Chapter 18 - Christmas in New York.
When the alarm went off at 7:30 am, Justin groaned and rolled over, snuggling into the warmth of Brian’s side, wishing that the alarm would turn itself off. When it continued to beep annoyingly, he reached over Brian and knocked at the clock until he hit the correct button and the thing finally went silent. Brian obviously wasn’t ready to get up either, since all he did once the alarm was quiet was roll over to face Justin and wrap his arms around the toasty, warm blond boy, then sigh contentedly. They hadn’t really gotten much sleep the night before what with all the rodeo events that were going on till the wee hours of the morning. It was so tempting to just let himself melt back to sleep in that cosy, secure space where he felt so safe and cherished. Brian’s enticing morning hard on poking into his belly definitely wasn’t going to help convince him to get out of bed, either.
However, Justin had to be to work at the gallery by 9:30 that Saturday. They were expecting a busy weekend of sales and lots of deliveries. Justin wished he could take the day off and join Brian and Gus for more fun adventures, but he knew there was no way he could leave his boss so short handed with no notice. Unfortunately, Justin would have to let Brian and his son fend for themselves for the day. And, he would have to get out of bed right now if he wanted to shower and get to work on time.
Justin crept out from under the blankets, trying not to let any drafts into the warm pocket of air where Brian was still snoozing, and tiptoed out of the room straight to the shower. Standing there with the hot water cascading over his skin, he smiled as he soaped off the crusty dried cum and sweat that covered his chest and stomach. Then, as soon as he remembered exactly how crazy and wanton he had been, and that it was him who had initiated things with Brian the night before, he cringed. He couldn’t understand WHAT had gotten into him. That was not how Justin Taylor normally reacted. The fact that he’d been living in the same small apartment with a virtual sex god for the past month and not getting nearly enough sexual release, was really not a good enough excuse. He should be ashamed of himself. . . But, he really wasn’t. He couldn’t be. It had been too deliciously perfect. The very memory of all the things they had done over the past ten hours was more than enough to get him hard again. He let his right hand take over the remainder of the showering activities, using all that nice slippery lather to work out all the annoying stiffness in his cock, while he continued his wet and wild cowboy fantasies.
The extra-long shower made Justin even more pressed for time, which meant that when he ran into his own room to grab some clean clothes, he didn’t even notice that the bed, where Brian’s son had been sleeping last night, was empty. He was hopping on one foot, trying to get the other leg into a pair of slacks and pull his shirt over his head at the same time as he half-fell into the kitchen, intent on grabbing some form of sustenance that might resemble breakfast. Luckily, Justin’s head popped out of the collar of his shirt just in time so that he could avoid tripping over the kid and cat seated together in the center of the kitchen floor.
Winston immediately looked up at his person guiltily. Gus simply smiled a huge happy grin as he picked up two pieces of the cat’s dry, crunchy cat food out of Winston’s bowl - one in each pudgy little hand - and offered the piece in his left hand to Winston while he put the piece in his right hand into his own mouth and munched. Winston flicked his tail as if he knew that he probably shouldn’t be encouraging this, but opened his furry mouth and accepted the offering nonetheless.
“Hi, Jus’n!” Gus shouted around a mouth full of crunchy cat kibble. “Winston and I were hungry so we’re having cereal t’gether. Want some?”
“Uh . . . um . . .No thank you, Gus,” Justin was momentarily stunned by the scene and didn’t quite know how to respond, especially since it was really early in the morning and he hadn’t had any caffeine yet.
“I’m not s’posed to pour the milk without Mommy helping - so we’re just eating the cereal plain, but that’s okay. Winston said it would be better with milk though.” Gus announced informatively.
Justin’s brain started to kick in and he was about to yell and yank the bowl away from the kid and the cat in sheer disgust but then he stopped himself. He remembered that he’d splurged on the ‘All Natural’ with “Real Meat Flavoring’ brand of cat food the last time he’d been out shopping. He looked down at the boy who seemed to be perfectly happy eating the cat food and sighed. Justin figured it probably wouldn’t kill the kid. . . and, he’d already apparently eaten quite a bit. . . there wasn’t much that could be done about it now. . . yelling at the kid and scaring him wasn’t really the best response here was it. . . Oh fuck it, he had to get to work and it was really Brian’s problem, not his.
“Brian,” Justin yelled over his shoulder as he backed away from the impending conflict. “Gus is eating cat food. I’ve got to go to work. Have a great day! Bye!”
“What?” Justin heard Brian roaring from the depths of the bedroom as he strategically retreated from the scene, grabbing his jacket and pulling the door closed behind him as a naked, angry and still half-asleep Brian came barrelling down the hall with a very perturbed look on his face.
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“You have five new voicemail messages,” the impartial electronic voice informed him when Justin turned his phone on during his mid-morning break a few hours later. Justin made an anxious face before he hit the button that would play back the messages.
First Message: “What the hell, Justin? You let my kid eat cat food? Where the hell did you run off to? Call me you twat!” Brian’s voice sounded pretty irate.
Second Message: “Lindsey said it’s okay and I don’t have to take Gus to the hospital to get his stomach pumped, so I guess I don’t have to kill you, Justin. But, I’m still not happy. Call me.” Brian sounded almost as pissed but much less panicky, so Justin figured that was good.
Third Message: “Gus reminded me you probably had to go to work. Any chance you could get off early, Sunshine? What the hell do I do with a three year old all day in New York City? Call me as soon as you get this.” Brian was getting less pissed off sounding but there was still that edge of panic in there that had Justin concerned.
Fourth Message: “Look, I know you’re at work but I could really use some advice here, Sunshine. I don’t really do Christmas. I have no idea what to do with Gus today. I know you’d have a metric fuck ton of ideas that would keep Gus entertained. Please, call me.” Brian now had a definite pleading tone in his voice that made Justin smile at the same time as he felt just a tad guilty for not helping more.
Fifth Message: “I give up, Sunshine! Gus is driving me crazy. Your cat is driving me crazy. I had to forcibly restrain Gus from following the stupid animal into the litter box. If you don’t call me back, then I’m going to give in and let Gus give your Fuzzball a bath. Just fucking call me, okay? Please!” Brian sounded mostly desperate by the last message and Justin was almost doubled over with laughter.
Justin finally relented and pushed the right buttons to call his home number. Brian answered almost instantly and sounded even more flustered than before. Justin had to hold back the giggle that threatened to break out.
“Hey, Brian. Got your messages. . .”
“Then why the hell haven’t you called back already?” Brian didn’t sound pleased.
“Sorry, I only just now got a break. So, everything going okay at home? Gus and Winston seem like they’re bonding. . .” Justin tried to respond casually, trying to look on the bright side of what he’d grasped from the series of messages.
“Oh, fuck, yes. They’ve fucking bonded all right. Gus even wanted to use the Fuzzball’s litter box this morning instead of the damn toilet. It’s all your fault, Sunshine. When the hell are you going to be home to take over running interference?” Brian complained, in the whiniest voice Justin had ever heard the cocksure older man use to date. “I wasn’t joking about Gus giving the little monster a bath. If you don’t get here soon I won’t be able to stop him and I don’t really think you or the Fuzzball would like that,” Brian threatened.
“Brian, I can’t leave work right now. We’re swamped - it is the weekend before Christmas, you know.”
“But . . . Justin. . . I don’t know what to do,” Brian begged, sounding so forlorn that Justin’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I didn’t really do much Christmas shit as a kid. I . . . I want Gus to do all that stuff, but I . . . well, I don’t know where to fucking start.”
Justin’s compassionate soul went out to the pitiable man and he now understood a bit about why Brian had seemed so out of his element the night before while they were taking Gus to visit Santa. “Okay, Brian. I get the picture. Now, this is what you’re going to do . . . “
Justin quickly ran through a recommended itinerary for every kid in NYC the weekend before Christmas. Brian made him repeat a couple things, as if he was taking notes or something. The mollified father didn’t seem overly excited about a couple of the items on the list, but he stoically hmm’d and errr’d and didn’t throw up much of a fuss about any of them.
“That should keep you and Gus busy for the rest of the day. I’ll meet you as soon as I get off work, okay. You should be ready for dinner by then. I recommend Bill’s Bar and Burgers at Rockefeller Center. If we meet up there before 5:30 we should even be able to get a table. Do you think that will work,” Justin asked, worried about leaving the distressed father on his own for a full day of kid related activities.
“I guess so. . . “ Brian didn’t sound very sure of himself, but finally gave up fighting the inevitable with an audible sigh. “Thanks, Sunshine. You probably just saved my ass. Later!”
“Later!” Justin managed to reply before Brian hung up on him.
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Justin pushed his way through the mob of people crowding the sidewalks and everywhere else around Rockefeller Center, trying to get through to the bar where he’d told Brian he’d meet him. It might have been a mistake telling Brian to brave this part of town on a Saturday night the weekend before Christmas. Justin had always battled a touch of agoraphobia and these hordes of people weren’t making him feel less uncomfortable. He hoped that Brian and Gus were already comfortably ensconced in the restaurant and not battling the masses like he was. But, only fifteen minutes later than he’d promised, Justin managed to make his way to the homey little bar and grill just around the corner from the plaza.
“Jus’n! Jus’n,” Gus screamed at him from the far side of the little pub, standing up on his booster seat to wave at his friend and almost toppling onto the table in his excitement, as soon as the blond fought his way inside.
Justin grinned and wove through the busy little grill till he came to the right table, whereupon Gus launched himself into the surprised youth’s arms without warning. “Jus’n, we went to the Zoo! It was sooooo cool! There was this huge polar bear and seals that did tricks and the penguins - but they smelled really bad - and there was baby tiger cubs - they were only ten weeks old the sign said - and Daddy got me some cotton candy, but it isn’t really made out of cotton, you know, and there were these birds. . ." and Gus proceeded to explain in detail every single exhibit he’d seen at the zoo along with everything he’d eaten while there in one breath before Justin even managed to sit down.
Brian leaned across the table and gave Justin a small kiss in greeting and quickly whispered, “I’ll get you back for making me go to the zoo by myself, Sunshine.”
By the time the waiter arrived to take Justin’s food order - Brian had already ordered him a beer, which was greatly appreciated - Gus had moved on to describe the rest of the afternoon in Central Park. “We saw this big lake with birds on it and Daddy let me feed them bread that we got from this old man sitting on a big green bench. Then we had to look at lots of stupid flowers. Then, Daddy let me ride on the Carousel THREE TIMES. I sat on the big black horse the first time, then on the ostric’, and then on the tiger. It didn’t go very fast but it had happy music. Daddy rode with me all three times only he would only sit on the white horse every time. And then we walked and walked and walked and then we got here and there were so many people but Daddy is tall so he put me on his shoulders and I could see over the top of everybody and I helped find the restaurant. And then you came. . ."
“Wow. That sounds like a pretty amazing afternoon, Gus,” Justin exclaimed, winking at Brian as he said the words. “How did you manage to do all that in just one day?”
“How indeed,” Brian replied dryly, winking back at the blond. “At least I won’t need to visit the gym for the next couple days, considering how much exercise I’ve had trying to keep up with my two ‘boys’ the past couple of days.”
Justin tried to hide his ensuing blush behind the large pub menu. Brian lightly kicked him under the table enough to get him to look up and see the older man smiling mischievously at him. Gus was obliviously slurping at a soda. Justin was still so unsure about whatever this thing was between him and Brian and he was suffering repeated stabs of embarrassment over his behavior last night. Brian seemed to be almost gloating which didn’t make Justin feel any better about himself. ‘Seriously’, Justin thought, ‘I need to get myself under control and stop hopping into Brian’s bed at every random opportunity’.
This internal diatribe might have gone on even longer but, to Justin’s relief, that was when their waiter approached the table with heaping plates of hot food for all. The waiter was a nice looking young man of latino heritage with big dark eyes and plump full lips who was clearly more than interested in Brian. He smiled obsequiously and simpered every time Brian thanked him for every little thing. Finally, when the waiter couldn’t come up with anything more he could do to prolong his time at the table, he asked sulkily, “Just let me know if there’s ANYTHING else I can do for you. . . “
Brian eyed the waiter’s name tag and then pointed over his shoulder to the chalkboard listing the day’s specials. “Well, there is one thing, Nathan. You have some highly interesting specials listed up there. But, I have to ask, Nathan, how DO you make a ‘Slippery Cockshake’?” Justin looked up at the board and, sure enough, written in bright neon green chalk, there was a new drink listed called the ‘Slippery Cock Shake’.
Justin giggled like a schoolgirl at the barely concealed innuendo. The waiter wasn’t fazed a bit, though. He chuckled seductively and smiled down at the handsome brunet. “Oh, there’s lots of ways, Honey. But here, all we have to do is add a little banana liquor and then talk dirty to it for about half a minute,” the cheeky waiter ran his index finger down Brian’s arm with a lascivious leer as he explained.
Even Brian giggled a bit at that. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind for the next time I cum here, Nathan,” Brian replied, returning leer for leer and upping the ante with a solicitous wag of his sexy eyebrows.
“Anything to be of service, Sir,” Nathan responded with a wink then turned around and strutted off with his hips swinging in an over-exaggerated fashion that Justin found simply too gay even for him.
“Daddy,” Gus cut in, dragging his father’s attention off the wiggling ass and back to the table. “What’s ‘talk dirty’? Is it like when you say those words that make Momma angry? And, why did that man say he was going to do it to a milkshake? I don’t want anything dirty in my shake or my soda. . .?”
Both Gus and Justin looked up at Brian expectantly waiting to hear his response. Brian was only stumped for about half a minute. Then, Brian shook his head, took a deep breath and set off to try to explain things to his inquisitive three year old son.
“Yes, Gus, dirty talk is like when I say bad words that make your Momma angry with me. The waiter was only joking about talking dirty to the milkshake, though, he wouldn’t really put anything dirty in your drink,” Brian hoped that was enough to satisfy the kid’s curiosity.
“Is ‘Yee Haw’ dirty talk?” Gus asked, completely innocently, his inquisitive mood far from satiated by such a simple answer. “I heard you and Jus’n playing cowboys last night and you both kept saying ‘Yee Haw’. Then there was a lot of banging against the wall so I couldn’t get to sleep for a long time. Were you playing ‘Cowboys & Indians’ or just ‘Cowboys’? I don’t think it’s as fun if you don’t have ‘Indians’. If you want to play again tonight, I could be the ‘Indian’. Timmy and I play that sometimes.”
Brian didn’t know quite where to start in on this batch of questions. Justin wouldn’t be any help - he was sitting across the table, his face redder than a beet, with his hand clasped over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter. The ‘Yee Haw’s had mostly been Justin’s fault, and Brian was just a tad annoyed that he was getting put on the spot for it while the blond just sat there chortling. But, he had to at least try to act like a responsible parent - even if it was more than a little bit outside his realm of experience - so Brian cleared his throat and started in explaining about how they didn’t really need Gus to help them play ‘Cowboys’ cause it was a big boys game. That led to questions about what constituted ‘Big Boy Games’ and how old Gus had to be to play. . . It was a very uncomfortable meal for Brian Kinney.
The game of twenty questions lasted for the entire meal. Brian was more than glad when there was no more food left so he could hustle the giggling blond and the nosy tot out of the restaurant. It didn’t seem like there was any other way he could have stopped the very delicate conversation.
Some of the crowds seemed to have dispersed while they were eating, which was good since Justin was able to relax as he led them around the corner to the big ice skating rink set up in Rockefeller Plaza. He hadn’t told Brian about this part of his plan yet and he wasn’t sure how it would go over. But, this WAS the quintessential Christmas outing that every New Yorker was apparently required to participate in at least once in a lifetime. Justin hadn’t actually skated here before, but he was eager to initiate the little boy who seemed fascinated by the big tree, the bright lights, the swarms of colorfully dressed people and the skaters swirling around on the ice below them. He was also curious to see how Brian Kinney did on ice skates.
“What the fu . . . ?” Brian exclaimed as soon as he determined exactly where Justin was trying to lead their little party. “Sunshine, if you think there’s any way in Hell you’re getting me in ice skates, you are delusional.”
“Come on, Brian. It’s all part and parcel of the Christmas in New York thing,” Justin wasn’t above begging for this one. “It’s for Gus . . .”
Gus was standing on his tip toes with his hands gripping the top of the railing overlooking the rink. He seemed mesmerized by the view. His little hazel eyes - the same shape as those of his father but with just a touch more brown - were literally twinkling from the myriad of Christmas lights everywhere. The people down on the ice all looked happy and jolly. You could hear peals of laughter everywhere. Even the few who were falling on their asses or holding onto the sides of the rink seemed to somehow be enjoying themselves. Gus was obviously enthralled by the spectacle.
Justin watched as Brian looked down at his son. Justin saw the devoted father’s heart melt almost instantly. This was NOT what Brian Kinney wanted to do - far from it - but it was clear that Brian would do anything for his son. Even if it meant he was going to have to look like a fool, falling on his ass repeatedly while wearing rental ice skates. The big man turned to Justin with a defeated look in his eyes, and sighed heavily as his shoulders visibly slumped.
“Damn you, Sunshine,” was all Brian said as he reached for Gus’ small hand and started walking towards the rink entrance.
By the third time Brian landed on his ass, he was beginning to rethink how wise it was to agree to this particular pastime. He didn’t think spinning around on his frozen butt cheeks was the image he wanted to give off. Gus, being much closer to the ground than Brian was, didn’t seem nearly as fazed the few times he had fallen. But, somehow, the little tyke had seemed to master the whole skating thing much more quickly than Brian. After only twenty minutes the little dynamo was zooming around the rink trying to catch Justin, who zipped around backwards, forwards and everyotherwards like a damned Olympic Figure Skater, while Brian had only made it around the rink about three times. This was definitely not his idea of fun!
The next time Brian toppled over - this time doing a very ungraceful faceplant that jarred his shoulder - a middle-aged, motherly type sped over to his aid and had to help him back into an upright position again. That was pretty much the final straw as far as Brian was concerned. His ass hurt like hell, his shoulder was probably dislocated and now his pride was in tatters too. That was more than enough ‘fun’ for him for one night. Holding on tightly to the railing around the rink, Brian limped his way off towards the exit. Justin saw him tottering off and dropping exhaustedly onto a bench and, with a quick glance to make sure Gus was alright alone for a bit, the agile little blond skated over to make sure Brian was okay.
“I’m fucking done for tonight, Justin,” Brian complained as soon as Justin was close enough. “My ass is going to be black and blue for weeks. That is not a good look on me, by the way.”
“Poor baby!” Justin sympathized as he adroitly teetered with his skates on over the rubber matting between the ice and the bench where Brian was already unlacing the abhorrent footwear. “You really were quite the trooper though. Gus is having a great time.”
“I don’t care how much fun Gus is having,” Brian said, but his griping lacked any real venom. “You two have fun twirling around out there, I’ll keep this bench warm until you’re through.”
Brian would have added a few more choice words that better conveyed his utter scorn for the sport of ice skating, except that there were kids everywhere and he had already spent too much time explaining ‘dirty talk’ for one evening. He squirmed a bit on the bench, trying not to put too much pressure on the cheek he had landed on the second time he fell, which was really throbbing uncomfortably at this point. He wasn’t looking forward to the bruises he’d have come morning. Brian could think of much better ways to get a sore ass than by falling on it repeatedly while hordes of little kids laughed at him. Ice skating was permanently off his list of activities.
“You’re a great dad, Brian,” Justin whispered as he got back up, discretely rubbing Brian’s sore ass cheek and leaving a light kiss on his other cheek as he rebalanced on the blades of the skates. “If you’re good, I’ll kiss it all better for you when we get home.”
Justin ran on tip toes back over the rubber mats and landed perfectly on the ice, doing some ridiculously intricate whirly thing as he waved towards Brian and then glided off effortlessly towards where Gus was tottering along. The little caress and the kiss had gone a long ways towards restoring Brian’s good mood in spite of the debacle of the skating. He waved back and even smiled a little. Then, after disposing of the hated skates, Brian spent the rest of the time taking pictures with his cell phone as Justin taught Gus how to pirouette around like a pro.