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Another tremor racked through my body as the plane eased off the tarmac and into the cool night air, flakes of snow floating lazily past me as I stared out from my window seat. That last jolt had woken me from my sleep, though for that I was grateful.
I had been dreaming about Brian again. That was the fifth time this week and it didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon. I had thought that over time, I would recover, maybe even find someone I loved. But it had been five years and I was still stuck in my mindless stupor, trying to avoid the obvious. No matter how hard I tried (and trust me, I tried hard, my dick being a testimony to that very statement), I couldn't let him go.
I often found myself wondering if we shared mutual feelings about the distance between us. In the beginning, we had attempted a long distance relationship, with Brian coming over to New York every few weeks and I going back to Pittsburgh, reliving my glory days as I blazed down Liberty Avenue with Brian, Michael, Emmett, Ted and Ben by my side. And for a while, it really seemed to work. It seemed I had the best of both worlds. However, the demands of my touring exhibition meant that I could travel less and less until eventually I was so consumed by work, I hadn't realized it had been over a year since I'd last seen Brian.
It didn't help that Brian's advertising company, Kinnetik, had manifested substantially, becoming the largest in the country. Overtime, we grew apart and before I knew it, we stopped visiting each other all together. I had tried on numerous times to clear up my hectic schedule to visit him, insisting that my manager leave me at least one week free. But it just wasn't possible.
Of course, I never forgot Brian, not even for a second. More times than I could possibly remember, I found myself jerking off to the thought of him, remembering his warm embrace as we made love on every possible surface at his loft. The smell of his bed sheets filled my vision and once I even heard myself moan Brian's name as I fucked a guy I had meet the day before. Needless to say, he wasn't very impressed but he let me finish the job.
Even now, as I sat on the plane that was twelve hours away from Paris for my latest galley exhibition, everything reminded me of Brian. I shook my head in frustration, my knuckles turning to a sickly shade of white as I tried to erase some of the tension in my body.
I leaned back, reclining my feet and thankful that my manager had booked me a first class ticket. I guess the lavish lifestyle that Brian led had rubbed off on me slightly and now first class was the way I preferred to travel. However, I would have been happier if the plane was going in the direction of Pittsburgh. Judging by the way my thoughts continually traced back to Brian, I had a feeling that this was going to be a long flight.
I fell asleep again, though to my immense hesitancy, as I knew I would only dream of Brian. I awoke, groggy and agitated. Most of the passengers had gone to sleep, the attendants leaving the aisle free so that I could get up uninterrupted and head to the toilet. As my foot touched the aisle, my head shot up instinctively when I heard the most recognizable voice in the world.
"Theodore, make sure that my clients have all their needs met so that when I touch down in Paris, I won't have to do your job. Remember, I'm the boss and you're the one who is supposed to ensure that shit doesn't hit the fan and ruin the stellar image of Kinnetik." Brian paused, smiling at something.
He sat at the front of the cabin, alone and facing ahead, having not seen me yet. He really hadn't changed over the five years that I knew him. He was as beautiful as ever, with sly smirk on his face that I loved to see. I hesitated, somehow thinking that maybe it was a good idea I just sit down and sink into my seat for the rest of the flight. What would he think of me after all this time? Would he be angry that I stopped visiting him?
I almost sat back down, thinking there were too many buried memories that need not be unearthed. However, my body had other plans and I was positive that I wouldn't make it through the twelve-hour flight without peeing.
Brushing wisps of blonde hair in front of my face in the hopes that I could partially hide some of my identity, I slouched forward, thinking that Brian was too consumed in his conversation that he wouldn't notice me. He'd probably just assume I was going to the bathroom for a good fuck, considering there were mainly males in this area of the cabin.
I thought I was in the clear when I paced past Brian, not even once breaking my concentration as I focused on the bathroom door. He didn't even look up as I passed and I breathed in a sigh of relief when I shut the door behind me. I twisted my body, my hands reaching at my pants, itching to be relieved when I heard the door open behind me.
"Sorry, occupied." I mumbled. The door shut again, though this time I could feel someone's breath lingering on my neck. I knew who it was. Of course I hadn't fooled him. He was Brian Kinney, for fucks sake. Slowly, I twisted my torso in the limited space and stood before the face of God, as I commonly liked to refer to him as.
"Sunshine." He said simply then leaned towards me, his lips within inches of mine. Suddenly, a knock on the door jolted us both back into reality and we heard the wispy voice of a female attendant. "Excuse me men but would please return to your seats." She opened the door, clearly surprised that our pants weren't already at our feet and we weren't fucking like there was no tomorrow.
"Please." She asked again and Brian retreated from the bathroom without a word, sitting back down. I stood there, dazed for a few seconds before also returning to my seat. What had just happened? I knew that Brian wasn't adverse to a good fuck courtesy of Virgin Airlines but it had been five years since we had last seen each other and he was willing to kiss me like I had only seen him yesterday.
For the rest of the flight, under close supervision by the attendants who all knew that we were up to no good, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander to Brian. He never returned my stare and after a while I was content to just stare at him, knowing that he was never going to look up. Instead, he was on the phone, on his laptop, and looking everywhere but at me.
Well, I got the message loud and clear. The pilot spoke overhead warned us of some minor turbulence as we landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport and watched intently as the lights of Paris came into view. The Eiffel Tower stood out against the backdrop of the twilight sky, occupants of the city not showing any signs of rest as the night life breathed a sigh of relief, free from the oppressive authority of everyday mundane activities.
I would have liked to soak up some of the nightlife but my manager has insisted that I go to the gallery as soon as the plane hit the tarmac. I sighed, knowing that once I left this plane, I'd probably never see Brian again. A longing in my heart gnawed at me for the duration of the flight and, as expected, Brian left his seat as soon as we landed without saying a single word to me.
And then he was gone. Just like that. Of the many times throughout our relationship, I had never felt as miserable as I did then. Miserable that he had said nothing as he walked right past me to leave; miserable that I hadn't worked up the courage to talk to him. Just plain miserable. The dealers handling my exhibition were going to get a rude awakening when I stepped into their grandeur halls with a look of death on my face.
Forty minutes later and I was in a room full of complete strangers, gushing over how magnificent they thought my work was. They were selling left, right and centre at a rate that I could barely fathom. But my attention was led awry, my thoughts constantly tracking back to Brian, mentally kicking myself that I hadn't said nor done anything.
When he was pressed up against in the bathroom stall, our bodies barely separated, a flood of memories doused my brain and I could barely move. I wanted more than anything to feel his lips against mine, the sweet scent of his breath mingled with mine. I remember looking down and seeing that he was hard, just like me. If the attendant hadn't interrupted us when she did, I would have gone down on him then and there.
But I wasn't there any more and the time had passed. Now I had to focus on my exhibition. It was clearly a success but the more that sold, the more depressed I became. What was the point of doing something you enjoyed if you had no one to share it with? I walked around the hall, inspecting some of the paintings still hanging and sighed. Brian had inspired everything I had painted since I had left for New York in some way or another and seeing it all being sold to strangers just further kicked my wounded soul.
I sauntered over to the bar, ordering a gin and tonic. The bar tender, a cute young boy who looked no older than twenty greeted with me with an alluring smile and proceeded to pour my drink while keeping his eyes on me. I looked away, uncomfortable.
"I'll have the same as him." Someone said as they sat down next to me. I turned in utter disbelief to see Brian sitting there in a casual outfit, nothing like businessman from before, and he turned and smiled at me.
"Brian…" I finally chocked out and he offered me a snicker.
"Close your mouth, Sunshine. You're drooling all over the bar." I did what he said, noticing how the bartenders attention immediately switched from me to Brian. Some things never changed.
"What the hell are you doing here? No, actually, how the hell did you know to come here?"
"What, aren't you happy to see me?" Brian teased, but I sensed that he truly was wondering what the answer was.
"Of course…it's just, it's been so long." I said, still unable to comprehend what exactly was going. It was as if my body and mind couldn't fully believe he was here, that if I reached out to him and touched him, he would dissolve and I would realize that it was only a dream.
"I came to see the Justin Taylor exhibition of the century. I've actually heard it's pretty good."
I placed my hand over his, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest at the familiar touch. "Brian, how did you know I was here?"
Brian hesitated, like he didn't want to show such vulnerability after five years. I hoped that he would be honest with me, and not deflect every comment or question I asked. Who knows? Maybe the five years that had built up between us had pushed us back to square one and he still saw me as that naive kid when we first met.
"I guess, you could say, I've been keeping track of your exhibitions. It just happens that I have some clients here in Paris that wanted to have a meeting at the same time you were doing your art exhibition. That fact that we were booked on the same flight is a complete coincidence." The cunning look on his face when he said this told me otherwise. He downed his gin and tonic in one swig then motioned to the bar tender to bring him another.
So Brian did care about me. Even after all this time, he was still checking up on me to see how my progress was going.
I turned away from him, getting up from my seat and walking to one of my closest pieces, pretending as if I hadn't seen it a million times before. I felt incredibly sick to my stomach, guilt growing by the second. Over our five-year separation, at least he had attempted to show some kind of support whereas I got so swept up in my work, I didn't even bother.
"I quite like this one," Brian gestured behind me. He was pointing to one of my favorites, no surprises there. The colors seemed to literally jump out of the canvas as the frame try futilely to conceal the explosion. But even with all of this happening, there was still a hint melancholy. Most of my works were like that thanks to the absence of Mr. Brian Kinney. I guess it wasn't the worst thing, considering they sold like wild fire.
"Brian, why did you come here? I mean, really, no bullshit. Why?" Brian leaned into the frame, as if he was attempting to find some missing link.
"I missed you." He said without making eye contact. The words were so quite that I barely caught them. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to check my reaction but I couldn't even look him in the eye.
"I have to go." I blurted out suddenly, twisting suddenly and frantically looking for the nearest exit. I had to get away, I needed to. It felt like I couldn't breathe; couldn't speak.
"Justin?" Brian called out behind me but I didn't respond.
I began sprinting through the crowd of people, pushing them out of my way in order to escape. Once I made it to the bathroom, I collapsed into one of the bathroom stalls, instinctively moving my head to wretch. But nothing came up but a strangled sob.
My chest tightened as I tried to breathe but it was useless.
"Fuck!" I screamed. I punched the wall to my left, feeling my knuckles immediately bruise. "Fuck."
Hope you liked the first chapter. More adventures are to come in the city of love :)