An ad exec's job is never done

Justin woke up with his cock deep in Brian’s mouth. He could definitely get used to this. He loved the way Brian suckled on the head for a while then plunged down so it hit the back of his throat. It was fantastic because Brian seemed to derive such enjoyment from it.

There it was again, Brian’s lips tight just below the rim of his glans, suckling deliciously, making Justin keen in pleasure. God, it felt fantastic. Oh god, and now the long slide down, the soft hit at the back and the further slide, snug and tight down his throat, taking in his whole length. Heaven. He knew from experience how long Brian could keep this up, keeping him mewling in a complete state of bliss.

The next time Brian pulled back up he spun his body around and got them both on their sides, so he too could enjoy an early morning treat. Also, that way, he might distract Brian enough to break his rhythm and come before completely losing his mind.

The challenge for those giving Justin head was the size of his glans, which completely blocked their airways as soon as they took him in a little. The challenge with Brian was his length coupled as it was with a non-negligible girth. He had a gorgeous cock really. Justin loved to tease his slit with the tip of his tongue, collecting the precome oozing from it. He loved using the flat of his tongue to massage the spot just below the rim that he instinctively knew was a source of delight.

And he loved that his throat was the perfect size for Brian’s cock to just slide right in, without ever activating his gag reflex or completely blocking his airways. He was able to keep him down his throat and play, as long as he kept his breaths short and shallow. He could run his tongue up and down the vein, or flick it at the base, humming, swallowing around Brian, overwhelming him in sensations.

And here came his reward. The flicking/humming was distracting Brian who had stilled his motions and was now sucking avidly at the top half of Justin’s length held between his tongue and his palate, forgetting his heavenly game of suckle and slide, and Justin’s pleasure was mounting, mounting, cresting… and he moaned loudly as he spilled his come in warm jets into Brian’s mouth.

Whether it was his moan itself, or it’s vibration along the cock deep in Justin’s throat, he wasn’t sure, but he felt Brian’s release, spurting deep beyond his tongue, so far down his throat he did not even taste it. As Brian was licking the head of his cock like a zealous feline, sending shivers down his whole body, he let him soften deep in his throat, swallowing again and again around the spent head. Finally, they let each other go and made their way back to the head of the bed, sharing a king size pillow, smiling at each other.

“Now, I’ve got something to go to confession for,” said Brian.

“Oh, because you didn’t before?” said Justin, laughing.

“No. God and I have an understanding. I start every day with a clean slate. Saves us both time…”

“How convenient. For the both of you.”

“I can see if I can cut you in on the deal, if you’d like…” Brian smirked.

“No need. WASP here. No confession.”

“What a shame. You never get the joy of giving the priest a hard on…”

“How do you know your priest is not straight and totally appalled?”

“I fucked him.”

“WHAT?”

“Fucked him. From behind, on all fours, in the baths.”

Brian looked so evilly mischievous, Justin started laughing and couldn’t stop, especially once Brian started tickling his ribs. Then Brian kissed him on the nose, on the cheeks, and finally on the mouth, playfully, until it turned into their kiss, and Justin wanted Brian to fuck him, right now.

Brian was already reaching for the lube, and as if as an afterthought, for a condom, rolling it on, lubing it generously. Looking at Justin, his eyes warm, he put Justin’s ankles on his shoulders and slid in, slowly, his left hand caressing Justin’s chest, his stomach, his thigh.

Justin just opened up to accept him, like he did when they kissed, thinking of how much he wanted him and loved him, and when Brian was fully in, he let his muscles close back around him, holding him tight.

“God, oh God, Justin…”

Brian started to move, and to Justin it felt wonderful to have him inside, filling him, and to watch him close his eyes, his mouth slightly open, taken away by the pleasure of moving inside him. He was so beautiful when he fucked, so graceful in his motions.

Brian lowered himself onto Justin, found his mouth and pushed his tongue in and out in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Justin’s rational mind shut down as pleasure submerged him, from the cock deep inside him, massaging his prostate, from his own cock, sliding between their sweaty bodies, from Brian’s weight on him like a protective shield, pulling at the ring on his nipple, from Brian’s lips on his, his tongue in his mouth, from Brian’s hands in his hair, groping him lightly, from the feel of Brian’s skin, smooth and warm under his hands… Justin came keening in bliss, nothing left of him but pleasure, feeling Brian’s body tense and release, again and again, to the rhythm of his own orgasm.

Brian pulled out ever so gently and lowered Justin’s legs, massaging them lovingly. He tied off the condom and threw it, with amazing accuracy, into the trash bin, and laid leaning on his elbow above Justin, playing with his hair, kissing him lightly on the lips, smiling. He sighed.

“I need to get ready. I’ve got to pick up the flowers I ordered. What are you doing today?”

“Daphne is coming here. We’re going to swim and we have appointments at the spa. I’ll have my phone with me. Call me when you get back from church. I wasn’t kidding about having fantasies of blowing you in your Armani suit.” Justin smiled at Brian. Right now, he felt completely sated, but he knew that in a couple of hours, the sight of Brian in his suit would definitely have an effect on him.

“You’re on, Sunshine. I’m having lunch with Mikey, but then I’m going to drop by and see Gus. You want to come?”

“Yes, I’d love to. I’ll bring my sketchbook. I want to draw the two of you together.”

Brian smiled. “That would be nice.”

They got up and showered. Before Brian, Justin had never showered with anyone else. He found that he really liked it. He watched Brian shave. That man looked sexy no matter what he was doing. At 22, his own cheeks were still as smooth as ever. His mom was a quarter Cherokee so he’d never have to bother.

In his deep blue Armani suit, his crisp white shirt, his gorgeous Hermes tie, with his Dior overcoat and scarf and leather gloves, Brian would definitely be the handsomest man in church. They left the suite together, Justin wearing one of the hotel’s white terrycloth robes over his togs.

His first appointment, at 9:30, was for a wax. Daphne was due at ten. He had scheduled it that way because ‘Which part of your body are you getting waxed?’ was one conversation they were definitely not going to have. He’d had enough talk about his dick and his sex life with her to last him for a while, thank you.

The elevator had picked up a handful of other people by the time it reached the Spa and pool floor, and Justin smiled at Brian saying, “Later,” before stepping out. The doors were closing when Brian stopped them from the inside, and stepped forward, blocking the sensor and catching Justin by the sleeve. He pulled Justin back against him and kissed his lips, his hand behind his head, before stepping back in again and answering, “Later.” Justin had a smile on his face all the way to the spa.

At a quarter to twelve, as he was just finishing his pedicure, his phone rang. It was Brian’s number.

“Taylor, would you come up to my office, please?”

Justin smiled. Nice. “Yes, Mr. Kinney. I’ll be right up.”

Justin was glad to be alone in the elevator this time, because he was grinning like a loon. He knocked on the door of the suite.

“Yes.”

Justin walked in and dropped his robe. His wet speedo was in the pocket and he had not been wearing anything else. Brian was sitting behind the desk, but got up when Justin entered and came to lean against the front of it, arms crossed. His pants were seriously tented.

“You wanted me, Mr. Kinney?” asked Justin, as he dropped to his knees. Brian undid his belt and unzipped his pants. He was not wearing any underwear and his erection popped free as his pants dropped around his ankles. Justin gave him the most angelic look he could muster and swallowed him.

Brian moaned, and his hands came to play with Justin’s hair, as Justin did all the things he did so well to drive the man insane. Then he took a long breath and started moving deeply and quickly, fucking his throat with Brian’s cock. He put his hands on Brian’s, signaling for him to take control. Brian held his head and thrust a couple of times down his throat and asked, “Is this what you want?” Justin nodded.

“Oh, God, Justin…” and Brian started fucking his throat in earnest. Justin closed his eyes and concentrated on his breath and on relaxing his throat to let Brian slide in and out smoothly. He knew from experience that fucking someone’s mouth was immensely pleasurable, but always accompanied by a feeling of guilt for using another person in such a way. On the other hand, that slightly forbidden side made it all the more arousing. He could just imagine how conflicted Brian must feel doing this to him, and at the same time could tell how turned on he was. Brian did not last long.

“Justin, here I come, here I come…” Some spunk went down his throat, some he swallowed, but he kept the last spurt on his tongue, and when, predictably, Brian fell to his knees and kissed him passionately, they shared it with each other.

Brian held him close and asked, “Did I hurt you?”

Justin backed away from him enough so he could see his smile and said, “Of course not. Did you like it?”

Brian laughed. “God, Justin, I'll let you blow me while I wear a suit anytime.“

Justin laughed as well, his joy at having surprised and brought pleasure to Brian bubbling to the surface.

Brian caressed his face. “I love it when you laugh,” he said, warmth in his eyes, leaning down to kiss him again. Though Justin was still hard, and more than willing, he forced himself to be the voice of reason. Before anything more could happen, he got to his feet, and said, ”I’m going to be late for my exfoliation, and you are meeting Michael for lunch… ten minutes ago.”

Justin put his robe back on and started for the door.

“I’ll tell him it was all your fault,” said Brian with a smirk, walking him out.

“And he’ll believe you, I’m sure,” said Justin, grinning.

“He can be amazingly gullible…” Brian gave Justin a light kiss. “Later.”

“Later.”

*****

At 2:30, Justin was back in the room. Daphne and he were all spa-ed out. How much time could one spend being beautified? They had spent quite a bit of money, and had agreed it was worth it once but that they couldn’t imagine making a habit of it. The beautician responsible for Justin’s cleansing facial had actually looked at him under her bright light and laughed, convincing him to switch to a pressure point facial massage, since he had completely flawless skin.

Daphne had gone home to nap and Justin, dressed to go see Gus, was thinking of doing the same when Brian walked in. He was speaking on the phone, in a calm, contained voice that spelled nothing good. He dropped a kiss on Justin’s forehead and sat behind the desk, listening and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He opened his laptop and after a few minutes of typing with his phone wedged against his shoulder, he said: “I can be on the 3:45, be there at 5:15, and come straight in.”

Justin got up from the bed, removed Brian’s bag from the closet and started packing for him, leaving out his suit. Brian, noticing, started to strip out of his casual clothing, still mostly listening, putting in a “Brian here. Don’t cancel it yet. Ask to have till… midnight. If we have nothing by then, cancel it.” A conference call then.

Justin went to the bathroom and reassembled Brian’s kit, zipping it up. He checked the room carefully then moved to the bedroom. He collected and wound the phone charger, the palm pilot charger, and found a tie, deep under the bed. He removed the Gucci ankle boots from their flannel bags and removed the shoetrees, packing them in the suitcase. He collected condoms, lube, extra cash and credit cards from the bedside drawer and put them with the chargers on the desk in front of Brian, next to his small carry-on.

Brian used the hotel pad and pencil to write him a note. It said: “Please come back with me.”

Justin stepped into the bathroom, dialed Daphne and woke her up. “Daphne? Brian has an emergency at work. He’s leaving, and wants me to go with him.”

“What is it?”

“No idea. He's still on the phone. Can you pack for me? We need to pick up my stuff on the way to the airport.”

“Does he want you for company or does he need you at work?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll put your undertaker clothes in your messenger bag, in case you need to change on the plane.”

“Thanks, Daph. Don’t forget the charger under your bed, ok?”

“Got it. It’s in. Are you coming back, you think?”

“No idea. Sorry.”

“Hey, at least, whatever the occasion is, you can be sure you are at your Maximum Beauty Potential,” she said, quoting the Spa lady’s spiel.

Justin burst out laughing.

“Love you, Daph.”

“You better. I hate packing.”

Justin went back into the bedroom just as Brian was hanging up the phone. He was wearing his suit. He looked at Justin, at his packed suitcase by the door, at his carry on open on the desk with all his miscellaneous items ready to go in and took Justin in his arms.

“Are you coming?”

“Daphne is packing for me. We just have to pick up my bag.”

Brian smiled at him and kissed his lips softly. “Thanks. We’ve got to go. I’ll explain in the car.”

They had hardly sat down in the Corvette when Brian’s phone rang again and a new conversation started, once again in the awkward rhythm of at least a three-way call.

“Brian. On my way. Continental flight 29. Yeah…”

Justin opened his phone and called Lindz and Mel’s house. They lived pretty close to the airport.

“Melanie Marcus.”

He remembered Lindsay was working that afternoon. “Mel, it’s Justin.”

“Oh, good! Gus is so excited…”

“Mel, Brian has an emergency at work. We’re on our way to the airport.”

“God dammit! He can’t do this. Gus has been looking forward to his visit all day! Can’t he ever put his son first?”

“Mel, it sounds pretty dire. I’m going as well, and I don’t even know what’s going on. Believe me. If he could stay, he would.”

“Maybe this time he has a good excuse, but what about all the other times? He is such a prick… Why does he have you calling, that spineless piece of shit?”

“He’s still on the phone to New York. I… I was hoping you could meet us at the airport so we can say goodbye to Gus…”

“Oh, Justin. I’m sorry. Why am I bitching at you? When is your flight?”

“Continental 29, at 3:45.”

“Holy shit. We got to hurry. Meet you there.”

“Thanks, Mel.” But she’d already hung up.

Brian was on the phone with his car storage, to arrange for the pick up of the Corvette at the airport. After hanging up, he looked at Justin and said painfully: “Now I have to call Gus. Shit.” He banged the wheel. “Shit,” and started dialing.

Justin stopped him. “Mel’s meeting us with him at the airport so you can say goodbye.”

“She is?” Brian looked stunned.

”Yeah. I called her. She’ll be there.”

Brian looked at him for a few seconds, before concentrating again on the road. He reached across and pulled Justin against his side.

“Sunshine, how did I ever get along without you?”

“Beats me,” said Justin, smiling.

They stopped at Daphne’s. Because she was amazing, she was waiting on the sidewalk with his packed bags. She was eating a Klondike bar.

Justin jumped out. “Not cold enough for you?” he teased, putting his bags in the trunk.

“They were on sale.” She shrugged, and took another bite of the frozen treat.

“I owe you, Daph.”

She smiled. “No. I now own that painting above my fireplace.”

“You already did, you goose.”

She leaned to look into the car.

“Bye, Brian.”

“Bye, Daphne.”

She straightened up. “Gosh. He really is gorgeous.”

Justin grinned. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” And they were gone.

Mel and the children were at the Continental check-in counter, and Gus ran into his father’s arms.

“Why do you have to go, Daddy?” he asked, his arms tight around Brian’s neck, tears threatening. Brian rolled in his lips, and Justin saw him make a decision.

“I’ll be back next Friday, Sonny boy. I promise.”

“Is that a long time, Daddy?”

“Five nights. Can you count to five?”

“I’m five. One, two, three, four, five.”

“Count them. To five, and I’ll be back. And whatever you wanted to do today, we will do then.”

“I wanted to build the tracks and play Thomas the train with you,” said Gus, his voice shaking a little.

“Do I get to be Thomas this time?”

“No, Daddy. You’re Percy.”

“All right. I’ll be Percy, and Justin will draw a picture of us, OK?”

“My Jutsin is coming back too?” Brian looked at Justin, who had gotten the boarding passes out of the machine, unsure suddenly.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Gus.”

“I love you, Daddy”

“I love you too, Sonnyboy.”

Gus reached for Justin.

“I love you, Jutsin.”

“I love you, Gus,” Justin said, and he handed him a drawing he had pulled out of his sketchbook. It was Brian in his camel coat, a small smile on his lips.

Gus looked at it intently then at Justin. “That’s a good one, Jutsin. It looks just like Daddy.”

Their flight was called for the second time. They had to go. As they were saying goodbye to Mel, Justin heard her say to Brian, “If you don’t show up, I’ll cut your balls off.”

“Thanks, and you have a nice drive home, Mel,” Brian answered. “Bye, Sonnyboy.” He ruffled his son’s hair one last time and walked away.

“Bye,” said Justin. “Thank you so much, Mel. See you Friday.”

They walked right on board and settled in first class seats.

“You do know I can’t afford this, right?” asked Justin.

“It’s a business expense, Sunshine. I’m bringing you in as the new Assistant Creative Director. I have a meeting with the guys and the legal department as soon as we get there, then at eight, we’re meeting with Clearlife’s rep.”

“The nutritional supplements stores?”

“Yes. Plexus’ first really big national campaign, which is starting on the first, during the Rose Bowl.”

“The campaign Sam has been working on with you?”

”Yes. The campaign we have been working on for six months, with the rising male skating star, Joshua Raines, the prick who, yesterday, decided to beat his wife so severely that she is in a coma at Columbia Teaching Hospital.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“She’s 23 years old, and was seven months pregnant. That son of a bitch…” Brian’s fists were tight, his knuckles white. He was livid. He took a deep breath and turned to Justin. “She is an ice skater too, a little thing, hardly five feet tall. He’s six foot three.” Brian looked sick.

He took another deep breath. “Obviously, we have to scrap the campaign. We have till midnight to brainstorm and find a replacement campaign we can put together in three days. At midnight, they are canceling the air time, and Plexus loses half a million dollar investment.”

“Can it be done?”

Brian rolled in his lips and didn't answer. That was not a good sign. He got out his laptop and said: “This is the thirty second spot.”

Justin had never seen it. It had been finished early in his internship, and was hush-hush, the spot and the spokesperson to be uncovered only during the Rose Bowl. Brian handed him his small headphones, and Justin plugged them in.

It was very, very good, showing Raines doing the same moves alternatively while training and while skating in some event. He was brilliant. It showed him laughing, working out, the tone of the spot exciting, hopeful. Raines was hot. Tall, a great smile, gifted. The slogan was, “Let your dream come alive.”

His career was over. His marriage was over. His wife’s life might be over, their hope for a child over. What a fucking waste. It was hard to reconcile the smiling handsome athlete with the knowledge that he had beaten a woman half his size to within an inch of her life.

Brian closed his laptop, and rubbed his hands over his face. “We are fucked. The only positive thing is that nothing associates Raines with the product. The secrecy clause was strictly enforced at Plexus, and thank god, at Clearlife as well. We are also lucky the idea of using Raines came from Max Pontif, their CEO. We all thought it was a brilliant choice, though. The guy had everything you could want: a rising star, great looks, that killer smile, a possible contender for both the Olympics and the world championships. I met him. Nice, friendly guy. His wife w…is a doll. Sweet. Cute.”

“What are the chances of finding someone to replace him in the next day or so?”

“Nil. All the skaters are at the Olympics, they all have agents. Contract negotiations alone can take weeks.”

“What about a different sport?”

“Can’t use any team sport. The negotiations are even more complicated for individual members of a team.”

“Tennis? Fencing? Biking?”

“Tennis players have agents from birth, it seems. You have to negotiate with all their other sponsors. Fencing is too unknown, biking not sexy enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“They do nothing but bike, it’s hard to make it exciting, attractive. It just looks like really hard work.”

Justin realized they had not just pulled skating out of a hat. Months of preliminary studies had probably gone into picking the right sport, the right athlete.

He thought of Raines, tall, strong, masculine yet graceful, elegant, charming, individualistic, successful yet still mostly unknown. He thought of skating, perfection made to look effortless, grace, speed and excitement.

He reached into his messenger bag for his portfolio, found the folder he wanted and pulled two drawings out of it, which he passed to Brian. Brian stared at the first one, astonishment on his face. He looked at Justin, who just nodded, smiling a little. Brian looked at the second drawing, deep in thought.

Brian picked up the phone on the back of the seat in front of him, ran his credit card through and dialed, pressing extra digits as the phones were answered.

“Alan?... Paul?... Marcus? I may have something… No. I’m still in the air. Another hour. I need you to check something… Yes. Do ballet dancers have agents? Sponsors?... Marcus, are you sure?... Don’t fucking guess! Call her! … I know it’s Sunday. Who gives a shit?... Yes, I have someone in mind… I have no idea… Yes Marcus… You’re positive? Great. … Tall, gifted, gorgeous, great smile… no, no, very masculine… Yes. I’m calling him now. I’ll call you back.”

Brian turned to Justin.

“Is he any good?”

“First Dancer of the Pittsburgh Ballet Company. He leads the gold cast.”

Brian looked at him, quiet for a moment, and then seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought he had been following.

“Ballet dancers are not big commercially. According to Marcus, they usually do not have agents or sponsors unless they are world renowned,” he said. He started thinking out loud. “We could keep the basic script, the training moves alternating with the same moves on stage, dancing in a show, working out, even the same theme, the same music, the same basic interview… Do you think he’ll go for it?”

“No idea. He’s dancing tonight though. Do you still have contacts in Pittsburgh? Could they get footage? The Nutcracker is really seasonal…”

“But will he do it?”

Justin shrugged. “Call him.”

Brian was staring at him.

“Brian, I don’t even know if I’m going to be working for Plexus, and I won’t … I know how he feels about me. You know how he feels about me. I’m not using that. I’m not using him. Your campaign, your call.”

Brian nodded and Justin handed him his cell phone with Brandon’s number showing. Brian dialed, holding the phone far enough from his ear that Justin could hear.

“Brandon.”

“…Brandon, Hi. Brian Kinney here.”

“Brian. Is Justin all right?”

“Justin’s great. We are on our way back to New York because I have a problem at work. I'm an advertising executive for a small firm.”

“Yeah. I know. Justin talked to me about his internship. Sounds interesting, but really stressful.”

“Yes, well… the spokesman for one of the products we represent…is no longer available and we need an emergency replacement.”

There was a questioning silence on the line, as Brandon obviously waited for Brian to explain why he should care.

“Brandon, would you be available and agreeable to filming a 30 second commercial spot in the next three days?”

“What?”

“We need to have this spot ready for the Rose Bowl. We have the script, the music, the basic theme; we need an athlete as a spokesperson. We think you would fit the bill.”

“I’m a ballet dancer, Brian. Nobody thinks of us as athletes. What was your original guy’s sport?”

“Ice skating.”

“They all have agents.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t”

“Exactly.”

“Can I speak to Justin?”

“Hold on.” Brian handed Justin the phone.

“Brandon?”

“Is he serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Brandon laughed. “I bet. They’re so fucked.”

Justin laughed as well. Brandon was no dummy. He repeated out loud, for Brian’s benefit, “Yes, they are completely fucked.”

“Justin, as a friend, do you think I should do it?”

“Could it hurt your career, hurt your position in Pittsburgh? They probably would try to use footage from tonight’s performance, if it was allowed.”

“I think they’d be thrilled by the exposure. I could always use the cash. I’d need help negotiating, though, and the guy who parleyed my original contract here sucked. I’ve renegotiated for myself the last three years.”

“I may know somebody who really kicks ass.”

“They’d have to replace me without cause tomorrow. I’d be fined. No biggy, it happens, but it’s a little steep.”

“You could get them to cover that.”

“It sounds kind of fun.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

“Will you take me out to Essengy?”

“My boyfriend and I would be happy to take you to Essengy for New Years Eve.”

Brandon laughed. “Great. Always wanted to be a third wheel.”

“The only unattached member of the hottest trio there…”

“Hmmm… You sure know how to present things in a good light. You should work in advertising.” They cracked up.

“I don’t think it would hurt my career. I’d have to kiss my anonymity at the club goodbye though. Everybody would know what I do.”

“They will make it look hot.”

“Can you get in touch with the person you know for the negotiating?”

“Yes.”

“You think he’ll do it?”

“She. Not sure. I can call now and find out.”

“Call me back?”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

“OK.”

Justin hung up, and found Jessica Hammon’s number in his cell phone.

Brian was the one with the bottomless business credit card.

“Could you dial that for me, please?” Justin asked.

Brian did, without comment, and handed Justin the phone. Jessica answered after two rings.

“Mrs Hammon? It’s Justin.”

“Hello, love. Surely if I call you love you can call me Jessica, no?”

“Jessica. How bored are you right now?”

“Dreadfully. 300 channels and nothing to watch, too cold to go out, and no contracts to negotiate for lovely young men.” She laughed. “If I hear one more person wishing me a Merry Christmas, I might commit murder and defend myself, just for a change of pace… What do you have in mind Justin? Please tell me you are calling to confide in me the intimate details of your one-night stand with the ridiculously handsome Brian Kinney. My imagination has gone wild…”

“Sorry, Jessica, I don’t kiss and tell,” Justin answered, laughing.

“But you are a couple now, are you not?”

“How do you know that?” asked Justin, astonished.

“I paid him a visit. The poor man was so taken with you, he didn’t know which way was up…”

Justin looked at Brian, wondering how that had come about. Then he remembered why he was calling.

“Speaking of negotiating contracts for lovely young men. A friend of mine needs expert help, as soon as possible.”

She laughed and asked jokingly, “How lovely?”

“Unbelievably so. In Brian’s league.”

“Oh, my! “ She laughed. “I’ll do it! No, Seriously, what sort of contract?”

“He is a ballet dancer. Brian’s company wishes to hire him for a commercial. They are in a time crunch, it all has to be done in the next 72 hours.”

“A bit out of my normal field, but they don’t know that. I feel a sudden urge to take tea with Mr. Kinney’s beautiful assistant. Would you know her number, perchance?”

“Hold on.”

“Brian, could you give me Cynthia’s number? Mrs Hammon wants to invite her to a tea party.”

Brian wrote on his palm pilot screen and passed it to Justin.

Conflict of interest. You don’t work for Plexus yet, but she does.

Justin wrote back.

Brian, it’s just tea. I think you can trust Jessica Hammon to know the law. Do you want Brandon or not?

Brian handed the palm pilot back, showing Cynthia’s number.

“Jessica, I’ve got it.” He read it to her.

“Is Mr. Kinney worried about conflict of interest?”

“You have ESP, don’t you…?”

“A false rumor, Justin. Don’t go believing such slander on my good character. And remind our handsome friend that I was practicing law before he was born, and not to worry. What is the alleged lovely young man’s name?”

“Brandon.”

“Yes, of course it is. Why burden oneself with a last name? After all, Cher has done all right for herself.”

Justin laughed. “I’m sure he has one. I just don’t know it.”

Brian passed him his palm pilot again. It read, Brandon Matthew Bloomquist

“Uh… Jessica? Apparently, he does have a last name, and a middle name. Brandon Matthew Bloomquist.”

“Thank Mr. Kinney, will you? Now give me his number, and we are all set.”

Justin complied.

“Thank you, Jessica.”

“You owe me a painting. I am joking, of course. But the young man had better be handsome, or I am never taking your calls again.”

Justin loved her laughter. He was quite sure Brandon would be handsome enough… They said goodbye, and Justin hung up. He was burning to ask Brian how he knew Brandon’s last name, but wanted to deal with the matter at hand first.

“Brian, would you mind dialing Brandon again?”

“I live to serve,” answered Brian, dialing. He handed Justin the phone. “Anything else, sir?”

“Well, you could blow me while I… Brandon? Hey. She’ll do it. She has your number. Her name is Jessica Hammon.”

“OK. What the hell. I’ll do it. Can you put Kinney on?”

Justin handed Brian the phone.

“Brandon?” Once again Brian let Justin hear the conversation, apparently not having minded Justin’s keeping his calls private.

“Brian? Ok, I’m in. I talked to the director of the company, asked him if they would mind a crew filming during a performance for a potential commercial. They’re chuffed, like I thought. They just want credit, you know, thank you to the Pittsburgh Ballet Company for their generous participation kind of thing.”

“Hey, thanks. That was very helpful of you. Really. Thank you.”

“You are welcome. You better get that filming crew in place ASAP. The Nutcracker waits for no man. Let me give you the number for the stage manager. He knows they are going to be calling.” Brian wrote it down.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Just give up your boyfriend, and we’re even, Kinney.”

“In your dreams, Bloomquist”

Brandon laughed. “Been checking up on me?”

“Maybe.”

Brandon laughed again. “Get your film crew going.”

“Will do.” And Brian hung up.

He reached for Justin playfully and kissed him, smiling and then dialed the phone again.

“Cynthia!”

“Brian!”

“I need you.”

“Color me surprised. What’s in it for me?”

“An extra bonus or me eating crow. You choose.”

“I’ll take both, but start with the crow. I could use a laugh.”

“I removed my head from my ass and admitted to being smitten with young Mr. Taylor, with whom I now have entered into a relationship.“

The line was completely silent. “…Cynthia? Cynthia, are you there?”

“Oh my God. Forget the extra bonus. That was worth its weight in gold. What do you want?”

“I need you to revive your erstwhile contacts and get a camera crew to film tonight’s performance of The Nutcracker by the Pittsburgh Ballet Company, concentrating very heavily on the male lead.”

“Did you say TONIGHT’S?”

“Yes. Here is the stage manager's number. He's expecting their call.”

“The extra bonus is back on. Will do. Got to go. Got a Master to serve. A Master who is dating a cute little blond.” She giggled. “I laugh, but it’s out of love…” She hung up.

Justin grinned at Brian. “Smitten?”

Brian pulled him into a kiss. “Completely.”

The captain was announcing their descent. Brian had one more call to make, to his partners, once again.

“Guys. Problem solved. The ballet dancer is on, the crew to film his performance tonight as good as set up, the contract negotiation in progress.”

He listened to their reaction, a little smirk on his face.

“Yes. Of course I’ll do it. It’s my account. I know it won’t be an easy sell. Alan, I know they will hate it… Oh, for pete’s sake, Marcus, how could I possibly have his portfolio? Is he a model? Did I even think of the guy before getting on this flight?... Paul, aside from telling me all the reasons why this will never fly with them, do you have anything helpful to say?... OK. Listen up, guys. I only have four words for you: Half a million dollars… I will sell them on the idea, they will accept the new concept and the campaign will be a fabulous success. End of conversation. NO, DO NOT cancel our early meeting. I need to speak to all of you and to Phil what’s-his-name from Legal first thing… Paul, I will still have an hour and a half to prepare … Of course it’s not enough! I need two days! Do I have two days? What the fuck difference is a half an hour going to make? Got to go, we’re landing. See you in 45 minutes.”

Brian took a deep breath and turned to Justin. He chuckled. “I swear these guys only have four balls amongst the three of them, and Alan has two of those.”

Justin looked at him, trying to read his face. “You’re not worried?”

Brian put his hand on Justin’s neck and played with the short hair there. He looked him in the eye and said, “Failure is not an option. By the time midnight rolls around, I will have them convinced the change of spokesperson is a blessing, and wondering how they could have ever considered anyone else but Brandon. You paint, he dances, I sell ideas. It’s my gift.

“Of course I’m worried. That Brandon will be a dud, that the filming will be shoddy, that the whole segment will look amateurish and just thrown together, because I have no control over these things. Am I worried they will not buy the idea? Hell no. I got you to fall in love with me, didn’t I?”

Justin laughed. “I did that on my own, and as I recall, you didn't care one way or the other at the time…”

Brian pulled him close, and told him softly: “Ah, Sunshine. That’s what I like you to think…” and then he kissed him, until Justin forgot momentarily what they’d even been talking about.

To be continued...