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Story Notes:

All recognizable people, places and things belong to CowLip or their respective owners. No Copyright Infringement is intended. All original characters, plot and places belong solely to this author.


The title of this work should speak for itself but I feel compelled to say this anyway....

First, I can promise you a happy ending but I will NOT promise you monogamy. I am NOT going to spend an inordinate amount of time working that into the plot just to please a few. I feel that the idea, when forced, limits the story's potential. That's not to say that it won't happen however, I will not intentionally move the story that way. I'm not that kind of writer.  To me that particular element should be and remain secondary to the overall feel of the story.  I would say there is a 98.5% chance that monogamy will not happen but I know you'll hold out hope for that 1.5%. Trust me, this story will be worth it.

Secondly, this is an AU work which means that you should not expect canon-based characterization. Sure it may happen when the plot calls for a reference to canon of some sort  but the reaction of the character may differ from what you remember. That said, I may have to add tags as I go along but for the most part the ones that are there are meant to be there.

Author's Chapter Notes:

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CHAPTER 1: DANGEROUS LIASIONS

 

It had already been a helluva fucking morning, and it hadn't even started yet. At eight am, Justin Taylor was ready to climb into his own bed and stay there for the rest of the day. His trick from last night... James, Joseph, Jerry or whatever-the-fuck his name was, became a nuisance the minute he opened his mouth this morning. Truthfully, he was a degenerate even while Justin was fucking him into the mattress, but since he was getting his dick serviced, the nonsense spilling out of the man's mouth could be overlooked. Justin knew better and should have stuck to his usual type.

 

Despite having the most enticing ass Justin had seen in weeks, it was clear that Jehosephat...Jacob...John, was definitely the ‘relationship' type that Justin had always avoided. But he was hot, with a tight ass that wouldn't quit, so Justin had quelled his instantaneous need to run the other way, ignored the red flags and went home with the dude. When he'd woken up to find his dick pleasantly encased in the warm wet mouth of Jeremy...Jeremiah...Jonas(?), Justin had stretched and accepted the blow job. Having a nice hard cum first thing in the morning was always a pleasant way to start the day. Justin reached up and grabbed the trick, tossing him onto the bed beside him.

 

He quickly sheathed himself and rode Jude...June...Josh...hard until he came. Afterward, Justin found his still-hard cock back into the greedy man's mouth being sucked with vigor. Everything was right in Justin's world at that moment. It wasn't until the ‘J' person decided that after swallowing Justin's cum that it would be a good day for them to spend the day in bed getting to know each other that Justin decided it was time to get the fuck out of there...FAST! Justin dressed in record time, grabbed his motorcycle keys while whatever-his-name-was in the shower and opted to hit the nearest coffee shop on his way to his condo.

 

After he ordered his usual mocha latte, and was about to sit down to enjoy his most anticipated and silent (thank fuck that coffee didn't talk back or make plans) pleasure of the day, he'd bumped into a whirling dervish dressed to the nines, with his briefcase swinging and his head stuck in the New York Times business section. "You think you might want to watch where you're going?" Justin said eying the stranger up and down. From what Justin could see of the clothes and shoes, the man's taste was impeccable. But when he looked up slowly from his perusal, he was pleased to see that the view had only gotten even better.

 

Brian Kinney was having the morning straight from Hell. First, had been the trick who stayed too fucking long (And just how the fuck had he allowed that to happen?). Then there was the fortunate arrival of Mikey, to kick out said trick, which almost immediately became an exercise in patience during his queen-out of century (apparently he and Ben were at odds over their adopted son). But to add to Brian's trip to Brimstone City was the call from waspy Mother Earth herself, Lindsey, reminding him that he was supposed to have dinner with her and the Bull from Bitchville, who just happened to be carrying his second child later that evening. If Brian could have remade himself into Flat Stanley and mailed himself to a land far, far away he would have!

 

But then again.... "Perhaps I didn't want to watch where I was walking. If I had, I might have missed you," Brian answered the smart-mouthed blond in front of him.

 

Justin answered the man with a smirk of his own. "Charming. Well, seeing as I have what I want, I should probably get going." Justin made to move past the brunet, but was stopped by an arm blocking his path. "Hey..."

 

"What's your hurry? We're only just beginning to know each other," Brian purred in the young blond's ear. Damn he smelled good...like sex and forbidden candy.

 

"I have a meeting to get to soon, but perhaps I'll see you around. By the way, my name's Justin.

 

"Brian. And yeah maybe we'll see each other around. Or perhaps we could see each other in the restroom before you leave."

 

Justin laughed heartily. "Ordinarily, I might take you up on that. But I just finished fucking, so I'm sated for awhile. Later, Brian." There. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Adonis.

 

Brian laughed and shook his head as he watched the small-statured, bubble butt blond's retreat. "Later, Justin," he called back, and was gratified to see the sunshine bright smile grace the younger man's face.

 

All throughout the day, Brian kept flashing back to the last time he'd seen the delectable blond. The irony was that even though the coffee shop was close to his house, he very rarely went there. The only reason this morning was different was his need to get out of the loft and away from Michael as fast as he possibly could. Between Lindsay and Melanie with baby number two on the way, and Michael clinging to him and their youth as if he were a drowning man, Brian had begun to feel suffocated. Thankfully he had Kinnetik and a few other business ventures, which required him to be sane and allowed him to focus on more than ‘the family' and their problems.

 

The knock on the door interrupted his reverie.

 

"Morning Bri," Ted said as he entered the office. "I have the latest specs on that company we were thinking of picking up. Taylor Industries is definitely looking for a new Ad agency to work with. Apparently, the CEO of the company has decided to dump Vanguard due to their overpriced, inferior work."

 

Brian chuckled at that. "Well Gardner had to know it was bound to happen, since the best of the best work here. You can't beat good taste. And fuck if we're not worth every penny we charge. So what exactly do they sell other than electronics?"

 

"The owner, Mr. Taylor, has branched the company out into the video game market. According to their return last quarter, which is public record, the move was extremely smart and forward-thinking on his part. With one of the leading video game brands not releasing a new gaming console outside of their current bestseller since 2014, while the other company isn't coming out with a new system until next year, he's in prime position to make a killing in the market."

 

"Strange that some old guy would be thinking of marketing to kids, isn't it?" Brian asked, genuinely puzzled by the company's new direction.

 

"That's where you're wrong, Brian. First of all, the new CEO is actually only twenty-six and about to be twenty-seven in March. Secondly, this isn't Mr. Taylor's first foray into the video game market. He was the inventor of Rage I, II and III all before he sold the rights when he was eighteen, making him one of the youngest millionaires in the world, even before he inherited two multi-billion dollar corporations. I would say that he is highly qualified to take the company to the next level. If we can land the account, no doubt he'll catapult us, too."     

 

"Well I guess we better set up a meeting then," Brian said as he reached for his phone. "Cynthia, what does my schedule look like for next Tuesday?"

 

"So far, you have John Remson flying in for next Wednesday's meeting, but you're to have dinner with him on Tuesday night. After the Remson meeting, you're supposed to fly out on Wednesday night for the meeting with Brown Athletics on Thursday."

 

"Wait- why am I flying out to meet with Leo Brown? I thought it was his turn to come here."

 

Cynthia sighed. Brian was notorious for these kinds of questions. "It was, but remember he broke his leg when he slipped on one of his wife's pearls while they were dancing?"

 

Brian chuckled at that. He remembered that it had taken everything in him not to laugh while Leo's secretary was on the phone relaying the news. However, she had no such qualms about the slight chuckles, which escaped her during the call. "It's no problem, Cynthia. I'll be on a flight and in Chicago in time for the meeting. In the meantime, I need you to get Frank in here. We're going after the Taylor account, and I want my best on this."

 

"That would be fine as long as you don't have Frank work on it," Cynthia muttered, but Brian heard her.

 

"I know you and he have had your differences in the past--"

 

"So have you," Cynthia countered.

 

"But I really want to ask him who he thinks is the best qualified on the staff to handle this account. This will be their exclusive assignment for the next week."

 

"I can save you the trouble, you know. Tell Frank you want Marcia Jackson. I know for a fact that she's not overly busy right now. In fact, she is under-utilized due to Frank's jealousy."

 

It was Brian's turn to sigh. He knew that there were problems between Frank and the artistic staff he was in charge of, but not to the degree Cynthia was hinting at. "Fine. Call down and tell Frank that I want to see Marcia. What makes you so sure she's the right person for the job?"

 

"Considering that she graduated PIFA last year with the second highest GPA and has a secondary degree in Advertising, which she paid for herself, I would say that she's you in an artistic-head-in-the-clouds-but-determined sort of way. I personally think you two will work well together. And I'm never wrong."

 

Both Brian and Ted laughed at her statement. It was true. Cynthia was the lifeblood of Kinnetik whereas Brian was the guts of the organization. They had been working together over ten years both starting in the bowels of Ryder Advertising fresh out of college- he as an Assistant Copywriter and she as a Research Assistant. It had been a lot of grunt work in the early days of their careers until he saw his opportunity and brought Cynthia along for the ride.

 

Together they were always ahead of the trend instead of riding the current wave first with Ryder, then with Vanguard when it changed hands and now with Kinnetik. Cynthia had proven her worth over and over again; he would have been a fool not to trust Cynthia's judgment over the years. And Brian Kinney was never a fool. "Okay, Cyn. Get her down here asap. I think I have an idea of how to win the account."

 

"Care to share, Bri?" Ted asked. He had total faith in Brian and from what he knew of Justin Taylor on paper, they would get along well. This could certainly boost Kinnetik's bottom line, which is what Ted was most assuredly interested in.

 

"I'm going to go for a Rage-ian track. I know since he sold the rights we can't use the direct images, but we can use the same concept then apply it to the advertising. Since he's a young twenty-something there's two ways to market this: either we can up the sex factor, or we could downplay it. It really depends on who he'll be targeting the gaming system to."

 

"If it helps you any, there will be two systems marketed. One will be for children, and geared towards education while making it fun. He scored 1500 on his S.A.T., so that was a big factor for him. It couldn't have been fun studying all those hours to make that type of score."

 

"1500? What the fuck? Poor nerdy guy," Brian commented, shaking his head. He couldn't help the subsequent snicker though.

 

Ted laughed. "I wouldn't say that. Besides who knows how many times he's gotten laid by now? He's a fucking billionaire, so ass is just falling at his feet by now, I'm certain."

 

"Very possible but continue, Ted."

 

"The other video game system is going to be geared toward adults eighteen and up. Although the kid games can be played on the adult system, the reverse cannot happen. That will make parents of young children particularly happy, because it means they won't be able to sneak around and play the games rated Mature."

 

Brian was impressed with Ted's knowledge. "It definitely sounds like it will be a success. Now we just have to come up with a kick-ass campaign to wow Nerd Guy and all will be well."

 

"Well if anyone can do that, you can Brian," Ted assured him.

 

"The fact that Gardner couldn't meet the vision of young Taylor is definitely in our favor. In spite of your age Theodore, you can be young and hip when you want to be."

 

Ted laughed again. "I'll leave young and hip to you. I'll happily sit and play with my numbers, while doing the occasional presentation to Son of Dandy Lube."

 

"You better not let Blake know about that indiscretion. He won't let you hang out with me anymore," Brian said as he smiled. He really did enjoy this ‘new' Ted. He had really proven himself to Brian after his foray into recreational drug use. Ted had become a self-assured, self-reliant man and finally had self-esteem. Brian was proud of him....but he'd never tell the older man that. "Get the fuck back to your office and crunch the numbers. I expect a full financial report by five, and a preliminary figure on how much all this will cost, so that I can have legal draw up a contract."

 

"You're that sure we'll get it?"

 

"If Cynthia says this girl, Marcia, is the best artist we have for this particular account, and if she can follow my instructions to the letter, we'll get it."

 

Cynthia, who had been listening to Ted and Brian's conversation while arranging Marcia's entrance into Brian's office, finally spoke. "Don't worry Ted. Marcia will have me to back her up. I've been majoring in Kinney-speak for quite a long time. Just don't scare the poor girl to death, Brian."

 

"What? I'm harmless," Brian defended himself.

 

"You're also full of shit. And I mean that in the most loving way possible." Cynthia hung up, chuckling even as she heard Brian and Ted laughing at her response.

 

The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. After meeting with Marcia, Brian had to admit that Cynthia was once again, correct in her assumptions. Marcia, although reasonably cleaned up in a black short-sleeved silk shirt and a well-tailored pair of slacks for the professional setting of Kinnetik, was everything Brian could never have imagined she could be. Jet black hair which was parted neatly in the center hung long in two ponytails on the side of her head. Her eyes, which were probably the greenest shade he could ever recall seeing, shone like emeralds from between long lashes lined with kohl.

 

Marcia had numerous piercings in her ears and one in her eyebrow, but what really caught Brian's attention the most were her tattoos. Along each arm were some of the most fascinating, and intricate designs he had ever seen. He reached for one of them, raising an eyebrow at the choice of subject and asked, "So I guess you're a fan of Rage, huh?"

 

Marcia smiled brightly before answering, "Definitely. I'm also a big fan of Rage's creator."

 

"Justin Taylor? How so?" Brian couldn't help but be intrigued.

 

"He was the only one to beat me out for the highest GPA in PIFA. You should really see his work."

 

"I think right now, I'm more interested in seeing yours," Brian said, while filing away that bit of information for later. It seemed that his meeting with Justin Taylor was about to become very interesting indeed.

 

Marcia pulled out her portfolio, and handed it over to Brian. As he went perused it, Brian went through everything he wanted for the campaign, while she drew out different scenarios. Marcia knew when he wanted something changed, even before he spoke on it. She also had no qualms about giving her opinion to Brian, even weighing the pros and cons of his idea against the current trends in the target markets. It helped that, she wasn't only familiar with the Rage games, but was a bonafide gamer in her own right during her off hours.

 

So Brian considered her an expert regarding the art and graphics on this account. He had to admit, if only to himself, that the girl was great; definitely a hidden gem in the sea of artists he employed. After about two hours of steady work, and upon Brian's orders, Cynthia had worked with Ted and Marcia to set up a private office specifically for her own use. It was to be accessible only by a key code which she, Brian, Cynthia and Ted had. As Cynthia hinted, Marcia did not trust Frank.

 

Brian knew the time was coming that something would have to be done about his current Art Director, but he was less anxious to have it be so. His main concern at the moment was not only Marcia's talent, but her ability to get along with Cynthia and Ted. But from the running commentaries the three of them had kept up since he and Marcia had emerged from his office, Brian no longer felt the need to worry in that quarter. He even decided that he owed Cynthia a big raise, plus a finder's fee after all was said and done. Being able to hone in on Marcia's knowledge of the franchise and gaming, along with her artistic abilities, Brian felt reassured that they would woo Mr. Taylor to Kinnetik in no time.

 

At seven, he decided to call it quits for the day. He knew he had to put in the appearance at Muncher Mansion before Lindsey had a fit and Melanie would once again mouth off, even though she was carrying his kid. Sometimes he still just wanted to push her down in the cellar and lock her in. Terrible? Maybe, but Melanie could sometimes evoke violent fantasies that way.

 

He just hoped that her poor attitude wouldn't affect his child that way.

 

Later he planned to meet Em, Ted and Blake at Woody's and then off to Babylon. He paused as he began to turn off the lights in his office. Part of him felt really guilty for hoping that Michael and Ben stayed home tonight. It wasn't that he didn't want to see them; he just didn't want to be a witness to their arguments. He was tired.

 

All Brian wanted to do was smoke, drink, and fuck which was not too much to ask in his book. With that thought in mind, he headed out to fulfill both his duty and his pleasure.

 

Justin's day had gone in a similar vein to Brian's. The biggest surprise was getting a call from someone named Cynthia Moore regarding a meeting with Kinnetik. He knew from research that the up and coming ad agency had several CLIO awards under their belts from the last four years, beating out several New York firms and Vanguard Agency as well. He could almost understand how and why that had happened. Gardner Vance was a man with very little vision of what today's market actually looked like.

 

Sadly, that mediocrity transferred itself down to his staff as well. His grandfather had used Vanguard for years before Justin inherited the company. The sales weren't bad, per se, but there was always room for improvement. And if Justin was nothing else, he was an overachiever. He was the best at what he did and expected the same of everyone who worked for him; nothing else would do.

 

When he advised the board that he was taking the meeting with Kinnetik, there were some grumbles, particularly from Arnold Scheffield, who was his grandfather's right hand man before his passing. Justin did his best to ignore him until the man thought to intimidate him.

 

"Your grandfather would NEVER agree to meet with a man like Brian Kinney," the older man spat venomously at the younger.

 

Justin smirked before he made the statement he was sure to piss Arnold off. "I'm sure that's why my grandfather had the forethought to leave the company to ME, and not YOU. Kinnetik is a forward-thinking company. And although we at Taylor Industries are steeped in tradition, we also have become a company which thinks outside of the box. So we're at an impasse, I guess."

 

"He was supposed to leave it to Craig, Justin."

 

"But he didn't, Arnold. So now that we've established for the millionth time that my sperm donor was passed over in the inheritance line, we can move on to business. Now if you'd like to keep your job, I'd advise you to shut up and accept what is, and not what you want. Anyone else?"

 

Justin looked around noticing the others who looked as if they wanted to say something, but didn't dare. He and his grandfather had talked before he passed away, and although no one else knew the reason of why Craig was passed over, Justin did. The man was a bigot. The funny thing about Arnold wanting Craig in charge was that the older man was a closet case of the first order. The only other people who knew that were Craig and Grandpa Taylor,  since he and Arnold were best friends.

 

Had Arnold had his way, Craig would have fired the man without good reason or severance pay, but Arnold didn't need to know that.

 

Continuing on with the meeting, and looking every now and again at Arnold's fuming face, Justin explained the new track the company was entering. With the video game market booming, it was in Taylor Industries best interest to grow with it. The fact that most units also offered live-streaming worked to their advantage as well. Although their electronics line remained high-end, they could afford to stretch their imagination and invest in a method of longevity for the company and that was not based in televisions and stereos alone. He motioned for Margaret Covington- a really old name for someone only twenty-seven- to take the floor.

 

He had taken to calling her Maggie the Magpie, but in a good way. In all honesty, she was generally a quiet sort, except in the arena of numbers, which was why she was his most trusted accountant, and kept people like Arnold from squawking at him at every turn. "Justin, the new market strategy you came up with is ready. Everyone, I included a copy with the other portfolios for the meeting. It's the red folder." Once she was assured that everyone found the correct item. she began, "From the layout and the beta testing, which cost only a fraction of what we're looking to spend on advertising..."

 

"...And just how much are we spending on advertising?" Arnold asked in his surly voice. If there was any other way, Justin would have him removed from the board while he would still be able to keep his job. But his grandfather's instructions in terms of his best friend were clear.

 

Gritting his teeth and swallowing hard before answering, Justin managed to be civil when he spoke. "We're spending a quarter of a million dollars on advertising to start."

 

"That's preposterous! Your grandfather..." Arnold raised his voice in protest.

 

"Is NOT HERE; he DIED in case you've forgotten," Justin yelled back.

 

The room grew silent immediately, each member of the board afraid to move or breathe out of rhythm for fear that the usually-patient and gracious young man would begin to hand out pink slips. Most of the staff and Board members had learned early on that Justin Taylor was not a man to cross, or question. He was as decisive in his decisions as his grandfather before him and he had no problem displaying his authority when warranted. And this was one of those times. Justin cleared his throat again and took a calming breath before looking at his grandfather's oldest living friend again.

 

Making sure to hold Arnold's eyes captive, and letting every ounce of cold and controlled fury he felt show through his own, he began speaking. His volume was so low, that all of occupants of the room leaned forward in their chairs to hear him, but there was no mistaking his words. "Understand this. My grandfather knew what the plan was before he died and left this company to me. So this is not as out of left field as you would think, Arnold. In any event, if you can't get with the new program and regime around here, you will find yourself tossed out on your ass. I will not be harassed, bullied, undermined and any other action you can think of to get me to do what you think I should.

 

"In the grand scheme of this company, and the new direction we are moving in, your old ways and ideals do NOT matter. One more outburst from you in this regard, and I will ban you from all further meetings. The next step from that will be out the door with only half of your pension in tact. This is the last warning you are going to get, and it's ONLY being given out of respect for my late grandfather's memory and your age. Maggie, please continue."

 

"Sure, Justin," she said, hiding her smile within her folded lips. She really couldn't stand Arnold either. Since she was a third-generation accountant for the Taylors and their respective businesses, she knew all about what Arnold was planning to do behind Justin's back. And she wasn't having any of it!

 

Arnold's ultimate plan was to force Justin into turning over the company to Craig, who he felt he could manipulate. He didn't agree with the fact that the first thing Justin did when he took over as CEO of Taylor Industries was to fire Craig Taylor. He did it after finding out that Craig was embezzling company funds to keep his mistress in style within a New York penthouse with an unlimited spending account. As his accountant, Maggie took great pride in the knowledge that she had saved Justin's inheritance from being squandered, which was something her own father would not have done since he was also loyal to Craig. It was the hidden connection between the three of them, which was always concerning to Maggie.

 

But she would keep her own counsel until asked.

 

Clearing her throat, she continued with her comments before Arnold had so rudely interrupted. "Honestly, Justin, if we're going to spend this amount of money in the advertising, the company really can afford to go all out for it. Brian Kinney used to be a partner in Vanguard Agency before he quit due to a difference of opinion with Gardner Vance. It wasn't a slight, or impulsive move on his part. He didn't agree with taking on a very specific high-profile client, and Gardner had told him that if he didn't he was fired. Due to being ethically and morally outraged, Mr. Kinney decided to quit. The good news for him was that there was a clause within his contract with Vanguard that had alluded to that very situation. It stated very clearly that Brian could not be forced to work with any client in which the business relationship was not conducive to the growth of the company. Since he couldn't work with the client in good conscious and wouldn't renege on that, Gardner had to buy Mr. Kinney out of his contract and the latter used the money to start Kinnetik."

 

"Out of curiosity, how much was letting Brian Kinney out of his contract worth?" Justin was dumbfounded by how much Maggie knew about Kinney and Kinnetik. Well the man sure isn't dumb.

 

"The contract stated that if Mr. Kinney was to be bought out of his partnership, he would receive seventy-five percent of all the accounts he'd brought in. Mr. Kinney brought in ninety percent of Vanguard's total accounts four years ago."

 

"Holy shit!" Justin whispered. "Kinnetik is a multi-million dollar company. I always wondered how it was able to reach that status in so short a time, since it's still relatively new."

 

"I'm on pretty good terms with the CFO of Kinnetik. Ted Schmidt was my mentor during my internship at Wertschafter's Accounting. He and I haven't lost touch. On an even more personal note, I think we would be fools not to go with Kinnetik." At Arnold's look of contempt, she decided to remind him that she owned more stock than he did in the company. "It's a move that Mr. JJ would have approved of, and as a major shareholder, I also do." That ought to calm Mr. High-and-Mighty Turncoat Scheffield down.

 

Justin Joseph Taylor, the current CEO's grandfather would have wholeheartedly approved of a man like Brian Kinney in more ways than one. But that last thought she would keep to herself. Smiling inwardly, she watched as Justin digested the information she'd given on paper and her personal thoughts. That was one of the things she loved about Joseph and Justin. They never discounted her opinions or her business acumen the way Arnold and Craig often did.

 

And she knew that Justin was filing away the information she had given for a later time to ask more questions about it. 

 

"Are we done with the new business for Taylor Industries for today?" Justin asked his assistant.

 

"We're okay for this meeting, Justin," Mark Evans answered. When Justin took over as the CEO of Taylor, he had called Mark in to act as his assistant. They hadn't seen each other for many years prior, but had kept in touch especially after Justin sold the rights to Rage. Although that was Justin's baby, the blond had paid Mark a hefty sum for the idea which sparked it. "Next on the agenda is Winston Inc., and then the conference call with Microsoft."

 

Justin rolled his eyes, but honestly he was enjoying himself. There weren't many twenty-somethings that could say they were in charge of two multi-billion dollar companies, yet still receiving residual income from a business venture that had been thought up in his teens. Just like with Taylor Industries, Justin had inherited Winston Inc. from his maternal grandfather, Matthew. Originally it was supposed to go to his mother, but after she married Craig, it was mandated that the company go to the first-born grandchild which just happened to be Justin. But unlike Craig, who was embittered by the turn of events, Jennifer Winston-Taylor was damned happy about it.

 

She acted as the Chief of Operations for the company and was perfectly happy in that role.

 

"Am I scheduled to go over to the building or are they coming to me today?"

 

"We're here, Sweetheart," he heard the greeting from the door. "Hello everyone and Arnold," Jennifer said. Ever the well-bred WASP, she had no problem speaking to anyone...except Arnold, who she had never been able to stand.

 

"Jennifer, you're looking well," Arnold replied frostily.

 

"Nice of you to notice," she responded coolly, before turning to Justin. "Are we early?"

 

Justin smiled at her. She didn't fool him for a second. "No. You're actually right on time, Mom. This meeting is over."

 

They watched as everyone, except for Maggie and Mark, collected their briefcases and portfolios then file out of the room. Arnold stared daggers at both Jennifer and Justin before leaving, which the blond Taylors returned without flinching. As soon as Arnold left the room, Justin shook his head and rubbed his temples before returning to the head of the conference room table. It had already been a trying day, but it was nowhere near over yet.

 

Jennifer noticed her son's tension, and also knew the source. "If you keep frowning like that you're going to end up old and wrinkled before your time," she joked and was gratified at the resulting laugh from her son.

 

"You know that's not going to work on me. As much as you frowned at me when I was a kid, you still don't have any," Justin replied.

 

"Why do you think I spend a fortune on that anti-aging shit from France?"

 

"Because you're a shopaholic?" Justin asked laughingly, while dodging the stack of papers in her hand. "Well come on, let's get down to business, shall we? I have a conference with Microsoft after this."

 

Jennifer nodded. She worried about Justin, but she knew he needed to work as much as possible. It kept his mind from running amok most days and kept his depression at bay. She was just happy that his smile was there front and center today of all days. She mentally sighed knowing that it was possible the change could occur at any time; she just hoped it wouldn't.

 

"The new amounts that Maggie listed are right here," Jennifer started.

 

Justin took a look at the financial reports of their real estate/ interior design and fabric empire. It would surprise most people how business savvy Grandpa Winston was. While his peers and their families invested in air travel and railroad, he did too. But he also invested heavily in real estate and surprisingly, in fabric. He put as much money into commercial properties as he did into silk, cotton, wool, leather and even at some point that Justin wasn't sure about, lycra.

 

His grandfather then had the forethought to combine his businesses so that when one expanded, the other parts of his company did as well. As a result, whenever they rented or sold a property- be it house or business- it was fully furnished with high-end materials from Winston's, and specific to the location. There was even an option to keep the furnishings once the occupants relocated, which could be attached to the initial sale price of the property or to hire the interior design staff to decorate the new location at a discounted rate once they moved. Many took the second option, which in turn grew the interior design portion of the business. Noting all of this, Justin was in awe of his grandfather's genius and at the same time appalled at how much people were willing to spend on high-end furnishings.

 

But those same people were the cornerstone of the Winston Empire so he didn't balk too much when handed the responsibility.  

 

"How's the production schedule?" he asked.

 

"So far everything is right on target," Jennifer replied.

 

"Why only ‘so far?'" Justin asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

 

"I heard from Katherine," Jennifer replied, then dropped her eyes.

 

Katherine Goodall, otherwise known as Kitty LaRue, was his father's current girlfriend. But she also worked for Justin. He had given her the nickname because she looked like one of his dad's favorite burlesque stars from yesteryear. "Let me guess, Craig is refusing to let her leave the house while failing to actually get off the couch himself."

 

Jennifer nodded. "He's threatened her more times than she could count in the last week. He's also drinking a lot more. Fortunately the last time he locked her in the basement, Kitty had the good sense to put her phone in her bra and called me."

 

"And why am I just being told about this now?" The anger in his voice was more than evident. No he wasn't thrilled with the fact that she'd taken up with Craig Taylor. However, that was her choice, but he didn't want Kitty hurt either.

 

"Neither she nor I wanted to worry you, Sweetheart. You are under a lot of pressure trying to handle both companies. Neither of us thought the situation would escalate like this."

 

"Really? Why not? I mean sure, we all tried to warn her about his abusive tendencies, and she remained willfully blind to his supposed charm. But now, add excessive drinking and violence to the mix, and what do we have? A fucking monster!"

 

"Craig was never like this before, Justin. He was..."

 

"Emotionally and mentally abusive, Mother. There is no better way to put it. He was that way with you, with me and with Molly before she..." He cut off his statement and closed his eyes, willing the tears that were threatening to come away. He couldn't afford to rehash all of this now, not while Jennifer was dealing with her own pain. "Look, I'll fly out to New York tomorrow. Call Kitty and tell her I'm coming, but tell her not to tell Craig under any circumstances."

 

"What are you going to do?"

 

"I don't know yet, but I'll decide when I get there. What I do know is that this cannot and will not continue. It's not only bad for Kitty's health- which is most important- it's also bad for business. She was the Production Coordinator and Buyer for Winston Incorporated long before she was Craig Taylor's plaything. He needs to be reminded of that and she needs to remember it.

 

This isn't her fault, and I'm not blaming her per se. But long story short, Kitty is the breadwinner in that household right now. However, she has to work in order to get paid. This isn't charity or a babysitting service, and I refuse to let Craig treat it as such. He's spoiled and he feels entitled; needs to grow the fuck up already, and he needs to be told! If Kitty's not willing to stand up for herself so that she can do her fucking job, that's fine. But then don't expect me to pay her salary either. Although I would hate to do it, she is replaceable and I won't hesitate to do it. Everyone works here."

 

Jennifer was a little taken aback by Justin's stern tone, but she couldn't disagree with him. Justin displayed the same work ethic her father did, and there was no doubt that he would be proud of the businessman his grandson had blossomed into. He too would have tried to solve the problem before issuing such a resolute promise. Jennifer instinctively knew this was Craig and Kitty's last chance before Justin took swift and definitive action. "Justin just... just be careful. Craig is a loose cannon right now," Jennifer warned.

 

"Don't worry, Mom. If anyone can handle Craig- fag or not- it's me! Now let's get back to the matter at hand."

 

Within the next four hours, Justin had finished up the meeting for Winston Inc., having also decided that a new direction was needed to increase sales, to include the younger and hipper market- a decision wholly supported by Jennifer. Justin also finished his conference call with Microsoft, which was kind of hilarious considering he was releasing his own video game system. But per his contract with them as a recurring consultant for the Rage franchise, and since they were planning on releasing a new game in the near future, he would adhere to it and test out the new game. He managed to speak with Daphne just before her next meeting over in Italy. As his International Representative in Winston Inc., her job was paramount to keeping a foothold in Europe. She would be back at the end of the week.

 

Hopefully I can convince her to finally take a much needed vacation.

 

He laughed silently at that last thought, and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He was tired. For the past seven years, it had been non-stop work for both of them. Between graduating college- first CMU and then PIFA- plus the death of both of his grandfathers and managing the subsequent inheritances, Justin didn't know what a vacation was. But work was what got him through the rough times, much like today. Would that it could help me at night.

 

Justin shook off the morbid thought before it had a chance to take root. He had a lot of ‘living' to do, but mostly he had a lot of forgetting to do. Making his way out of Taylor Industries, Justin decided to go and do just that. Hours later, Justin found himself in the middle of the dance floor at one of his favorite haunts... Babylon. Having already been there for the better part of two hours, Justin had about four shots of his favorite, Jim Beam, had done a bump and had just swallowed a tab of E.

 

He was feeling no pain. The potential trick du jour of the moment was grinding his young tight ass up against him to the hypnotic beat pulsing from the deafening speakers up above. Justin could feel the vibration throughout his sweat-drenched body even as the confetti fell from on high. He was flying and loving every fucking, lustful minute of it. Unbeknownst to the blond at the center of Club Babylon's universe, he was being watched surreptitiously from the second floor catwalk.

 

Brian loved the new layout of his club. The bar, conveniently placed at his back, and the lounge and seating areas at the end of the semi-narrow corridor afforded Brian an unhindered view of the dance floor beneath his feet. Gone was the former metal floor which reminded Brian of the many fire escapes he'd seen which littered buildings in places like New York City; instead everything around him was high-end glass and chrome, much more his style. The third floor of the club held his office, the manager's office and Brian's personal VIP lounge. Yes! Babylon was definitely the playground of Brian Kinney, the undisputed king in the gayborhood known as Liberty Avenue.

 

And as such, it was almost time to claim its newest attraction as his own... at least for the night. Brian watched continuously as the blond he'd met as Justin earlier that day grinded sensuously to beat of the music. The blond's eyes were closed, his luscious lips slightly parted from his exertions as his hands roamed the body molded to him. His delectable ass was encased in the tightest jeans Brian could imagine the two globes snugly fitting in; the boy was definitely a welcome sight within his kingdom. He kept feeling the tug on his arm, an action he was deliberately trying to ignore.

 

"Brian? Oh Briiiaaan.... HEY BRIAN, I'm talking to you," came the whiny, insistent voice of the man standing next to him.

 

"What? What is it, Mikey?" Brian asked as he refocused his attention back on the dance floor, even as he extricated his arm forcefully from the hand gripping him.

 

Ted, Blake and Emmett were approaching from his left side, having made their trip to the bar for their own refreshment. Emmett smiled wide at Brian already knowing where his full attention lay. "Michael, can't you see the man is busy?" Emmett asked while he peeped the blond. "Mmm-hmm, I sure wouldn't mind being busy with him myself."

 

"Put your eyes back in their sockets, Honeycutt. The guy's a bottom," Brian said.

 

"With an ass like that you'd think so but not from what I've heard, Mr. Kinney," Emmett singsonged. "By the way... Don't call me Honeycutt. Anyway, I have it on good authority that he only tops Tops and he only uses the Twinkies for snacks. They say he's just as good as you are."

 

"Oh yeah? Where did you hear that?" Brian was intrigued by the new information about Justin. The enigmatic blond had been plaguing this thoughts all day, like a puzzle that Brian wanted to solve. He looked young and innocent but their conversation that morning and the way he grinded on the Twinkie snugged up to him, bespoke of sex and unabashed sensuality. If nothing else, Brian was a committed hedonist and by all accounts coming from Emmett, Justin was too.

 

Brian tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear: "Besides, no one's better than Brian," Michael chimed in. "You need to get your source checked, Em."

 

Emmett rolled his eyes at Michael better known as the ‘Brian Kinney fanclub of One'. Personally he loved Brian like a friend or the mischievous older brother who he could feel ambivalent about at times. But Michael had the whole hero-worship persona down to a science. Em always wondered what would happen if someone restarted Brian's long-dead heart and he fell in love for the first time in his life. He didn't think Michael would take it well, even though he had his own ‘hunka-hunka  burning love' called Ben Bruckner.

 

"If you say so, Michael, but Ted was with me when I heard it. Does he need his ears checked too?"

 

Ted shook his head. "Leave me out of this, Em. Besides the blond in question is now heading to the backroom. I would dare say that Brian could definitely find out what he needed to know if he went and took his own peek."

 

Brian smiled for the first time that evening. "Why Theodore, I think that's the best idea I've heard since leaving the office. I think I will." Brian began to move off but was impeded by an insistent hand again.

 

"But Brian, I really need to talk to you!" Michael insisted.

 

Brian sighed loudly and shook the hand off again. Closing his eyes for a split second, he reined in his temper before calmly saying the words he knew Michael dreaded to hear. "Later, Mikey." And without further ado, he proceeded to the nearest steps on his way to catch the blond in action.

 

Upon entering the backroom, he was greeted by the sights and smells which never failed to stir his senses. Men, lots of men, were either fucking or getting fucked; the cacophony of voices demanding harder, faster, or shouting ‘I'm cumming' reached his ears. Brian looked around taking notice of everyone and everything in the blue-lit room when he finally spotted his prey. Standing against the opposite wall, it didn't take but a moment for his cock to be out and down an anonymous throat.

 

Justin was off to the side with a twink of his own, getting sucked off. Brian watched as he gripped the kid's head hard, guiding the mouth on his cock. Brian nearly laughed aloud as he saw Justin pinch the nostrils of the younger man's nose shut even as he forcefully shoved his full length down the kid's throat. Only when the kid gagged did Justin let it go.

 

"Now you know what I mean when I say swallow around my cock, right?" Justin asked the kid and when he nodded, Justin smiled. "Good boy. Now swallow until you make me cum."

 

Brian had to hand it to the blond; his brand of teaching had the desired results. Justin began to fuck the boy's mouth just as another trick came up to Brian and offered to suck him. Brian tilted his head in the affirmative, never taking his eyes off Justin and his own trick. The moment the blue eyes opened and locked with his hazel eyes, Brian was transfixed. He was gratified at once when Justin's eyes registered surprise at first and then obvious lust. Brian matched his movements in the trick's mouth to Justin's, wishing that it was the pink, luscious lips of the blond staring at him.

 

For Justin's part, he was enjoying the ‘foreplay' between he and Brian. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the man all day, despite of what he had going on. When he'd walked into Babylon tonight, he had thought...hoped, that maybe he would run into the handsome brunet. He knew the minute Brian walked in, even as he danced and flirted with dozens of men before deciding on the one blowing him. He watched as Brian began to pump languidly in and out of his trick's mouth, wishing that he was in front of the man.

 

If he tasted as good as he smelled that morning, Justin decided that it would be worth it. Justin very rarely went down on a trick; he reserved that for those he deemed special... Well, at least for the moment they were together anyway. Visualizing his mouth around Brian, sucking him and tongue-fucking him, Justin increased his rhythm. The trick gagged around him again, which caused a slight smile to surface on the blond's lips.

 

Well he's gotta learn to give proper head, now doesn't he?

 

He knew he wasn't small, but he had more girth than he did length. He wondered if Brian would be able to take all of him. He pulled his trick's hair harshly again even as he fucked steadily into the welcoming, warm and wet mouth. Faster, harder and deeper he moved, watching as the man across from him did the same. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Justin let loose, enjoying the sensation of the trick's tonsils contracting rhythmically in an effort to drink all of his essence while giving the sensitive head of his dick a good massage. When he was done, he pulled the boy up to his feet, placed a light kiss on his lips and sent the trick on his way.

 

"That was quite an interesting performance," Brian said, making his way over to Justin. He had finished his own orgasm as Justin had, eyes planted firmly on the blond's face. Brian couldn't wait to see that face under him and because of him.

 

"Likewise, Brian," Justin answered as he finished straightening out his clothes. He moved toward the entrance of the backroom. He looked back at Brian questioningly. "You coming?"

 

Brian smirked. "Not yet," he answered. But definitely soon he thought to himself as he followed Justin to the bar.

 

Their emergence from the backroom was not lost on many of the occupants within Babylon's walls, primarily Brian's friends. Emmett was the first down the stairs followed, closely by Blake, Ted and of course, Michael. Each of the men fought their way through the crowd of dancing bodies in their quest to find out what happened... Or to stop what had the potential to happen, depending on how one looked at the situation. Emmett smiled brightly upon reaching the duo at the bar, taking time to order him another Cosmo before asking, "So... you two have met?"

 

"Obvious much, Honeycutt?" Brian stated without heat. He was much too relaxed at the moment and happy that he and Justin had met again... although he would never admit it to any of them.

 

Emmett first threw a warning look at Brian at the use of his last name, but then recaptured his sunny disposition. Michael was doing enough scowling for everyone milling about. So smiling his full-shine on, signature gap-tooth smile, he said, "Well you can't blame a queen for being curious, Brian."

 

"Nah. I suppose I can't Emmy Lou but really..." Brian chuckled. "Anyway, this is Justin. Justin, this is Emmett, Ted, Blake and Michael."

 

Justin responded with a simple "Hey," to the group as a whole. He noticed the dynamics, chuckling at the three hearty responses he received back and a barely uttered ‘hello,' from the shorter brunet. He shrugged even as he asked for another Beam and turned his attention back to the dancefloor. Justin watched as the one called Michael pushed and squeezed his way in between himself and the brunet Adonis he was hoping to fuck very soon. As he reached for his glass, Justin smiled briefly as he felt the smooth heated touch on his hand from Brian, who was standing just out of his reach. The action sent a brief jolt of electricity from the point of contact, zinging through his skin straight to his dick. Justin smiled wide, but kept his attention on the action in front of him.

 

Brian looked over to Ted and Blake, who were swaying ever so gently to the music. He shook his head in wonder at the two of them. Ted Schmidt happy at last, who would have guessed? He noticed how calm the man seemed and even Blake was when he was with Ted; a huge change in the man who used to be known as Babylon's wild Crystal child. He was glad that they both had cleaned up their act from their individual meth addictions. A sober Ted and Blake was much better than their self-loathing counterparts.

 

The most dour expression in the bunch was seen on the face of his best friend. Brian almost felt bad for Mikey being unhappy with his life at the moment. Michael and Ben were still fighting over the littlest hustler's presence in their former happy heteronormative home. He could respect what Ben was doing, having run away from home himself a few times. There were times Brian wished someone had rescued him from the house of horrors he'd grown up in.

 

But wishes were for people who were underachievers, not Brian Kinney. What Ben was doing was classic Zen-Ben, both loving and noble. Brian couldn't understand why Mikey couldn't see that especially since he, Debbie and Vic had practically done the same with Brian within just a week of knowing him when they were fourteen. Brian was shaken out of his reverie again by Michael.

 

"Brian, I'm ready to go now," Michael complained.

 

"Okay. Have a great night then, Mikey," Brian answered. He knew exactly what Michael had expected.

 

"I was hoping you could give me a ride," Michael said, folding his arms and pouting. Usually such an action would garner Michael what he wanted and he knew that. "Even though we‘ve been together all night, we haven't had a real chance to talk about everything. Fuck, Brian, you know I can't talk to Ben right now! And I can't talk to Ma or Uncle Vic either since they agree with Ben; you're all I have." Michael's eyes began to fill up with tears as he said the last.

 

"Mikey..." Brian said, hesitatingly. Somehow Brian felt trapped in a web of his own making, but he suddenly wasn't so sure that he was actually the sneaky spider this time.

 

How many times? How many times had it always come down between wants and needs between he and Michael? Brian wants X; Michael needs Y. Sometimes he just wanted to say fuck it all and disappear and leave everyone to handle their own lives, especially Mikey. But the first time he did that, all of the ‘family' including Deb, Vic and Mikey were ready to draw and quarter him.

 

It was during Michael's 30th birthday party. Deb had asked- no, begged- Brian to let Michael be happy; to let him build a life with David Cameron, who was probably the most pompous ass Brian had ever met. The funny thing was that when Brian took steps to achieve that end, when Brian made sure that the friendship between he and Michael would end, no one...NO ONE came to his defense. Not until later when Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, also known as Loudmouths, Inc. the Ted and Emmett division, had figured out the wild and elaborate hoax of severing the long-standing run of the Brian and Mikey show, a life together stuck in perpetual reruns, until Brian pushed Michael out of it. Afterward, no one even thought to apologize; just took the whole incident as Brian aka Beelzebub reaping his due, but that was okay.

 

If it made them all feel better, it was okay and if they couldn't see the truth of the matter, fuck'em all.

 

Justin saw where this was going; watched all the different emotions playing across Brian's handsome face. Michael was hellbent on having Brian to himself. He chuckled inwardly even as he said, "Perhaps some other time, Brian."

 

The sudden smile and instantly dry tear ducts on Michael's face didn't go unnoticed by the blond. But Justin didn't say anything, even as the look became undeniably more smug. Instead Justin let himself be guided into a state of peace about the whole thing. He knew that despite what the insipid little man was trying to do, he and Brian would have their one-night stand, fuck each other's brains out, suck each other's dicks off and then in the morning leave the same way they came... as strangers, who were sore in all the right places but still had no attachments, no apologies, no commitments, no excuses, no questions and no regrets between them. And that was the way Justin loved it.

 

The music had changed again to a mix of house and cha-cha and Justin couldn't help the sway of hips even as the melody kicked in. "Viva Columbia" was one of his absolute favorites. He moved over to Emmett, who was also letting the music move him. "Wanna dance?"

 

Emmett smiled. "Well I was hoping you would ask, Hot Stuff. Let's go shake our tailfeathers!"

 

Justin lead the way to the dance floor, feeling the heat of hazel eyes on his back. He was happy to discover that Emmett was a very good dancer. He himself loved to dance whenever he got the chance. There had been so few opportunities for him lately. Although he was still a bit buzzed, he was now sober enough to really enjoy himself.

 

Meanwhile back at the bar....

 

"Well Brian, it's time to go NOW," Michael punctuated every word as he continued to fold his arms while glaring at the blond dancing with Emmett, and pat his foot impatiently.

 

Brian rolled his eyes heavenward before responding. "Michael, go home to your husband. As for me, I'm not ready to leave yet."

 

"What? You're gonna ditch me over some trick?!"

 

Brian thought about all his small interactions with Justin since they met at the coffeeshop earlier in the day. "Justin is NOT a trick, Mikey. And even if he was, what I do in my life never was and never will be your business. It really is time for YOU to go home, Michael and talk to Ben."

 

"But Brian..." Michael whined.

 

"No, Michael! Just no. All night I have listened to you whine and complain about what's wrong in your marriage. This is NOT my problem...it's yours! And you have to decide whether you want to fix it or not. I suggest you think about that on your way home. I have other plans."

 

Brian turned his head to look at Justin and Emmett dancing against each other. Although there was nothing really salacious in their movements, Brian still was a bit uneasy about Emmett touching Justin. That was new. Leaving Michael and his problems behind at the bar, he went out to the middle of the crowd to join them. At Brian's approach and glare, the trick who was about to wrap Justin in an embrace from behind backed off.

 

Brian took the opportunity to grasp the gyrating hips of the blond and pull him into his body. His eyes met Emmett's over Justin's head. Emmett smiled and shifted a little to the left to dance with the man Brian had warned off a few moments before. Brian then turned Justin in his arms so that they were facing each other. He leaned in but was stopped just a moment before the contact.

 

"I thought you were going," Justin said loudly to be heard over the music.

 

Brian shook his head in the negative and shrugged. "I'm exactly where I want to be. Mikey's a big boy; he can take care of himself."

 

"So what do you want to do?" Justin asked as he pressed up against Brian. The song's haunting female voice began to half-beg, half demand to be kissed in spanish and Justin felt the plea resonating deep inside of him. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to drink from the lips of the tall brunet.

 

Instead of answering, Brian bowed his head and captured the plump lips before him. Just as he'd imagined hundreds of times since meeting the blond, the lips were the softest set he'd ever kissed. Brian pressed against them more firmly, coaxing them to open for him. At first, it seemed like Justin wouldn't but when he did, Brian swooped in wrapping his tongue around the inside of Justin's mouth. The mixture of Beam and cigarettes was heady to Brian as he continued his oral exploration, the heat it was generating settling down into his groin.

 

Justin moaned just before he ended the kiss. He couldn't remember a time he was on the verge of losing himself so completely during an exchange. Justin was used to and comfortable with control, but it was strange with Brian. No, he wasn't looking to become a submissive, but the tall brunet just made him feel different somehow. It made him want to do something he'd never done.

 

Looking deep into Brian's eyes, he asked, "Wanna get out of here?"

 

Brian smiled at the blond and answered. "Your place or mine?"

 

"Yours. I'll follow you," Justin answered.     

 

"I'll meet you outside," Brian said and parted ways with Justin for the interim. He watched from a distance as the younger man collected his leather jacket and helmet from the coat check even as he sought out Ted. He was secretly relieved not to see Michael anywhere in sight. He was just too close to blowing up at his friend again, especially if he heard Ben and Hunter's names in the same sentence for the millionth time in twenty-four hours.

 

"Interesting catch you have there, Bri," Ted said while still holding on to Blake.

 

"I know but then you wouldn't expect anything less of me, now would you, Theodore?"

 

Both Ted and Blake chuckled as Emmett made his way over to Brian. "Leaving so soon, Loverman?"

 

Brian snickered. "What the fuck was in those frilly-frou-frou drinks, Honeycutt?"

 

"Hey you know the rules, Brian. Don't call me Honeycutt but seriously, I hope you know what you're doing with that hot young thang."

 

"I always know what I'm doing, with ‘hot young thangs' or otherwise."

 

"Yes but this one..."

 

"Save it. I don't want to know. In and out with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit, that's the deal. And based on what you told me earlier, Em, I have a feeling that Justin is the same way."

 

Both Ted and Emmett nodded. "He is but..." Ted tried again.

 

"Then there shouldn't be a problem," Brian said matter-of-factly. "Now you dames have fun. Theodore, I'll see you bright and early. There is another matter I need to discuss with you in the morning. Don't be late."

 

"You're not coming to the diner in the morning for breakfast?"

 

"I don't know, we'll see. Besides I'm not sure I can deal with another episode of ‘The Novotny-Bruckners and the Restless' so soon after tonight. See ya ladies," Brian said as he moved toward the exit.

 

Emmett and Ted continued to watch as Brian collected his jacket from coat check and made his way out of the exit doors through the throng of men milling about the entrance. Emmett turned to Ted, "Do you think we should have told him who Justin is?"

 

"Wait- what do you mean?" Blake asked.

 

Ted sighed. "Remember that really huge account I told you about? The one that was worth a quarter of a million dollars and that Brian has garnered a meeting for next week."

 

Blake nodded. "I vaguely remember that we talked about it. I know that the young man is the CEO of two major corporations. Why?"

 

"Blake, you've just met Justin Taylor, the CEO of both Taylor Industries and Winston Incorporated," Emmett said, allowing Ted to gather his wits about him.

 

"The guy who left with Brian? He's... oh my God!"

 

Ted nodded. "Exactly. The boss is screwing the account and doesn't even know it."

 

"Fuck! That meeting is probably going to be awkward as hell when they meet again," Emmett said.

 

"You might not know the half of it, Em. According to Justin's accountant, Maggie... you remember her don't you? Well according to her, based on how well Kinnetik does with Taylor Industries, he might utilize us for Winston Inc, too. That would be another ninety million dollar account."

 

"You can add HoneyGrass Elegant Creations to that list, Teddy," Emmett said, quietly.

 

"What? Emmett, what did you and Vic do?"

 

"We've been looking for more space for some time and although we plan on still keeping the store on Tremont, we've also been looking for larger industrial space."

 

"And let me guess, you've found the perfect spot."

 

"Indeed we have right inside of the Winston Building, which also includes full and exclusive use of the banquet hall as a venue. In addition to that, we just signed a deal with the company for the exclusive use of their linens whenever we have a catering event to do which as you know, is more often than not. Although they take a percentage of the profits, we still keep the lion's share to pay for staffing and other expenses. In return, we are their exclusive catering company, which is why HoneyGrass does not pay rent in the Winston building. Since they average about 18 corporate parties and business meetings per quarter, we will more than pay our rent in service. Plus we get more free publicity and the referral of a well-established Fortune 100 company."

 

"Damn. Justin Taylor could fuck all of us if he wanted to... and without lube," Ted said, shaking his head.

 

"He won't do that, Teddy. Vic knew his grandfather, Matthew Winston, which is why we are getting such a good deal among everything else. From what Vic told me, Matthew was a major investor in the first restaurant he opened before he found out he was sick. When Matthew found out, he bought the restaurant and resold it, then placed the money in a trust account for Vic to help him and Debbie out with the expenses for his meds. Matthew also fixed it so that Vic was an investor for the new restaurant venture, keeping him with a steady income until the restaurant closed some years later due to the new owner's death.

 

"When Matthew tried to offer Vic the money to keep on top of his medication costs, Vic told him that he'd already done enough for he and Deb. Then after Vic got really sick and decided to take the trip to Italy, Matthew found out and paid for it. I think he may have had a thing for Deb during high school when they all met but well... you know how arranged marriages go. Unfortunately, while Vic and Deb were on vacation, Matthew passed away although they weren't sure from what. He left some money in Deb's name to pay for the hospital bills, medication costs and the house because he knew that Vic wouldn't have accepted it."

 

"But instead of taking care of themselves and their business, they used it to help Michael out of whatever mess he'd created for himself, and going in the hole financially." Ted frowned remembering the first year he did their taxes and finding out that they had loaned Michael a vast sum of the money left to them-- money that still to this day had not been accounted for. He would almost stake his life that it was for some comic book paraphernalia, but he couldn't prove it so he never mentioned it. Shaking himself from that thought he said, "I really hope Brian knows what he's doing, Em. None of us can afford an unfavorable fallout from this dangerous liaison."

 

Emmett bit his bottom lip as he digested Ted's words. It really could end badly for all of them if things were to go wrong between Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor. But then he remembered what else Vic had told him about the young blond and breathed a little easier. "I don't think so, Teddy. Matthew Winston raised his grandson to keep business separate from pleasure."

 

"I can't believe neither of you said anything to Brian," Blake said shaking his head.

 

"I hadn't met Justin face-to-face so I didn't exactly know what he looked like," Emmett explained.

 

"And I only know of all of this because of the company portfolio and the picture Maggie sent over to me earlier. This is one helluva clusterfuck by anyone's standards," Ted said.

 

Em nodded. "Granted it does look bad, but then again what if it turns out to be something really good? I don't think Brian would intentionally fuck all of us in the process of getting laid."

 

Ted sighed. "I'm not so sure he's the one I'm most concerned about, although I worry about how Brian is going to take this news, too." He shook his head watching as Brian followed in the same direction Justin went. As he headed out of Babylon, in the other corner under the illusion of darkness, a certain brunet by the name of Michael Novotny-Bruckner glared after his quarry. He pointed Emmett and Blake in Michael's direction, and said, "Yep there is definitely bound to be trouble."   

 

Blake rolled his eyes. He was confused as to why Michael refused to let Brian live his own life, especially when he had a partner like Ben who would do almost anything for him. Blake knew deep down Ted was right in naming the ‘trouble' coming, but that was Brian's problem to fix. Deciding that it was time to inject what Ted would call his ‘Twinkie Wisdom,' Blake said, "Hey you two, stop worrying! We shall see what we shall see in the end. If Brian and Justin's interaction tonight is any indication of what will go on in the future- or at the very least, later this evening- then you both have nothing to worry about."

 

 

"And if it isn't?" Emmett asked.

 

"Cross the bridge when you get to it and stop borrowing trouble, Emmett. And that goes for you too, Teddy. No matter what, you can't fix what has no evidence of being broken. Now let's dance."

 

Blake took both Ted and Emmett by their shoulders, then led them out to the dancefloor. Holding each of their hands, he maneuvered and manipulated their actions until they finally began to enjoy themselves. For the interim, all thoughts of doom and gloom were forgotten and Blake was satisfied.

 

 

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