A couple of hours after Justin left, Mikey called. "I'm so psyched about this weekend! I think everyone on Liberty is though."
"Why?"
"Uh, cause Brian-Fucking Kinney's coming back to town. I bet you'll do a lot of cumming, too, with all the tricks you'll be fucking. You better not blow my party off! I'd never forgive you if you went to an orgy instead."
"I'll be at your party. Relax."
"So when are you flying in? Should I pick you up?"
Silence.
"Brian?"
"No…I'm…uh…renting a car."
A little forlornly, Mikey replied, "Oh ok."
"I'll call you later."
"Bye, Brian!"
Brian placed the phone back onto the receiver and sighed. Mikey didn't know "New York Brian," only "Pittsburgh Brian." Pittsburgh Brian had spent the bulk of his free time trawling baths, back rooms, and even chat rooms for tricks. He was always looking for an interesting and/or challenging conquest, something that would make a good story over coffee at the diner. Pittsburgh Brian lived for the awe in Mikey's eyes every time he outdid himself. Mikey was Brian's original fanboy.
New York Brian was a little different. In New York, there was no one locus of gay culture like in the Pitts, not one contained in a couple of city blocks anyway. And, of course, New York Brian didn't meet Mikey for breakfast every morning, regaling him with sexual anecdotes. In a sea too big even for Brian-Fucking-Kinney and without his most loyal devotee, New York Brian tricked only to sate his sexual appetite. Brian had always had a keen desire nature, but his vanity was even more powerful. That, more than anything else, had fueled his libido back in the Pitts. Add to that the stress of working at such a big firm, one with international clients and at least fifty people just like him, who'd been the best ad people in their hometowns, and you got a very tired Brian. The pressure the gang inadvertently placed on him to maintain his reputation as an advertising dynamo and the difficulty of actually being one, doing work that caused him to stand out at King & York, made tricking as frequently as Brian had done back in the Pitts impossible in New York.
Brian hated to admit it, but getting a boyfriend was smart career wise (most nights, he stayed at the office late, sometimes until 10 or 11pm). It would save him the hassle of showering, changing, and styling his hair…taking a cab to the East Village, and then searching for someone (or a couple someones) more than passable to fuck. All told, the endeavor took 4 hours and all for 30 minutes of fucking and getting sucked off. New York Brian, more than he cared to admit, preferred to spend that 4 hours sleeping. Friday and Saturday nights were a little better, but Brian invariably brought work home with him to do over the weekend and usually had sleep to catch up on. Brian rarely tricked at the office. He worked too hard to potentially lose everything for a quick fuck in the bathroom.
New York Brian hardly ever brought tricks home (or invited them over after chatting online). He'd done that a lot the first year…and he'd had a string of very bad luck. One trick had stolen a 3,000 dollar humidor on his way out (Brian had made the mistake of going to piss after dismissing the guy). One had ended up being on PCP and had freaked out, shattering the glass top of Brian's Mies van der Rohe table and his bathroom mirror, breaking a couple of legs on one of his dining room chairs, trying to jump out the window, and then puking on his old bearskin rug. Yet another had decided that he wanted to top Brian. When Brian had told him to fuck off, the trick got violent. Brian managed to eject the guy, but not before getting punched. Brian had had to use some of his personal days to prevent his bosses and coworkers from seeing the black eye, and, in so doing, he'd missed out on an important account. Brian's closest competitor had gotten a hefty raise as a result.
The sex was almost never good enough to merit that. Brian was actually kind of looking forward to having someone he regularly fucked. He could put in a good 2 hours of fucking and sucking and still get 7 hours of sleep…and indulge in a morning fuck the next day. New York Brian was a far cry from what Pittsburgh Brian had been (in terms of sexual conquests), but the former made much, much better money, owned a bigger loft, wrangled higher profile clients, and, as a result of his highly competitive work environment, had won a shelf-full of Clios (not all gold, but still). Sometimes Brian wondered whether what he'd achieved in the past two years was worth the enormous effort required and the hole leaving his surrogate family, his friends, and his son behind had caused (making friends had never been easy for Brian and doing so was even harder in New York, especially with his work schedule), but returning to the Pitts, especially so soon after leaving, would have seemed like a step backward, like a failure to Brian, and Brian Kinney didn't fail.
Brian would never admit this, even under pain of torture, but Justin was the one bright spot in Brian's otherwise bleak existence. Yes, in New York, Brian had been achieving more than he ever could back home and Deb, Lindsay, and Mikey could never praise him enough, but…he was kind of lonely. In the Pitts, half the time, Brian had felt burdened by Sunday dinners, birthday parties, and the like. He'd never realized the value of the companionship the gang had provided him…not until he was completely free of 'obligations.' These days, he often wished Lindsay or Mikey would just show up and drag him somewhere boring. Yes, Brian acknowledged, Justin offered him a lot. Much more than steady sex with someone hot who wasn't a thief, drug addict, or thug. Justin was someone Brian could talk to…someone who made him laugh…someone who (despite the short time they'd known each other) cared about him. Someone who was a little in awe of him. Someone Brian could respect, despite his young age. And even someone Brian could relate to. They'd both suffered. They'd both survived and now they were both thriving.
Despite Brian's begrudging acknowledgement (to himself at least) that Justin's being Brian's boyfriend was a positive change, he wasn't sure he was ready for New York Brian and Pittsburgh Brian to collide. Brian may no longer be the stud of Liberty Avenue, but the gang, particularly Mikey, still regarded him as such. Being something less than he once was (at least in one aspect of his life) was bad enough. But for Mikey and Lindsay to see it…that was something else altogether.
Without warning, Brian's office door swung open. A grinning Cynthia entered. "Have you asked Justin about the weekend trip yet?"
In a rasp, Brian replied, "No."
"Should I get him on the phone?"
Suddenly Brian couldn't breathe. He stood and ran his fingers through his hair. "This was a stupid idea. Forget it. I'll go by myself."
Unexpectedly, Justin walked into Brian's office then, his smile bright, his eyes twinkling. "Go where?"
Brian tried to change the subject. "What brings you back?"
"Oh. I forgot my bag."
That was when Cynthia made an executive decision (she'd vowed that someone was gonna get their Prince Charming around here..if it couldn't be her, it would be Brian). She smiled at Justin and said, "Brian's going to Pittsburgh to celebrate his best friend's birthday." She ignored the icy glare Brian shot her and soldiered on. "He got you a plane ticket." She grinned at Brian (who was still glaring) and departed then, closing the door behind her.
Justin had been looking at Cynthia the whole time, so he missed the glaring. In fact, he turned his head to watch her leave. He was in such shock that he continued to stare for a few moments after she'd disappeared. Then he whipped his head back around, his eyes wide and his smile even brighter. "You want me to go with you?"
Fuck. "I'd understand if you can't…if you have school projects to work on…"
"No! No. I can go."
Double fuck.
"Great."
Cynthia was so fired.
A/N: I'm sorry I didn't get to the good part yet...work has been insane and I wanted to get something posted...I'll post another part (by late tonight/tomorrow morning) before moving onto Little Ray.