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Chapter 31 - PC Sunshine.

Brian was finally starting to stir a bit. Sunshine hoped he hadn’t woken the man with his squirming. He himself hadn’t been able to get much sleep at all. He was too happy and excited to sleep. He was trying to be considerate and let Brian get some rest, but it was difficult to hold still when all he wanted to do was kiss and fondle the older man over and over again. He really wouldn’t mind at all if Brian were to wake up and want to play a bit more.

Sunshine was still awestruck by what had happened the night before. He’d never even imagined that ANYTHING could feel as wonderful as being with Brian had made him feel. And it wasn’t just what Brian could do to his body - which was remarkable in and of itself - it was more what he’d done to the boy’s soul. Brian had said he loved him. He’d shown kindness and caring. He’d been gentle and tender. He’d proven everything Sunshine had ever been told about sex and what he could expect from life to be wrong. It had meant everything to him. So much so that he’d been afraid to go to sleep for fear he’d wake up and find it was all a dream.

Instead of sleeping, he’d wrapped himself around Brian and held on all through the night. Luckily, even in his sleep, Brian had seemed to share a similar desire for closeness. Now that the sun was finally up, Sunshine could enjoy looking at the man lying next to him as well as touching him. Although he couldn’t see much from where he was curled up against the bigger man’s side, with his head nestled on the solidity of Brian’s chest. That was okay, though. He was too comfortable where he was to move.

Brian yawned and stretched out the arm that wasn’t lying under Sunshine’s head. “Morning, Sunshine,” he mumbled with a squeeze to the boy’s shoulders.

Sunshine squeezed back with the arm draped over Brian’s middle as well as the leg that was curled around Brian’s left thigh. And, just because he could, he also nuzzled his face against the warm, musky skin at the cleft of Brian’s shoulder and left a little welcoming kiss there for good measure. He loved that Brian’s response was to chuckle and ruffle his hair up. He loved any time that Brian touched him in any way.

Brian reached out with his free hand and grabbed the alarm clock off the side table. “Shit! Is that the time? I’m fucking late.”

Brian turned his head to the side, left an absentminded kiss on the top of the boy’s blond head and then pried his left arm out from under the smaller man’s body. Sunshine tried to hold on to the arm so the man couldn’t depart, but Brian simply laughed at him, shook him off and padded away to take care of business in the bathroom. Sunshine laid there, sprawled out on the bed and stretching for about two minutes. Then he just couldn’t stand being away from Brian any longer and jumped up to follow him into the bathroom.

Brian had just stepped into the shower when the boy trotted in to join him. He held the door open for the youth, pulling him immediately under the hot rain from above. Sunshine let himself revel in the warmth from both the shower and the man he adored.

“My, my . . . you’re quite the eager little tiger this morning, aren’t you, Sunshine,” Brian commented as soon as he noted the boy’s obviously excited state. “I’m afraid I’ve created a monster,” he teased at the same time he reached down with a sudsy hand and caressed the boy’s cock with one long, lingering stroke.

*Mmmmmmm* was all Sunshine could think of to say at that moment.

“You up for one more, Sunshine?” Brian asked and then grinned at the boy’s eager nod. “Fucking insatiable . . .” The big man bent, left a kiss on the upturned nose then spun the smaller man around and pressed him up against the glass of the shower surround. “Shit! This ass is fucking perfect,” he added as he let his soap-filled palm glide over the swell of one ass cheek and then back up the trench of his crack. “You should come with a warning label, you know. ‘Caution: May Be Habit Forming’. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of this.”

Sunshine giggled. He was so pleased by the words. He wanted nothing more than to become this man’s habit. Especially if that habit involved the things Brian was now doing with his fingers. Talk about addictive. He knew for a fact he would never get enough of Brian. Or Brian’s fingers. Or his lips. Or his . . .

The rest of Sunshine’s thoughts on the matter were cut short at that point by the advent of Brian’s wonderful, soap-covered dick into his ass.

Twenty minutes later, when the two men eventually emerged from the bathroom, squeaky clean inside and out, Sunshine still couldn’t pull himself away from Brian. He felt like he needed to fill himself up with everything about the man. He had to look at him constantly. He wanted to touch him all the time. He felt like even going into the other room would put him too far away. And he knew that these feelings were ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never actually been loved by anyone before - or at least not for so long that he could barely remember the sensation - and he just couldn’t stand the thought of losing that connection for even a moment.

“Shit! I’m REALLY late now,” Brian complained as he looked at the clock once again “Could you run and start the coffee for me, Sunshine, while I get dressed. I’m going to need about a gallon of caffeine if I’m going to be at all productive this morning.

For a moment, Sunshine’s desire to stay as close as possible to Brian warred with his desire to be helpful to the man he idolized. Eventually, his training tipped the scales and he rushed off to obey the direct command he’d been issued. But, as soon as the coffee maker was percolating away, he rushed back upstairs so he could get another Brian fix. The AdExec was just putting on his suit jacket when the boy arrived. Sunshine gleefully settled onto the bed where he would have a front row seat for the rest of the Brian Getting Dressed Show.

“So, what’s on your agenda for the day,” Brian asked as soon as he was done adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Another masterpiece?”

“I . . . I could . . . maybe . . . go with you to your office today,” Sunshine ventured haltingly, still uncomfortable with voicing his wishes so blatantly. “I could help you with more artwork?”

“Sorry, kiddo. I don’t have any new projects for you,” Brian replied, shaking his head. “I think you’re all caught up on everything, including the whole Liberty Air campaign which would have taken my entire Art Department weeks to wade through, but which you managed single-handedly in just over a week. Besides, I figured you’d want to stay here and play with your art stuff some more. Work on another piece of epic brilliance or something?”

Sunshine lept off the bed and latched on to Brian’s arm before he could leave. “I’d rather be with you,” he suggested, trying to say it bravely and look the man in the eye while he spoke.

“Stop trying to be adorable, Sunshine,” Brian teased. “Adorable doesn’t work on me, you know. I’m immune.”

The joking tone worked. Sunshine smiled and dropped his eyes to the floor with shy embarrassment at being called ‘adorable’. Brian was then able to free his arm from the youth’s clasp long enough to escape from the bedroom. Sunshine didn’t let him get far, though, before jogging after him.

Brian headed straight for the kitchen and proceeded to fill his giant-sized travel mug with well-sugared coffee. What didn’t fit in the mug, he drank straight out of the glass carafe. Sunshine watched the man’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbing and fought back an urge to jump up and kiss it. Or lick it. Or bite it. Anything that would allow him to touch Brian again would be acceptable.

“Okay, well, I’m out of here,” Brian announced as soon as the coffee carafe was empty. “You have fun playing artist for the day.”

Sunshine felt a lump of panic welling up in his throat at the words of farewell. He knew it was stupid and irrational, but he couldn’t help his feelings. He felt that, if Brian left him, this whole happy bubble he’d been living in since the day before would pop and he’d be returned to his prior sad, lonely life.

He hurried over to the door, blocking Brian’s egress with his body, and reaching out to once again grab hold of the taller man’s arm. “Please . . . I . . . I don’t . . . want you to leave,” he muttered, realizing how pathetic the words sounded but unable to stop them.

“Stop, Justin,” Brian ordered.

“No! I like ‘Sunshine’,” he spoke up, more loudly this time. “I want to be ‘Sunshine’.”

“Fine. Sunshine, then.” Brian relented a little bit. “But you can’t come with me today. I’ve got to get some real work done and you’ll only be a distraction. Now, you go over there and do something magnificent with all that art stuff and I’ll be back before you know it. Okay?”

Brian reached up and let the back of his hand trail affectionately over the boy’s cheek. He was smiling indulgently down at the youth but Sunshine could still see the determination in his eyes. And even with all the newfound sense of self he was feeling, the boy couldn’t quite overcome his conditioning enough to argue the point. He knew he was being silly. He really did need to stay here and crank out some more artwork for the Bloom man. That would be the most productive thing he could do.

And Brian would come back for him. He wouldn’t leave him. He would still need his Sunshine come nightfall. Right?

“That’s my good boy. Now, go have fun. Later,”  Brian ordered and with one last kiss goodbye, the man left.

The boy felt all the sunshine in his soul dimming as soon as the loft door slammed shut. Brian was gone - off to work where he would do important things. The boy was once again alone. Even though he knew it was only for the day, he still felt like he’d been abandoned and rejected. Deserted. Bereft. Scared.

Thankfully, that’s when the PC’s conditioning kicked in again. The Master had left him with instructions as to what he was supposed to be doing for the day. He had told the boy to make more art. So the boy would go and paint and follow the Master’s orders. It gave him at least some purpose. He just hoped the day would pass quickly until Brian returned and he could be Sunshine again.

********

It was one of those crisp, clear fall days that seem to pop up unexpectedly after the first long spell of cold wet weather. Lindsey was feeling restless and she hadn’t been out of the house for more than a few minutes since the baby had been born, so the beautiful day was more than welcomed. She promptly bundled Gus up, got the stroller out and set off on an adventure.

She’d walked about a half a mile with no particular destination in mind, before she realized that her steps had led her near the Bloom Gallery. Bloom’s just happened to be one of her favorite art scene venues. She hadn’t been by in quite a while, though. The last few months of her pregnancy had been a whirlwind of planning and other busyness that had kept her away from her usual haunts. She’d heard that Simon Craswell had bought out the place during that time, so she was eager to pop in and see what changes her parents’ old friend had effected. The gallery had been looking a little run down in recent years and she was happy that it was going to get an infusion of capital. Maybe they’d get a better quality of artist in here now too.

As soon as she’d maneuvered the stroller inside, Lindsey was greeted by the tall debonair form of Sidney Bloom himself. “Lindsey! What a pleasant surprise! And who, pray tell, is this?” Bloom bent over the stroller and tickled the drooling infant’s cheek.

“This is my brand new son, Gus,” Lindz beamed with pride at the little bundle.

“Congratulations! I didn’t even know you and Mel were expecting. I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. I was wondering why you hadn’t been by lately. Now I know,” Sidney commented with a welcoming smile.

“It really has been a long time, I guess. My life has been pretty crazy since we decided to do this. We’ve been wanting to start a family for quite a while, but for the longest time Mel and I couldn’t agree on a donor. Then finally, after a LOT of convincing, we managed to talk an old college friend of mine into helping us out. And, nine months later, here we are.” Lindsey reached down, unlatched all the straps and excavated the baby out of the swathes of blankets in order to lift him up for better viewing ease.

“Well, I’m happy for you and Mel both. And I’m also happy that you’re back so I can show you all the big changes going on around here.” Sidney held out a hand to direct his guest further into the main part of the show room. “We’ve just finished our remodeling. I think you’ll be impressed. I’m pretty happy with how everything is coming along.”

Lindsey WAS impressed. The entire gallery had received a fresh coat of paint and there was new carpeting throughout. Several new display racks had also been set up and the artwork hanging there was fresh and modern as well. As she chatted with Sidney, he led her around and told her about the artists and their work, something that Lindz always loved. It made her feel like more of an insider. When she finally did go back to her teaching job at the local college, she would have even more to talk about related to the local art scene.

“And I can’t forget our newest offering. We just hung these today, in fact,” Bloom said, indicating a section near the center of the back wall. “You’ll be the first to see them and I’m excited to get your opinion. I think you’ll be just as amazed as I was when I first saw this stuff. Especially once I tell you who the artist is.”

As they came up to the grouping of three paintings, a charcoal drawing and a watercolor pastel, Lindsey found herself thoroughly enamored. There was so much depth to each. So much unbridled emotion. You could almost taste the pain and heartache in each one. Whoever the artist was, he or she was tremendously talented.

“These are AMAZING, Sidney,” Lindsey raved, turning to face the grinning gallery owner. “I haven’t seen anything like this outside a museum. They’re probably the best abstract impressionist pieces I’ve seen in years. Who is this artist and how did you manage to talk them into showing in Pittsburgh?” She looked around but didn’t see any placards listing the name of the artist or the titles of the works.

Bloom reached into his sport coat pocket and pulled out a stack of small foam board placards. He’d been on his way to put them up when Lindsey had arrived. He was glad, in a way, that she’d seen the artwork before he’d put up the exhibit labels, because that way he was sure that her reaction was genuine. And that reaction had been exactly what he’d been hoping for. If the enthusiasm this art teacher had shown was indicative of the reception the work would receive from the rest of the community, Bloom knew he had a hit on his hands.

With a little flourish, Bloom stepped forward, removed the adhesive backing on the first placard, and attached it to the wall next to the largest painting. Then he stepped back and waited while his guest read the sign that detailed not only the name of the artist but also his particular circumstances. If Bloom was hoping for more of the same eager, passionate praise as he’d first seen, though, his hopes were soon dampened. Instead, Lindsey stood there glaring at the sign, a definite frown on her face.

“Justin Kinney . . .” she questioned when she’d finally finished reading through the artist’s bio. “What the hell is this, Sidney?”

“Just what it says there on the sign. These pieces were created by a PC, if you can believe it,” Bloom gestured towards the placard, ignoring the hostile vibes he was getting from Lindsey. “Justin is an amazing young man too. So young, but with so much talent. I was totally blown away when I saw what he could do. I’m just thrilled that his owner was kind enough to let me show the boy’s work.”

“And his owner is . . .” she asked, although she already knew the answer and was only asking for confirmation.

“A local man by the name of Brian Kinney,” Bloom answered without pause. “Kinney happens to be the gallery’s new advertising man as well. I actually found out about Justin when I met with Brian to go over the marketing for our grand reopening. It turns out the PC has been helping out on the artwork for several ad campaigns as well. Once I saw that, I knew I just had to see the rest of his stuff. He’s really talented. And, not only is he a Personal Companion, but he’s only seventeen. Such talent at such a young age is truly remarkable. Can you imagine what he’ll be doing in ten years at this rate?”

“You can NOT display this shit!” Lindsey practically screamed as soon as Bloom paused long enough in his praise of the PC to let her get a word in. “This is a travesty, Sidney! It’s PC trash. No respectable gallery would let crap like this be shown!”

Sidney was taken aback by the woman’s vehemence, but wasn’t about to pull the display any time soon regardless. “I beg to differ. This artwork is brilliant and our gallery is proud to display it. You said yourself about two minutes ago that it was ‘amazing’. So, what exactly is your problem with it now, Lindsey?”

“My problem is that I don’t appreciate you shoving PC propaganda in my face. And I’m pretty sure the majority of your patrons won’t like it either,” Lindsey barked into the art dealer’s face.  “By showing this dross, you’re basically glorifying this little whore’s work and sanctioning his shameless lifestyle. It’s disgusting.”

“I disagree, Lindsey. I’ve met the kid and there’s nothing shameless or disgusting about him. Brian told me a little about the young man’s background and I can assure you that Justin’s a sweet boy who simply wound up in a bad situation. It’s not his fault he’s a PC. Apparently his father did this to him. So, whatever your problem is with PCs, it has nothing to do with Justin Kinney.”

“There is no ‘Justin Kinney’!” Lindsey snarled, even more angry now than before. “PCs aren’t allowed to have last names.”

“Technically, no, but it’s a longstanding convention to give them the last name of their owners,” Bloom maintained doggedly. “Why are you so upset by this, Lindsey? I don’t understand. I’ve known you for years. I never thought you of all people would be so closed-minded.”

“I’m NOT closed-minded. I just don’t approve of PCs. And I don’t know what the hell Brian was thinking when he bought that little slut, but I DO know that he would never condone the tramp using his name.” Lindsey turned away from Sidney and the offensive artwork, stomping back towards the stroller that had been left near the doorway. “I’ll be talking to both Brian and your new partner, Simon Craswell, about this, Sidney. If I have any say in the matter, you WILL be taking that offensive, tasteless excrement down before anyone else sees it. I will not have the father of my son being publicly associated with this kind of trash. As soon as Brian comes to his senses and gets rid of the stupid blond slut, he’ll thank me for making sure his name wasn’t dragged through the muck alongside the little bitch.”

With that, Lindsey angrily stormed out of the gallery, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the glass. Bloom was left standing there in disbelief, his staff staring from their places around the gallery, everyone at a complete loss as to how to react to the vitriol from the departed woman. Sidney shook his head and sighed. He hoped that this wasn’t a portent of the reception Justin’s work was going to receive. He truly did think the artist was remarkably talented. Maybe he’d been mistaken about the response he could expect. He hoped, though, that Lindsey’s response was atypical.

Either way, he figured he better call Kinney and give him a head’s up about what had just happened. Maybe Brian could better explain what he’d just experienced? It made no sense at all to Bloom.

Sidney handed the rest of the display placards off to the gallery manager as he walked past her on the way to his office. He wasn’t going to pull the display just yet. Not until he’d figured out what the hell was going on.