Rage Over Hollywood

Chapter 2

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Justin glanced at this watch as he left the studio. It was the first day since he'd started the job that he'd been able to leave before 9, but the reason for the shorter day managed to overshadow any happiness he should have felt. If he went straight back to the apartment, he'd have time for a shower and something to eat before he called Brian.

On the other hand, a quick drink or two could probably help him unwind just as much. He'd still be back in time to call, and he could always shower later. Chances were good that he'd need another after talking to Brian anyway.

"You going downtown?"

Justin turned to see a dark haired man looking at him. "Huh?"

The man shrugged, flashing a smile that would rival Justin's on his best days. "I thought maybe we could share a cab." He paused for a second. "And during the ride, I might even be able to convince you to have a drink with me."

Light grey eyes twinkled mischievously from beneath the shock of dark hair that fell across his forehead. The man was good looking, no doubt about that, and Justin's cock twitched slightly as though to further convince him of that fact. "Uh," he hedged, glancing back toward the studio gates. "I don't think…"

"Don't tell me," the guy said with a warm chuckle. "You don't socialize with anyone from the studio. Lucky for both of us, I don't work here. I was just dropping off something for a friend. A female friend. A strictly platonic, she's-like-the-sister-I-never-had kind of friend."

Justin had to smile at the man's teasing demeanor. "That's not what I was going to say," he replied, still smiling. "But that, too."

The man cocked his head to one side and regarded Justin with playfully narrowed eyes. "So, you don't socialize, but the reason you don't want to share a cab is…?"

"I'm involved with someone," Justin told him. "A male someone. A far-from-platonic, nothing-at-all-like-the-sister-I-have kind of someone."

The man laughed genuinely at Justin's comeback and held out his hand. "Steve Barlow."

Justin returned the handshake with a smile. "Justin Taylor."

"So, Justin," Steve mused. "Is your far-from-platonic someone picking you up?"

Justin laughed at that. "I highly doubt it. It's a long drive from Pittsburgh just to pick me up from work."

"Ahhh," Steve smiled knowingly. "A long distance relationship."

"For a short time," Justin concurred. "My job here is only temporary." Aside from the people at the studio and the nice elderly lady who resided in the apartment next to his, he hadn't had much chance to really meet anyone since arriving in California. Steve's warm personality and easy nature made Justin feel comfortable in his presence and he realized how much he missed just having someone to talk to who wasn't being paid to listen.

"You're working on the Rage movie."

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

Steve laughed lightly. "Are you kidding? Rage is our first openly gay comic and it's being made into a feature film."

"You've read our comic?" Justin asked with a pleased smile.

"Every issue," Steve replied, nodding. "That's where I recognized your name from."

"That's great. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"So, how about that drink?" Steve suggested once more. "You can tell me what inspired you to create Rage."

Justin considered the offer as Steve hailed an approaching cab. "Uh, sure," he finally said with a smile. "Though I'm not sure you'd find the story of our inspiration all that interesting."

Steve leaned past Justin and opened the cab's back door. "Let me be the judge of that," he said with a winning smile.

After giving the driver their destination, Steve settled back in his seat beside Justin. "So how long have you been out here?"

"Almost three weeks, now," Justin replied. "You live here in L.A.?"

"Yeah," Steve answered with a smile. "I'm not here much these days, but I still call it home."

"You travel a lot?"

The dark haired man nodded. "I'm in sales."

"A traveling salesman," Justin said, an amused smile lighting his features.

Steve laughed. "I won't be knocking on doors with a briefcase of encyclopedias anytime soon," he assured the smaller man. "The company I work for designs custom computer systems for health care facilities. It's my job to visit hospitals across the country and convince them that they can increase their level of patient care by implementing our system."

"Really," Justin said, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Less time spent charting and what not is more time spent with the patients," Steve explained matter-of-factly.

"I guess that makes sense," Justin mused. He'd never really thought of the business end of running a hospital before.

"Technology is changing all the time," Steve went on. "They have to change with it or risk losing patients to better equipped facilities."

The cab stopped at the address Steve had given and the taller man paid the driver. Justin got out and looked at the bright neon sign above the door. "Aftershock?" he asked, raising one eyebrow in Steve's direction.

The other man just laughed as he led the way to the door. "When you live in earthquake country, you learn to make light of it where you can," he explained. "Where do you hang out in Pittsburgh?"

"Babylon," Justin said without thinking as they made their way into the noisy club.

"Babylon," Steve repeated in a you-have-got-to-be-shitting-me tone. "You have a gay night club with a name that oozes biblical reference and you have the nerve to make fun of Aftershock?"

The way the grey eyes sparkled left no doubt that the man was teasing and Justin smiled back. "You're right," he admitted, scrunching up his nose as he realized how silly it was. "Aftershock's a great name."

Steve laughed and grabbed his arm to lead him through the crowd to the bar. Once there, he looked at Justin questioningly.

"Beer, please," Justin said.

Steve nodded and ordered two. Handing one bottle to Justin, he turned, his back to the mahogany bar, and surveyed the crowded dance floor. "Every club in every city," he mused, taking a long draw.

Justin nodded, taking a small swallow of his own drink. "Yeah, I guess gay's gay wherever you go." As his blue eyes flitted across the men nearby, he couldn't help but notice how many were looking in his direction. A small smirk touched his lips as he realized that he could have his pick.

Catching the look, Steve nudged him with an elbow. "See something you like?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Maybe," Justin murmured, making eye contact with a dirty blond about twenty feet away.

Steve looked at the stranger and saw the almost imperceptible invitation he was leveling in Justin's direction. "I'll watch your beer," he offered with a smile.

Justin flashed him a slightly embarrassed smile and tried to will his growing erection away. "That's OK. We're here for a drink, remember?"

Steve's eyes flitted from Justin to the stranger and back again. "You worried about your boyfriend? The two of you monogamous?"

Justin snorted at that. "Hardly," he replied with a shake of his head. "Brian and I don't need that; we both know that anonymous sex doesn't mean anything."

Steve regarded him thoughtfully. "Tell me something, Justin. If you'd come in here by yourself, would you have taken that guy up on his invitation?"

Justin considered his response as he glanced back toward the obviously still interested blond. "Maybe," he admitted.

"I know what it's like to be in a strange city. Traveling salesman, remember?"

The man's teasing had the desired effect and Justin laughed lightly. "Yeah."

"And while I may have had ulterior motives when I initially invited you for a drink, your anonymous sex comment put an end to that." He detected Justin tensing at the words and hurried to elaborate. "We already know each other's names and what we do for a living. Kinda throws the whole anonymity thing off kilter, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Justin replied with a relieved smile. "I guess it does at that."

"And while I wouldn't turn down a trip to the backroom if you were to offer, I'm still interested in hearing all about Rage. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the impression having both is not an option."

Justin regarded him for a moment. The man was hot, there was no doubt about that. He'd felt the physical attraction from the first smile. The problem was, he found himself enjoying Steve's company and someone to talk to had become somewhat of a rarity in his life. He wasn't willing to throw that away for the sake of a fuck.

Even if he did imagine it would be one great fuck.

"You're not wrong," he finally said gently but firmly.

Steve took the answer in stride, even smiling in understanding. "Well, then, I'll take what I can get." He glanced over to where the dirty blond was dancing with a red-headed twink while still indiscreetly keeping an eye on Justin. "But I won't have your full attention as long as blondie there is practically salivating at your feet, so why not put him out of his misery and then we can resume both our drink and our talk."

Justin gazed at him warily for a moment. Seeing nothing but sincerity in the clear, grey eyes, he finally smiled. "Watch my beer," he said, handing the bottle over. With a barely there nod, he signaled to the blond and headed toward the back of the club.

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Brian was at his desk when Ted brought in the latest artworks for the Lexington account. After looking at them for a moment, he looked up with one brow cocked. "These are for shit, Theodore."

Ted sighed. "I know they're not exactly what you were after, but Jeffries is having a hard time visualizing exactly what it is you're going for, Bri. I think you need to go talk to him yourself."

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off the headache that was threatening. "Yeah, ok. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"You OK?" Ted asked, concern furrowing his brow.

Looking up again, Brian smirked. "I'm fabulous."

Ted looked at him for a moment before nodding. Picking up the disastrous design boards, he said, "Too bad Justin wasn't here. They would have been right the first time."

Brian leaned back in his chair. It was true. With even the vaguest of details, Justin was often able to capture exactly what Brian had in mind and make it come alive on the computer screen.

It was only one of the reasons he missed having the young artist around.

"Yeah, well," Brian said, getting to his feet. "Justin's not here. And if Jeffries wants to continue to be, he'd better get his head out of his ass and start working up to the standard that's expected around here."

"I'll be sure to pass that along," Ted quipped.

"Don't bother," Brian shot over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "I'll tell him myself."

An hour later, when Jeffries was shaking in his Big Q shoes and Brian was more or less satisfied with the direction the artwork was taking, he left the art department and headed back to his office. He wasn't there five minutes when Cynthia buzzed through saying he had a call.

Picking up the receiver, he was surprised to hear Reverend Tom's voice on the other end.

"Reverend Tom," he said with a smirk, leaning back in the chair. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I had lunch with your mother today," the minister had answered.

"Lucky you," Brian quipped. "I suppose she talked you into calling? Figured it's not too late to save this poor sinner's soul?"

"Actually, she has no idea I'm calling. This isn't about her, Brian." He was silent for a moment. "She told me about the cancer," he finally admitted quietly.

Brian closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to control his temper. She couldn't talk to her own son without pointing out that he was going to spend eternity in Hell, but she could discuss his personal business with her gay minister? No, not just her gay minister, but his fucking former trick?

"I wanted to see how you're doing," the reverend's voice brought him out of his mental tirade.

"I'm fucking fabulous," Brian assured him arrogantly. "Just like always, so you can save your concern for someone who needs it, Rev." With a sarcastic smirk, he concluded the call. "Bye bye."

He hung up the phone and sat looking at it for a moment. He had half a mind to call his mother and tell her to mind her own fucking business. She probably assumed the reverend was a safe enough person to tell. There was no possible way he ran in the same circles as her perverted, demented son. He allowed a derisive snort at that. If only she knew.

At least he wasn't concerned about the Reverend telling anyone else. The last thing he needed was news of his fake ball traveling up and down Liberty Avenue for the next six months. It was bad enough he was rarely seen at the baths or in the backroom anymore and when he was spotted in the latter, it was usually with Justin. If it became known that the great Brian Kinney had fallen prey to a disease as common as cancer, his reputation might never recover.

The very thought gave him pause to consider the status of that reputation. While he'd never consciously set out to tone down the tricking, it had nonetheless happened. At first, of course, it was because he just couldn't get it up. When he finally did, it was Justin he wanted to share it with, not half the population of gay Pittsburgh. Now, Justin was miles away in California and Brian could count on his fingers the number of trips he'd made to the backroom in the last three weeks.

It was definitely time he did something about that. Grabbing his jacket and his briefcase, he left the office.

"I'm leaving for the day," he said curtly to Cynthia. "If anyone else calls, take a fucking message."

"Sure," she said, frowning slightly. "Anything else I can do?"

He smirked at her. "And here I thought I wasn't your type."

"More like I'm not yours," she retorted without hesitation.

He managed an amused smile at that. One of the reasons he valued Cynthia so much was her ability to take whatever shit he dished out, often volleying it right back at him. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his voice a little less sharp than it had been.

She returned the smile along with a small nod. "Right, boss."

Leaving Kinnetik, he got in the car and drove until he found himself idling outside the Liberty Baths. Looking up at the dingy building, he thought about how long it had been since he'd darkened that particular doorway. He had no doubt he'd be able to find someone there he hadn't already fucked. For some strange reason, he found himself unwilling to abandon the 'one fuck only' policy even with Justin thousands of miles away.

Justin.

Thoughts of his lover had him wondering what the Hell he was doing sitting outside a rundown establishment like the baths in the middle of the day. As a guy in his mid-twenties exited the building, the corresponding twitch in his dick gave him his answer. He was still a hot, horny gay man whose live-in lover was on the other side of the country. It was either tricking or abstinence.

With a smirk, he turned off the car, got out and headed for the door.

Brian Kinney just didn't do abstinence.

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True to his word, Steve was waiting at the bar when Justin returned from the backroom.

"Was he as hot as he looked?" Steve asked with a smile.

Justin just shrugged and picked up his beer, downing it in three large swallows. "He was Ok, I guess," he finally answered.

"You hungry?" Steve asked. "There's a deli across the street that serves a good corned beef on rye." He jerked his head toward the dance floor. "And we could actually hear ourselves think."

"Good idea," Justin agreed. He didn't want to admit that the place was making him feel a little homesick. He'd been thinking of Brian the whole time he'd been fucking the blond in the backroom and the music only reminded him how much he wished he was dancing with Brian's body pressed against his.

Steve noticed the change in his demeanor and frowned. "You OK?"

"Yeah. Let's just get out of here."

Steve's frown deepened but he didn't say any more as he followed Justin toward the door.

"Something happen back there?" he asked as they approached the deli.

"Huh?" Justin asked, obviously distracted. Glancing back in the direction of Aftershock, he finally understood. "No," he assured him with a small shake of his head. "Nothing like that."

"Good." Steve replied with a nod as he opened the door to the deli. "'Cause I could still go back and kick his ass, you know." His words made the blond laugh, just like he'd hoped they would. "No trouble, whatsoever."

Justin was still smiling as they sat down in an empty booth. "Is that part of your job?" he teased. "Drumming up new business for these hospitals you visit?"

Steve shrugged with a mischievous grin. "Not usually," he admitted. "But I'd make an exception in this case."

Justin's smile faltered. "Thanks," he said somewhat uncomfortably.

"Just part of my service to the community. After all, we can't have visitors getting the wrong impression of our fair town now, can we?"

The very idea of Los Angeles being referred to as a fair town was enough to put the smile back on Justin's face. "No, we wouldn't want to tarnish L.A.'s sterling reputation," he quipped sarcastically.

"Exactly," Steve agreed with an exaggerated nod.

"It wasn't him," Justin sighed, turning more serious. "It was just …"

"That he wasn't who you really wanted to be with?" Steve suggested helpfully when Justin failed to finish the sentence.

Justin looked down at the table, somewhat embarrassed. "Yeah." The sound of Steve chuckling had him looking up again, eyes narrowed. "I'm glad I can be such a source of amusement," he said with as much of a sneer as his country club upbringing would allow.

"I'm sorry," Steve offered, shaking his head to expel the laughter. "I'm not laughing at you, honest."

Justin raised one eyebrow skeptically and Steve relented. "Ok, I was, but not in the way you think. I just wasn't expecting a man who just came out of Aftershock's backroom to blush from such a simple admission."

Any retort Justin was about to make was cut short as a waitress arrived to take their order. As soon as she left, Steve picked up the conversation. "So, tell me all about the inception of Rage."

Justin recounted how he and Michael had been fooling around that night at Babylon and how Michael had hit him with the idea for a new comic the next morning. "He was still upset about the death of Captain Astro, so I figured it couldn't hurt to help him out if that's what he wanted to do."

Steve was nodding. "You and Michael are friends?"

"He's Brian's best friend," Justin answered in a tone that suggested he'd had the words drilled into his head. "We were more acquaintances than anything," Justin mused thoughtfully. "I think maybe working on Rage changed that."

"You think?"

The waitress brought their sandwiches and Justin took a bite of his before continuing. "I guess I never really thought about it until recently," he admitted. He didn't want to get into what had happened at Brett's party or the way Michael had tried to help him afterward. Coming to a conclusion in his mind, he nodded. "Yeah, we're friends now."

"So, you decided to help Michael. Then what? How did you come up with the character of Rage?"

Justin hesitated only slightly before answering, unsure as to how lame it might sound that they'd based the character on Michael's best friend and his lover. "We pretty much modeled him after Brian."

Steve smiled. "So it's no coincidence that JT, the love of Rage's life, bears a striking resemblance to a certain young artist?"

Justin felt the colour rising in his cheeks once again, but couldn't contain an enigmatic smile. "No one said anything about JT being the love of Rage's life."

"No one had to. I think it's obvious to everyone except maybe Rage."

Justin's smile widened. "You're obviously very perceptive, Mr. Barlow."

"Though, I get the impression from some of the storylines that Zephyr isn't all that crazy about it."

Justin's smile wavered. "That was true at one point, I think," he admitted. "But not anymore."

"Oh?"

Justin shrugged. "Zephyr's accepted that he's not what Br..Rage needs in a partner. More importantly, I think he's realized that Rage isn't what he really wants either."

"And what about JT?" Steve asked after a moment. "Is he getting what he wants and needs?"

Justin was well aware that they weren't just talking about comic book characters and thought the question rather personal coming from someone he'd known such a short time, but the genuine concern in Steve's eyes lowered his defenses somewhat and he found himself answering before he even realized he was doing it. "For the most part," he said with a small shrug. "Nothing's perfect, especially not in Gayopolis."

"What about Los Angeles? Is working on a movie everything you thought it would be?" He picked up one half of his sandwich and started to eat while Justin considered his answer.

"I don't know. It's certainly different than anything I've done before, but…" He allowed his voice to trail off, not wanting to sound ungrateful for the opportunity he'd been given.

"But?"

He chewed slowly while thinking about how to describe what he was feeling. "Some of it just doesn't make any sense to me. I mean, I'm an artist; it's what I love to do. Since I've been out here, I haven't drawn a single thing to do with the movie. Richard says our job is to co-ordinate and give the art department direction, but it would be so much easier for me to just draw the mock-ups myself, you know? Sometimes we have to send them back two or three times before they're good enough."

"Sounds frustrating," Steve commiserated.

"Not half as frustrating as the delays," Justin sighed. "Boards go missing, costumes get screwed up, sets end up being completely different than the way they were designed. Today, there was some sort of problem with the computer system."

"I guess there are setbacks involved with any project of that magnitude."

Justin didn't believe they were merely normal problems, but he didn't say anything. He knew Steve had a friend who worked at the studio and didn't want anything he said to get back to Brett or the producers. He'd tell Brian about it when he talked to him, but he didn't know Steve well enough to voice his suspicions.

Thinking of talking to Brian had him glancing at his watch. "Shit," he cursed softly. "I have to go."

"Hot date?" Steve teased.

"The hottest," Justin replied with a smirk. "I promised Brian I'd call before it got too late there."

"The time difference can be a bitch," Steve agreed, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "You live near the studio?"

"A couple of blocks," Justin replied with a nod. "I'll just take a cab back."

"I'll join you."

"I thought you lived downtown," Justin said with a small frown.

Steve grinned. "Not too far from here, but my car's at the studio."

Justin's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Then why did you take a taxi?"

Getting to his feet, Steve thought he might as well come clean. "I figured I had a better chance offering to share a cab than offering you a ride in my car." He paused for a moment as Justin stood up. "Just for the record, this isn't at all what I had in mind, but I'm glad it worked out this way."

"Yeah," Justin smiled with some relief. "Me, too."

"Listen, I'm having lunch with Sandy tomorrow at the studio. We do it every Friday. Why don't you join us?"

"You don't think she'd mind?" Justin asked.

"Mind?" He laughed warmly. "She'd be thrilled. She's always telling me I need fewer fuck buddies and more friends."

The fact that Steve was willing to consider him a friend gave Justin a warm feeling. Aside from Daphne and the Liberty Ave. gang, he had few real friends he could call his own. While Steve looked to be in his mid to late twenties, he was probably the closest he had to a male friend his own age. "Daphne's always telling me the same thing," he said with a laugh.

"Your sister?" Steve asked as they made their way toward the cash register.

"My best friend," Justin corrected.

Steve paid the bill and ushered the younger man outside to hail a cab. "Let's get you home so you can call that superhero of yours," he teased. "Tomorrow you can meet Sandy and we'll all trade best friend stories."

Justin smiled as a cab pulled up. "Deal."

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