Chapter 40 - Of Handcuffs, Hearts and Homework.

“Now, time to figure out how to get these cuffs off,” Justin announced the moment that the teleconference with Bryce Kennedy had ended. “I say to hell with waiting for Winston. I’ve got too much shit to do today to spend it sitting around waiting. So, do you want to call a locksmith or should we just try calling around to a couple of local adult entertainment stores to see if we can buy another set with a key?”

Brian almost panicked. His plans would be ruined if Justin succeeded in getting the handcuffs off and getting away from him before he’d had time to charm him back. Damn it, why did Justin have to be so logical and resourceful. Brian was hoping he wouldn’t think of the alternative of just buying another pair of toy handcuffs with a similar key. Oh well! Brian knew he had to think fast to head off his too-smart blond.

Glancing at the wall clock mounted not far from where they were seated at the dining table, Brian found his distraction. “No time for any of that. Don’t you have a class in about forty minutes? You don’t want to be late. Come on. Grab your stuff and let’s get out of here. If I spring for a cab, we should just about make it in time.”

“I’m not going to class like this,” Justin complained, holding up their conjoined wrists as evidence. “Besides, what the fuck are you going to do all day - are you just gonna trot around at my heel, following me to all my classes. Don’t you have a job or something?”

“My job is pretty much done for the day, Sunshine,” Brian reasoned as he towed the reluctant blond after him. “So, yeah, I’ll just tag along with you for the rest of the day, and during any breaks you have between classes we can work a bit more on the Met campaign. That way we both get everything we need done. Piece of cake!”

“It’s NOT a piece of cake, Brian. It’s going to be hell. We’re still HANDCUFFED together - did you forget that little fact? How the fuck am I going to explain this to everyone at school? My friends? My teachers? How the hell am I supposed to go to WORK like this?”

Brian grabbed both of their jackets off the coat hook by the door and proceeded to artistically drape Justin’s over the handcuff chain, effectively hiding the reason for their enforced closeness.

“That’s not going to work for the whole day, Brian,” Justin griped, but he didn’t resist as Brian picked up both his briefcase and Justin’s messenger bag full of school books and then started walking to the door.

“It’ll be fine, Justin,” Brian smiled over his shoulder as he pulled his unwilling companion over toward the elevator. “You’re a crazy New York City artist with pink hair. Who’s going to even blink an eye when you show up handcuffed to some handsome guy? I’ll just tell them it’s a kink you have and nobody will have the balls to say a word.”

“Briiiiiiiannnnn,” Justin’s whine could be heard even over Brian’s raucous laughter as the elevator doors closed behind them.

<><><><><><><><>

Justin was amazed that Brian turned out to be right. God damned New Yorkers! They were either too fucking jaded to care or just plain insane in their own right. But after more than four hours of moving around the city and the campus of SVA, not ONE single person had even commented on the fact that he and Brian were chained together with furry black handcuffs. It was unreal!

What was annoying Justin even more was that Brian seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself throughout the whole crazy dilemma. He’d happily introduced himself to anyone they met as ‘Justin’s Boyfriend’ and then, grinning widely, had shook the newcomer’s hand, effectively exposing their handcuffed status. And still, nobody had said anything! At most they got some funny looks and maybe a grin or two, but not one comment.

When Brian even went so far as to wave jovially with his cuffed right hand at the professor in Justin’s Drawing Techniques Workshop, Justin thought he’d die of embarrassment. All the professor said though was that visitors weren’t usually allowed in the classroom. Brian responded by shrugging half-apologetically, without any real explanation, and promised not to disrupt class.

“Master . . . I mean, Justin, said he’d give me a special treat if I was a good boy today,” Brian added with a bashful grin, looking over at Justin with adoring doe-eyes and batting his eyelashes endearingly.

“Brian!” Justin wasn’t sure whether to scream at the infuriating man or turn and explain to his professor first.

“Sorry, Mast . . . I mean, Justin. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to speak today. Please don’t punish me,” Brian apologized and obediently lowered his chin, the epitome of submission.

*Hm Hmmmm* Justin’s professor cleared his throat and tried to hide the amused grin that seemed to have broken out on his face. “Yes, well . . . time to get started with class, Taylor,” the man added and moved away without saying more.

“I’m going to kill you when we finally do get these things off - you DO realize that, don’t you, Brian?” Justin hissed and then intentionally jerked his arm hard so as to almost pull Brian off balance.

*He hehehe* Brian was quietly chuckling to himself and didn’t seem to take Justin’s threat seriously.

They did get a bit more done on the ad campaign for The Met in between Justin’s classes. After the final class he had that day, Brian and Justin had more than an hour free before he was expected at work. Brian gallantly offered to treat Justin to a late lunch while they worked a bit more on the Kennedy & Collins boards. As they were seated at a large round table, with various work materials spread out around their lunch trays, a couple of more intrepid souls approached, looking as if they wanted to join Brian and Justin.

“Hey, Taylor,” the bigger, bulkier of the two offered in greeting as they neared. “Mind if we join you two?”

“Sure, Theo,” Justin shrugged, moving a pile of demographic research off the table to clear a spot for the newcomers.

Justin was about to politely introduce his fellow students to Brian when Theo launched right into a whole different conversation than he was expecting. “So, I didn’t know you were into the lifestyle, Taylor? And I never would have pegged you for a dom - but what the hell do I know, right? A bit ballsy, though, showing up with your boy in cuffs at school! I can’t believe that Schneider didn’t say a fucking thing when you towed him into the Workshop with you. Usually that little prick is a total pain in the ass. Good going there, mate!”

“Uh . . . um, it wasn’t exactly . . .” Justin didn’t know quite how to explain things anymore.

“No need to explain, Taylor,” Theo cut him off, apparently well versed in various reasons why one would walk around in handcuffs all day. “You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do when you’re training a new boy, right? This one seems like he’ll be a keeper, though. May I address your boy and introduce him to mine?”

“Uhhhh . . . sure,” Justin stammered, really not sure what the fuck Brian had got them into now. “This is Brian.”

“Nice to meet you, Brian. You can call me ‘Master Lash’. Taylor, you already know Jeff, right? He’s a freshman in the photography program. I call him ‘Cookie’.”

Brian made a show of looking over at Justin as if asking for permission before responding to the introductions. “It’s nice to meet you Master Lash. Cookie. Master . . . I mean Justin, calls me ‘Dimples’,” Brian demurely lowered his gaze after greeting the couple, apparently really getting into his little play acting stint and making Justin shake his head, huffing and rolling his eyes in disbelief at the ridiculous ruse.

“Stop it already, Brian,” Justin hissed.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Brian replied in a hushed voice, still in character and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “I shouldn’t have told them my special name, should I? I’m really sorry. I forgot what you told me earlier. Please don’t punish me too much, Master.”

“Enough, Brian!” Justin’s voice was rising in anger at this point.  

“Whoa! it’s okay, Taylor,” Theo put a placating and sympathetic hand on Justin’s arm, as if trying to hold him back. “Dimples seems new to this, but he’ll learn. Nothing to lose your cool over. Especially here,” Theo waved his hand to indicate the cafeteria full of other students, many of whom were now staring. “Anybody in the lifestyle would sympathize with you about how difficult it is to train a new boy. They don’t all come as perfect as Cookie here,” Theo chuckled and affectionately stroked one hand through Jeff’s hair with an indulgent smile on his otherwise gruff face. Cookie simpered and looked at Theo with utter adoration but didn’t say anything.

“It’s really not like that,” Justin tried to explain, not sure how exactly to do that without possibly offending his new ‘friends’. “See, this . . . today . . . wasn’t planned. We kinda lost the key to the cuffs last night and, well . . .”

*Hah!* “Say no more, my friend!” Theo announced with loud amusement. “It happens to the best of us - I’ve been there a time or two myself, you know. Which is why I started carrying spare keys with me pretty much all the time. Let me see those cuffs,” Theo reached across the table and seized hold of Brian’s wrist, looking intently at the lock mechanism on the cuffs. “Oh, yeah, this is a pretty standard set. I’m sure I’ve got a key that’ll work for you . . .”

“No!” Brian immediately snatched his hand away from Theo just as the big guy seemed to focus on one particular key amidst the dozens on his big solid metal keychain. “That’s alright. We . . . we really don’t need a key . . . I’m good here.”

“Brian?” Justin instantly caught on to the unspoken message underneath his former boyfriend’s words. “Why wouldn’t we want to make use of Theo’s key, if he has one?”

“I . . . Well, I sorta know where the key is?” Brian offered with a nervous tilt of his head, biting at his lip all the while.

“Meaning that it’s no longer inside Winston, I suppose?”

“Uh, well, he kinda threw up in my boots last night, and I suspect the key’s there . . .” Brian explained, not daring to look into Justin’s disapproving stare.

“Theo, Jeff, could you please excuse us. I need to have a word with Brian alone,” Justin courteously asked of their two lunch companions before turning back to his insubordinate sub.

“Good luck, Dimples,” Master Lash offered as he rose and started to lead his own boy away. “It looks to me like you’re gonna need it. Later, Taylor.”

As soon as they were alone again, Justin calmly started packing away all the Met campaign materials without saying anything or even looking in Brian’s direction. Brian didn’t know what to say either. He reluctantly began to put his own work away as well, internally worrying through a series of arguments he could use to placate Justin when the blond finally did get around to venting his anger at him. Justin was giving off enough subliminal signals of his displeasure that Brian knew without a doubt that the outburst, when it did come, would be monumental.

With his bag packed up, Justin stood and headed off towards the cafeteria doors, not even really taking note of Brian trotting along behind him. Twenty minutes later, they were getting out of a cab in front of the apartment building, and Justin still had not said a single word to Brian. The longer the blond kept up the silent treatment, the more worried the older brunet got. Brian was at the point that he was actually looking forward to Justin yelling at him, if only he would say SOMETHING!

Back inside the apartment, Justin sat his bag down right next to the door and turned to Brian. “Get the key,” he ordered, and then followed along wordlessly while Brian shuffled along to his closet and retrieved the soiled boot with its gooey, half-digested contents.

Justin held out his hand and Brian compliantly relinquished the boot. Without any discussion, Justin marched them off to the bathroom, dumped the furball into the tub, turned on the faucet and waited until the majority of the cat sick was washed off the remains of the fuzzy keychain which was indeed at the core of the hairball. Justin then picked up the key, unhestitatingly fitted it into the lock and released the cuffs from his wrist. As soon as he was free he disappeared from the bathroom without saying anything.

Brian unlocked his own wrist and ran after Justin. It just couldn’t end like this! He wouldn’t let Justin simply walk away again. He couldn’t do it. Brian needed Justin and he knew he would have to somehow prove it to the man right now before he was gone out of Brian’s life for good.

Brian didn’t have to worry, though. Justin was seated on the couch and waiting for him. The blond was entrenched in the far end of the sofa, his arms crossed indignantly across his chest and a small barricade of pillows set up on his lap in order to provide further protection. Justin’s countenance was as closed off and forbidding as his body language. But at least he was still there. Brian was relieved that he still had a chance, no matter how miniscule.

Brian took a deep breath and lowered himself onto the couch as well. The two men sat there in silence for quite some time, neither sure exactly where to start. When the silence started to almost physically weigh on Brian’s shoulders, he opened his mouth, about to launch into some unplanned but hopefully impassioned speech.

“Stop!” Justin ordered before Brian could say one word. “Brian, I don’t want to hear any excuses about the handcuff key right now. I don’t really care why you thought it was a good idea to keep me cuffed to you all day. That’s really beside the point! And I don’t want another one of your patented Kinney sales pitches, either. I don’t want you to try and convince me why I should buy into your plan for the two of us.”

“You’ve spent most of the past week plying me with gifts and half-assed poetry - I liked the limericks, though, by the way - and you even got your friends and your son involved to try and convince me to come back. But don’t you understand, all that’s not going to get you anywhere? I don’t want or need baskets of sex toys and strippers. Or, for that matter, romantic drivel either. None of that shit is really you anyway, Brian. It never was. It’s not me either.”

“What I really need is for you to be completely and totally honest. With me and with yourself. The whole reason we’re in this fucking mess is because, when we got home from Pittsburgh and Connor showed up, we both just assumed a metric fuck ton of shit about how the other was feeling instead of actually communicating. It was fucked up and I know I’m as much to blame for letting it get that way as you, but now I’m putting my foot down and saying that it has got to stop.”

“What I want from you now - the only thing I want - is for you to tell me how you feel and why you think you and I should be together,” Justin finished, his voice dropping lower as he gave Brian this ultimatum.

“Shit, Sunshine,” Brian cringed, his face crumpling up with seeming defeat before he’d ever started. “Couldn’t we start off with something easy and work our way up to talking about feelings and all that crap? You hit hard. No holds barred, I guess? Well, fine . . .”

Brian got up and started pacing - unable to think things through without feeling like his body was free to move and perhaps escape if needed. “I feel . . . I-I feel empty and lost. When you left I felt almost panicked. I knew I’d fucked up royally and I knew I deserved to get reamed by you, but I didn’t think you’d leave. And when you didn’t yell at me or even say anything and then you just said ‘goodbye’ and the door closed behind you, I felt so fucking scared. I guess that’s how I still feel - scared. I’m scared that you’ll give up on me. That you don’t want to give me another chance. I’m so fucking terrified that you won’t be able to love me anymore and that I’ve ruined everything . . .”

Brian couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. It’s not that he’d never had these thoughts before, but he had never dared to give them voice. Fear, sadness, loss, rejection - these were sentiments that had always been forbidden. They were shameful and pathetic feelings that he was far too embarrassed to admit to. These were feelings that made him seem weak. These were feelings that he’d thought Jack Kinney had beaten out of him a long time ago. But the brave little blond sitting on his couch had asked for his honesty and Brian had somehow found enough courage of his own to give him what he’d requested - so he gave him his honest feelings without holding back.

“I want you to stay with me, Sunshine, because without you I don’t think I know how to be truly happy. I want to have silly, lighthearted fun. I want to be able to laugh and joke around and feel comfortable just existing in my own skin for a change. You showed me for the first time in my life that I could be a father, a friend, maybe even a boyfriend, and that it was okay to enjoy those roles. Nobody ever let me be like that before. I want to learn to be someone who is capable of being loved. Someone who is worthy of love . . .” Brian’s confession ended in a whisper, the difficult and painful words seemingly torn from his throat almost against his will, and yet probably the most genuine emotions he’d ever acknowledged.

“I don’t want to be a lost cause, Justin,” Brian sank down into the armchair directly across from his audience and looked into those deep blue ocean-tinged eyes pleadingly. “I realize that I’m pretty hopeless at all this relationship crap. And no matter how much I’ve sworn in the past that I don’t do jealousy or couples or love, the truth is I do. I can be petty and mean and I found out from Connor’s little return visits that I definitely DO jealousy. I know I’ll probably never be able to get the ‘rose gardens and sunshiny skies and the promise of a happily ever after where things will always be good and fine’ shit right. I’m the world’s worst candidate for a boyfriend ever invented, Sunshine. I know that, damn it!”

“And then there’s you - my exact fucking opposite in every damn way! You’re open and honest with yourself and ready to think the best about almost anyone. You find fun everywhere you fucking go, no matter what the hell you’re doing. You’ve got enthusiasm coming out of your ass and you’re so damn perky I want to smother you sometimes. When I met you I really didn’t know what to think - I’d never even dreamed there was somebody like you out there. If anyone had described you to me in advance, I would have run away screaming from the mere idea of you. But here I am, I’ve known you like two months, and I’m fucking addicted to you! You’re all I want, Justin, even though I never knew it’s what I wanted or needed. And I know that if I let you get away, I’ll be lost . . .”

Justin had been sitting quietly all this time, actively listening to Brian’s rare moment of openness. He was amazed really, that Brian was letting himself finally articulate all these long pent up feelings. It was so totally out of character for Brian. But it was also incredibly raw and honest and exactly what Justin had asked for. He knew it wasn’t likely that Brian would ever let himself be this exposed ever again. So he was determined to listen with his whole being and absorb what this normally closed man was telling him.

Unfortunately, Justin’s reserved silence only served to make Brian even more nervous. The absolute quiet allowed him to actually hear what he was saying. Brian’s inner defense mechanisms finally started kicking in as soon as his brain began to register all the drivel he’d been spewing. He’d made himself too vulnerable. It was too painful and far too dangerous.

“You know what, just fuck it,” Brian shook his head, getting up from his seat on the chair and beginning to physically as well as emotionally retreat. “Just forget everything I said, Justin. I don’t know what the fuck I was saying.”

“No, Brian,” Justin insisted, rising and moving to block Brian’s escape with his smaller but more determined body. “I won’t just forget what you said. You might be rattled after that incredible confession, but I’m not going to pretend I didn’t hear what you said and I won’t let you ignore it all either. I asked for honesty and you fucking gave it to me in spades. Shit!”

Brian stopped trying to push his way past the smaller man and meekly stood there, his lips rolled in to mask his expression and his gaze directed off into the vague distance of the hallway. Justin reached up with his right hand and gently caressed the taller man’s cheek, his thumb trailing along the ridge of Brian’s cheekbone until it slipped down and tenderly gripped the strong square jaw, forcing Brian to look at him. Brian wasn’t surprised to see a sweet and understanding smile on his highly empathic lover.

“Don’t run away, Brian,” Justin murmured, causing Brian to blink and sigh and then nod his agreement.

Justin took Brian by the hand and led him back over to the couch. This time he didn’t shrink into the corner or hide himself behind a pile of pillows. He sat down in the center of the middle cushion and pulled Brian down as close beside him as they could physically get without being right on top of one another. Brian followed where Justin directed him more compliantly than was his norm. He’d bared his soul to this other man, and now he could do nothing except relinquish all control over into what was to be to Justin’s hopefully-gentle hands.

“You know, all I can think of right now is this silly picture my Grandma had on the wall of her home when I was a child,” Justin huffed a little laugh as he related the memory. “It was one of those needlework sampler things that girls used to be forced to do - you know the type? They tend to be all flowery with little geometric designs and tiny little pictures done in embroidery thread and they always had some pithy little quote on them. Well, the one in the guest room where I used to sleep whenever I visited Grandma’s house had this quote that was attributed to Socrates, of all people. I don’t know why, but I never forgot it. It said, ‘Those who are hardest to love need it the most.’

“That’s you, Brian,” Justin affirmed, his hand squeezing Brian’s large hand as it rested comfortably in Justin’s lap. “You’re the hardest person to love that I’ve ever met. You’re so fucking aggravating at times I want to kill you. And talk about high maintenance! You have absolutely no idea how to be in a relationship, do you? I probably should run away now while I still have the chance,” Justin laughed softly and looked up at Brian with an intense longing. “But, I just can’t. You think you’re addicted to me? Well, buddy, it ain’t nothing compared to how attached I feel towards you. Only I’m not sure if I want to treat you like a little baby bird with a broken wing that I need to cuddle and take care of or spank your ass like a naughty little boy who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“If I get a vote, I think I’d prefer the spanking,” Brian joked, finally managing to regain a bit of his usual composure. “Although, I’d rather be the one doing the spanking, I think.”

“Hush, you!” Justin growled and swatted at Brian’s biceps to reprimand the jokester. “You do know that I’m still pissed off at you for the pink hair, right? That was going too fucking far! If you ever mess with my hair or my art, ever again, I’ll tan your flat ass until you can’t sit down again. I’m not joking either, Brian,” Justin warned, his voice betraying his seriousness on this particular issue.

“I promise never to compromise your hair or your art, Sunshine, if you agree to never again violate my clothing in anger,” Brian quipped with his typical tongue-in-cheek smirk and one elegantly raised eyebrow.

“Okay. I guess I can live with that, you big label queen. But all of your other OCD shit is still open game,” Justin warned and let off one of his full-wattage Sunshine smiles complete with a shake of his head and that mischievous glint in his eye he always got when he was planning trouble.

“Are we okay now,” Brian felt he had to ask, still a bit worried and unsure if their argument was officially at an end.

“Yeah. We’re okay,” Justin confirmed then modulated his voice into a more authoritarian tone, standing up with his hands on his hips and looking down at his now amenable pupil. “Now, Mr. Kinney, since you don’t seem to be at all prepared for this relationship shit, I think we’ll have to immediately begin a course of strenuous study. For your first lesson, you should know that all arguments must be concluded promptly thereafter with vigorous and thorough make-up sex. In addition, the bigger the argument, the more zealous the sex must be. And for your homework tonight, I’ll be calling into work so I can take a personal day, then I will personally be drilling you on this particular lesson. So you, young man, better hurry along to the bedroom and get yourself ready for some intensive tutoring . . .”

“Yes, Sir, Professor,” Brian eagerly replied, his shirt already unbuttoned as he practically ran towards the bedroom, more than ready to get to work under the expert tutelage of his favorite blond boy who was now back home to stay.