The dark green corvette pulled into the curb in front of the three-story wood frame house, it's engine purring with a subdued hum. The driver turned off the ignition swiftly, stifling the noise, and pushed open the door. A warm brown Gucci loafer emerged from the depths of the car, followed in rapid succession, by a well proportioned calf clothed in smoky grey wool, a lanky but well muscled thigh and then the remaining body parts of the always nattily dressed Brian Kinney. The man shut and locked the car door, then casually sauntered down the sidewalk and up the brick pathway to the front of the house. He turned the knob of the old-fashioned brass ringer positioned in the center of the front door and waited patiently for someone to welcome him inside.
As he waited, he caught himself unconsciously humming the melody to his new favorite tune. "You are my sunshine . . ." When he thought about how truly lesbionic he was acting, he groaned and tried to actively suppress all knowledge of the horribly corny song, the several hundred dollars he had spent on a ridiculous billboard and all memories of himself acting in any manner that could be considered 'romantic'. He firmly reminded himself that Brian Kinney didn't DO romance or boyfriends or anything remotely resembling corny and any recent actions to the contrary must have been some drug induced aberration which would definitely NOT be repeated.
Finally satisfied that he had his unseemly emotions under control, he turned his thoughts towards the present. He was happily anticipating spending the evening with the Munchers and Gus. He willingly acknowledged that Lindsey was a pretty good cook and that dinner was likely to be enjoyable, even if Mel was going to be there. Plus, there was the added bonus of getting to spend time admiring his son, something that he found, to his surprise, he never got tired of. In addition, he had a secret ulterior motive for tonight's visit that, he hoped, would turn out to be eminently pleasurable. The front door was pulled open at that moment, interrupting any further speculation.
"Bri, come on in," Lindsey chimed. "You have perfect timing, as always. Melanie just put the steaks on the grill and I just took the Sauvignon Blanc out of the fridge. Will you pour us all a glass?"
"Sure, as soon as you point me towards the real alcohol. Where's the Beam?" Brian responded with an obligatory smirk.
"Sorry, Bri. You'll have to settle for drinking wine with the rest of the adults tonight. Unless you want to share some of Gus' formula?" she teased.
"Glug, glug, glug!" was all Brian said as he spied the baby and hurried over to lift his boy out of the basinet resting on the coffee table. "Hey, Sonny Boy", he crooned at the baby, completely forgetting about pouring any type of drinks. He stood in the center of the room, peering down at the alert but quiet little face, involuntarily rocking back and forth and humming. When he realized, once again, that the melody he was humming was a certain forbidden and very corny tune, he quashed the humming abruptly, but did not put down the gurgling bundle.
Meanwhile, Lindsey and Mel were bustling about getting the table set and the food put out. Brian meandered around, enjoying the peaceful time with Gus. He noted that in one corner of the living room, the furniture had been moved away from the wall and Linds had apparently begun painting a mural of some kind in the spot. Examining the incomplete art work, he could see what appeared to be the beginning of a floral scene with a large vine snaking up from the baseboard towards the ceiling, and at the bottom two very small handprints placed next to the vine mixed in with a spattering of leaves.
Brian asked, "What's this, over here, Linds?"
"Oh, it's going to be a growth chart for Gus. Every six months or so we'll use his hands to put additional prints on the vine to give a representation of how tall he's getting. I saw the idea in a parenting magazine at the OB's office and just loved it. If you like, I can do one for you at the loft, too," she offered enthusiastically. Noting the new dad's hesitation, though, she quickly added, "I could paint it in some out-of-the way spot so it won't ruin the ambiance for when you have company. Maybe over on the side wall of the kitchen?" she offered.
"Whatever," was the unenthusiastic reply, but Lindsey knew from his forced nonchalance that Brian was actually not opposed to the idea. Lindsey mentally made plans to start on the project for her friend as soon as possible.
Forty-five minutes later, Brian pushed himself back from the dining table, replete and content. The steaks had been, as expected, perfectly cooked to a cool medium rare, the salad and other side dishes were filling and, as directed, virtually carb-free, and even the girly white wine had been decent. The baby had been put to sleep in his crib upstairs before dinner began. So now it was just him and the Munchers and Brian decided to lauch the first step of his plan.
"How did your art show turn out the other night," he casually asked of his friend.
"Fabulous. We made over $4,000 for the child care center," Lindsey replied. "And how did the show turn out for you? I did see you leaving with a certain hot young blond artist, didn't I?" Lindsey prompted, curious about the coupling since the young Mr. Taylor was not Brian's usual type.
"Fabulous! Of Course," was Brian's retort. He was not phased at all by the turn the conversation was taking. He knew Lindsey thought she was goading him by mentioning his most recent sexual escapade. Little did she know, though, that he'd intended to steer the discussion in this direction from the start. "Speaking of artists, I wanted to see if you could give me that kid's contact info. What was his name . . . Tyler? . . . or something. I had a client who saw the kid's drawing hanging in my office and really liked it. He wanted to see what else the guy had - he's some kind of art collector and said he was always buying stuff from young artists hoping to cash in later if they ever hit the big time," Brian prevaricated.
Lindsey was about to answer Brian's question as nonchalantly as it had been posed, but hesitated briefly as she caught a certain unfamiliar gleam in the man's eyes. It brought to mind Brian's out-of-character actions the night of the show - how insistent he'd been to find out who the artist of the drawing was and to locate him. 'Something more than meets the eye is going on here,' Lindsey thought. The corners of her lips turned up slightly as she deviously thought up a way to get a little more information out of the man who thought he was being so cunning.
"It's Taylor - Justin Taylor. But I don't think I have his contact information. I'm not sure how the Center found him. You might have to talk to Eleanor and find out if she knows where to get a hold of him," she egged him on, mercilessly. Lindsey knew how much Brian loathed the pushy Director of the center.
"Are you sure you don't have it? I really wanted to talk to him right away," the man asked again with a hint of anxiety in his tone.
Lindsey had to suppress a chuckle as Brian's overeager response gave him away completely. "Oh, wait. Maybe I do . . . yes," she said as she got up and rummaged through the small secretary desk in the corner. "I remembered that he did give me one of his cards when he was drawing that wonderful portrait of Gus and me," she relented and walked over to give Brian the business card she'd found in the desk.
Brian was hoping the relief he felt wasn't visible on his face as he reached up to accept the card from Lindsey. He had been hoping to find the other man this very night, as soon as he left the Muncher's. The momentary set back had threatened to ruin his plans. He was grateful, then, when his friend had finally remembered the treasured card.
"Great," was his only response (out loud at least - inside he was mentally jumping for joy and pumping his fist in the air in celebration). He glanced briefly at the card and noted the address on the front was way out in some god-awful hetero suburb, but decided that even that couldn't stop him. "Well, I'd better get going," he commented as he stood up and headed straight for the door. "Kiss Gus good-bye for me. Later." And he was out the door before either Lindsey or Mel could get another word in.
"What bug got up his ass," Mel complained at Brian's abrupt departure.
"Maybe it was a 'Love Bug'," Linds joked as she langourously reached up from her seat on the couch, grabbing her partner's hips and pulling the other woman down to join her in a passionate embrace.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Brian still had a self-satisfied smirk on his countenance as he drove slowly down the suburban street twenty minutes later, thinking about how adroitly he had worked the situation with Lindsey, and totally unaware that this time the player had been played. All Brian was thinking about was that he was going to get the best of both worlds! Now that HIS Sunshine (or at least the one living in his loft two years in the future) was doing better and no longer cowering in the loft unable to function, Brian felt free to go find a little local Sunshine. Nothing like getting your cake and eating too, right? Only cake wasn't what he wanted to be eating right this minute. He was more in the mood for eating Justin's sweet, perky little ass. He couldn't help groaning a little at the mere thought and felt his dick stirring in anticipation.
It was only 8:30, and it was a Friday night, so he calculated it wasn't too late to pay a social call, even in the WASPy world of the 'burbs. He didn't immediately get out of his car, though, when he parked in front of the address on the business card. His plan was working perfectly - except that he hadn't really planned this far in advance. He had no idea what to say to THIS Justin now that he knew how to find him.
After their tryst in the park the other night, the boy had reacted a little . . . Brian wasn't sure how to describe it, but Justin's actions had left him a bit uneasy. That was probably why he'd waited a full week to pursue the man further. That and the fact that he'd been oddly reluctant to simply ask HIS Justin for the man's former address. He'd known that Justin had been disconcerted by the strange way events had played out and, considering the man's frightening reaction, Brian hadn't wanted to press him. Besides, it felt wrong somehow to ask his lover how to find this 'other man' (even if the other man was him - just in another lifetime) just so that Brian could get a little action, while HIS Justin, trapped in the future, had no way to do the same. It felt like 'cheating' - not that Brian acknowledged that he was in any kind of 'relationship', but it still felt a little wrong. Even though, that night in the park, it had felt so very, very right.
Recalling that night, he once again wondered what it had been, exactly, that had left him so unsure of the response he'd get tonight when he approached Justin here in 1999. Brian remembered the feeling of utter satisfaction he'd felt lying on that pile of leaves with Justin as they both labored to slow their heart beats and recover their breath. His brain hadn't yet recovered, so he wasn't really thinking anything at the time, he was just happily wallowing in the feeling of post-coital bliss that had washed over him. He could still remember the warmth of the silky, smooth skin pressed against his side and the weight of the other man's leg draped over his thigh, their bodies still entwined. He could almost smell the scent of earth and crushed leaves combined with the musk of sex and sweat that had pervaded their hidden little nest. He was hard again just thinking about how his hand had lazily traced patterns on the younger man's stomach and chest while his other arm, wedged beneath Justin's neck, had played with the glossy blond locks.
But then, long before Brian had been ready to stir, Justin had pulled away and precipitously begun gathering his clothing, dressing and preparing to leave. Brian hadn't expected such abrupt action, so he simply lay there watching the boy, slightly disappointed. Justin had seemed to be avoiding looking at Brian as he gathered his things - this shy Justin was equally unexpected and not what Brian wanted from his lover. He'd silently reminded himself once again, though, that this Justin didn't really know him. He admitted that the wonderful encounter they'd just shared might be a little disconcerting to Justin seeing as, from the boy's perspective, he had just engaged in this intimate act with a complete stranger in the midst of a public park. This Justin was young and mostly inexperienced (at the time Brian hadn't known just HOW inexperienced the boy was) and probably just a little freaked out, Brian acknowledged. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so unusual that Justin had pretty much bolted as soon as they were done.
That being said, Brian had still experienced a momentary pang of rejection, as the stunning young man had hesitantly leaned down, deposited a brief and relatively chaste kiss on the reclining brunet's lips and quickly whispered, "thank you. You were amazing." Then, without saying anything further, Justin had hastily retreated before Brian had even located all of his clothing.
So here he was, sitting outside Justin's house, after pursuing this circuitous path to find out the boy's location, and he had no idea how to work this. As he sat and stewed, mired in indecision, another car drove up and parked behind him. The sound of a blaring stereo with ear-shattering bass pounding into the night was accompanied by the sound of slamming car doors and riotous laughter as three teens piled out of the car and jumbled en masse up the walkway to the door. Within seconds of the door bell being rung, the front door was pulled open and Brian could see a bright blond head emerge, instantly being engulfed in the crowd of boisterous youth. Brian could only catch brief glimpses of Justin amidst the others as they moved his way. Laughing, joking and playfully shoving one another, the group returned to the car where the pounding music still beat, poured themselves back into the vehicle and then the car was pulling out from the curb and speeding off into the night.
A stunned and silent Brian contemplated what his next action should be. Maybe coming here tonight had not been such a good idea. He sighed. A nineteen year-old Justin, who had lived a little already, who was attending college and who had survived a tragedy that had matured him beyond his years was one thing. Brian thought he knew that man - he cared about that man and knew him through their letters to be someone he was more than compatible with. A loud, seventeen year-old Justin who just wanted to party with his friends and who Brian didn't really know at all, was something completely different. While his dick was telling him, 'fuck it - it doesn't matter, you still want him,' Brian's heart was telling him this was not the right time.
Fuck it all! Time was turning out to be a huge fucking problem in Brian Kinney's life.