Sunshine's Sunday

Finally the yellow layer was dry. He felt as if all day he’d done nothing but wait for the paint to dry. Which was bullshit of course. He had also prepared two more canvases, organized his cart, chatted with Lilah… But all that was filling time while the paint dried…

He did not really want to start another painting at the same time as he worked on this one. That had been mostly possible when he worked on Jessica’s portrait, because it was so different than anything else he was doing, had ever done, and was ever likely to do.

This painting was the closest he would ever get again to a portrait probably, and only the few people who knew him might sense Brandon in it. There was beauty, there was love, there was raw sexual power, there was grace, but mostly and overwhelmingly there was barely contained feral strength.

Not what one would expect of a painting inspired by a ballet dancer. But Justin knew the man behind the hyper-refined mask, who treated fragile, lithe ballerinas like precious crystals. The man capable of doing one handed push ups and pull ups, in absolute control of a body trained to its maximum abilities, who could use that body like a weapon. Watching him dance, people might see the grace of a crane, or a swan. Justin saw through the appearances. What he saw was a jaguar.

The vermillion was brighter than fresh blood. In Justin’s mind it was the color of strength. It was a difficult color to work with. So dominant, so vibrant, so opaque, which was why it was perfect here. It was also highly toxic since he was working with the now little utilized mercury sulphide. The accents on the dove grey and on the lemon yellow were shocking. The contrast would mellow when he added the next color. It would be aquamarine dissolved in a lot of turpentine and a little varnish. The grey would go bluish grey, like smoke, ethereal, and the yellow would go pale celadon green, the color of these ultra fragile antique Japanese porcelains. The vermillion, he hoped, would come through a little more brown, like a shadow of itself, the strength behind the appearances. That was the plan anyway, and he would not find out UNTIL THE PAINT DRIED! Then would come the sienna, earth, root, immutable. Everything seemed to take so long today. Lilah was laughing at him, asking him why he was in such a hurry. He smiled. She was right.

He went back to the computer, and to the painting he had planned on making when he had first arrived. He liked it, he really did, so how it had gotten derailed to this completely different painting, he had no idea.

Why not start this one as well after all? He would paint both in parallel. The originally planned one, and the one ‘appropriated’ by Brandon. That’s what he would do. He had painted abstracts and the portrait together because they were so different. He could paint these two together because they were born of the same design.

He got a new 4X4 blank canvas, and started with the base of ultramarine. He did not let himself be tempted by the charcoal black or the titanium white this time. He spread the blue over the entire surface in a smooth even layer, the pigment perfectly even. By the time he was done, the vermillion on the first painting had dried.

More ultramarine, turpentine, varnish. A thin transparent coat over the surface of the first painting. The grey did turn blue grey, and the yellow the desired pale fragile looking green. The vermillion explosions were mellowed to an easier color, and he let it dry again.

Back to the computer. To follow his earlier designed model the next color he needed was turquoise. He hesitated between phtalo turquoise and cobalt turquoise, and decided for phthalo, as the cobalt turquoise could look almost teal, a color he disliked. There was not much needed. He was shocked when in the middle of painting, he got a feeling of wrongness.

The turquoise accents were delicate, beautiful, but he took a cloth dipped in turpentine and cleaned them up. He told Lilah what was happening.

“…It’s so weird. It just felt all wrong.”

“Take a break. Come here and tell me what you think.”

He looked at Lilah’s painting, and smiled. It was nice, intricate swirls of colors, snail shaped or curlycues, with red, turquoise, orange. It didn’t mean anything but it was beautiful and visually entertaining.

“I like it.”

“I do too, except it looks like a scarf design an artist from the sixties would have rendered while on acid.”

Justin burst out laughing. It was totally true.

“I am not a true artist, Justin. I cannot make my canvas make the viewer feel something like you do, though we will agree that that is your unique gift. Even without that. I like pretty colors, and pretty pictures. I’m an illustrator, at best. I’ll never make a living from my “art”. I’ll own a gallery, because I have a knack for knowing what’s good and what will sell. On the side I’ll illustrate children’s books, design material for ties, and have six red headed babies with Max. And I’ll be disgustingly happy.” She smiled.

Justin agreed with her. “Maybe you can still paint as a hobby and come keep me company in my studio…”

She grinned. “I can come and illustrate in your studio. I’ll need a place to get away from the six kids… Ok. Show me what you got.”

They moved to Justin’s painting. “Wow. That’s the second time you’ve done this with the varnish. In the Summertime one you made everything golden, and here, you hid everything in the shadows. Is that true vermillion? Isn’t it amazing how opaque it is? What color wash did you use to make the light go away?”

“I didn’t think of it that way, but you are right. It looks cast in shadow, now. I used aquamarine.”

“Are you going to add more, like in Summertime?”

“Yes. Sienna. And probably a bunch of others as well.”

Then she looked at the new painting, and at the computer plan for it that was giving Justin so much trouble.

“That’s nice,” she said. “You’d done the turquoise and it felt wrong?”

“Well, not all of it. About a third, maybe. OK. I’ll get back to work on the other one. It’s probably dry.”

She smiled. “You’re so excited about that one.”

He walked to his first painting. It was dry, ready for the sienna. He extruded some sienna onto his palette and picked up a brush, biting his lower lip. He needed light touches at the bottom of the painting. He started. The color was perfect, exactly what he’d had in mind, and he worked quickly, his hand motions smooth, even, perfectly controlled. He got completely absorbed in it…Next time he looked up it was getting dark. Where had the time gone? The sienna was on. He loved it.

He went back to the new painting, and looked at the computer model. There was vermilion red here too, a small square of it in the upper right hand corner. He added a bit of turpentine to the vermillion red left on his palette, and put some on his brush. He looked at the beautiful base of deep blue, and just couldn’t do it. It just felt wrong.

He got out his sketchpad, and sat to the side of Lilah, who was absorbed in her work. He sketched her profile quickly, the tip if her tongue between her lips, her wild hair, her freckles. He went back to his painting, and once again, thought about the turquoise and the red. No. Definitely not. He washed the vermillion and the turquoise off the brushes and off the palette, closed his computer, and looked at the field of aquamarine.

What it needed was white, pure white, titanium white. He got some out, and added it to the beautiful blue surface tapping it on with a round hard bristled brush. Zinc oxide white was next, white as well of course, but with a different depth, a thin, thin line followed the titanium white like lace, delineating the separation between the blue and the white. It was delicate, intricate work, and he loved every second of it.

He smiled. So far, it looked like a piece of that well known Japanese painting of a wave, magnified twenty times. It just called for cadmium yellow. He added some to the upper left corner. Lovely spirals with intertwined dots, like flowers hanging.

He went back to his painting of Brandon. Well, not Brandon, obviously, since it was totally abstract. He felt it was getting close, the strength hidden, shadowed behind the apparent delicacy, but with balance, rooted. It needed a touch of turquoise between the blue grey, and the pale green. The color of Bandon’s eyes, that time when Justin had almost kissed him, a window to his soul.

Not without apprehension, he extruded a small amount of phthalo turquoise on his palette again. It was a touch too green, and he added some cobalt blue. Then he dipped his brush in it, and added it to the canvas, looking as if it was ripping through the grey and the green. Perfect. Something was still missing, but he was tired and it was getting late. He set the canvas in his cubby to dry.

He looked at his new painting. It had promise. Already he could feel the call of a rich orange and a glossy green. Was this the only way he would ever be able to paint now? Just driven by the colors at the moment of creation? Was that the problem? Was it just this particular design that just didn’t work for him anymore or was it all his computer-designed paintings he would have to abandon?

He tried to remember when he had planned this particular one. He looked it up. July. Hm. That didn’t ring any bells. Oh, well. He packed everything up. He would not be painting tomorrow. Brian and he were going to Gillian’s. Wax, manicure, pedicure, dinner, pool, and dancing Brian had said. Suddenly the idea of going to the orgy room afterward to fuck turned him on so much he felt himself blush. Well, it shouldn’t be too hard convincing Brian…

Justin looked at the time. It was almost eight. He wondered if Brian was going out tonight.

“Lilah, put your stuff away. It’s time to go. I’m going to get a cab. I’ll drop you off, OK?”

“Cool!”

Justin dialed the loft. The phone was busy. That’s right. The Sunday night ‘Get high, talk and watch a movie with Mikey’ ritual. Justin smiled. He called a cab.

When he entered the loft, and quietly put his shoes and coat in the entry closet. The smell of pot was pretty pervasive and it wasn’t even nine yet. The lights were off except for the egg shaped floor one by the couch in the TV area and the low lights in the bedroom. Brian was watching Planet of the Apes the original, with Charlton Heston, that homophobic gun loving prick, the phone to his ear, saying “Uhuh,” once in a while. Justin tried to sneak by to not interrupt, but Brian sensed him, turned around and smiled.

“Sunshine just came home. Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.” Brian put the phone on the couch next to him and gestured for Justin to come over. Smiling, Justin complied, dropping his bag on the stairs to the bedroom. Brian raised his arms in a gesture so similar to Gus’s asking for a hug that Justin chuckled.

He walked around the loveseat, and complied with Brian's mute demand, kneeling on the couch and giving him a hug, Brian holding him tight, his hand in Justin’s hair. He went to kiss Brian, but Brian whispered, “No. Pot. Funky breath.” Justin giggled, and Brian caressed his face, smiling. Justin got up again and Brian picked the phone back up. “I’m back. What did I miss?”

Justin had some reading to do for school. He went and took a quick shower mostly to make sure all the toxic vermillion was off his hands. He noticed a longish curly brown hair on the shower floor and rinsed it down the drain. He got out. There were two more of those hairs by the sink. Puzzled, he picked them up with a piece of toilet paper and flushed them down the toilet. Neither Brian nor he had hair loss problems, and they both cleaned up after themselves anyway.

Oh, dear god. He knew this hair. Ethan. Ethan had been at the loft this afternoon (or was it morning?) He’d completely forgotten. He could totally picture what had happened. Brian, getting in the shower; Ethan, thinking the shower bit was an invitation, coming in to join him. He could just imagine Brian’s reaction… He grinned.

He wished he’d been a fly on the wall. How long had it taken from there to the moment Brian slammed the door on his waddling ass? Ten minutes? Justin laughed to himself. Poor Brian. Attacked in the shower by Justin’s horny ex-boyfriend… He deserved some kind of compensation.

Justin put in a nipple ring, grabbed some lube and went back to the TV area, completely nude. Brian looked at him, a bit surprised, but eyes shining.

“I’m sure he’ll get over it. There’ll be other girls, smarter ones…”

Brian and Mikey were talking about Hunter. Justin and Hunter e-mailed all the time. He knew about the break up already. Hunter seemed philosophical about it. He blocked Brian’s conversation from his mind and put the tube of lube on top of the TV.

He started running his hands up and down his naked torso, moving to the slow beat of Paula Cole’s Feelin' Love playing in his head, caressing himself, playing with the nipple ring he had just put back in, caressing his thighs. Brian’s eyes were following his hands. Justin added some lube to his right hand, and started playing with his hardening cock, still caressing himself with his left, losing himself in it, closing his eyes, feeling Brian’s heated gaze like another hand on his body. Then, staring right at Brian, and licking his lips, he started jerking off, his cock going up and down through his fist.

Then he smiled his sexiest smile, and walked sensuously over to the loveseat. He put his crotch close enough to Brian’s face that he knew Brian could smell his scent, his arousal. He ran his left hand down Brian’s body, all the way to his jeans. Brian was nice and hard. He opened the fly and was surprised to find underwear. He lowered both on the long sexy legs and removed them. He took himself in hand again and made sure Brian could see him pleasure himself as he bend down and took Brian’s lovely erection in his mouth.

Justin loved Brian’s dick. He suckled the head, played with the slit, circled the glans with his tongue. Some precome oozed out and he sucked on that hungrily. He took Brian's cock as deep as he could into his mouth, about a third down, and moved up and down a few times. Brian’s hand was in his hair, caressing it. He looked up at Brian. His eyes were riveted on Justin’s own cock, which he was still milking in his fist. He relaxed his throat and swallowed Brian down until his nose was in his pubic hair. Brian hissed in pleasure. Mikey must have said something, because he replied, “Yes, there was not much else you could have said, but still…” Mikey had taken the hiss as disapproval. Oops.

Better finish this off. Justin bobbed his head happily, working Brian’s cock in and out of his throat, and sped up his fist to the same rhythm, running his thumb through his own precome. Fuck. He never jerked himself off while blowing Brian, and he now realized how arousing doing so was… He was very close. He looked up at Brian, who was licking and biting his lips, still staring at his hand, at the pink head of his cock slipping in and out of his fist. He really got off on watching Justin jerk off.

About to come, Justin took Brian’s whole length in again and purred, as he shot spunk all over Brian’s leg. Two seconds later, Brian’s entire body stiffened, and he came deep down Justin’s throat, eyes closed, letting out a sound that sounded like a growl. His body relaxed as Justin milked the last drop of come into his mouth by tightening his lips around the shaft on the way up. Hummm…

“…I just stubbed my fucking toe on the coffee table, that’s what. I was getting up for another water, and all the lights are off…. Justin? He’s asleep already. We get up at 5:00 you know… Because I like to be at work at 7:00, that’s why… About a half hour. We leave the loft at 6:30… No, it doesn’t take an hour and a half to get ready, Mikey… What do you think we do? We fuck… Yes, every morning… Sometimes we fuck again in the shower. Some days we hardly make it out the door on time…Well if you don’t want to hear it, don’t fucking ask!... What do you mean why don’t we fuck in the evening instead? Of course we fuck in the evening… yes, and in the morning, and often in the afternoon too!... Oh, for fuck's sake, Mikey, nature gave you a dick. Use it!”

During his entire speech, Brian had been watching as Justin cleaned his leg with his tongue, looking right at him. Brian's cock was getting hard again already, but Justin put Brian’s underwear back on and answered the raised eyebrows by whispering directly in his ear, “Keep talking to Mikey. I’ve got to study.” He was straightening back up when Brian caught his arm. Justin looked at him questioningly. Brian just stared at him for a few moments, rolling in his lips, his eyes full of love, then he blinked and smiled, and went back to Mikey.

Justin did his required reading. It was almost 10:00. He should go to sleep… But he wanted to sketch the expression on Brian’s face while Justin had been licking the come off his leg. He put away his book, took out his pad, and pencil, and drew quickly. He was getting hard just remembering the nascent lust in the hazel eyes. He almost jerked off again, but didn’t. The feeling of slight arousal was nice and there was the accumulated lack of sleep he had been working on eliminating. He needed rest. He drank the bottle of Evian he had by the bed, curled up under the blanket and concentrated on Brian’s voice. He did not pay attention to the words, just enjoyed the tone and rhythm of his lover’s speech. Soon he was asleep.

He woke up for an instant when a warm body cuddled behind his. He smiled, and went right back to sleep again.

*****

Monday started in the best possible way, with Brian waking him up by gently positioning him and eating his ass for a really long time, while caressing his cock, then fucking him into the mattress. Living with Brian was so, so great…

In the cab, Brian told him about Ian’s “misread signals” and Justin laughed with him. He was grateful Brian didn’t ask stupid questions such as, ’What attracted you to this guy?’ It felt like it was a lifetime ago, and he really couldn’t even explain it to himself anymore.

“He thought he could get you back,” said Brian, watching Justin’s expression above his coffee cup.

Justin didn’t answer. He just smiled at Brian, as sexy and loving a smile as he could produce. Brian smiled back, apparently fully satisfied by that non-verbal response.

At work, he spend three hours, drawing the different takes and take angles of a commercial storyboard for Paul, guided by Spaz the whole time. He really loved working with the cameraman, who in turn couldn’t help but rave how quickly Justin could make his description come alive on paper. Justin was even getting good at translating Spaz speech, not the easiest task, dude…. When he was finished, he made copies and slid the original sketches in an interoffice envelope to send them to Paul. Spaz high fived him, and went back to the basement, taking the copies with him.

The rest of the morning he was able to work on the computer, designing the Haberdasher’s campaign. It was a montage of actors and other celebrities wearing hats. He chose each image carefully, making sure it was obvious the hat, in that particular frame, made the man. He felt people would love looking at it and try to identify all the faces, spending a huge amount of time, comparatively speaking, exposed to the haberdasher’s name and address which separated the frames. The eyes would not notice it, but the brain would absorb the information.

At noon, he got ready to go for his run, but he also really wanted to see Brian. This was a slippery slope. They could not let their relationship interfere with their work. Also, a little absence made the heart grow fonder. They lived together, commuted in together, went out together, talked on the phone all the time. Talk about overexposure… Surely, at this rate, at some point they would get sick of each other.

But he didn’t know what time they were meeting at Gillian’s. He grinned at the totally and pathetically transparent excuse. Fuck it.

“Cynthia? Hi, it’s Justin.”

“Hey, Justin. How’s life?”

“Really good. Is Brian in an appointment or do you think I could disturb him for a few minutes?”

“He’s just working. He should be going to the Gym momentarily. I’ll tell him you’re on your way up. Just make sure he doesn’t cancel his afternoon, or I’d have to kill you.”

Justin laughed. “I really just want to talk to him for a few minutes. We’ll leave the door open…”

“Please don’t. You know as well as I do that that would not stop him…”

She smiled at him when he knocked on Brian’s door, which opened almost immediately as he was pulled by his sweatshirt into a heated kiss. Then Brian, eyes dancing, backed away and asked in his most professional voice.

“Taylor? What can I do for you?”

Justin loved Brian’s playful mood.

“Mr. Kinney, I was just checking to see if you had more information for me regarding our evening project.”

“I do indeed. Your blow job is at six, mine at six-thirty. Please be punctual.”

“Yes, sir. I will be.” Justin grinned. “I can’t believe I am looking forward to a wax…”

Brian grinned back. “Hey, Steven called. They want to take us out next Saturday, to a regular pool bar. They feel we won through underhanded means.” Brian chuckled. “He said they had an amazing time at Gillian’s and though they wouldn’t do it every week, it was definitely worth the trip. They ended up having breakfast in the restaurant with the twins at 5:00 in the morning…“ Brian wrapped Justin in his arms again. Justin could hear the slow thumping of Brian’s heart, smell the Decleor lotion through his shirt, feel the strength in the body of the man holding him.

Speaking quietly into Justin’s hair, Brian said, “I was actually kind of hoping to convince you to follow the dancing part of our evening plan with a little bit of Orgy room fucking. What do you say?”

“I think I could put up with it… considering I’ve been thinking the same…I’d better go if I want any kind of a run.”

“I’m on my way to the Gym. Why don’t you come with me and check it out? You can afford it these days.”

“Well, I really only have an hour, which is perfect for a forty minute run and a shower. I wouldn’t have time for more, even if I paid for the gym. If we ever want to work out together, on the weekend, or whatever, we can always go to Gillian’s.”

Brian looked at him and smiled. “Sunshine, you are so wise. Have a good run. I’ll see you at Gillian’s.”

Justin cracked up. “I can’t believe I’m looking forward to a wax…”

This is Lilah's painting.