Blond Enigma – 2– Notes: Plot Bunny courtesy of Misty – who knows I can’t resist no matter how hard I try. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Brian strolled into the diner early for breakfast the next morning. He knew it would be too early for the gang and he was looking forward to having a leisurely and peaceful hour before the reality of the day set in. He still wasn’t sure what yesterday was all about, but there was no doubt in his mind that Justin had changed. He almost walked past without noticing who was sitting at the counter. It was Justin engrossed in the morning paper, a cup of coffee nearby. He stood back and looked at the man sitting there, elegant in a lightweight suit of dove grey, a grey cotton shirt and tie that appeared to be a tie-dyed silk in shades of mauves. He could see the flash of gold from the stud in Justin’s ear and his right wrist was once again encased in a thick gold linked bracelet. Fuck he looked hot. Brian came up behind him and whispered in his ear. “Why’d you run away last night?” “Brian, I don’t usually see you here this early.” Justin said as he turned to face the older man. “I hadn’t planned on being home all day. If you recall it was you and Gus who dropped by unannounced. Oddly enough, I have a life.” He turned back to his coffee. “We could have fucked.” “No, been there done that, bought the fucking tee shirt Brian. If I recall, you stated that you don’t do tricks twice, in fact you don’t even bother with names.” He looked Brian in the eye. “I’m not that old I don’t remember you fucking me Bri, I wouldn’t want you to break another rule and do me twice. It would be too hard on my heart.” He turned back to his newspaper and his coffee. Brian sat down on the stool next to him. “That was a long time ago Justin. I didn’t know --- “Know what Brian? What an asshole you were? Well I think you did know. I think you cultivated the image. So live with it.” Justin stood up, threw a few bills on the counter and left Brian sitting there staring after him. “Susan, hold my calls.” Justin sat back in his office chair. He needed a few minutes to regain his composure. He hadn’t meant to snap at Brian. But in a way he was glad he did. Brian Kinney was definitely the man for him, but he wasn’t going to be the one doing the chasing this time. It was time Kinney learned who the real King of Liberty Avenue was. He pulled the phone forward and dialed a number he had written in his day timer. “Councilman Deekins, glad I caught you in. About the question and answer at the GLC tomorrow that Jim Stockwell is holding. I have a couple of ideas to run by you. Can we meet for lunch, perhaps at Maxwell’s downtown? Sure I’m buying.” Justin laughed and hung up. He thought for a few moments and then decided to enlist Melanie and Lindsay’s aid in the next part of his plan. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Brian stalked down to the art department on the warpath. The campaign posters for Jim Stockwell were supposed to be finished. He had a lunch meeting with the man in half an hour. He was about to rip into the kid working on the last of the poster when he noticed his rugged good looks. “You must be new here?” he asked. “I’m Brian Kinney.” He held out his hand. The young man wiped his hand on his pants and shook Brian’s hand. “I - - I know, I’m Matt, I’m the new intern.” “Nice to have you with us Matt, now let’s see if you can’t get these posters done in the next twenty minutes. I’m meeting the client and want to take them with me.” “Sure Mr. Kinney, they’re almost done.” Brian smiled at him and walked back to his office. “Fuck I wish I he wasn’t working here, but I don’t need another Kip incident.” He thought to himself. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Justin laughed at what Councilman Deekins said. He’d just stood up from their table. The two men shook hands. It was the only kind of contract they needed. A handshake was as good as gold between two idealists of the same ilk. “I’ll get back to you with the preliminary posters” Justin was saying. He turned to leave the busy restaurant and looked directly into the shocked hazel eyes of Brian Kinney who was followed closely by Jim Stockwell as they made their way to their table. Justin shook his head. “Brian” he said as he moved past. “Anything for a buck, I see you haven’t changed all that much.” He murmured low enough that only Brian heard him. Justin knew he was heard by the flush that washed over Brian’s face. Jim Stockwell was soliciting votes from those around him. He turned to Justin, “I see you know Mr. Kinney,” he began. “I know Brian, but apparently we don’t bat for the same team these days.” Justin turned and walked out of the restaurant. “What did he mean by that Brian?” Jim looked at Justin’s retreating back. “It’s a mystery to me.” ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Later that night Brian, Emmett, Ted and Michael were in Woody’s to watch the latest fundraiser, an amateur strip show, with all proceeds going to charity. Debbie had been talked into being the MC and they were all there to support her. The place was packed and at first Brian didn’t notice the blond who stood to one side, his arm draped around a younger man’s shoulder. It was only the flash of gold against tanned skin, that caught his eye at first. Justin had his head back, his grin wide at something Deb had said on the stage. He turned and kissed the cheek of the handsome man he was with, dark curls and smoldering violet eyes that lit up at Justin’s attention. It was the intern Brian had been talking to earlier. Deb’s loud “Sunshine, you get that bubble but up here. I know you can dance, lets see how much money you can pull in off of these cheap fags.” Justin looked up at Deb and grinned. “I’ll dance – In fact boys and girls I’ll do the number I performed at our last Review at Dartmouth.” He said with confidence. “The cat calls and whistles were deafening. He leaned over and gave his date a mind blowing kiss then strutted up on the stage. “Ok boys and girls – let’s see how deep your pockets are – for every dollar you donate for this number, I’ll double it. Now hold on while I consult my band.” He grinned before he quietly asked the Disc Jockey to play a number from their Karaoke machine. He grabbed the microphone and the sultry strains of Janet Jackson’s Rope Burn blew over the crowd. The music was different enough that the room quieted. Tie me up, Tie me down, Make me moan real loud Justin used the microphone cord to demonstrate the words he cooed, his voice surprisingly strong. He thought to himself that it was times like this when his ten years of voice lessons and choir practice came in handy. Take off my clothes No one has to know, His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his nipple ring, tonight with a ruby, like a drop of blood glistening in the gold. He whispered – I wanna feel a soft rope burn, The room exploded in cheers Justin strutted along the front of the stage. His hand moving over his bare chest. When you walked into the room You knew just what to do You could have gone from door to door But you knew just where to go Justin looked directly at Brian, his words sung with a sultry whisper, his eyes burned deep into Brian, then he turned to strut the stage again, his ass wiggling provocatively. And tell me fantasies The passion in your voice I wanna hear You Come into my velvet room you start to tell me. Justin reached down and untied the tie from his date's neck While you’re at it take the blind fold Tie gently on me Don’t wanna see but feel the things You’re gonna do to me. He ran the tie over his eyes, you could almost see the audience salivate, they hung on to his every word, some of them who knew the song, were mouthing the words, mesmerized by the toned chest, with its gold ring, the jewel a cruel drop of mock blood. Tie me up, Tie me down Make me moan real loud Take off my clothes He undid the top button of his thin silk pleated pants, his semi erect cock outlined when the material tightened as he crouched for a few beats of the music. A ring matching the matching ring the ruby reflecting the light, the gold burnishing his skin peeked out from his loosened pants. A red beacon at the head of the golden down that trailed down to imagined treasures as his body undulated, imitating him topping some lucky participant. Brian standing in the background remembered his tongue rimming the button, tasting the essence of teenage boy; he could feel the burn deep in his groin with each word Justin sang. No one has to know I wanna a feel a soft rope burn The whispered words, along with Justin’s sensual gestures, brought the crowd to another roaring wave of approval. Wanna feel a rope burn One in the morning – I’m feeling so free and sensual His shirt was off, the sweat from the room glistening on his chest accentuating his firm muscles, he ran his hand over his nipple and down to his zipper, his tongue showed for a moment and his eyes rolled back in feigned ecstasy. Lyin’ here wearin’ Just my imagination for you Sensation will do Can you feel the warmth of the Candlelight embrace your body? Justin moaned the words then ran the microphone up his leg, pausing tantalizingly over his cock. His eyes found Brian’s once again, and smoldering heat ripped through the auburn haired ad executive once again. Brian’s balls tightened and he had to concentrate not to cum like some inexperienced twink. I’m feeling hot candle wax Drippin down the small of my back Tie me up Tie me down Justin strutted over to the other side of the stage; his actions making the entire audience see him naked, picturing themselves poised over him with a dripping candle. Make me moan real loud Take off my clothes No one has to know He whispered the words into the microphone, his blue eyes seeking his date’s violet ones, as his hand caressed the young face. I wanna feel a soft rope burn. Wanna feel a rope burn Tie me up, tie me down No one has to know His eyes caught Brian’s once again, though his hand stroked his date’s cheek as he whispered directly to Brian. I wanna feel a soft rope burn I wanna feel a The room erupted in a frenzy of shouts, the audience moved as one toward the stage as the all clamored to stuff money in Justin’s low slung trousers. Not one of them cared that he hadn’t removed all of his clothing like the previous participants. Every one of them could see him naked and they would be using him as a beat off fantasy for weeks to come. Justin’s date beamed at the attention Justin was receiving; enjoying the fact that he was the one with the blond fantasy tonight. The cop standing in the back desperately wanted to bust the place now. That performance was more lewd, and exotic than any full frontal strip show would ever be. He turned away, painfully aware of his throbbing cock, he didn’t want any of the other men on his squad to see how the blond beauty had affected him. Brian continued to stand quietly watching the crowd. He drank the last of his drink, setting the glass down on the table behind him. His mind full of the image of Justin as he was six years ago, soft and full of innocence, desperate for the validation of who he was by wanting Brian to love him. To be kind to him, to whisper words of love, to hold his hand, anything that would tell him he was real, he was normal, he was queer and that was alright. Things that Brian wouldn’t or couldn’t do for the young boy, he was no one’s hero. He was only a fag full of his own mental baggage and he was selfish enough to think he was the one who was most important that night on Liberty. It was all about him - Brian Kinney, when he drove the kid to school, outing him. It was all about him when he told a tearful boy, full of hopes and dreams that it was only a fuck. Only it wasn’t just a fuck, because the memory of that night has continued to haunt him until this very day. It wasn’t Justin who would remember his first time each time he was with someone else, though of course, no doubt he did. But rather it was he, Brian Kinney, that constantly sought the look of love and trust, that had never again been granted to him, no matter who he fucked or how many tricks he had since that night. “Justin sure has some brass balls.” Ted remarked. “I haven’t seen a performance like that ever, and I’ve seen some good ones.” “He’s nothing but a slut. For fuck sake, performing like that in front of everyone.” Michael spat out. “I for one think that was the most beautiful rendition of Janet Jackson’s song ever. I hope that someone captured it on tape, because that’s my new bed time lullaby.” Emmett’s eyes were dreamy as he thought of Justin’s song. “I declare, there was more than one set of wet undies after that performance.” Justin finished his beer, he handed Debbie the money he collected and told her to add it up. He’d make sure she got a check for his donation. His arm around the waist of his date, he sauntered out of the bar, heading for home. But not before casting a wide sunshine smile in Brian’s direction, wiggling his eyebrows up and down and blowing the stunned man a kiss. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Councilman Deekins agreed to stay away from the GLC on the night Stockwell was appearing. Justin arranged for him to have his own night to talk to the gay community. He knew this one would be full of controversy and it was best to separate the two men in everyone’s eyes. The GLC was packed; in fact it was standing room only. Woody’s had been shut down the night before, though they were once again open, because someone had stripped to the buff. Rumor had it that it was a bribe from Brian that had encouraged the man who was responsible. Justin looked around; it was adults only here tonight, just as he had anticipated. The press was everywhere. They listened to Stockwell’s prepared speech and finally it was time for the questions. Debbie stood up first – a 24 x 36 picture of Jason Kemp held high, and demanded to know why Jason Kemp, aka Dumpster Boy, why his murderer hadn’t been found and why the case had been, if not dropped, then relegated to the back burner. Stockwell stammered a reply that didn’t come close to satisfying anyone, and before he could recover from this question, Melanie stood with a picture of him that had been taken at his prom and demanded to know why Chris Hobbs was allowed to get away with bashing him. It went from bad to worse as person after person demanded to know why all of a sudden the police presence had increased on Liberty Avenue, when up until the election you couldn’t get a cop to show up even with a sale at Buggsy’s Donut Shoppe. As the crowd rose to its feet, demanding answers, Stockwell took the coward’s way and left quickly, refusing to give definitive answers to any of the questions asked. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Brian couldn’t get the blond out of his head. During the day, Matt, the intern seemed to turn up every five minutes reminding Brian of what must have happened when Justin took him home. Finally curiosity got the better of him and he followed the young man into the bathroom. He nodded to Matt then stood beside him and pissed. While zipping up and heading to the sinks to wash his hands Brian said. “So did you have fun the other night?” “I had a great time, but then I always do with Justin.” “Oh, are you his boyfriend?” Brian pretended interest in his hair in the mirror. “No, but we go out once in awhile.” Matt looked embarrassed. “He was my introduction to Liberty Avenue. We hit it off because of our interest in art and we’ve been friends ever since.” “Just friends?” “Excuse me?” Matt was thinking that Mr. Kinney was getting a bit too personal. What he did after work was none of the guys business. “I mean as fuck buddies, Justin could help you out in your career. Why didn’t you intern at his company?” “I don’t know why you are talking to me about this Mr. Kinney, but Justin is my friend. Sure we fucked the night we met, but Justin only fucks someone once and he never fucks friends. He says it’s some kind of rule he learned the day he came out and he’s followed it ever since. I don’t care. I like being his friend. I had this job as an intern before I met Justin. I’m glad because he definitely doesn’t fuck the people he works with. At least I had him once.” He looked at Brian almost with pity in his eyes. “Is that all Mr. Kinney, I don’t like to talk about my personal life at the office. Is it a job requirement?” “No, I was merely passing the time. Don’t get all excited Mutt.” Brian strolled out of the room, his face blank, his mind in turmoil as he made his way back to his office. He couldn’t get Justin out of his mind. The night at Woody’s was bad enough; he had to have jacked off to the image of Justin on the stage at least five times before he could sleep. He felt ridiculous each time, like he was going through some kind of second teenage hood. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He drove past Justin’s house for hours, trying to get the nerve to call or stop and ring the doorbell; finally at almost three he headed for the loft and his right hand. How pathetic. Last night didn’t help either. Justin standing up with all of the protesters, his hand curled in on itself. He could tell Justin’s head was aching, by the slight frown he had. It was all he could do not to pull him out of the hot and crowded room and take him somewhere dark and cool. To hold him, rub his temples, anything to make him feel better. But he couldn’t. He forfeited the right to have Justin in his life, six years ago with his unfeeling words. Blue tear filled eyes haunt his sleep even now. Why? What was is it with this kid? No he isn’t a kid; he’s never been a kid as long as Brian had known him. He’d always been older than his years. Brian sat in his office chair and turned his computer on to check the demographics on the mayoral race. Deekins and Stockwell were almost even. The edge that Stockwell had before, had been lost last night. “Was Justin helping Deekins?” he wondered. His phone rang, checking the caller ID he answered. “Hey Mikey, what’s up?” “Ben’s out of town, why don’t we go to Babylon tonight.” “No can do, I’m busy tonight.” “Doing what? Can I help?” “I’m planning on stalking someone, so that would be a no.” Brian laughed. “Besides Mikey, we were there not that long ago. Are you getting tired of married life? Need time with us carefree bachelors?” Brian’s tongue in cheek smirk came across the phone lines and Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Asshole, I was asking you to go out with me because we haven’t been out together, you and I in ages. You are my best friend.” “You’re living with Ben now Mikey, maybe he should be your best friend. I can be just an old friend. Life moves on.” “Are you coming or not?” “I told you Mikey, I’m busy. I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Brian hung up the phone before Michael could start up again. He checked the time and was surprised to see his workday was almost over. Brian opened his desk drawer and pulled out a file folder, opening it, he stared down at the face of Justin and his son as they laughed at him amid a pile of brightly colored pillows. He smiled as he remembered the day. He remembered how much fun Gus had in the pool and with Justin, how comfortable Lindsay and Melanie were with Justin and how the blond welcomed Emmett in as part of the group. He looked at his phone; maybe he should give Justin a call. He started to dial and then changed his mind, breaking the connection. Brian thought about going home, but the thought of the empty loft, normally something he looked forward too, seemed somehow stark and lonely, and so instead, he sighed and pulled out another file and began to work on one of his current campaigns. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ When Brian did get home later that evening, he changed out of his business suit, drank a bottle of water and paced the floor. He tried to read, to eat the take out leftovers from the night before, to surf the net, the television, to watch one of his DVD’s, to listen to music, nothing calmed him. Finally in desperation he shrugged on his leather jacket and headed out for a walk. The moon was hidden behind a bank of heavy clouds, shadows danced from street lamp to street lamp as he walked. He didn’t think he had any particular destination in mind until the familiar trees of Justin’s neighborhood appeared. It had started to rain lightly somewhere along the way, though he hadn’t really noticed until he decided to light a cigarette. He looked in surprised outrage at the sky for betraying him. Something made him turn down Justin’s street; he walked past the large house that was set back from its neighbors. He could see a few lights on inside, but the blinds were drawn and Justin’s rooms continued to remain a mystery, though he remembered the white living room fondly. It was so Justin, yet if was almost as if he himself had decorated, their tastes in furnishing were similar. It was then he wondered how Justin had managed to buy the house. He hadn’t been out of school at that long, he couldn’t have earned that much money, even for a down payment, in the few short months he’d been working, no matter how good he was. Brian wondered, and not for the first time, what Justin’s neighbors were thinking. This was the fourth night he’d paced up and down the street, watching the house until he was forced by exhaustion to go home. This night was different; he leaned against a large oak tree, the canopy protecting him from the rain, and lit a cigarette. He’d stand here and watch for a few minutes before heading back. It was late, maybe not as late as yesterday, but still he had a full day tomorrow. At least with all this walking he’d been able to stay off the treadmill. The Justin Taylor exercise program as performed by Brian ‘loser’ Kinney went through his mind. “You know Brian, if you want to see me, you have my phone number.” Justin’s voice came from behind him. It took all Brian’s control not to scream or jump. “Peeping doesn’t become you.” “I was out for a walk and the rain drove me under the tree. I was going to leave when it stopped.” The excuse sounded feeble even to Brian, but it was the best he could do. “And last night, and the night before and the night before that?” “Your street happens to be on my walking route. I get sick of the treadmill.” “Whatever.” Justin reached for Brian’s cigarette, took it from his mouth and had a drag. “This’ll kill you Brian.” He commented, the placed the cigarettes back between Brian’s lips. “So could a taxi, but I still take them.” Brian paused, “you working for Deekins now?” “It was only fair Brian. He needed help and I’m the best.” “I’m the best Sonny Boy, but I admit you’re not bad.” “If you were the best, you would have integrity. If you had that, you wouldn’t be promoting a homophobe like Stockwell.” “It’s a job Justin, part of what I do. I sell things. I sell dog food but I don’t eat the fucking stuff. I sell Stockwell, that doesn’t mean I have to believe what he says or does.” “I guess that’s where we’re different. I don’t work on anything I don’t truly believe in. I don’t care whether it’s dog food or politics. It’s the only way I can live with myself.” “You believe in Deekins for mayor?” “I believe he’s fair, a better man for the job. I believe he won’t use his position to get on his own personal soapbox and ram it down our throats. If Stockwell gets in, see how long it takes before the backrooms and the bath houses are shut down.” “Use them a lot do you?” “No, but they are there if I want to. No one has decided for me whether or not I can have the freedom to get a blowjob in the back room, or the baths. Places like that serve a purpose. In, out, a minimum of fuss, no apologies, no regrets.” He laughed and the sound was cynical. “Where did I hear that before?” The rain began in earnest, it was virtually a downpour and water began to run in small rivers down the streets and driveways. Justin looked at Brian; he was weighing his options and then decided to chance it. “Come into the house Bri, you can get dried off. I’ll take you back to the loft later.” Brian looked at Justin, not sure what the man was asking. Did he want more than his company? “Brian, this isn’t brain surgery here, are you coming or going?” They both were flung back in time to a scared teenage boy and a tweaked out man. The words had haunted Justin for years, but he’d used them himself, always giving credit to the man who had said them to him in the first place. Hazel eyes looked into his almost as if the roles truly were reversed and Brian was the one trembling in fear and anticipation, though Justin thought this highly unlikely. Justin held out his right hand, the one with the tendency to clench when he was tired. Brian took it in his left one, bringing it up to his lips, kissing each finger tenderly before threading his fingers through Justin’s. They both walked slowly through the warm rain toward the house. Inside Brian was struck again by the simplistic beauty of the decorating. He could see that Justin had selected the floor tiles in the foyer with care, having them blend down the hallway and into the bright and cheerful kitchen. Two of Gus’s paintings of pink cats hung on Justin’s fridge. Another was matted on the table. Brian could see that Justin had been in the process of framing it. “I don’t think that’s his best art work Justin.” Brian began, indicating the two pictures on the fridge. “I think they’re pretty good. He’s only six, yet his perception is amazing. He’s captured the essence of Thor and Fang.” He turned over the one he was framing. “This one is my favorite, it was tough deciding, and I may still end up framing the other two. I’m not sure.” He held up the picture. The two cats were standing on their rear legs reaching for a golden key on a dusty blue ribbon. “If you look at this one, you can see he has them perfectly shaped. Even for an older artist, the cats’ body is not easy to draw, and stretched like this is even harder. I admit that in a few years, he’ll think these are pretty amateurish, but to me, they’re better than a Picasso.” “But why does he keep making them pink?” Brian shook his head. “I mean, really, black, grey, white even, but pink” he looked at Justin. “Do you think he’s a mini flamer like Emmett and that this weird ass sense of color starts at six?” Justin shook his head and laughed. Brian obviously had never seen Fang and Thor. It should be interesting when they meet. “Don’t worry about it Brian, you can put it down to artistic license, whatever you want.” He walked over to a cupboard with a glass door and opened it. Can I get you a drink? I do have some Beam.” “Plying me with alcohol, so you can have your way with me Sunshine?” Brian joked. Justin poured two drinks into crystal glasses. He handed one to Brian. “If I wanted my way with you Brian, I wouldn’t need alcohol. But I’ve already had you, or I suppose you already had me. I wouldn’t want any rules to be broken, so we’ll take our drink out to the porch and sit and watch the rain.” Justin turned and led the way to the back of the house, turning off the bright light in the kitchen as they walked through. Brian sat on one end of the porch swing and Justin took the other. Justin did look at the rocking chair a few feet away and then thought, why not be comfortable; it wasn’t like he couldn’t control the situation. The two of them started to talk, to really talk something they hadn’t done before. Brian noticed a blue ribbon hanging with a flash of gold on the end. “Is that where Gus had the idea for the picture?” he asked casually. He let a hand snake out and grabbed the ribbon, pulling it close to look at what Justin had tied to the end. “Justin, this is a Phi Beta Kappa key.” “Yeah, the cats needed something to bat around; it was all I could find at the time. Gus likes it.” “You were Phi Beta Kappa at Dartmouth?” “It’s no biggie Brian, it happened. I was probably their token queer.” Justin turned, adjusted a pillow behind his back and put his feet in Brian’s lap. “Your grades must have been something else. Gardner said you had a double major.” He began to massage Justin’s sock covered feet. “I had no choice but to major in marketing. My father insisted and frankly at the time I didn’t give two shits. But being the perverse little queer I was, I also insisted on majoring in Fine Arts.” He held up his bad hand. “Let me tell you there were times I would have cut this sucker off. But I did ok.” “Next I suppose you’ll tell me you were Magnum Cum Laude.” Brian joked. “and valedictorian too I suppose?” Justin rolled his eyes and said. “Did you see the lightning over there?” “You were, you little shit.” “It’s nothing special Brian. I was there, I did the work, I graduated.” “If you graduated Cum Laude, you must have had a lot of job offers. Why’d you come back to the Pitts.” “I left something here. I wanted to see if I could either get it back and move on, or learn to live without it.” “What was that Justin?” Brian looked at him. The porch was shadowed and the rain played its own summer time tune on the rooftop. The smell of wet hot concrete and soggy flowers was heavy in the air, a summer rain smell. Justin looked at him wondering if he should take a chance and tell him. He drank the last of his drink as if fortifying himself. “My heart, my heart is here in Pittsburgh, I had to follow it. I had to know whether a seventeen year old’s heartbreak was real, or if it was romanticized and imagined. I had to know Brian, because not knowing was driving me crazy.” “Did you get your answer?” “Yes” Justin’s voice was bittersweet. “Yes I got my answer. I don’t know if it was the one I wanted. But it’s mine and I’ll learn to live with it, like I have other disappointments in my life.” He waved his hand as an example. “Will you tell me?” “No” They looked at each other and then away, not sure if the signs they were reading were real or not. Justin looked back at the rain soaked back yard and sighed. He could sit here forever with Brian beside him, his hands touching him. He shook his head, clearing away the fingers that hope that were starting to move in his brain. “The rain’s stopped Brian, it’s late, I’ll drive you home.” He stood up, regret heavy in the air. ”Watch your step coming into the house.” Was all he said and he moved off into the large house. Taking his keys from a bowl on a marble table in the foyer, he opened a door into the garage. “The car is through here Brian.” He flipped on the light and stepped up to the car, clicking the electronic lock and hearing the satisfying snick as the locks on both sides released. Brian joined him in the garage, moving slower, because he wasn’t sure what had happened. They had actually talked, had been learning things about each other, when Justin decided it was time for him to leave. Maybe he was giving Justin the wrong signals. He wanted the blond and he wanted him badly. Instead of saying anything, he climbed into the passenger seat of the sunshine yellow, BMW convertible. Justin opened the heavy doors with the remote and backed out carefully. They drove in silence to Brian’s loft where the blond pulled up as close as he could to Brian’s entrance. “It was nice having you stop by tonight Brian.” Justin began. “I enjoyed talking to you.” He thought for a moment. “If you aren’t doing anything Saturday night, I’d love to have you come over for dinner.” Brian wasn’t sure why, but his heart began to beat more rapidly. “I’d like that Justin. I’ll call you later to arrange a time.” Justin smiled wryly, and nodded his agreement. He watched Brian turn to open his door. “Brian” he began. “The thing is, I don’t fuck anyone twice, because I don’t want anyone to get close to me.” He hesitated, his voice a little shaky. “I’m afraid.” He whispered. “What happened on our first night together – I’ve never forgotten – I probably never will – It hurt Brian, not the fucking part, well not much and it was amazing, it was how I felt inside – it’s colored how I am now – how I will be in the future – I’m afraid to let it happen again – see, right now it’s a memory – a memory that is still tender – if there’s a second time – a second time between you and I – and it turns out the same – it’ll fucking kill me.” He turned back so that he was looking out onto the glistening street, surprised that he’d managed to keep the tears in check. It wasn’t something he did easily. “Justin’ Brian began “I’ll see you Saturday Brian.” His words dismissed the man with the sad hazel eyes. Brian got out of the car; he had almost closed the door, when he leaned in. “I guess I’ll be seeing you in my dreams eh Sunshine, until Saturday.” He shut the door and walked into his building, not sure whether the dampness on his cheeks was tears or raindrops.