Mechanical Michelangelo part 23
TWENTY THREE Diva
Drowsily, Cameron fell out of bed and into a semi clean pair of boxers. Still pulling them up over his hips he padded through the living room, cursing under his breath as the cold hit his bare skin.
He opened the door and couldn’t help smirking at the well dressed man on the other side. He pointed a finger and tutted, standing aside to let his friend’s lover inside. “You never called me.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to.” Brian took off his coat, and folded it over the back of the chair, very much a guest. He looked uncomfortable and Cam couldn’t help but feel pleased over it.
“Justin’s at work.”
“I know.” His admittance didn’t get past Cameron and he felt his anger softening slightly, only slightly though.
“So, what do you want to know? If Justin infected me, if he could have infected you, why he messed up his hands?”
“We’ll start with the hands.” Brian sat down and Cameron sat opposite, tucking his feet underneath himself.
“When you have everyone from all directions telling you you’re not worth anything you start to believe it. Family don’t want you, boyfriend doesn’t want you,” Cam lifted an eyebrow, warning the other man not to be flippant about the boyfriend comment. “The city doesn’t want you, and the other people that are like you are too busy with their own problems to even thinking about wanting you, and the people that do want you, only want you for one thing.”
“What are you saying?”
Cameron rolled his eyes, and spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I’m saying, that, he started to believe it too, he wasn’t worth the air that he breathed, and what is more important than air to an artist? His hands. He didn’t deserve them, didn’t deserve the art they created and they weren’t doing anything to help him anyway, were they?”
Cameron reached down, feeling around the base of the chair for the bottle of Cola he’d left there the night before. “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, and Justin doesn’t blame you for it. If anyone is to blame it’s that mother of his for throwing out her kid. You don’t know how much anger he still feels over that, but he loves her, though I can’t see why.” Cameron shrugged, realising he was rambling a little too freely. “Can you understand why now?”
Brian leaned back, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, emotions churning in his stomach like the starting of a bad hangover. His own childhood hadn’t been a picnic, but he’d had Mikey, he’d had a refuge. What did Justin have, if he thought he couldn’t come home? Brian had never thought of it like that, he’d always thought Justin had been some stupid, stubborn kid who ran off to New York to play martyr and took it too far.
“I understand. He felt worthless, and that feeling didn’t come from the streets. “It came from him, Justin’s father and mother all planted the seeds to Justin’s breakdown. “And, did he infect you?”
Cam tipped his head back and laughed. “Is that what he told you?” He took a few gulps of Cola from the bottle. “Maybe, probably, fuck, who knows? And who cares. We were all taking risks out there every day, I could have had it before I met Justin, my immune system was shot to hell, whatever. He wouldn’t have put you at risk, Brian.” Cam was deadly serious now.
“I know, I just want to know how he could have been so careless…”
“It’s not like he got it because he was fucking without a condom, or one split, or he was doing drugs, this wasn’t about sex. When you take sex-ed at school no one mentions hepatitis and if they do, they don’t mention getting it from dirty guitar strings.” He leaned forward, eyes more serious than his laid back manner. “Do you know how hard it was for him to tell you about that?”
“He didn’t tell me, he gave me some fucked up demonstration.” Brian shuddered at the memory of Justin, so enthralled with that crude tattoo gun.
“And why did he do that? How would you tell a lover that didn’t believe in talking, only believed in actions? Could you sit down and have a heart to heart about it, or would you have to shock them into listening, show them through actions, what had happened? Make them listen…make them see?”
***
Justin flicked through the appointment book, glancing at the clock to see when his next client was due. He had five minutes to kill, and he took full advantage of them by making himself a strong cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette.
Steaming mug in hand, he walked over to the small waiting area and interrupted the one man there with his head buried in a magazine. “Fetch Dixon?” He asked and the man threw the magazine down, and screamed excitedly.
“Justin!” Emmett pulled the shocked blond into his arms. “It’s good to see you, baby.”
Justin laughed and hugged back. “You too, I had no idea…Fetch Dixon?”
Emmett nodded proudly. “My porn star name, you mean you’ve never heard of me?” He pouted slightly, but it was ruined by the huge smile plastered over his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You didn’t have to book in for a tattoo to do that.”
“I wanted to! Who else would I get to tattoo me, but you? Do you know how long I had to wait for this appointment? You are one popular twink.”
“I know,” Justin winked and pulled Emmett into a cubicle in the back room. “So you really want a tattoo? You’re positively sure? Because I don’t want you to regret it.”
“I do, I have an idea, I want, a little fairy dancing in a sea of flames, on my arm here.” He pulled up his sleeve and pointed to the top of his arm.
Justin raised an eyebrow, “You want me to tattoo boobs to your arm?”
“A male fairy? With a nine inch cock?”
“A cock that will just deflate as you age,” Justin said dryly, sliding a piece of paper across the small table and starting to sketch quickly. “How about something like this?”
Emmett stood up and peered over his shoulder. “Oh my god, that is so good,” Justin carried on drawing, changing the colour of his pencils as he went, tinting the page.
Flickering flames grew from the page, in soft oranges and yellows, the lighter yellow inside of the flame creating a subtle crown.
“This is it, the tattoo of my dreams. Thank you, baby.” He bent down and kissed Justin’s cheek.
“Take the picture home, if you like it in a couple of months, I’ll tattoo you, but you need to think about it.” Justin was adamant that Emmett not do anything on the spur of the moment, only to regret it later.
“Well, if you say so…”
“I do, it’s another excuse for you to come visit me. So, how long you in town?”
“Just the night, so, what’s a fag to do in a town like this?”
“I can show you the scenes,” Justin grinned, “So, need anywhere to stay?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“So, tell me about the Pitts, what’s happening, what’s everyone doing?”
“Well,” Emmett rubbed his hands together, glad to be gossiping. “I’m a fabulous party planner still. Mikey has his comic book store, but you already knew that. Brian is barely around, he’s busy getting Kinnetik off the ground and he’s off every weekend drumming up clients, the back room is bare, I tell you. You need to come home for another visit, now the air is cleared, we can catch up properly. We really did miss you, sweetie.”
Justin smiled, somewhat awkwardly. Emmett was a great guy, and he’d enjoyed spending time with him and the others when he first came out, but they weren’t his friends, they were Brian’s friends and he was the kid he liked to fuck on occasions.
“I missed you too, Em. Anyway, as you’re my last client of the day, we can head off now, take your stuff back to mine and we can get ready to party. We can go to Diva, you’ll love it.”
Drowsily, Cameron fell out of bed and into a semi clean pair of boxers. Still pulling them up over his hips he padded through the living room, cursing under his breath as the cold hit his bare skin.
He opened the door and couldn’t help smirking at the well dressed man on the other side. He pointed a finger and tutted, standing aside to let his friend’s lover inside. “You never called me.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to.” Brian took off his coat, and folded it over the back of the chair, very much a guest. He looked uncomfortable and Cam couldn’t help but feel pleased over it.
“Justin’s at work.”
“I know.” His admittance didn’t get past Cameron and he felt his anger softening slightly, only slightly though.
“So, what do you want to know? If Justin infected me, if he could have infected you, why he messed up his hands?”
“We’ll start with the hands.” Brian sat down and Cameron sat opposite, tucking his feet underneath himself.
“When you have everyone from all directions telling you you’re not worth anything you start to believe it. Family don’t want you, boyfriend doesn’t want you,” Cam lifted an eyebrow, warning the other man not to be flippant about the boyfriend comment. “The city doesn’t want you, and the other people that are like you are too busy with their own problems to even thinking about wanting you, and the people that do want you, only want you for one thing.”
“What are you saying?”
Cameron rolled his eyes, and spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I’m saying, that, he started to believe it too, he wasn’t worth the air that he breathed, and what is more important than air to an artist? His hands. He didn’t deserve them, didn’t deserve the art they created and they weren’t doing anything to help him anyway, were they?”
Cameron reached down, feeling around the base of the chair for the bottle of Cola he’d left there the night before. “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, and Justin doesn’t blame you for it. If anyone is to blame it’s that mother of his for throwing out her kid. You don’t know how much anger he still feels over that, but he loves her, though I can’t see why.” Cameron shrugged, realising he was rambling a little too freely. “Can you understand why now?”
Brian leaned back, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, emotions churning in his stomach like the starting of a bad hangover. His own childhood hadn’t been a picnic, but he’d had Mikey, he’d had a refuge. What did Justin have, if he thought he couldn’t come home? Brian had never thought of it like that, he’d always thought Justin had been some stupid, stubborn kid who ran off to New York to play martyr and took it too far.
“I understand. He felt worthless, and that feeling didn’t come from the streets. “It came from him, Justin’s father and mother all planted the seeds to Justin’s breakdown. “And, did he infect you?”
Cam tipped his head back and laughed. “Is that what he told you?” He took a few gulps of Cola from the bottle. “Maybe, probably, fuck, who knows? And who cares. We were all taking risks out there every day, I could have had it before I met Justin, my immune system was shot to hell, whatever. He wouldn’t have put you at risk, Brian.” Cam was deadly serious now.
“I know, I just want to know how he could have been so careless…”
“It’s not like he got it because he was fucking without a condom, or one split, or he was doing drugs, this wasn’t about sex. When you take sex-ed at school no one mentions hepatitis and if they do, they don’t mention getting it from dirty guitar strings.” He leaned forward, eyes more serious than his laid back manner. “Do you know how hard it was for him to tell you about that?”
“He didn’t tell me, he gave me some fucked up demonstration.” Brian shuddered at the memory of Justin, so enthralled with that crude tattoo gun.
“And why did he do that? How would you tell a lover that didn’t believe in talking, only believed in actions? Could you sit down and have a heart to heart about it, or would you have to shock them into listening, show them through actions, what had happened? Make them listen…make them see?”
***
Justin flicked through the appointment book, glancing at the clock to see when his next client was due. He had five minutes to kill, and he took full advantage of them by making himself a strong cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette.
Steaming mug in hand, he walked over to the small waiting area and interrupted the one man there with his head buried in a magazine. “Fetch Dixon?” He asked and the man threw the magazine down, and screamed excitedly.
“Justin!” Emmett pulled the shocked blond into his arms. “It’s good to see you, baby.”
Justin laughed and hugged back. “You too, I had no idea…Fetch Dixon?”
Emmett nodded proudly. “My porn star name, you mean you’ve never heard of me?” He pouted slightly, but it was ruined by the huge smile plastered over his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You didn’t have to book in for a tattoo to do that.”
“I wanted to! Who else would I get to tattoo me, but you? Do you know how long I had to wait for this appointment? You are one popular twink.”
“I know,” Justin winked and pulled Emmett into a cubicle in the back room. “So you really want a tattoo? You’re positively sure? Because I don’t want you to regret it.”
“I do, I have an idea, I want, a little fairy dancing in a sea of flames, on my arm here.” He pulled up his sleeve and pointed to the top of his arm.
Justin raised an eyebrow, “You want me to tattoo boobs to your arm?”
“A male fairy? With a nine inch cock?”
“A cock that will just deflate as you age,” Justin said dryly, sliding a piece of paper across the small table and starting to sketch quickly. “How about something like this?”
Emmett stood up and peered over his shoulder. “Oh my god, that is so good,” Justin carried on drawing, changing the colour of his pencils as he went, tinting the page.
Flickering flames grew from the page, in soft oranges and yellows, the lighter yellow inside of the flame creating a subtle crown.
“This is it, the tattoo of my dreams. Thank you, baby.” He bent down and kissed Justin’s cheek.
“Take the picture home, if you like it in a couple of months, I’ll tattoo you, but you need to think about it.” Justin was adamant that Emmett not do anything on the spur of the moment, only to regret it later.
“Well, if you say so…”
“I do, it’s another excuse for you to come visit me. So, how long you in town?”
“Just the night, so, what’s a fag to do in a town like this?”
“I can show you the scenes,” Justin grinned, “So, need anywhere to stay?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“So, tell me about the Pitts, what’s happening, what’s everyone doing?”
“Well,” Emmett rubbed his hands together, glad to be gossiping. “I’m a fabulous party planner still. Mikey has his comic book store, but you already knew that. Brian is barely around, he’s busy getting Kinnetik off the ground and he’s off every weekend drumming up clients, the back room is bare, I tell you. You need to come home for another visit, now the air is cleared, we can catch up properly. We really did miss you, sweetie.”
Justin smiled, somewhat awkwardly. Emmett was a great guy, and he’d enjoyed spending time with him and the others when he first came out, but they weren’t his friends, they were Brian’s friends and he was the kid he liked to fuck on occasions.
“I missed you too, Em. Anyway, as you’re my last client of the day, we can head off now, take your stuff back to mine and we can get ready to party. We can go to Diva, you’ll love it.”