Chapter 9 - On The Sunny Side of the Street.

Brian awoke several hours later to the sound of soft, quiet snuffling coming from the sleeping figure beside him. His entire body felt numb from lying still for so long, but as he tried to move into a more comfortable position, the warm, snugly blond boy in his arms burrowed himself deeper into Brian’s embrace, sighing happily in his slumber.

The more his sleepy Blue Eyes snuggled back against him, the harder Brian felt himself become. He groaned softly, enjoying the way the blond’s ass fit so fucking perfectly against him; Justin, as the little spoon, nestled up against Brian’s big spoon . . . A big spoon that was feeling pretty randy by that point in the proceedings, to be honest.

Brian couldn’t help himself; his hands began to wander down the sleeping man’s body without conscious thought. He started at Justin’s stomach, pleasantly surprised at how firm it felt under his fingers. Brian debated whether or not to slide his hands under Justin’s shirt; it was as though Justin’s warm, sleepy body was calling out to him to be touched. That silky smooth skin just begging to be stroked. The warm secret places anxious to be fondled. Brian couldn’t help but wonder if Justin’s body was as deliciously milky white as the skin on his face. His fingers itched to explore further.

Justin moaned contently as his body began to slowly wake up. His mind, however, was stuck in that delightful place between sleep and wakefulness and was therefore still blissfully unaware of Brian’s roaming hands.

Brian began pressing gentle kisses to the side of Justin’s neck, loving the way the blond moved his head, subconsciously craving the feeling of Brian’s warm mouth on his skin.

As Brian continued kissing his sleepy blond, his hands wandered under the stiff material of Justin’s shirt, feeling the hot skin of Justin’s belly beneath his fingers. Brian grinned wickedly when he noticed the way his touch left goose bumps over Justin’s silky skin. Brian’s hands caressed further up Justin’s body, moving from his taut stomach up to his chest, where Brian’s fingers naturally found their way to Justin’s nipples. Justin’s back arched as Brian’s fingers teased them gently. He quickly brought his hand out from under Justin’s shirt and sucked a couple of fingers into his mouth, then returned them back to Justin’s nipples, rolling them into hard little peaks, and not relenting until he heard little mewls of pleasure from his now alert blond boy.

“Good afternoon,” Brian breathed heavily against Justin’s ear. “Sleep well?”

Justin nodded, his breathing loud and labored as he lay there and let Brian touch him.

“Did you know you snored?” Brian asked breathily, as his hand rubbed soft circles down Justin’s body, finding the softest of happy trails, which led to what Brian was sure was the happiest place on earth.

His Blue Eyes gulped loudly as Brian’s hand found it’s destination and began to caress the very impressive and very hard bulge he found there.

Justin lay still, moaning contently as Brian squeezed and rubbed, but after only a minute or two his body tensed up and he pushed Brian’s hand away.

“Brian . . . don’t . . . please . . . I . . . I can’t.”

Brian tried to turn the blond in his arms so that they were facing each other, but Justin refused to budge. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Brian,” Justin began to apologize, still unwilling or unable to look Brian in the eyes when explaining. “I guess . . . I’m just not ready.”

Justin sounded so unsure of what he was saying, what he was feeling, that alarm bells started to go off in Brian’s head. The Stud sank back against the pillows, feeling a little defeated and confused. He knew he was missing something here, but had no clue what.

It wouldn’t be the first time Brian had been rejected by a guy. Normally, if that happened, he’d just chalk it up to experience and move on. But it didn’t feel like that was what was going on here. And, although it was totally out of character for him, this time he knew he couldn’t just leave it there. He couldn’t simply walk away from Justin. Justin wasn’t just some trick he’d picked up in the back room of a club whose rejection could be easily shrugged off. Even in just the short time he’d known the young pilot, Justin had already come to mean more than that. So, instead of blowing off the rest of this conversation, as well as the boy who didn’t seem to know his own mind, Brian renewed his hold on the blond and made the ultimate sacrifice - he offered to talk about Justin‘s feelings.

“I don’t understand, Justin. You don’t have to apologize, but . . . help me understand what’s going on here. It seemed like you were enjoying everything . . . up to a point. So, what did I do wrong? What got you so spooked?” Brian asked, not wanting to pressure the boy, but just trying to figure this thing out in his own mind. “I thought you liked when I kissed you.”

“I did. I do. You can still kiss me,” Justin told him quietly. “If you want to, that is. It’s not the kissing . . .”

“I definitely still want to kiss you, you silly Twat,” Brian insisted, proving his point by leaving a small kiss on Justin’s cheek as evidence. “So what did I do that freaked you out, then?” When Justin didn’t answer right away, Brian sighed again. This was going to take more than the usual amount of finesse, he thought. “Okay, let’s work this out. You don’t mind the kissing. What about touching? Can I touch you?” Brian moved his hand back under Justin’s shirt and slowly began to caress his warm stomach. Justin’s body still felt tense in his arms, and the urge for Brian to find some way to comfort the frightened youth became even more intense. “Is this okay?” he asked, basically insisting on an answer.

“Yes,” Justin breathed out the word as his body gradually started to relax and he melted into Brian’s touch once more. “That’s nice, actually.”

“Good. So, then, just tell me where the line is. I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you’re not ready for. Just tell me what it is that you want.” Still, Justin remained silent, but Brian was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Come on, Blue Eyes. I can tell something's bothering you, but I’m not a very good mind reader. You’re going to have to actually tell me what’s going through that silly little blond head of yours.”

“It’s just . . . this is new to me,” Justin explained nervously, sounding so unsure and unlike his usual strong, forthright self. “I’ve never . . . I mean . . . I’ve wanted to . . . but I’ve never . . .”

Brian waited for his nervous blond to continue talking, suffering through the silence stoically, knowing that if he refused to fill the empty space, Justin would be forced to continue, even if he didn’t want to. And it worked. After almost five minutes of nothing, Brian felt Justin’s whole body slump in his arms as he gave up the fight against himself.

“I guess I always knew I was queer. Or at least, I knew it from a pretty early age. I always liked to draw and sing. But that wasn’t acceptable to my father, so I did my best to fit in. To keep up with the other boys. I figured I was the only one who had these strange feelings. That there must’ve been something wrong with me.”

Brian hugged the slim body even tighter to his chest in sympathy but didn’t interrupt for fear of staunching the flow of words.

“It wasn’t till I was in high school - fourteen or fifteen - that I realized I wasn’t alone. It was the director of the youth choir at my parents’ church who brought me out for the first time. He started off by complimenting me, saying how perfect my voice was - you know, the usual stuff. Before long he was singling me out and keeping me after practice. It didn’t go very far - just some fondling and the like. When he started to get a little too insistent, I quit the choir. Which, by the way, pleased my father to no end. But at least, after that, I knew I wasn’t the only one who had inappropriate feelings for other boys.”

“Fucking pervert,” was Brian’s only comment.

“Other than that, though, I didn’t really have much of an opportunity to get any experience,” Justin continued with his story. “I didn’t think there were any other queers in my neighborhood. My parents were quite religious and we spent a great deal of time in church where any type of ‘perversion’ was railed against. My father regularly disparaged any man he saw that, in his opinion, wasn’t manly enough, which gave me even more incentive to hide. I grew up thinking that, maybe I wasn’t the only one like this, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t wrong. I definitely never even dreamed of acting on my inclinations.”

Brian didn’t think it would do any good to commiserate with the younger man now, even though he could empathize after experiencing the same thing in his own youth. Although Brian had had the benefit of growing up after the Stonewall Riots and the sexual revolution of the 60s, he thought every gay boy probably had a similar moment in his past. It was a common thread that tied them all together, regardless of what era they grew up in.

“It wasn’t till I was rejected by the Army, that I even really admitted it to myself,” Justin confessed. “After being labeled a ‘homosexual’ - having it stamped on a piece of paper and shoved in my face - there really was no sense in denying it anymore, was there? A disgrace, by the way, that my father will never let me live down, even if I wanted to deny it.”

“Fucking fathers,” Brian murmured. “What the fuck do they know anyway?”

That at least elicited a small chuckle from his contemplative blond. “That was pretty much my reaction, as well. After trying all my life to please that man, I finally realized there was no way I would ever succeed. It was quite liberating, actually. From that point on, I knew that I would only have to please myself. I would only ever have to live up to my own expectations. Which is why I decided I wasn’t going to let the US Army Air Corps stop me.”

THERE was the streak of stubbornness that Brian found so attractive. He liked the hint of defiance in his perky little pilot's voice when he made that statement. That was the boy who had captivated him from the first moment they’d laid eyes on each other.

“I also decided that I was no longer going to be ashamed that I was queer. I couldn’t change the fact, even though I’d tried for years. And I now had the official, stamped piece of paper saying that I am, indeed, as queer as they come, so why fight it? I may not flaunt it, but I don’t want to be forever afraid of it either.”

“Good,” Brian echoed the younger man’s defiant attitude and earned himself a tentative grin.

“Which is really a very long-winded way of explaining that I have absolutely no experience in actually being queer,” Justin elucidated. “Since I’ve come to London, I’ve only had a few, very brief, encounters. A couple of guys have asked me out from time to time, and, well . . .”

Brian could see as well as feel the blush rising along the boy’s neck and cheeks. Justin seemed determined, though, not to let his embarrassment stop him this time.

“I’ve heard all the guys talking, you know? Some of them like to brag about EVERYTHING they’ve done, so I kind of know what to expect. I’ve even touched a few guys, and they’ve touched me - which was nice and all - and one time this guy I went out with offered to let me put it in his mouth - which felt really amazing - but that’s as far as I’ve gone. I mean, I couldn’t see myself letting just anyone cornhole me in some tea room or something. That just didn’t seem right.”

Finally, Justin twisted around in Brian‘s arms a little, enough so he could look at Brian face-to-face. “But I can tell, just by the way you act, that you’ve had a lot more experience than me, Brian. And I want that; I want it all. Eventually. I guess . . . Well, to be honest, I was a bit scared that you’d be disappointed when you found out that I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Or that you’d expect me to go faster than I’m ready for. I get the feeling you're used to men who are a lot more . . . forward . . . than I am. And, if that’s the case . . . If that’s what you want, Brian, then maybe we should just stop this right now. Because I’m not that man. Not yet, anyhow.”

Brian saw the rebellious gleam sparkling in the gemstone bright eyes, heard the obstinate challenge in the younger man’s tone, and fell for Justin all over again. Nothing was as big a turn on to Brian as confidence. And he’d never met anyone as confident, as quietly brave and defiantly strong, as this unassuming-looking young man. That kind of dauntless self-assurance, even in the face of all the myriad of obstacles that had been thrown in his path, was probably the sexiest fucking thing Brian had ever encountered.

“Maybe not, but you will be, Blue Eyes. You will be. And I plan to be there with you all the way,” Brian vowed, surprising himself with the conviction he heard in his own voice. “If you’ll let me.”

“I’d be honored to have the benefit of your experience, Mr. Kinney,” Justin stated formally. “But perhaps we could take things a little more slowly? I think I might have to work up to your level of expertise. I promise I’m a quick study, though, so you shouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“I accept, Mr. Taylor. I’d be more than happy to bestow my years of experience upon you,” Brian responded in kind, although with a teasing lilt to his words. “However, if you want to slow things down, we’re going to have to get out of bed now, because if I stay here any longer with your hot little body pressed up against me, I’m not sure how slow I can go.”

“Agreed. I think relocating to somewhere OTHER than your bed, is an excellent preventative measure,” Justin assented, twisting around so he could leave a quick, happy kiss on Brian’s lips before jumping out of the bed. “Thank you for listening, Brian, and for not laughing at me,” he added.

“My pleasure, Blue Eyes,” Brian replied as he rolled out of bed himself. “And thank YOU for being honest with me.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Brian. There’s nothing I hate more than liars.”

Since they were forced to abandon Brian’s preferred entertainment option for the afternoon, they decided to go for Plan B and head to the movies. It was a nice day out, so they opted to walk to the theater, enjoying the relatively balmy weather and the company as they slowly ambled along. When they got to the Odeon, Brian was thrilled to see that today’s offering was one of his all-time favorite movies: High Sierra.

High Sierra Trailer (good for a laugh)

“Excellent!” Brian exclaimed in his enthusiasm. “That’s probably my favorite movie ever. I’ve seen it, like, a hundred times.”

“Huh? How can you have seen it a hundred times?” Justin asked, looking at Brian with real confusion. “Didn’t it just come out?”

“Um . . . Uh . . . I saw it in the States before I came over here,” he qualified, annoyed that he’d slipped up so easily.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. But a hundred times?” Justin kidded him, with an elbow to his middle. “A HUNDRED?”

“Well, I may have exaggerated, a little,” Brian admitted with a grin. “But you’re going to love it. It’s probably one of Bogie’s best films ever.”

Brian rushed over to buy two tickets, refusing to let Justin contribute to the purchase price. Then, since they had about forty-five minutes to kill before showtime, they stepped across the street and had a quick bite of lunch at a nearby cafe. But they were back at the theater in good time to be one of the first allowed into the matinee performance. Brian led his boy up to the balcony, marvelling over the interior of the elegant art deco theater - which had unfortunately been updated and refurbished by his day, obliterating the original glory of the grand space. And, once the lights went down and the previews started, Brian reached over to hold Justin’s hand in the dark, happy as a clam that his afternoon wooing plan was going so well.

Brian really did love this movie. He was able to recite most of Bogart’s important lines, annoying Justin as he whispered them in the younger man’s ear, and even earning them a few ‘shhh’es from their neighbors when the giggling became too much. Justin complained that he would have to come watch the movie another time all by himself because he’d missed half of it while fending Brian off. But it was all said in good fun.

“Sheesh. You really weren’t kidding about this being one of your favorite movies, were you, Brian?” Justin admonished as they got up from their seats after the end credits. “How did you manage to memorize all the lines like that?”

“I told you, I’ve seen it a few times already,” Brian bragged with a grin. “I love Bogart movies. Growing up he was my idea of the perfect man. I just wish I’d had the chance to meet him once.”

“Well, you never know. You might still get to meet him one day, I imagine. Maybe if you took a trip to Hollywood,” Justin answered, almost catching Brian out again on the whole time and tenses thing. He really needed to watch that more carefully.

Before they left the theater, Justin happened to see a small line of people queued up in the corner of the lobby. Since he was curious, he pulled Brian over in that direction, only to discover that they were all waiting to get a turn in the fancy new ‘photo booth’ the management had set up there. Brian, who’d seen these contraptions a hundred times over the course of his life, was unimpressed, but Justin was simply amazed at the very idea of a contraption that would let just anyone sit for instantly developed pictures.

“Applesauce! What will they think of next?” Justin declared, staring over the shoulder of a recent photographee to look at the small stip of pictures with open admiration.

Brian couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out at his boy’s wonderment. If the kid only knew what else was out there . . . “Well, come on then, let’s get in line.”

“What? Us? Get photos?” Justin hissed, seeming scandalized by the idea. “We can’t do that, Brian.”

“Of course we can. It’s just a photo together,” he asserted, pulling Justin over to join the line of people. Then he leaned in so he could whisper, “I promise not to do anything compromising in the pictures, like kiss you or anything . . . even though I’m fucking dying to do that right now, you silly twat.”

Justin, predictably, blushed so hard that Brian was almost worried he’d overheat and explode. He loved being able to fluster the boy so easily. It was an amusing little game he could play anytime he chose. Justin didn’t object too much, though, to the idea of getting their picture taken and stood compliantly in the line till it was their turn.

While they were waiting, they listened in on the conversations of the groups in front of them in line. Most of the discussions involved planning out the various poses they all intended to take for their pictures. The general trend seem to be leaning towards humorous photos. This was especially true for the larger groups, those with three or more people, like the rowdy group of young sailors who were trying to figure out how many people they could fit into the booth at one time. Several of them were already practicing silly faces, and earning themselves rounds of laughter from their compatriots.

“Edward Mayfield,” one very young woman shrieked as soon as she grabbed up her pictures, which had plopped down into the little slot as soon as they were developed. “How dare you sneak a kiss in a picture like this? If my father sees this, he’s likely to tan your hide good and proper.”

Brian could see the suspect picture, which the girl was waving in everyone’s faces, apparently attempting to get sympathy from the rest of the customers for her dire plight. In it, you could see the girl posing prettily for the camera, completely unsuspecting, while her beau must’ve quickly turned his head just as the shutter snapped. The resulting image would forever evidence the boy’s face, puckered up, with his mouth only millimeters from her plump rosy cheek. The boy himself - a tall gangling lad dressed in an army uniform that was far too baggy on his lanky frame - as well as the rest of the audience in the theater, seemed to think the prank was hilarious.

“Well, Sadie, your father is going to have to catch me first,” the boy teased, pulling the strip of photos out of the girl's hand and dancing away from her. “And seeing as I’m shipping out first thing Monday morning, I reckon I’ll be safe.”

As the pair chased each other out of the theater, Justin shot a warning glance Brian’s way. “I promised, Blue Eyes,” Brian quietly assured his skittish blond. “No kidding.”

“So, what pose should WE do?” Justin asked when there were only a couple people left in front of them in the line. “I don’t think I want to goof off like all these others.” Justin looked distastefully after one particularly obnoxious group of young men who’d just left with their series of silly shots. Then his voice fell to a confidential hush and he added, “I don’t want our first picture together to be like THAT.”

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head indulgently at the ridiculously romantic boy. “So, what? You want us to frown at the camera, looking all serious, like one of those old-fashioned daguerreotypes where the people look like it physically pains them to have their picture taken?”

“No. But . . .” He thought about it a little, then smiled shyly up at Brian again. “I just feel like I want to take this thing, whatever it is, seriously. Give it some weight. Make it feel substantial. Real.” Then he laughed at himself self-consciously. “That sounds so pretentious, doesn’t it?”

Brian was struck by the realization that Justin must be feeling some of the same undertones he’d been experiencing with whatever this thing was.

“No, Blue Eyes, that sounds perfect to me. Serious but not sad, then? Just peaceful and . . . Comfortable?” he proposed.

“Exactly.”

By then it was their turn in the booth. Brian let Justin go in first, then slid in after him, pulling the heavy velvet drape closed behind them. Brian got a handful of coins out of his pocket, ready to insert them, and then squished in next to Justin on the narrow bench.

“I have an idea, Brian,” Justin said, sounding quite sure of himself. “It’s something I saw in a museum once when my parents took me to New York. I think it’ll work just fine for our picture.”

Brian was game, so he let his little artist arrange them both without protest. They sat quietly, in the pose Justin had arranged, and waited through the three bright flashes of light. Then they calmly exited the booth and waited beside the machine while it clicked and chugged and whirred, until the small celluloid strip with their pictures printed on the front slid into the slot. Justin eagerly grabbed for the finished product, snatching it up and looking at it intently. Apparently, he liked what he saw, snatching it up and looking at it intently, his face quickly changing into a radiant smile. Without even showing Brian, Justin turned on his heel and practically skipped out the door of the theater, the strip of photos held tightly against his chest as if he were keeping the treasure safe.

“Well . . . Are you going to show me, or do I have to wrestle you for ‘em?” Brian asked once they were out of the theater and away from potential eavesdroppers.

With a smug little smile, his Blue Eyes handed over the filmstrip.

Brian had to agree, they’d turned out perfectly.

With the stip of photos in hand, Brian escorted Justin down the street, headed back to The Strand.

The next item on his wooing agenda was dinner at the fancy hotel restaurant and then . . . whatever came up after. But, since dinner wasn’t served until seven pm, they had quite a bit of time to kill. Brian didn’t think it wise to further tempt Gears and the other hostile denizens of the White Lion by going over there for a pre-dinner drink, but that left him a bit at loose ends. However, since the weather was still cooperating with Brian’s romantic plans, he decided a stroll would serve his purpose nicely. Accordingly, he guided his Blue Eyes down the Charing Cross Road towards the river, ambling along at a casual pace and window shopping while they walked.

Justin was feeling quite chatty and regaled Brian with a lot of amusing stories about the things he’d seen and done in London since his arrival several months earlier. Brian found himself enjoying not only the conversation but the walk itself. It was turning out to be such a relaxed and pleasant afternoon.

Just strolling along, with no time constraints and no real destination was a rare experience for him. Back in his own time, Brian was a busy guy - he almost always had somewhere he needed to be and an agenda for every minute of his time. Except for his evenings of prowling at the bars and clubs, that is. But even then, he was always focused on some personal agenda - which guy he was pursuing, how best to round up his desired prey, what needed to be done to uphold his studly reputation as the Lord of Liberty Avenue. It felt like he hadn’t had a chance to just walk around and do nothing in . . . well, ever. And this afternoon with Justin, when he had no ulterior motive, no agenda, no real plans and no schedule to stick to, was therefore quite a change for him. It was completely out of character for the Brian of 2016, but it seemed perfectly acceptable, and even desirable, to the Brian Kinney here in 1941.

As they passed by the imposing structure of the National Gallery, Justin again lamented the fact that the museums were closed because of the war. Brian regretted it almost as much, thinking that his artistic little pilot would have had a blast spending the afternoon in the galleries there. Brian himself had been there several times but almost every visit he still found something new that captured his attention. It was a shame that Justin would never see it himself . . . But as soon as that unwelcome thought crossed his mind, Brian immediately banished it. Today wasn’t the time to worry about what might be coming up for his Blue Eyes come July. Today was for enjoying the fact that Justin was still here, now, and Brian intended to make the most of that fact while he could.

When they came to the end of Charing Cross, Justin suggested they take a turn around the wide open expanses of Trafalgar Square. Brian was happy to oblige and carefully led his blond through the crowds of people on the sidewalk over to the less congested areas in the middle of the square. Along with the rest of the tourists, they crossed over to get a better look at the grand pair of lions that guarded the foot of the huge plinth, skirting the large fountains which seemed to have been emptied of their water, probably also because of the war. As they went, Justin explained about the nasty bombing that had happened here back in October, just after he’d arrived in London to start his training. It was the first major air raid the boy had been through and the news about the event had scared him to death. Brian could believe that - especially since he’d only recently lived through his first air raid experience and was still recovering. Justin pointed out the damage that had been incurred by two of the poor lions, whose front paws were mangled and bent from an even more recent bombing incident. Unfortunately, it seemed that not even these brave national monuments were safe from the depredations of the German Blitzkrieg.

When they’d seen all the sights available in the Square, Brian gestured towards the southeast corner where The Strand headed off back towards Covent Garden and the hotel. Justin started to walk that direction, and Brian followed, coming up shoulder to shoulder with the younger man and feeling so at ease that he didn’t even think about it as he casually slipped his arm around Justin’s waist. It was such a familiar action. The motion felt perfectly natural to Brian. He’d walked that way - arm in arm with his friends or even a trick on occasion - so many times, it didn’t even register. It wasn’t until he felt Justin’s body freeze, the pilot’s steps halting in place, that Brian even realized that something was wrong. And even then it took him several long seconds before he understood exactly what the problem was.

Brian took a deep breath and carefully withdrew his hand from around Justin’s waist. He was acutely aware of the gust of cool air that hit his palm when it was no longer tucked up against his Blue Eyes’ side. He hated the guilty look that remained on the younger man’s face even after Brian had moved a half step away. He hated the furtive way Justin looked around them, as if trying to figure out who had seen; who might pose a threat.

“It won’t always be like this,” Brian tried to reassure the younger man. “Someday, Justin, we’ll be able to be out in the open. We will hold hands, kiss in public, even be allowed to get married. I promise.”

Justin scoffed and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as they continued walking back towards Brian’s hotel. “You really think . . .” He looked around him once more and, after confirming that there was nobody within earshot, added in a whisper, “queers will one day be able to do all that?” Brian nodded. “I think you’re dreaming, Brian . . . But even if all that MIGHT come about one day in the very distant future, it doesn’t help us here and now.”

And since Brian couldn’t come up with any way to counter Justin’s assertion, they walked the rest of the way back to the hotel in silence, carefully keeping an appropriate distance from one another, and making certain they did not touch again.