Hearts, Shamrocks, Taxes and Thee!

Brian was in his office at Kinnetik, fingers flying over his keyboard as he reviewed, tweaked and approved the latest holiday campaigns. It was mid-April, Brian took a break from his labors and sat back in his chair to contemplate the past several months and the holidays that went with them.

Brian’s ire began with Halloween and the thousands of over-sugared children running about the streets which he believed were specifically put on earth to annoy the hell out of him. If it wasn’t for his own son and his insistent partner, Brian wouldn’t acknowledge the so-called holiday at all. Brian smiled to himself, he had to admit Gus did look cute in his Batman costume. And with JR at his side dressed up as Robin, the kids did make a dynamic duo.

Thanksgiving made Brian roll his eyes. It was just another excuse to gorge oneself and then berate oneself for overindulging. He would gladly overlook the holiday but he’d rather not incur the wrath of one Debbie Novotny-Horvath. Nope, Brian was no fool. He politely made the rounds with Justin, going from one home to another, carefully nibbling on food someone placed in front of him so as not to offend the host. Dinner with Debbie, dessert with his son and the munchers, and coffee with Jennifer and Molly. Brian was an expert at making ‘nice.’

Christmas wasn’t a very happy time for Brian, the Brian of the past. Growing up in the Kinney household, Christmas meant an anemic looking roast, his father’s drunken ravings about a piss-poor holiday bonus (which his father spent on booze and whatever woman he could convince to give him a tumble) and gifts he could neither use or ever wanted. Not to mention his mother’s religious rants and his sister trying to suck up to their father. Times had changed, though. Thanks to Justin and Gus, Brian almost looked forward to Christmastime. Almost. Brian snickered to himself thinking about the first time Justin placed a wreath on the loft door. Justin was so excited that he had hung it on the wrong part of the door. Brian rescued the wreath in the nick of time before it got crushed.

New Years was one holiday Brian could appreciate. As owner of Babylon, the New Year's Eve festivities set the tone of prosperity for the whole year. Brian enjoyed popping in, standing on the catwalk with Justin at his side, and as the clock struck twelve, enjoying a long satisfying kiss. In his forties, Brian had long ceased shaking his booty on the dance floor. He preferred shaking it in private with Justin.

February brought Valentine’s Day, Brian mused with an involuntary shudder. All those blood red hearts and cupids hanging from the ceiling and taped to every window and door. He hated it. Just another reason to separate heterosexual men from their money. If it were up to Brian, he would ignore the day altogether. But it wasn’t up to him. He had a lover, a partner, whom Brian had dedicated himself to keeping. If an occasional box of chocolate or a sappy card kept the sun in Justin’s sunshine smile then so be it. Never let it be said that Brian Kinney couldn’t learn by his mistakes.

St. Patrick’s Day, what could be said about maniacal looking Leprechauns and shamrocks taking the place of the hearts and cupids. And then there was the bilious colored beer. It made Brian’s Irish blood boil. However, to keep the peace, Brian acknowledged the day by wearing an elegant emerald green silk tie. A gift from Justin, who swore the color brought out the green in Brian’s hazel eyes. Seeing the tie on Brian, wearing it with his black on black suit, did something for Justin. Later at home, Brian reaped the rewards of a pot of gold sitting at the end of his rainbow.

April was a queer month, no pun intended. Millions of people around the world celebrated Passover and Easter, both of which by some magical formula that Brian couldn’t fathom, never fell on the same date each year and could in fact be celebrated in March. He rarely paid attention unless forced into participating in egg decorating and Easter basket shopping. Not really forced; no one can force Brian Kinney into doing something he didn’t want to do. Coerced, is more like it. Coerced, cajoled and possibly bribed. Brian really didn’t mind. He secretly loved watching his boys bond over hard-boiled eggs and chocolate bunnies.

One year Brian made the mistake of confessing to his boys that he liked Peeps but only well ripened blue and purple Peeps. It didn’t matter if the Peep in question was a bunny or a chick as long as it was blue or purple. He made Gus and Justin swear under penalty of extreme repercussions never to tell a living soul and they never did. But every year since then, on the appropriate day and served on a small silver dish was one blue Peep and one purple Peep sitting on Brian’s desk in the loft. To be consumed with a large cup of coffee and in private.

But what made April truly worthy of celebration for Brian was tax day. Yes, April 15th, the bane of existence for most of the working populace in the United States. What brought fear, loathing, and trepidation for most brought peace of mind for Brian Kinney. Brian Kinney was a wealthy man, monetarily speaking, which comes as no surprise. However, Brian Kinney was an honest wealthy man. An honest wealthy man who took care of his family and employees as well as making generous donations to various local charities. His business acumen, wise investments and his well placed trust in those around him made Brian a very wealthy man. Each year by the end of February Ted had Brian and Kinnetik’s taxes prepared and ready to declare. More often than not, Brian received a refund, but if he had to pay, Brian was quick to write out the check. No apologies, no regrets.

“Brian, we’re ready,” Ted’s voice said over the intercom breaking into Brian’s reverie.

“On my way,” Brian replied.

Brian saved his work then shut down his computer. He stood and straightened his orange tie, another gift from Justin and an inside joke that they shared. He then strolled into the main conference room of Kinnetik. He was greeted by the smiling faces of Kinnetik’s employees, a wonderful spread of delicacies, many bottles of champagne and non-alcoholic bubbly, and by his three main supporters, Cynthia, Ted and Justin.

“Speech!” Ted yelled out as Brian entered the room. There were cheers and applause.

“I’m not good with words,” Brian began.

“Unless they’re on foam core and in a large font,” someone shouted out, getting a laugh in return from those in the room and a nod from the man himself. Champagne corks popped and glasses were filled before Brian continued.

“I’ll make it short and sweet,” Brian said with a smirk as he pulled Justin close to his side. “To another successful year...Happy Tax Day!”

“Happy Tax Day!” everyone repeated loudly, ringing in the one “holiday” Brian truly enjoyed celebrating.

-end-

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