Painting the Boat

“I told you I’m sorry, JT,” Brian was apologizing as the guys settled themselves down in front of their fake fireplace. He thought the apology might be working too since the kid made no obvious objection as Brian encircled him with his arm. “It was an honest mistake. It’s actually kind of funny, Baby. Someday you’ll think it’s funny too.”

“But I do not think it’s funny right now, Brian. This is a job I do not want to do. It won’t be my best work because it’s not something I want to do,” Justin grumbled. “I like to put my heart and soul into my work. This might not be any good at all. And you actually volunteered me for this too …”

“I did not volunteer you for this job,” Brian protested. “Or at least I didn’t think I was volunteering you for this job even if I did. Red Herring invited me to lunch on a business matter and Jim Swann came too. I didn’t know why but they’re both pretty big accounts so what the heck. When they told me they wanted to get the Mallard’s boat painted as an anniversary gift for them, I thought right away of Bill Erskine. He’s really good. He mostly paints houses and buildings and stuff but I know he’s also done a couple of small boats - so I told them I had a suggestion for them. They asked if he’d do it - before I even mentioned Bill’s name to them - and I told them jokingly that I’d talk him into it for them if necessary.”

“Gee whiz, Kinney,” Justin had to smile. “You’re always trying to get people to do stuff they don’t want to do. I just can’t understand why anybody would do that all the time.”

“Cut it out, Twink,” Brian interrupted. “I knew Bill would be glad to get the chance to do that job. A chance to work with waterproof paint and stuff like that. A real challenge for him. Bill’s an artist in his own way too. And there’d also be a big fee and lots of professional exposure too. He’d jump at the offer without any pressure from me.”

“So when did it dawn on you …?” Justin wondered.

“Well I guess it was when they said they thought the Mallards would want to put the boat in their game room,” Brian recalled. “That got me thinking. But then they went on to tell me that they really wanted you to do the painting for them - and they thought it would be better to talk to me first – cause they know me better than they know you – but I think now the whole reason for the meeting was to get you to do their painting for them. They’ve seen some of your stuff and really liked it – and they thought since you’ve actually sailed on the yacht a couple of times …”

“That’s exactly the problem, Brian,” Justin explained. “I’ve been on that boat and I hate that boat. How am I gonna keep that hate out of the damn painting?”

“But the boat never did anything to you, Baby,” Brian told him. “Like it never sank while you were on it – or anything like that.”

“So maybe that wasn’t very much of a favor either, Bri,” Justin decided. “If the boat sank, we would probably have been able to swim to shore – and missed part of the cruise.”

“You could have, Baby,” Brian grinned. “Because you’re such a strong swimmer – but I probably wouldn’t have made it. You know I’m not that good of a swimmer. Then you’d be sitting here in front of this neat fireplace – all by yourself.”

“Or maybe with somebody else, Kinney,” Justin grinned back. “Somebody who doesn’t get me stuck in some crazy situation - like doing a painting of some old boat for some old game-room.”

“Well I said I was sorry, Sunshine,” Brian purred as he pulled the twink closer and ran his fingers through the blond locks. “What else can I do?”

“Well …” Justin seemed to be thinking – but Brian anticipated what he was probably about to say – and apparently correctly too - because the conversation paused at this point – with no protest from either of the guys - for a considerable period.

It was Justin who broke the silence when it was finally broken. “You know what I think, Bri?” he began. “If I have to paint the Mallard’s boat, I think I should see that yacht in motion. I think I’ll suggest to the Mallards that they have a party on board and I can sit on the shore – like maybe in Clemente Park. They can sail the thing back and forth in front of me several times so that I can maybe capture its spirit. You, of course, could be on the cruise but I would have to be on shore so I’d have to miss the joy of actually cruising the three rivers with all you guys.”

“But that could mean you might miss the spaghetti too, Sweetheart,” Brian reminded him. “Because somebody on board just might eat all the spaghetti – even if he didn’t want to - and leave nothing for you or your doggie-bag either.”

“Unless I mentioned to Mrs. Mallard that I think and paint better when I’m eating,” Justin supposed. “And get her to pack me a lunch to eat on shore. That way I could eat my spaghetti and miss the cruise too. And I bet I could fix it up about the doggie-bag too. I’ll think about it.”

“And what am I supposed to do while you’re ‘thinking about it’?” Brian wanted to know.

“I guess,” Justin told him. “Whatever you think appropriate…”

Which seemed to suit Brian well enough - and the discussion paused again for another while as he did what he thought appropriate – and an observer would have been hard-pressed to believe that the guys were in fact – kind of arguing.”

“OK, Brian,” Justin finally came up for air. “I’ll do the painting – and it won’t be any good – because I can’t really put my heart into it – but it will look good to the Mallards. I’ll be the only one who knows how bad it is – and I don’t get to the Mallard’s game-room very often – so I won’t have to see it.”

“Unless I suggest to the Mallards – who will just love the picture of their very own boat in their very own game-room,” Brian posited, “that they might want you to paint their game-room to hang on the boat. There’s a perfect spot on the wall of the dining cabin for that.”

“Brian Kinney,” Justin complained. “I’m trying to make up with you and you’re trying to keep an argument going. You are a hateful person, BK. That’s what I think. Hateful.”

“Well you said that if I didn’t make it to shore when the boat sank you might be sitting here in front of the fireplace with somebody else,” Brian issued his own complaint. “That’s what you said. I guess that isn’t hateful.”

“Well you should have known I didn’t mean it, Bri,” Justin cooed. “I wouldn’t want to sit on some dumb floor watching some dumb fireplace with anybody else but you – and you ought to know that too.”

“And why is that, Taylor?” Brian teased. “Am I kinda special or something?”

“Yeah you are, Kinney,” Justin admitted. “And I guess I love you – even if you did threaten to eat all the spaghetti on the boat and leave me starving on the shore. Yeah – even if you did that. I still love you.”

“Well you should have known I didn’t mean it, JT,” Brian would have cooed – if, that is, Brian were given to cooing – which he wasn’t. “Even if I liked spaghetti – which I don’t – and I wasn’t watching my carbs – which I am - I would still never do that to you – and you ought to know that too.”

“And why is that, Bri,” Justin teased. “Am I kinda special or something?”

“Yep you are, Baby,” Brian told him, “really special. You’re the very meanest critter in the universe when you’re hungry.”

“Brian Kinney ….” Justin demanded.

“I love you, Kiddo,” Brian gave up. “I love you. I love you. I love you.. How’s that?”

“I think I’m getting hungry, Brian,” Justin told him.

“Well we better get up right now and get you something to eat Baby – before you become the very meanest critter in the universe,” Brian suggested - while at the same time pulling the kid up onto his lap and encircling him with both arms. “We absolutely do not want you to be hungry.”

“In a little while maybe, Bri,” Justin decided, dropping his head onto Brian’s shoulder. “Not right now.”

And the way things developed, it did not seem that Justin was very hungry at all. At least he didn’t mention it again.
 

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