Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

Brian and Justin discuss what occurred at the awards banquet - with dismaying results. 

 

 

"Looking for someone?" he heard a familiar voice call out to him from a few feet away.  He turned around, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating.  Justin was standing near one of the large, potted plants against the wall, a soft smile on his face.  He looked incredibly handsome and sexy in his dark, navy-blue suit, white silk shirt, and navy-and-white, pin-striped tie.  His hair shown radiantly underneath the recessed lighting above, and his eyes seemed to reflect a thousand pinpricks of color.  He was glowing from the inside out, and Brian couldn't help smiling back at him, despite the circumstances.

 

 

"Maybe," he replied softly as he slowly walked up to him until they were inches from each other, his previous fury abating somewhat as he stared into Justin's eyes. With most people, this violation of personal space would make them feel uncomfortable; with the two of them, however, it was almost akin to breathing.  "What are you doing here, Mr. Taylor?  And where did you get that suit?  Looks quite expensive on an intern's salary."

 

 

Justin grimaced.  "It is - I think.  Mr. Winslow persuaded one of his employees to lend me one of their suits tonight; there's no way I could have afforded to buy it - or even rent it, for that matter."  He flashed a stunning smile back at him.  "Wasn't all this exciting, though!" he exclaimed, his face lit up with happiness.  "There was so much energy in the room! And you WON Advertising Agency of the Year, Brian!  Oh, my God!  Winslow was fit to be tied when they called out your name; he blabbered on and on all evening about that award, and how he was sure to win again tonight."  He laughed.  "I thought his face was going to implode when Kinnetik's name was announced, instead!"  He grinned.  "I was secretly rooting for you the entire time, you know. And I got my wish!" he exclaimed. He quickly flung his arms around Brian's neck and pulled his face down for a brief but deep kiss.

 

Pulling back after several seconds, he furrowed his brow as he noticed an odd look appear on Brian's face.  "You didn't look too happy when you saw me earlier," he observed.

 

"It wasn't because I wasn't glad to see you," Brian reassured him as he placed his hands on Justin's upper arms.   "Justin..." He opened his mouth to start to explain what he had heard a few minutes ago, but Justin interrupted him. 

 

 

Justin chuckled.  "I know; you were just surprised I was here with the enemy."  He smiled broadly.  "Brian..."

 

 

"What?"  He stared into Justin's face; he looked like someone who had won the lottery.  His entire face was flush with excitement as words began to pour out of his mouth in a torrent: 

 

 

"I...I never thought I would ever be all that interested in an art career that had to do with advertising.  But now...Brian, this has been such a rush!  Being able to work as a team with everyone, and having them take my work seriously...and being asked to come here tonight!  Holy shit!  Do you know that Marcum was the one who actually called StrataG and asked that I be here tonight as part of their team?  He called Winslow and practically demanded it!  He said I deserved to be here, and obviously Winslow agreed, because he went to all this trouble to get me to come! Brian, he even brought me here in a fucking limo!"  His eyes grew wide in realization as he noticed how empty the room was now, and he laughed as he put one hand over his mouth temporarily.  "Oh, shit! I excused myself to take a look at some artwork they had hanging up in the hallway over there, and I didn't keep track of the time.  I bet they were waiting for me to come back for the ride home, and I never showed up! I completely forgot!  Now I've been stranded."  He peered over at Brian slyly.  "Something tells me, though, that I can probably hitch a ride with someone else..."  He paused as he noticed a troubled look appear on Brian's face in reaction; was he being too presumptuous?  Or was it something else?  His eyes grew wide.  "Fuck. I know you're not too happy about me working for your competitor, but..."

 

 

Brian shook his head as he quickly reassured him, "It's not that, Justin."  He glanced around, noticing everyone had practically left by now; only a few of the smartly-dressed wait staff were still remaining, and it was apparent by the condition of the room that everyone would be gone soon; it was almost back to normal now, with no evidence of what had transpired just a short time before.  "But I DO need to talk to you about something."

 

 

Justin frowned.  "Okay..."  He bit his lower lip a little anxiously; Brian looked so serious.  He should have been euphoric about his award, but he looked more like his puppy had died or something.  "What is it?  If you can't drive me home, I'm sure I can find a..."

 

 

"No.  That's not it at all."  Brian sighed.  Justin seemed so damn happy right now.  Apparently Winslow was a consummate actor, and so far he had done an amazing job of hiding his homophobic nature.  To Justin, the man was a godsend. "I..."  Shit, what should he do?  He despised people like Winslow, who spoke out of both sides of their mouth. 

 

 

"Brian...tell me," Justin quietly demanded.  "What's going on?"  His eyes bored into the other man's, leaving Brian no alternative but to obey. 

 

 

"Justin, I was in the men's room a few minutes ago - and so was Winslow and some other guy who sounded like Palmer." 

 

 

Justin chuckled.  "I bet he was thrilled to run into you, Mr. Big Shot Advertising Genius."

 

 

Brian shook his head.  "No, you don't understand," he told him quietly, not returning his smile.  "They didn't know I was there; I was on the other side of the sinks.  But I could hear what they were saying very clearly."  Justin studied him silently as he hesitated.  Damn, he hated to tell Justin this, but he had to.  He dropped his hands from Justin's arms, brushing his right one through his hair in awkwardness.  "Justin...they were talking about you."

 

 

Justin stared back at him in surprise.  "They were?"  He smiled.  "Were they stunned by my brilliance?" he teased.  His smile faded, however, as he noticed the serious expression on Brian's face.  "What?  Brian, just come out with it! What did they say about me?"

 

 

"Well, it was more Winslow than the other guy. I know it was him talking because of what he was saying about my winning the award tonight, and I'd know his voice anywhere."  He took a deep breath, seeing blue eyes boring into his.  "Justin, I heard him call you a..."  Justin frowned slightly as he shook his head in resignation.  "Oh, shit," he muttered.  He hated this.  He took another deep breath and let it out.   "He called you a fairy artist.

 

 

"A what?" 

 

 

"You heard me, Justin!"  Brian said a little more vociferously than he had intended, upset over recalling the man's words in his head.  He was still seething inside, and he did NOT want to repeat it again.  "He said some other things, too," he hastened to add before he ran out of courage.  "He...He said he was only keeping you there as an intern because of how talented you are.  But he told the other guy how it made him sick to think about ‘one of them' jumping him when he walked down the hallway, or something to that effect."  He stared sympathetically into Justin's face, seeing his previous sunny disposition quickly fading.  "I'm sorry, Justin," he murmured sorrowfully, trying to decipher his lover's expression.  "I wish I hadn't had to tell you that, but I thought you needed to know."   Justin remained oddly silent.  "Justin?" 

 

 

Justin shook his head in disbelief.  "No...No...He wouldn't have said that.  He likes my work. He's always been very appreciative of my contributions.  He offered me full-time employment, Brian! And he brought me here tonight.  That can't be true..." 

 

 

Brian reached over and grasped his upper arms again, his fingers curling around the blond's shoulder blades.  "Justin, I know what I heard.  I didn't misunderstand. He's only being polite to you because he needs your talent, and Starlight's account is dependent upon your being their artist.  I know him, Justin. I know people like him.  He's a user. He only does things that will benefit HIM. And right now, he knows you're his ace in the hole. That's why he asked you to come here tonight.  Only your talent and creativity weren't quite enough to bring home the Advertising Agency of the Year award for him this time." 

 

 

"No...NO!" Justin cried out in dismay as he shook his head in denial.  "You're just saying that, Brian! You're making that up!  You just want me to come and work for YOU! That's what it is!  He is not like that!"  His face contorted with pain as he pulled away from Brian's embrace and backed slightly away from him.  "I can't believe you would do this, Brian.  I thought I meant more to you than that.  You're lying!" 

 

 

Brian was horrified.  This was NOT what he had expected.  "No, Justin!  Come on!" he reached out to grab the blond's arm, only to watch Justin shrink away.  "Don't be a fucking child!  Would I really lie to you about this?  I'm trying to help you here!" 

 

 

Justin's eyes flashed a dark blue.  "Well, I don't NEED your kind of help, Brian, and I am NOT a child!" he exclaimed.  "Just leave me the hell alone!" 

 

 

Brian's mouth hung open.  How could he believe that asshole Winslow and not HIM?  "Well, you're acting like one right now!  Fine!" he shouted back at him.  "If you want to work for a bigot, go right ahead! You deserve each other!"  Without a look back, he pivoted on his leather Gucci shoes and headed toward the door, leaving Justin standing there in shock as the few employees remaining in the banquet room turned to gape at the spectacle.  His face burning - and tears stinging his eyes - Justin pressed his lips together in embarrassment as he quickly headed toward the opposite exit door from Brian, wondering how in the hell he would get home now - and, more importantly, trying to figure out what had just happened. 

 

 

Only when he had managed to flag down a cab several minutes later - and was sitting in the backseat, alone with his thoughts in the darkness - did he allow the tears of pain and sadness to flow freely down his cheeks.

 

 


 

 

The Next Day - Kinnetik

 

 

"I said, get the HELL out!" Brian roared as he reared his arm back and threw the storyboards at his employee.  Wilson barely had enough time to scurry from the room before the material hit the wall with a loud thump, causing one of Brian's paintings to teeter and then fall onto the floor, the glass frame splintering into a dozen pieces.

 

 

"Shit," he muttered as he reached for his glass of Beam and knocked it back in one gulp, feeling the sharp burn as it went down his throat.  Slamming the glass down onto his desk, he glared over at the door as he noticed Cynthia pop her head in.  "What the fuck do you want?" he growled.  "Get out."

 

 

Cynthia entered the room with a fearless swagger.  "That might work on Wilson, Brian, but it won't work on me."  She walked up and crossed her arms over her chest as she stood defiantly in front of his desk.  "You've been an asshole to everyone today.  And I'M the one everybody is bitching to about it.  What's going on?  You won the big prize last night," she pointed out as her gaze settled on the large, tall, crystal Advertising Agency of the Year Award, presently gracing her boss's wet bar on the other side of the room.  "You ought to be ecstatic to have finally wrestled it out of Winslow's hands."

 

 

Brian's face darkened.  "Winslow is a fucking prick and a homophobe," he told her sharply.  "He's a scumbag."  He had gone home last night, and after drinking himself into a stupor, he still hadn't been able to get to sleep.  All he did was rerun his conversation with Justin over and over again, trying to figure out if he could have done something differently - or said something else - to convince him that he was being truthful.  But he couldn't think of anything else he could have said except the truth.  He supposed it hadn't helped to call Justin a child. But his refusal to believe him had hurt him.  Why was he letting it bother him so much, though?  He didn't care THAT much for Justin...did he? 

 

 

"Brian?" 

 

 

He blinked as he lifted his eyes to stare up into his assistant's, realizing he had temporarily zoned out.  He sighed wearily, all the bluster and hostility of earlier gone now.  "What?" he asked quietly. 

 

 

"I said...why do you say that? I mean, I know the guy's a pompous jackass and a boor, but..." 

 

 

He shook his head.  "Just drop it, Cynthia," he told her firmly.  "Okay?" 

 

 

She stared into her boss's - and friend's - eyes for a moment before nodding, knowing as usual when it was best to not pursue something further.  She knew Brian would never say such an outrageous statement without proof - his career was built upon research and ascertaining all the facts he could about his clients - so she knew he would not make such a statement lightly.  HOW he knew, though, was apparently going to remain a mystery for now. She nodded her head finally.  "Okay," she told him softly as she turned to go.  "But if you need anything...I'm here." 

 

 

He nodded, brushing his hair back from his forehead as she headed toward the door.  "Cynthia?"

 

 

She turned around.  "Yeah?"

 

 

Brian exhaled a deep breath.  "Will you pick up those storyboards and take them back to Wilson?  Wait a minute."  He hurriedly jotted down some changes he wanted made to the font style, size, placement, and color before ripping the paper from a yellow legal pad.  "And tell him I want these changes made ASAP, or he can go visit HR and fill out his severance papers." 

 

 

She nodded with a quirk of her mouth as she walked over, took the piece of paper from Brian's hand, and replied, "Got it."  Taking a moment to pick up the storyboards, she turned around to add with a smile, "And I'll call maintenance about your...breakage problem, too." She received a slight smile in return before exiting Brian's office suite, leaving the room inexplicably quiet. 

 

 

Brian hated quiet. Between his son's bubbly nature and Justin's constant chatter when they were together, he had grown used to hearing...noise.  Lots and lots of noise.  Now, it was way too quiet for his taste.  Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was already mid-afternoon. Even though it was mid-week and he did not have custody again until the weekend, his sonny boy should be getting out of school about now, and he suddenly had an urge to see him.  He sat there in thought for a moment before he grabbed his suit jacket and headed toward the door.

 

 


 

 

Same time - StrataG's company headquarters across town...

 

"Justin?"  Kent Boyd stuck his head in the door of the Art Department, looking in the blond's direction. But Justin did not seem to hear him.  "Justin!" he called a little louder in slight exasperation. Normally, Justin was alert and proactive to what he needed; today, however, he seemed to be totally distracted.

 

Justin jerked his head up; his face warmed as he realized the head of the Art Department had been trying to get his attention.  "I'm sorry, Kent. You needed me?" he asked as the other man walked over to his drawing table. 

 

"Justin, what is wrong with you today?  You haven't been able to concentrate on anything I've asked you to do, and that's not like you.  Want to talk about it?" The young man's normally happy disposition - and simple joy in working here in his department - was sorely missing today.  He leaned over Justin's drawing table, placing both hands on the sides as he stared curiously into his intern's eyes.

 

Justin sighed.  Ever since he had left the conference center last night, he couldn't stop thinking about his and Brian's conversation.  He was so confused.  All this time he really thought Brian had cared about him. Had he been right all along the first time, though?  Had Brian merely befriended him again to try and lure him over to his company?  Was he only interested in what he could contribute to his bottom dollar?  He had no evidence that Winslow wasn't anything other than what he presented himself to be - a smart, driven, businessman who employed bright, ambitious, and inventive employees.  But then why would Brian have said those things?  Could he have been that wrong about him; about how he had treated him, how he had kissed him, how he had touched him? How he had made love to him? Because to him, that was what every kiss and every caress had been; it had not just meant having sex, although that had been incredible.  No, he had felt a lot more there.  He couldn't have been wrong about that...could he?  He squeezed his eyes shut briefly before opening them back up again to peer over at the other man. 

 

"I'm sorry, Kent. Really I am.  I...I've just had something on my mind today." 

 

Kent nodded.  "Well, Justin, I need you to focus on the Trident Sailboat account today. I asked you to have those changes made to the boards an hour ago," he told him as he glanced down at the drawing table, "and from the looks of things, you're still not done.  Now I don't know what's going on, but when you come here, you need to leave your personal problems at home.  Do you understand?" he asked quietly. 

 

Justin nodded back at him as Kent turned to go. Just as he did, however, Justin stopped him.  "Kent?" he asked quietly.

 

The older man turned around.  "Yeah?" 

 

Justin knew everyone else would be back from lunch anytime now; it was now or never.  "Can I ask you something privately? I mean, off the record, so to speak, just between you and me?" 

 

Kent frowned at the anxious tone in Justin's voice.  "Uh...sure. What do you want to know?"

 

"You promise this won't go any further than us?" Justin pressed.  He thought he could trust Kent. He liked the guy, and felt he had always been honest with him.  He was counting desperately on that now. 

 

Kent sighed. "Justin...the boards..."

 

"I know, I know. But please...promise me. It's important, okay?

 

Kent observed the worried look on Justin's face, and figured this must be at least part of the reason why his intern hadn't been very productive today.  "Okay, okay. I promise. Now what do you need to know?"

 

Justin took a deep breath.  "Well...for one thing...I'm gay."  He watched to see what reaction he would get from the other man. Would he shrink back from him in disgust? Would he think less of him?  He never knew what sort of reaction he would get; not that he made it a point of going around and announcing it, especially in the workplace. 

 

He watched at the other man shrugged back at him.  "Okay...So?"  He gave him a kind of smirk as he teased, "You're not trying to ask me out, are you?  Because I don't swing that way."

 

Justin shook his head and couldn't help grinning a little in relief over his nonchalant response.  "No...it's not that."  He let out another nervous breath.  "I guess I was just trying to get your reaction."

 

Kent nodded.  "Justin, I could care less whether you fuck women, men...or sheep, for that matter.  Not as long as you do your job here. Today, though, you've been in a fog.  So why don't you tell me the rest of what's on your mind? I doubt if that was all of it."

 

"No," the blond told him softly.  "I...Kent, I've heard rumors...about Winslow. About how he...how he's a homophobe.  About how he only puts up with gays because of their talent and abilities, but how he practically turns around and runs the other way whenever he walks by one.  Is that true?"  There, it was out in the open now.  He held his breath as the other man stared back at him incredulously.  Was it because he was surprised he found out about him - or shock over his insinuation? 

 

"Justin, where did you hear THAT?" he asked.

 

Justin's face flushed.  Despite his argument with Brian last night, he wasn't about to divulge where he had heard it. He still didn't want to get Brian into any sort of trouble, although it wasn't like he had been purposely eavesdropping - if it was even true.  "I'd prefer not to say," he finally replied.  "But someone told me that he had overheard him making those sort of statements, and I need to know if it's true."

 

Kent furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he stared back at him.  "Justin, I don't know who told you that. But I've worked with the guy for two years now, and I've never heard any sort of bigoted talk come out of his mouth. He's never done anything in MY presence to indicate he feels that way.  Are you sure this other person isn't just jealous of the guy's success, maybe, and simply wants to make trouble for him?  Who is it, anyway; one of the employees here who maybe has some bone to pick with him?   You know how employees can sometimes feel out of sorts about something."  He snorted.  "Talk about biting the hand that feeds you, though..."

 

"No," Justin mumbled self-consciously; a little uncomfortable that he may have revealed too much, or led him in the wrong direction.  "Nobody who works here." 

 

Kent nodded.  "Well, there you have it, then. It must be someone who's just envious of our success here."  He smiled understandingly.  "Justin, advertising can be a very cutthroat business.  You can't take everything people say to heart.  Okay?"  He placed a hand briefly on his employee's sleeve and squeezed it before letting go.  "Now if that's settled, how about concentrating on those boards for me? I need them before the end of the day." 

 

Justin sighed with a nod.  "Yeah. Thanks.  And sorry; I won't let it happen again." 

 

Kent nodded as he turned to go.  "No problem. This time," he added with a grin before he turned and headed out the door. 

 

Justin watched his immediate supervisor leave, his emotions all tangled up. He was glad to hear that Winslow apparently was NOT a bigot, but he was extremely confused and sad.  He still didn't want to believe that Brian would resort to such tactics, just to get him to come to work for him. It simply didn't gel with the person he (thought) he had come to know and lo....Fuck.  Wait a minute!  He wasn't really thinking that...was he? 

 

He scrubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes.  "Brian..." he murmured.  "What are you doing to me?" he softly lamented.  He just couldn't stop thinking about him.  He glanced down at the storyboards and sighed.  Picking up a graphite pencil, he forced himself to get back to work. 

 

 


 

Later that Afternoon...Brian's Loft

 

"Daddy?"

 

Brian slowly stroked his son's soft, brown hair, his mind a thousand miles away.  He smiled down at his son, who was currently sitting next to him on the couch, watching one of his favorite videos about Thomas the Train.  "What, Gus?" he asked tenderly as his son peered up into his face. 

 

"You look sad."  Gus reached over and placed one, small hand on his father's cheek.  "Why are you sad, Daddy? Don't you like me being here?"

 

Brian reached up to clasp his son's hand, feeling how small it felt in his.  He was so thankful that this little boy was his son.  "Of course I like having you here, Sonny Boy.  You always make me feel happy." 

 

Gus frowned.  "Then why do you have an upside-down smile?"

 

Brian half-smiled.  "An upside-down smile?"

 

His son nodded.  "Yeah...that's what Mommy calls it when someone is unhappy.  And you've been wearing one all afternoon.  Why?" 

 

Brian sighed. Sometimes, his son was way too perceptive.  "It has nothing to do with you, Buddy," he assured him softly as he reached over to snag a little popcorn from his son's red-and-white, plastic bowl and pop a couple of kernels in his mouth.  It gave him a few seconds to gather his thoughts as he chewed and swallowed it.  How could he properly explain to his son what was going on, when he really couldn't explain it to himself?  Yes, he had more or less told Justin to go about his own business and leave him alone, but he hadn't meant it.  He initially thought that just like when he had left Tennessee several months ago he could leave Justin behind and not look back. But he soon realized he couldn't back then, and he couldn't now.  Yes, he would dearly love to have such a talented artist working for him, but that wasn't the main reason he had told him.  This was personal, not just professional.  How in the hell was he going to convince Justin of what he had heard, however, when the man simply refused to believe him?  He had tried to contact him through texts and phone calls off and on all night and all day, but his cell went right to voicemail, and he was pointedly ignoring any texts he sent him.  Stubborn, pigheaded man...

 

He pulled his son into his lap and slid his arms around his waist, placing his cheek against his little boy's head.  Somehow not facing Gus made it slightly easier to bare his soul to him.  "It doesn't have anything to do with you, Sonny Boy," he assured him softly as he stared over at the expansive windows of his loft directly ahead, the darkness accentuated only by the streetlights below.  "I...I guess your Daddy has just had a long day, that's all."  He didn't really want to burden his son with his problems. But even so, he soon found out he wasn't the only one who had Justin on his mind. 

 

"I miss Justin," he heard Gus say unexpectedly as he pulled back to look his father in the eyes.  "Is he coming back to visit us again soon?  He paints good.  And he's really nice to me."

 

Brian swallowed hard as his grip tightened imperceptibly around his son's waist.  He smiled wistfully.  "Yeah, he is a good ‘painter.'  I miss him, too, Gus."  He paused for a moment.  "I don't know if he'll be back or not," he answered honestly. 

 

As the video ended and the credits began to roll, Gus stared expressively into his father's eyes.  "He'll be back," he told him confidently. 

 

"You think so?" he asked him quietly, desperately needing his son's innocent confidence. 

 

Gus nodded his head vigorously. 

 

"How do you know, Sonny Boy?"  Brian asked him as his son placed his hands against his father's chest.  The ever-present whistle was hanging around Gus's neck, making Brian's heart both ache in reminder, but also feel just a bit hopeful at the same time.

 

"Because Justin's our friend," he told him.  "And friends don't just leave and not come back.  Maybe he had a long day, too, Daddy.  Why don't you call him and see if he can come over and visit now?"  He reached over and retrieved his father's cellphone from its place on the side table and held it out to him.

 

I wish it was that easy, Sonny Boy, Brian thought silently.  There had to be SOME way to get through to that man.  Some way that would convince Justin that he was telling the truth, and he hadn't made up what he had heard.  His eyes widened slightly as a thought suddenly occurred to him.  Yes, that just might work...

 

For the first time that day, Brian Kinney smiled.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

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