Chapter 9 - Everything Old Is …New Again

Justin awoke the next day with one thought on his mind. Much as he expected, he couldn’t wait to get upstairs to paint. There was so much he needed to get out, so much he needed to process, and so many feelings warring within him, that he didn’t even think about breakfast. Anyone who knew him knew that was a rare state of affairs indeed.


As he wandered around the studio, setting up several canvases, pulling colors and brushes and placing them around the work space., he wasn’t really consciously thinking about the fact that this was going to be a marathon session, even though there could be no doubt that it would be.


Sitting down with pencils and pad, he began to sketch.

First, because the vision of it kept twirling around and around in his brain ever since, he drew what he had seen when he had first noticed Brian at the deli counter the other evening, then as he sat across from him at the table that same night. Next, he drew Brian standing in the hotel room, the look on his face that had so many facets to it that he couldn’t describe it in words. He drew Brian walking away all those years ago, and then he drew him in the throes of passion just this week, hovering over him as they simultaneously reached their peak and tumbled over, all masks removed and emotions spilling over. Lastly, he drew him as he lay in bed, an eerie combination of that morning so very long ago when he left him in the Pitts to come to NY, and yesterday morning when he left him sleeping in that room.


He began to paint, the first two flowing from him almost effortlessly, with barely a need to interrupt the constant reel of moments and memories running through his head like a personal double feature.


The first work, portraying that which does not last, was a split canvas depiction of Justin’s last view of his lover lying face down across the bed as Justin walked away, then and now. The two were parted by an abstract silhouette of Brian as he turned and walked down the street that day five years ago.


The second canvas held glimpses of Brian’s eyes, the surprised wonder when blue met hazel in the deli, the pained acceptance as they refused to say goodbye before he left the Pitts. The stark background suddenly was flowing with swirls of emotion from the past as well as the present, all most definitely expressed without Brian’s assent or control, and so real that they still took Justin’s breath away. In contrast to the first piece, these imageries reflected that which endures, all centered by the hunger and want Brian’s face held as he looked down on Justin, dazed with desire. If there was one thing the artist knew for certain it was this; the passion, the lust, the overwhelming yearning he and Brian shared for each other; that would never end.


Putting the finishing touches on the second painting, Justin absentmindedly looked at his watch and then walked over to the mini-fridge he kept stocked for just such occasions. He had been painting for hours without stopping, and that meant that he had not kept himself hydrated and would not be able to continue for long without feeling the ill effects that would result if he did not take a moment to have a drink and a snack.


He would need to stop and regroup either way The two pieces he had just completed in the space of one morning had come from memories etched so deeply into his brain that he could almost recreate them without thought. He snickered to himself as he realized that even after all this time, Brian was still the most common theme throughout so much of his work. The man was such a part of who he was that he supposed that nothing else was possible.


This third picture required more from him though, it would be the anchor piece for the other two, and it would take a clear head and conscious contemplation.

He already knew what the name of this piece would be…Cacophony.


He thought back to the incongruous and yet simultaneous features he had seen on Brian’s face the other night. At the same time, he remembered how unsettled he had felt, as he tried to piece together what he knew about his former partner and all that Brian’s expression seemed to convey.


Once again he tried to reconcile the man he had seen before him, actually physically composing himself, against always in control, always unruffled Brian Kinney. It was beyond unsettling…it was surreal. Yet there was no denying that he had seen things on the other man’s face that night that he would have sworn on his grandmother’s grave he would never, ever, see. He still had no idea how to process any of that.


Fear mixed with the longing, hesitance mixed with unbridled lust, want tinged with indisputable need…chaos, commotion and disorder in the otherwise always put together and totally unflappable Brian Kinney. So many layers that didn’t seem like they could all exist within one man, even a man like Brian.


Justin knew that he had always been able to see some of what Brian tried to hide from the world, even from Justin himself, but this was different. It was open. It was out there. There was no fortress, no ruse, no secret emotion hidden behind his defenses. As he began to paint, Justin realized that rather than the closure he had sought, things had never been more unclear.


/bj/


Brian rolled over and squinted, as the sun in his eyes pierced like a knife in his already pounding head. He groaned to himself as he looked at the clock and realized that once again he had slept long past his usual wake-up time.


Going through his morning ablutions, he struggled to get his bearings and remember all that had transpired last night. As he did though, he was immediately sorry that he had.


His conversation with Justin had not gone even remotely the way he had hoped. The younger man wasn’t even willing to try, wanted nothing to do with them getting back together. “Fuck!” he shouted, as he pounded his fist against the wall, and then grimaced in pain from his head as well as his wrist.


“He doesn’t want you, Kinney. You have to pull yourself together.” He winced once again as he realized how pathetic he sounded. He showered and dressed, then forced himself to sit and make a few phone calls that needed his attention, thinking to himself that he still had a business to run.


Several calls later, he spoke with Ted as they reviewed some client numbers that needed to be finalized before Brian was expected back in town. Finishing their business, Ted very warily asked, ‘Uh, Brian. Are you ok? Is there anything…you need.”

“Why, whatever would I need, Teddy-boy? Hmmm.”, Brian’s sarcasm reflected his reticence to let this conversation go any further.


“Uh. I was wondering….did you…I mean…you kind of sound like shit, boss. You didn’t happen to run into a certain blond twink who shall remain nameless, did you?”


Brian jumped up, his voice nearly exploding across the phone, “What the fuck, Cynthia. I thought you could keep…”


“Brian. BRIAN. Cynthia didn’t say anything to me, although you have definitely confirmed it for yourself. I just thought, with the way you sound, coupled with where you are…that the likelihood of something like this, no matter how impossible it might seem, well…you know.”


“So, Teddy. Are you gonna’ bust on me about it, too. Mikey already had a field day last night. I should know better…I don’t need him…and so on and so on and so on.” Brian pinched his nose in frustration, wanting nothing more than for this discussion to be over.


“Why the fuck would I do that, Brian. Me, of all people. Not only am I the poster boy for second chances when I took Blake back, but, fuck, Brian. I saw what losing Justin did to you. You think I didn’t notice, that I don’t know what he means to you?”


Hearing the sincerity in Ted’s voice stopped Brian in his tracks. He had lost sight of how good a friend Ted had become. Now hearing that the man knew, that he understood, and that he hadn’t used it against him all these years as his other so called friend might have, gave him pause to reflect that he had quite a few things to consider as he moved on with his life.



“Fuck, Ted. I didn’t plan to. In fact, I tried my best to avoid him. When I ran into him, at a deli of all places,” Brian chuckled, “it almost brought me to my knees…He’s made it very clear, though. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. I tried to talk to him, to…uh…fuck…to tell him how I…” Brian was practically choking on his words at this point, and Ted, knowing how difficult this entire conversation was for Brian, quickly put him out of his misery.


“Listen, Brian,” Ted cut in. “Let’s think back. You rejected Justin, in the beginning, at least several times a week. What did he do? He kept coming back, taking your…a.. sorry, but…taking your shit, and coming back for more, determined that you get it through your head that he loved you and he wasn’t going anywhere until you knew it, too. Nothing you could do would get rid of him.”


“I told you, I fucking tried,’ Brian grumbled. “I told him. I gave him all the words I wouldn’t give him back then, I poured my fucking heart out, and he turned me down. He fucking turned me down, Ted. What the hell more could I do?” Brian rolled his eyes, barely able to believe he was even having this exchange.


“Just be there, Brian, no matter how hard he tries to push you away. Let him know that you have no intention of giving up on him. Then back up your words with action. Look, Brian, I know you’re probably gonna’ hate this, but I’ve seen how much you miss him, the look in your eyes when his name comes up. Don’t lose the only chance you might have to get back what you lost. We don’t get many chances in this life to undo the mistakes of the past. Don’t waste this, Brian, and fuck anyone who doesn’t support you if you reach out and find what you’ve been missing. Now, uh, I gotta’ go. Call me if you need anything. Bye, Brian.” And with that Ted hung up, sure that he had stepped so far over the line that if he didn’t disconnect right that minute, not only would his job be in jeopardy, but he would be taking his very life as he knew it in his own hands.


/bj/


Brian looked down at the paper containing all the information Cynthia had given him the day before. He tried to quell the uncharacteristic nervousness he was feeling, but he was so far outside of his own comfort zone that it would need its own fucking zip code. Fuck! How was it possible that he was even considering this? If he was honest with himself, however, if was even more impossible to imagine not putting himself out there, doing whatever it takes, for however long it takes, to let his Sunshine know just how much he loves him.


He had hoped to use the element of surprise to his advantage by showing up at Justin’s studio unannounced, but that plan was not going to work. The studio address, it seemed, was the same as his home. The little shit had built a fucking studio on the top floor of his townhouse! Most efficient, Sunshine!


Standing on the top step of Justin’s stoop, the older man hesitated for only a moment, and then rang the bell. He rang a second time, and was just about to walk away when the door opened.


“Brian? Why are you here?” Brian registered the combination of confusion, annoyance, and want that showed on Justin’s face.


“I didn’t think you were going to open the door. Can I come in, “ Brian asked, averting his eyes as he stared at a spot down the street. Forcing himself to bring his gaze back and lock eyes with the younger man, Brian continued, “or are you going to make me do this out here on the steps?”


“Do what here on the steps, Brian. What more is there to say? And…uh……sorry, I was on the third floor when you rang.” Justin’s country club manners came out even as he glared as Brian in frustration. “Why are you making this so much harder than it needs to be?”


“You still love me, Justin. I know you do.” Brian began.


Justin opened the door, and motioned for Brian to come in, having no more interest in making a scene in public for his neighbors to witness than the brunette did.