Part 8

"Is Justin saying something?"

Brian arrived at breakfast the next day with an origami windmill all ready in his pocket. Neither Ben nor Michael made it to breakfast, so he ate his egg white omelet and drank his guava juice in Emmett, Ted and Blake’s company. Sunshine waited on them with the same cheerfulness and efficiency as he did everyone else, though he briefly spoke to Blake about catching a ride with him to the Vic Grassi house. Apparently Blake volunteered his professional services as a psychologist on Tuesday afternoons.

The fiddler showed up as well, and again sat at the counter for breakfast, on the stool closest to the cash register, so that from his seat against the wall in the furthest booth, Brian had a perfect view of him and of his interactions with Justin. When Justin brought him his eggs over easy and buttered English muffins, Ian presented his closed hands to Justin, probably saying something like “Pick a hand.” Justin playfully tapped the violinist’s right hand. Ethan turned it over and opened it, revealing a Hershey’s Kiss. Justin blushed, but laughed. Then the fiddler turned over and opened his other hand, which of course also held a Hershey’s Kiss. Yes, Justin had him pegged. Ethan/Ian whomeverthefuck was a cheeseball, all right. And he looked so proud of himself.

Brian had a good look at the musician. He was obviously going for the bohemian look, and it suited him, but the boots on his feet were five hundred dollar Prada Bluefly boots

and Brian was pretty sure his rather innocent looking parka was a Fay, which had probably set someone back over a thousand bucks.

The well worn 501’s, the frayed fingerless gloves and the Keffiyeh scarf were nice touches, as well as the silver fire fighter ring he wore on his right thumb.

Brian wondered if it had belonged to a relative, or if it was just an affectation. The ring was traditionally worn on the ring finger of the right hand, which actually emphasized the diminutive size of the fiddler’s fingers, since it fit his thumb...

Brian smirked when he took in the fact that, though attractive, Ian’s nose was also rather small. Could picnics on the floor, romantic words and chocolates really compensate for a small dick?

“Where were you last night?” asked Emmett, interrupting his reverie. “You missed the most amazing event at Babylon. Drew showed up with half his team! As far as anyone knows, all his teammates are as straight as arrows. But they don’t have another game scheduled for ten days, and it’s a home game and they didn’t have practice today, so all the guys felt free to drink quite a lot; well, at least enough to lower their inhibitions so that they were OK spending the whole evening dancing with queers… Aside from Drew, none of them visited the back room though, but it was still a sight to see… Most of them had their shirts off and, well, Yum!… It was a wild night.”

“I had dinner with Mikey and Ben. Hmm, too bad I missed that. I wonder if I could have convinced one or two of those straight guys to give the other team a chance… Your gaydar didn’t ping for any of them?”

Emmett blushed. “Well, I kind of was busy with Drew all evening…and all night… so I didn’t really pay much attention to any of the others.”

“Oh!” said Ted, “Is Drew done sowing his wild oats? Has he come home to roost?”

“No, no. He’s still enjoying sampling the crème de la crème of queerdom, but he’s in town for almost two weeks. He just wants us to see as much of each other as I am comfortable with while he’s here. He says he misses me…”

Emmett looked both embarrassed and thrilled at the same time. Brian just hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for a fall.

Sunshine came to refill their coffees and check if they had all they needed, and as he was about to leave again, Brian said, “Oh, Sunshine, wait up.” He made a show of searching his pockets, and then presented his closed hands to Justin. “Pick a hand, Justin, any hand…”

Sunshine rolled his eyes and smacked his right hand. Brian turned it over and opened it. It held a condom. Justin chuckled. He turned over and opened his left hand, which held a packet of lube. Justin laughed outright.

“I’m sorry,” Brian said with a grin, happy that Justin was not upset that he was making fun of the fiddler, “I’m all out of cheap chocolates…” The others at the table were giving him weird looks since they had not witnessed Justin’s interaction with Ian.

Justin grabbed the condom and the lube. Brian raised his eyebrows at him. “What?” mocked Justin, “Do you think I want to die a virgin? For all I know, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow… So I’m sure these will soon come in handy…” He gave Brian his Sunshine smile, turned around and went back to work.

“Well,” said Ted. “That was interesting…” Brian certainly thought so too. A little disturbing as well, but he squashed that thought.

“Speaking of which,” continued Ted, “has Brandon given up on fucking Sunshine or is he still after him?”

“He hasn’t given up, but I called Justin last night and told him Brandon had mentioned being “half way there” on a path to fucking him and that I suspected his sudden interest in volunteerism was a move to ingratiate himself to Justin. So at least he is forewarned that Brandon just wants in his pants and he shouldn’t plan on a long term relationship. Justin can do with the information what he wants. If he really wants to lose his virginity, he could do worse than Brandon. After all, we are talking about a really experienced top here. I’m sure he would take his time and do right by Sunshine.” Brian decided he was wasted as an ad exec. He had been able to say that in a complete nonchalant tone and with a perfectly blasé attitude.

“And that wouldn’t bother you?” asked Blake.

“What wouldn’t bother me?” Fucking psychologist…

“That Justin should have his first experience with Brandon?” insisted Blake.

“Why should it? We all have to start somewhere…”

“You wouldn’t rather be the one to do the honors?” asked Ted, dubiously.

“Well, sure, if he wasn’t part of the family, I’d love to pop the kid’s cherry. Wouldn’t you? With an ass like that on him, who wouldn’t? But I would no more fuck him than you or Emmett, for god’s sake. ” He looked at the clock. “Well, Theodore, time to kiss your man goodbye. Do you want a ride?”

Ted looked at him, surprised. He usually walked to work from the diner, Blake needing the car for his much longer commute. “That’d be great Brian, it’s nasty out there today.”

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

Sunshine was behind the counter. Brian handed him a twenty, and said, “Keep the change.” The little windmill was tucked under the twenty. Justin could obviously feel it and he smiled as he answered, “Thanks, Brian.” Brian smiled back, looking into his eyes a second too long.

As usual, Brian was parked illegally in the alley on the side of the diner. He only got a ticket about once a week, and to him, the convenience was well worth the thirty-eight dollars in fines. He and Ted were at the office in less than five minutes, parking underground in his reserved spot, and they rode the elevator talking about the Giani Pasta campaign Brian had to design.

Ted only saw the $150,000 ad budget of the company and was congratulating Brian on snagging the account. He had no concept of the difficulty involved in coming up with a campaign worthy of that budget. After all, as far as he was concerned, Brian always came through and he had sat in on a couple presentations where Brian made it look so easy…

***********

Still struggling with several different possible concepts for the pasta ad, Brian was glad when lunchtime rolled around. He needed a break and a dose of blond boy before coming back and looking at it anew.

It was snowing again, but the sidewalks had been salted and were almost snow free. His Rafael umbrella protected both him and his Jos. A. Banks cashmere overcoat from the elements and his Galliano boots kept his feet warm and dry. He did not mind the walk. However, as soon as he walked in the diner, his good humor left him. The fiddler was sitting in ‘his’ seat at the counter and in the second to last booth was his favorite Vangard colleague, eating what looked like a Caesar salad. There was absolutely no way in hell Brian was staying for lunch.

Interestingly enough, Justin, whose shift had been over for a good ten minutes, was still refreshing people’s coffee at the front of the diner. He made eye contact with Brian with a look that conveyed both worry and disappointment.

“Oh hi, Brian. Your take-out order is ready,” he said. Smart boy. He’d obviously known Brian was not going to sit and have lunch with him in the present company. “I made it myself…” added Justin, in a soft voice.

Brian raised an eyebrow, but waited by the cash register for Justin to bring him a white bag containing a Styrofoam box. “Turkey on whole wheat, extra veggies, no mayo,” said Justin. Brian paid without arguing and left the diner. Back at the office, he sat on his couch and got out his lunch. At the bottom of the bag was a handful of napkins, and on the side a large Styrofoam container of fresh coffee.

He opened the box with his sandwich and grinned. Justin was making sure he ate his vegetables. There were tomato slices, lettuce leaves, cucumber slices, and even a couple of thinly sliced onion rounds on top of the turkey… Inside the lid of the box, in big letters was written: “I still would like to chat with you over lunch… Call me?” Followed by Justin’s cell phone number.

Pleased, Brian chuckled and dialed. Justin answered on the first ring. “Brian! I’m so glad you called…”

“Are you still at the diner?”

“Hell no! I got out of there as soon as you left. Brandon and Ethan? One of them at a time is bad enough, but the two of them in the same room, at the same time and me without my rubber boots to wade through their bullshit? No… I’m back across the street in my room. I would have invited you to have lunch with me there, except that my desk is covered with art supplies and I only have the one stool. I’m eating sitting on my bed and I was pretty sure that, unlike Ethan, you would not think of it as romantic…”

Brian laughed. “No, you’re probably right. So to what do you assign your sudden popularity?”

“Ethan wormed my hours out of me and it turns out he cannot comprehend why I would not want to spend every free minute I have in his stellar company, even though we have never so much as kissed. Arrogant prick…” Justin chuckled. “And Brandon is just tightening the noose. I see him Mondays and Wednesdays at the hospice. He’s been hinting he would like for us to spend time together outside our work hours and he knows approximately what time my shifts ends, since he’s been picking me up.”

“Are you going to let him know that you are aware his dedication to volunteering is directly related to his attraction to your gorgeous ass?” asked Brian, curious.

“Nah… The hospice really needs the manpower.” Brian could hear the grin in his voice. Poor Brandon. Brian liked this devious Justin… “Plus I’m interested to see how he goes about trying to seduce me. Though I know it’s all bullshit, I must admit it is nice to have such a hunk pretending to only have eyes for me… And who knows, I might learn a thing or two about how to be a gay man from watching his moves… Do you really think my ass is gorgeous?”

Brian chose to ignore the last question. What moves of Brandon’s was Justin wanting to learn exactly? And there had been that crack this morning about not wanting to die a virgin… Did that mean that Justin no longer wanted to wait until he met Mr. Right?

“Have you changed your mind about sex and love being irrevocably linked?” he asked, not sure how he felt about that.

There was a moment of silence before Sunshine answered. “No, I haven’t, though I can accept that what’s true for me may not be true for others. I don’t think I could just do what you do and go to the backroom to fuck some guy whose name I don’t even know. But now that I don’t live solely in the heterosexual world anymore and that most of the people I hang out with are gay, I am starting to understand that there are some essential differences between the way straight guys and homosexual guys view sex, and that it’s OK.” He let out a shy giggle. “I don’t feel bad anymore when I’m in the diner, serving guys, and thinking, 'I’d fuck him… I’d love to fuck him… Oooh, I want to fuck him…' I have no intention of acting on it, obviously, but I don’t feel guilty about it either…”

“But you’re not going to go for what Brandon has to offer?” Brian just wanted Sunshine to be really clear on that, for some reason.

“You mean losing my virginity to an experienced homosexual, who also happens to be gorgeous but doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me beyond how attractive he thinks my ass is? That would be a definiteNO."

Again there was a short moment of silence. "Brian, I may not be saving myself for marriage, but I will be in love with the first man that takes me to bed. And even if it’s not true love on his side... I want him to at least genuinely care about me.”

I care about you, thought Brian. He gave himself a mental slap. Justin was a friend. Part of his kooky family. Not a possibility. Images of Sunshine dancing at Babylon, of his silken skin, of his tempting lips, of what his tight pants had revealed about what was to be found under them, back and front, popped up unsolicited in his mind… He quickly changed the subject.

“I bought a frame for the drawings you gave me, Justin. They look really nice.” It was an antique filigree silver frame, with a hinge in the middle, at odds enough with his modern décor to accent it perfectly.

“You did? Cool! Where did you put it?”

“On my desk at work.” Brian reached for it, and as he did every time he looked at it, he felt inexplicable warmth in his chest. “I don’t have a recent photo of Gus, so it’s perfect. I… It’s really… Thank you again, Justin.”

The sketches meant a lot to Brian. It was Gus, so obviously they would be special, but it was also the fact that Justin had given it to Brian with no other goal but to please him and that… Well, that was a completely new and unique experience. One which made Brian feel really, really… good. Brian refused to dwell on what that revealed about his life. He moved the conversation into a more comfortable area.

“Do you do a lot of portraits?”

“No. Not really. Sometimes, when I see an interesting subject I do, but mostly I draw landscapes or still-lifes. When I paint, it’s always abstract.”

“You could probably make a lot of money doing portraits like Gus’ for people.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m glad you gave me this one as a gift, but I would have gladly paid at least $100.00 bucks for it otherwise.”

“Hmm… That’s something to think about, though I don’t know where I would find buyers…”

“You could draw portraits of a couple famous people, hang them in the diner, and put a sign up. Fags would line up to get their own pictures or ones of their boyfriends done. Believe me.”

“You think so? For a hundred dollars?”

“I know so. Starting with our own friends. I know Mikey and Ben would love portraits of each other, as would Ted and Blake.”

“It sounds good, but I don’t know when I’d do it. Between school, work and the hospice, I just don’t have much time. Gus’ portrait took me several hours…”

Brian rolled in his lips. He saw Justin in his mind, sitting next to Gus’s bed, and then at home, in his apartment over the tattoo parlor, working on Brian’s drawings, spending several of his precious few hours of leisure time on a gift for him. Again, that warmth in his chest…

Anyway, he was hopeful Justin wouldn’t have to spend so many hours volunteering at the Vic Grassi house soon, but he could not mention that.

There was a knock on the door, and Cynthia walked in. “Your one o’clock will be here in a few minutes, Brian…”

“Sunshine? I have to go. I have an appointment at one.”

“OK. …Thanks for calling, Brian,” said Justin.

“Well, you were right yesterday, Sunshine. I... I do like having lunch with you.” Oh, for fuck’s sake! What next? Buying the kid roses? Brian must be growing a twat. “I enjoy talking to you.” He clamped his stupid mouth shut. Fuck. That was it. He might as well call Chris Van Horn for make-up tips. He was officially a girl.

“…Thanks.”

Brian could hear the smile in Justin’s voice and suddenly didn’t give a shit about how lesbianic he had sounded. Then he remembered: wasn’t he supposed to try to nip the boy’s crush in the bud? Fuck!

“Oh,” said Justin, “by the way, Ethan will not be going with us for the King of Babylon Contest. He actually rolled his eyes at me, like it was entirely too juvenile for someone of his intellectual superiority. Pretentious ass…”

Brian had to laugh. Poor Ethan was wasting his time chasing after Justin. The boy had his number… And he had Brandon’s number. Brian smiled to himself.

“Later, Sunshine.”

“Later.”