Justin smiled brightly when he heard Brian wolf-whistle behind him.

"Damn, you look hot," Brian said as walked up behind Justin and put his hands on the blonde's slender hips. The men were standing in front of the large mirror in the bathroom, both dressed in Armani suits- Justin in the black one he chose that morning and Brian in a dark grey one. "You clean up very nicely, Sunshine. Too bad we have to be at dinner in an hour, or I'd rip this right off of you..."

Justin felt Brian press his semi-hard dick into his lower back. "Will you let me wear it in public once before you rip my brand new, expensive suit... that you paid big bucks for?" Justin asked as he smiled back at Brian's reflection.

Brian spun Justin around to straighten the knot of his tie. "You did a good job with this; I wouldn't have guessed that you'd know how to tie a tie."

"Please, I had to wear a tie every day to school. I was stuck in a private penitentiary for twelve years."

"Wow... I'm so happy my broke-ass parents couldn't afford to send me to a private school," Brian said. "It was hard enough being a fag at a public school."

Justin raised a hand to fix a few stands of Brian's hair that were out of place and asked, "So, are you going to tell me who this big mystery client is that I will have to suffer through a ludicrously expensive meal with and watch you kiss the ass of tonight?"

Brian tapped his fingers over the lapels of Justin's suit jacket. "Why don't you take a wild guess."

"Armani?" Justin asked, his eyes wide.

"Ding ding ding. I've given them enough of my money over the past several years, and it's time they pay me back," Brian said as he turned to walk into the bedroom.

"The people at the store were drooling all over me... I knew it wasn't just because I'm cute," Justin said as he followed Brian.

"They shouldn't know that I'm meeting with their U.S. reps. They were fawning over you because they knew that I am rarely out of there for less than ten thousand dollars, and you were there on my tab... and because you're cute," Brian said, smiling. "Of course, one of my contingencies with the deal will be to get their new seasonal collections for free before they go out in stores."

Justin took his new cell phone and wallet off of the dresser and put them in his pockets. "So, do you only wear Armani? Cause I peeked into your closet earlier, and..."

"No, I wear several different brands: Prada, Gucci, Hugo Boss... but don't tell the Armani guys that tonight, huh?" Brian said, cupping Justin's chin and giving him a tender kiss.

 Justin was sitting in a booth next to Brian, reading the menu at the upscale French restaurant Le Bernardin, trying not to visibly show his disgust.

Jesus... I know that this is a fancy restaurant, but would it kill them to actually cook the food? he asked himself.

He had gotten used to seeing undercooked fish at his previous job at Eleven Madison Avenue, but he never ate any of it. Not only did Justin have to pick something from this menu, but he had to eat it, too.

"Have you decided what you'd like, Mr. Taylor?" a rep from Armani, a man that Brian introduced him to as "Mr. Klein," asked him. "The chef here is amazing. I have never had one bad dish here."

Justin looked up at the older man, who he guessed had hair plugs and looked as if he lived in a tanning bed. "Uh..." the blonde said uneasily. "There's just so much to choose from..."

Brian snickered slightly, placing his hand on Justin's thigh under the table and giving it a light squeeze. "They'll cook anything you want more thoroughly, if you don't like raw or undercooked fish," he whispered behind his menu.

The server came back to the table to take their orders. Mr. Klein ordered the octopus (which made Justin gag slightly); the other rep from Armani, a very effeminate brunette appearing to be in his thirties, who told Justin to "just call me Quinn," ordered the geoduck clam (which is pronounced "gooey duck" and made Justin suck in a breath to hold back a bark of laughter as he imagined a duck covered in semen); and Brian ordered the baked cod. When the server looked at Justin for his order, he looked back at her nervously.

"Bring him the filet mignon, medium," Brian said for him. He turned to Justin to take his menu and smiled. Justin gratefully smiled and squeezed Brian's thigh back.

"So, Brian," Quinn said, deliberately pronouncing each syllable. "You say that Justin here is an 'associate' of yours; what exactly does that mean?"

Justin and Brian both noticed Quinn looking at Justin as if he wished he could order him off of the menu.

Brian answered, "I recently hired Mr. Taylor as my new art director."

"Ah..." Quinn said, taking a sip of his wine, eyeballing Justin over his glass. "So, tell me, Mr. Taylor," saying it like he was describing Venice at sunset, "what is it like to work for a man like Brian Kinney?"

Justin took a deep breath and said, "Well, uh... I haven't actually begun to work for Brian... ahem, Mr. Kinney, just yet-"

"Mr. Taylor will be an instrumental part of my new team," Brian cut in, "once we begin to create the second phase of your new campaign, that is."

Mr. Klein chuckled slightly. "Well, we shall see about that after we see what you have to present to us tomorrow, Mr. Kinney."

"We certainly shall," Brian said, confidently.

"(I've Had) The Time of My Life" quietly began to play in Brian's suit jacket. He reached into his pocket and hit a button on the phone to silence it, an annoyed scowl on his face.

"Sorry about that," Brian said to the men across the table.

"So," Quinn said, "we should expect to see more of you in the future, eh, Mr. Taylor? That is, if we choose to sign with Kinnetik..."

Brian cleared his throat. "Why yes, Quinn. Mr. Taylor and I will be working very closely together, creating the boards for Armani's fall campaign."

As Mr. Klein took a breath to say something, Quinn said, "So, Mr. Taylor, I assume that you are an artist, then? Might I have seen your work displayed somewhere before?"

"I've had some pieces shown at a few small galleries in Chelsea; probably not any shows that you would have gone to," Justin said uneasily.

Before Quinn could ask Mr. Taylor another question, Brian chimed in. "Justin mainly works on commission. He does amazing portraits, as well as abstracts and landscapes," he stated, remembering the pieces he saw hanging up in Justin and Daphne's apartment the previous evening.

"Portraits?" Quinn inquired, the wheels in his head obviously turning.

"Yes..." Justin began to say.

"But, Justin is highly in demand; from what he told me, he has a very long waiting list," Brian said.

Justin nearly spat out his wine all over the table.

Not a moment too soon, the server brought out their entrees.

Brian and Justin had just climbed into the limo to go back to the hotel when Brian asked, "So, Mr. Taylor..." repeating it in the same syrupy voice Quinn had repeatedly used, "what did you think of Quinn?"

Justin laughed. "Uh... he's your potential client. I don't want to talk shit..."

"No, no, shit-talk away," Brian said with a smile. "Mr. Taylor."

"Seriously? I was waiting for him to crawl under the table and start sucking my dick like you and Mr. Leatherface weren't even there."

"I wouldn't have been surprised if he had tried... but, he would have to get rid of me, first." Brian turned to crouch between Justin's legs and undid Justin's belt and fly. Pulling out his cock, Brian stroked him to hardness and took Justin deep into his throat, quickly bring Justin to fruition.

When the boys got back to The Palace, they rushed through the lobby and to elevators, barely able to wait until they could get each other naked. They stood in the elevator side by side next to a lady that looked like she was over a hundred, listening to "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," by Elton John and Kiki Dee on the way up to their floor.

The elevator stopped on the 36th floor, and the old lady slowly shuffled off, her walker clacking with every step. If it wasn't for the elevator attendant keeping them company, Brian would have shoved Justin up against the wall of the elevator car and devoured his mouth. Instead, the doors closed, and the boys rode up to the 42nd floor, bopping their heads along with the music.

The elevator doors opened again, and Brian and Justin got out and briskly walked down the hallway to Brian's suite. Brian slipped the keycard into the slot and shoved the door open, dragging Justin in behind him by his tie. Brian bolted the door, and the boys began discarding their jackets, ties, belts, shoes, socks, shirts, pants, and underwear in a trail from the main door to the bed, kissing and licking each other along the way.

Justin roughly shoved Brian onto the bed. Brian moved around so that his head was on the pillow, and Justin climbed on top of him. He made a trail of kisses down to Brian's pubic hair, stopping before he got to his dick.

Before Brian realized what was happening, Justin grabbed him by his right shoulder and quickly turned him over onto his stomach. Justin started from the top and began trailing kisses and licks down Brian's spine, causing Brian to shiver at the sensation. When Justin got to Brian's crack, he stiffened slightly.

"Relax, stud," Justin said.

He straddled Brian's thighs and began to knead Brian's butt cheeks with his fingers. Brian let out a breath and Justin noticed the toned muscles in Brian's back and ass loosen up. Justin lifted up and put his right knee in between Brian's legs to make him spread out. He then knelt between Brian's legs and lightly blew between Brian's butt cheeks, making Brian clench and giggle a bit.

"What, is Mr. Big, Bad Cock's tushy ticklish?" Justin asked.

"A little," Brian answered quietly.

Justin exhaled a warm breath between Brian's cheeks, making him relax again. Justin then stuck out his tongue and licked a strip up Brian's crack from his perineum to his tailbone, causing Brian to inhale sharply. Justin lightly pulled his cheeks apart, licking Brian's tight hole.

Hearing Brian moan into the pillow, Justin pointed his tongue and poked it into Brian's hole, and began a variation of stabs and short flicks. A few moments later, Justin felt Brian begin to rise up onto his knees, and Justin followed him.

He gave Brian a moment to get comfortable, watching him ball up the pillow in his arms for support. Justin then continued to rim Brian, and reached around with his right hand to slowly stroke Brian's dripping cock.

"Mmm... fuck me, Justin" Brian whispered.

"What?" Justin licked up Brian's crack again, then sat back to watch Brian's asshole contract.

"Fuck me," Brian said in his normal volume.

Justin licked his index finger and stuck it into Brian's ass. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you..."

Brian looked back over his shoulder, and yelled, "I said, FUCK ME!"

"Yes, sir," Justin said as he got up and opened the drawer of the night stand, pulling out a condom and the lube. He resumed his position behind Brian, sat the condom on the blanket beside him, and poured a few drops of lube onto his fingers. He spent a minute prepping Brian, making the older man moan between breaths.

"Justin... ugh... now," Brian said, panting.

Justin then opened the condom packet and rolled it onto his dick, then coated it liberally with lube. He stuck two fingers into Brian and asked, "What was that you said earlier?"

Brian laughed. "You heard me, you little twat."

Not wasting any more time, Justin pulled his fingers out and slowly began pushing the head of his dick into Brian. Feeling some resistance, Justin bent over and kissed Brian's back. "Let me in, you sexy beast," Justin whispered. He felt Brian relax, and he swiftly pushed all the way in.

"Oh, shit!" Brian yelled out.

Justin gasped and froze. "You okay?"

He watched Brian pull himself forward, causing Justin's dick to slide out a bit, and then shove back onto him hard, groaning in pleasure. Justin cried out, feeling Brian clamp tightly around him, and Justin began forcefully thrusting into Brian, holding onto his hips for dear life. Soon, Justin noticed that Brian pulled his right arm from beneath the bunched up pillow and grabbed onto his dick. Justin let go of Brian's right hip and pulled his hand off, grabbing onto the long, thick shaft with his own hand, which was still slick from the lube. He began to jerk Brian off in time with his thrusts, causing Brian to whimper into the pillow and tighten up on him even more.

Justin only had to pump a few more times before Brian bit down into the pillow and growled like a wild animal. Justin felt Brian's warm cum cover his fingers and his asshole squeeze his dick like a vise, causing Justin to cum a moment after, screaming out random prayers and obscenities. After the waves of their orgasms subsided, both men fell over onto their left sides, with Justin's dick still inside.

"Oh..." Brian moaned. "Mr. Taylor."

Justin brought his cum-covered hand up to his mouth and licked some of it off. "Uhhh-huh," he agreed.

Brian reached behind himself and grasped the ring of the condom securely around the base of Justin's dick, and pulled Justin out of him. He rolled over to face Justin and caressed his cheek. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, as if he was contemplating saying something. Instead, he exhaled and stared into Justin's eyes, a slight smile on his gorgeous face.

"What?" Justin asked.

"That's the first time I've bottomed in like, six years," Brian answered.

"Wow... lucky me."

Brian chuckled and gripped the back of Justin's neck, pulling him in for a long kiss.

After Brian used a wet wash cloth to clean up the mess he made on the sheets, they each cleaned themselves off in the bathroom, and then went out into the living room to pick up their discarded clothes and shoes. They hung up their suits and crawled back into bed together.

Brian turned the TV on and flipped through the channels until he found AMC, which had just begun airing one of Brian's favorite movies, One-Eyed Jacks, starring Marlon Brando. They watched the movie together, with Brian mouthing all of the dialog. Justin rode Brian's dick after it was over, and then they fell asleep together, Brian spooning behind Justin with his nose buried in the golden locks, their arms and legs twined together tightly.

Just as he did the previous morning, Brian woke up when he heard someone banging rapidly on the door of his suite at seven AM. "Fucking Schmidt," he hissed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

He looked over to his left, where Justin was still sleeping soundly, looking like a little angel. Brian then flipped the alarm clock switch off, since he had set it to wake him up at eight.

With the knocking not letting up, Brian got out of bed, threw on a robe, and shut the bedroom door behind him as he made his way into the living room. He walked over to the door, not bothering to look in the peep hole, and turned the lock.

He jerked the door open and found himself face-to-face with his boyfriend and best friend, Michael Novotny.

Michael shoved Brian out of the way as he stomped into the living room, turning around to look at him as Brian let the door close behind him. Brian noticed that Michael had at least two days of beard growth on his normally clean-shaven face, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Because it was nearly an six-hour drive, he guessed that Michael must have left Pittsburgh sometime after midnight and drove all through the night to confront him.

"Well?" Michael asked, his eyes bloodshot.

Brian played dumb. "Well, what?"

Michael looked down at his feet and laughed sarcastically. He looked back up, an enraged look on his face, and asked, "Why the fuck have you not returned my calls in the past, oh, thirty-six hours?"

"Mikey..." Brian began.

"You know what, Brian? I don't want to hear any more of your bullshit! I am sick and fucking tired of you always putting your career in front of me. And if it's not your career, it's some trick!" Michael yelled as he began pacing, throwing his arms around. "I knew that when we got together- that you were still going to be Brian Fucking Kinney. I knew that I probably couldn't tame the wild stallion, but I hoped that since it was you and me that you might decide to finally settle down and grow up!"

"Grow up?" Brian yelled, stepping in front of Michael. "I need to grow up? You have a lot of fucking nerve telling someone that they need to grow up! What, you think that because you own your own business, that you're a grown up? You own a comic book store, Michael! Your average client is a junior high student buying comics with his allowance! You barely break even at the end of each month.

"You think that because you and The Nutty Professor took in a foster kid, that you're a grown up? Hunter chose to stay with Ben when you guys broke up, not with you, remember?

Brian continued, "You think that because you have a kid on the way, that you're a grown up? Trust me, if Mel didn't hate me so much, she wouldn't have asked you for your sperm! Linds wanted me to father their next child, not you! If it was up to that cunt, Mel, you wouldn't have anything to do with that kid, just like she wishes that I never saw my son. Gus is three years old, and him being born didn't make me a grown up, did it? Oh, oh... and don't even get me started on your mother!"

"Shut up, Brian!" Michael shouted, tears streaming down his face.

"You are thirty-three years old, and you still have to ask your mother's permission to do anything! I'm surprised she allows you to wipe your own ass!"

Michael slapped Brian across his face. "I said, shut the fuck up!"

"No! Michael... you want to know the truth? I am sick and fucking tired of your bullshit! Do you know why we started seeing each other in the first place? I felt sorry for you! It wasn't because I was in love with you! It was a pity fuck that shouldn't have ever happened. I only let it happen because I didn't want to see you fall apart. Vic had recently died, Ben just broke your heart, and I didn't want you to lose all three of your superheroes in such as short amount of time. So I stupidly let you believe that everything was going to be alright; that I would love you like you always dreamed, make love to you every night for the rest of our lives, and that maybe we might even someday get married and have little brats of our own. So I let you move in to my loft, I bought you a car, a new wardrobe, paid off your store and your mom's house..."

The men turned when they heard the bedroom door open and Justin walked out fully dressed, with his messenger bag over his shoulder and his duffel bag in his hand. His face was red, and tears were dripping off of his cheeks.

"Oh, I should have fucking known!" Michael screamed as he walked into the dining room and placed his hands on top of the table, his back to the two other men.

"Justin..." Brian said, realizing that Justin had probably heard most of that exchange.

Without a word, Justin quickly walked to the door, yanked it open, and started to make his way down the hall towards the elevators. Brian followed after him, still wearing only a hotel robe and no shoes.

"Justin, please..."

Justin got to the elevators and pressed the down arrow. He turned to look at Brian, a hard glare on his face. "Please, what?"

"Let me explain," Brian begged.

"Explain what? That the last two days have been a lie? That you've had a boyfriend back in Pittsburgh this whole time? That you were going to spend the week fucking me, making me think that you actually gave a shit about me, and then go back home to him?" Justin yelled, wiping the tears off of his face.

"I should have told you..." Brian began to say, his eyes beginning to glisten.

"Why would you have told me? All you wanted to do was use me; why the fuck would you have told me you had a boyfriend, huh? I probably wouldn't have fucked you then, would I?"

The elevator doors opened, and the elevator attendant looked out. "Going down, sir?"

"Yes," Justin said as he stepped onto the elevator.

Brian put his foot in the doorway to prevent the doors from closing. "Justin, please don't leave like this."

"Fuck off, Brian!" Justin screamed, kicking Brian's leg so he would move it.

Brian jumped back, and the doors closed.