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The restaurant was trendy, airy and bright. The rainbow colors were subdued, large tropical plants separated the tables and soft music played in the background.
“Nice place,” Justin said.
“I rather like it,” Brian said, “and Gus loves it, don’t you, sonny-boy?”
Gus nodded happily. “I do. I’m a knight here, you know!”
Justin smiled. “You make a fine knight, Gus.”
A waitress brought menus and glasses of water for the adults, orange juice for the kids. Justin was impressed, even more so when he saw that the menus she had given the children had pictures in them.
“This one,” JR said decisively, pointing at a plate filled with a selection of fruit, muffins, bagels, butter and honey.
Brian laughed. “That’s for ravenous bears. Are you a hungry bear?”
JR nodded. “Hungry!”
“Fine with me. Remember you don’t have to eat it all, if you don’t want to,” Brian said. “What about you, Gus?”
“Knight’s Breakfast,” Gus said.
“And you, Justin?”
“Feel like having the English breakfast for two?”
Justin held his breath as Brian seemed to hesitate, and released it when Brian shrugged. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to drink tea with it.”
“Not to worry, it says you can have it with coffee.”
“Do you mind ordering? I need to go to the bathroom,” Brian got up and vanished.
Justin was a bit surprised that he hadn’t asked the kids whether they needed to go.
“Are we getting new shoes,” JR asked Gus.
Gus nodded eagerly. “Daddy said we get everything new, underwear and socks, and jeans and shoes and T-shirts, and you get new dresses, too. And something to wear to the party on Tuesday!”
JR beamed. “That’s good. Then I can walk!”
Justin grinned. “Can’t you walk now?”
“In sandals,” JR said sadly, “but not in shoes. They hurt!”
“They’re too small for her,” Gus explained.
Just then, the waitress turned up and Justin placed their order. Moments later, Brian was back.
Justin looked at him closely, wondering at the tightness around his eyes. Headache?
“What’s the look for,” Brian asked, “Are you still trying to figure out whether I’ve had work done?”
Justin grinned. “If you didn’t look so hot, people wouldn’t have to wonder. Besides, I know you didn’t.”
“And you know that how?”
Justin shrugged. “That report about the side-effects of Botox freaked you out.”
“There’s always the good old facelift.”
“Right,” Justin laughed. “I can see you trusting some doctor with your face.”
Brian grinned. “True. I might end up looking like Ted. Imagine!”
“I’d rather not, thanks,” Justin grinned. “Is Michael getting a pouch?”
“The good life,” Brian said. “He’s runs the shop, and then he goes home to run the household. And that’s all the running he does! Ben exercises like a fiend, and Mikey sits on his ass, eating burritos, wondering where the excess baggage comes from.”
“Maybe he figures he doesn't need to look good, now that he’s secure.”
“Is he secure? And anyway, what does the one have to do with the other? You exercise for your health, and to feel good.”
“And to look good,” Justin grinned.
Brian shrugged. “There’s that.”
The waitress brought their drinks, and then came back with their food. “Here’s the Hungry Bear for the little princess,” she smiled. “And the Knight’s Breakfast for the young man. The English breakfast for the grown-ups. Enjoy!”
Pretending to be busy with his own food, Justin quickly counted what Brian had put on his plate. One slice of toast, four slices of tomatoes, six mushrooms, a spoonful of baked beans, one fried egg and a slice of bacon. Not exactly much for a grown man. Now to hope that at least he’d eat all that.
The kids were happily digging in, and Justin wondered where JR had learned to like her bagels with butter and honey.
Justin was rather pleased with himself when Brian actually ate all the tomatoes and mushrooms, and most of the beans. He only nibbled at the bacon, though, and left half of the egg. He had the toast, but he only put a small amount of butter on it. Still, it was more than he had eaten the day before, and Justin congratulated himself on a job well done.
The kids finished their food and downed their drinks, then looked up at Brian expectantly. “Are you ready? Can we go shopping now?”
“Let Justin finish his coffee, guys. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
Both kids nodded, and Brian rose. “Come on then.”
The waitress came back to collect their plates. “Wow, those kids can eat! They certainly eat more than Mr. Kinney does!”
Justin grinned. “That’s not exactly difficult, considering he eats like a bird.”
The girl grinned back. “True. And did you know, when he comes here with Mr. Scout, he eats even less than he did today.”
Justin sobered. “It might be a good idea not to let on that you’re watching him.”
She shrugged. “We all know he’s particular. Not to worry.”
Brian returned with the kids, and paid the waitress. From her wide smile, Justin guessed that Brian had also tipped her generously.
They got in the car again, and Brian said, “Remember where Pierre’s is?”
Justin grinned. “Sure do. Your tailor. Peter. The Englishman who wanted to be French.”
“He bought the building and opened his own shop. Kid’s wear and men’s fashions.”
“What about women?”
“Nothing doing. He won’t go near them.”
Justin shook his head. “Odd, isn’t he?”
Brian shrugged. “He does what he wants; I can’t fault him for that.”
“Well, imagine having to deal with Debbie. Or Melanie,” Justin grinned. “He might have a point, actually.”
JR started to bounce in her seat, singing to herself, “I’m getting new shoes to walk in, I’m getting new shoes to walk in…”
Justin was glad that the drive over to Pierre’s was short. That screechy little voice was just what he needed to give him yet another piercing headache. Brian’s pained expression seemed to indicate he felt the same way, which inexplicably made Justin feel better.
“Here we are guys. Ready to raid the store, JR?”
JR bounced up and down once more. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Gus smiled. “She’s so excited, Daddy. She was afraid you’d only take me shopping!”
Brian shook his head. “When have I ever done that, JR? When Gus gets new stuff, so do you, don’t you know that?”
“Mom Mel says you don’t like JR,” Gus confided in a whisper that Justin could hear on the other side of the car.
“I do like you, JR. Lots,” Brian said.
Mom Mel is a cow, Justin thought. It was easy to see that Brian was crazy about both kids. There was no difference in the way he treated them.
“Here, Justin,” Brian held out his American Express card. “Go knock yourself out.”
Justin hesitated. This wasn’t right. He shook his head. “I’d rather you come with me.”
“Why,” Brian said. “You know what you need. You can be done by the time I’ve dealt with the kids.”
“I don’t want to use your credit card without you,” Justin clarified.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You used to.”
Yeah. He had even stolen it once. Still…
“It’s different now. Please, Brian?”
“Whatever,” Brian sighed. “Let’s get the kids out of the way first, then.”
They walked into the shop, and a young man came up to them immediately. “Good morning, Mr. Kinney. Pierre said you’d drop in today. I’m Gordon. Kid’s section is this way, please.”
They followed Gordon to a brightly decorated area filled with all sorts of fairy-tale creatures.
“Let’s start with the little lady, shall we,” Gordon suggested. “The young man can explore that area over there, if he likes.”
Justin grinned. He would have loved to shop in this kind of place as a kid.
Gus looked at the go-cart track longingly. “May I, Daddy?”
“He’ll be quite safe,” Gordon assured. “We have a girl out front watching the door.”
Brian shrugged. “Gus doesn’t run off, do you son?”
“Of course not, Daddy!”
“Off you go, then. Have fun. I’ll come and get you when we’re ready for you.”
“Okay,” Gus skipped off.
Brian went down on one knee and looked at JR. “So, honey. What do you want to shop for first?”
“Shoes,” JR said, sticking out a foot.
Brian grinned. “Shoes it is, Gordon.”
Gordon led them to the appropriate section and helped JR take off her shoes. He measured her feet and shook his head. “Doesn't that hurt? You should’ve told your dad that your shoes are too small,” he said.
JR looked up at Brian, her eyes filling with tears.
Brian’s frown vanished at once, and he gently smoothed her hair. “That’s alright, JR. Now we’ll get you shoes that fit, okay?”
JR smiled and nodded eagerly. She tried on several pairs, and Justin was surprised how much fun it was to shop with kids. JR seemed to like everything, and was quite happy with Brian’s suggestions.
Brian ended up buying her six pairs of shoes, and three pairs of sandals. T-shirts, shorts and jeans were next, and Gordon sighed. “You need to eat more, honey. You’re awfully thin.”
Justin was about to comment, but Brian's expression stopped him. Brian seemed furious, but when JR looked at him, the expression was gone instantly. “We’ll go for an ice-cream after, shall we?”
JR nodded happily. “Love ice-cream!”
“I know,” Brian said, and held out a pink dress with bows and ribbons. “Now, how do you like this dress?”
JR beamed. “Mine,” she announced.
“First, you have to try it on,” Brian smiled. “Let’s see whether I picked the right size.”
The dress was too small, and Brian shook his head. “Maybe you’re not that thin, after all?”
Gordon opened his mouth, but Brian shot him one of those killer-looks that always shut people up. Justin grinned to himself. He was pretty certain that Brian had picked the tiny dress on purpose.
Gordon came back with several dresses in JR’s size, and when she couldn’t decide which one she liked best, Brian bought them all.
“Up!” JR demanded, holding out her arms to Brian.
Brian bent and picked her up. “Now what?”
JR put her arms around his neck and squeezed, pressing a very damp kiss to Brian’s cheek. “Love you. Love you!”
Brian grinned. “And I love you, JR. You're my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!”
JR leaned back and looked into Brian’s eyes, her little face serious. “Really? You promise?”
“I promise,” Brian said without hesitation.
“Down,” JR said. As soon as her feet touched the floor she dashed over to the go-cart tracks. “Gus! Gus!”
Gus scrambled off the cart and ran to her. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”
JR shook her head, and jumped up and down. “I’m dada’s favorite girl!”
“You’re silly,” Gus laughed. “I already knew that.”
He took her hand and led her back to the adults. “Is she done, Daddy?”
Brian shook his head. “We still need a party-dress.”
JR looked at him, eyes wide with surprised delight. “Another dress?”
“Sure,” Brian said. “You’re our princess, and you want to look like a princess for the party, right?”
“Right,” JR smiled. “Wanna be pretty!”
Gordon brought several candy-colored dresses with even more bows and ribbons.
“They’re hideous,” Justin whispered.
“I know,” Brian whispered back. “But not if you’re three and a girl.”
JR immediately decided on a dark-green dress.
“Elle regarde comme si elle s’était baignée dans les épinards,” Brian said.
“What’s that last word,” Justin asked.
“Spinach,” Brian replied.
Justin laughed. Yes, unfortunately Brian was right. JR did look as though she had taken a bath in spinach.
Gordon shot them a quick look. “Maybe you’ll like the dress even better in yellow, JR?”
JR tilted her head. “Maybe. Can I see?”
Gordon helped her into the dress, and JR stood in front of the mirror. “Which one, Dada?”
“I like them both,” Brian said diplomatically.
JR frowned. “Justin?”
“The yellow one,” Justin said. “It brings out your pretty eyes.”
“Yellow, then,” JR decided.
Brian put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. “Merci, Justin.”
Astonished, and certain that it showed, Justin slipped an arm around Brian’s waist and hugged back. “Anytime.”
Their eyes met for a split second, and there was something familiar in that look, something that Justin knew he should be able to place. But the moment was gone before it could register properly, and just then Gus joined them.
“Is JR ready yet, Daddy?”
“Getting impatient, are we,” Brian grinned. “Yes. It's your turn to go play, JR.”
“Where?” JR wanted to know.
Brian went down on one knee again, and pointed. “Over there. See that big teddy-bear? I think they might have some dolls over there that you can borrow.”
JR nodded and scampered off.
“So, Gus. What’s first?”
“Trousers,” Gus decided.
Shopping for Gus was even easier than shopping for JR; he relied entirely on Brian’s taste and bought ‘what daddy likes’.
T-shirts were a little more complicated, because Gus had his own ideas about the pictures on them. They settled on several with cars and planes, and then Gordon brought some with Disney motifs.
“I’m too old for Donald Duck,” Gus announced firmly.
“But you’re too young for dildos,” Brian muttered so that only Justin could hear. Justin grinned.
“I want Rage,” Gus decided. “Batman is stupid.”
“Rage,” Gordon repeated, looking scandalized. “How do you know Rage?”
Gus shrugged. “He looks just like my daddy. Michael has a big poster of him in his comic-shop. He told me Rage is a gay super-hero who fights prejudiced people. I like Rage.”
“Well,” Gordon said. “We have an assortment of pictures we can transfer to T-shirts, but I doubt that Rage is among those. Let me go check.”
“Now, how does a nice guy like Gordon know Rage,” Brian asked.
“Poor Gordon,” Justin smiled. “I have a feeling we’re giving him a headache. What do we have to do to make it worse?”
“Twat,” Brian said, but he was grinning.
Gordon returned. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we haven't got Rage. We do have Superman, though, and the Fantastic Four.”
Gus looked at Brian. “But I want Rage.”
Brian sighed. “Gordon. Those pictures are iron-ons, yes? Basically, you can transfer from any picture, right?”
Gordon nodded.
“Justin. Got your sketch-book?”
“Yes, but the picture will only be black-and-white. Is that okay, Gus?”
Gus nodded happily. “Sure. As long as it’s Rage!”
“And what do you want Rage to do,” Justin asked.
Gus shot Brian a quick look and then gestured for Justin to bend down to him. He whispered eagerly, and Justin laughed. “I can do that. But I want it known that it’s your idea!”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, Sunshine!”
“Gus is getting me into trouble here,” Justin laughed again. “Go and get shoes, it’ll take me a while.”
He returned to the car and went into his kitbag for pencils and the sketch-book. Grinning, he set to work on the motif Gus wanted. He actually rather liked the idea, but he had a feeling Brian might not approve.
It didn't take him long, as soon as he started to sketch, composition and textures came back, as if he had drawn Rage only yesterday. Then again, if Shane was right, he had.
Satisfied with the result, Justin put his utensils back and went back.
“I just finished buying shoes,” Gus declared. “Are you done? Can I see it?”
Gordon craned his neck, and Brian leaned in for a look. Justin quickly held the sketch behind his back. “My client gets the first look.”
Gus grinned and stood behind him. “You have to turn it around. It’s on its head,” he said.
Justin complied.
The boy was silent for a long moment, and both Brian and Gordon looked at his face with very indulgent smiles. Justin half-turned and glanced over his shoulder.
Gus was gazing at the picture with pure bliss. Finally, Gus looked up and met his eyes, smiling brightly. “That’s just right, you know. Just the way I wanted it. But it’s too nice for a T-shirt. Can I frame it?”
Justin grinned, glad he had understood the kid’s wishes correctly. “You can do both. They don’t damage the picture when they transfer it, you know.”
Gus beamed. “That’s so cool! Can I put it in the living room, Daddy?”
Brian inclined his head. “Can I look at it first?”
“No,” Gus said. “Please?”
Brian looked at Justin, searching his face. “Yes or no?”
“I’m not sure,” Justin said.
“Thank you so very much. That’s helpful.”
Justin thought, mindful of Gordon’s nosy presence. “It might take some explaining.”
“Do I have an explanation?”
“You're putting me on the spot,” Justin protested.
Brian looked at Gus. “How about we hang it in your room?”
Gus frowned. “No. But we can put it in the studio.”
“That’s settled, then,” Brian said. “Now, can I see it?”
Smiling, Justin handed over the sketch. He knew it was good.
Brian looked at the picture, his face unreadable.
After a long moment, he handed it over to Gordon. “Get a T-shirt printed with this. Be careful, you heard my boy wants it framed.”
“Certainly, sir,” Gordon nodded and vanished.
“Do you like it,” Gus asked.
“It's an excellent drawing,” Brian replied.
Gus frowned, and stood in front of Brian with his hands on his hips. “I know what that means, Daddy. You say things like that at the office, when you like the work, but not what’s in it.”
Brian sighed. “It’s your T-shirt.”
“And now you don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Gus stamped his foot.
“That’s right, Gus. So, please drop it?”
Gus pouted. “We can still put it in the studio, right?”
“I said you could,” Brian said.
Justin frowned. “Brian.”
Brian gave him what Justin thought of as ‘that look’. “I said, drop it.”
Justin sighed. Damn. Had it always been this easy to put a foot wrong? How often had he gone wrong, without ever even noticing?
While Gordon was gone, Brian picked up a selection of socks and underwear for both kids and added it to the already large pile sitting on a counter.
Gus tugged at his trousers. “Are you mad at Justin?”
Brian glanced down at the kid. “What makes you think I am?”
Ouch. That probably meant that Brian was actually mad at him. What now? He could hardly offer to rip up the sketch; and anyway, that would probably make it worse. Fuck.
“I wanted a picture like that.”
“So I heard.”
Gus sighed impatiently. “You’re being difficult, Daddy.”
Brian bent and looked into the boy’s eyes. “It’s an adult thing. You’ll have to wait a while before you can understand.”
“How long do I have to wait?”
Brian shrugged. “I’m only just beginning to get it. Maybe you’ll be smarter than I am. You might get it sooner.”
“I don't want you to be angry at Justin. Justin is nice. You’re nice with Justin.”
Brian bit his lip, and Justin found himself wishing the boy was less perceptive, or at least, less outspoken.
“Look, Gus. I don't have reason to be angry with Justin. I just am. The less we talk about it, the sooner I’ll get over it. Okay?”
“Okay,” Gus shrugged, but then rolled his eyes at Justin behind Brian's back.
Justin winked at him, trying not to laugh. Had Brian been this precocious as a boy?
Gordon came back, holding the T-shirt for Gus to see. “Now, how’s that, young man?”
Gus tilted his head and looked at the T-shirt critically. “I’ll have to wear it over my trousers, or it’ll spoil the image. Can I have one like that in light-blue as well, Daddy? But the picture needs to go a little higher up.”
“Sure,” Brian said. “Any other colors?”
Gus shook his head. “Just the blue, Daddy. Thank you!”
Gordon handed Gus the sketch. “Here, I’ll go get a light-blue one printed. With the picture higher up, as requested.” He winked.
“Don’t you need the picture anymore?”
“No,” Gordon said. “We can run lots of copies from the transfer.”
“Which reminds me,” Brian said. “I want the transfer. No other prints; the work is copyrighted to Mr. Taylor.”
“Yes, sir,” Gordon said smoothly, and left.
Too smoothly, Justin felt.
Brian frowned. “What makes me think he was going to run off a hundred copies or so?”
“I don’t know,” Justin grinned. “But I think you’re thinking the right thing.”
Gus beamed at Brian. “If we have the transfer, I can have more T-shirts done later, can’t I?”
“Theoretically, yes,” Brian said.
Gus grinned. “That’s good. I can still have the same T-shirt when I’m as tall as you.”
“Terrific,” Brian muttered. “Let’s hope your taste improves by the time you’re that tall.”
“You said it is a good picture,” Gus frowned.
“It is,” Brian said. “But do you really want to run around with a comic-hero on your chest when you’re grown-up?”
“Michael does,” Gus shrugged.
“Unfortunately,” Brian said. “Do yourself a favor and find a better role-model.”
Gordon returned with the blue T-shirt and the transfer, and handed both to Brian.
“You still have a play area in the basement, don’t you?” Brian asked, passing the transfer to Justin, who put it in with his sketch-book.
“Yes,” Gordon said. “Maureen is on duty today.”
Brian nodded. “We’ll take the kids downstairs, then. Add all the stuff to my account; we’ll pick it up when we leave.”
“Certainly, Mr. Kinney.”
“What’s down here,” JR asked as they rode the elevator down.
“A place for you to play, while I go shopping,” Brian said.
“You’ll remember to pick us up, won’t you,” Gus said worriedly.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “We’ll remember.”
Gus shrugged. “Mom forgot us in the mall the other day.”
“Did she? I won’t forget, I promise.”
A pretty and cheerful-looking red-head with beautiful green eyes was waiting for them at the entrance of a large playground filled with slides, swings and see-saws. Justin saw that there was also a corner with teddy-bears and dolls, toy-cars and coloring books. Light came in through light wells, so that everything looked bright and vibrant.
“Hello, Mr. Kinney, I’m Maureen,” she said and looked at the kids. “Now, which one is Gus, and which one JR… let me see… I think this here is Gus.” She winked at Gus and held out her hand to JR.
JR giggled. “No. I’m JR. I’m a girl.”
“Gee, so you are. My, I’m silly. Then you must be Gus.”
Gus solemnly shook her hand. “That’s right, I am.”
“Nice to meet you guys, so what do you want to play?”
“JR likes dolls,” Gus said. “And I like slides.”
“Well, go and play,” Brian said. “Have fun. We’ll be about two hours, Maureen, maybe a bit longer.”
“I’ll be here,” Maureen grinned. “And I’ll make sure that so are your kids.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Brian said. “I’m rather attached to them.”
Maureen laughed. “Yes, I can see that. Not to worry, they’ll be fine.”
They got back into the elevator, and Justin waited for the doors to close before he spoke. “Brian. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“Drop it, Justin,” Brian said sharply. “Sorry is bullshit, and it’s even more bullshit when you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”
Justin sighed. “You're right. I had a feeling you’d not be too keen on the motif, but I don’t know why you're that pissed at me. It’s just a drawing, after all. You can always take it back down when Gus is gone.”
“It’s not about the fucking drawing, Justin. I told you, you don't get it. I also told you, repeatedly, to drop it. Now, talk about the weather or something.”
Justin sighed again. “Why don’t we just pick up the kids and go home.”
With an angry motion, Brian hit the emergency switch and stopped the elevator. “Drop it. Which one of the two words don’t you understand?”
Justin raised his hands. “Okay. Okay. I just thought you wanted to go home.”
Brian closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Has it ever, ever occurred to you that I’m doing exactly what I want to do? If I wanted to go home, I would have said so. Right now, I want to get you out of those ridiculous clothes and into something that looks good on you. Then, I want you to go get a haircut that’ll make you seem like an adult. After that, we’ll take the kids for some ice-cream. Then, maybe, I’ll be ready to go home. Now, did you get that, Mr. Taylor?”
Justin leaned against the cool metal of the wall, and looked at Brian. Shit, he looked exhausted. Suddenly, he remembered that it was never work or play that drained Brian. It was other people. Now, it seemed he had become one of those people.
“I don’t remember it ever being this difficult, Brian.”
Brian shrugged. “It wasn’t.”
Sighing, Justin nodded. “What do I do about it?”
“You figure it out,” Brian said, sounding exasperated. “Why do you keep asking me?”
“Because I can’t comprehend what I’m doing wrong, and you are the only one who can tell me.”
Brian studied him for a long moment, and Justin was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the close scrutiny. “What makes you think I can tell you? If you don’t know, it’s because you aren’t in a position to get it.”
“You said to Gus he’d have to grow up before he can understand why you’re mad at me. Are you saying I have to grow up?” Justin frowned.
“Touchy, much?” Brian said sardonically. “I didn't say Gus needed to grow up. I said he needed to grow older. You learn from experience.”
Justin felt like stamping his foot, instantly realizing that the impulse put him at the same emotional age as Gus. Great. “Learn what, Brian?”
Brian drew a deep breath. “Christ, I hate people.”
With an effort, Justin stayed silent.
“You’re taxing my patience, Justin. Really. Taxing,” Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want you to drop it, you keep badgering me. I tell you I can’t explain, you keep asking. What does it take to get through to you, a sledgehammer?”
“I need to understand.”
“This isn’t about what you need. It’s about hearing me.”
“I hear you,” Justin said wearily. “I don't understand you.”
“So what else is new,” Brian said bitterly.
The words were like a physical blow, yet, somehow, even more painful. Justin fought for breath.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t mean to.”
Justin sighed. “I know that, actually.”
They were silent for long moments, and Justin shied away from his own thoughts, wondering instead what Brian might be thinking. Had he ever known what Brian was thinking?
“Brian. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Get clothes. Get a haircut,” Brian said, through clenched teeth.
“Fine,” Justin groaned. “Let’s. I won't say another word.”
“We'll see,” Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “I seem to remember you have an unerring capacity for putting your foot in your mouth.”
“That’s one thing I’m capable of,” Justin agreed, appreciating Brian’s attempt to lighten the mood.
Brian reached out, and Justin went into his arms all too willingly. He slipped his arms around Brian’s waist, holding tight.
How odd, that it was still possible to be this close, to derive so much comfort from each other’s presence. Brian's warmth, his scent, his strength – so familiar, so exciting. No longer his. Right now, Justin felt the loss keenly.
Finally, Brian pulled back. “Ready to go shopping?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Justin muttered, giving one last squeeze before letting go.
Brian put the elevator back in motion, and they rode up in silence.
“Ah, Brian, mon cher ami,” Pierre positively purred as he pulled Brian into a hug. If he had noticed that the elevator had been halted for quite some time, he didn't let on.
Justin tried not to grin. Pierre had been Brian's tailor for more than ten years, and he knew they were fond of one another. He still didn’t know whether they’d ever fucked, but he thought it unlikely. Pierre was too much of a fairy for Brian.
Brian returned the embrace and smiled. “Long time no see, mon précieux Pierre.”
Pierre laughed. “So true. Let me go check whether that jacket is ready. I believe it is.”
“Later,” Brian said. “First, we have to deal with a fashion disaster. You remember Justin Taylor?”
“I most certainly do,” Pierre beamed at Justin. “Our young artist. How was New York?”
“Okay, I guess, “Justin said.
Pierre looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I sense a marked lack of enthusiasm, non?”
“Oui,” Brian grinned.
Pierre nodded. “Bon. What do we need?”
Brian shrugged. “Everything.”
“Yes,” Pierre muttered, looking at Justin critically. “That haircut. You need to do something about that. Back into hoodies, I see. And those jeans! Did they ever fit properly? That T-shirt needs to go into the trash. Non, non, this will never do. This requires work. Where to start?”
“Start with slacks,” Brian suggested. “We’ll go from there.”
“Slacks it is. Has your size changed, my dear boy?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Justin said.
Pierre shook his head. “You look thinner to me. Try these on and we’ll see.”
Justin vanished into a changing-booth and quickly slipped into the gray trousers Pierre had handed him. They were a bit loose, but a belt would take care of that. He could hear Brian and Pierre talk in an undertone, and he hated the idea that they were discussing him.
“That was quick,” Pierre beamed. “Let’s look at these. Yes, yes, very good. A size smaller then. Très bien.”
Apparently, Brian had already picked out other colors, because Pierre handed him another four pairs of trousers. Justin liked the white, blue and grass-colored ones, but he frowned at the brown pants. “Why brown?”
“To go with the jacket you’re going to buy,” Brian grinned.
“I’m not buying a brown jacket,” Justin protested.
“Of course you're not,” Brian and Pierre said in unison, and laughed.
Sighing, Justin went back into the booth to try on the other pants.
“Keep the whites till last,” Brian said from behind the curtain. “They’ll go with any shirt.”
Justin bit his lip. There was a time when Brian would have come into the booth, and there would have been laughter and kisses and warm hands on his skin. Shopping had been a lot more fun then.
By the time Justin was ready to try on the white trousers, Brian had selected several shirts and was looking at ties.
“I don’t need a tie,” Justin said.
Brian sighed. “Never buy a shirt without a matching tie or two. Haven’t I taught you anything?”
Pierre shook his head. “You’ve forgotten it all, have you, Justin?”
“I wish I could,” Justin heard Brian mutter.
Hadn’t he heard him say something like that before? When? He shot him a quick look, but Brian had his back to him.
Justin shrugged into the first shirt, a light blue that looked just right on him. Brian had always had a knack for choosing colors for him, and had joked that as an artist, Justin ought to be able to do it himself.
Brian came up with a tie in a slightly darker blue, and knotted it for him. “There. Perfect. Pierre, what about jackets?”
Pierre came up with an assortment of blazers in dark blue, maroon and hunter-green.
“What got into you, Pierre?” Brian protested. “Those colors will make him look like a school-boy.”
Pierre shrugged. “I thought you’d like that, non?”
“Mais non,” Brian said with a touch of asperity. “I don’t like. Justin needs cool colors, mint, light-blue, that sort of thing.”
“The maroon looks quite nice, actually,” Justin said.
“Yeah. Want a school-tie, too?”
Justin shrugged. “Huh. Better than brown.”
“Who said anything about brown? You can combine the brown slacks with a white jacket, or a blue one. Black will go. Even green, if you’re careful about the shirt.”
“You have it all planned out, don't you?”
“I do. That's what you do when you put your wardrobe together.”
“I don’t really need all this stuff, Brian.”
“Justin,” Brian drew him close and continued in a low voice. “You lived with Snoop Debbie Deb. She told me that ‘Sunshine owns exactly two pairs of jeans, one pair of sneakers and a handful of T-shirts’. That might be enough when you’re seventeen, but it’s not enough now. So, shut up about it, will you?”
Justin felt himself blush. He should have remembered that Debbie didn't consider other people’s private stuff private.
Brian’s arms circled his waist, and Justin leaned into the loose embrace. “I’ve always liked spoiling you,” Brian murmured. “And getting you new clothes is fun.”
Justin rested his head on Brian’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”
Pierre returned with another handful of blazers. “Let's try these, shall we?”
“Much better,” Brian said, satisfied. “Here, try the white one first.”
“C’est bon,” Pierre said.
“C’est très bon,” Brian grinned. “You look hot, Justin.”
Justin had to agree, the white slacks and jacket looked just right with the blue shirt and tie.
“You need a belt, though,” Brian said. “Try the green shirt, and I’ll go find one.”
Justin got into the green shirt, and put the white blazer back on. That looked pretty good, too, but he liked the blue better.
“The wrong color green,” Brian decided when he came back. “Go for mint, that kind of green makes you look too pale. Here, try the belt.”
Justin shook his head. “No way.”
“Way,” Brian insisted, pulling the belt through the loops for him.
Justin sighed. He’d never buy something that elaborate. The belt shimmered in a metallic white, braided with silver, and the silver buckle was a serpent with tiny ruby eyes. When fastened, it looked like the snake bit its own tail. It added something to the trousers, though.
“It’ll go with all your pants,” Brian said. “Even jeans. Which reminds me, Pierre, we need two or three pairs of jeans, as well. Make that four. No, five. Some T-shirts. And something a bit more dashing for the disco.”
“Coming right up,” Pierre beamed. “That reminds me of the first time you brought Justin here.”
“He’s back to being a regular,” Brian said.
“Fabulous,” Pierre grinned. “New York played havoc with his fashion sense.”
“What sense?” Brian shot back. “He never had any.”
“Sadly, that’s true.” Pierre winked at Justin. “But what’s one little deficit between friends.”
Justin laughed. “Thanks a lot, Pierre.”
“Well,” Pierre shrugged and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. “What do you expect, waltzing into my place wearing one of those dreadful hoodies.”
“Brian hates them, too.”
“With good reason,” Pierre said. “They make you look like you were a hunchback.”
“They’re comfortable,” Justin shrugged.
Pierre and Brian exchanged an exasperated look, and Pierre shook his head. “It’s a good job he’s back under your wing. At this rate, he’d wear T-shirts with logos on them.”
“Or super-heroes,” Brian said.
Okay. Now Brian was making comments about age? Or was that just a joke, with no ulterior meaning? It was difficult to tell, Brian had the best poker-face Justin had ever seen.
“Non, non, that will not do,” Pierre objected. “That’s too ghastly to contemplate.”
Brian grinned. “Keep at him, Pierre. We’ll enforce some fashion sense yet.”
“Guys. I’m not that bad,” Justin protested.
“You’re bad,” Brian said. “Very bad.”
“Hoodies,” Pierre said meaningfully. “Brian is right, you are bad. But we will change that, non?”
“I’m sure you will,” Justin muttered resignedly.
Justin ended up with a dozen trousers with matching shirts and ties, six jackets, four sweaters and some twenty T-shirts in assorted colors. Brian had found another two belts, one was a simple black one that Justin decided was probably going to be his favorite, the other was bronze with a heavy bronze buckle. It made his waist look impossibly slim, but it also invariably directed the gaze at his crotch. Justin knew that Brian was perfectly comfortable with such details, but he wasn’t sure he was. Brian also insisted he buy several new pairs of shoes, and not just sneakers, either.
Justin decided he wanted to wear the new jeans with a tank-top and white dress-shirt straight away, and stood in front of the mirror, admiring himself.
“Much better,” Brian muttered, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Admit it, you do like looking good.”
“I do,” Justin said. “I just couldn’t be bothered recently.”
Brian frowned and shook his head. “You’ve got to bother, for yourself. Now, can I risk you getting your own underwear, or are you going to go for boxers and tennis-socks?”
Justin grinned at Brian's reflection. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Off you go, and no looking at prices.”
Justin shook his head, and set off to buy what he needed.
When he returned, Brian was standing in front of the mirror, sipping a Latte. Good, Justin thought, remembering that Judson had told him to make sure Brian got enough to drink.
Then the clothes registered, and Justin stood still, staring.
Brian was wearing a smooth leather-jacket over his white T-shirt, trousers and boots to match. The boots had quite a heel, and Brian didn’t really need the height. It looked terrific, though. Justin knew that he’d never have the guts to wear this kind of thing.
The trousers were body-hugging, like most of Brian’s pants. The jacket ended at his waist, the sleeves had three tiny sparkling silver buttons and were snug around his wrists, and the stand-up collar was just right for Brian. Breathtaking. And that color… lilac was impossibly hot on Brian.
Pierre was fiddling with the zipper of the jacket, and adjusting something at Brian’s waist.
“Wow,” Justin said, stepping up next to Brian. “Hot. Hotter than hot.”
“Thanks,” Brian smiled, gesturing with the cup. “Try that jacket.”
Justin picked up the leather jacket Brian had indicated, and immediately knew it had to cost a bomb. The leather was incredibly supple and soft, the color a beautiful midnight-blue. He wanted this bomber-style jacket, badly. And yet, he hesitated.
“Justin.”
He knew that tone, somewhere between patience and irritation. Still…
Brian wasn’t his boyfriend anymore. What were they, anyway? Friends? Had they ever been friends? Was there even a basis for friendship? Would you let a friend buy you things? He wasn’t comfortable accepting all these clothes to start off with, and that jacket probably cost half as much again.
“Non, it will not work. I’ll have to get this changed,” Pierre decided, and Brian shrugged out of his jacket. “I won’t be long, Brian.”
“Look at me.” Brian put the empty cup on the counter and put his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “Will you look at me? What’s wrong?”
Justin managed to meet his eyes, just. “I’m not sure about all this stuff,” he gestured helplessly. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” Justin shrugged. “It just doesn't.”
“Look, Justin. I said I want you to figure out what you want from life. I want you to be able to go anywhere, and do anything. You need the right kind of clothes for that. You’re not twenty anymore, you can’t turn up for a job interview in chinos and a college jacket. Regard it as an investment in your future.”
“One decent pair of trousers and a good shirt would do.”
“Clothes are part of the image. Not just the image other people have of you, but also the image you have of yourself. If you can’t be fucking bothered with yourself, why should others bother with you? Now, stop making a scene. Try the jacket.”
“You’re very convincing,” Justin sighed, and got into the jacket. It felt wonderful, smooth and cool and snug, like the proverbial second skin.
“What do you expect, I’m an ad-man,” Brian grinned. “That jacket was made for you.”
“Indeed,” Pierre said, handing Brian his. “Merveilleux.”
“Have a look,” Brian pulled him in front of the mirror.
Oh yes. It definitely looked as though the jacket was made for him. It fit perfectly, and Justin knew that now there was no way he could say no. Not that he really wanted to.
“You always look striking together,” Pierre said softly, and Justin took another look. Pierre was right.
“We’ll take it. I guess that’s everything, then,” Brian said. “We’ll take the disco outfit, the white ensemble and two pairs of the jeans with us. And these,” he quickly picked up a few of the T-shirts and some underwear. “Send the rest to the apartment a week Tuesday, Pierre, s’il vous plait.”
“I can add it to your account,” Pierre said when Brian handed him one of his credit cards.
Brian shook his head. “No, I’ll pay for this lot straight away.”
“As you wish,” Pierre shrugged, quickly added up their purchases and carefully put the items Brian had selected into bags. He gave Justin the bags and handed the sales slip and credit card back to Brian when he had changed back into his jeans. “A week Tuesday, in the afternoon, oui?”
“Très bien,” Brian said. “Merci beaucoup, Pierre.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Pierre beamed. “It was nice seeing you together again, and it will be nicer still when Justin has had a new haircut.”
Justin rolled his eyes, and Brian snorted. “I have to agree. Au revoir, Pierre.”
“I’ll have the clothes for the kids taken to the car for you. Au revoir, boys!”
Brian pulled him into the elevator, grinning. “Hey hey, ho ho, long hair has got to go.”
Justin laughed. “Have it your way. I can always go back to the Pink Posse cut.”
“A little too short,” Brian said. “Your mother would have a fit.”
“You liked it,” Justin shrugged.
As soon as the doors opened, both kids were there.
“Daddy! You took a long time,” Gus complained.
Brian checked his watch. “Actually, we were faster than I thought, Gus. Didn’t you enjoy playing with Maureen?”
“We did,” Gus said. “She’s fun.”
“We played on the see-saw together,” JR said. “I went up so high!”
“They’re great kids. Only they were a little worried you might forget them here. I told them we have your phone-number, but I don’t think that helped.” Maureen smiled. “JR is very eager to show off her new finery to her mom, and Gus just wanted his dad back.”
“Here’s a little thank-you for looking after my kids, Maureen,” Brian handed her a green silk scarf he had picked out earlier.
“Oh, that’s beautiful!” Maureen beamed. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kinney!”
“You’re welcome,” Brian smiled. “Come on, you lot, we’re off to the next stop. Bye Maureen!”
