Title: New Campaign
Author: Simon
Pairing: B/J/OC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A sequel to New Kid and New Account. Keith is back and still wants Brian
Warnings: OC.
Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.
Archive: Moonshadow Tribe and ATP
Feedback: Hell, yes.
New Campaign
"Brian? There's a call for you on seven. Keith White. Are you available?"
It was about two fifty-five on Wednesday, the weekly senior staff meeting would be starting in five minutes and he had to run the damn thing because Gardner was in Hawaii on a get away with his third wife in an effort to stay married this time.
Hell.
"Yes, I'll take it…Keith, hello. What's on your mind?"
"I was hoping that you might be able to come out here for a long weekend. I have a few ideas I'd like to go over with you and it would be easier face-to-face. Is that possible?"
Shit.
"This weekend isn't good, could you fax me your thoughts, or e-mail them to me? Maybe overnight them?"
"I was hoping to see you in person. Tell you what. What if I come to you? I'll fly in Friday and we can talk that evening, maybe over dinner and Saturday. Is that doable?"
Fuck and shit.
"That would be fine. I'll look forward to it. Let me know when you're arriving and if you want we'll make some reservations for you on this end."
Keith was CEO and founder of Multitech, a computer company that was challenging Dell and Gateway in the mid range home market. They had a well-deserved rep as a good company to do business with. Their products were top of the line and they stood behind them in everyway they could, from warranties and guarantees to tech support available 24/7 that involved real people and answers anyone could understand.
Vanguard had landed the account, or rather, Brian had, about a year ago. Keith had initiated the contact and basically handed it to Brian on a platter.
They had known each other in high school.
They had been lovers.
In fact, Keith had been Brian's first lover, his first—everything.
It had ended badly with Brian being dumped. OK, there was more to it than that, but that was enough for a basic background.
A year ago Keith had shown up and made it more than clear that he'd like to pick up where they'd left off in 1987.
The contract was theirs either way, but he would only agree to the signing if Brian handled the account. Personally.
There was no real choice; the job was worth over five million dollars annually. He had to agree to take charge of the account.
He didn't, however, agree to renewing their affair and Keith knew that. He knew that Brian and Justin were together and had been for several years now. In a visit Brian had been forced to make out to the California headquarters when the deal was being finalized a year ago, he had made it clear that he wasn't part of the package. He had. He had told Keith and Keith had seemed to understand that. He said he did, at any rate. In fact they had agreed that unless there was some kind of major problem, they would conduct their business through the various wire and electronic services available. Their in person contact would be kept to a minimum.
That had worked for a year. They hadn't seen each other face to face since then.
He knew that Brian was involved with someone and wasn't too concerned. As he had put it to Brian: He'd waited fifteen years, a couple more wouldn't make much difference and he was confident that Brian and Justin would run their course. When they were done, he'd be waiting.
He had promised not to make a move that wasn't welcomed, that he'd make no passes or in anyway act in less than a professional manner—until Brian was ready. He still loved Brian, had never stopped, in fact, and he could bide his time.
And he'd be in Pittsburgh Friday afternoon.
Damnit.
Hanging up the phone he stood up, made his way to the main conference room for the staff meeting and managed to compartmentalize his afternoon enough that no one knew that his mind wasn't anywhere near the ballpark everyone else was in. He pulled it off, though, or he was pretty sure he did. Well, yes, Cynthia had given him an odd look as everyone had filed out, but that wasn't any big deal. They were used to each other.
The meeting was over around four thirty, by quarter of five he was out the door—unusual for him since he could usually be counted on to work late—and headed home. He knew Justin was upset about Keith, that he felt threatened, and he just didn't want to have to deal with the fireworks he knew would be coming as soon as Justin found out that the plans they'd made to get away for a few days would have to be pushed back a week or two because he had a client coming to town who would have to be entertained after, and likely before, the business part of things could get done.
All in all, the rest of the week was looking pretty crappy, in fact, when he had a few minutes to think about the way this was shaping up, he realized that not only was he dreading the damn visit, but he was almost starting to feel like he had, well, maybe 'stalker' was too strong a word, but he had a watcher anyway. And he didn't like it.
Damnit.
He pulled the 'vette into his usual parking place in front of his building, hoping that Justin wouldn't be home yet. He'd really like to have an hour or two to himself to unwind, chill, maybe take a shower to just stand under the hot water and try to let some of the tension ease away, at least for a while. That would be nice. He would like that. Then he could get out of the shower, maybe pour himself a JB, watch the national news and by the time Justin walked through the door he would have gotten everything in perspective and have worked out a plan as to how to deal with the two men, Justin and Keith, being in the same city at the same time.
He took the stairs up to the loft, unlocked, slid the door open and found the loft in darkness. He was in luck. The light was blinking on the answering machine. Justin was sorry; he had to help hang some pictures at the student gallery. He'd be a couple of hours, but he'd be back by about eight. If Brian was hungry he should just go ahead and eat without him, otherwise they could order in when he arrived, either was fine. Later.
He took off his coat, his suit jacket, his tie, his shoes and up in the bedroom, removed everything else. The shower was good, it felt good. He stood under the spry, turned the needle fine jets and let his mind go as blank as it ever did. Half an hour later when the hot water had finally given out, he felt a bit better.
He put his robe on, the thick terry one, poured himself the JB he'd been wanting and sat down with Peter Jennings and the news. Half way through the phone rang.
Damnit.
"Yes?"
"Bri? Is this a bad time?"
"Keith—no, I'm just watching the news. Is there a change of plans?" Please say you're cancelled.
"I managed to clear my schedule for tomorrow so I'll be there about dinner, if that's alright. Bob is headed to Boston again and I'm hitching a ride. That's not a problem, is it?"
Damnit. "No, of course not. Will you be coming into the same terminal I landed at last year?"
"That's right, terminal E. We should be there about four thirty. I know that puts us in rush hour traffic, but maybe we could stop for dinner or something, I guess it would be lunch for me, and wait it out."
"Whatever works, sure. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
"Great, I'll look forward to it."
They cut the connection. Damnit and shit and fuck and Goddamnit again. Brian knew that they didn't have four day's worth of business to discuss. They didn't have one day's worth or business to discuss. In fact, they could have handled it in about forty-five minutes over the phone and still have left time for small talk.
He was still sitting there, considering how he was going to deal with this when Justin slid the door open. He heard a coat being tossed on a chair, the messenger bag being dropped on the floor and the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood floor. Justin leaned over to kiss him on the mouth.
"You look like shit. Bad day?"
Perhaps Justin had absorbed a bit too much of his philosophy of honesty. "What makes you ask?"
"Right. Gardner pull some shit again?"
"A client is arriving tomorrow and I have to entertain him this weekend."
"Shit, Brian, we were going away this weekend."
"We'll go next weekend."
"…Shit." He gave Brian a look. "Who's the client?"
"Keith White."
After tossing Brian a filthy, unbelieving look, Justin turned on his heel, put his jacket back on and walked out, sliding the door closed behind him. That went well.
At two fifty-five the next morning Brian heard the door sliding open again, heard the alarm being set the sound of clothing being shed and dropped in a trail to the bed and felt the other side dip as Justin climbed in. "Are you sure he's coming, there's no one else who can deal with him?"
"Part of the contract is that I'm the contact person. I have to meet with him and even if he was willing to see someone else, Gardner won't be back for another week."
"Where will he be staying?"
"The Hilton."
"Not here?"
"Just fucking stop. This wasn't my idea. He's a client, he's my client and his company does over five million dollars worth of business with the agency. I have to see him so stop being a spoiled twat and deal with it."
"He's the client who gave you his business so that he could get back in your damn bed."
"You're in my damn bed."
"I thought it was our bed."
"…Jesus, spare me."
"Not a problem." Justin got up and if it was possible to flounce away when one was naked, he managed to do so. He spent the night on the couch, with neither of them getting much sleep.
The next morning Justin's snit seemed to have worked itself out and breakfast was reasonably calm. They showered, dressed and went off to their days with a minimum of trauma. Justin had a midterm in his required English class on Romeo and Juliet and Brian would be spending the day making sure that everything was ready for Keith when he arrived. The storyboards would be perfect. The copy brilliant and the dinner reservations guaranteed to make the client happy and leave him impressed—or that would be Gardner's hope at any rate.
Brian was wracking his brain to come up with things to do with him that would keep things personally neutral while professionally friendly.
Damn, he hated tightrope walking.
"Brian? What time is the plane supposed to land?" Gardner was standing in the door to his office—miraculously getting back early as soon as he heard that Brian was committed to the fucking meeting with Keith and he was off the fucking hook.
"Around four thirty. I was just about to leave."
"You're taking him out to dinner?"
"We have reservations at a steak place he used to like. His family went there a lot when we were kids."
"Excellent, he's in good hands. I'll see the two of you in the morning then." Vance was going to show up for the Saturday morning meeting? Fine. Whatever. Maybe Keith would switch his affections.
Like that was about to happen.
"He would probably appreciate you joining us for dinner one night."
"Yes, of course. I'll, uh, I'll let you know what I come up with. You might want to ask him what his preferences are."
Me, naked in his fucking bed. "I'll ask him."
Ninety minutes later Brian watched the small private jet taxi up to the terminal, saw the door open and saw Keith walk down the small flight of steps and come towards him, leather weekender bag over his shoulder.
"Brian, you're a sight for sore eyes. I'm glad you could make the time to come all the way out here just to get me."
He was a major client. Of course he'd meet him at the damn airport.
"Let me get that for you." Brian took the bag. "I thought your idea to stop for dinner sounded good. Tod's alright with you?"
"Oh God, I haven't been there since I was in college. I didn't even know they were still in business. This should be fun—do they still have the old Iron City signs up?"
"I think they're structural now. They take them down, the walls will come down with them."
Brian led them to where he'd parked the new jeep, loaded the bag in the back and they headed toward the restaurant they both remembered from when they were teenagers. On the way they detoured through the old neighborhoods, seeing the changes. Keith's old house had been doubled in size; the old high school had deteriorated badly. Keith was tactful enough not to ask to drive by the Kinney home but if they had he wouldn't have found much changed. Joan wasn't one to care all that much about plantings in the yard or any of that.
The conversation was neutral, general and Brian was becoming annoyed that he was being forced to play the game.
This had nothing to do with Multitech's account or their new campaign. Finally he'd had enough.
"You know that nothing has changed, Justin and I are still together."
"I know that." It was said matter of factly.
"So why did you come?"
"I own a business, you head my ad campaign. It's not complicated."
"Cut the bullshit. You and I both know there's no reason for us to meet face to face over some minor revisions. I don't appreciate your showing up here to make another play for me."
"You think that's what this is?"
"I know that's what this is."
They were in the parking lot of the restaurant. Given the early hour for dinner, there wasn't a crowd yet. They walked into the lobby, Brian gave his name for the reservation that they probably hadn't needed and were seated quickly, the hostess giving them both a once over. Both men were beauties, even if they were old for her. She had the waitress bring them their beers.
"Did you know you can get Iron City in the Valley now? I think some old C-MU guys got horny for it so made some deal with one of the distributors."
Brian was drinking Heineken. "Nerds have shitty taste."
"I didn't just come here to try to get your ass back in my bed." Brian stared at him, disbelief obvious in his look. "It's true. Alright, that was part of the reason. I wanted to see if you've made any decisions about us, but I wanted to see my grandmother. In fact I was going to drive out there tomorrow. I was hoping that you might want to join me. You know she liked you."
He hadn't really expected that. They had gone out to Gettysburg when they were first seeing each other back in high school to help her move some heavy furniture at her farm and had stayed over in her guest house. That was the night they'd first had sex. It had been the night Brian had really lost his virginity. He'd been fourteen years old, Keith seventeen.
It had been magical and he still thought about it now and then, just as anyone thinks about their first time once in a while.
"Is she alright?"
"Gram? She's fine. Slowing down, but fine. She broke her hip last year, but it's much better now. I think she moved down to the first floor so she wouldn't have to deal with the stairs." He stabbed a piece of tomato in his salad. "I thought that we could just take a nice drive out there, have a visit—nothing fancy."
Damnit. It was something he would almost like to do. He'd liked the old lady and he hadn't been out of the city, other than for business in months. Justin would shit, of course, but…
"This isn't a good idea."
"No funny business. I promise, Bri. Just a visit with my old white haired grandmother—what could be more innocent than that. You can even stay in the guest room. I'll take the room over the kitchen." He sipped his second beer. "Tell you what, we don't even have to stay over. We could leave early and drive back tomorrow night." That should make it easier." C'mon, Bri—you don't want me telling Vance you're ignoring me, do you?" Sure, he was kidding. Probably. And there wasn't much chance he'd pull the account, not until they got this squared between them, anyway.
Brian considered for a moment. This was a mistake, he could feel it, he knew it. He shouldn't do this. Fuck. He knew he shouldn't. Keith wanted a hell of a lot more than to just see his old granny and they both damn well knew it. Shit. He shouldn't do this. "If we come back tomorrow, OK."
"Deal. I'll pick you up tomorrow at, what?, say eight thirty?"
"You know where I live?"
"I know your address, I have a computer. I can find it—I did used to live around here, remember?" He gave Brian that smile that used to melt his knees.
Shit, he was in trouble. He knew it and he didn't care. Skipping desert, he dropped Keith back at his hotel and braced himself for Justin's drama queen moment when he found out that Brian would be spending the day with Keith reliving old times. With any luck, maybe he wouldn't ask.
"I can't fucking believe that you'd agree to do this. This is so fucking bogus and you know it. Jesus, Brian." Justin was in full sail. "The two of you taking a walk down memory lane together? Christ."
"You could come with us."
"I'm not even going to answer that—are you out of your fucking mind? Do you want his dick up your ass for old times sake? Is that what this is about? Is his Goddamned account so important that you'll fuck the CEO to make sure he re ups on the contract?"
"We're going to see his fucking grandmother."
"And when old granny is taking her nap what will you boys be doing?"
"I'm not fucking doing this with you—it's business."
"It's bullshit."
"So fucking come if your dick is in a knot over it."
"Not that you give a shit, but we were going to do things together this weekend, remember? Dinner over at Deb's and you told Lindsay that you'd take Gus on Sunday. Any of this sound familiar?"
Fuck me.
"Deb will understand and Lindsay will…"
"Lindsay will be pissed off at you for blowing off your son again and you fucking know it." He gave Brian a look. "And don't even ask. Fuck no. He's your son, he's your responsibility."
"I'll call them. You can come if you want, you're call."
"No it isn't. I told you that I have a design project that I have to get finished this weekend and you knew that, too, asshole."
"Fine, whatever."
"And fuck you, too."
Justin had stormed out, probably to Daphne's to lick his wounds and Brian, admitting some kind of defeat, made an early night of it—not that any of his friends would have believed it of him.
He was up by seven, showered and breakfasted when Keith rang the buzzer early at about quarter after eight. Justin hadn't deigned to make an appearance and Brian was damned if he'd leave some note like a fucking housewife off to do errands. He had his cel with him, if the twat wanted to talk to him; he could hit the speed dial.
They were in Steve's rented SUV, a load of flats of annuals in the back. When he had seen the look on Brian's face he had explained hat he'd promised his grandmother that he would bring the things and put them in the ground for her since she had trouble with kneeling and bending now. Brian didn't have to help if he didn't want to. It didn't matter. He could just talk with Gram or something.
The ride went smoothly. It was between two and three hours from Pittsburgh to Gettysburg and the roads were clear. They confined their conversation mostly to small talk; family chat and some talk about where they would like to see the new campaign for Multitech go in the next year or so.
The time went by quickly.
When they pulled into the yard Gran was sitting in a rocker on the porch waiting for them with a couple of cold beers and hugs for them both, swearing that they both looked exactly like they had in high school but that Brian had become even more handsome, just as she had thought that he would.
It was still early, only eleven when they had arrived so after the welcome the two men picked up the rakes and shovels and trowels that they needed to prepare the front gardens. Steve's grandmother…"Oh for goodness sake, call me Mary, Brian"…would take care of the pots and hanging planters while they did the harder work. The White's talked about family, how the move to Florida was going for Keith's parents, how sorry she was about the divorce but that she hadn't been surprised when she had heard. Of course Patty was a sweet girl, she just wasn't right for Keith.
An hour and a half later they were finished, the plants all in, including the vegetable garden Keith and Brian had put in by the back door while Mary had gone in to rest and make them some lunch.
By one or so they were done, Keith was in the bathroom getting cleaned up and Brian was in the Kitchen with Gram, as he still thought of her.
"I'm glad to see that you two boys are still friends, Brian. I was disappointed when I heard that you two had a falling out, you know. I always thought that you were good for each other."
"How so?"
She gave him a look like he was an idiot. "Don't play dumb, Brian, you're too smart and so am I. I know that you and Keith were 'friends' when you were here all those years ago, no matter how young you may have been at the time."
He looked at her, bemused. "You did? And you were alright with it?"
"Well, I did think that you were a bit young at the time, but I knew you were in good hands and it was obvious how Keith felt—and your feelings couldn't have been plainer if you'd sent me a letter." She was setting a selection of cold cuts on platters, along with bread and rolls and various garnishes.
She handed him another beer, putting a second bottle by Keith's place. They could hear Keith outside now, putting the tools away in the shed out back.
"So are you two back together now that he's over that silly marriage he got himself into?"
"Keith knows that I'm with someone else now."
"Then what in God's green earth are you doing here planting petunias?" She was standing over him with her hands on her hips. He had a vision of Debbie in full battle dress. "You know as well as I do that boy is still head over heels in love with you, don't you? You playing both ends of the game?"
He wasn't getting into this. He wasn't. "Keith and I are friends and my company handles his advertising. He's here to talk about the new campaign." He sipped his beer, hoping to end the subject. "We're just good friends."
"Goodness has nothing to do with it."
The screen door slammed in the mudroom. "Lunch ready? I'm starving?" Keith sat down, reaching for the ham.
After they were done eating Mary went to her room for her now daily afternoon nap. Keith and Brian went for a stroll through the property and beyond.
In the mid 1800'sGettysburg was a quiet little farm town that housed a small college, a seminary. Caught up in the Civil War as the site of a tide turning three day battle, it had never put that part of it's past behind it. Lincoln had made his Address there; it was a Mecca for history buffs and family outings. Other than adding too many tourists to the roads, it hadn't changed all that much. Most of the place, aside from the souvenir shops, were fields and old farmhouses surrounded by old stone walls
It was a nice day and warm. The tourists were out in full force wandering among the various monuments from the old battle. They passed the cannons and statues, the famous names—the Peach orchard, the bloody lane, the stand of trees. Neither of them paid much attention.
"Your grandmother thinks that we're getting back together."
"I told you, she likes you."
"And you told her that we're an item again?"
"No. I told her that we're still friends and that I hadn't given up hope."
"We had this conversation already. More than once. I'm with Justin, that isn't going to change any time soon."
"And I told you that I can wait."
Brian sat on a stonewall that they had been walking along side of. "Keith, fuck. We were lovers twenty years ago. I'm with someone else. Fucking move on."
"Then why did you come here with me? You can't miss my old granny that much."
OK, Keith was right, not that Brian would admit it. He was still intrigued by Keith and flattered that someone like him, his first love for shit's sake, was still pursuing him twenty years later.
Still beautiful, wealthy, accomplished, desired, intelligent, kind—he was fucking perfect.
And there had been idle moments when he had considered what would happen if he gave in…well, he had. He was human, Damnit. Who wouldn't when you came down to it?
Sure, he and Justin were together now and had been for a while now. They were even fairly happy most of the time. He—OK—he loved Justin, even though the words would likely never cross his lips. Justin loved him. Well, he probably did, anyway.
After the thing with Ethan and the reunification, as everyone now referred to it, he had wondered if it was a rebound thing for Justin. Sure, he knew Justin would deny it til he was blue in the face, but it had seemed pretty damn convenient to Brian when he had time to step back and look at the whole picture.
He hadn't been giving Justin what he thought he needed, he'd found someone else who hadn't worked out and in days, weeks, whatever—he was maneuvering Brian to take him back.
Oh sure, Brian had known what was going on. He'd known it the minute he saw the blond hair and the innocent look in the art department that day at Vanguard. He knew it later that day in his office when Justin had thought he'd gotten the best of Brian in their little by play. He knew it when he fired his ass and when he'd returned to tell Brian that he should take him back. And he knew it with the countless blowjobs and coy looks and premeditated interludes and concessions the boy had arranged.
The thing that Justin likely didn't believe was that Brian had been on to him from the start and had simply decided to let the boy play out his hand.
Sitting on the stonewall, Keith a few yards away reading some historical plaque, Brian wondered again about what was happening here.
He loved Justin, Justin probably loved him, though there were times when he suspected that he was also a trophy, something for Justin to attach himself to, a place to hang his hat, a final 'fuck you' to Ethan..
He had loved Keith with everything he had in him. At one time Keith had been his friend, lover, rescuer, mentor, big brother—he had been everything to Brian and now he wanted to pick up again where they had left off.
Even if he wanted to—and he wasn't convinced that he did—would there be a chance of it working?
Justin would be hurt, yes, but Justin was young and he would heal. Couples break up all the time.
The problem was that he and Keith, obviously, weren't the same people they had been. Brian wasn't a frightened adolescent and Keith wasn't his protector now. They could both more than take care of themselves. They would be equals this time and there was some part of Brian that suspected that Keith would defer to whatever Brian wanted. Well, within reason, anyway.
They didn't really know each other now.
Not really, not beyond the surface pleasantries and the manners and dance of business.
Jesus, he had loved Keith.
He looked over at Keith, wandering along the field, reading the markers. He was tall, handsome. His body was still toned. He was a striking looking man, almost as striking as Brian was, though in a more conventional white bread sort of way. He was as smart as Brian was, as smart as Justin. He was ambitious and successful, highly respected and well liked.
He had been a kind and gentle lover and he said he would wait for Brian to decide he was ready.
Was he in love with Brian or was it some kind of obsession? Was there much of a difference? Did it matter and could Brian be happy with it, whatever it was?
He had no idea.
Brian got up, made his way over to where Keith was looking at yet another monument. He turned and smiled when he saw Brian next to him. "I used to come out here all the time when I was a kid. After a hard rain or in spring when the snow melted we'd collect bullets that would wash out of the woods and sell them to the tourist shops. I think they paid us a nickel each. That was over a hundred years after the battle and there were so many bullets they were still washing down." He half smiled, embarrassed. "That used to amaze me, how many bullets were still around."
"We should get back."
Keith nodded. They walked the fields and paths mostly in silence, watching one another but not saying much. Each seemed caught up in his own thoughts. They got back to the farmhouse just about dark, the lights were on and Gram was in her rocker.
"Do you boys want some dinner before you head back?"
Keith looked at Brian; he nodded slightly along with a small shrug. It was fine and the old woman wanted the company. "That would be great. Do you want us to cook for you, give you a break?"
"The chicken went into the oven an hour ago." She knew Keith wanted a longer visit and she wanted to see if she could find out what was going on with these two. "In fact I was just about to go check on it. Keith? You could make the salad. Brian can set the table." It was not a request and he helped her inside.
"I'll be there is a minute." Brian waited until the door closed and he could hear them in the kitchen before he took out his phone.
He knew where this was leading. He was an expert at the seduction game and he could smell it a mile off. He also knew it would cause a butt load of problems he didn't want to deal with. He hit the number.
"Brian, how's it going? Enjoying your day in the country?" Sarcasm and snotty attitude dripped from every word.
"It's fine. We were about to have dinner."
"You're still there?"
No, we're at a fucking McDonald's. "For shit's sake, his fucking grandmother is cooking a fucking chicken."
"Sure it isn't sitting duck or did she just cook you goose?"
"Fuck you."
"And let me just guess what's for dessert."
"I'm not doing this with you, Justin."
"So why did you even call? You want my permission?"
"Sunshine, I don't need it." Pissed, he cut the connection.
Keith opened the front door. "Everything OK?"
"Fine."
"Dinner's ready. We can head back after we help her clean up, if that's good with you. We should be back by midnight or one."
He took a step towards Keith, put a finger on his cheek, drawing a line from ear to lips, ending with a small caress to his mouth. "It's been a long day—why don't we just stay over?"
"…That sounds like a better idea."
3/12/04
Title: New Campaign, Part 2
Author: Simon
Pairing: B/J/OC
Rating: PG-17
Summary: Brian's first love hasn't forgotten him
Warnings: Brian has sex with an OC
Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.
Archive: Moonshadow Tribe and ATP
Feedback: Hell, yes.
New Campaign is the sequel to both New Kid and New Account. This is the second, and last, part. The first part can be found at either Moonshadow (under the Lives of Brian series) or Bjfanfic under it's own title.
New Campaign
Part TwoDinner went well and despite his thoughts that it would be awkward or strained, Brian enjoyed the meal. He liked Keith's grandmother and liked hearing her stories about the history of the farm and the part it had played during the battle. He found out that there was a small cemetery on the property where some of the soldiers had been buried pretty much where they'd fallen because the Battle of Gettysburg had taken place in July back in 1863and the corpses didn't keep. There was a mass grave for a lot of horses that had been killed, too.
There were a couple of bullet holes in the outside walls and she was convinced that some of damage to one of the stonewalls in the cornfield was from cannon fire.
Gram—as she insisted he call her—told Brian that he was always welcomed here and she had been sorry that he and Keith hadn't been able to work out whatever had happened between them back when they were boys. She told them how happy she was to see that the two men were still friends and, with some hesitation, mentioned how worried she'd been about Brian after her son—Keith's father—had told her about his suspicions about Brian having been an abused child.
"Were you? Was it true?"
No one ever came out and asked. In his whole life, no one had. Sure, some people knew, but no one ever asked about it, not out loud like that. He was a little taken aback.
"Um, well, my father used to hit me sometimes."
She gave him a close look. "Sometimes everyday?"
He nodded just enough to see. He didn't like going there. Ever.
"…Well, that's over now. You've grown up just fine as far as I can see…all tall and handsome and Keith here tells me that you're one of the best at what you do. That right?"
"Well, I try."
"Just what is it that you do? He wasn't too clear about that."
"Gram…" Keith was trying to help.
"You weren't. So, what do you do, Brian?"
"I'm a partner in an ad agency."
"…And Keith hired you so you two could spend some time together. How lovely for you both. Of course if you mess up, he'll fire you. You do know that, don't you?"
"I don't think Brian's too worried about my firing him, are you Bri?"
"Not a whole lot, no. This chicken is really good, what did you do to it?" Dear God, let her change the subject.
"Killed it fresh this afternoon, it makes all the difference, don't you think?" Keith and Brian exchanged a smile. Gram was a hoot no matter how you sliced it. "So who was it you were telling that you're staying over was none of their damn business? You have someone waiting for you to come home to them?" She was staring at Brian.
"I'm single."
"That's not how it sounded to me. Are you two timing on someone with my grandson?"
"Gram let Brian have some privacy."
"When you two are planning a bit of mufky-fufky up over the garage later, I don't see why I should." The two men both actually blushed. "Well, you were, weren't you? We're all adults here."
"We hadn't really discussed it." Keith was clearing the table.
"You didn't have to, it's as plain as the noses on both your faces—just like that time you two came to visit me when you were both in high school."
Brian couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. "You knew?"
She gave him a long look. "Honey, it's nothing that hasn't been done before and nothing that won't be done again."
He finished his glass of iced tea, put it down and asked, "When did you know that Keith was gay?"
"Keith? Put the coffee on, if you don't mind. When did I know? When he was fifteen years old and I caught him out in the barn kissing the boy I hired to mow the lawn."
Keith almost dropped the coffee pot. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"What on earth would I say? I knew what you were doing and I knew that nothing I said would make you change or stop or any of that nonsense. I suppose you might as well know that I did tell your father, though."
"You told my father? Jesus, Gram—you could have said something to me first."
"Why would I do that? Besides, he already had figured it out. He never gave you any problems over it, did he? Your Mom knew about it, too, you know—they're not stupid, Keith. You did come by your brains honestly."
"Well, we never actually talked about it, it was just sort of assumed, I guess. It was just there without anyone having to mention it."
"That's why they never minded when Brian here stayed overnight at the house—they knew he was a sight safer with you than with his own family—excuse me, Brian, but that's the truth, you know."
He brought the coffee pot over to the table along with the mugs and cream and sugar. They all helped themselves to what they wanted.
"But—did my age bother you? I was fourteen that time we came here." This was getting weird, even for Brian.
"I knew you were young—you were only fourteen? Lord, I didn't realize that. I would have put my foot down if I'd known back then." She gave him a hard look. "You looked older, you know. I thought you were about Keith's age—which was still too young I might add, but I figured it was better that you two were safe over my garage than in some back alley or basement or someplace." She took a sip of her coffee, black and strong. "So you have someone at home, do you?"
Keith answered for him. "Brian lives with a young man. They've been together for a few years now."
"Single, are you? Then what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Keith asked if I'd like to see you again and I said that I would."
"And your young man doesn't mind?"
This was none of her business and was starting to piss Brian off. Christ. "Justin and I understand each other."
She gave him a hard look. "You do, huh? That's damn understanding of him." She saw the looks on the faces of the men. "Alright, I've said more than you wanted to hear but that doesn't change the fact that it needed to be said." She stood up. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll take the air out on the porch."
Keith looked at Brian. "So do you want to go back to Pittsburgh tonight?" It was up to him. Keith would go along with whatever decision Brian made. He smiled. "I won't pull my account—sales are up twelve percent since we started running your ads."
"So you would have renewed the contracts anyway?" Actually, Brian had assumed as much. He could read a spreadsheet as well as anyone.
Keith was laughing. "How stupid do you think I am? Of course I would have signed it. I may not make any secret that I want your fine bottom in my bed, but I also want my bottom line in the black and you're helping to keep it there."
"So…"
"So whether we spend the night together—in the biblical sense—is up to you and will have no professional repercussions."
Brian had pretty much thought that he and Keith would probably end up screwing one another, at least physically. He also had never really thought that it would make all that much difference one way or the other if they did or not. What he had said to Keith's grandmother was the truth, as far as he'd told her. He and Justin did have an understanding and Justin did know that there were no locks on the door.
Of course that didn't mean that the boy wouldn't be upset, hurt and queen out like a pro.
The front door screen slammed as Gram came back inside. "Too many bugs for me. I think I may have to get that porch screened in of I'm going to be able to keep using it this time of year." She saw the two men still where she had left them. "Well if it's this hard a decision, you should just forget the whole thing, if you want to know what I think about it."
"Excuse me, Gram?" Keith was torn between amusement and annoyance.
"You two have been dancing around one another since you got here—and I'll bet it's been going on a sight longer than that. This all started almost twenty years ago and it looks to me like you're both still making up your minds. If I were you, I'd get the fence post out of my backside and make up my mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. " She headed for the room converted on the main floor for her use. "One of us should."
They wished her a good night, Keith checking after a few minutes to see if she needed anything. She didn't, she was already asleep. He cleared the few dishes left on the table and turned back to Brian from the sink. "Well?"
What the hell. "That apartment still over the garage?"
"…You want to find out?"
"Can you think of any reason not to?" Other than having to deal with Justin's tantrums, Brian couldn't.
"Not if you can't." Keith held out his hand, not to hold, but to invite Brian out the back door. Turning off the kitchen light, the two of them walked across the yard and up the flight of stairs on the side of the three-car garage. The key was still over the light, the apartment hadn't seemed to have changed all that much and Brian wondered why the flying fuck he was doing this.
OK, there wasn't any real reason not to. Justin knew the score and so did he and Keith. He wasn't trying to recapture his youth—he knew that. He was, he was—he wanted to know— to know, he was trying to see if there really was anything left between them because God knew he had loved Keith with everything he'd had the first time around. If he hadn't, his heart wouldn't have been so badly broken that twenty years later he was still trying to deal with it.
The last year or so, with Keith hanging around the background—his e-mail on Brian's computer, his campaign on the light tables at work—had kept him in Brian's mind. Well, that was the point now, wasn't it? Fine, it had worked. Here they were, together.
And lets' not forget the trip Brian had been obligated to make to his headquarters in Silicon Valley, staying at Keith's house while being vetted by Keith's soon to be ex wife. That had been a surreal scene, even for Brian.
Christ, the man was nothing if not persistent and that was a damn fact.
Brian looked around the room where he had pretty much lost his virginity almost twenty years before. He'd been fourteen, scared to death but wanting it more than he's ever wanted anything in his life—well, other than maybe getting away from his family, of course.
He could still remember everything about that night, that whole weekend. What's the old saying? You never forget your first time?
It's true, you don't.
Good, bad or indifferent, you never forget your first time.
Keith had been his first love, his only love until Justin had come along and he had been the first person who had shown Brian kindness, made him believe that he might have some worth, that he wasn't a complete waste. He was also the first person who had let him believe that it was OK to be gay, that he wasn't a freak, that it wasn't something to be ashamed of and though it would be a while before he was ready to be open about it, Keith was the one who had taught him that he wasn't alone and that men could love each other.
And who hasn't wondered what it would be like to go back, to have their first love pursue them and still want them, want to turn the clock back and pick up the pieces again and start over…forget the mistakes and do it right this time?
Is there anyone who wouldn't like that if it was handed to them on a silver platter?
What was that other old saying? The one about how you can't go home again? Well, he'd never wanted to go home in the first place, but back to Keith, well, that was something he'd lulled himself to sleep with more times than he could count.
Every night he'd been in high school he had hugged his pillow, pretending it was Keith. Every trick he'd turned through high school and college there would be a flash of thinking, wishing, pretending that it was Keith's cock or Keith's mouth or Keith's hands. Finally that had faded, but it had only been the last year or so that had been true, maybe the last six months—maybe the last ten months or so— when he and Justin were finally really together. Even then there were times when his mind would wander, when he'd lose concentration and he'd have to think before using the wrong name.
Keith closed the door behind him, turning on the small light on the end table. Rummaging through the small fridge, he found a bottle of white wine and took a couple of glasses from the cabinet.
"Your grandmother always keeps chilled wine in this place?"
"I brought it up before we went for that walk. I was a boy scout, remember?"
"Be prepared?"
He smiled a small laugh, leaned forward just enough so that his mouth was on Brian's and kissed him the way they describe in the romance novels—tenderly, gently and with feeling. The kind of kiss that doesn't bother asking because the answer is a foregone conclusion.
The wine glasses were put down, the two men walked, holding hands, over to the queen sized bed along the wall. There was a skylight directly over it and almost twenty years ago Brian had looked at the stars while he and Keith had rested for a few minutes, when they were catching their breath and had seen a shooting star go by above them, flaming across the small square of sky.
"When you see a shooting star make a wish, if you do it will come true."
"I'd always heard that it means a witch has died."
"Did you wish a witch was dead?"
"…Only my mother." Keith had laughed, rolling back on top of him and kissed any thoughts of mothers or witches away.
That had been when Brian was fourteen. That had been his first full night really alone with a lover and it was probably the first time in his life, in fact it was one of the only times in his life he had felt safe and loved and wanted. It had been, with no exceptions, the best night of his life.
Now they stood by the side of the bed, the moonlight coming through the skylight just as it had the last time they had been standing in this same spot. They had both been young then, inexperienced and frightened. Now they were none of those things. They both knew what they wanted, what they liked and what they didn't. There were few mysteries that sex held for either of them at this point and they were old enough to know that a night together could be whatever they wanted—everything or nothing or just a pleasant was to pass the time.
Keith's fingers moved down from where they had settled on Brian's shoulders, around to the front of his blue work shirt and began to undo the buttons, starting at the top near his throat and slowly, slowly, ever so slowly moving down, undoing the button between his breasts then down to the shirt button just below his sternum. His finger tip traced a line down the center of Brian's chest as he went, down to the next, opening Brian's abdomen to the night air, down to the button over his waist. Fingertips still tracing light, feather light lines on the smooth skin. Keith's hands moved to gently lay flat on the skin over Brian's ribs and halfway around his sides, his thumbs tracing circles up to his nipples, the now unfastened shirt hanging loose.
Keith's mouth hadn't left Brian's while this was happening, his tongue lightly, carefully, gently slid against just the tip of Brian's, their bodies moving closer together.
Brian's hands were under Keith's long sleeved tee, moving up and down the muscles along his spine, holding, caressing as they went. Taking the hem in both hands, he lifted the shirt over Keith's head, the long series of long and deepening kisses broken for moments then resumed almost immediately as the shirt fell to the floor. Brian's own shirt joined it seconds later and the two men stood, arms wrapped around one another, feeling the warmth of skin against skin.
It wasn't just a fuck. There had been too much history together for that. They knew each other too well, they had meant far too much to one another for that and there were too many unresolved issues between them for this to simply be sex.
Keith kissed Brian's mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, his throat, his neck.
Brian let his hands roam over Keith's skin, up to his shoulders, to his neck, up into the thick blond hair and back down the long muscles to where the waistband of Keith's Levis got in the way. Sliding his hands around to the front, Brian's hands met Keith's as they unbuttoned and then unzipped one another's jeans. Pushing them down for one another, along with underwear, they stood less than a foot apart, naked, their hands resting lightly on one another's waists.
They moved back together, touching from knees to chests, taking the time to feel one another.
Keith's leaned forward, his face now against Brian's neck, kissing up to his ear and whispered almost inaudibly "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Brian's answer was to pull them both down to the mattress, Brian rolled on top of Keith. When they'd last been here, Brian had been frightened and unsure. Now he was confident and experienced. He knew what he wanted as well as Keith did. His hands framed, held Keith's face, bracketing it as the two men kissed with increasing passion.
They could feel the familiar desire, feel their cocks rub against one another, feel and hear their breathing get deeper.
Their hands stroked one another, Keith's legs slid apart, allowing Brian a safe haven—one he had dreamed about for over fifteen years. Even as he opened the tube of lube Keith had produced from the nightstand and performed the courtesy of preparing Keith for entry, Brian's mind noted the differences between Keith and Justin.
In his life there had only been two men who had mattered to him. With the thousands of men he'd had, only these two were of any importance.
He pressed inside; hearing Keith's moan of mixed pain and pleasure and paused to allow the moments it would take for him to adjust. Unconsciously he made the comparison. Keith was taller, thinner, his muscles harder than Justin's. He was tighter, probably not as active as he and Justin were. He seemed to almost be, what? He seemed to almost be grateful to have Brian alone, to have Brian inside of him. Justin had passed that phase at least a year ago when they had begun to relate to one another on a more equal footing.
He began moving, slowly, watching, almost in a detached way, the changing expressions on Keith's face—pain, joy, anticipation, a flicker of trepidation, a quick look of hope and longing.
Keith wanted this to be the beginning, a new beginning for them. Brian knew that and even as he used the movements that he knew would make Keith feel him and prologue what they were doing, he was mentally marking off the differences. Justin would be clenching his back by now, encouraging him with his hips and his mouth to move faster or slower, to push harder or at a different angle.
Keith seemed to just revel in the fact that they were there together.
Justin would be getting close to what Brian thought of as his frenzy, he would be calling out to Brian, wanting more. He would be kissing, licking Brian; he would sometimes scratch Brian's back when he got close, when he began to lose himself in what he was feeling.
Brian would always respond, matching his movements to what he knew Justin liked. Justin would come and then Brian would shift his attention to his own pleasure alone, letting the warmth and the need take control until he'd push over to those seconds when it all became pure selfish feeling, complete release.
He felt Keith's cum between them, felt himself moving into his own orgasm and vaguely noticed that after, as he lay collapsed on Keith's chest, their hearts pounding, that Keith was holding him in place and kissing the side of his neck, now slick with a sheen of sweat.
After a few minutes Brian started to move, he withdrew, removed the used condom and started to roll off to the side when Keith whispered, "No, stay." He settled back down, part of his weight taken by his arms as he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the contentment on Keith's face. "I like to feel us against one another when we're both soft. It seems even closer than actual sex."
It was something Brian hadn't thought about before, but Keith was right. Justin always liked that, too. So did he, now that he thought about it.
He rolled off anyway and the two of them settled into a spoon, Keith behind and with his arm around Brian's waist, holding them together, occasionally kissing the back of his neck. It wasn't that late, only around eleven, but Brian made himself sleep.
The next morning he woke to Keith's mouth on his. "Do you remember the last time we were here? You woke me up in the middle of the night by kissing me." He smiled down at Brian. "I still think about that." He kissed Brian again. "Do you?"
"No."
"No, you wouldn't, after what happened. God, Bri, I've felt so badly about that, how I treated you. We're over it now though, aren't we?"
Hell, sure. "We're over it."
"Good." Problem seemingly resolved, Keith kissed Brian again then swung his feet over the side, headed for the bathroom.
This wasn't bad, Keith was a good man and Brian even liked him. They had been friends, lovers and Brian had no objections to their being friends again but he didn't want this to continue. OK, the sex had been decent, but if you're in the middle of screwing one person and thinking about another it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.
Fine, alright, might as well just face facts. He got himself out of bed, dressing quickly while Keith finished in the small bathroom. Glancing at his watch, seven thirty. Keith came out, wearing just his boxers; Brian took his turn in the bathroom. Even as he heard the door latch it flashed through his mind to wonder why he had bothered. It wasn't as though he suffered from modesty or that they were strangers. After last night that thought could permanently put to rest. He realized that he just needed a minute to himself to recoup—half listening as Keith talked to him through the closed door.
"…I'll talk to Vance—there's no reason why you couldn't just open a West Coast office. You'd be great at that and then we could be together…I think we should get our own place, though, make a new start. You wouldn't want to just sort of fit in where Patty was—that wouldn't be right. I think a place that belongs to just us would be better…don't you agree, Bri?"
He opened the door, standing in the frame. "That's not going to happen. I think that this was a mistake."
Keith froze. "Bri?"
Shit, he didn't want to do this—Keith was a good guy, but this just wasn't going to happen. "This was a one shot deal. We tried it on for size, but I'm with Justin now. I want to stay with him."
"Then what the fuck was last night about?"
"Confirmation."
"The fuck you say."
"We were friends a long time ago. OK, we were lovers, but that was then and this is now."
Keith was a lot of things, but dumb wasn't one of them. It was over; this was just a one-night stand. He got it. "So what was this? Payback? Clinching the account? Assuring yourself of a fat bonus?"
"It was putting old ghosts to rest." Brian put his sneakers on, moved over to the door. "C'mon, you knew that this wasn't going to work." From the look on Keith's face, it was obvious that he knew no such thing—or if he did, he chose to ignore it. "What? Did you really think that one roll in the hay and we'd ride off into the sunset together? What fucking lesbian planet have you been living on?" It was working, Keith got it. Finally. Good. "I'm going across to the main house. I'll see you there."
Breakfast with Keith's grandmother was strained. They were polite with one another for her sake but it was obvious to the old lady that whatever had gone on over the garage last night wasn't what Keith had hoped for. Brian, on the other seemed fine, if slightly subdued. It also seemed that Keith's grandmother knew that whatever had gone on between the two men last night had broken Keith's heart. Brian, on the other hand seemed fine. Clearly he was the one who inflicted the break this time, not the other way around. She wondered if Brian had decided to twist the knife a bit.
They finished their food, packed what little they had into the trunk and, thanking her, kissing her cheek, they were gone headed back to Pittsburgh. Keith promised to call her soon, Brian was noncommittal.
The drive was silent, neither really having much to say. Keith wasn't about to beg like some slavering puppy and Brian knew whatever he might come up with wouldn't be what Keith wanted to hear. Brian spent most of the two plus hours looking out the window and mentally planning the new campaign for that British company that would be opening a string of overpriced hair salons and the attendant product line. Keith concentrated on the road. They didn't say much until Keith stopped the car at the Loft.
"This won't affect my account with Vanguard. You're doing a good job and there's no reason to be stupid about that side of things."
Brian just nodded and let himself out. Keith popped the trunk; Brian pulled his small bag out and slung it over his shoulder. He knew that what had happened wouldn't be a problem as far as the business side of things went. He was too damn good at what he did for Keith to jeopardize his company in any way and Brian's ads were working.
Keith drove on, sad but not distraught. He had half suspected that something like this might happen. He'd hoped—dreamed for more, but it was apparent that either Brian still harbored resentments about what had happened back in high school or he really was in love with the young blond. Either way, this wouldn't happen, not now, not any time soon.
He would keep his account with Vanguard, move with him if Brian changed agencies. He would stay in touch, but he knew there was no point in pushing.
The other two men seemed solid now and God knew that when Brian gave his loyalty it was something you could stake your life on, but the youngster—Justin—was so damn young. A lot could happen in the next few years.
In fact, a lot probably would happen in the next few years.
Last night had proved that they still had chemistry, that they still had feelings for one another. He would bide his time.
Brian let himself into the loft. It was empty, no note, but then he hadn't expected one, not with the way Justin had felt when he'd left.
He decided not to waste time hanging around, he knew there were no clients he'd have to deal with today so, fuck it, he'd get some work done. He went downtown to the office. No way in Hell was he going to let the twat think he'd been sitting around wondering where he was or any of that lesbianic shit.
In fact, he stayed at the office till past nine at night, stopping to pick up Chinese on the way back home. He hadn't heard from Keith, but then he hadn't really expected to—at least not yet.
By eleven he'd watched the late news with the sound off. By midnight he'd showered and gone through a quarter of a bottle of Beam. By one he was in bed not reading a book he'd propped up and by two he was damned if he was going to make a call. At five to three the door slid open. Justin was back and none too steady on his fairy feet. Daphne had brought him home, said nothing, gave Brian a dirty look and left.
Justin made his way up to the bed, stripped off with no ceremony and half fell and half crawled into his own side.
"You do what you had to?" He'd seen that Brian was awake, just hadn't said anything yet.
"Yes."
"You done now?"
"Yes."
Justin rolled over; kissed Brian's cheek and settled in against the larger man, in full snuggle position.
"About fucking time."
"…That's it?"
"What did you expect?"
"Tantrums, trauma, histrionics."
"Did you get it settled between you and Keith?"
"Yes."
Justin settled back down, shifting the pillow to a slightly more comfortable position for him. "Well…OK."
They both relaxed into sleep.
That was it.
For now.
4/26/04
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