Second Year

January

The New Year had started as well as anyone could hope a new year to start.

Justin and Brian had ended up spending Christmas and a couple of days with Justin's family at his grandparent's house on Long Island. Jennifer and Molly had been there, several groups of cousins and aunts and uncles and various old friends had stopped in. There had been an after Christmas party with around thirty people, mostly neighbors and the like, all meeting Brian for the first time and many of them just learning that Justin's spouse was male.

No one seemed shocked, no one in any way criticized and everyone offered them best wishes and were curious to meet Brian. What was said after the guests went home was anyone's guess.

They had been married almost exactly one year and it hadn't all been smooth sailing. They had fought and argued, there had been days when neither of them would have given good odds of them seeing in the next few months together, but they'd done it. There had been problems, serious ones, and they weren't all solved, but they were aware of them and both men were determined to make things work.

They were.

Brian had cancelled meeting he'd been attending in California so that he could fly east for the holidays with Justin, surprising him with his arrival after midnight on Christmas morning. The rest of the visit had been good. They were happy to be together and the others seemed happy just to see them being content with one another, affectionate, teasing and joking.

All the world loves a lover and all of that.

Then one afternoon after lunch Justin's grandfather had closed his study door and told Brian that if he didn't slow down, get more rest, spend more time with Justin and just generally take time to smell the roses he'd end up in an early grave—he'd actually said that—and he was damned if he would let him leave Justin a widow at twenty-three. He'd gone on to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that if he didn't pay more attention to his marriage, he'd lose it.

Brian liked Bill, and he respected him, so after he'd sat by himself for an hour or so to let what he'd been told sink in he took it to heart.

He made a couple of calls and after dinner he had surprised Justin again. Less than twenty-four hours later they had left from New York to spend two weeks on a small Caribbean island named Nevis.

It was a small piece of paradise with private beaches, soft sand and palm trees along with a discrete staff. They had slept in late, tried the few restaurants available, explored the neighboring island of St. Kitts and completely relaxed, doing little more than sleep, eat, make love and swim.

It had been good. They had both needed the break and now they were headed back to Pittsburgh, Brian to his clients, Justin to class.

Business as usual.

The plane landed in a driving blizzard after weather delays. The temperature hovered around fifteen with the wind chill dropping it to minus ten. The cab skidded its way to the loft, which was cold and dark and there was no edible food. The power seemed to have gone out at some point while they were away and the smell of mildew was almost overwhelming from what had rotten in the fridge. All the clocks were blinking.

Welcome back to reality.

They turned up the heat, sprayed Lysol around, causing them to gag at the smell and opted to go out for dinner, hoping that the place would be thawed out and less noxious when they got back.

They walked into the diner, hoping for a quiet burger and knowing it would be a long shot as soon as they opened the door.

"You're back! Come and give me a hug!" Evidently, Deb was working the dinner shift. She smothered Justin and attempted to grab Brian as well, but he knew the moves and managed to get into the booth first. "You're both so tan—and I'll bet there not a single tan line between you."

God, Brian loved her more than his own mother—not a difficult thing to manage, but there were times when he wished she'd just stuff a fucking sock in it.

"Could we just get some food, Deb? It's been sort of a long day and we're hungry—OK?" Justin's smile was disarming, but he was running interference for Brian and they all knew it. He was tired and cranky and not in the mood for this. They had cut their decompression time for getting back to nothing so that they could have more time on the island, so there'd be no down time. Brian had to be at Vanguard at eight in the morning tomorrow and Justin had an eight-thirty class. Laundry and food shopping would have to be put off and they'd be hitting the ground running.

All they wanted was a quick dinner, back to the hopefully warm loft, shower and bed. Seeing the looks on both of their faces, Deb gave them a sympathetic smile and put a rush on their order. In an hour they were back at the slightly warmer loft. At six thirty tomorrow morning the race would begin again. They set the clock on the bed stand and simply went to sleep.

When Justin woke up the loft had that particular quiet that tells you that you're alone. It was dead silent, not even a clock ticking, Brian was probably long gone and he'd probably overslept, Damnit. He looked over at the clock, the one they'd set the night before. Ten-thirty. Shit. He'd missed his first class and half of the second one too and he wasn't even out of bed yet.

Throwing clothes on, brushing his teeth really fast and skipping breakfast, he literally skidded into his third class of the day, design concepts, fifteen minutes late.

"Ah, Mr. Taylor, good of you to join us this morning. I take it married life is treating you well, is it?" The class snickered at the insinuation while Justin stewed. Shit.

Welcome back.

A few hours earlier and across town Brian was elbow deep in the Supercuts account. Like he'd ever walk through the door of a chain that specialized in twelve-dollar haircuts with no appointments. God, the things he did for money.

"Brian, you're here early. Good to have you back." Vance was standing in his office doorway. It was just before seven AM and he'd decided to get there earlier than usual to find out what he'd missed over the last two weeks. It was a lot. "You'll be sitting in at the Kimberly-Clark meeting at nine, I assume?"

"I saw it on the schedule. I can be there if you want."

"Yes, good. And Leo Brown called while you were away. He'd appreciate you're joining him for lunch tomorrow. I believe he said that he'd be in Mexico City—something about cheaper labor negotiations. Your girl has the information and should have your ticket." He turned to go. "Oh I almost forgot, there's a dinner meeting you might want to be in on, as well this evening. We're pitching a new campaign to a tire company; one I believe that Marty Ryder pitched a year or two ago. The owner asked for you particularly. That's been scheduled for seven." He was gone.

Mexico? Jesus. And dinner with that asshole he'd walked out on, the one who'd wanted his ass in bed in exchange for the damn account? What was that about?

Welcome back.

At nine Cynthia handed him a cup of coffee, the way he liked it, black and extra sweet, then sat down to go over the week with him. It would be a bear. He had meetings scheduled up the wazoo, new pitches, new clients, old clients, dinners, lunches, two breakfasts and a one-day trip to Mexico. He almost didn't care what Vance was paying him, this was nuts.

Marvin Telson the tire king? Christ.

He hit the intercom, Cynthia answered in about five seconds. "Yes?"

"What does my schedule look like for next week?"

She brought it in. It made this week look light. She didn't say anything, just shook her head.

"What does his schedule look like."? He meant Vance. They both knew he meant Vance.

"It's heavy."

Something was going on. This was insane even by Gardner's standards.

"What about the ad execs?"

"Everyone is booked solid."

He nodded, she was dismissed. Something was going on, something that Vance hadn't mentioned to him yet and which would probably blow up.

He plowed through the day, one step at a time. It was steady with no break, the breakfast meeting almost ran into the lunch meeting which ran over to the two o'clock and by five he was both tired and hungry. With any luck he would be able to get back to the loft for an hour of down time, maybe a quick shower or something before the last round of the day.

No such luck.

"Brian? Could you take a look at the numbers for Telson Tires? I'm not sure about the print budget because he insists on sponsoring that racing team and that's a foryune right there."

"…Sure, bring them to my office." Shit.

At ten to seven he and Vance were seated at the chosen restaurant, a French place downtown on the fortieth floor of one of the towers and a view down the three rivers. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't called Justin. OK, the kid would know he was working, but there was no point in holding his own dinner because Brian was trapped. He pulled out his cel.

"Hey."

"Hey, where are you?"

"Dinner meeting. I'll be a couple of hours yet."

"That sucks. Anything interesting?"

"Not even close. Later."

"Later."

He snapped the phone closed, Vance looking at him. "You're a good—spouse. I suspect that you're better at it than I was."

"What makes you say that?"

"You remembered to call. I never did." He sipped from his water glass. "So what can you tell me about our Mr. Telson?"

He likes dick? "He's a tough SOB who isn't about playing us against the competition. He'll have a private agenda which he won't tell us and we probably won't get the account."

"So we're wasting our time?"

"That would be my guess."

"…Well, with any luck the meat will b tender." Brian managed to hide his smirk, barely.

"Brian, it's nice to see you again, I'd know you anywhere." They stood to shake hands all around before sitting back down.

"Marvin, I'll bet you haven't changed."

"You're know me too well."

"Maybe. Marvin, this is my partner, Gardner Vance, Gardner, Marvin Telson."

Vance pulled his most sincere smile. "Mr. Telson, it's a pleasure. What are you drinking?"

The dinner moved along like a hundred business dinners they'd all attended. It seemed, if they were to believe Marvin, that he was unhappy with his current agency and was looking for a change. He had remembered how good Ryder had been a couple pf years ago, how impressed he'd been with their ideas and thought that they would be a good place to start his search and if they had what he was looking for, well, they could all talk about that when the time came.

"If you don't mind my asking, what made you decide to go with Jenkins two years ago? Weren't the ideas you were shown to your liking?"

"I thought that they were excellent, Mr. Vance and I was quite impressed with Brian here, but …" He seemed to falter just a bit, as though unsure how much to say. He looked at Brian for help.

"Marvin had a family emergency and had to leave suddenly. How is your daughter doing now?"

"Fully recovered, thanks. You were right, she did need me to be there." He turned his attention to Gardner. "I was going to stay and finish what Brian and had been discussing when I got a call that my daughter had broken her arm. Brian was the one who insisted that I should go back right then. It saved a lot of problems for me."

"I'm sure it did." Brian produced an almost genuine smile.

"Well, anyway, I was distracted by her injury and had my vice president make the decision about which agency to go with. I think he made a mistake and I'd like to correct it."

"Excellent. Brian, I believe that we have time with Mr. Telson in the morning to go over our new thoughts for him. You'll be there, of course?"

"I'm flying to Mexico tonight, Gardner, remember?" His flight was midnight, what a pain in the ass. "I'm sure that you can show Marvin what we had in mind." Whatever the fuck it was—it had been planned while Brian was away.

Marvin stared hard at him. "Vacation, Brian? And I couldn't help but notice that you're wearing a wedding ring. I never thought that you'd take the plunge."

"It surprised me too, Marvin. But, no, this is a business meeting with another client. I'm just going for the day."

"In that case I'd be happy to wait for you t get back. I have things to do in this area and we could just push the meeting back to Wednesday."

"That would be fine, Brian?" Vance was looking for confirmation and Brian knew the fucking account rested on whether or not Marvin would be able to suck him off.

"There's no reason for you to have to hang around, Gardner is actually more experienced than I am in this sort of campaign"—Gardner thought his teeth would fall out at that remark—"and he'll do well by you. We can talk in a couple of weeks when it's more formed up, if you'd like."

Without making a show he wasn't willing to make, Marvin had no real choice other than to not hire them and he very much wanted them writing his ads. Much as it killed him, the damn agency was the best and if Kinney could be included in the deal, well, all the sweeter. Maybe they could hook up at some other meeting he could insist on later in the month. Damnit. And what was that about Kinney wearing a wedding ring? He was as queer as a three-dollar bill. Who the hell had he married?

Smiling, shaking hands, thanking them for dinner, Marvin left the restaurant, the concierge at the hotel was discrete and would have some ideas for him tonight.

Visibly relaxing, Brian and Vance had a last glass of wine at the table.

"What happened between the two of you that neither of you were willing to talk about?"

"Old Marvin wanted to suck me off but went back home to his injured daughter instead. That's why we didn't get the account two years ago."

"So why is he back?"

Brian smiled. "He can't forget me?"

Gardner was carefully placing his remaining silverware on his desert plate. "I don't particularly care how things were done when Marty Ryder owned the company, but you are to understand that this sort of thing is not part of my operating practices. Do I make myself clear?" He gave Brian one of his looks. "I shall deal with Mr. Telson."

"Why, Gardner. I had no idea you were concerned about the state of my virtue."

"I suspect I'm somewhat too late to worry there, however, you will do nothing to compromise the legal operation of my business and make no mistake about that." He glanced at his watch. "It's nine. If you hurry you may be able to kiss your young man good-bye until tomorrow. Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"I called Justin when I went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago. He's picking me up here to take me. I'll see you Wednesday morning."

"Right. Safe trip."

Justin was in the restaurant lobby when Brian walked out to get his coat, Vance beside him. They exchanged greetings and an apology to Justin that Brian would be working long hours for the foreseeable future. From the look on the youngster's face, he hadn't been told yet. Shit. The ride to Pittsburgh International would be a long one.

"You told me that you'd slow down. You promised, Brian."

"I will."

"You heard what my grandfather said. Even he's worried about the way you're working. Please."

"I will. I told you I will."

Ten miles went by in silence.

"Please, Brian."

"I will. I told you that."

"I don't want another year like last year."

"Justin—enough. I get back tomorrow at eight."

"I know. I'll be here."

They kissed as the car sat for a minute at the curb of international departures. "Good."

"Brian? Be careful."

Justin watched him walk into the terminal, carryon bag in hand, not looking back. The trip to Nevis had been so good, so had the holidays at his grandparents. They had been so happy just to be together and to have time with no distractions. No one was calling them, they didn't have to be anywhere, no one even hit on either one of them the whole time. It had been good, wonderful, almost perfect and he started to wonder if the feeling would last as long as Brian's tan.

They were back, back to work, back to school, back to business trips and not enough sleep or enough time together. He was back to being the little woman, Brian was—Brian. Justin knew that he intended to slow down, that he wanted to spend more time together. He also knew it was as likely as a snowball's in Hell.

Everyone kept telling him that Brian was doing it for him, that he was doing it for them, that he was building the foundation for their life and security and all of that shit.

Christ.

Was he the only one who knew that was all bullshit and that Brian didn't do anything he didn't want to?

He merged the car onto the highway, headed back to the loft. He had work to do and he needed sleep. Classes started tomorrow for him at eight-thirty again and he had to make it there tomorrow or he'd be screwed.

He had been such an ass last year, thinking that a ring and a license would magically make all the problems go away.

They didn't.

And they weren't getting better.