New Account

Part 2

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Going back to the guestroom, Brian picked up the phone, meaning to call Justin until he realized that it was almost five in the morning on the East Coast. It would have to wait.

Damnit, this was why he didn't want to fall in love anymore after that first time around with Keith. It was complicated, painful, messy.

It made things too fucking difficult.

So as it seemed to stand now, Keith was convinced that he would get tired of Justin at some point in the fairly near future and that then they would basically pick up where they had left off in 1986.

The pisser was that Brian had to admit, at least to himself, that he still found Keith to be amazing—smart, handsome, accomplished and one of the genuinely nicest damn people he'd ever met. Even his soon to be ex-wife wanted him to be happy, for Christ's sake. How many men could claim that?

Alright, bringing him out to California was tricky, sure it was, manipulative, but fuck me—if he wanted something as much as Keith seemed to want him he'd do whatever it took.

Hell—he HAD done whatever it took. The loft was still bare in areas where he hadn't replaced everything he'd sold to finance the anti-Stockwell ads.

You do what you have to do.

He began to wonder about that, now that he had a few minutes to give that some thought. What the Hell did Patty know about him and Keith and when did she know it?

How long had she known that her husband preferred men and why the fuck was she so obliging about it?

He searched his brain and couldn't think of a single women he knew who'd take the news as well as the soon to be ex-Mrs. White seemed to be. It was damn strange.

And Justin, what was he going to do about him? They'd only been back together six months or so, it had only been two months since he'd moved back into the loft and things had been going so Goddamned well between them. Justin was about to start back at PIFA, he'd been doing a lot of freelancing for some of the other ad firms around and had even gotten a couple of commissions from private clients who wanted the unique quality he brought to portraits. His self-confidence was as high as it had ever been before the bashing made a big dent in that part of his life and Brian knew that he loved the twat—he'd even almost come out and said it. Almost.

Justin knew, though. He did.

There had been that night a few months ago when they had just regained their breath after a couple hours of incredible sex, Justin pressed against him, both of them hot and sweating and reeking—he had told Brian that he loved him and Brian almost—almost returned it. He hadn't, not quite, but Justin had looked at his face, burst out laughing and just said, "You're busted. You are sooo busted."

Brian's answer had been a less than romantic "fuck you", but he was laughing when he said it. He knew.

They both knew.

Since then they had been pretty much monogamous. OK, maybe not 100%, but pretty damn close. He could count the slips on one hand and that was something he'd never thought would happen again, not since he and Keith had imploded.

Oh screw it.

He picked up the phone. It was now six AM in Pittsburgh, three AM in California. He had to be up in four hours to get ready for the presentation to Keith's people, but he wanted—needed—to touch base with Justin.

The phone answered on the fourth ring.

Justin's voice was sleepy of course, but he wasn't angry.

"Hey. How are things going out there? You getting a tan sitting by the pool?"

"A little. What's going on there? Am I missing anything?"

"You're missing me or you wouldn't be calling at dawn. Are you OK?"

"…I'm alright. It's fine. I just can't sleep."

There was a slight pause. "Brian? Are you worried about something? That's usually when you can't sleep."

Damn, the kid had him nailed. "Nothing really. The pitch is tomorrow then I can come home."

"You worried about the pitch? That's not like you. Is something wrong with it?" He didn't ask if anything was wrong with Keith, he noticed. Justin was a smart fucker.

"No, the pitch will be fine. I guess that I'm just homesick. Is everything alright there?"

Justin seemed to be digesting the concept of Brian being homesick and what he might be homesick for. "Everything here is OK—oh, except the weather. Have you been paying attention? Wait a second…" There was the sound of rustling and movement on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I though so. It's still snowing really hard here, you should make sure your flight isn't cancelled later."

Just what he wanted. Shit. "Are you sure?"

"I'm looking out the window at it. I can barely see across the street and the cars are pretty much buried."

"Fuck, yeah, I'll call the airlines later and let you know what's going on."

They were quiet for a few seconds, Justin watching the snow, Brian not wanting to stay where he was longer than he had to.

"Brian? What's going on?"

"Nothing, it's fine."

"Bullshit. I can hear your voice. Something's bothering you."

"It's…I just miss you, that's all." Brian could almost hear the smile on the other end of the line.

"I miss you, too. I love you, Brian."

"I—know. Try to get back to sleep, OK?"

"Call me if you can't get back tonight."

"I will. Later."

"Later."

Well, shit. Now he felt like a turd. He hadn't even done anything and he felt like he was two timing Justin. OK, it was the old `lust in his heart' thing, but Damnit—he and Keith had been, God, they had been as tight as he and Justin were now. They had loved each other; they had shared their bodies before Brian had decided that it was all just fucking. They had told each other everything there was to know about one another and they had loved each other whole heartedly and with out reservation.

Yes, sure, it had been a long time ago, but you didn't fucking just forget that. You couldn't forget it and was there anyone in the whole Goddamned world who didn't have someone in their lives they wondered about? Didn't everyone have somebody—an old lover, an ex, a no when you really meant yes, the one who got away—who you had to wonder about?

Doesn't everyone have a `what if' in their past?

`What if' he hadn't been transferred?

`What if' the proposal had been accepted?

`What if' you'd gone to a different college?

`What if your parents hadn't walked in at the wrong moment?

`What if' you hadn't been afraid?

`What if' he and Keith had another chance?

Shit.

What if he and Keith had another chance? Would he take it? Did he want to? What if he and Keith tried again and it worked? What if it didn't? Either way, what about Justin? How the fuck could he do to Justin what had been done to him by both Keith and Justin himself?

They had both torn him in half and left him bleeding.

How the fuck could he and Keith be happy—would they be happy?—if he knew he'd hurt Justin in the process?

How could he be happy with the damn question hanging over his head for the next fifteen years?

Fuck.

He had to sleep. He had to. He had an important pitch in a few hours. OK, he knew that they already had the account, but it would make things a Hell of a lot easier down the line if the rest of Keith's people were on board from the beginning.

Forcing himself, he lay down and closed his eyes, seemingly opening them almost immediately to a gentle knocking sound. Patty was telling him it was time to get ready to go.

He acknowledged, thanking her and hoped that a shower would get his eyes open.

An hour later, clean, dressed and breakfasted, he and Keith were driving the fifteen minutes to Multitech's headquarters. Pulling into the reserved parking place, they walked in together. The drive had been fairly quiet since both of them were exhausted from the late night. Luckily, he was used to operating on not enough sleep.

They went into a conference room, shook hands with the people waiting for them and Brian's professional instincts and experience kicked in. An hour and a half later the meeting was over, everyone was impressed and Brian knew that, at least professionally, there shouldn't be any big problems. He was walked around the offices to meet the various people who he might have reason to deal with over the next couple of years, although he knew it was just a courtesy on Keith's part so that the employees would feel part of the process. It took a while and they didn't finish the full circuit until almost noon.

In Keith's office, after the usual hand shaking and small talk with the suits was finally, finally over, Brian sat down in one of the leather chairs across the desk and decided—what the fuck—let's just cut to the chase here.

"That went well, Bri, you impressed them just like I though you would. You had them eating out of your hand." He was smiling. "I'm proud of you, Bri—you turned out as well as I knew you would. Better."

"…Right, thanks. Look, Keith—one thing I don't quite get here."

"Anything."

"Patty—why is she so fucking accepting about this whole scenario you've come up with between the two of us?"

Keith seemed to be half expecting the question.

"She has a lover herself, has for years." He stopped for a moment at Brian's stare. "She knows I'm gay. About three years ago I told her the whole story, I even told her about you when she found some articles I'd saved about you from Advertising Week and the Pittsburgh papers. You're making quite a name for yourself, you know."

"And you stayed together because…"

"Right, we stayed together because of the whole corporate image and since neither of us had anyone else to go to at that point. Besides, we really are good friends. We get along great. We're just roommates now, but it works out fine. We enjoy each other."

Brian took it in; it wasn't all that rare an occurrence. His own story with Lindsay wasn't so different. "And then she found someone?"

"About a year ago. Adrian, he's a surgeon in LA. He's decent enough. They'll probably get married eventually.

"What? And she wants to get you settled first?"

"She just wants to make sure that I'll be alright. I told you, we're still close friends."

Brian gave him a look. Damnit, he still liked the man, still respected him and still wanted him to be happy, despite everything that had happened between them.

He'd been wondering about something. "Is your grandmother still alive?" As teenagers they had spent a night at her farm near Gettysburg, ostensibly to help her move some furniture. That was the night they consummated their relationship. It was the first night they slept together and was the first night Brian had ever slept with another man.

"She's still on the farm, but now she has a caretaker managing it for her. She broke her hip last winter but luckily the therapy seems to be working for her. You know, she asked about you for a while. She liked you."

He nodded. "I liked her, too."

There was a knock at the office door and Keith's secretary came in. "Mr. Kinney? I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just checked on your flight. Because of the snow back east, all airports east of the Mississippi are closed."

"Do they have any idea how long?"

She just shrugged and shook her head and left.

"Fuck. I have to make a call, Justin is expecting me tonight."

"I'm sure he knows that the flights are grounded. Just stay with us and we'll see where we are in the morning."

There was an open-ended comment for you.

"I'd still like to call him."

"Of course. Here use this phone; I was going to go over some things with Meredith, anyway. Take your time."

Three in the afternoon back home; Justin would be in class if it wasn't cancelled. He called the cel.

"Hey."

"Hey. Look, I can't get back tonight."

"I figured. It's still snowing like a bitch here, you may be there a couple of days, they even cancelled PIFA and that usually takes an act of Congress. Do you want me to call Cynthia and let her know?"

"I'll do it. Are you alright there? You're at the loft, right?"

"I'm at my Mom's. I came over this morning because she doesn't like to drive in snow and Molly was at a friend's house so I picked her up. Now I'm sort of stuck because the roads aren't plowed yet. The news says that this should last through tomorrow. I think it's setting some kind of a record"

"Oh great."

Justin was laughing on the other end. "You're so full of shit. It's like eighty degrees there. You're probably hanging out by some pool."

"I'm working my fingers to the fucking bone, you twat."

"Uh-huh." There was some talking in the background. "Molly says `hi'."

"Yeah, hi. I'll call you when I know something, OK?"

There was a change in his voice as he probably either walked to another room or half covered the mouthpiece. "Brian? Are you alright? You sound…I don't know, you sound upset about something."

"I'm fine."

"…Well, good. Be careful, OK?"

The connection was broken and Brian realized that Justin knew something was going on.

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