Truly, Madly, Deeply

It was 8:00 pm and Brian’s lover was sleeping. His body was warm and soft, nude under the duvet. One of his arms was under the pillow, the other one on his chest where minutes before it had held Brian’s next to his heart. His lips were slightly parted; his skin still had the dewy softness of childhood.

What the hell do you do when your lover goes to bed at eight on a Saturday night? You laugh at yourself and wonder how you can find it endearing. Brian picked up the phone and called Lindsay and Mel’s number.

“Petersen-Marcus residence.”

“Hey, Mel, it’s Brian.”

“Brian who?”

“Oh, haha…”

“Did somebody die?”

“I'm sure someone did, but not anyone I know. Can I talk to Gus?”

“He just came out of the bath. Lindz is putting his PJ's on. Can you wait a minute?”

“Sure. I need to speak to you anyway. I know you guys are coming in two months, but I was wondering if you could come for the weekend of Justin’s Gallery opening.”

“When is it?”

“The opening is Saturday the 27th, in the evening, at the Bryce Kindall gallery, a small place in The Village. But I was hoping you guys could come on Friday. I am going to try and get everybody here that night, and I want to surprise Justin with a special dinner. Really surprise him, as in, if anybody says anything, I will have them killed.”

“…Ok. Well, you better hope he doesn’t speak to Michael, then. You know how he is. The others should be able to keep their mouths shut. I hate to be this frank, but we just can’t afford it on our own. We’ll be there if you pay for the tickets and put us up, though. I know Lindz would be thrilled to be at the opening. Oh, and don’t tell your son, either. You can’t expect a 5 year old to keep a secret, you know?”

“The tickets and the hotel are on me. No problem. Can you talk to Lindz about it?”

“Of course.”

“Great.”

“Brian?”

“What?”

“… This is going to sound stupid, I’m sure, but… You just told me something important and asked me to tell Lindz. Since Christmas you’ve treated me… differently. Lindz’ equal as far as Gus is concerned. It’s really nice. Not so long ago you would have hung up and called back when you could talk to the people who really matter, instead of me. You’ve quit doing that. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“And I am sure you’ll understand when I pretend you never said anything because my stunted emotional development cannot handle this kind of sentimental bullshit, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” There was a smirk in her voice.

“That’s a relief.”

She chuckled. “Asshole”

“Cunt,” he answered, grinning.

“Well, I feel better now. Don’t you? Oh, here is Gus.”

Brian could hear her speak to her son. “Guess who’s on the phone?”

“I dunno. A girl or a boy?

“A boy. A boy you love more than any boy in the whole world.”

“No. That’s Daddy. I love Jutsin more than anyone in the whole world after Daddy.”

“It’s not Justin…”

“DADDY! DADDY YOU CALLED ME? YOU NEVER CALL ME! DADDY?”

“Yes, Sonnyboy, it’s Daddy.

“DADDY!”

(“Stop yelling, Gus, calm down!” said Mel in the background.”)

“It’s ok, Gus. I’m right here.”

“Oh, Daddy! You called!”

“Yes, son. How are you?”

“I’m good, even though Samantha has the measles and she sits next to me and I’m not sick or anything. And I can count to a hundred by ten, 0,10,20,30,40, 50,60,70,80,90,100. And we had endives for dinner and usually they are so yucky but Mamma said the hell with it and put ham and cheese sauce on them and they were good.”

Wow. Brian guessed it was his turn now. “I went to a birthday party and had cake,” he said, thinking that was something his son could relate to.

“Cool. What kind?”

“Chocolate with chocolate layers and chocolate icing.”

“Wow. That’s my favorite cake, with the white one with the carrots. Was it a girl or a boy?”

“A lady. She is seventy five.”

“Did she get any good stuff?”

“She got a little silver dancing bear, a painting from Justin, and I gave her flowers.”

“What color?”

“Pink. They smell good, too.”

“That’s good, Daddy. Ladies like flowers, and girls like pink best, and they like stuff that smells nice. I bet she was real happy.”

“I think so.”

“Mamma said she couldn’t believe you managed to send that sound of fish down the river. I don’t know what that means but she was real happy with you. I didn’t know fish made sounds, Daddy. What do they sound like?”

Brian had to smile. He had sent that son of a bitch Tuscan down the river. “It’s complicated, Gus. It was part of my work and what Mel meant was that I did a good job. Justin helped, and a bunch of other friends too. It’s an expression. There is really no fish.”

“Like ‘You’re pulling my leg’?”

“Right.”

Gus giggled. “I’m silly. I thought there was a fish, and you were in a river. There are fishing shows on TV. They’re really boring.”

“Yes. I think fishing shows are boring too.”

“And there are cooking shows too.” Gus laughed, “Boooring!”

“Yes. Very.”

“There is this show with a man with goofy hair, and he paints, and at first I thought that was boring but then I watched the whole thing and it was cool, even though he talked like he was in preschool with ‘a happy little tree’, and stuff. It made a cool picture, with a pink sky and a lake, even though he didn’t really paint a sky and water, you know? It was all tricks. Does Jutsin learn tricks like that at art school?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“I wish I could go to art school.”

“Maybe later you will.”

“Yes. I want to paint like Jutsin. Did the old lady like her painting?”

“She did.”

“I don’t want to be a fisherman. I have to go brush my teeth. It’s bedtime, and if I don’t cop rate, I lose my story. So I have to go now.”

“Ok, Sonnyboy. You should definitely cooperate with your Mom.”

Gus was upset all of a sudden. “Oh, Daddy, I forgot to tell you all the important stuff,” sniff, “I forgot to tell you about the hamster, and Nicki’s band-aid, and all that.” Sniff.

“Don’t cry, Sonnyboy. You’ll tell me next time.”

“You mean you’re going to call again?”

“Yes. I’m going to call again. I love you, Gus.”

“Oh, Daddy, I love you too! I love you so much!” Sniff.

“Good night, Gus.”

“Good night Daddy, I love you.”

“I love you too, son.”

“Brian?” It was Lindz.

“I’m sorry, Lindz. I didn’t mean to make him sad. Maybe it was a mistake to have called.”

“Brian, that boy is so happy right now, you have no idea. Thanks for calling him. It means so much to him. He loves it when Justin calls, but… Well, you’re his Daddy.”

“How often does Justin call?”

“Oh, about once a week, usually. But it’s the letters Justin sends that he loves, with the drawings of you. We put them in this scrapbook. They are so funny. I loved that cartoon where you forgot your pants. Gus was literally rolling on the floor crying, he was laughing so hard, and he was defending you the whole time: “My Daddy would NEVER forget his pants…” and then when it turned out to be a dream he was so proud. “See Mommy! He would not forget his pants. Oh! No! He forgot his SHIRT!!!” and he just about died laughing. He reread it about twenty times, cracking up every time…”

“I’ll try to call more often, Lindz.”

“Thanks Brian. He misses you.”

“I miss him too.”

He hung up.

Justin had taken it upon himself to keep Brian alive and present in his son’s mind. He had never pushed Brian to call Gus, rarely talked about him. He just kept in touch with the little boy, and sent him drawings of his Dad. And cartoons about dreams where Brian forgot his pants… Justin told Brian he loved him sometimes, but more than words, his actions showed it everyday.

Brian got up and went to look at the sleeping Justin in their bed. Brian loved him so fucking much. He looked like a child in that bed, but yesterday he had walked up and gotten in the face of a man with a baseball bat, like the one that had given him brain damage, to snatch it away and give it to Brian so he could defend himself…

At that moment, he wanted to make love to Justin so badly. He took off his wife beater, his sweats and his boxers, and grabbed a condom and the lube out of the drawer. He got into bed, and got close to Justin, kissing behind his ear. Warm, sleepy Justin. He kissed down his neck, to his shoulder, and back up again, loving Justin’s sweet citrusy smell.

“Hmmmm.”

“Shhh. Don’t wake up. I’m just going to make love to you…”

Brian smiled as Justin rubbed his bum on Brian’s erection. He put on the condom, put a lot of lube on it and slowly penetrated Justin, who arched his back with a sigh. It was like sliding home. This was where he belonged, where he wanted to be.

He held Justin tightly against him and started moving in and out of the warm tight nest where his dick was happiest, and it felt so fucking good, so fucking perfect, massaging his dick like nothing else did, his whole length squeezed tight in the sweet hole between the soft globes of that miraculously beautiful ass.

He brought a hand down to it so he could caress his ass cheeks as he fucked Justin, their roundness, their softness driving him wild, increasing his arousal. He put his fingers next to Justin’s hole, feeling his slick cock slide in and out so easily. He loved that ass. He was driven insane by that ass, and it was his, he could fuck it at anytime, fuck it soft, fuck it hard, fuck it until Justin screamed in pleasure.

He reached his slickened fingers around Justin’s body, and found Justin’s hand, already working his cock. He wrapped his hand around Justin’s to feel his movements. Justin was pumping his cock fast, two strokes for each thrust of Brian’s.

“Oh, yeah,” said Brian, “I can do that…” He moved his hips faster, matching Justin’s hand, and Justin moaned his approval beautifully especially when Brian changed angle and hit his prostate with every stroke.

“Are you going to come, Justin? Am I going to make you come? I love it when you come. You’re mine then… you belong to me.”

“Brian, Brian, Brian, it’s so good, so fucking good… I’m close…Come with me, I love you, I love your cock, I love you fucking me, I’m yours… I belong to you…”

Justin’s body trembled in warning and then his ass constricted in a fast shooting rhythm as his cock spurted jets of come. Brian, his fingers at the tip, felt the strength of each one as Justin came undone in his arms. Holding Justin tight so Justin would feel every one of his pulsing contractions, he whispered, “Here I come,” and growled in contentment as he shot his own come deep inside Justin’s body.

He pulled out slowly, hating to lose that connection, and took off the condom. Justin spun in his arms, looking wild. “Fuck me again, Brian, please, fuck me fuck me fuck me…”

He brought up his knees, and begged, “Come back inside of me, please, take me, I want you inside of me again, please, Brian…”

Fuck. Brian had never seen anything so hot. Justin’s cock was hardening again despite the fresh come on his belly. He got a new condom and put it on, and covered it in lube. Watching Justin’s face, he slid one of his long fingers in his ass. He was tight again, as if they had not just finished. He fucked him with his finger, turning it to catch his prostate. Justin closed his eyes, licking his lips and keening.

“You want me back, Justin? You want my cock back where my finger is?”

Justin panted. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes! Fuck me…” His eyes were glowing, his parted lips were moist. He looked at Brian. “I want you. Fuck me, fuck me, Please, Brian…”

Brian was fully hard. He paused himself at Justin’s entrance for a second, then pushed and with a grunt buried himself as far as he could go. Justin cried out and came, hard enough some spunk reached his chin.

“Holy shit, Justin…”

“Fuck me, Brian, please fuck me…”

Brian could not believe it. Justin had come twice, hard, in less than ten minutes and was begging for more. He picked up Justin’s legs and put his ankles on his shoulders. He bent down and kissed Justin’s mouth, devouring it as he fucked him deep and hard. Justin was mewling in his kiss with every stroke, raising his ass to meet his push, acting horny as all get out, his arms around Brian’s neck, answering with hungry kisses of his own.

Brian could feel Justin’s spunk covered cock slip and slide between their bodies, hard again. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensations. It felt so good. There was a tingle at the base of his spine that grew into a bloom of pleasure as his strokes continued, his cock was still sensitive from his earlier orgasm and for once he was grateful for the condom that dulled the sensation to a delicious warmth, underplayed with increasing pleasure.

Justin’s mouth was all his to explore, his lips soft and plump, his tongue twisting around his like a snake. His nipples rubbed on Justin's sweaty chest, and Justin’s nails in his shoulders felt like crescents of bliss. It was amazing.

The hair on the back of his neck rose, his skin became covered in goose bumps, and his balls tightened to his body. He savored the feeling of his impending climax, and when he felt Justin’s body tremble under him, the telltale sign of his love’s own release, he roared joyfully, letting go, pleasure sweeping him away.

He was conscious of Justin laughing breathlessly under his weight, and got on his elbows. Justin’s lungs automatically filled with a huge breath and he kept laughing. His eyes were full of mirth, and he smiled at Brian, the most awesome smile Brian has ever seen. Brian smiled back, knowing exactly how Justin felt.

This had been the best fuck of his life. This was a man he’d had sex with two or three times a day, everyday they spent together, and instead of getting boring, ho-hum, sex was getting better and better.

How many times had he slipped his dick inside a sleeping Justin? Plenty. And it was always good, sometimes achingly sweet, sometimes passionately hot, sometimes the prelude to a long lovely fuck. And today… God. Unbelievable. And to think he had been coming to bed for a quickie, hoping Justin could go right back to sleep.

“You woke me up,” said Justin.

“I’m so sorry…” Brian grinned.

“I made a mess,” said Justin, looking at the come on his chest, on Brian’s chest.

“I think we need a shower.”

“Can I wash you?” Justin asked hopefully, as if it was the treat of a lifetime.

“Sure.”

“OK, then.”

It was very pleasant. Justin soaped him up and rinsed him, with long caressing motions, and kept kissing his lips. Then Justin washed himself quickly, mumbling he needed a wax.

“I haven’t noticed,” said Brian.

“If you ever do, I’ll have left it too long,” Justin answered. “Where do you go? Is there a place around here?”

They got out of the shower. “Uh… Gillian’s.” And he would need a wax soon too.

“I didn’t know they had a Spa.”

“Yes. They do waxings and massages and facials in the daytime.” Brian didn’t add the rest: And they blow you and fuck themselves on your dick as they provide those services…

“What’s the matter?” Shit. Justin was too perceptive by far.

“The waxing… It comes with a complementary blowjob. It distracts from the sting.”

“I bet.”

“I haven’t had a wax since Christmas Eve, Justin.” He wanted to make sure that Justin knew he had told the truth. There hadn’t been any blowjobs, not even therapeutic ones.

“Uh, is there something special about the blow job? A special technique or something?”

Why was he asking? “No. It’s just a blow job.” Was he considering…?

“We could go together. I could blow you, and you could blow me… If it really helps with the sting.”

Brian grabbed Justin and kissed him hard. The idea of someone else blowing Justin, and of Justin enjoying it made him want to vomit. Justin was his. HIS. Fuck. He was losing his mind. Justin had promised. He trusted him completely, just like he wanted Justin to trust him. Mutual blowjobs at Gillian’s sounded fun.

“I think that’s a brilliant idea. It might be the first time in my life I look forward to a wax. When do you want to go in?

“Does it really help?”

“Yes. It does.”

“As soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow after Pratt? We can wax, and get manicures and pedicures, have dinner, play pool and go dancing.”

“You really never need to leave that place, do you?”

Brian laughed. “Yes, you do. You have to go to work and make tons of money so you can afford the outrageous membership fee…”

“How much does it cost?”

“Do you really want to know?” They were stripping the bed.

“Sure. I like it there. I’m glad you’re a member, and that they allow you one guest.”

“It’s a one time $80,000.00 down payment, and $25,000.00 a year.”

“Wow. And all the people there have paid that?”

“Well there are free guests like you, but you have to be with me the entire time. Then there are paying guests like the guys last night. They have to come in with a member, but they are free to stay. And then there are the Dance club only people. I think it’s $100.00 bucks to get in, but you don’t have access to the rest of the club unless you get picked up by a member.”

They finished remaking the bed. Justin picked up their towels and went to the bathroom to hang them. Brian remembered thinking, before he asked him to move in, that Justin would be like a messy teenager. It was quite the opposite. He was actually very neat, and after this long, if it wasn’t his nature you would think he would have reverted to type. He was really a pleasure to live with.

“I think I’m going to draw for a bit,” said Justin. “Brian?”

“Justin?”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s Saturday night, and here I was asleep at eight. And now it’s ten, and all I want to do is draw a little before going back to bed.“

“Justin, I know I woke you up, but… you were conscious the whole time we were making love, weren’t you?”

Justin grinned.

“Need I say more?” asked Brian, grinning back.

“No. OK.” Justin looked so happy. Brian felt good.

By eleven, Justin was back in bed, asleep. Brian was next to him working, looking at the specs of the new hotel in Vail. The resort had a twist. It was for homosexuals only. There were different areas: a couple’s area, a single’s area, and a family area for gay men with children. The pre-construction studies and the surveys from gay magazine were very promising.

Now they had to sell the concept to paying customers. They were hoping to open their first ski season, next winter, fully booked, but had decided to open at Easter this year to test the waters with discounted week and week-end packages. Brian did not like that concept, but the company had already accepted it by the time the contract had landed on his desk. He had to think of either how to make them change their minds, or how to make the best of a bad situation. He closed his computer.

Justin’s sketchpad was on the headboard-integrated drawers. Would it be OK to look in it or was it an invasion of Justin’s privacy? It was open, though turned face down.

Brian picked it up and turned it over. It was a drawing of him at Gillian’s holding a cue, drawn in exquisite detail, including the shape of his hard on in his pants. Was he really that handsome or was that a view through Justin’s love for him? God. He hoped he looked that good… There was a caption and a date.

So I blew him in the middle of a pool room. Who could blame me? 02/27/06

There was a portrait of him asleep, and a drawing of his hand. He looked at his hand. It was completely accurate.

There was a drawing of him in his grey Armani, with his white shirt and satin blue tie. It had a caption.

I know your Daddy misses you especially when he wears the suit, shirt and tie that match the one you wore at the wedding. He loves you very much.

The previous page showed Brandon and Todd making love face to face in the moonlight a couple weeks ago. They had looked gorgeous, and Justin had captured them perfectly, their fingers laced together, and the love in their expressions, mingled with pleasure. Both their bodies were flawlessly represented, and it also had a caption. “Brandon, look at your face, this is the man you love, this is the reason you are choosing to move to New York. This is why you dance with Daphne and Emmett at Babylon and don’t ever trick anymore. Stop lying to yourself.”

The next was a nude drawing of Brian, aroused, a predatory look on his face. "Lucky Justin! You are about to get fucked." Brian chuckled.

There was the portrait of a beautiful old black woman on the bus.

There was a study of a dissected woman’s breast, and Brian shivered, turning the page back quickly.

Lilah, with her hat, and a multitude of her facial expressions.

The twins, caught in a moment of surprise, their similar faces similarly stunned.

A cartoon.

“The Day Brian Kinney Forgot his Pants Or The burden of being a fashion leader.”

The first picture showed Brian leaving the loft, reading the New York Times, pantless.

Brian, passing a woman on the street with a bubble above her head: “Nice suit”;

Passing a well dressed man looking annoyed: “Nobody told me pants were OUT!”;

Passing the Armani store, with Giorgio Armani himself in the window: “Of course, why didn’t I think of that!”, and to all the staff in the store: “Off! Off with the pants!”

Brian was chuckling.

As his avatar walked the streets, the word started spreading:

“If Kinney is not wearing any, neither am I!”;

“Well, I’d heard pants were out, but now I know for sure…”;

And pretty soon, all the businessmen in New York were walking around in their underwear, as Brian continued walking, still reading, on his way to work.

As cartoon Brian got to his office, Cynthia said: “Brian, you forgot your pants! Thank god I just picked up your dry cleaning!” (Cynthia picking up his dry cleaning? That would be the day…)

Cartoon Brian gratefully put on pants. “Wow! What would I do without you, Cynthia? Let me go get you a coffee at Starbucks to thank you!”

And as cartoon Brian stepped back outside, fully dressed, all the businessmen scurried like cockroaches, hiding their bare legs with their briefcases, to go put their pants back on. “Oh, God! Pantless is SO yesterday! Kinney has got his pants ON!!!”

The last picture showed Brian and Justin having breakfast at the loft, Justin, sitting at the bar, eating cereal, saying: “And so, in my dream, you’d forgotten your pants…” And Brian, standing in the kitchen, drinking his coffee straight from the carafe, wearing a tie but no shirt… “Silly Sunshine, I would NEVER forget my pants!”

Brian could just imagine Lindsay reading this to Gus. This was exactly the type of humor a little boy would “get” right away, and love. He looked at the details, and expressions on the faces in the drawings. It must have taken Justin several hours to do. When had he found the time? During taxi rides? On the bus? It was a labor of love. Gus was a lucky little boy.

Brian turned one more page back, and his heart dropped. There was a drawing of a beautiful man, muscular and naked, sitting (on a bed?) with his arms around his knees. A man he didn’t know. One he had never seen. Drawn in loving detail. He turned one more page. That same man from the back, looking right at Justin, over his shoulder. Who was that asshole?

One more page, one more drawing of the man, standing hands on his hips, every muscle well defined, his uncut cock at rest. Brian’s heart was beating in his throat. He wanted to put the sketchbook down, but couldn’t. One more page, one more page and he would. The man again, lying down, one leg folded. Brian was so upset he almost missed the caption. “Feb 11th/06. Drawing from Life. Analysis of muscle placement.”

He put the sketchbook down on his lap, and his face in his hands. God. It was an assignment. Justin had drawn a model in class. This was not… what? A lover? A trick? What had he been thinking, really? That Justin had been having an affair in his spare time? It would be laughable if it weren’t so pathetic.

Brian was jealous. Jealous! Worried earlier that Justin might want to sample a Gillian’s employee blow job while he was getting a wax, hating some poor random model in Justin’s sketchbook. He was just like any other lesbian out there… He had to work at this. He would not start watching Justin like a hawk.

Brian despised jealous people, had never understood them, had laughed at Mikey.

He had thought he would be bigger than this, enjoying knowing Justin was having fun, feeling pleasure. But he simply wasn’t. He had admitted to Todd how Justin fucking someone else would make him feel. And that was all right.

It was all right that he had been so happy when Justin had admitted not fucking anyone since Brandon. He wanted Justin for himself. He wanted to own that ass, own that beautiful cock.

He had admitted he didn’t want to share Justin, and Justin had admitted he didn’t want to share him. They had made the choice to be exclusive. Now he had to trust. Trust the man he loved to keep his promise, trust himself to be loved enough, hot enough, just plain enough so Justin wouldn’t want someone else.

But he did not want to be one of those jealous assholes. He would not be.

If Justin could walk into a hotel room, find an almost naked guy surrounded by discarded clothing and used wrappers of Brian’s brand of condoms, and be told Brian was in the shower, and STILL think Brian had not fucked the guy because he had said he would not, he could do it too.

He looked at his sleeping Sunshine. He felt the surge of love in his heart he always felt now, when he looked at him, or just thought about him. It was beautiful and made his whole being sing. He would not sully it with jealousy, or other petty, negative feelings.

He smiled, thinking back to horny Justin, wanting Brian to fuck him again and again earlier. He felt so lucky. They were so amazingly sexually compatible. In the past, he had never given it much thought, but had he been asked he would have said that his needs were too great to be satisfied by just one man.

Yet Justin did so without any problem, not only always ready and eager, but so many times instigating sex, sucking him in the elevator, jumping on him the minute he walked through the door, or blowing him in the middle of the pool room. Fuck. He was so hot, so sexy, so beautiful. And smart, and funny, and talented.

Brian picked up the sketchpad on his lap, and went back one more page. It was him, in the shower, washing his hair. One more, and here he was, at Plexus, working at his desk. One more, and he was eating Thai food with chopsticks, standing in the kitchen.

One more page back, to the very front, and it was his face, smiling, with an expression he had not known he had, one he was sure only Justin ever saw. It was love, and his face was glowing with it, his eyes saying without words, “I love you, Justin. I love you.”

He knew very well he was a handsome man, but in this portrait, he truly was beautiful. That was what his love for Justin was doing to him. Making him beautiful, inside and out. He grinned and closed the sketchbook. He wanted Justin to know he had looked at it, and to tell him if that made him uncomfortable.

He turned off the light, and molded his body to Justin’s, who instinctively took hold of his arm and hugged it to his chest. Brian took a deep breath of clean, warm and sleepy Justin, closed his eyes, and drifted away.

The bouquet of peonies Brian gave Jessica for her B-day.

This is the Leonard tie Justin picked for Brian to wear.

This is Brandon doing a Jete. Can you imagine that front foot landing in the middle of your back?

Another Brandon pic, dancing.

Last Brandon one. Nice body...