April
"Come on, it'll be great, you'll see. We'll go and sit on a beach and you can relax and rest up and then we can spend every night fucking our brains out."
Brian was tired of the conversation, but, as usual, when Justin had some idea in his head, he was a fucking bulldog about it. The others with them, Em and Michael and Ben exchanged small smiles. They'd heard this sort of thing before, too many times.
Shit.
"I told you that I'd think about it, now leave me the fuck alone."
"But..." Brian gave him one of his really pissed off glares. Justin went on anyway. "If we're going, we'll have to make the reservations this week and it's already Thursday. I'll have to call them tomorrow."
Not saying anything, Brian got up, walked out of Woody's, crossed the street to the 'vette, opened the car door, turned the key in the ignition and was about to leave Justin where he was when he heard the knock on the passenger door. Relenting, after a suitable thirty-second delay, he unlocked the door, letting his husband in.
They made the ten-minute trip in silence. They rode the elevator up in silence and when they went into the loft they separated to different areas. Brian headed for his computer, Justin to the TV. After about a silent hour, Justin got up, went over to Brian.
"I'm not trying to piss you off, I just thought that it would be fun to go away together."
"It would be, but not with a hundred thousand drunk students in fucking Cancun."
He crouched down beside Brian's chair, covering Brian's hand with his own. "So we can go somewhere else, wherever you want. It doesn't matter, Brian, just so that we're together and you can get a break."
Brian picked up Justin's hand in his own, kissing the back, holding onto it. "I can't get away now. The Coke contract was signed this afternoon and I have to work on that. They want a presentation in two weeks in Atlanta."
"Goddamn it, Brian. You fucking promised." Justin pulled his hand away, standing up. "You knew this when you got home. You probably knew this a couple of days ago and you just jerked me along with this 'oh we'll get away' shit." Justin was shaking his head, as angry as he'd ever been with Brian and that was saying quite a lot. "Just like you always do—'stupid Sunshine will get over it'. Well fuck you."
"I knew on Tuesday that we had the account. I only found out this afternoon about the actual schedule. We can go away when this campaign is approved."
"You're so full of shit. There's always another fucking account or some client who needs his dick stroked."
The next hour was spent in more silence. Justin was upstairs reading, or pretending to read in bed. Brian pretended to work on the computer. Around one he stripped and climbed in beside his husband. The lights were off. He put his hand on the pale shoulder turned away from him. He knew Justin was still awake.
"You should go. Maybe Daphne could go with you." He spoke quietly, knowing it wasn't what Justin wanted to hear.
"I don't want to go with Daphne. I want to go with you."
"I know that, but I can't and there's no reason for you to just sit home. I'll be going to Atlanta a couple of times a week at least through the end of the month anyway." He was gently rubbing the skin. "I want you to have fun. I won't even be here a good part of the time."
"Goddamn it, Brian..."
"Justin, go with Daphne. I'll even pay her way."
"Are you trying to fucking get rid of me?" He turned over, staring at Brian.
"I'm trying to let you have a good time with one of your friends since I can't go with you. I thought that you might enjoy yourself."
"Damnit, Brian—we've only been married a few months and you're already suggesting separate vacations."
God, more drama queening. "I can't go now, you have a week off. This isn't that big a deal."
Justin looked at him, staring, intent. Finally he asked, "...Are you still tricking?"
Jesus.
"I told you when we got married that I wouldn't have said the vows if I didn't mean them."
"So you're not?"
Brian put his hand on Justin's cheek. "I haven't been with anyone else since about a month before Vermont."
Justin looked at, weighing what he had just said. "When—if—I go, will you..."
"No." Brian leaned in, kissing the young man. He had meant what he had said, in Vermont and five seconds ago. When he and Justin had married, he had decided that was it. Alright, he didn't honestly see an occasional fuck a big deal, but he knew Justin didn't see it that way and he honestly didn't want to hurt him—and he knew tricking would cause Justin pain. Besides, he'd meant that shit about the vows—he wouldn't have said that 'forsaking all others' line if he didn't intend to go along with it.
Shit, he edited things for a living; he could have red-penciled that without a pause if he had a problem with it.
He had argued with himself over this for quite a while, telling himself that he wasn't responsible for Justin's happiness—and it was true. On the other hand, he didn't want to be the cause of unhappiness if he could avoid it.
Justin had never actually asked him to stop screwing around, he had never said he would stop, but he had with nothing being said. It was one of those unspoken agreements, at least as far as he was concerned.
He started to stroke his hands along Justin's side, up as far as his ear then down as far as his wrist. Make up sex seemed to be called for, whether he had to get up at six or not.
Around ten the next morning Brian was in a meeting when his cel went off. Over Vance's annoyed expression and with a brief, "Excuse me, this will just take a moment" he went to the window and spoke softly enough to not be over heard.
"Yes, I want you to go...I fucking told you that I'd pay for Daphne, too. Tell her that she'll just need to cover her spending money...No you twat, you can't take my credit card or any of my clothes. Take your own fucking stuff...Yes. Book it...I'll see you when I get home."
When he sat back down, Vance spoke first. "Problems, Brian?"
"No, Gardner. Everything's fine."
"Good."
A half-hour later Vance found Brian in the art department looking over some roughs for Coke. "Have you a minute?"
They went out to the hallway, the others giving them a wide berth.
"Look, Brian, I know you've been putting in a tremendous amount of hours the last few months, is this causing problems at home?"
"No, of course not." Vance had been working almost as much. "Why, is Susan upset with your schedule?"
"My wife understands that I need to travel and all of that. I have no wish to intrude, but does Justin understand this as well?" He saw the startled, annoyed expression flicker across Brian's face. "Forgive me, he's so young. It must be difficult for him."
"Yes, he does understand and he's fine." Fucking shit. He was slipping badly if Vance was questioning him about this. Fuck and fuck again.
"Good."
A week later Brian slid the door open in the loft. It was after eleven, he was exhausted and Justin had left three days ago. Taking advantage of being alone for a while, he had been upping his hours to get everything done, allowing him to leave for Georgia with a clear conscience. He debated between finding something to eat and a shower, realized that he was too fucking tired for either and opted for fifteen minutes of the late news, a glass of JB to relax him and bed.
He was due at the airport at six thirty the next morning to catch a flight to Atlanta, head straight to the Coca Cola Headquarters and give the presentation to coke's own in house ad people so that they would all be on the same page.
With any luck he would be able to sleep a couple of hours on the plane.
He had accepted Vance's offer of a car service. Cynthia would be going with him.
The news was boring. He was about to hit the sheets when he went to the desk. Booted the computer.
Yes, an e-mail from Justin. Good.
"Dear Brian,
We're having the best time and I miss you madly, totally, completely. Daph is great, but she's not who I want in my bed, but you know that.
Hot, sunny, fabulous. Crowded, noisy, hordes of drunks. Incredible water, amazing snorkeling, we're learning to scuba—will dive tomorrow on a wreck.
Eating everything but not eating anybody. Waiting till I get some homegrown meat.
Daph says that if I tell her once more how much I miss you she'll drown me tomorrow.
Are you OK? I was getting worried about you alone. I know you eat crap and don't sleep if I'm there.
You promised to cut back and get some rest while I'm gone. Are you? Please. For me, OK?
I love you. I miss you. I love you.
J"
Shit. Yeah, rest.
If he slowed down the others would catch up.
He did manage to sleep in the plane and managed to put on a show of complete professionalism for the ones who needed to be impressed. On the way out of the meeting his arm was caught by the senior account guy, Mark something. Gardar pinging like fucking sonar, he asked if I was busy for lunch—seems there was some shit he wanted to go over with Brian. Yeah, no shit.
"Thanks, but if you don't mind, I need to get a hold of my office for a bit. If you have some time after lunch we could talk."
"...Yeah, sure. No problem. If you want, you can use my office. Dial "9" to get an outside line and if you need to connect your modem, just ask my secretary, she'll set you up. I'll catch you about two, if that's alright."
"Great. I'll see you then."
He called Vance, told him that things were going just fine, that he had two more meetings today and a couple tomorrow and should be back in the office the day after. Next he got the secretary to get the fucking computer working. She also got him a sandwich and some mineral water.
Naturally, he had mail. He always had mail.
"Dear Brian,
I haven't heard from you since my last e-mail. Are you alright? I'm worried.
I love you.
J"
There was a second one with Justin's return addy.
Dear Brian,
Please write Justin. If he doesn't hear from you he makes me crazy.
Love, Daphne.
PS. When guys hit on him—which they do A LOT, he just oh-so-casually twists rests his chin in his left hand, shows his ring and says, nonchalantly, "Fuck off, I'm married." You sooooo have nothing to worry about.
Dear Justin,
Yes, I'm fine.
Yes, I miss you.
Yes, I'm getting rest.
Yes, I'm eating.
And, yes, I'll try to go with you next time.
B
When Justin had asked if he's be traveling this week, he had said that the schedule wasn't finalized. He had left the young man with the impression that he'd be close to home, that he would be able to get some down time and that he'd likely spent some evenings hanging with the boys at Woody's.
The finalized schedule had put him in Chicago Monday and Tuesday. Home Wednesday morning, in the office the rest of the day then Atlanta the rest of the week. He hadn't bothered to unpack, just took out the worn clothing, replacing them with fresh. He had slept in their bed once this week. Next week looked about the same only then it would be New York on Monday, Long Island on Tuesday, Albany on Wednesday, home Thursday and back to Atlanta on Thursday night. He'd be home again Saturday morning in time to get Justin and Daphne at the airport Saturday evening.
Christ. He was a walking zombie. When he had asked Vance if, possibly, someone else could do the minor clients just this once, he had been informed that they wanted to feel important and that meant a partner. In fairness, Vance was working the same hours in Pittsburgh and Brian knew that when Justin got home he wouldn't be asked to travel quite so much, but still—he was fucking tired.
He finally told Vance that when Coke was put to bed, he wanted a couple of weeks to recoup. There had been no argument. This was the account that would put them in the major leagues and Brian was the one who was responsible for the whole thing, concept to pitch to sale to finish.
A week later he was finishing up a meeting on the fifty-seventh floor of the Chrysler Building. Another day, another pitch. Vance wanted to get their toes in the New York waters and today it was the headquarters for new upstart computer company wanting to crack the inexpensive high school/college market. When Brian told them that inexpensive was great but that a lot of the students needed cutting edge shit and, yes, would know the difference, they had agreed to rethink the direction they had planned. In fact they had congratulated him on his having his pulse on the student market.
No shit. He lived with one.
On the way to the elevator, the Vice President of the company, who was about twenty three, casually brushed his hand across Brian's crotch, lingering a moment and looking him in the eye.
"I'll be late for my next meeting."
"Maybe you'd like to have dinner? I know some great places."
"I'm not interested."
"You interested in the account?"
"In the account, yes, I'm just not interested in you."
The president joined them. This one was all of twenty-four. "Ted! There you two are. Mr. Kinney, I'll have those signed contracts in your offices day after tomorrow. This is just the sort of thing we've been looking for, right Ted?"
Annoyed, Ted had no choice but to agree. Asshole.
A car was waiting to take him to the hotel he was booked in for the night in Oyster Bay in preparation for the next day's meeting in neighboring Glen Cove. Arriving at about five, he was, politely, informed that they had no record of his reservation and, because of the convention, were booked solid, as were all the local hotels. Well, yes, that was one of their confirmation numbers, but it wasn't coming up in the computer.
Shit.
The front desk looked up a number for him and even allowed him to use their phone.
"Hello, Bill? It's Brian. I'm sorry to call like this with no warning, but I was hoping that you would be able to put me up tonight...No, Justin isn't with me, I'm just here for a couple of days for business and they've lost my reservation...That's great. Thank you. I appreciate it...Soon, fifteen, twenty minutes."
The hotel had him driven to Justin's grandparents, less than five miles away.
"Brian, this is a nice surprise. Come in here, Have you eaten?" Justin's grandfather was shaking his hand, taking his bag and his coat.
Claudia, Justin's grandmother, came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "I hope you're hungry." He hugged her, kissing her cheek. They had met twice before, once last summer at Jen's house for a cookout and last Christmas he had stayed with them for a few days before he and Justin had gone to get married. He liked them both.
In the kitchen the food was ready, a casserole, probably constructed from leftovers, but hot and filling and just fine. The conversation was mostly small talk. Brian filled them in on his business, told them that Justin had gone on vacation without him at his own insistence and that they were both fine, thanks, and happy.
After the meal, he stayed to help with the dishes while Bill left to watch the news. Claudia wasn't one to beat around the bush.
"Sweetie, are you all right? Excuse my saying this, but you look like you're about dead on your feet."
He smiled, sipped some coffee. "I'm alright. I've just been doing a lot of traveling the last couple of months. There's been a lot of over time."
"I understand that you're good at what you do."
"Yes."
"Is Justin upset that you couldn't go with him? I know that when I was a newlywed, I wanted Bill next to me every night." She laughed. "Yes, I still do, well most nights, anyway."
"He's alright, Justin, I mean." It wasn't enough.
"Brian, I know better than that. Are you two having problems making the adjustment to being married?" She closed the door to the dishwasher, turning to sit with him at the table.
Hell's bells. "What's Jen been saying to you?"
She poured herself a cup of the coffee, gestured to a cake, if he wanted a piece. He didn't. "She hasn't said much, just that she thinks that Justin is a little frustrated at the amount of time you devote to your job and that his friends don't—forgive me for saying this—don't always seem comfortable around you."
He gestured with his hands. "He knows that my work is important to me and I can't help it if I don't have much in common with college kids and midterms. Justin understands this."
"Honey, he may understand it and I know that he loves you to death, but that doesn't mean that it's good for him or that it will make him happy."
"You're not suggesting that I quit my job and go back to school, are you? Maybe get another master's?"
"Of course not. Just keep in mind that he's not where you are, he's still going through all those things you did years ago."
"Claudia, shit, I know that. That's why he's in Mexico right now for Spring Break with a bunch of fucking college students"
"While you're breaking your back working, he's off playing. Brian, sweetie, I know that you're just trying to let him be a college student, but he needs to be your husband and know that you need him." She paused for a second. "Or at least that you take him as an equal."
"I do." He was close to using his glare.
"Honey, you sent him out to play with his friends so you could do the real work without him getting in the way. You might get away with this once, but he's smart as a whip and he knows exactly what you've done. Can I give you some free advice from someone who's known him longer than you have? Don't do it again." She patted his hand. "I know you want to tell me to mind my own business, but you know that Justin is my business and since you two got married, so are you."
He gave her a half smile, really not up to dealing with family crap right now, but fuck it. It was her kitchen. Leaning, he kissed her cheek.
Later that night Brian set up his laptop in the study, connected to the phone line and checked his mail.
Dear Brian,
Daph isn't here. She hooked up with some guy from UCLA on the beach today and I guess she's getting laid.
I can hear the people in the next room going at it and it's making me so horny I can't stand it.
God I miss you.
I keep thinking about walking along the beach with you, holding hands, going into the water when we get hot, making love all the time and eating this amazing food.
I look at the guys here and some of them are hot and they hit on me a lot and all I want is you. I want you next to me and I wish your arms were around me and that we could sleep together and wake up and make love and you could finally get enough sleep (I mean when we're not busy) and that you'd smile that Brian smile you get when you've just cum and you're happy and relaxed and we're really together.
I miss you. I love you.
I look at my ring and I touch it and I love you so much.
J
Brian hit 'reply'.
Dear Justin,
I think that this might have been a mistake, you going away.
I know you're having a good time, and that's what I wanted, but I want us to be together.
Yes, I miss you, too.
B
The reply came back almost immediately.
I love you, Brian.