Why Not With Me?

Chapter Six: Bearing Gifts

-----------Michael’s Point of View----------

Ding-dong!

I look at the clock. It just turned 8. Who the fuck is actually exactly on time? 

Ding-dong!

Someone impatient, I guess, who’s gonna have to wait for me to finish setting the table. 

Ding-dong!

“Who is that at the fucking door? Answer it already, Michael.” The loud voice from the kitchen.

“I’ll get it, Deb,” Ben says with a smile. I don’t know how he has so much patience for my mother.

“Hey, Professor! So, where’s the party?” 

I turn around, thinking that my ears must be deceiving me. Surely Brian is not actually the first person to arrive at Hunter’s party.

Then again, who else would have rung the doorbell three times in thirty seconds?

“Hey Brian…Thanks for coming. But there is no party.”

“Of course not, it’s not a party til I get here,” he insists as Ben takes his leather jacket.

Leave it to Brian to come to a small “congratulations” party and act like he’s expecting a night at the White Party.

“No, actually this time it’s because you’re the first person here,” Ben corrects him gently.

Brian looks around and I swear he seems a little embarrassed at the news. The great Brian Kinney, so anxious for company tonight that he’s at a family gathering on time. 

“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing toward a large bag he has with him. 

“Just my little contribution to tonight’s festivities,” he says, pulling out a bottle of Chivas to demonstrate.

“Oooh, the good stuff! Awesome. You can take it into the kitchen,” I say. Brian has such great taste in alcohol.

“Oh. Well, where’s the guest of honor, our own little college-bound ex-hustler?” He continues, putting the bottle back in the bag.

“Not here yet. He’s getting home at 8:30.” 

“But I’m here,” my mother calls out from the kitchen, “you could at least say hello.”

----------------------------- Deb’s Point of View -------------------------

It has been years since Brian last hung around the house like this… Chatting and sitting with me, almost like a normal person.

As much as I’d like to think he’s suddenly grown infinitely fonder of our company, I remember too well the last time this happened. It was when Brian was about fifteen, right after he and Mikey met. When the abuse at his house was bad enough for him to need to leave, but before he had a car and had anyplace else he could go.

I wonder what’s bringing him here now….

“So Brian, how was Justin’s art show? I haven’t gotten to talk to him in forever,” I ask, stirring the simmering pot of spaghetti sauce.

He’s fiddling with the napkins that I was trying to fold, undoing all my good work.

“The show was great. He sold seven paintings the first night.” 

“I’m not surprised; he’s one hell of an artist. I’m glad he’s making it out there in the big city though.” 

“Of course he is,” Brian replies with his usual dismissive tone. When I glance over, he has completely unfolded my best origami swan napkin.

“Can you leave those alone, please?” I demand sharply.

He freezes, just as he was about to undo another swan, and looks at me with mischief in his eyes. 

“If you want something to do, why don’t you get the drinks out of the refrigerator,” I suggest.

“No need. I brought something.” If I’m not mistaken there’s just a hint of pride in his voice. I look over, my eyebrows raised. It’s not every day that Brian comes bearing gifts.

He has a bag with him that he’s taking off the table. 

“First, because I’ve noticed that Mikey and the Professor never have the hard stuff --” he offers up a bottle of  Chivas Regal.

“Brian, this isn’t exactly the kind of celebration we’re going for. I’d like to be able to remember it in the morning. Besides, Hunter’s not of age yet.”

He sneers at me and continues, “Because I was anticipating some naiveté and prudish attitudes…” and pulls out a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. Even I have to smile at that. 

“And,” he continues, his voice suddenly more serious, “because it really is a special occasion.” He hands me a bottle of very fancy looking Chardonnay. 

“Shit, Brian, you didn’t have to do all this,” I exclaim, wondering how much he’d spent on this bottle. Well, he can afford it, I guess.

“Well, I just wanted to have a decent alcohol selection, since I’m spending my night here instead of at Babylon,” he says, trying to fix the swan napkin. I take it from him and catch his eye.

“Thanks Brian. It was really thoughtful of you to bring this stuff.” 

He nods, holding my gaze for a moment before looking down, almost shyly. Then he walks into the living room. 

----------------------------- Hunter’s Point of View -------------------------

Tonight’s not exactly a surprise, so I guess I could have come home at 8, but I figured I’d give everyone time to schmooze about my accomplishments before I made my grand entrance. 

Riding up to the house on my bike, I’m surprised to see Brian’s Corvette already here. I never would have pegged him for the type to show up to this kind of party. I guess Justin’s really tamed him more than any of us have realized, if this is what Brian does even when Justin’s not in town. 

When I come in, everyone pretty much makes the fuss I was expecting. You’d swear nobody’d ever been accepted to college before, like I was the first one ever to go to this new and far-off land.

It was pretty sweet the way everyone was talking about what a great school University of Maryland is, though, and even Brian was impressed when Ben told him about my swimming scholarship.

In the middle of dinner, Michael stands up and makes a speech. It was pretty sappy and just about the corniest thing I’d ever heard -- he’s practically reciting that stupid “Oh, the Places You’ll Go” book by Dr. Seuss.  But then, just when I think I can’t roll my eyes any harder, Deb shows up with liquor! 

“Uhh, I’ll take a Chivas,” I say in my smoothest voice.

“You will not. You might be the guest of honor, but you’re still only 18 and you’ll have the sparkling grape juice.”

Damn. Well, it was worth a shot.

“Where did these come from?” Lindsay asks, pouring herself and Mel some Chardonnay. 

“From Brian,” Deb says with a shrug.  

“Obviously,” I say, sipping my sparkling grape juice, “none of the rest of you have the cash to spend on this.” 

“That’s pretty rude,” Deb admonishes me with a frown. What? I’m just telling it like it is! 

“Yeah, but it’s true,” Mel concedes. Thank you, Mel. At least someone else here is honest.

The time passes pretty fast. I’m hoping somebody will get drunk, but it doesn’t seem likely. Ben’s indulging in the grape juice with me. All the girls are falling for the fancy stuff. Mikey went for the Chivas, but he’s still on his first one. 

Brian’s finishing his third, but I know it’ll take a lot more than that before he’s drunk. If I wasn’t sitting here counting I wouldn’t even be able to tell he’d been drinking at all. 

After a while, everyone is wrapped up in conversation, mostly about Justin’s art show, which apparently went pretty well. Just then, Brian comes over to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey -- I forgot something out in the car. It’s for you. I’ll go get it.” 

For me? Awesome! Maybe he got me a little bottle of Schnapps. 

 I’m getting pretty sick of hearing about New York City, so I go wait in the living room for Brian to return.

When he does, he’s carrying a package that’s actually wrapped. I wasn’t expecting that at all. And it isn’t shaped like liquor, which is too bad.

He hands it to me without saying anything and he goes to sit on the other couch. 

I rip into the package quickly,  wondering what in the world Brian would give me.  Something flatish, rectangular --- 

“Oh my god, my own laptop!” Holy fucking shit! This is a really expensive 17 inch Apple MacBook Pro! This is fucking AWESOME!! I’m tearing open the box pretty frantically. I’ve been wanting one of these practically forever. I can make videos on this, or music, or just about fucking anything I want! 

Then I remember my manners and stop long enough to glance at Brian. He’s watching me, but as soon as I look at him, he pretends to be watching the news, which is pretty lame considering the volume isn’t even on.

“Thanks Brian! This is great!” He glances toward me and smiles a little bit.

“I figured you could probably use it for school,” he replies. Well, duh. 

“I will! Wow, I love this! This is like, the best computer ever,” I say, plugging in the charger so I can get this thing going. 

“So, why’d you spend so much money just on me?” I ask, glad that Debbie’s not around to hear that question. 

“Well, going to college is a pretty big deal. And University of Maryland is a good school. I thought you ought to start off right; start off with the best.”

“I guess your parents must’ve made a pretty big deal out of it when you got into college. Michael says you went to a really good school.” Michael talks about Brian like all the time.

I look over, since the computer’s charging now. Brian’s looking off somewhere in the distance.

“No, they didn’t really,” he says, his voice kinda strange, like too quiet or something.

Just then, Mikey comes in.

“Hey, come on back to your party. We’re just about to bring out the cake.” Then he sees the computer on the coffee table. 

“Hey! That’s a MacBook! Where’d you get that?”

“Brian,” I say, still pretty amazed by the whole thing.

“Wow -- let’s look at that while we finish the cake,” Michael says. I swear he is such a geek sometimes.

Brian gets up and at first I think he’s going back to the dining table, but instead he turns toward the bathroom. 

“You okay, Brian? You look a little funny,” I hear Michael say as he flips open the computer.

“I’m fine.” Then the bathroom door shuts. 

------------------------------ Brian’s Point of View --------------------------------

Fuck. 

I walk to the bathroom as normally as I can, considering that I suddenly feel like I’m not even at Debbie’s house anymore. I feel like I’m at Jack and Joanie’s all the sudden.

Fuck!

I close the toilet seat and sit on it, my feet resting on the bathtub. I put my head on my knees for a second. I can’t stand the feeling of seeing two different places at once any longer and I shut my eyes. 

“Brian, some mail came for you today.” I just got home from work, my after school job making copies for Johnston Advertising Agency. I worked as late as they would let me. It’s almost nine o’clock now.

My mother is holding out an envelope to me and her hand is shaking because she’s drunk.

I reach for it and she pulls away so I can’t grab it.

“I opened it already,” she confesses, turning the envelope so I can see the ripped edge. I also catch the return address. Carnegie Mellon.  I’ve been waiting for this for months. I hadn’t even told my parents -- or anyone -- that I’d applied.

“It’s okay, just let me have it,” I say, reaching for it again. 

“You forgive me?” she slurs, unsteady on her feet as she comes a little closer to me. I sigh.

 Every time she wants this. Forgiveness. My forgiveness. God’s forgiveness. Whosever. 

“Yes, sure, fine, whatever. I forgive you. Now give me the envelope.” 

She smiles and breaks into a grin. I guess it’s a relief to be forgiven. 

I take it from her and turn into my room, to read it in private. Settling in on my desk chair, I pull the papers out. My eyes focus slowly but finally I can read it. 

I got in.

I jump out of my chair in excitement and go running back into the kitchen, where Joanie is pouring another shot of vodka. 

“I got in, Mom! I made it into Carnegie Mellon!” 

I stand there, holding the letter open as if it’s a magical shield that will clear everything in its path.

She looks at me, setting down her shot glass momentarily.

“Is that good?” she asks, resting her head on her hands. 

Why did I even tell her! Why! Fuck…never should have said anything.

“Yeah, it’s one of the top schools in the country and they have a great business school,” I say, trying desperately to salvage my excitement.

“I didn’t even know you applied,” she says accusingly.  I don’t know what to say to that. Joanie doesn’t know anything about my life at all.

“Well I did, and I got in.”

“Good to know you care so much about your little old parents that you’ve decided to tell us where you’ll be living, what you’ll be doing.”

I look at her, disgusted. She’s about to pass out. Her makeup is smudged. She must have been crying at some point tonight because her mascara is smeared down her face. And it looks like she tried to put on more lipstick while drunk, because it veers a little ways from her lips.

I turn to walk away and she raises her glass to me. 

“It’s been nice knowin’ ya, kid,” she toasts, her voice hazy.

Fuck I have to get out of here. I turn left, to the living room, to the door out. Unfortunately Jack  is there now, watching football.

“What’s this I hear about you goin’ to college?” he demands, his voice booming. 

“I got into Carnegie Mellon.” There is no excitement left in my voice. I just stop where I am and answer, starting at the space above his head.

He looks at me and waves his arms to the side. I guess I’m blocking the TV screen. Just then, as I’m about to leave, a commercial starts.

“Carnegie Mellon, huh? Well, well, well. Bet you’ll be glad to finally get your pretty little ass out of here,” he says, taking a swig of his Budweiser. 

I don’t know what to say to that, either.  He’s so right.

“They take fags there?” His eyebrows are raised and his mouth is wide, quivering at the edges like he’s getting ready to share a big laugh with me at his little joke.

I look at him, my hand on the doorknob. There is nothing to say.

“Do they even know you’re a fag? Did ya have to tell ‘em about that, Sonny Boy?”

He starts laughing, his voice drowning out the commercials. 

I set my jaw and decide just to leave for tonight. I grab my bike and start peddling through the darkness.

When I get to Debbie’s, she’s making spaghetti, standing there over the stove, stirring the sauce.

I come out of it when I hear a knock at the door. 

Shit. How long have I been in here?

“I’ll be out in a second,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady.

I stand up and go over to the mirror. I look fucking horrible. Pale, sweaty, eyes bloodshot. I turn on the water as cold as it will go and splash my face a few times.

Then I take a few deep breaths and open the door.

------------------------ Ben’s Point of View ----------------------

I’m not sure how long Brian was in the bathroom, but he looked terrible when he came out. 

His hair was plastered to his forehead and he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“You alright, Brian?”

He walks past me and looks more than a little shaken.

“Too much of the good stuff?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. I regret it when Brian looks at me, his eyes bloodshot and a shade or two darker than normal. 

He just shakes his head.

“Come on, you better sit down for a minute until you feel better,” I say, leading him to the couch. He sits and lays his head back against the  couch.  He really doesn’t look well at all. I bring him a glass of water, almost unnoticed by the crowd gathered around Hunter’s new computer.

“Thanks,” he says, gratefully taking the glass and sipping the water. 

“What happened?” I ask, sitting beside him. 

“I don’t know, just started feeling kind of sick, I guess.” 

Neither of us said anything for a while as he finished his water. 

“Hunter likes the computer?” he asks, looking over toward the kitchen.

“He loves it. I think everyone’s enthralled. They’re trying to make a video of themselves or something.” 

He nods and closes his eyes for a second.

“That was a great gift; I know he really appreciates it and so do I,” I say.

“He deserves it.” 

“Yeah, he does.” 

I’d rarely seen this side of Brian before, away from the crowd and quiet. It was a nice change.

“Are you feeling better? Do you need anything?” He nods affirmatively.

He opens his eyes and stands up.  He does look a lot better.

“Yeah. I’ve got to be going though. Tell everyone I said goodbye.” 

-----------------------Brian’s Point of View --------------------------

I was so glad to get out of Debbie’s house. That was pretty embarrassing. At least it was Ben who found me. The Novotnys would have made a huge deal of it and the girls would’ve coddled me. So I guess I was sort of lucky.

I pull open the door of the loft, grateful for the familiar setting and the quiet. I take a few aspirin, feeling my head start to pound. Then I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower, sliding the knob to extra hot. Soon, the water is pounding on me, nearly burning me, taking my mind far away for little while.  I take a few deep breaths as the bathroom fills with steam.

The only sound in the apartment is the water streaming down against the tiles and the glass.

After a little while, it’s getting far too hot in here. I turn off the water and dry off. The apartment is silent now. 

In the bedroom, I light a joint and let the smoke fill my lungs. I can feel myself relaxing, feel the tension slipping away, the memories of tonight getting softer around the edges. 

Taking out my cell phone, I press the button for Justin’s cell.

“Hey Brian, how are you?” He answers the phone so warmly. It’s like he’s purring. I wonder if that’s for everyone, or because he saw my name on his screen. 

“I’m okay. Doing better now,” I say, taking another deep hit.

“What was wrong before?” he asks.

“Just a long day. Too much going on,” I lie because I don’t want Justin to panic. He is always telling me that I never need to lie to him. But he’s all the way in New York and it’ll hurt him to think that he wasn’t here to help me, or whatever. He’ll think he could’ve done something. 

And I’m not really lying. It was a really, really long day, and there is too much going on.

He doesn’t say anything and I think he knows I’m leaving something out. I hear him let out a long breath.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I just miss you.” That is God’s honest truth. I let the smoke out in smoke rings above my head. 

“I miss you, too… I wish I was there, right now. Touching you…wish I had my mouth licking you right now, licking your balls, sucking at them til they’re wet and full in my mouth, making you shudder --”

Oh, Christ, Justin. You always know just what to say.

“Oh yeah? You wanna give me a blow job, do you?” I am so glad I called him. I put the joint out. I won’t need that for the rest of the night.

“Mmmmhmmm. I’d take you so deep into my throat, and I’d start panting so you could feel the puffs of hot air on your dick --” 

My hands are well-lubed now and my right hand is busy -- I don’t know when that happened.

“Oh god yes, Justin, then what would you do? I’d be so hard in your mouth…could you take me all the way in?’ 

“I’d take you in so deep, then I’d start humming and you’d feel the vibrations shooting through you. You’d be shaking and moaning -- you’re shaking now, aren’t you Brian?” 

Oh god, yes I was.

“Uhhh huh,” I say, my eyes slipping shut. Somehow I notice his breath is getting pretty ragged too. 

“You’d think you were gonna cum -- then I’d use my hand to pull up your balls, I’d make you wait for me, Brian. Would you wait, so we can come together?’

I swear he’s panting, just like me. It makes his voice so fucking seductive. 

I toss the phone on the bed, my thumb hitting the speakerphone button just in time.

“Uhh, I’ll wait but I’m so close,” I groan, using my right hand to delay my climax just like Justin said he would be.

“Good, I wanna come with you…I’d be rutting against you, Brian.  Against those long, lean, golden legs of yours. You’d see me there, desperate in front of you,  humping your leg while I sucked you off -- oh god Brian, I’m so hard!” 

“Ohhh god me too,” I groan, biting my lip. Phone sex with Justin is actually better than real sex with anyone else, though I’d never admit that to anyone.

“Then -- then I’d start swallowing and the sensation would be too much and I’d let your balls free and I’d just keep swallowing and humping your leg til I was swallowing your cum down my throat --” 

We came together in strangled, un-muted groans, my load shooting to my ankles. 

It’s about two minutes until either of us can talk. I know he’s still on the other line because I can hear his breathing, still heavy. 

“Good night, Brian,” he says softly and I can tell he‘s about to fall asleep. “I love you.” 

“Good night,” I reply and close the phone. 

 I love him so much. Right now I couldn’t remember today if someone paid me to do it.

I fall asleep almost immediately, holding my pillow against my body.