Entry #08 - "Eternal Youth"
Title: Eternal Youth
Written By: dalic07
Timeline: Post Ep-513
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Justin/Ethan
Genre: Romance
Eternal Youth
POV: Justin / Brian
You and Brian collapse in each others arms, trying to breath. He wraps his arms around you and on the edge of consciousness, you try to force your brain to remember the feeling. You close your eyes and fade into sleep, only to open them as an alarm sounds.
You roll over expecting a tan body in your way, but falter when you see only the same white sheets you have soiled many times before because of that same dream and many like it.
You smack the alarm, taking out all your early morning frustration out on the poor circuitry that had the unfortunate joy of taking you away from you moments of bliss.
You fall back on the pillow, raking your hand through your tousled hair, wishing Brian was there to do it for you. You will yourself out of bed and walk to the bathroom, running the water for a shower and allowing the build up of urine to disappear in a spiral of water in the ceramic bowl.
You walk out of the shower as the ringtone of your phone dies away. You recognize the last few notes and curse out loud.
You walk to the phone hoping you can listen to the message he left. But before you can check it, you find yourself calling him back.
“When I call I expect you to answer,” says the voice on the other side.
You scuff. “Sorry, master,” you reply, realizing all too late the sexual connotation that comment could have.
Brian doesn’t miss a beat though. “You know, I’ve never been into that, but I might change if you keep calling me that.” Is there anytime when you’ve talked to him that he hasn’t turned you on?
“I’ll consider it.” You try not to smile and fail. “So what’s up?”
“Nothing, just wanted to check on you.”
You laugh. “We talked last night.”
“We did?” You hear the car engine start and wish you were there to tell him that he’s driving to fast, as always.
“Yes we did. What did you take last night?”
“E, Mari, and Jack and Jim... and some poppers for good measure.”
“Jesus, Brian! I know you were hammered last night, but that’s a little much.” You sigh. When did you start sounding like your mother?
“For your information, Jen, I was hydrated the whole night. I drank two bottles before fucking Jack and one more while Jim was blowing me.”
You feel your eyebrows brush against the roots of your hair. “Since when did you start remembering tricks names?”
“Since they were screaming each other’s name the whole night.”
You laugh. “What? They weren’t screaming yours.”
Brian sighs. “That’s what I get for fucking kissing twins.”
You wince. “GROSS!”
“I didn’t know until they left; and once they did, I completely sterilized everything and burned the sheets.”
“Oh no! You didn’t burn that old duvet, did you?”
“I don’t remember. I think so.”
“If I were there right now, I would slay you.” You feel your voice drop at the mention of Pittsburgh. You love New York but you miss Liberty Avenue.
Brian’s voice has dropped with yours. “Me too, Sunshine. The weather has been perfect for you to get some good scenic paintings.”
You look out the window at the overcast. “Yeah? Here too.” You’re a horrible liar and Brian knows it.
“I’m sure clouds give you interesting lighting.”
“More like none at all!” Brian laughs and you hear the engine die. “Are you at work?”
“Yeah.”
“I better let you go then.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Don’t work too hard.”
“You know me.”
“Right, let me rephrase that: Don’t kill anyone!”
“I won’t. You don’t consider the art department people do you?”
You laugh. “Nope.”
“Great! You’ve just made my job easier.”
“Call me after work and no stopping by the disco pharmacologist on the way home.”
“Good thing I have a stash at home.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “Well dear, I must run. I’ll call you after work and I won’t stop by the drug store on the way home. Bye.”
You smile at him through the phone and press you lips to it. “I love you. Bye.” You close the phone and glance in the mirror. Your hair is slightly damp and drying quickly and you skin’s already tight from the lack of moisture. If only you would be able to have a good high protein breakfast to help you live up to the name “Sunshine.”
You sigh and put on you clothes hoping that you can get that type of protein back in your diet very soon.
You step out of the car and glance around. Though you had told Justin you had spent the night disinfecting your loft and fucking senselessly, you had really just spent it working, you haven’t opened the “special drawer” in almost three weeks. Now you’re the first one to work and you know you’ll be alone for at least an hour.
When you called Justin, you hadn’t actually planned on him calling you back that fast. He apparently had just woken up or made coffee or something.
Either way in the short minutes you talked, you had tread into territory that you both swore, silently, that you would never mention while he was there in New York: home.
You could have died when you heard his voice falter on the phone. You both knew this was a difficult decision and it wasn’t getting any easier for him to live there.
The few times you went up there to see his modest apartment, you couldn’t take your hands off each other and spent most of the time in each other’s arms in bed, only moving to eat or shower. The plans he had made were shot to hell, but he never seemed to care. But you knew that in the time between his last moan and his quiet snore (he blames on his allergies) he wished it could be the same way again and you could do what he wanted.
But you can’t focus on that now, there’s no time. You started up early for a purpose; so Kinnetik can run smoothly.
By the time Cynthia arrives you’ve done most of her job.
“Slow night?” she asks.
You barely glance up from the board, that the art department fucked up again, and ignore the comment. “What do you want?”
She gives you the message that you didn’t bother to check (you have to leave her something to do) and replaces your cup of coffee before returning to her to make sure no one bothers you.
At eight , you’re in the Corvette again, taking the plane ticket out of the glove compartment. Ten o’ clock flight. Good thing you decided on a late flight.
You call Michael to make sure he knows what he’s supposed to do and you’re off to the airport.
When Brian calls, it’s nearly eleven. “Long day?” you ask, trying to hide that fact that you were dead asleep.
“Very,” he replies. You have no clue where he is but it isn’t the diner. “I only had to bitch out the art department three times. I had two more pitches to do and work on the Brown Athletics campaign.”
“Sounds like a full day.” You pause to yawn. “My day was definitely less interesting. Working, painting and gossiping.”
“If only I could do that.”
“Something tells me you would prefer to kill yourself instead of trading beauty secrets with the girls at the water fountain.”
“True, but I won’t have to bitch everyone out.”
“Yeah, you’d be getting bitched out.” Your words slow as a yawn takes you by surprise.
“You’re right. I couldn’t take that. You sound exhausted. Go ahead and go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning.
Any other night you would have argued but tonight you were too tired. “Alright. Call me first thing in the morning.”
You both know he would let you sleep to the end of the world if he could, but he humors you. “Fine. Good night.”
“Bye.” Before the phone hits on the dresser, you’re asleep again.
You’re back in the loft again, completely naked under the billion count thread sheets Brian just bought. You feel its time to break them in.
The loft door opens and you watch Brian walk around the house for a moment before he walks up the stairs and stops looking at how the sheets tent as they lay across your lap.
He walks to the bathroom and brushes his teeth before making you remove his clothes.
He lies in bed next to you running his hands through your hair and over your cock, making you bite the lips he just kissed. You try not to come, but he pushes the sheets back and puts his mouth where his hand was. You eyes shut and when you open them you’re back in your room.
Almost instantly you know there’s something wrong.
You sit up but a strong hand pushes you down. You panic for a moment before you recognize the shadow of the man kissing you.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” you say, as he pushes your legs to your chest.
“It isn’t as much of a surprise as the one I got when I got here.” You watch him as he wipes a drop of cum off his chest and offer it to you.
You suck his finger lightly. “Just reliving a day in the life of living with you.”
“But growing boys always need new memories to jack off to.” And before you can respond he pushes into you, leaving any other conversations until morning.
You cover your eyes as the sun pours through the window. Of all days for the sun to shine... You roll over onto your side, expecting to see light bounce off the blonde strands of your own little ray, but find only pillows and the smell of fat cooking.
“Are you trying to force me to live at the gym instead of work?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen, wondering if there had ever been this much light in Justin’s apartment.
“Good morning to you too,” he replies, turning from the stack of pancakes he had been tending to, to kiss you. “And no. We have to keep your strength up. I won’t want you to lose endurance in your old age.”
You slap his ass, before moving to the refrigerator. “If there’s anyone’s endurance you should be worried about it’s yours. I saw you’re eyelids drooping about three.”
“I still stayed with you.”
“Just barely though.” You pull a bottle of Evian out and take several gulps as you watch Justin move about the room.
During breakfast you find yourself less worried about the amount of fat, calories and carbohydrates you’re consuming (when has that ever happened?) and more about the reason you’re here.
After, he takes control (though he honestly has little) and you’re both back in bed
As you pull off the condom, your worries push their way back into your mind.
You wait for your breath to return. “Justin?”
“Hmm?” He’s falling asleep.
“Have you ever been out of the country?”
“No, never. Though I would love it.”
“Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Paris, Rome, London. You know the romantic places.”
You nod and stare into space, bring a lit cigarette to your lips. “So what about islands?”
“Well, I don’t know Jamaica, Bahamas. My only criteria are that it is warm, has a white sand beach and a very blue body of water for me to swim in.” He sits up. “Why?”
“Well, I was thinking somewhere far away, but with my laptop and cell phone, of course, just in case Cynthia and Ted can’t handle themselves.”
“Like where?”
“Mykonos.”
“Where’s that?”
“Off the coast of Greece.”
“Oh my God!” He practically jumps into your arms and almost makes you drop your ashes on the sheets. “When do we leave?”
“Wednesday.”
Oh my God! No!” The radiance in his face dies away. “I have to work and I’m showing one of my pieces and-”
“I already talked to Catherine. She’s letting you have off these next few days and the entire time we’re there, and she agreed to push back the showing until next month. So all you’ll have to worry about is what you want to eat, what I’m going to be taking off of you and where I’m going to fuck you next.” You see him smile again.
“Oh Brian thank you!” He falls back on the bed , though you can tell he’s not slightly tired now. “What can I do in the mean time to thank you?” He looks at you devilishly. You raise your eyebrow and he smiles, taking the hint. “Turn over,” he says mechanically, “and put your ass in the air.” He does it.
The next several days, you worry more and more about what Brian is “taking off” you, but he has you covered.
One day Brian splurges on you, buying every pair of shorts and Speedos you’ll ever wear.
Honestly, you had to turn him onto the idea of you wearing Speedos.
He deliberated long and hard (and between thrusts) and finally decided that the Speedos would be better than the swimming trunks.
Between packing and fucking, you hardly have time to tell anyone where you’re going, so you call Daphne and leave her a message. You figure by the time that you and Brian get to the room, she will probably have told half of Pennsylvania.
Tuesday night, you both go to sleep early. The flight is a six a.m., but you manage to get in one last fuck before “lights out at eleven” which involves several pillows between you both to keep anything from accidentally happening at one in the morning.
Four o’ clock you’re at the airport, trying to get through security checkpoints which really aren’t worth the hassle that early in the morning.
By 5:30, you’re asleep on Brian’s shoulder, waiting for the plane to refuel.
He wakes you up when they call first class (“I’d never expect Brian Kinney would fly first class,” you tease. “I know it’s unusual,” he replies.”) and you board the plane, falling asleep before you’re even out on the Atlantic.
When Justin wakes up you’ve been over the ocean for about four hours, hardly anything in a twenty-four hour trip.
By hour eight, he’s a little stir crazy so you give him a change of scenery, disappearing into the bathroom for a 15 minute break from yet another Tom Hanks movie.
It sustains him until you get there, but you know that the bed will probably be the only thing you see for several hours once you finally do.
He goes back to sleep at hour 15 and you follow suit, knowing that the stewardess would wake you before you land; it’s her job after all.
When you glance at you watch again its four a.m. New York time. Justin’s still asleep. You don’t want to wake him up but in about two hours all seats and tray tables will have to be put in their upright and locked positions. Then there is a short plane ride to Mykonos and he won’t care for the lack of sleep.
Even though everything is taken care of, there’s still one thing that worries you.
He startles you, mumbling in his sleep and turning his head slightly. You try to decipher what he said but the idiot behind you let’s out a loud snore that wakes him.
Getting him here was the easy part, it’s the next thing that is going to be the hardest.
“Remind me to buy ear plugs before we leave,” you whisper to Brian as the cacophony reaches a crescendo.
“Remind me to never fly this company again,” he replies, irritated.
“What time is it?”
“Four a.m. in New York.”
“We’re almost there?” You fell like dancing, but you know that Brian would look at you like you had actually lost your mind and “kindly” ask you never to do that again. So you settle with a small kiss.
“And the first thing I’m going to do when we get to the hotel is fuck your brains out.”
“Promises, promises. You’ll have to get me off the beach first.”
“Like that would be difficult. I’m very persuasive. That’s why I’m in advertising.”
“I’ve grown accustom to your charms.”
“And yet you still do what I want.”
“Only because I want it too.”
“With your sexual appetite, I’d be in shock if you didn’t.”
“There have only ever been a few time that I didn’t. I can’t help I love cock.”
“And that’s why I love you, and your mouth, and your ass...”
“Stop you’re driving me insane.”
“You can hold on for two hours, can’t you Sunshine?”
Every nerve in your body is saying. “Hell no! Fuck me long and hard.” And your mouth can only whisper the protest.
You know you shouldn’t have said it. Now you’re stuck for the next two hours trapped by Brian, who is telling everywhere and in every way he wants to fuck you.
You pray the plane lands and that Brian drives extremely fast. You want to get rid of the tenting in you pants quickly, even if that means bending to Brian’s every whim. But when hasn’t that been fun?
The first things you do when you get to the hotel are pay the bellhop, put the “do not disturb” sign on the door and fuck Justin in two of the 16 ways you said you would.
By the time he come back to Earth for the nth time, he has decided that it would be best to go to the hotel spa and spend an hour there while the food is being brought up by room service.
He orders something that sounds like the makings of a 400 pound man on a plate and, literally, bounces out the door.
You hang up the hotel phone and pick up your own. “From now on Emmett and Justin aren’t allowed to see each other,” you tell Michael.
“What? Has he started wearing pink feathered boas and singing show tunes?” he asks.
“No, he just bounced out of the room to the hotel spa.”
“Oh, so you’re there. How is it?”
“It will do. The room overlooks the sea. There’s even a balcony.”
“That’s the perfect place to ask. I assume you haven’t yet.”
“You wouldn’t guess that we’ve known each other for... as long as we have with you making assumptions like that!”
“Right... So when are you?”
“Soon.”
“Well, I’d hope so. You only have three days before-”
“I know. I’ll ask him soon and you’ll be the second one to know.”
“Second? Why second?”
“Because I want to keep you in suspense and make you feel as unimportant as you are, of course.”
“In short, because Justin will beat you.”
“More or less.”
“I’ll keep my ears open for the phone call.”
“You do that Mikey. Just make sure you’re focused enough on the present to make sure my loft stays in one piece.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t hurt your precise fuck pad.”
“Shh... Don’t call it that, it will hear you.”
“Fuck you, Brian.”
“You laugh. “Fuck you too Mikey.”
“Bye and have fun.”
“When do I not? Bye.” You snap the phone closed and grab a quick shower. Let’s hope you can have fun after you do this.
By the time you get back from the spa, you’re relaxed and starving. You begin gulping down food before you even sit down.
Halfway through your second chicken breast, you notice Brian staring off into space, he salad hardly eaten.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask.
He looks at you, as if startled, before smiling and shaking his head. “Just work,” he replies.
“The art department can’t be so bad that you’re worried about them during you’re vacation. I could come back and work for you if you need the help.”
“No, they’re doing marginally well. No need for drastic measures as of yet.” He takes his glass of wine and drinks it down like water.
“What’s the matter, Brian? Honestly.” You put your fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore.
“I... I want you to...” You begin to panic. He doesn’t do this. What’s going on? But you let him get it out. “I want you to go out on the balcony and look out at the sea.”
“You eye him suspiciously before getting up slowly and walking to the balcony.
Instantly, you’re taken aback by the sheer beauty of the view, especially at night.
You want a piece of paper and a pencil, but you feel Brian behind you and you realize that isn’t why he sent you out here.
He walks out and takes you in his arms, before kissing you desperately.
Your head rests on his shoulder. He sighs and mumbles something that you’ve heard before.
“What?” you ask, looking up at him.
It’s his turn to rest his head on your shoulder. You feel his weight on you. Between the breath on your ear and the words carried on it, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Marry me.”
With Brian in such a fragile state you’re suddenly too afraid to say a word.
Since you had gotten off the phone with Michael, your heart had been racing. Several times you contemplated not to do anything. To have this vacation and go home single, but not rejected.
But you know that Michael wouldn’t let you live that down. And above everyone in Pittsburgh, you owed this to Justin. You fucked up once, becoming a complete hypocrite in the course of a few months and pushing Justin to New York.
You still feel that that’s where he should be to reach his peak, but you feel like no matter how long it takes he’ll never reach it without someone who would be willing to back him. Not an entourage, or a sponsor, but someone who would give a damn for his emotional, physical, spiritual and mental health.
You may not be it, but you’ve been doing a pretty good job for eight years if you say so yourself.
You took Michael’s advice and proposed on the balcony though it wasn’t like anyone had planned and you suddenly feel like you have to make up for it.
You stand up as thousands of thoughts come to your head. “Three years ago,” Why did you start like that? “Three years ago, when I asked I didn’t exactly know what I was supposed to do. I tried to be what I thought you wanted me to be but as you told me, that’s not want you wanted. You wanted me to be how I was before the bombing. At first I thought it was an impossibility, even for me. But Michael, Deb, Lindsay, hell even Melanie to me that they liked me before everything happened. So since you left I’ve been trying to mature but be myself and I think I’m there. So I want to try again. I want you to be happy and if that’s not with me, because whether or not you realize it, you’ve changed too, and you might not want to anymore, tell me and I will never bring it up again.”
You finally take a breath, just find yourself holding it.
He stands there, as if shocked for a moment. He opens his mouth finally and you flinch when his voice hits your ears. “Brian, we have both changed and I noticed that you have changed for the better-.” He stops and you realize you’ve been staring at the concrete floor. You look at him and see that the bright blue of his eyes are enhanced by his tears that he has allowed to fall. You instinctly wipe them away, kissing him lightly, waiting for an answer. As you pull away from him you hear a barely audible, “Yes.”
It seems to take forever for it to process, but when it does, you laugh at your own reluctance and kiss him over and over again.
You hand him your phone when he says he has to call his mom. You tell him to call Mikey right after because you swore he’d be the second one to know.
You watch as he talks animatedly to Jen who, you are sure, is doing back flips through some house she’s showing.
You walk in just as Michael picks up. “Guess what?” Justin asks. Forever the school boy.
After you’re tired of hearing distant voices, you find yourself unable to eat at all.
Brian calls room service and puts the tray outside the door to be picked up.
Before he closes the door, you find yourself babbling about the wedding you would have had in Pittsburgh, and how it will compare to the one that you’re going to have.
He finally pushes you onto the bed and puts his tongue in you mouth, making you lose your train of thought.
It’s not until breakfast the next morning that you regain it and talk again animatedly about weddings. Brian humors you, smiling at your pure giddiness.
By the time you hit the beach, you’ve figured out the colors and are working on the guest list, trying to remember who you had on the last list.
You think you have heard enough wedding talk in the past 12 hours to make you sick of it; but your heart tells you, you may never get sick until its over, then it will honestly be a new life.
You’re relieved that you got through everything with no injury for anyone (except Jen and Deb who may have both had a heart attack).
You never really talked to God (maybe three times to date) but you find yourself hoping that everything goes perfect from now on. You know that you can do what you need to do for Justin; you just hope that you can make him happy like he was for that moment at Prom and when you gave up all you’re money to stop that asshole Stockwell.
Though you look at him now and wonder if he can truly ever be unhappy again, not that you planning on testing that theory ever. You go back to the room and before either of you can honestly relax, the hotel phone rings.
You hit the speakerphone, annoyed. “Mr. Kinney?”
“Yes?”
“I just wanted to let you know that the preparations for your-” You pick up the receiver quickly and Justin looks at you curiously.
You swear to him silently that there will never be one more secret you keep for him after this one.
You lean against the headboard, trying to listen to Brian’s conversation. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop (how many times had your mom said that?) but you can’t help but be extremely curious about this. Brian’s... what?
When he gets off the phone you can’t help but ask what the call was about.
“Just the reservations I made for us to have dinner at a restaurant. It’s supposed to be one of those you have to know someone famous, or be someone famous type of restaurants. So I’m hoping they live up to their reviews.”
“But he said “preparations” not reservations.”
“I know. I called to tell them about your decisions of the colors. It’s an engagement dinner, of sorts.”
You don’t believe a word. “When did you call?”
“When you were digging sand out of you ass in the shower. Why all the questions?”
“Just curious. So when is this “engagement dinner, of sorts?”
“Sunday.”
“And we’re just going to walk in there with shorts and t-shirts?”
“Fuck no! Parish the thought!” He gets out of bed and walks to the closet, opening the garment bag and puling out the suit you had worn the night of the rehearsal dinner. “I hope it still fits.”
You’re a little taken aback at first and finally join Brian by the closet, taking the fabric in your arms. “Why did you pick this one?”
“Well other than the fact that it looks good on you, it was tailored the most recent. So it was the obvious choice.”
“I’m surprised you still have it.”
“I couldn’t possibly throw away good craftsmanship.”
You want to laugh but you’re too touched to do that. “I’ll try it on.”
He inspects you minutes later. “The buttons are pulling.” He tugs at the shirt. “When’s the last time you’ve been to the gym?”
“You hit him. “I’m still the same weight I was when I left Pittsburgh, and I’m not fat!” Okay, you maybe gained a pound.
“These buttons say different. We may have to get you a giant plastic bag and hope it hides all the fat.”
“I suppose. That’s as long as you fuck me the same way, it won’t matter.”
“I don’t know. Beer guts are a huge turn off.” And yet he’s taking off your suit jacket and pulling the shirt tails out of your pants.
“More cushion for the pushing. I think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Well, good thing is I can push hard or it might be a problem.” You’re on the bed now, clothes abandoned as usual on the floor.
Saturday, comes and goes much like Friday, except you notice that Brian isn’t relaxing anymore.
Every few minutes he glances around as if worried that something will pop out of midair.
“Looking for someone?” you ask when he seems to be preoccupied at lunch.
Huh? No, no. Just taking everything in.”
“Uh-huh...”Bullshit! “What’s up, Brian?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“And why not?”
“Because it is my job to keep you guessing, so I will end up with the desired effect.”
“Annoyance?”
“If that’s what you want to call it, then yes.”
You return to your food, angry but curious, wishing he would stop all the secrecy.
You know Justin is beyond annoyed right now, but it’s just something you can’t tell him just yet. He’ll understand.
You get to bed late as always, he forgave you a little, or just enough.
At some ungodly hour of the morning, the alarm clock goes off. Justin turns it off and goes to the bathroom. You’re back asleep before he flushes.
“Brian.”
“Hmm?” What does he want?
“Come out and watch the sun rise with me.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to be beautiful. I heard some people talking about it at the beach.”
“I saw the sunrise everyday of my adolescence. If you’ve seen it rise once, there’s no need to see it again.”
“But it’s a different side of the world and I was always too tired to notice the sunrise. Come on, please?” You feel Justin’s hand on your cock. “We’ve never fucked at sunrise on a balcony on a Greek island before.”
You feel your eyebrow go up before you open your eyes. “Have you ass in the air in two minutes.” Justin laughs and kisses you before running off to the balcony.
By the time you walk out there, Justin is leaning on the cement barrier, facing east.
You go back to bed at eight, setting the alarm clock for ten. You need those two hours of sleep. It takes you a while to go to sleep, you’re too worried.
At ten you wake up and take a shower, Justin is still asleep when you walk back out.
“Justin.” You shake him awake and walk to the bureau.
“Uh-hmm?”
“Get up and shower, we need to go.”
“Go where?”
“The restaurant.”
“Huh?”
“Come on. You have to be there by two.”
“Why two?”
“Because that’s the time I set it for. Come on.” You pull the bedspread off of him and he finally gets out of bed. “I’m going ahead to make sure everything’s done right.”
“Okay, fine.” He walks into the bathroom.
“I’m leaving you directions to the place. Be there at two on the dot and wear the suit.”
“In 90 degree weather?” He pokes his head out of the door. “You’re shitting me!”
“What are you a scat queen? It’s not that far, just three block. You’ll make it.”
“I’d better or I’m suing you!”
“Right...” When you leave he’s still in the shower.
You’re getting tired of Brian’s secrets. You decide to humor him and hope you don’t have to wait long.
When he woke up and talked about the restaurant you were stunned. Who the hell wears a suit on 90 fucking degree heat?
But it’s what Brian wants so you just do it.
You look at the suit hanging in the closet and realize that there is a red and white rose in the outside pocket. You smile and wonder where he got them without you noticing.
Finally, you’re dressed and looking at the directions. You’ve probably passed the place a billion times since you got here. It seems nice enough, hopefully you’ll be inside and he’ll already have ordered a cold bottle of wine.
Five minutes later, you’re standing in the lobby of another hotel. You walk to the receptionist desk; before you can say a word she begins escorting you to the courtyard. You think, Okay Brian, this is a little much. You turn the corner and stop at the threshold breathless.
You had been looking at your watch since 1:30. You talk to Michael to try to occupy yourself, but for once you don’t have anything to talk about. He keeps saying “everything will be just fine, but you still feel yourself melting into a panic. What if he got lost or just decided not to come.
You about to call him when a gasp echoes through the courtyard and a hush comes over everyone. You look up and see Justin standing there in complete shock, and feel your face soften.
Jen walks over to him and takes his arm in hers. He snaps out of it and walks down the aisle. He finally makes it to the steps and joins you in front of the reverend, holding your hand, as if that’s his only support. “Surprise, Justin,” you whisper and grasp his hand tightly. His smile has never seemed so bright.
You couldn’t have recreated the scene with paint or graphite. Brian is at the end of the aisle standing next to Michael and Gus (he’s so old). On the other side of the arch are JR and Daphne.
All of your closest friends are sitting when you first enter but stand when they see you. Your mom comes out of nowhere and takes your arm. You feel your eyes begin to sting, bit you can’t cry, not yet.
“Surprise, Justin,” Brian says and you can only reply with “Thank you.”
The reverend finally get to the vows, but Brian cuts him off. “If it’s all the same to you. I want to tell him what I’ve had memorized for three years.” The reverend nods and you feel the first few tears dangerously close to falling. “We’ve been through a lot since the night we met under the lamppost outside Babylon. Gus’s birth that night, Jen trying to turn you straight.” He turns to her. “We forgive you by the way.” You can’t help but laugh like everyone else. “Then there was New York, the first time; Chris Hobbs and the bashing; the recovery, Rage, Ian-”
“Ethan.” You’re still correcting him after all these years.
“-The fiddler; Stockwell; starting Kinnetik, almost losing my shirt, financially, for the third time; the Pink Posse; cancer; the Liberty Ride; Rage the movie- well that was more of you and Mikey-; you coming back and leaving; the bombing, the house ; our almost marriage and New York. But through that and the many other things that we’ve gone through we’re here, preparing to sentence ourselves to an eternity of more situations like the one’s listed above, but be willing to do it together, which we’re pretty good at.”
“The night I met you, I was planning and almost never seeing you again, as Michael explained to you the night after, but you were persistent and now I’m here, ready to do something I thought was a farce. I’m already doing something I thought I was unable to do, so why not one more thing, just to freak everyone out.
“When I say “I do” today, it’s to everything he says and more as long as it makes you happy.”
The tears that had been falling during his speech, he wipes away and you notice how his eyes are also glistening and you can’t help but smile and nod. “I do want to be happy and I want to be with you until the end of time. I...just... do!”
You know there’s no need for the reverend. You’re already married.
At the reception, you dance, greet people, cut the cake, all the “straight” things that you swore you’d never do.
You and Justin sit at the head table as everyone dances enjoying the clumsy dance that Gus and JR are doing when you feel a squeeze on your hand. “How did you know, I’d say yes?” he asks.
“I didn’t,” you reply, “I took a chance.”
“Like the song. “Go ahead, push your luck, Find out how much love the world can hold.””
“Yeah, like that. And apparently the world can hold more than I’ve ever known.” You hope you’re not like this permanently. “I love you.”
“I love you too, though these pants are getting a little uncomfortable.”
You smile and before the next song has begun, you’re in him, raw.
Forever two teenage boys.
**********
The End
Written By: dalic07
Timeline: Post Ep-513
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Justin/Ethan
Genre: Romance
Eternal Youth
POV: Justin / Brian
You and Brian collapse in each others arms, trying to breath. He wraps his arms around you and on the edge of consciousness, you try to force your brain to remember the feeling. You close your eyes and fade into sleep, only to open them as an alarm sounds.
You roll over expecting a tan body in your way, but falter when you see only the same white sheets you have soiled many times before because of that same dream and many like it.
You smack the alarm, taking out all your early morning frustration out on the poor circuitry that had the unfortunate joy of taking you away from you moments of bliss.
You fall back on the pillow, raking your hand through your tousled hair, wishing Brian was there to do it for you. You will yourself out of bed and walk to the bathroom, running the water for a shower and allowing the build up of urine to disappear in a spiral of water in the ceramic bowl.
You walk out of the shower as the ringtone of your phone dies away. You recognize the last few notes and curse out loud.
You walk to the phone hoping you can listen to the message he left. But before you can check it, you find yourself calling him back.
“When I call I expect you to answer,” says the voice on the other side.
You scuff. “Sorry, master,” you reply, realizing all too late the sexual connotation that comment could have.
Brian doesn’t miss a beat though. “You know, I’ve never been into that, but I might change if you keep calling me that.” Is there anytime when you’ve talked to him that he hasn’t turned you on?
“I’ll consider it.” You try not to smile and fail. “So what’s up?”
“Nothing, just wanted to check on you.”
You laugh. “We talked last night.”
“We did?” You hear the car engine start and wish you were there to tell him that he’s driving to fast, as always.
“Yes we did. What did you take last night?”
“E, Mari, and Jack and Jim... and some poppers for good measure.”
“Jesus, Brian! I know you were hammered last night, but that’s a little much.” You sigh. When did you start sounding like your mother?
“For your information, Jen, I was hydrated the whole night. I drank two bottles before fucking Jack and one more while Jim was blowing me.”
You feel your eyebrows brush against the roots of your hair. “Since when did you start remembering tricks names?”
“Since they were screaming each other’s name the whole night.”
You laugh. “What? They weren’t screaming yours.”
Brian sighs. “That’s what I get for fucking kissing twins.”
You wince. “GROSS!”
“I didn’t know until they left; and once they did, I completely sterilized everything and burned the sheets.”
“Oh no! You didn’t burn that old duvet, did you?”
“I don’t remember. I think so.”
“If I were there right now, I would slay you.” You feel your voice drop at the mention of Pittsburgh. You love New York but you miss Liberty Avenue.
Brian’s voice has dropped with yours. “Me too, Sunshine. The weather has been perfect for you to get some good scenic paintings.”
You look out the window at the overcast. “Yeah? Here too.” You’re a horrible liar and Brian knows it.
“I’m sure clouds give you interesting lighting.”
“More like none at all!” Brian laughs and you hear the engine die. “Are you at work?”
“Yeah.”
“I better let you go then.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Don’t work too hard.”
“You know me.”
“Right, let me rephrase that: Don’t kill anyone!”
“I won’t. You don’t consider the art department people do you?”
You laugh. “Nope.”
“Great! You’ve just made my job easier.”
“Call me after work and no stopping by the disco pharmacologist on the way home.”
“Good thing I have a stash at home.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “Well dear, I must run. I’ll call you after work and I won’t stop by the drug store on the way home. Bye.”
You smile at him through the phone and press you lips to it. “I love you. Bye.” You close the phone and glance in the mirror. Your hair is slightly damp and drying quickly and you skin’s already tight from the lack of moisture. If only you would be able to have a good high protein breakfast to help you live up to the name “Sunshine.”
You sigh and put on you clothes hoping that you can get that type of protein back in your diet very soon.
You step out of the car and glance around. Though you had told Justin you had spent the night disinfecting your loft and fucking senselessly, you had really just spent it working, you haven’t opened the “special drawer” in almost three weeks. Now you’re the first one to work and you know you’ll be alone for at least an hour.
When you called Justin, you hadn’t actually planned on him calling you back that fast. He apparently had just woken up or made coffee or something.
Either way in the short minutes you talked, you had tread into territory that you both swore, silently, that you would never mention while he was there in New York: home.
You could have died when you heard his voice falter on the phone. You both knew this was a difficult decision and it wasn’t getting any easier for him to live there.
The few times you went up there to see his modest apartment, you couldn’t take your hands off each other and spent most of the time in each other’s arms in bed, only moving to eat or shower. The plans he had made were shot to hell, but he never seemed to care. But you knew that in the time between his last moan and his quiet snore (he blames on his allergies) he wished it could be the same way again and you could do what he wanted.
But you can’t focus on that now, there’s no time. You started up early for a purpose; so Kinnetik can run smoothly.
By the time Cynthia arrives you’ve done most of her job.
“Slow night?” she asks.
You barely glance up from the board, that the art department fucked up again, and ignore the comment. “What do you want?”
She gives you the message that you didn’t bother to check (you have to leave her something to do) and replaces your cup of coffee before returning to her to make sure no one bothers you.
At eight , you’re in the Corvette again, taking the plane ticket out of the glove compartment. Ten o’ clock flight. Good thing you decided on a late flight.
You call Michael to make sure he knows what he’s supposed to do and you’re off to the airport.
When Brian calls, it’s nearly eleven. “Long day?” you ask, trying to hide that fact that you were dead asleep.
“Very,” he replies. You have no clue where he is but it isn’t the diner. “I only had to bitch out the art department three times. I had two more pitches to do and work on the Brown Athletics campaign.”
“Sounds like a full day.” You pause to yawn. “My day was definitely less interesting. Working, painting and gossiping.”
“If only I could do that.”
“Something tells me you would prefer to kill yourself instead of trading beauty secrets with the girls at the water fountain.”
“True, but I won’t have to bitch everyone out.”
“Yeah, you’d be getting bitched out.” Your words slow as a yawn takes you by surprise.
“You’re right. I couldn’t take that. You sound exhausted. Go ahead and go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning.
Any other night you would have argued but tonight you were too tired. “Alright. Call me first thing in the morning.”
You both know he would let you sleep to the end of the world if he could, but he humors you. “Fine. Good night.”
“Bye.” Before the phone hits on the dresser, you’re asleep again.
You’re back in the loft again, completely naked under the billion count thread sheets Brian just bought. You feel its time to break them in.
The loft door opens and you watch Brian walk around the house for a moment before he walks up the stairs and stops looking at how the sheets tent as they lay across your lap.
He walks to the bathroom and brushes his teeth before making you remove his clothes.
He lies in bed next to you running his hands through your hair and over your cock, making you bite the lips he just kissed. You try not to come, but he pushes the sheets back and puts his mouth where his hand was. You eyes shut and when you open them you’re back in your room.
Almost instantly you know there’s something wrong.
You sit up but a strong hand pushes you down. You panic for a moment before you recognize the shadow of the man kissing you.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” you say, as he pushes your legs to your chest.
“It isn’t as much of a surprise as the one I got when I got here.” You watch him as he wipes a drop of cum off his chest and offer it to you.
You suck his finger lightly. “Just reliving a day in the life of living with you.”
“But growing boys always need new memories to jack off to.” And before you can respond he pushes into you, leaving any other conversations until morning.
You cover your eyes as the sun pours through the window. Of all days for the sun to shine... You roll over onto your side, expecting to see light bounce off the blonde strands of your own little ray, but find only pillows and the smell of fat cooking.
“Are you trying to force me to live at the gym instead of work?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen, wondering if there had ever been this much light in Justin’s apartment.
“Good morning to you too,” he replies, turning from the stack of pancakes he had been tending to, to kiss you. “And no. We have to keep your strength up. I won’t want you to lose endurance in your old age.”
You slap his ass, before moving to the refrigerator. “If there’s anyone’s endurance you should be worried about it’s yours. I saw you’re eyelids drooping about three.”
“I still stayed with you.”
“Just barely though.” You pull a bottle of Evian out and take several gulps as you watch Justin move about the room.
During breakfast you find yourself less worried about the amount of fat, calories and carbohydrates you’re consuming (when has that ever happened?) and more about the reason you’re here.
After, he takes control (though he honestly has little) and you’re both back in bed
As you pull off the condom, your worries push their way back into your mind.
You wait for your breath to return. “Justin?”
“Hmm?” He’s falling asleep.
“Have you ever been out of the country?”
“No, never. Though I would love it.”
“Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Paris, Rome, London. You know the romantic places.”
You nod and stare into space, bring a lit cigarette to your lips. “So what about islands?”
“Well, I don’t know Jamaica, Bahamas. My only criteria are that it is warm, has a white sand beach and a very blue body of water for me to swim in.” He sits up. “Why?”
“Well, I was thinking somewhere far away, but with my laptop and cell phone, of course, just in case Cynthia and Ted can’t handle themselves.”
“Like where?”
“Mykonos.”
“Where’s that?”
“Off the coast of Greece.”
“Oh my God!” He practically jumps into your arms and almost makes you drop your ashes on the sheets. “When do we leave?”
“Wednesday.”
Oh my God! No!” The radiance in his face dies away. “I have to work and I’m showing one of my pieces and-”
“I already talked to Catherine. She’s letting you have off these next few days and the entire time we’re there, and she agreed to push back the showing until next month. So all you’ll have to worry about is what you want to eat, what I’m going to be taking off of you and where I’m going to fuck you next.” You see him smile again.
“Oh Brian thank you!” He falls back on the bed , though you can tell he’s not slightly tired now. “What can I do in the mean time to thank you?” He looks at you devilishly. You raise your eyebrow and he smiles, taking the hint. “Turn over,” he says mechanically, “and put your ass in the air.” He does it.
The next several days, you worry more and more about what Brian is “taking off” you, but he has you covered.
One day Brian splurges on you, buying every pair of shorts and Speedos you’ll ever wear.
Honestly, you had to turn him onto the idea of you wearing Speedos.
He deliberated long and hard (and between thrusts) and finally decided that the Speedos would be better than the swimming trunks.
Between packing and fucking, you hardly have time to tell anyone where you’re going, so you call Daphne and leave her a message. You figure by the time that you and Brian get to the room, she will probably have told half of Pennsylvania.
Tuesday night, you both go to sleep early. The flight is a six a.m., but you manage to get in one last fuck before “lights out at eleven” which involves several pillows between you both to keep anything from accidentally happening at one in the morning.
Four o’ clock you’re at the airport, trying to get through security checkpoints which really aren’t worth the hassle that early in the morning.
By 5:30, you’re asleep on Brian’s shoulder, waiting for the plane to refuel.
He wakes you up when they call first class (“I’d never expect Brian Kinney would fly first class,” you tease. “I know it’s unusual,” he replies.”) and you board the plane, falling asleep before you’re even out on the Atlantic.
When Justin wakes up you’ve been over the ocean for about four hours, hardly anything in a twenty-four hour trip.
By hour eight, he’s a little stir crazy so you give him a change of scenery, disappearing into the bathroom for a 15 minute break from yet another Tom Hanks movie.
It sustains him until you get there, but you know that the bed will probably be the only thing you see for several hours once you finally do.
He goes back to sleep at hour 15 and you follow suit, knowing that the stewardess would wake you before you land; it’s her job after all.
When you glance at you watch again its four a.m. New York time. Justin’s still asleep. You don’t want to wake him up but in about two hours all seats and tray tables will have to be put in their upright and locked positions. Then there is a short plane ride to Mykonos and he won’t care for the lack of sleep.
Even though everything is taken care of, there’s still one thing that worries you.
He startles you, mumbling in his sleep and turning his head slightly. You try to decipher what he said but the idiot behind you let’s out a loud snore that wakes him.
Getting him here was the easy part, it’s the next thing that is going to be the hardest.
“Remind me to buy ear plugs before we leave,” you whisper to Brian as the cacophony reaches a crescendo.
“Remind me to never fly this company again,” he replies, irritated.
“What time is it?”
“Four a.m. in New York.”
“We’re almost there?” You fell like dancing, but you know that Brian would look at you like you had actually lost your mind and “kindly” ask you never to do that again. So you settle with a small kiss.
“And the first thing I’m going to do when we get to the hotel is fuck your brains out.”
“Promises, promises. You’ll have to get me off the beach first.”
“Like that would be difficult. I’m very persuasive. That’s why I’m in advertising.”
“I’ve grown accustom to your charms.”
“And yet you still do what I want.”
“Only because I want it too.”
“With your sexual appetite, I’d be in shock if you didn’t.”
“There have only ever been a few time that I didn’t. I can’t help I love cock.”
“And that’s why I love you, and your mouth, and your ass...”
“Stop you’re driving me insane.”
“You can hold on for two hours, can’t you Sunshine?”
Every nerve in your body is saying. “Hell no! Fuck me long and hard.” And your mouth can only whisper the protest.
You know you shouldn’t have said it. Now you’re stuck for the next two hours trapped by Brian, who is telling everywhere and in every way he wants to fuck you.
You pray the plane lands and that Brian drives extremely fast. You want to get rid of the tenting in you pants quickly, even if that means bending to Brian’s every whim. But when hasn’t that been fun?
The first things you do when you get to the hotel are pay the bellhop, put the “do not disturb” sign on the door and fuck Justin in two of the 16 ways you said you would.
By the time he come back to Earth for the nth time, he has decided that it would be best to go to the hotel spa and spend an hour there while the food is being brought up by room service.
He orders something that sounds like the makings of a 400 pound man on a plate and, literally, bounces out the door.
You hang up the hotel phone and pick up your own. “From now on Emmett and Justin aren’t allowed to see each other,” you tell Michael.
“What? Has he started wearing pink feathered boas and singing show tunes?” he asks.
“No, he just bounced out of the room to the hotel spa.”
“Oh, so you’re there. How is it?”
“It will do. The room overlooks the sea. There’s even a balcony.”
“That’s the perfect place to ask. I assume you haven’t yet.”
“You wouldn’t guess that we’ve known each other for... as long as we have with you making assumptions like that!”
“Right... So when are you?”
“Soon.”
“Well, I’d hope so. You only have three days before-”
“I know. I’ll ask him soon and you’ll be the second one to know.”
“Second? Why second?”
“Because I want to keep you in suspense and make you feel as unimportant as you are, of course.”
“In short, because Justin will beat you.”
“More or less.”
“I’ll keep my ears open for the phone call.”
“You do that Mikey. Just make sure you’re focused enough on the present to make sure my loft stays in one piece.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t hurt your precise fuck pad.”
“Shh... Don’t call it that, it will hear you.”
“Fuck you, Brian.”
“You laugh. “Fuck you too Mikey.”
“Bye and have fun.”
“When do I not? Bye.” You snap the phone closed and grab a quick shower. Let’s hope you can have fun after you do this.
By the time you get back from the spa, you’re relaxed and starving. You begin gulping down food before you even sit down.
Halfway through your second chicken breast, you notice Brian staring off into space, he salad hardly eaten.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask.
He looks at you, as if startled, before smiling and shaking his head. “Just work,” he replies.
“The art department can’t be so bad that you’re worried about them during you’re vacation. I could come back and work for you if you need the help.”
“No, they’re doing marginally well. No need for drastic measures as of yet.” He takes his glass of wine and drinks it down like water.
“What’s the matter, Brian? Honestly.” You put your fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore.
“I... I want you to...” You begin to panic. He doesn’t do this. What’s going on? But you let him get it out. “I want you to go out on the balcony and look out at the sea.”
“You eye him suspiciously before getting up slowly and walking to the balcony.
Instantly, you’re taken aback by the sheer beauty of the view, especially at night.
You want a piece of paper and a pencil, but you feel Brian behind you and you realize that isn’t why he sent you out here.
He walks out and takes you in his arms, before kissing you desperately.
Your head rests on his shoulder. He sighs and mumbles something that you’ve heard before.
“What?” you ask, looking up at him.
It’s his turn to rest his head on your shoulder. You feel his weight on you. Between the breath on your ear and the words carried on it, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Marry me.”
With Brian in such a fragile state you’re suddenly too afraid to say a word.
Since you had gotten off the phone with Michael, your heart had been racing. Several times you contemplated not to do anything. To have this vacation and go home single, but not rejected.
But you know that Michael wouldn’t let you live that down. And above everyone in Pittsburgh, you owed this to Justin. You fucked up once, becoming a complete hypocrite in the course of a few months and pushing Justin to New York.
You still feel that that’s where he should be to reach his peak, but you feel like no matter how long it takes he’ll never reach it without someone who would be willing to back him. Not an entourage, or a sponsor, but someone who would give a damn for his emotional, physical, spiritual and mental health.
You may not be it, but you’ve been doing a pretty good job for eight years if you say so yourself.
You took Michael’s advice and proposed on the balcony though it wasn’t like anyone had planned and you suddenly feel like you have to make up for it.
You stand up as thousands of thoughts come to your head. “Three years ago,” Why did you start like that? “Three years ago, when I asked I didn’t exactly know what I was supposed to do. I tried to be what I thought you wanted me to be but as you told me, that’s not want you wanted. You wanted me to be how I was before the bombing. At first I thought it was an impossibility, even for me. But Michael, Deb, Lindsay, hell even Melanie to me that they liked me before everything happened. So since you left I’ve been trying to mature but be myself and I think I’m there. So I want to try again. I want you to be happy and if that’s not with me, because whether or not you realize it, you’ve changed too, and you might not want to anymore, tell me and I will never bring it up again.”
You finally take a breath, just find yourself holding it.
He stands there, as if shocked for a moment. He opens his mouth finally and you flinch when his voice hits your ears. “Brian, we have both changed and I noticed that you have changed for the better-.” He stops and you realize you’ve been staring at the concrete floor. You look at him and see that the bright blue of his eyes are enhanced by his tears that he has allowed to fall. You instinctly wipe them away, kissing him lightly, waiting for an answer. As you pull away from him you hear a barely audible, “Yes.”
It seems to take forever for it to process, but when it does, you laugh at your own reluctance and kiss him over and over again.
You hand him your phone when he says he has to call his mom. You tell him to call Mikey right after because you swore he’d be the second one to know.
You watch as he talks animatedly to Jen who, you are sure, is doing back flips through some house she’s showing.
You walk in just as Michael picks up. “Guess what?” Justin asks. Forever the school boy.
After you’re tired of hearing distant voices, you find yourself unable to eat at all.
Brian calls room service and puts the tray outside the door to be picked up.
Before he closes the door, you find yourself babbling about the wedding you would have had in Pittsburgh, and how it will compare to the one that you’re going to have.
He finally pushes you onto the bed and puts his tongue in you mouth, making you lose your train of thought.
It’s not until breakfast the next morning that you regain it and talk again animatedly about weddings. Brian humors you, smiling at your pure giddiness.
By the time you hit the beach, you’ve figured out the colors and are working on the guest list, trying to remember who you had on the last list.
You think you have heard enough wedding talk in the past 12 hours to make you sick of it; but your heart tells you, you may never get sick until its over, then it will honestly be a new life.
You’re relieved that you got through everything with no injury for anyone (except Jen and Deb who may have both had a heart attack).
You never really talked to God (maybe three times to date) but you find yourself hoping that everything goes perfect from now on. You know that you can do what you need to do for Justin; you just hope that you can make him happy like he was for that moment at Prom and when you gave up all you’re money to stop that asshole Stockwell.
Though you look at him now and wonder if he can truly ever be unhappy again, not that you planning on testing that theory ever. You go back to the room and before either of you can honestly relax, the hotel phone rings.
You hit the speakerphone, annoyed. “Mr. Kinney?”
“Yes?”
“I just wanted to let you know that the preparations for your-” You pick up the receiver quickly and Justin looks at you curiously.
You swear to him silently that there will never be one more secret you keep for him after this one.
You lean against the headboard, trying to listen to Brian’s conversation. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop (how many times had your mom said that?) but you can’t help but be extremely curious about this. Brian’s... what?
When he gets off the phone you can’t help but ask what the call was about.
“Just the reservations I made for us to have dinner at a restaurant. It’s supposed to be one of those you have to know someone famous, or be someone famous type of restaurants. So I’m hoping they live up to their reviews.”
“But he said “preparations” not reservations.”
“I know. I called to tell them about your decisions of the colors. It’s an engagement dinner, of sorts.”
You don’t believe a word. “When did you call?”
“When you were digging sand out of you ass in the shower. Why all the questions?”
“Just curious. So when is this “engagement dinner, of sorts?”
“Sunday.”
“And we’re just going to walk in there with shorts and t-shirts?”
“Fuck no! Parish the thought!” He gets out of bed and walks to the closet, opening the garment bag and puling out the suit you had worn the night of the rehearsal dinner. “I hope it still fits.”
You’re a little taken aback at first and finally join Brian by the closet, taking the fabric in your arms. “Why did you pick this one?”
“Well other than the fact that it looks good on you, it was tailored the most recent. So it was the obvious choice.”
“I’m surprised you still have it.”
“I couldn’t possibly throw away good craftsmanship.”
You want to laugh but you’re too touched to do that. “I’ll try it on.”
He inspects you minutes later. “The buttons are pulling.” He tugs at the shirt. “When’s the last time you’ve been to the gym?”
“You hit him. “I’m still the same weight I was when I left Pittsburgh, and I’m not fat!” Okay, you maybe gained a pound.
“These buttons say different. We may have to get you a giant plastic bag and hope it hides all the fat.”
“I suppose. That’s as long as you fuck me the same way, it won’t matter.”
“I don’t know. Beer guts are a huge turn off.” And yet he’s taking off your suit jacket and pulling the shirt tails out of your pants.
“More cushion for the pushing. I think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Well, good thing is I can push hard or it might be a problem.” You’re on the bed now, clothes abandoned as usual on the floor.
Saturday, comes and goes much like Friday, except you notice that Brian isn’t relaxing anymore.
Every few minutes he glances around as if worried that something will pop out of midair.
“Looking for someone?” you ask when he seems to be preoccupied at lunch.
Huh? No, no. Just taking everything in.”
“Uh-huh...”Bullshit! “What’s up, Brian?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“And why not?”
“Because it is my job to keep you guessing, so I will end up with the desired effect.”
“Annoyance?”
“If that’s what you want to call it, then yes.”
You return to your food, angry but curious, wishing he would stop all the secrecy.
You know Justin is beyond annoyed right now, but it’s just something you can’t tell him just yet. He’ll understand.
You get to bed late as always, he forgave you a little, or just enough.
At some ungodly hour of the morning, the alarm clock goes off. Justin turns it off and goes to the bathroom. You’re back asleep before he flushes.
“Brian.”
“Hmm?” What does he want?
“Come out and watch the sun rise with me.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to be beautiful. I heard some people talking about it at the beach.”
“I saw the sunrise everyday of my adolescence. If you’ve seen it rise once, there’s no need to see it again.”
“But it’s a different side of the world and I was always too tired to notice the sunrise. Come on, please?” You feel Justin’s hand on your cock. “We’ve never fucked at sunrise on a balcony on a Greek island before.”
You feel your eyebrow go up before you open your eyes. “Have you ass in the air in two minutes.” Justin laughs and kisses you before running off to the balcony.
By the time you walk out there, Justin is leaning on the cement barrier, facing east.
You go back to bed at eight, setting the alarm clock for ten. You need those two hours of sleep. It takes you a while to go to sleep, you’re too worried.
At ten you wake up and take a shower, Justin is still asleep when you walk back out.
“Justin.” You shake him awake and walk to the bureau.
“Uh-hmm?”
“Get up and shower, we need to go.”
“Go where?”
“The restaurant.”
“Huh?”
“Come on. You have to be there by two.”
“Why two?”
“Because that’s the time I set it for. Come on.” You pull the bedspread off of him and he finally gets out of bed. “I’m going ahead to make sure everything’s done right.”
“Okay, fine.” He walks into the bathroom.
“I’m leaving you directions to the place. Be there at two on the dot and wear the suit.”
“In 90 degree weather?” He pokes his head out of the door. “You’re shitting me!”
“What are you a scat queen? It’s not that far, just three block. You’ll make it.”
“I’d better or I’m suing you!”
“Right...” When you leave he’s still in the shower.
You’re getting tired of Brian’s secrets. You decide to humor him and hope you don’t have to wait long.
When he woke up and talked about the restaurant you were stunned. Who the hell wears a suit on 90 fucking degree heat?
But it’s what Brian wants so you just do it.
You look at the suit hanging in the closet and realize that there is a red and white rose in the outside pocket. You smile and wonder where he got them without you noticing.
Finally, you’re dressed and looking at the directions. You’ve probably passed the place a billion times since you got here. It seems nice enough, hopefully you’ll be inside and he’ll already have ordered a cold bottle of wine.
Five minutes later, you’re standing in the lobby of another hotel. You walk to the receptionist desk; before you can say a word she begins escorting you to the courtyard. You think, Okay Brian, this is a little much. You turn the corner and stop at the threshold breathless.
You had been looking at your watch since 1:30. You talk to Michael to try to occupy yourself, but for once you don’t have anything to talk about. He keeps saying “everything will be just fine, but you still feel yourself melting into a panic. What if he got lost or just decided not to come.
You about to call him when a gasp echoes through the courtyard and a hush comes over everyone. You look up and see Justin standing there in complete shock, and feel your face soften.
Jen walks over to him and takes his arm in hers. He snaps out of it and walks down the aisle. He finally makes it to the steps and joins you in front of the reverend, holding your hand, as if that’s his only support. “Surprise, Justin,” you whisper and grasp his hand tightly. His smile has never seemed so bright.
You couldn’t have recreated the scene with paint or graphite. Brian is at the end of the aisle standing next to Michael and Gus (he’s so old). On the other side of the arch are JR and Daphne.
All of your closest friends are sitting when you first enter but stand when they see you. Your mom comes out of nowhere and takes your arm. You feel your eyes begin to sting, bit you can’t cry, not yet.
“Surprise, Justin,” Brian says and you can only reply with “Thank you.”
The reverend finally get to the vows, but Brian cuts him off. “If it’s all the same to you. I want to tell him what I’ve had memorized for three years.” The reverend nods and you feel the first few tears dangerously close to falling. “We’ve been through a lot since the night we met under the lamppost outside Babylon. Gus’s birth that night, Jen trying to turn you straight.” He turns to her. “We forgive you by the way.” You can’t help but laugh like everyone else. “Then there was New York, the first time; Chris Hobbs and the bashing; the recovery, Rage, Ian-”
“Ethan.” You’re still correcting him after all these years.
“-The fiddler; Stockwell; starting Kinnetik, almost losing my shirt, financially, for the third time; the Pink Posse; cancer; the Liberty Ride; Rage the movie- well that was more of you and Mikey-; you coming back and leaving; the bombing, the house ; our almost marriage and New York. But through that and the many other things that we’ve gone through we’re here, preparing to sentence ourselves to an eternity of more situations like the one’s listed above, but be willing to do it together, which we’re pretty good at.”
“The night I met you, I was planning and almost never seeing you again, as Michael explained to you the night after, but you were persistent and now I’m here, ready to do something I thought was a farce. I’m already doing something I thought I was unable to do, so why not one more thing, just to freak everyone out.
“When I say “I do” today, it’s to everything he says and more as long as it makes you happy.”
The tears that had been falling during his speech, he wipes away and you notice how his eyes are also glistening and you can’t help but smile and nod. “I do want to be happy and I want to be with you until the end of time. I...just... do!”
You know there’s no need for the reverend. You’re already married.
At the reception, you dance, greet people, cut the cake, all the “straight” things that you swore you’d never do.
You and Justin sit at the head table as everyone dances enjoying the clumsy dance that Gus and JR are doing when you feel a squeeze on your hand. “How did you know, I’d say yes?” he asks.
“I didn’t,” you reply, “I took a chance.”
“Like the song. “Go ahead, push your luck, Find out how much love the world can hold.””
“Yeah, like that. And apparently the world can hold more than I’ve ever known.” You hope you’re not like this permanently. “I love you.”
“I love you too, though these pants are getting a little uncomfortable.”
You smile and before the next song has begun, you’re in him, raw.
Forever two teenage boys.
**********
The End