Chapter 14 - The Grand Slam.
The lunch crowd in Alejandro’s was noisy and the place was packed when Brian and Justin arrived the next day at a little before 1:00 pm. They didn’t have to wait in line for a table though - all Brian had to do was nod and smile at a short, dark-haired man behind the counter and they were ushered to a freshly bussed table in the rear. Brian thanked ‘Alex’ and slipped him a twenty while Justin seated himself. However, before he could get comfortable, Justin glimpsed his mother’s bright blonde head hovering near the door and he stood up to wave her over.
“Here goes nothing,” Justin commented to Brian.
“It could be worse, Sunshine,” the older man commented. “We could be having lunch with MY mother.”
“Hey, Mom.” Justin said when Jennifer reached them, leaning over and allowing the woman to peck at his cheek before they both sat.
“Justin. I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t know if you would show or not.” Jennifer said.
“Why wouldn’t I - Brian told you I’d be here so I am.” Justin was trying not to start out this conversation on a hostile note, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Taylor,” Brian interjected, a little peeved that Jennifer hadn’t yet acknowledged his presence.
“Mr. Kinney,” Jennifer responded coolly.
“Just Brian, please,” the calm older man returned, equally cool.
“So, Mom. I’m here. You’re here. What did you want to say to me?” Justin figured it was better to just get this over.
“I just wanted to talk and make sure you’re okay, honey. I was worried about you - especially after the way you left when we were having lunch last time . . .“ Jennifer started, wanting more of an explanation for what Justin had said to her then, but approaching the topic with caution.
The discussion was interrupted at this point by their waiter, who came to get their lunch order. The brief break in the conversation was welcome though, allowing Justin a little more time to think over his response and the direction in which he wanted this conversation to proceed. By the time the waiter left, he was ready.
“Mom, I’m sorry about the way I left that conversation. I was just upset by that man who interrupted us. He was . . . His comments just took me by surprise is all,” Justin hoped this would be enough to assuage his mother’s fears. “I’m doing fine, really.”
Brian reached over and grasped Justin’s hand at this point, smiling a little apologetically. Justin smiled back, heartened by the small show of support.
“Justin, you said some things then that have me really, really concerned.” Jennifer wasn’t ready to let this go. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I didn’t approve of the way your father handled things. Of course, I . . . I’m sorry for what he did - for telling you to leave. But, whatever your father did, I’m still your mother and I still worry about you. I just don’t want to see you getting yourself mixed up in something . . . with people who . . .”
“Spit it out, Mom. People who what? People who are gay?” Justin was quickly losing the struggle with his temper.
“Justin, please. I didn’t mean it like that . . .“ Jennifer tried to calm the volatile young man.
“Then how did you mean it? What people are you talking about, hmm? People who have helped me out when my own family couldn’t care less about me? People like Brian - who you haven’t even looked at the whole time we’ve been sitting here? You being worried about me hanging out with the wrong sort of people doesn’t concern me anymore, Mom.” Justin would have gone on but a squeeze from Brian’s hand helped steady him and he stopped.
“Mrs. Taylor.” Brian tried to intervene. “Whatever your other concerns about Justin may be, I think that the important thing is that you know he really is fine - he has a safe place to live right now and his art show last night was a huge success. He’s a big boy and he’s doing a damn good job of taking care of himself despite your husband having kicked him out of your home. That’s all you really have the right to ask about, isn’t it. As for our personal life, well, you don’t really have any right to even ask about that, let alone judge us for it, now do you? “
“Mr. Kinney, I don’t really think this is any of your business. I appreciate you helping to get Justin here today, but this is between me and my son.” Jennifer tried to exclude the interfering man.
“How dare you just dismiss Brian like that, Mom. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Justin wasn’t even trying to rein in his temper anymore. “I wouldn’t have a place to live right now if it weren’t for Brian. And I wouldn’t have had that show last night or the possibility of going to college in the fall or anything else for that matter. I’d probably be living on the streets right now if it weren’t for him. So you can just take all your concerns over me associating with the wrong kind of people and shove them up your ass. I’ll get out of here so you won’t have to be exposed to my ‘disgusting lifestyle’, as Dad so eloquently put it.”
Justin got up to leave, for a second time abandoning his uneaten lunch and his mother. Brian did likewise, dropping some money on the table as he left. Jennifer however still wanted to try to save this relationship somehow.
“Justin, please, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t want this conversation to end like this. Please. How can I contact you, Justin?" Jennifer was running along after them.
“You can’t. I don’t want to talk to you again, Mom. And please stop harassing Daphne - she won’t tell you where I’m at, so just leave her alone.” Justin yelled over his shoulder then got in the Corvette and waited for Brian to drive them away from this ridiculous scene, leaving Jennifer standing alone in the parking lot.
“That went pretty well,” Brian said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” Justin asked.
“Well, if we’d been having lunch with my Mother, we’d have been condemned to hell and had a bible thrown at us on the way out the door,” Brian offered as consolation, provoking a tiny huff of laughter from the still seething blond.
“Hey, Brian?” Justin said after sitting in silence for a few minutes.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any appointments right after lunch today?”
“No. Why?”
“Cause I really need you to fuck me in the shower at your office as soon as we get there.”
“I think I can accommodate that request, Sunshine,” Brian smiled over at his distressed little blond, kinda liking this reaction to the stress of dealing with his mother.
(((((((((((((((((((B/J)))))))))))))))))))))
Justin was surprised when Brian stayed home from work the next day. Two Saturdays in a row of Brian not going to work was phenomenal. Brian’s excuse was that there weren't any vital deadlines looming with the New Seasonings account, but Justin suspected that the man just wanted to play hooky for a day and have some fun.
After sleeping in late, Brian took Justin out for a good old fashioned country breakfast at this little dive not far from the house - Justin thought he wouldn’t have even known the place was a restaurant if he’d seen it without Brian pointing it out. But from the number of locals eating there, it was obviously a local favorite. The food was delicious too, although hardly dietetic, considering pretty much everything was fried in butter. Justin was in heaven.
After breakfast, Brian insisted that they do something to work off all those ridiculous calories. Justin suggested tennis - he’d been living there for weeks but hadn’t yet had a chance to try out the court. Brian agreed and met him on the court about a half hour later with two tennis raquets in hand.
Brian, of course, excelled at tennis, like everything else the man touched. He soundly beat Justin four sets to two. Both men were drenched with sweat by the time they were through - the rain from earlier in the week had moved off but the added moisture, now that the sun was back, made everything horribly humid. Brian and Justin sat in tall, black canvas directors chairs placed at the edge of the court in the shade of a tree and drank the lemonade that Mei Mei had brought down to them.
Justin couldn’t understand why Brian wasn’t dripping nearly as much as he was. He concluded that it was simply impossible for Brian not to look gorgeous no matter what he was doing. Justin, on the other hand, looked and felt like he’d been run over by a water tanker. He pulled off his shirt and used the one dry corner to wipe the sweat off his face then tossed it on the ground when he was finished. Then he stood up to stretch so his muscles wouldn’t cramp on him later when he cooled off.
Brian, meanwhile, was enjoying the post-game show - Justin without his shirt on, beads of sweat running in rivulets down his chest and back, his thin cotton shorts glued to his perfect ass with sweat and pulled extra-tight as he stretched. Brian didn’t remember tennis ever being this exciting before. When Justin bent over with his legs spread apart to stretch out the backs of his thighs, Brian couldn’t take it anymore - he moved quickly to stand directly behind the limber, wet, blond, pulling the slender hips into him so that his dick rubbed right against the crack of that sweet little ass.
“Need me to help you with those stretches, little boy?” Brian rasped out, his voice thick with lust.
Justin wiggled his ass even more provocatively, grinding it back against Brian’s crotch, and added, “Mmmmm. That would be super. You could be my own personal trainer.”
Brian pulled off his own shirt and threw it and the two hand towels they’d brought down into a pile on top of Justin’s discarded shirt. With one swift motion, Brian pulled off the boy’s tennis shorts as well, letting them puddle around Justin’s ankles. Then he pushed on Justin’s shoulders with both hands until the boy dropped to his knees, the pile of clothing cushioning his fall. His own shorts followed the rest into the pile and then Brian sank to his knees as well, sighing as his bare flesh met with Justin’s, their thighs practically glued together with their combined sweat.
Brian reverently spread apart the plump downy cheeks of the perfect blond boy ass and swiped his fingers through a small puddle of sweat accumulating in the small of Justin’s back, using it instead of lube to help ease his fingers into the tight little hole. Justin’s body was so hot from the sun and the exercise and his deep, welcoming hole felt even warmer than usual to Brian’s questing fingers. The skilled older man knew exactly where to rub and how to bend those talented fingers to prepare the moaning boy and he adeptly tapped at the secret sweet spot inside at the same time.
Each wiggle of that tempting ass and every tiny whimper and moan from Justin’s hot pink lips went straight to Brian’s aching cock. He wanted to be inside this hot little blond so badly right now he thought he might shoot before he could even get the condom on. But somehow he managed to get the condom on one handed and then, rubbing his dick up and down the boy’s sweat drenched inner thighs and getting himself dripping wet, he merrily shoved into the place he so wanted to be - balls deep in that perfect ass. Brian immediately started slamming into that beautiful ass as hard as he could, spurred on by Justin, who had braced his hands against the rubberized court surface and was thrusting himself backward onto Brian’s cock just as hard.
In the dripping humidity, their motions induced even more sweat, creating a sheen over both beautiful naked bodies. Brian was aroused even more by the sunlight glistening off Justin’s damp creamy smooth skin. He knew he was going to cum fast this time and reached around to pump at Justin’s hard shaft to help bring him off too. The heat seemed to hasten their drive and within mere moments Brian pummelled into Justin for the final drive, reaching his peak and releasing into the condom with an abandoned groan at the same time that Justin shot his own load, splattering the court surface with streams of hot sticky cum.
Brian let himself fall over, draped across Justin’s sweat dampened back, the smaller man just barely able to hold them both up on his shaking arms still braced against the ground. After a moment or two, Brian became concerned that Justin was trembling even harder. He moved to pull his body away, but Justin simply grabbed his wrist, pulling Brian’s arm under him and rolled the two of them over together. That was when Brian realized that the shaking was caused by Justin laughing silently, almost uncontrollably.
“That gives *he he he* a whole new *he he he* meaning to *Ha ha* the term *Haw Haw* ‘Grand Slam’,” Justin finally managed to say between bursts of wild unrestrained laughter.
“You can be my ‘ball boy’ anytime, Sunshine”, Brian joined in with the banter and the laughter.
“I think I managed to ‘lose my seed’ this time, though,” Justin enjoined.
“You certainly did that, little boy. But only because I found your ‘sweetspot’.”
By this time, Justin was literally rolling around on the court, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, Brian smiling down at him indulgently. A random thought blew through Brian’s mind that he’d never had this much fun having sex before. He’d had great sex, lots of it, but he didn’t remember it ever having been accompanied by so much laughter, fun or joy as it was when he was with Justin. With Justin the sex wasn’t just great - it was phenomenal - and the laughter they often shared afterwards definitely added to that feeling.
“Hey, little boy. I think that I was a bit distracted on that last serve. How about giving me a ‘let’. We can move to a less uncomfortable surface and I’ll show you how great my ‘service’ can really be.” Brian added, bringing on a fresh wave of glee in the still giggling blond, who readily agreed to another match in the showers, thinking secretly that even if Brian didn’t know it, this was definitely a ‘love game’.
(((((((((((((((((((((B/J)))))))))))))))))))))))
After their tennis match in the shower, Brian let Justin get in a nap while he worked a bit in his office downstairs. Justin didn’t get too long to sleep though, since they had plans this afternoon. Brian got his sleepyheaded boy up about 2:00 pm and fed him a late lunch and then the two put on suits and headed into the Pitts to attend a benefit at the Carnegie Museum of Art, which Lindsey was forcing Brian to attend.
Like all such affairs, there was a lovely buffet set up - this time in the gardens behind the museum - and the alcohol flowed freely to the strains of a string quartet playing in a shady glade of trees. But overall, Brian thought it was unbearably boring and if Justin hadn’t been there to lighten the mood by continually coming up with humorous insulting comments about the other stuffy benefactors, he would have bolted long since in spite of his promise to Lindsey.
Lindsey and Mel didn’t even get there until almost an hour after the boys had arrived - and they had been fashionably late themselves. Lindsey apologized, explaining that they had a last minute crisis with the babysitter and had to take Gus over to Deb’s in the end. However, Brian was at last placated by Lindsey’s presence, not to mention his third Beam.
The four of them were standing together and chatting in the shade by the entrance to the gardens, Brian’s arm casually encircling Justin’s waist, when he felt the young man’s body tense. He looked at Justin and saw his attention directed towards a figure approaching from the walkway to the parking area. It took Brian a moment to recognize the tux-clad man approaching him - the man looked much different in daylight and dressed in formal attire, Brian thought.
“Brian Kinney. Fucking small world, isn’t it,” Brandon said as he neared the little knot of people.
“Brandon,” Brian responded, the contempt he felt clear from his tone.
“And if it isn’t the most beautiful pool boy in Pittsburgh,” Brandon said, addressing Justin, his hand reaching out so his index finger could trail down the younger man’s chest.
“Fuck off, Brandon,” Brian instantly slapped the man’s hand away from Justin and moved so that Justin was sheltered behind his body.
Brandon wasn’t to be put off by the little show of machismo, however. “My offer still stands, Justin,” Brandon said, focusing his attention on the younger man over Brian’s shoulder. “When Kinney’s contract is up, I would love to show you what I can offer.”
“He’s not interested in ANYTHING you might have to offer, so just FUCK OFF,” Brian responded for Justin, not willing to let this odious man anywhere near his blond.
“Becoming a little too attached to your toy I see, Kinney,” Brandon drawled. “Like I said before, old man, your days as the King of Liberty Avenue are already over.”
“Get the fuck away from me right now or you’ll be spending the rest of the day at the dry cleaners trying to explain to them how to get the blood out of that tacky rental tux,” Brian hissed, now chest to chest with the sneering blond who was threatening him.
“Fine, I’ve got better places to be anyway,” Brandon said as he started to move away. “But don’t forget what I said, Justin. I will have you eventually, you know, no matter what this used up old club boy thinks. See you around, beautiful.”
Justin and Melanie together only just managed to hold Brian back from going after the rude interloper. Brandon was really starting to get on Brian’s nerves and he wasn’t going to take it much longer. Fuck, why did that fucker have to keep turning up at the worst possible moments? Brian made a mental note to find out more about this guy - he would be ready the next time the asswipe turned up unexpectedly.
(((((((((((((((((((((((((B/J))))))))))))))))))))))))
Tennis Terms: (courtesy of Wikipedia)
Grand Slam: Like the Grand Slam in golf or the Triple Crown in American thoroughbred racing, the Grand Slam means winning all four Major tournaments in a calendar year. Since it happens so rarely, "Grand Slam" is commonly misused to refer to any one of the four most prestigious tournaments (Majors): the Australian Open, the French Open (or Roland Garros), Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open. See also Career Grand Slam and Serena Slam.
Let (do-over): Call that requires the point to be replayed. This typically occurs when an otherwise valid serve makes contact with the net. However, a let call can also be made when there is some distraction to either player not caused by the players themselves, such as a ball boy moving behind a receiver, debris flying across the court in windy conditions, or a ball accidentally falling out of a player's pocket or entering from a neighboring court.
Seed: Player whose position in a tournament has been arranged based on his/her ranking so as not to meet other ranking players in the early rounds of play. To lose one’s seed means to be ranked lower than previously.
Sweetspot: Central area of the raquet head which is the best location for making contact with the ball.
Love game: Shutout game, won without the opponent's scoring.
Ball boy (or ball girl or ballkid): Child tasked with retrieving tennis balls from the court that have gone out of play and supplying the balls to the players before their service.
Serve: Also, as a noun, service. To begin a point by hitting the ball into the opponent's half of the court.