Getting his way, of course

A limo driver was waiting for them when they arrived. To Justin’s embarrassment, he picked up both their larger bags. Noticing Justin’s reluctance, Brian smiled at him.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s his job…”

Brian was surprised when the man started a conversation with Justin.

“So, you’re back. How was Pittsburgh?”

“Great. Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“Excellent. The kids got me a new bowling ball, championship quality. Real nice. You?”

“I made out like a bandit,” said Justin, smiling at Brian.

Brian realized the man must have been the one who had given Justin his ride to the airport. He had used their services for three years, and had never paid the slightest attention to the drivers. This man might have driven him a dozen times, and he had never bothered to say more than “Careful with that bag,” to him.

After opening the door for them, and putting the bags in the trunk, the chauffeur started the engine and pulled into traffic unhesitatingly.

“Told my girl I’d be glad to pay for art school if she got in. Never saw her so happy.”

Brian was amazed. How well did Justin know this man?

“That’s fantastic. Make sure she applies to Pratt. It’s a great school. Hey! I got offered a permanent position at Plexus. I’ll know tonight whether I have the job.”

“Good for you! It pays alright?”

“Yeah. And I get medical and dental.”

“You’re still gonna finish school, though, right? You really should finish your education.”

That man actually cared. Justin really had a gift with people.

“Yes. I’m going to go half time. It will take a little longer, but if I get the job, I really can’t pass up the opportunity, you know?”

“Yeah. You bet.”

Justin sat back, his conversation apparently over, and Brian automatically took him in his arms, resting his cheek on Justin’s hair, in the position they had always taken in the cabs at night. Going into the city from the airport on an early Sunday evening was a quick shot. They were almost there already.

“Justin, I need to speak to my partners alone. Can you wait in the lobby? I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“I’ll go down to the Art Department. I’ll use my old desk to work on some drawings.”

“When did you do the one you gave Gus?”

“A while back. You were wearing that coat the first time you gave me a ride back from Essengy.” Justin turned and looked at Brian with a smile that could have melted an iceberg.

Brian smiled back. That had been a very good night. He leaned to Justin, and said in his ear: ”Good boy” and just like that night, Justin chuckled and answered in his neck, ”Asshole.” Brian remembered how happy he had felt going back to the loft that night. How had he ever been able to convince himself that none of it mattered?

They pulled into the Plexus garage.

“Good luck with that job,” said the driver.

“Thanks, and thank you for the ride,” said Justin as the man handed him his bag.

Brian had never, in all his years, thanked a driver for a ride, considering it was their job. He thought of the number of times when clients had thanked him for a job well done, though they certainly paid plenty for his services. When the man handed him his bag, Brian actually looked at him. He had a friendly face, with a crooked nose and very pale blue eyes.

“Good call taking the parkway,” he said. “Saved us some time. Thanks.” The man smiled happily, tipped his hat and left. Justin really was a terrible influence. Brian was turning into a lesbian.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Justin when they entered the elevator. They were both carrying two bags each. Brian walked forward, pressing Justin between himself and the elevator wall, and kissed his lips lightly.

“You,” he answered, and it was so cheesy, he actually laughed.

Justin smiled at him, shaking his head. The doors opened onto the second floor and Justin raised himself on his toes to kiss him back.

“Later.”

“Later.”

Brian got off on the 3rd floor and walked to his office to drop off his bags, and then went directly to the conference room. Paul, Alan, Marcus, and Phil what’s-his-name, from Legal, were already there. Unbelievably, only Marcus was wearing a suit, probably the one he’d worn to church. Alan was in jeans, and Paul was dressed for golf, as if he’d come straight from the range.

“Any coffee?” asked Brian.

The other four looked at each other as if they’d never heard of the beverage. Brian sighed.

“Who else is here?” he asked.

“Betsy,” said Alan. “She’s been calling around to find a classical dance studio we can use.”

Well, at least one of them was thinking ahead. Brian picked up the phone to call her desk.

“Betsy? Brian… Yes, thank you. Would you be so kind as to make us a pot of coffee? We are completely useless here. I don’t think we even know where the kitchen is… We don’t have a kitchen?... The staff room. Oh. See what I mean? Thanks, Betsy.”

Paul looked at him in surprise. “You thought we had a kitchen?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “It’s not Betsy’s job to make us coffee, Paul. Of course I know we don’t have a kitchen. It’s called people handling skills. You should try it some time.”

Brian sat down. Time to get Justin a job… Time for some more people handling skills.

“As you know, the Art Department has been asking for another creative manager. Sam has expressed the desire of having the new employee start with the title of Assistant Creative Manager and work part time. He feels it will be enough to make everyone’s load in that department tolerable. Vangard has been trying to steal Julie away, and Sam has been getting calls from headhunters, so, even though I don’t think either one would leave us, I think giving them the support they need is essential.”

His three partners nodded their heads. They were aware of the issue, and it had been discussed in general terms at the last Principals’ meeting.

“I have the perfect candidate for the job. Familiar with its demands, creative, hard working, happy to start as Assistant instead of full fledged Manager. There is only one problem. He and I are lovers, and I do not want to infringe on the non-fraternization rule in effect at Plexus.

“I have spoken to an independent legal council (Wouldn’t Mel like to hear that? She would probably send him a bill…) and to another party familiar with employment issues. (After all, Ted did interview candidates for employment at his old firm.) Both independently agreed that our non-fraternization policy would not include pre-existing relationships. I just wanted to hear it from our own Legal Department representative, and make sure all three of you were aware of the situation so it would not take you by surprise.

Alan had a huge grin on his face. “Brian? Are you all right? Did you really just use the word ‘relationship’ and the word ‘lover’ in reference to yourself?”

“Yes, Alan.” Brian looked at him as if he had no idea why Alan should be surprised. “I did.” Then he smiled just a little.

Paul added teasingly, “Does it mean we might be able to go to the last bench of the steam room at lunch without finding some guy with your cock in his mouth?”

“Why, Paul, you old perv. I didn’t realize you liked to watch. Will you miss it?”

Marcus interrupted. “Gentlemen? I think the matter of concern here is a legal one. Could you keep your sophomoric conversations for your own time and keep to the subject at hand? Phil?”

Ted and Mel had been right. Phil agreed that the company rule of no fraternization with employees did not include pre-existing relationships, and that it would be perfectly all right for Mr. Kinney to hire his … lover. (Brian did not care much for the word boyfriend, and thought the word partner implied that the parties were living together, so he’d chosen to use the term ‘lover’. He’d not particularly liked the smirk on Phil’s face when he repeated it, but let it slide.)

“Phil, would you be so kind as to draw up a standard contract right now? I would like to put this in motion as soon as possible. Salary is baseline for Assistant managers and it should include Dental and Medical coverage and transportation. 25 hours a week, actual hours of work to be determined between the employee and Sam Rosen.”

He looked at his partners. “This is a confidential meeting, but I would like to nonetheless emphasize the request of our new employee to keep his relationship with me known only to the four of us, due to the common tensions that exist between the 3rd floor and the Art Department. He doesn’t want their behavior towards him to be altered or restrained by a perceived need to protect his feelings, or by worries that what is said in frustration could find its way back to us.”

“You mean that they might hesitate to call you The Asshole around him?” joked Alan.

“Right, His Nibs. That’s exactly what I mean…”

All four of them chuckled. They were all familiar with the nicknames the Art Department used for them, and really didn’t care, as long as their employees came through for them.

They spent a few more minutes discussing the current crisis, and Brian went back to his office to prepare. He called Justin first.

“This is Justin Taylor”

“Hello, Taylor. Brian Kinney here. I am pleased to announce that you will shortly be presented with an employment contract with the firm of Plexus Advertising. Congratulations.”

Brian could hear the smile in Justin’s voice when he answered, “Thank you, sir. I’m sure I will be able to express my gratitude for your support in this matter in an elevator, at some point.”

“Certainly. And I am sure you’ll agree this type of things is best if taken care of in a timely manner.”

“Absolutely. Sir.”

“Excellent.”

Brian hung up and smiled one last time before dedicating his entire concentration to the challenge ahead. At a quarter of eight, Brian was as ready as he would ever be for his meeting with Clearlife. He was waiting for Sam. He’d had an hour and fifteen minutes to figure out the best way to get Clearlife to embrace his idea of going forward with the campaign, using an unknown ballet dancer and getting the whole thing done in seventy-two hours. He had had no problem convincing his partners he ought to go at it alone, though he had called Sam in to support his technical claims.

Betsy had come to his office at seven-thirty to warn him the Clearlife representative, their CEO and four others had arrived early and were already waiting. Brian did not care. The meeting was at eight. He would be there at eight. Sam arrived, wearing a suit. Thank god, some people had a brain.

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for coming in.”

“It’s my campaign too, Kinney.”

“Yes it is. Whatever I say in there, you know you have to back me up, right?”

“Brian, I’m not an idiot. I know what’s at stake here. I got your back.”

“Thanks, Sam.” And Brian started out of the office.

Sam caught his arm, and said: “We’ve got a few more minutes, and I need to talk to you about something.”

Brian was surprised. He and Sam had always gotten along quite well, and he suddenly realized Sam looked extremely pissed off at him about something.

“What is it?” He wanted to clear the air. They had to be on the same page in there.

“I met Phil in the elevator. He told me, and I quote, about “a bit of fancy fag nepotism” he had gotten to witness. That one of the partners, ‘wink-wink’, and I quote again, “has hired his little cock sucking boyfriend” to work in my department as an Assistant Creative Manager.

“Now, I cannot stand that homophobic prick but that's neither here nor there, Kinney.” Brian could tell Sam was working up a nice head of steam. “Justin Taylor is fucking brilliant. That you didn’t think he was the right man for the job always sounded like a load of horseshit to me. Now I finally understand why you would pass up hiring him: just so you could hire your goddamn boyfriend. Well, let me tell you what I think…”

He was interrupted when Justin walked in the door.

“Bri… Oh, hello, Sam. How is it going? Mr. Kinney?”

“Taylor?”

“I thought maybe these could be of use to you during your presentation.” Justin handed him some sketches. The first two were of Brandon dancing. The next one was of Brandon, in casual clothes, sitting on a couch, laughing. The next one was a close up portrait of his face, looking mildly amused, and the last one a profile, his eyes lost in thought. They were truly amazing. The two drawings he already had, which had been the only visual support to his argument, were good, but these were absolutely fabulous.

“Wow, Sunshine.” Brian looked through them again, and smiled at Justin. “These are really incredible!”

Justin gave him a pointed look gesturing toward Sam with his eyes, reminding him as best he could that he did not want their relationship to be public knowledge in the Art Department. Brian, pretending to misunderstand, turned to Sam, who looked very confused, and said:

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sam. Let me introduce you to your new Assistant Creative Manager: Justin Taylor, this is Sam Rosen. Sam, this is my little cock-sucking boyfriend, Sunshine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a quick call.”

Sam burst out laughing while Justin looked completely at sea. Brian picked up his office phone and dialed the Legal Department. Phil should still be there, finishing up Justin’s contract. While the phone was ringing, he listened to Sam recount his little diatribe to Brian and assure Justin that he understood his desire not to advertise the relationship. The information was safe with him.

“Phil? Brian Kinney. How is that contract coming along? Good. Please drop it on my desk on your way out… Yes, I understand you are not an errand boy, and that you would like to go home and enjoy what little is left of your weekend. But do it anyway, will you?... Incidentally, Phil, it has been brought to my attention that you seem to have forgotten the meaning of the word confidential in the expression confidential meeting somewhere between the conference room and the elevator, which for an employee of the Legal Department is a little unfortunate, I’m sure you’ll agree. So I would like you to be in my office tomorrow morning a 7:00AM to explain to me, first, why you should remain in our employment, and second, why we shouldn’t sue you for breach of the confidentiality clause in your contract. But please. Don’t let me keep you. After you drop that contract on my desk, do go home and enjoy what little is left of your weekend.”

Brian hung up the phone. Sam and Justin were both staring at him, a bit awed. Brian ignored it and checked his clock.

“Time to go and think on our feet. Ready Sam?” He smiled at Justin. “Taylor, you are welcome to wait here if you’d like. The couch is very comfortable, and I find my painting to be remarkably soothing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kinney.”

Sam followed Brian out, chuckling.

*****

The meeting with Clearlife ended at 10:30PM, with the entire Clearlife delegation in love with the idea of using the incredibly handsome Brandon Bloomquist as their spokesperson, and excited about putting forward a sport which was also an art form, that really had been too long overlooked. Ice-skating was, after all, a little pedestrian. Christie Yamaguchi was on the Wheaties box, for heaven’s sake…

Brian, as it often happened when he had to use all of his impressive skills to bend people to his will, had had a hard on throughout the meeting. It usually dissipated along with the adrenaline rush, and as usual, he ignored it. However, he couldn’t wait to tell Justin how much his drawings had helped, especially the one of Brandon sitting on the couch, laughing. He entered his office, expecting to find Justin asleep on his couch, which he wasn’t.

His cock registered what he was seeing before his brain and suddenly was as hard as a baseball bat. Justin was lying back on his desk, resting on his elbows, fully naked, feet flat on the desk and legs spread apart. His anus was shining with lube, and he held a condom packet between his teeth.

Brian might have growled. He wasn’t sure. There was no blood left in his brain for those insignificant details. He locked the door, undid his belt, unzipped his pants, pushed them down along with his underwear to the middle of his thighs, grabbed the condom pack, ripped it open and slipped it on with the speed of years of practice, and sank into Justin’s welcoming body to his balls with a grunt, in the time of two breaths.

Justin tightened around him and smiled, and Brian almost lost it. He took a deep breath but almost came again watching Justin, who was now lying fully on his desk, take himself in hand and start jerking off. He tried to again relax away enough from his orgasm to start moving, but Justin, still masturbating, grabbed his nipple ring, twisted it, and moaned. It was a losing battle.

Giving up all thoughts of a prolonged bout of lovemaking, Brian moved his hips back and pumped fast and deep into Justin’s ass, staring at the overwhelmingly arousing sight in front of him. On the fifth thrust, he exploded, seeing stars behind his lids. He reopened his eyes just in time to see Justin’s cock erupt and to watch his gorgeous face in the throes of orgasm. As soon as Justin had caught his breath, they both started laughing, and he pulled out gently as Justin sat up.

“I got so worked up waiting for you,” said Justin, “I almost came when you walked in.”

“And you decided to wait for me, fuck ready, on my desk, because...?”

“I was in the John, and Alan and Paul came in. Paul was worried and Alan told him not to be, that you could sell a double amputee a pair of ice-skates in the Sahara. That you got off on the challenge.” Justin used his boxers to clean himself up, and got dressed again, going commando. “And Paul said that you really did, that he remembered that when you had sold Body by Design on the idea of the four-approach campaign he had noticed you had a hard on the entire time. I thought it would be a nice way to help you release some stress.”

Brian got himself straightened out again, and took Justin into his arms. He chuckled. “The condom packet between the teeth was a very nice touch.”

Justin grinned. “Thank you. It’s great to have a boss who appreciates his employees’ efforts. I always knew it would be a pleasure working under you…” Brian smirked at the horrible pun.

"Did everything go as you expected?" asked Justin.

"Was there ever any doubt?" answered Brian.

Justin rolled his eyes, chuckling and gave him a message from Jessica. They would be ready to negotiate the contract at ten the next morning. She’d asked Justin to accompany her to the airport in the morning to pick up Brandon, to facilitate their introduction. His flight was getting in at 7:10, and Justin knew Brian would be in a meeting. Brian thought that was a great idea.

Before heading out, he left a message for Gerard Stanford, Phil’s boss. He should really be there at their meeting, and after firing Phil, which he had every intention of doing, he would need someone from Legal to be present for the contract negotiations with Brandon. He also called in Bower, from accounting, who surprisingly already knew he would be needed... Cynthia and he were apparently coming in together. Brian could not wait to avenge himself of her ‘cute little blond’ remark…

Trying not to dwell on the overwhelming amount of work to be done in the limited time before the Rose Bowl, Brian decided to call it a night. He watched Justin who was reading the employment contract Phil had left on Brian’s desk.

“Take it home,” he said. “We can look at it together.”

“Home?” asked Justin.

“I mean take it to the loft. You were planning on coming to the loft with me, weren’t you?” Brian was suddenly reminded that they were back in New York, where Justin had his own place.

“Yes. Rory’s brother is using my bed until the second. I’m afraid you're stuck with me.”

Though they’d only shared the suite a couple of nights, the thought of sleeping apart from Justin already felt so strange. How was it going to work? Justin’s roommates counted on him for the kitchen clean up, either at the end of the day, or in the early morning… Justin was going to have to go ‘home’ every day. And Brian, though he would not put pressure on Justin, really wanted him in his bed every night. Somehow they would figure it out. Justin was with him until the second. Right now, he had to concentrate on Clearlife.

They took a taxi, Brian smiling inwardly at the thought that he was not dropping Justin off, but taking him home. He told Justin how his drawing of Brandon laughing had been a turning point in the meeting, because though incredibly good looking, the laugh had made him seem approachable, full of gentle self-deprecating humor.

“He is, you know… He is so different than the image he projects at Babylon. Kind of goofy, even.”

“Don’t worry, Justin. I appreciate Brandon more every time I see him, and he is your friend, so even if that weren’t already the case, I’d learn to like him. After all, you put up with my friends.” He was thinking of his less than relaxing lunch with Michael, though Justin could not, would not, know about that.

Justin laughed. “I learned to know and like them when they were Daphne’s new friends, though…”

“I forget. You do know how weird that is, right?”

“Tell me about it. I will never forget opening that door with Gus in my arms and finding you on the stoop. That was the most unreal moment of my entire life.”

Brian thought it had probably been one of the happiest moments in his. He had been, without admitting it, making the most outlandish plans to force another meeting between himself and Justin, and without any efforts on his part, there was Justin, already ensconced in Brian’s Pittsburgh family.

They were at the loft. He wanted Justin to know his many codes. Might as well start now.

“Justin, this door’s code is 1-D-e-a-d-T-e-d. It’s case sensitive.”

“One dead Ted?” Justin was looking a bit shocked. “Brian, that’s weird.”

Brian laughed. “Not as weird as finding out that one of your friends is counting on you to pull the plug on his comatose ass, believe me…”

“Wow! You have to tell me about that!”

“Long story… The code to call the elevator is 2-A-u-n-t-y-E-m.”

“OK. This is unexpectedly sweet, Brian.”

“Pay attention, Sunshine. To get to the top floor, the elevator code is 3-P-f-l-a-g-M-o-m.”

“Debbie, all right…”

“To unlock the loft is 1-4-M-i-k-e-y”

“Why fourteen?”

“We were fourteen when we met.”

“Ah.”

“To disarm the alarm the code is 5-L-i-n-d-z.”

“All right.”

“To reset the alarm when you are in the loft, it’s 6-S-o-n-n-y-b-o-y. To reset it when you leave is 7-S-o-n-n-y-b-o-y.”

Justin was looking at him, puzzled.

“Brian, why didn’t you go home for Thanksgiving?”

Brian knew exactly why Justin was asking. His codes were awfully revealing of how important these people were to him. He thought back to Thanksgiving, to all the times he had made excuses and not gone home to them.

“The less I saw them, the less I missed them. It was completely selfish. Coming back after a visit was… lonely.“ Brian smiled at him. “Now I’ll have you to come back with, or at least to come back to. I think I’ll go visit more often…” He reached for Justin, and started undoing his pants.

“Brian, wait. I’m starving. I need something to eat!” Brian smiled to himself when Justin went into the kitchen. He opened the fridge. Evian water bottles on one shelf, Dos Equis on another, and poppers in the door.

Justin opened his cupboards one by one.

Perfectly organized china.

Glasses in gleaming rows.

Bottles of J&B.

Empty cupboard.

Another empty one.

A lone box of Grapenuts cereal.

Multiple bottles of booze.

Diet microwave popcorn.

Bags of coffee beans and 3 one kilogram bags of white sugar.

That was it.

Justin turned to Brian, appalled. “Don’t you ever eat?”

“I order out.”

“It’s kind of late. I want to go to bed. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Always.”

“What do you mean?”

“My metabolism started slowing down when I was 24. I wanted to keep my looks. Not bulk up like most guys do, even if they stay lean. So I ate less. I’ve been hungry for ten years.”

“How can you stand it?”

“I fuck instead. Want to try it?”

Justin looked at him and smiled. “I can eat dry cereal, or I can eat your ass. No contest.” He started stripping.

Brian’s cock was instantly hard. Justin could eat his ass, but tonight, Brian wanted to top and make Justin come again and again. He was hungry. He would feast his eyes on the expression on Justin’s face as he reached orgasm, and for desert, savor the delicious sounds he made when he lost control. For protein, he would lick the come off his belly. The perfect dinner.

Justin’s blond head resting on his shoulder, hearing his soft breath, smelling his clean hair, having just made sweet passionate love with him, Brian did not want to fall asleep. He wanted to savor the feeling of peaceful joy that filled him. It reminded him of how frustrated he had gotten with Michael at lunch. Hard to believe it was only hours ago. This had been a long day.

“He seems awfully close to that Brandon, and believe me, that guy fucks anyone he wants.”

“Mikey, they’re friends. And I don’t care if they fucked each other once upon a time. I’ve fucked half the guys at Babylon, and Justin doesn’t care.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he seems to zone in on both you and that Brandon? Maybe he gets off on the 'power tops.' What’s going to happen when he meets the next one?”

“I guess we’ll have to see, Mikey…” He’d taken a bite of his sandwich, hoping Michael would take a hint and change topics.

“He is young. He is cute. He could have anyone he wants, probably,” insisted Michael, clueless. “Do you wonder why he is with you?”

Brian thought of the first time they touched, of their first kiss, of the intense physical connection they had shared from the beginning.

“No.”

“You make a lot of money, you live in a fabulous loft. Has it occurred to you that could be why?”

“Well, there are certainly no other reasons why any guy would ever want me to fuck them. That’s why I always show tricks my pay stubs before I can convince them to let me fuck them in the back room. I’ve always had problems finding partners…”

“Yes, well, he is a starving student, isn’t he? And just how much money can he hope to make with his little paintings?”

“A hell of a lot more than you make with Red Cape, that’s for sure. Can we get off this subject? You are starting to piss me off.”

“See! He is already alienating you from your real friends!”

“You’re doing a fine job without anyone’s help, Mikey. What the fuck is your problem with Justin?”

“You don’t do boyfriends, Brian. You don’t believe in love, you believe in fucking. You don’t want a boyfriend!”

“Is that what helped you all these years, Mikey? Telling yourself that it wasn’t that I didn’t want you that way, just that I didn’t want anyone that way? Well, I hate to pop your bubble. I want Justin. I want him everyday, in every way. And if he were to suddenly disappear, I still wouldn’t want you. You are married, Michael, to a wonderful man. So you either get over this, or believe me, we won’t be having lunch together very often. Now I’m going to go visit my son, with my boyfriend, Justin. Get a fucking clue, Mikey.”

He had thrown money on the table, and left. Michael had been his best friend for twenty years. He mistakenly had thought Michael would be happy about what was happening in Brian’s life. He didn’t need anyone’s approval, but it would have been nice. It pissed him off a little. Then he thought about Justin, and about how he felt about him and chuckled. God, he really didn’t give a shit what Michael thought.

And now, with the love of his life in his arms, he smiled in the dark. He didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.

To be continued...