SAVORY SAVIOR (The night when Justin & Brian reunite at Vanguard)
'Holy Shit!' yeah, that about sums it up. Sunshine sure knows how to blindside me like a fucking freight train. My mind scrolled through my vast array of masks, though he left no time for me to paste one on. Left no time for me to adjust my body to display my patented 'I don't give a fuck' attitude. He was just there. In the one place I was safe. The emotion free sanctuary where I don't have to feel shit I don't want to. My one and only 'Justin free zone'. Vanguard.
I quickly threw reference to my Grammar school language class. I had the 'who', 'where', 'when, and the 'how' (How? This was him. He's always making me believe the unbelievable.) I was none too eager to discover the 'what' (the fuck was he doing here?) or the 'why' (was he torturing me?). I guess if I'm honest I knew the answer to both.
I could tell instantly by reading his eyes. My favorite piece of literature. He was there for me. Mr. Taylor gets what Mr. Taylor wants. Ugh, and that "Mr. Kinney" shit that kept falling from his lips made me hard so fast it had to be a record. This blonde is going to be the death of me.
I can't say I wasn't (that I'm still not) elated that the mighty fiddler has fallen. That was pretty evident the other night in the backroom of Babylon. I stood there unmoving, just drinking in his face and his smooth deliciously pale skin. I was mesmerized by the way his hips OH GOD those hips were thrusting in and out of the nameless trick.
The darkening blue irises melting into my own gaze, told me all I needed to know. He wasn't thinking about Ethan. He wasn't even thinking about the ass currently surrounding his cock. He was thinking about the same thing I was. Us. Together. 'Us' yeah, I can definitely get used to the sound of that. Kinney you goddamn lesbian.
'Eternities aren't as long as they used to be' he told me so matter-of-factly. I almost felt a twinge of something. Guilt? Pain? I don't know but I didn't like how easily he'd dismissed it. (Maybe I want for him to still want an eternity with me.) Like I said, I don't know.
I am so fucking glad that Ian's promises turned out to be as flimsy as that cheap ring he placed around Justin's finger. It never looked good. Not there. Hell, it could've been a diamond encrusted Harry Winston and It still would've tainted his slender hand.
What Kinney? You want to get him a ring from you? Fuck. No. I don't know. No. No. Fuck No! I'm just relived as shit that his finger's bare again. No longer displaying the smooth metal of my mistake.
Admittedly I sensed a discord in the sickening symphony of Justin and the Ian a while ago; when I saw him drinking alone at Woody's. I can't even begin to describe the emotions I had brewing in me at that moment.
I wanted to yell at him…I wanted to tell him 'I told you so'…I wanted to smack some fucking sense into him…I wanted to fuck all of the sense out of him…but mostly I just hated to see him so goddamn sad. Not that I'd have told him that.
I was perfectly fine going back to being on my own. No Justin to rearrange my life. Yes. Perfectly content to drink , snort, smoke, and fuck whatever and whoever I wanted.
My mind flashes briefly to the one time I've ever paid for sex. The trick that I hired to do exactly that. Trick myself into believing the impossible. Stop. Ugh I shake the vision away.
Where was I? Yes, I was perfectly happy…as long as I thought he was happy too. I didn't deserve him.
I tried, really tried to keep my composure about the whole situation. He was more than entitled to live his life through his own choices (I wanted one of those choices to be me).I tried to make everyone else see that too, especially Mikey. Poor Mikey, but his skinny ass deserved that punch. Fucking right. I'm sorry. No, I'm not. No apologies.
Though, I knew Justin was no longer my responsibility in any way, I couldn't help myself. I still felt the excruciating need to provide for him, to continue caring for my sonny boy.
That's why I insisted on paying for school. I lucked out that he's so damn independent. A contract in place really saved me from having to tell him (with feeling -shudder) that I intended to pay for it regardless. 'Business is Business'. He's my fucking business.
This is also why I gave him so many gracious tips at the diner, and the reason I offered him the poster job for the carnival. He was right. I had unlimited artists at my disposal. However, I didn't care if any of them kept their tight delicious tummies fed, to keep their cargo pants perfectly filled out. I didn't care if any of them could afford new art supplies, or their fucking intoxicating shampoo. No. He was my only option.
No matter how anyone interprets my actions, I tried to help the fucking fiddler too. I know Justin (& Ian though his opinion means abso-fuckin-lute shit to me) believe I was only trying to break them up with the whole contract business. I wasn't.
In honesty, I harbored no malicious intent in my actions (well OK maybe I harbored a little.) Mostly, I figured if this was the man lucky enough to have Justin at his side, he should be able to financially support him. 'Justin's expensive' Jen's words echo in my memory. I smile.
He should at the very fucking least be good goddamn proud to have sunshine beside him. There's nothing in this world that could make me pretend that Justin wasn't mine.
Christ. Isn't this some shit? Not too long ago I tried everything I could to let it be known he was not connected to me. Never again.
If the musician could give him everything he deserved that I'd refused him, what right did I have to interfere? It was the very least I owed my sunshine. Since I couldn't give him the wine and roses he wanted. I could give him to someone who would.
Of course, I've always known that the wine would eventually grow bitter, and the roses would wilt into a heap of broken dreams on the floor of Ian's shabby apartment.
A part of me wishes I had been wrong. A part of me wanted Justin to find everything he was looking for, everything he was so convinced he needed. Though, a bigger part of me is fucking glad I'm always right.
I knew he wasn't completely lost to me when he showed up at the loft with my bracelet. Justin Taylor knight in fucking shining armor strikes again! Christ. My own savory savior.
I'm not going to lie. When my asshole of a nephew showed his true 'Kinney genes', I had never been more scared in my life. A thousand of Ol' jack's punches couldn't match the pain I felt in the pit of my stomach over that. My bitch sister and her fucking brat could've ruined my life. I guess I can't expect much else, seeing as how their cheerleader was the most hypocritical bitch on earth. Saint Joan, my loving mommy dearest. Christ. How did I come from this family?
Thankfully (more thankful than I could ever say) the mess was over before it really began. Thanks to him. I hurt him repeatedly, I made him feel worthless and unloved. Yet here he was at my doorstep... per usual. Like a goddamn stray puppy that you feed once and he never goes away. I didn't want him to go away.
In fact I had wanted him to stay more than ever before. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn't find the breath. Hell, I may have not even been breathing. His delicate fingers retied my bracelet around my wrist. Fuck. Just that slight touch of fingertip to pulse point sent me reeling. It was the first intimate touch I'd felt in months. Sure, I'd fucked and sucked more than my share, but none of those felt like that. None of those touches were his.
No more 'little boy lost'. He wanted me back. I was certain. Certainty oozed from his ragged breaths, his shaking hands, and his inability to hold my gaze for too long.
I presented my door as an open invitation. I knew he wouldn't take it (though I had still hoped) but I wanted him to know it was there. That I was there. Yes. I knew then that tonight was on it's way. It's good to always be right.
"Mr. Kinney" God, I'm hard now just thinking about it. Seeing him in my office doorway made me downright giddy. This was it. Months of waiting, months of hoping, months of dreaming. He was back. Once again he was going to be mine. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to reach across the desk and ravish him. This was his moment. This was him coming to me. Achingly hard or not, I wanted to relish in it for as long as physically possible.
This little stunt at Vanguard was really something. Something impressive, something so 'kinney-esque'. I'm fucking proud of the little shit. I listened to his words and tried my best to focus on my own part of the conversation. It was difficult to think of anything but tasting his lips as he spoke. My mind and my cock were twitching like a tweaked out twink.
Finally, we were together again. We were 'Us'. We were 'Us' four times in my office, before he came back to loft and we were 'Us' twice more.
Now, I lay here listening to his soft snores, and contented breaths. I realize how quiet my nights were without those soft sounds. How empty the loft was, how big the bed felt. Yes. Justin Taylor knight in fucking shining armor. My savior continues to rescue me.
Saving me from having to watch him with someone else. Saving me from missing his everything. Saving me from having to ever tell him I'm so fucking glad he's back.