeks of roses had my allergies pretty much in full bloom – so to speak – so I suggested to Cynthia she get him on a different kick. I told her about these super expensive chocolates, the damn things are about three bucks each but I love them. And no I won’t share the ones in the freezer. So for the next couple of weeks I indulged in chocolate. I saw him sitting outside of my house one night – ha – I knew he’d never tell you about his little stalker efforts – and I felt sorry for stringing him along. I mean I loved the old beast no matter how slutty he was in the past. So I gave him a rose to let him know and then asked him out on a date Where did we go? Why I took him out for dinner at the nicest place I knew, one that offered privacy and good food. I fully intended to have my way with him. Oh, I took him home to my place. It was a Friday night and I don’t believe we surfaced until some time on Tuesday. What were we doing? Oh things, this and that, talking. Now all of you get to bed before your parents come home; it’s after eleven. Yes we still love each other. Yes we still go dancing. I know he’s fallen asleep, he’s an old man what do you expect. You grandkids can come and visit him tomorrow. He loves to tell you his stories. “I’m not an old man.” Said a sleepy voice. “Eighty two isn’t old.” “Who’s eighty two? I only see a my handsome beast with his auburn hair and his flashing hazel eyes that stole my heart.” “I love you my beauty.” “And I love you my beast.”