Chapter 15 - The Make Up Dance.

The Grand Century boardroom was empty when Brian Kinney returned to it after spending twenty minutes or so briefing Grant Pates on what further services Kinnetik’s CEO could offer. Brian was confident that he had just clinched the deal - Grant had been especially accommodating and very appreciative. He had every expectation that Grant would push their proposal through with the board if it was at all within his power. Kinney could practically smell all that nice green cash that was soon going to be pouring into Kinnetik’s accounts.  

He was surprised to see that all the presentation materials were gone and that Justin was nowhere to be found either. He was a little annoyed that he’d have to waste time looking for the younger man. He was hungry and had thought to treat them both to a nice celebratory lunch. And then maybe some more celebrating back in their hotel suite. Where could the boy have gotten to, Brian wondered.  

He wandered out towards the lobby, keeping an eye out for his wandering blond, but there was still no blond twink evident anywhere in the environs. Brian approached the reception desk, waiting impatiently for the attractive young brunette answering the phones to acknowledge him. After about the third or fourth call, the young woman finally looked up at him with a disinterested half-smile, and asked him how she could help him.

“Well, Ms. Winnie Hutcherson,” Brian said, reading the woman’s name off the nameplate on the counter in front of her desk, “You could assist me by telling me if you've seen my business associate around anywhere. I’m ready to leave but he seems to be missing.”

“Do you mean Mr. Kinney?” Winnie asked the snarky older man, not inclined to be overly helpful in response to his sarcastic tone of voice.

“Excuse me?” Brian asked, momentarily confused.

“Cute, blond, about twenty and so much more pleasant than you? Said his name was Justin Kinney?” Winnie prompted.

“Yes, that would be him. Happen to know where he is?” Brian’s level of snark escalating in direct proportion to Ms. Hutcherson’s disdain.  

“Well, I don’t know precisely where he is right at the moment, but I would expect you might find him somewhere at the Governor Hotel since I called a cab for him to take him there about a half hour ago.” Winnie replied caustically, not waiting for a response as she turned her attention back to the blinking phone console.

“Thank you, so very much,” Brian said, mainly in order to have the last word, as he headed for the elevators.  

Brian was starting to get a bad feeling and he was sure that Justin was at the center of it.

++++++++++++++

Justin already had most of his clothing packed and was gathering his toiletries by the time Brian made it back to their hotel suite. Brian immediately got the distinct impression that Justin was angry about something - the red face and frown, along with the stomping feet and the man’s refusal to look at him, were dead giveaways. Brian thought he might know what was wrong, but wasn’t sure exactly why and thought it was best to make sure before he jumped to conclusions.

“Going somewhere, Sunshine?” Brian said as he leaned back against the door.

“Back to Pittsburgh,” Justin replied tersely.

“And you’re leaving now? Am I allowed to ask why? I believe our return flight isn’t scheduled to depart until tomorrow.”

Justin’s only response was a scathing sneer, the normally attractive youth’s eyes squinting and his mouth pursed up, lips almost white with anger.

“Okay. And what, pray tell are you going to do back in Pittsburgh, when you get there?”

“Find someplace to live.” Justin stowed the last of his belongings and zipped up his suitcase.

“I thought you already had someplace to live. You’ve been living with me, I believe.”

“Someplace else to live, then.” Justin hefted his suitcase in one hand, his portfolio bag over the other shoulder and reached for his carry-on with his free hand. Standing in front of Brian, who was blocking the door, he added, “Excuse me.”

“No.” Brian wasn’t going to move.

“Brian, get out of my way,” Justin demanded.

“No. I’m not getting out of your way. And you’re not leaving.”

“Yes, I am. Now, get out of my way!”

“You are going to have to talk to me first, Sunshine, because I’m not going anywhere and therefore neither are you.” Brian calmly explained to the furious, impatient young fireball.

“Fuck you, Brian,” Justin yelled, dropping his luggage and walking towards the hotel phone on the desk.  

Brian reached the phone only seconds after Justin had picked up the receiver. The strong, still calm, older man, grabbed the phone base-unit and jerked it away, pulling the cord right out of the wall socket in one swift motion. He then dropped the phone to the floor, crossed his arms and stood staring down at the dumbstruck blond, who was still holding the receiver hand-unit.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Brian. You can’t keep me here against my will,” Justin eventually managed to sputter.

“I think I can.” Brian responded equably. “However, you’re free to go, once you’ve told me exactly what it is you’re so upset about. So, why don’t we sit down, like reasonable adults, and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Fine.” Justin pulled out the desk chair and plopped down into it, crossing his arms and staring at Brian in silent fury.

Brian dragged a chair away from the table, positioning it between Justin and the door, just in case, and sat down as well. “So, I take it that you’re pissed off at me,” Brian started since Justin so far had remained mute. “Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“Christ, I feel like I’m arguing with Gus.” Brian sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. You’re angry about the guy at the board meeting.”

“Bingo.”

“I get that. But, again, why?”

“Why?” Justin was incensed and stupefied. “Brian, did we or did we not just spend most of last night making love in this very room? And then, before the bed’s even cold, you walk away from me with another man to go fuck him in his office? And you have no idea why that would get me angry? What kind of complete moron are you?” 

Justin started to rise from his chair, intent on once again making his escape, but Brian grabbed him by the wrist and pulled Justin into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller man. Justin put up only a token struggle, realizing quickly that he wouldn’t break free from the markedly stronger man’s grasp using force.  

“Listen to me, Justin. Are you listening?”

“Yes, Brian, I apparently don’t have any choice BUT to listen to you.”

-Shit. What the fuck does he want from me?  . . . I’m fucking lousy at relationship shit. I’ve never done this before and I don’t even know where the fuck to start. . . . How the fuck did I get into a relationship anyway.  . .  . Brian Kinney doesn’t DO relationships or boyfriends or complicated or . . . .  Or this. . . . Shit, shit, shit. . . . *sigh*. . . Alright, I can fix this. . . I’ll just . . . . What would the fucking munchers do?  . . . . Fuck it, I just want to kiss him. . . I don’t want to fucking argue. . .So fucked!

Still holding tightly to Justin’s waist with one strong arm, Brian hooked his other hand around the angry fireball’s neck, catching him off guard, and pulled his still-furious face down, kissing him fiercely, not letting him pull away. Justin struggled valiantly for a few moments, but Brian would not relent, and eventually the little fireball’s body betrayed him, responding to the kiss of his lover, allowing himself to be pulled closer by the strong, implacable arms.  

As soon as the smaller man ceased to struggle, Brian loosened his grip on the man’s neck, allowing his fingers to thread through the silky, golden hair and stroke the smooth skin of Justin’s neck and cheek with this thumb.

“Justin,” Brian softly, hesitantly started. “I don’t want to fight. That . . . Back there at the meeting, that didn’t mean anything. I was just . . . closing the deal, you know. It’s the way I’ve always done things . . . at least the way I did things . . . before you. I didn’t think . . . I didn’t know you would be hurt. I’m . . . Fuck, I’m sorry, Sunshine. Okay. I’ll say it again. I’m sorry . . . Last night, that meant something . . . That fucking meant something . . .” Then, even more quietly, Brian added, “I don’t want you to go.”

Justin leaned his forehead against Brian’s and simply sat like that for a long while, both men just breathing, holding onto each other and breathing. 

“Brian. I don’t think I can do this.” Justin finally broke the silence. “Maybe I wasn’t like this before the bashing, but I’m too fucking jealous now to share you.” Brian could see tears starting to gather in the sapphire blue eyes. “Especially after last night, Brian. That was . . . That was everything to me - everything I’ve ever wanted and dreamed about. At least, I think it’s what I’ve dreamed of.” Justin laughed bitterly, the tears finally falling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to go, Brian, but I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Justin,” Brian pleaded. “I don’t want you to leave, okay.”

Brian looked as if he were going to continue, but he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He didn’t take his eyes off of Justin as he flipped the phone open and hit the ‘call’ button.  

“Kinney,” he answered. He listened for several moments without speaking. Then, “that’s fantastic, Geneva. I’m positive you won’t regret this. I’ll have my assistant email you the contracts and we’ll talk tomorrow to set up a production schedule . . . Thank you, again.”

“We did it, Sunshine,” Brian said with a tongue-in-cheek smile. “We got the account.”

“Whoopee.” Justin said sadly. 

“Fuck this. Come on.” Brian lifted Justin off his lap and grabbing his hand, pulled him towards the bedroom. “We’re going to get dressed, and go out on the town to celebrate. We can fucking deal with all this other crap later.” When Justin started to interrupt, Brian shook his head to stop Justin from protesting. “I promise, we’ll figure this out later. Okay? Just let me take you out and let’s have some fun, just for tonight.”

++++++++++++++++++

It was 10:00 pm and Justin and Brian were still celebrating the Grand Century account. After getting cleaned up earlier, they’d had drinks and an early dinner at Jake’s Famous Crawfish Restaurant, a Portland Tradition according to the concierge at the Hotel. From there, they’d walked the few blocks to Pioneer Courthouse Square and done some light shopping - Brian wasn’t impressed with the more casual fashions typical of the Pacific Northwest - and people watching. Then the couple had enjoyed an hilarious show at Darcelle’s, featuring (according to the program) ‘World Famous Female Impersonators’. The show at Darcelle’s had got them both laughing and feeling more playful again, in spite of their earlier argument. And now they were heading to the Crystal Ballroom, a renovated WWI era dance hall that offered nightly dancing and concerts.  

Brian was trying to distract Justin as much as possible and was being more attentive than he remembered ever having been with any other man. Of course, that wasn’t really that hard, since he’d NEVER bothered to try to be attentive to anyone before. Brian was trying hard not to think about why he was doing this - why he was working so hard to make Justin happy - he didn’t want to analyze it because he suspected it would just mess things up. So Brian was concentrating on NOT concentrating and instead just having as much fun as they could.

It was 80’s night at the club, which suited Brian just fine as it reminded him of most nights at Babylon back home. He and Justin were a little overdressed for the more casual Portland scene but they didn’t care - they figured they looked hot in their designer suits and fuck the boring slobs dressed in ragged jeans and tees. They quickly downed two or three drinks, not their first of the night by a long shot, and shedding their jackets and ties, hit the dance floor.

Brian was instantly aware of how perfectly they meshed as they danced - it was like their bodies just fit together. Brian pulled Justin’s hips in closely to his own and draped his arms over the smaller man’s shoulders, while Justin’s arms loosely rested on the taller man’s hips and their foreheads touched. The two men swayed together, heedless of the beat as they lost themselves in their own private world. While this wasn’t strictly a ‘gay’ club, the laid back atmosphere of the club and the town in general, had put them at their ease and they felt no need to hide or even maintain a low profile. And apparently several other couples on the dance floor agreed that they seemed perfect together, since the handsome pair quickly gained a small audience.

When a slower song finally came on, Brian straightaway recognized Anne Murray’s “Could I Have This Dance” - an old favorite of the secretly sentimental brunet. Brian playfully bowed in a formal fashion to his dance partner and pulled Justin up into a waltzing ‘Closed Position’, gracefully guiding the tractable young blond through the classic waltz steps. The light-footed pair glided effortlessly around the floor, Brian twirling Justin around every so often and showing off some fancy steps, which his partner followed nimbly. At the end of the song, Brian squeezed Justin’s waist to signal him for the coming change of step and then dipped the flexible young man, raising him up into a passionate kiss.  

Brian was a little surprised when Justin didn’t return the kiss. He glanced down at Justin but the younger man didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, Justin’s gaze seemed fixed in space and his body was rigid in Brian’s arms. Brian could feel him trembling slightly. He wrapped his arms around the slim body and gently began to edge the boy towards a seating area at the back of the club.

“Justin. What is it,” Brian asked when they were seated far enough from the dance floor that they could more easily speak. “Justin? Are you okay?”

“Brian, I think I remember dancing with you, before.” Justin said in a small, far-away voice. “There were grey balloons everywhere. I was wearing a tux and you were there. You dipped me just like before, then we spun around and you kissed me.” The boy looked up Brian, wonder in his eyes. “Is that a real memory, Brian?”

-The fucking Prom. He remembered the Prom . . . This is great - he’s starting to remember things . . . The doctor said he might never regain any memories, but he’s actually starting to remember . . . Shit. Is he going to remember about me and meeting me there? . . . Fuck. I need to tell him the truth - if he’s starting to remember stuff then I should just tell him . . . But, fuck, he’s still sorta pissed at me about this morning. If I tell him everything he’s gonna be even more pissed off . . . What the fuck, I’ve got to tell him.

“Yeah, Justin. That’s a real memory.” Brian tried to maintain a smile as he spoke but he was so fucking nervous - he didn’t know how the boy was going to respond when he told him the whole story - this wasn’t going to be easy. “That was at your Prom. We danced together at your Prom.”

“I remember. That’s why all the balloons and shit. But, it’s all fuzzy. I can’t really remember anything except that dance.” Justin was trying so hard now to remember, his face was all screwed up and his vision was turned inward.  

“Justin. There’s more I need to tell you about that night.” Brian didn’t really know how to begin so he paused there, working up some additional courage. “I . . ."

For the second time that day, Brian was interrupted by his ringing phone. He flipped it open and noted the caller ID showed the call was from Lindsey. Realizing it was close to 2:00 am in Pittsburgh, he knew immediately that this couldn’t be good news.  

“Lindz. What’s wrong,” Brian answered. He listened intently for several minutes, then said, “It’s going to be okay, Lindz. I’ll get the next flight back. I’ll call you back as soon as I know what time I’ll be arriving. Call me if anything changes.” 

Hanging up abruptly, Brian looked at Justin with an ashen face and panic clear in his eyes. 

“Gus is sick. He’s in the hospital. Lindsey said it was E. coli poisoning - they think it was from some fucking tainted spinach or some shit. I have to get back.”