Brian was in a bad mood and that was an understandment. Last night he had lost his ID. Not a good thing considering he was on a business trip in Washington. Ryder had ordered him to come here to lure a company that builds beds, over to Ryder Advertising.

He yanked a door open to a bar he had been to last night. Maybe one of the bartenders had gotten hands on his ID. The place was only slightly dimly light since it was only two o’clock in the afternoon. There were only a handful of people. All seemed to be alone, enjoying their own company. Some were eating and some were wasting their life day drinking.

“Hi,” Brian walked to the bar. “I seem to have lost my ID last night. I was thinking maybe someone here might have seen it.”

The bartender put a wine glass upside down up to it’s holder, above the bar table and dropped the kitchen towel on the counter. “I didn’t work last night but Bobby did. He’s in the back. I could go ask him,” she offered.

Brian bit his lower lip and nodded. “That would be great, thank you.”

She walked away and Brian leaned against the bar, glancing around. His eyes found this beautiful creature at the end of the bar. He was blond, he was young and he had shots in front of him in a neat line. The man lifted one small glass of brown liquid up to his eyelevel and stared at it. Then he placed it against his bottom lip and tilted his head back. The glass ended up upside down on top of two other shot glasses that were upside down on the bar.

“Are you Brian Kinney?” Brian suddenly heard and looked away from the blond.

“Yeah, I am,” Brian nodded.

“You’re in luck,” the bartender smiled and handed over a small ID card.

Brian sighed in relief as he saw the familiar card. “Thank you so much,” he said and pulled out a couple of bills from his pocket. “Make sure Bob gets my thank you,” he pushed the bills across the bar.

“Will do,” she nodded.

Brian looked at the man who was still sitting at the end of the bar and made his way to him. He sat on the stool next to him, leaning against the bar.

“I can only wonder what a man like you is doing here this time of the day,” Brian started.

The man turned his head and Brian saw the sky blue eyes, so clear and devastated. “Would you mind, I’m trying to get drunk,” he was clearly not happy that Brian had interrupted him.

“Alone? Isn’t that kind of pathetic?” Brian asked.

“If you want to get into my pants, fuck off. I ain’t interested,” the man turned his head back to the shots and took the next victim into his hand.

“It just got me wondering what happened to get a man like you wanting to get drunk this time of the day,” Brian wondered out loud.

The man was quiet for a second and stared at his drink. “They’re deporting me.”

“To where? Saudi Arabia?” Brian tried to throw some light humor into the conversation.

“Canada. I fucking hate Canada,” the man drank the shot.

“Why?” Brian asked.

“They won’t renew my visa. According to them I don’t have a good reason to stay here because I’m an artist and I only paint pretty pictures. They say I can paint in Canada as well as here but they don’t know jack shit,” he placed the empty glass next to the three empty glasses.

“They don’t understand that it suppresses your inspiration when you’re forced to stay somewhere you don’t want to be,” Brian knew exactly what the problem was. He had to come up with ideas to ads all the time. No way in hell was he going to come up with a good punch line if he was forced to go back to his childhood home.

The man turned his head back to Brian and looked at him. He had something in his eyes that Brian could not read. “Right,” he said slowly.

“They said the only option if I wanted to stay in the States was to marry,” the man explained and Brian could see the look in the blue eyes turn into glazed.

“That’s too bad,” Brian rolled his lips into his mouth. He knew this man was way too pissed to be interested in him. So he was really wasting his time.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well, try not to drink too much. It ain’t worth it,” Brian said as he pushed off the bar and stood up. He turned around and walked out the bar.

*

A day later Brian got out of his rental car and straightened his suit jacket from wrinkles. It was a little over seven in the evening and he had promised to meet Ms. McLachlan, his potential new client, at this local art gallery. Apparently they had this new hot shot artist that everyone wanted to see. The place was packed so Ms. McLachlan was not wrong.

Brian saw her standing at the steps of the building as promised. “Good evening,” he smiled.

“Brian,” she said glad. “Ready to go inside?”

Brian nodded and motioned for her to go inside first. “So who is this artist?” he asked as they got inside.

“Justin Taylor. He’s really good. I’ve been eyeing him for some time now. He’s young but absolutely genius. I’m looking forward to buying one of his paintings this evening,” Ms. McLachlan explained.

“Really, that’s interesting,” Brian commented and took two champagne glasses from a waitress that walked by them. He gave one to his companion.

“Yes, I would appreciate your opinion. I imagine you probably know something about art,” she assumed and sipped her drink.

“I do know something. Perks of working in this field,” Brian smiled a little as they arrived at the first painting.

The painting took Brian’s breath away and he just had to stop and stare. There was a nude person, nothing else really. But the emotions that radiated from this painting were just too real. There was sadness, there was desperation, some loss and a hint of rage. “Wow,” Brian said quietly.

Ms. McLachlan smiled at his side. “Told you so,” she seemed smug.

They moved to the next painting and Brian decided he had to meet the artist. “Do you think this Justin Taylor is here?” Brian asked.

“Yes he is,” Brian heard an answer but that was not Ms. McLachlan’s voice. It was a male voice and for some reason it sounded slightly familiar. Brian turned 180 degrees and found himself face to face with the blond beauty from the bar he had had the pleasure meeting the yesterday.

“You,” Brian simply said.

“Sorry you had to see me in that condition yesterday,” Justin said and extended his hand. “Let’s try this again. I’m Justin Taylor, the artist.”

“Brian Kinney and don’t worry about it,” Brian took the hand. “This is Ms. McLachlan, a big fan of yours,” he made sure not to forget the woman.

Justin shook her hand as well and told it was a pleasure to meet such a big fan. He offered to give them a tour and told detailed stories about every painting in the show. Brian listened to every word and could only wonder why on earth someone would want to kick this man out of this country. This was where he belonged. Here was where he was meant to be if the outcome was this on the walls. The passion this man had for art was impeccable.

They stayed for a couple of hours and when it was time to leave, Brian walked Ms. McLachlan back to her car before making his way back inside. An idea had popped into his mind during the show and he had pondered it over the whole evening. The idea was absolutely crazy. But hell, he lived only once.

He found Justin talking to his manager but interrupted anyway. “Hi,” Brian cleared his throat. “Can I talk to you?”

Justin looked up at him and the manager scurried off right away.

“Can you come outside?” the room was packed full even if the show did show signs of ending.

“Okay,” Justin nodded and Brian beckoned Justin to follow him with his finger.

They found a place where there wasn’t really anyone close enough to hear them. Brian rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the smaller man.

“Something you need to say?” Justin looked at the man in front of him, slightly suspicious about his intentions.

“Where do I start,” Brian mumbled and took a couple of steps back and forth before stopping again. “This is going to sound really crazy,” he started.

“Okay,” Justin nodded, not really knowing what else to say.

“Marry me,” Brian blurted out.

Silence landed around them in the dark. Brian stared at Justin waiting him to react and Justin looked at Brian not believing what he was hearing.

“Excuse me?” Justin asked maybe a little offended.

“I mean, it would be strictly business. You would get to stay here and continue painting. Get your millions you deserve,” Brian explained.

“No, Brian, just no,” Justin shook his head thinking it was clearly out of the question.

“Why not?” the hazel eyes looked at the blond.

“I’m not going to rob someone their future. I’m not that selfish,” the blond shook his head, huffing a laugh because to him, it was obvious.

“You wouldn’t be robbing my future. I’m a person who loathes relationships. I will never, ever want into one. You need marriage to stay in the country. I think it’s important you stay here. You’re young, you have your future ahead of you and if you get kicked back to Canada, that might not be the case. Who knows where you end up,” the words just came out of Brian without even thinking. “United States of America will lose one hell of an artist if they force you to leave.”

“I don’t get it. We don’t know each other,” Justin pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. After the wedding we would go our separate ways, maybe send Christmas cards once a year to know the other is still alive,” Brian shrugged.

“You’re unbelievable,” Justin shook his head but smiled a little.

“It’s true. I am,” Brian smiled back.

“Just answer one question,” Justin said.

Brian nodded and waited.

“Why?” came the simple question.

“I haven’t been the best person in my life. I could have done a lot of things better. Look at this like my good deed to the world, especially to you,” the brunet said his simple answer.

Then they stared at each other for a moment before Justin whispered. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Brian echoed not sure he heard right.

“Let’s do it,” Justin smiled.

Brian smiled back. “Say it.”

“Yes,” Justin chuckled a little.

Brian chuckled a little himself but then just to tease the man he had to say. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

*

It took a week to arrange everything while Brian stayed in Washington. They signed a prenup, booked a little chapel and Brian bought them rings. Justin tried to say no, that he could buy his own ring but the brunet insisted that it was a wedding gift to his husband-to-be. Otherwise Justin worked on his art, occasionally they ate together and tried to get to know each other as well as they were able to in a week.

It was a Saturday when Brian stepped into the chapel with Justin, dressed in the suits they both had worn to Justin’s art opening.

“You still sure about this?” Justin asked looking up at Brian because the man was so tall.

Brian nodded. “Absolutely.”

The ceremony was short. They only had two witnesses, the priest’s wife and a man who cleaned the chapel. Brian absolutely loved how the whole situation lacked romance. This was the right kind of wedding for him. The priest asked if Brian would take Justin to be his lawfully wedded husband. Brian answered “sure” which made Justin giggle and when it was Justin’s time he nodded and said “yep.”

And that was the first time Brian Kinney kissed Justin Taylor… No, make that Justin Kinney.

*

Brian’s flight left early Sunday morning. He had returned his rental car the day before so Justin had offered to give him a ride to the airport.

A woman’s voice said it was last call for Brian’s flight and the brunet looked down at his husband. “You know, I do read art magazines so I better hear about you, blondie,” he smiled.

“You will, I promise that,” Justin smiled widely.

Brian nodded and wrapped his left arm around the shorter man, pulling him against himself.

“You behave yourself,” Justin rubbed Brian’s back and felt the man nod against his head. “And stop by if you ever decide to come back.”

“Of course,” Brian let go of the blond. “I better go or they’re going to leave without me.”

Justin took a step back, pushing his hands into his black jean’s pockets. He nodded. “Thank you for everything again.”

“No problem,” Brian winked his eye and walked through security.

Then Brian boarded the plane. He sat on his window seat and looked down at his ring finger. The new golden ring was still shining around it. He pulled it off and slipped it into his pocket, not knowing that the next time he would hear from his husband, the blond would want a divorce.