- Text Size +

Dichotomy



Justin ran for his life giggling madly, taking refuge behind the kitchen island. Brian, a feral smile on his lips said, “You can run, little Sunshine, but you can’t hide…” and he made a dash around the island. Justin squealed and escaped to the couch, intending on circling it when Brian came after him.


Just minutes ago, Brian had been lying on his belly in bed, admiring the Ste. Blanche ad in the February issue of The Wine Spectator. Two feet of fresh snow had fallen since the morning, the perfect excuse to stay in all day, naked, reading the Sunday paper, doing the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle together (or at least attempting to…), fucking, talking, working side by side on laptops, making love, napping, eating Justin’s latest low fat high protein creation, watching a movie…


Justin had been in the living room, watching the colors of the sunset on the fresh snow, and describing them to Brian. He had quietly opened the window and collected fresh snow in his cupped hands. Grinning like a fiend, he had then gone into the bedroom, casually continuing their conversation, and had dumped the icy stuff in the shallow of Brian’s lower back.


Which is why he was now in front of the couch, ready to dash away from Brian who was coming at him in long unhurried strides, looking every inch the sexy predator. Justin realized his miscalculation when instead of contouring the couch, Brian just effortlessly leaped over it, tackling him onto the gorgeous new colorful rug that covered more than half of the loft’s hardwood floor.


“Suffer rug burns, or get on the bed and submit to your punishment, Justin… Your choice,” said Brian smiling, holding both of Justin’s hands above his head, and bending down to kiss his willing mouth. Justin had been hard throughout the chase, and now he felt precome welling up from his cock.


“Bed, please…” Rug burns were so unsightly.


Brian let go of his hands and Justin walked ahead of him back to their bed, wiggling his bum enticingly, making Brian chuckle. He received a loud slap on his ass for his trouble, and felt his cock stiffen further.


Brian had had the presence of mind to roll off the bed so the snow was dumped on the floor, and not the sheets. He grabbed the hand towel from the bathroom rack to absorb the water, and then turned to the bed, where Justin was meekly sitting on his heels, awaiting his “punishment” trying not to smile.


“I think you deserve a good spanking, don’t you?” asked Brian, his hands on his hips, his erection looking very tempting to Justin.


Justin nodded, trying not to giggle. Brian sat on the edge of the bed.


“Across my lap, Sunshine,” ordered Brian, grabbing the tube of lube and a condom, apparently in preparation.


Justin placed himself across his lap, his cock squeezed between Brian's thigh and his own stomach; he wiggled a bit, making himself comfortable, and enjoying the sensations, curving his spine to put his ass even more up in the air. He was surprised to hear the sound of the cap of the lube being flicked opened, and shivered a little when Brian put a blob of it in his crack.


“Does it feel cold, Sunshine? Ohhh. Sorry. You should try a pound of snow on the small of your back…” Smack!


Justin jumped and squealed. The open hand smack had surprised him, but spread on both his cheeks and not very hard, it didn’t really hurt. He wiggled his ass invitingly.


“Your ass is so gorgeous, Justin. I love the way my hand just, smack! bounces right off.”


On the lower part of his ass, hitting his upper thigh as well, the light but firm slap felt good.


Smack! Smack! Smack! Alternating cheeks and full bum, and then Brian's finger was circling his entrance, probing lightly past the sensitive ring. It felt wonderful.


Smack! Smack! Down low again, the gentle slaps were very arousing and a knuckle up his ass going in and out quickly, made him ache for more.


Smack! Smack! Smack! A whole finger fucking him, caressing his prostate. So good…


Smack! Smack! The slaps were light enough not to hurt, just sting a little, and his whole ass felt deliciously warm and sensitive. Then two fingers went in, fucking him, drumming lightly on his prostate. He started to arch his ass up and down to vary the pressure on his cock.


The next smack was a lot harder, and Brian said, “Lie on the bed, on your back, and spread your legs.”

 

 

Justin obeyed eagerly. The finger fucking resumed, and Brian took the head of Justin's cock in his mouth, suckling on it, driving Justin positively mad with delight. He was seconds from coming when Brian stopped. Justin whined in distress.


“What are you going to wear to the wedding?” asked Brian.


“What? Uh…Clothes? Please Brian, I was so…”


“I think we should go shopping and buy you something… nice.”


“Ok. Whatever you want. Please…”


Brian swallowed him to the root, and started finger fucking him again. Justin sighed with ease before feeling his orgasm build and build again to that point of no ret… Brian stopped again. Justin keened in misery.


“I wonder what Emmett is going to wear. Do you suppose they are going to do the black tux/white tux thing?”


“Uh…I. Oh, Brian, can we talk about that later I was very clo…”


Brian took the head of his cock in again, and swiped his tongue under the rim, on that special spot that made Justin actually see the pleasure like a red flower blooming inside his lids. The fingers were back in his ass caressing his prostate lightly, and he was finally trembling, that close to reaching his climax when Brian stopped everything and sat up.


“I can’t imagine Emmett will be that tacky. He has great taste really.”


Desperate, Justin grabbed his cock to bring himself off, but Brian stopped him.


“Did you actually think the spanking was the punishment?” Brian asked, laughing. “You enjoy that way too much…”


“Brian, please, I beg you,” pleaded Justin, finally seeing Brian’s evil plan.


“You are so cute when you are desperate.” Brian lay down, his hands behind his head. “All right. You may ride my cock. But don’t touch yourself.”


Justin grinned at him and sank down on Brian's gorgeous cock with a sigh of relief. It felt so good. He started moving up and down, fucking himself on Brian, canting his hips so the tip bumped into his prostate followed by the entire length gliding along it. He closed his eyes to visualize white explosions at each thrust.


“Look at me, look at me, Justin…”


Justin opened his eyes and looked at Brian, whose body was covered in a sheen of sweat.


“You are so fucking beautiful, Sunshine.”


Justin leaned forward to rest on the bed and lifted off Brian until the head of his cock was between the two rings of muscles at his entrance, and started moving up and down very fast, using the spring of the mattress to keep it going. When Brian started panting, he pushed himself all the way down and up again, several times, before resuming his short fucking strokes at the entrance.


“Oh, yeah, Justin, oh, God, that’s so good…Do it again, oh, yeah, fuck…”


Justin knew Brian really was enjoying it. It was unlike him to be so loquacious.


“Touch yourself, now Justin, play with your cock…”


This meant Brian was close and wanted them to come together. He himself had been floating on that knife edge, each motion on the verge of sending him spiraling from incredible pleasure to full on orgasm. He knew what Brian liked to see. He slicked his hand, and grabbed his cock bellow the head, and pulled until it slipped through his fist, and pushed again until the head popped out above his fingers. Fuck, it felt so good, added to his going up and down on BrianĀ’s cock, he didn’t have more than a couple of tugs in him before he would start spraying come all over Brian…


“Justin…Justin…” Brian bucked his hips as he came into the condom, deep in Justin’s ass. That was all it took for Justin. It felt as if his orgasm started from his feet, through his tingly ass, up his arm to his hand and back again through his balls and out his cock, spraying Brian’s chest. It was so fucking good. God… He loved that man.


He was always amazed that, as often as they had sex, he never seemed to run out of spunk. He lifted himself gently, removed and tied Brian’s condom, and collapsed onto the bed, his head on Brian's shoulder, his arm across his chest and his leg over Brian’s.


Brian reached for the towel next to the bed and wiped the come off his belly and chest, wiped under the arm Justin had raised off his chest, and threw it back on the floor. He wrapped his Sunshine in his arms in a way that made Justin feel loved and cherished. They both sighed at the same time and chuckled.


After a few minutes of relaxed quiet Brian said, “…Dichotomy, Neither here nor there in 9 letters is dichotomy.”


“Oh, good,” said Justin ironically, “now I can sleep tonight!”


“You are just jealous of my post coital brilliance…”


“I’m actually much more interested in your in coitus brilliance.”


“And?”


“It’s blinding. You are more than a brilliant fuck. You are a blinding fuck. I may have to start wearing shades to bed, or soon I’ll need a white cane.”


They both started laughing at the ridiculousness he was spouting out. They were quiet for a few minutes, and Brian said, “Well, your smile is blinding…” and they were laughing again.


“I don’t want to move, but I have to get up and eat something. Are you eating tonight?”


“I’ll get up with you and have an apple.”


Justin had stopped worrying about how little Brian ate. First because he ate a little more now that he drank a little less, and second because, according to Brian, his last check up had shown him to be as healthy as a horse.


“Justin, look in the booze cupboard. I’ve got a surprise for you.”


“Yeah?” Justin opened the door to find a Krispy Kreme bag with two doughnuts between the Absolut and the Laphroig. He was instantly salivating. He got the bag out, a huge smile on his face, and kissed Brian’s cheek. He got out a glass of milk and while Brian savored every bite of his tart apple, he devoured his doughnuts. One was glazed (his absolute favorite) the other chocolate (his second favorite).


“How did you know which one to buy?”


“I talked to Daphne.”


“She never told me!”


“I bought her silence.”


“How much?”


“A round trip ticket to Portland Maine on February thirteenth.”


“Oh, my god, Brian! Thank you… She wanted to come so badly and she wouldn’t let me buy her a ticket… How did you convince her?”


“I just send her a non-refundable ticket. When she called to yell at me and thank me, I asked her about the doughnuts.”


Justin smiled. So like Brian, to do something so nice and pretend it was a bribe. Justin had not asked if Brian was going. He knew how Brian felt about gay marriage.


Justin wasn’t quite sure how he felt. On one hand he wanted gays and lesbians to have the same rights as everyone else. On the other he did not see why gays should have to acquiesce to heterosexual rules. Wasn’t one of the main origins of marriage the protection of children? Within the enforced sanctity of marriage, a man could be insured of the paternity of his offspring, and a woman could make him accountable for their support.


Gays did not have offspring. They were not obsessed with monogamy and fidelity to the same extent as heterosexuals. Why did they need marriage, especially when in the last century the old fashioned institution had turned into such a colossal failure?


If a couple desired the public acknowledgment of their relationship and commitment, wasn’t a commitment ceremony actually more significant? What was left that a husband could get but a partner could not? You could inherit, get insurance, share finances, buy a mortgage together nowadays… so what was the point of jumping on the marriage boat when 50% of the flotilla would end up sinking anyway?


He was going to the wedding for three main reasons: He had been invited: Emmett, a friend, and his partner had expressed the desire for his presence at their celebration. Gus would be there, and he missed the little boy. The party would be a joyous get together of a bunch of people he really cared about. None of these had anything to do with his feelings about the institution, and he was not about to give them up to make a political point. Was Brian?”


“Do you have a gift for them?”


OK. That was four. Four times that Brian had brought up the wedding in the last hour. He obviously wanted to talk about it. Why he didn’t come straight out and say so was part of the Brian Kinney charm.


“Not sure.”


“How can you not be sure? Either you do or you don’t.”


“Well, they registered at the Pottery Barn…”


Brian snorted.


“… And I saw a huge bread dough bowl on their list that I like and is in my price range,”


“How much?”


“$169 on sale.”


Brian looked as if he was trying not to laugh.


“What?”


“Just picturing Drew, with a frilly apron. Making bread. Naked. I’d pay $169 to see that…” He had a gleeful smile on his face.


“You’re evil.”


“I’m sweet. What’s the other choice?”


“Well, I have this painting… I think they would like it. It’s beautiful, color-wise, and hopeful, you know? I painted it when I was about climbing the walls with wanting you, waking up every morning covered in spunk… “ He leaned over and kissed Brian, just because he could. Being apart from him had been such hell. “So you would probably feel that loud and clear, but I think most people would see it as a celebration of love… Appropriate for a wedding. But it’s a bit weird giving people a homemade gift, no?”


“Justin, one of your paintings is not exactly like a knitted oven mitt!”


“I know, but if they hate it they can’t return it…”


“Hm… A $ 169 bread bowl they can return for store credit, or a Justin Taylor original they can resell for $ 4000… Difficult choice, Justin…”


“Well, I suppose if you look at it like that. But they might feel compelled to keep it.”


“And if they do, their kids can sell it for ten times that and go to college…”


“You think they’ll have kids?”


“Is that going to influence your decision about the gift?”


“…No. I was just wondering.”


“Shouldn’t you be keeping all your paintings for your expo, though?”


“I have been pretty productive, actually… so I don’t think it will be a problem.”


“Will you have to sell The Colors of my Heart?”


“I… Uh… I have another one I really like that I want to put here instead. It’s almost finished. In total I have eleven ready to sell unless I give one to Emmett and Drew, four I could put in the expo as not for sale, and I have four more going… And I still have a month and a half. I think it’ll be fine.”


Justin really wanted for Brian to come see his new paintings, but felt strangely shy about it. Of the four, three had mostly been painted while they were apart. “Jason is coming tomorrow to see four new ones… Do you want to come?”


Brian looked at him and rolled in his lips. Justin, thinking that meant that he didn’t, was trying to hide his disappointment when Brian answered, “More than anything. It means so much to me that you should want me to see the work you did while we were apart.”


Justin wondered what he meant. Brian took him in his arms. “Remember The Face of God? You told me you could hide nothing from me. When I was missing you, so much, I thought if only I could see your paintings, I would know. If you still loved me. If you could ever completely trust me again. If things could ever be as they had been.”


Justin’s heart was beating hard. To know that Brian had had these kinds of doubts, and had still waited for him was amazing. Not so long ago, Brian would have written him off and moved on, not because he wanted to, as much as because that way he would not risk being hurt when Justin left him…


Brian had said things: ‘Anything’, ‘As long as you need’, and had meant them, and had kept his word no matter how much he hurt. Justin was in awe of what it revealed of Brian’s feelings for him. Brian was resting his forehead on Justin’s, holding him wrapped in his arms. How had Justin been able to stay away as long as he had?


He pulled Brian into a kiss, running the tip of his tongue over the gorgeous lips. Through his upper one he could feel Brian's misaligned front tooth that gave such charm to his smile. His lips tasted of Granny Smith apple. He ran his hand through the thick fine hair. Brian would never go bald. His neck was warm and strong. Justin ran his hands down Brian’s back, up his arms. He knew how often Brian had worked out this past month. More than ever his body felt like silk on steel, his abs now almost as well defined as Todd’s. He was breathtakingly beautiful. And he was Justin’s.


He had missed touching that body, being held close by these arms, breathing the scent of that skin.


“Brian, staying away from you until I was truly ready to come home, truly myself again, was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn’t want our relationship to change to one where you would feel compelled by guilt to take care of me because I wasn’t whole. From the start, we have been equal partners, and I never want that to change. I never want to depend on someone else, because I am too weak to stand on my own.”


Justin kissed Brian lightly, and pushed the hair away from his face, something Brian always did to him. “As lame as it may sound, I think you are the love of my life, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize our relationship. My love for you was never in question. Neither was my trust in you. I went away, to get better, so we could be as we had been.”


“How can you say your trust in me was never in question, after what I did to you?”


“How long after you left the loft did you come back to apologize?”


“About an hour.”


“Brian, people don’t call you the Asshole for nothing. You can definitely be one. I do not have any grand delusions that you are never going to be an asshole to me. Had I not needed to get up so early, you would have come home to some serious ass chewing. What you did to me was spiteful, hurtful and frankly a little pathetic. What it did to me was as much a surprise to you as to myself. You never intended to psychologically rape me.“


Justin was so glad he was able now to say the words without cringing, to remember the fear, but not feel it.


“You never apologize, and yet, about an hour after a pretty spectacular asshole moment, you were coming back to do just that. Why should I not trust you? I do not hold you responsible for the psychological damage in which your action resulted. But I do hold you responsible for being an asshole.“


He took hold of Brian’s face between his hand, making sure to make eye contact and have his attention.


“And if you ever do anything even remotely as unfair and painful as that to me again, I will kick your ass, and don’t think I can’t.” He kissed Brian's lips again. “I have a feeling, however, that the unintended repercussion of this particular asshole moment of yours might actually have made you rethink your natural tendency to hit first, hit hard, hit low and make sure to inflict the most painful wound possible. At least I hope so…“


The expression on Brian’s face told him how right he was.


Then Brian grinned and said, “Sunshine, are you threatening me with bodily harm?”


Justin grinned back. “I think if instead of being a shocked and hurt little faggot I had tackled you, tied you to our bed spread eagle and paddled your ass until you apologized, and then fucked you slowly until you forgot your name, a lot of this past month’s drama might have been avoided, don’t you?” God. How Justin wished he had had the wherewithal not to take Brian’s crap literally lying down…


“You do realize that if you expect your threats to effectively change my behavior, you should not make the punishment sound so… attractive, don’t you?”


Justin burst out laughing. “Really? You would like me to paddle your ass? With you counting, ‘One, thank you, sir. Two, thank you, sir’…” Justin was gently slapping Brian’s small cheeks along with his words.


“I am quite sure I would hate that part of it. But the slow fuck until I forget my name somehow makes up for it…”


“Really. Would you like to try it? We could just skip the paddling and go straight to the fucking…”


“Hm… Can we keep the tying to the bed part? That’s hot.”


“You do own a nice collection of ties. How often do you get to use four at once?”


Falling asleep quite a bit later in Brian’s arms, Justin admitted to himself that though it was not something he would want every week, fucking Brian while he had been completely at his mercy had been amazingly arousing.


It had not been easy for Brian to surrender completely. Justin had had to revert to their early how to top a top techniques. But eventually, Brian had let go of his inhibitions and begged and pleaded to get what he wanted. He had come twice. Once while being fucked slowly enough to drive him insane, and the second time, after Justin had untied his legs for a moment so he could turn over, deep into Justin’s throat.


In the shower afterward, Brian had reciprocated Justin’s blowjob. He had held Justin a long time under the hot water. It was something he had been doing a lot since Justin’s return: Just hold him tightly, lovingly. Justin loved it. More than words, it told him how Brian felt.


Justin closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep cocooned in the arms of the man he loved.


Being awakened by a slick cock slowly breaching his ass was not something he would ever tire of. Brian’s lubed hand was milking his morning wood, Brian’s cock was filling his ass, Brian’s arms were around him, and Brian’s lips were kissing that spot below and behind his ear that always gave him goosebumps.


He didn’t even try to fight it. He let the pleasure rise, totally relaxed and passive, until it reached that point, and he closed his eyes on the sweet, bone melting orgasm that gently pulsed out of him.


“Oh, Justin,” whispered Brian, “you make me so happy.” He pushed his cock into Justin’s completely relaxed body as far as he could go, and he too let go, Justin feeling the rhythm of his release, and wishing it would be inside him, and not inside a condom.


It would have been very easy to slide back into sleep, but with perfect timing the alarm went off. Brian liked to be at work at the ungodly hour of seven, even if, like last Wednesday, they were at Essengy dancing until two, and came home to fuck for another hour. His caffeine addiction was starting to make sense…


So Justin was getting the reputation of an early riser in the Art Department. The good thing was that he left Plexus at noon, took a cab (oh! luxury…) to Pratt, and had well over an hour before his first class. He could do his homework, or prepare his station for painting after his classes.

 

 

Jason (and Brian), were coming at seven to see his latest creations. Two were very, very nice. He had first designed them on his computer a while back, but as he executed them, his feelings of the moment had overridden the carefully laid plans.


One was full of uncertainty, when despite the positive attitude of the therapist he was seeing, he had been afraid he never would feel strong again. The other was full of hope: he had started getting better, eating instead of drinking his dinner, and not having nightmares anymore.


The painting he’d had Jason sell as soon as it was dried had been very cathartic. His therapist had been right to tell him to put on canvas as much of his negative feelings as he could.


He had met his therapist through Todd who had hooked him up with a friend from work, a psychologist who helped people get over the trauma of whatever had brought on their paralysis, and then help them through the difficult adjustment of acceptance and renewed hope.


Justin’s first reaction to Todd’s idea had been very negative. The therapist’s name was Ethan… But Todd had dragged him to his first appointment, with the very plump, round nosed, smiling, balding, blond psychologist and Justin had stopped caring about his name.


At first, they had talked everyday. Unlike most “civilian” therapists, Ethan was used to intense trauma needing daily support, and had not even given Justin an alternative. After two weeks they had gone to every other day for another week, and then Ethan had given him his card and said, “Call me if you need to talk, day or night.”


Justin had called twice. The first time to help him resist the temptation to go back to Brian when he knew he needed a little more time, and the second the day he’d gone home, to make absolutely sure he was ready. He wondered how much longer it would have taken without Ethan’s help, without the outlet of his art…


Justin knew that the other two paintings he had to show were exceptional.


One was the portrait of Jessica, which he had started upon meeting her, and had worked on regularly. It was a gift for her, to thank her for her many kindnesses, her friendship, her chicken soup, her support. He loved that woman. The portrait was whimsical; Jessica dressed in a 1940’s glamour silver dress, with long green gloves, her diamond ring worn right over them. With her right hand, at chest level, she held a gorgeous apple by the stem, between her thumb and forefinger. In her left hand, down by her side in a relaxed position she had the scales of Justice, and a broad green ribbon that Lady Justice usually used as a blindfold.


She stood in a library, in front of a roaring fire. Out of a large many square paned window, one could see the branch of a blooming tree lit by the light of a high spring sun, yet the sky was dark, with stars and a quarter moon.


Every book in the library had the same title, though it could only be read on the three closest books: The Life of a Fascinating Woman, The Unauthorized Biography of Jessica Hammon. They were tomes 23, 24, 25, and there was the suggestion of hundreds of more tomes on the back wall.

 

 

Above the mantel of the fireplace was a portrait of Jason and one of Arthur Hammon from a picture that Justin had found on the internet. On the mantel was a small “picture” of himself, one of Brandon dancing, and one of Jessica the Bolshoi trained dance teacher.


At her feet were flowers, some loose, some in bouquets, like an actress would receive on opening night. Those had been there from the start of the portrait, long before Jessica’s newfound theater career…


He had captured her perfectly, if he said so himself, with that look on her face that drove Brian crazy: that of polite interest though you could somehow tell she was laughing at you.


He couldn’t wait to show it to Jason (and Brian).


The second painting’s title would mean nothing to either man: Life is Beautiful II.

 

 

This version of his burned painting was even better than the original. He had painted it the week before going home, and the hope, and joy, and love it depicted had been glowing in his heart, not a memory affected by his depression.


It would go in their home, replacing The Colors of my Heart. Jason was going to be very pissed that he could not sell it… It was by far the best thing Justin had ever done.

 

 

He couldn’t wait to show it to Brian (and Jason).


He set all four paintings on easels, and covered Jessica’s portrait with one of his painting smocks.

 

 

It was only 5:30. His classes finished at 5:00 on Mondays, so he put on another smock, brought out his cart of supplies and one of the prepared canvasses he had made during his internship, and started painting. He used to never paint spontaneously. The first time he had done so had been “The Kiss”.


But now, about half of his paintings came from a deep desire to get the colors onto the canvas, each color calling out for the next one, and each spontaneous painting requiring some cadmium based shade.

 

 

But the fist color calling to him was blue, a dark blue, like that of the early night, and just as transparent. Then it was another blue, still dark, but with green undertones, and still transparent, and another and another and another…


Completely absorbed in the process of creation, his back turned to the door, Justin didn’t notice when Brian arrived, a half an hour early, looking gorgeous in his beautiful Dior overcoat.


Brian had never seen him paint. Only sketch. He stood there, quietly, as if afraid any movement might stop the flow of creativity, until Jason who had no such qualms walked in.


“All right, Justin, show me what you got!” Justin did not stop what he was doing, continuing to apply the eighth or ninth shade of blue to the canvas.


“Oh! hello there, Mr. Kinney. I hadn’t noticed you there!”


Immediately, Justin stopped what he was doing to turn around. As ridiculous as it sounded, though they had last seen each other only twelve hours ago, he had been missing him. He laughed at himself. Brian was leaning against the door frame, looking as only Brian could. Justin smiled at him, took off his smock and walked into his arms, happy to see a smile on Brian’s lips that said he had missed him too.


“Should I come back later perhaps?” quipped Jason.


“Hello, Jason. How are you?” said Justin, grinning.


“In a hurry. I don’t have all night, you know. I have a wife at home I would like to hug… “


Justin laughed at him. “ All right! Look at these first, and then I will show you my surprise.”


Jason and Brian stood side by side, looking at the first painting, while Justin tried to ignore them and put his paints away. He looked at his new canvas. It looked like the sea, quiet and still, in the early morning. It was beautiful, peaceful, and brimming with his love for Brian. It was this morning lovemaking, surrendering to the sensation completely, in absolute trust.


Jason and Brian had moved to the second painting. Justin rolled his cart back to his cubby, opened his storage cabinet, and put his new painting safely away. It was a work in progress. He couldn’t wait to get back to it.


Jason and Brian had moved to the third painting.


“And this will be another gift for Mr. Kinney, I assume?”

 

 

“Yes, it is. But what makes you say that?”


“It has the same feel as The Kiss, and like The Kiss, it’s the best thing you have ever done…”


“It’s not Christmas,” said Brian, “and my birthday is a way off yet. Justin would not sell me The Kiss but I would be very glad to buy this one.”


“Brian, my contract says I can keep five paintings a year to do with as I please. You don’t have to buy it!”


“But if I buy it, it’s mine. If you just bring it home, it’s yours. This is the match to The Kiss. I want it.”


Brian came to hold Justin in his arms from behind, and whispered in his ear, “Please, Justin. It’s like when we fuck and I cannot help myself and say that you’re mine. Or when I am a little loose, and growl at guys at Essengy, 'My Sunshine, find your own.’ I want to own this. Our love, our life, our beautiful future. It’s all there. I want it. Please.”


Justin’s cock was as hard as a rock. Brian claiming him as his always aroused him like mad. He actually understood what Brian was saying, and with a smile, acquiesced.


“All right, Jason. Brian will buy it.”


Jason smiled. “Excellent. It’s $ 15000.”


“Jason!” said Justin, horrified.


“Justin, if you had had this one for sale in your show, I would have priced it at 20. You need to start getting used to the fact that your paintings are extraordinary. People would have fought over this one. Mr. Kinney is lucky.”


Brian had already written a check and handed it to Jason. He once again held Justin against himself from behind, and, bent to rest his head on Justin’s shoulder. He pointed to the painting and said, “Mine.” Justin couldn’t help but laugh.


“All right, then. Let’s see that surprise, shall we?”


“It’s a gift for your Eema, Jason. I just wanted to give you a preview.” Justin took off the smock, revealing the portrait. Brian and Jason both stood in front of it for the longest time, making Justin horribly self conscious.


“I want it,” said Jason. “I want to give it to her for her birthday. You have to sell it to me.”


Justin laughed. “Sorry. You’ll have to get her some perfume or something. This is a gift from me to her.”


“You don’t understand, Justin. My mother has had her portrait painted probably a dozen times, commissioned by her alma matter, by her parents, my father, and of course Arthur. She was always beautiful, and a great subject. Some of these portraits are very good. But none of them are portraits of my mother, the Eema that I know and love, with her quirky humor, her intelligence, her generosity, her amazing grace and charm. This is a portrait of my mother. And I want to give it to her. Because I love her, because I never apologized to her for cutting her out of my life for ten long years when I was young and stupid, because this more than anything will tell her that I know who she is and I adore her.“


He turned from the portrait back to Justin. “I will tell her you painted it for her as a gift. I will tell her I forced you to sell it to me. You can be there when she sees it for the first time, if you wish. But please, let me give it to her.”


Justin looked at Jason. He sighed, shrugged and said, “Sure.”


“How much?” asked Brian, a smile on his face.


Jason smiled back. “You set the price, Mr. Kinney.”


“$25000,” said Brian.


“Brian!”


“Sold,” said Jason. He grinned at Brian. ”I would have paid twice that.”


“So would I,” answered Brian, referring to A Beautiful Life.


They both laughed.


“You are both nuts” said Justin, shaking his head. “When is your Mother’s birthday?”


“Do you have to ask? February the 29th, of course. We will celebrate March 1st. It’s a Saturday. You are both invited. And please invite Mr. Bloomquist as well. I know she will love to have all her gorgeous man around.”


“Can Mr. Bloomquist bring his own gorgeous man to the celebration?” asked Justin.


“She will love it. She was worried he’d never get over you. She’ll be thrilled that he has found someone.”


Justin felt himself turn bright red. “Is there anything your mother doesn’t know?”


“Imagine what it was like growing up,” Jason answered with a grin.


“Do you think she’ll let me have her portrait back for the expo if I’m short?”


“For her favorite son, she will.”


“You have brothers?” Justin was surprised. He had always assumed Jason to be Jessica’s only child.


“No,” answered Jason, and he laughed. “Justin, all four paintings are splendid. Look how quickly you sold two of them… That blue thing you were doing looks like it’s going to be exquisite. It will be fourteen right?”


“Thirteen. Some friends are getting married,” said Justin. “I’m giving them the no name one I showed you two weeks ago.”


“Well, I'm sure if they hang it in their bedroom, it will do wonders for their sex life.” He laughed. “In a way, I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to hose down anybody in the middle of the gallery.”


Once again, Justin turned beet red. Maybe it wasn’t an appropriate wedding present after all…


“So thirteen. Four to go. You are doing splendidly, Justin. So I’ll call you with he details of my Mother’s birthday. Call me when you got four more to show me. I’ll wire the money for today’s sales into your account tonight. I’m pretty sure Mr. Kinney’s check will clear. See you!” He grabbed Jessica’s portrait and was out the door.


“That man is a whirlwind,” said Brian. “I like him.”


“Me too. He is incredibly kind to me. I call, he comes running. I’m pretty sure that is not part of his job. I’m amazed he has not told me off already. But even though he is in and out, he gives me a lot of confidence. Maybe that is why he is so kind. Because I'm the youngest of his clients. Can you believe he has a son older than me?”


Justin was putting away his paintings.


“Do you have the one you want to give to Emmett and Drew?”


“Yeah. Though after what Jason said, I am not so sure anymore… I have another one I’d like you to see also.”


He got out the New Year’s Eve one and the no name painting. Well, actually, he though of it as the Jerking off painting. He had done it after breaking down and jerking off thinking of himself and Brian fucking. He had come three times in less than an hour and had known the time to go home drew near. The next day, a Sunday, he had started on the canvas at eight in the morning, and stayed working on it until midnight. It was a wild thing, full of colorful explosions, on a cadmium yellow sky. He loved it.


The New Year’s Eve one he adored. It had been one of the best nights of his life. Friendship, love, laughter, dancing, fucking, making love, talking, goofing off, and feeling so precious to the man to whom he had given his heart. It was all there on the canvas.


Brian looked at the first one and said: “Yes. They definitely need to have this in their bedroom. Emmett will love it. And I sure hope you were thinking of me when you painted it…”


Justin laughed. “Oh, definitely. It does have a name, but I guess I should change it. It’s called Jerking off…”


“Yes.” Brian chuckled. “You might want to think up something else.”


“How about… Dichotomy, in 9 letters?”


Brian laughed. “Perfect. It will never make any sense, but they’ll stare at the painting trying to find the dichotomy, get horny, and fuck like rabbits. The ideal wedding gift.”


He moved on to look at New Year’s Eve. Brian said it was wonderful and Justin could hear he was sincere. But after Justin had put the canvas away again, Brian held him in his arms, and confessed softly that in his own heart, it paled in comparison to its repeat, last Wednesday.


Once again sharing the intimacy of lovemaking with friends, knowing that like Justin’s love was returned to him, so was Brandon’s friendship.


Going to Essengy afterward and being there with them, dancing, goofing off, growling at tricks about his Sunshine.


Fucking in parallel in the lounge, almost shoulder to shoulder with Brandon, his hands all over Justin, caressing him, loving him, soothing him, relaxing him from his nervousness of being seen so vulnerable in public, and all four of them coming within seconds of each other.


Coming home and fucking in the shower, changing the sheets, but instead of going to sleep, talking softly in the dark about the month gone by, about missing each other, about love and never wanting to be apart again, and making love one last time, gently, sweetly, lovingly, kissing each other the whole time.


Listening to Brian, Justin had never felt so loved in his life. They held each other for a while, until Justin kissed Brian’s jaw and said, ”Let’s go home.”


They took a taxi back to the loft. It was barely nine o’clock, but Justin kept yawning and had a hard time keeping his eyes open. Brian called to order Thai food, and held him in his arms all the way back, like when they used to ride back to the brownstone from Essengy. They ate, Justin with a fork, sitting down at the bar, eating off of a plate, Brian standing across from him, eating with chopsticks right out of the cardboard boxes.


They spoke about the Greenbabies diaper presentation Brian had made that morning. The client had loved the idea, and signed up on it despite the steep price. Now they would cooperate together again with Adam, Spaz, and Steven and Chris who were no doubt going to curse them for having to work with a bunch toddlers…


The meal over, Justin flossed and brushed and stripped naked. He couldn’t imagine wearing anything to bed that would stand between his and Brian’s skin. He needed to sleep, and knew it was much too early for Brian to join him. Maybe Brian would even go out. Justin went to the living room to say good night. Brian had taken off his work clothes and was wearing his white undershirt and some sweats. He was sitting at his desk, working on his laptop.


“Brian, I’m for bed… Are you just going to work or are you going out?”


“Just work. I can’t be bothered going out again.”


“Uh… Would you be comfortable working in bed?”


“Sure. Here, take my laptop, I’ll get a couple of extra pillows from the guest bed and join you.”


Brian took off his clothes and made himself comfortable for a couple hours of work on the computer. Justin smiled at him and kissed his shoulder.


“Good night, Brian.”


“Good night, Sunshine.”


A minute later, Justin giggled having had a funny thought.


“What?”


“You’ve got your laptop, you’ve got your blond next to you, all you need is a Secton watch…”


The last sound Justin heard before falling asleep was Brian’s laughter, and that was very nice.



To be continued...

 

You must login (register) to review.