New Campaign

"Brian? There's a call for you on seven. Keith White. Are you available?"

It was about two fifty-five on Wednesday, the weekly senior staff meeting would be starting in five minutes and he had to run the damn thing because Gardner was in Hawaii on a get away with his third wife in an effort to stay married this time.

Hell.

"Yes, I'll take it…Keith, hello. What's on your mind?"

"I was hoping that you might be able to come out here for a long weekend. I have a few ideas I'd like to go over with you and it would be easier face-to-face. Is that possible?"

Shit.

"This weekend isn't good, could you fax me your thoughts, or e-mail them to me? Maybe overnight them?"

"I was hoping to see you in person. Tell you what. What if I come to you? I'll fly in Friday and we can talk that evening, maybe over dinner and Saturday. Is that doable?"

Fuck and shit.

"That would be fine. I'll look forward to it. Let me know when you're arriving and if you want we'll make some reservations for you on this end."

Keith was CEO and founder of Multitech, a computer company that was challenging Dell and Gateway in the mid range home market. They had a well-deserved rep as a good company to do business with. Their products were top of the line and they stood behind them in everyway they could, from warranties and guarantees to tech support available 24/7 that involved real people and answers anyone could understand.

Vanguard had landed the account, or rather, Brian had, about a year ago. Keith had initiated the contact and basically handed it to Brian on a platter.

They had known each other in high school.

They had been lovers.

In fact, Keith had been Brian's first lover, his first-everything.

It had ended badly with Brian being dumped. OK, there was more to it than that, but that was enough for a basic background.

A year ago Keith had shown up and made it more than clear that he'd like to pick up where they'd left off in 1987.

The contract was theirs either way, but he would only agree to the signing if Brian handled the account. Personally.

There was no real choice; the job was worth over five million dollars annually. He had to agree to take charge of the account.

He didn't, however, agree to renewing their affair and Keith knew that. He knew that Brian and Justin were together and had been for several years now. In a visit Brian had been forced to make out to the California headquarters when the deal was being finalized a year ago, he had made it clear that he wasn't part of the package. He had. He had told Keith and Keith had seemed to understand that. He said he did, at any rate. In fact they had agreed that unless there was some kind of major problem, they would conduct their business through the various wire and electronic services available. Their in person contact would be kept to a minimum.

That had worked for a year. They hadn't seen each other face to face since then.

He knew that Brian was involved with someone and wasn't too concerned. As he had put it to Brian: He'd waited fifteen years, a couple more wouldn't make much difference and he was confident that Brian and Justin would run their course. When they were done, he'd be waiting.

He had promised not to make a move that wasn't welcomed, that he'd make no passes or in anyway act in less than a professional manner-until Brian was ready. He still loved Brian, had never stopped, in fact, and he could bide his time.

And he'd be in Pittsburgh Friday afternoon.

Damnit.

Hanging up the phone he stood up, made his way to the main conference room for the staff meeting and managed to compartmentalize his afternoon enough that no one knew that his mind wasn't anywhere near the ballpark everyone else was in. He pulled it off, though, or he was pretty sure he did. Well, yes, Cynthia had given him an odd look as everyone had filed out, but that wasn't any big deal. They were used to each other.

The meeting was over around four thirty, by quarter of five he was out the door-unusual for him since he could usually be counted on to work late-and headed home. He knew Justin was upset about Keith, that he felt threatened, and he just didn't want to have to deal with the fireworks he knew would be coming as soon as Justin found out that the plans they'd made to get away for a few days would have to be pushed back a week or two because he had a client coming to town who would have to be entertained after, and likely before, the business part of things could get done.

All in all, the rest of the week was looking pretty crappy, in fact, when he had a few minutes to think about the way this was shaping up, he realized that not only was he dreading the damn visit, but he was almost starting to feel like he had, well, maybe 'stalker' was too strong a word, but he had a watcher anyway. And he didn't like it.

Damnit.

He pulled the 'vette into his usual parking place in front of his building, hoping that Justin wouldn't be home yet. He'd really like to have an hour or two to himself to unwind, chill, maybe take a shower to just stand under the hot water and try to let some of the tension ease away, at least for a while. That would be nice. He would like that. Then he could get out of the shower, maybe pour himself a JB, watch the national news and by the time Justin walked through the door he would have gotten everything in perspective and have worked out a plan as to how to deal with the two men, Justin and Keith, being in the same city at the same time.

He took the stairs up to the loft, unlocked, slid the door open and found the loft in darkness. He was in luck. The light was blinking on the answering machine. Justin was sorry; he had to help hang some pictures at the student gallery. He'd be a couple of hours, but he'd be back by about eight. If Brian was hungry he should just go ahead and eat without him, otherwise they could order in when he arrived, either was fine. Later.

He took off his coat, his suit jacket, his tie, his shoes and up in the bedroom, removed everything else. The shower was good, it felt good. He stood under the spry, turned the needle fine jets and let his mind go as blank as it ever did. Half an hour later when the hot water had finally given out, he felt a bit better.

He put his robe on, the thick terry one, poured himself the JB he'd been wanting and sat down with Peter Jennings and the news. Half way through the phone rang.

Damnit.

"Yes?"

"Bri? Is this a bad time?"

"Keith-no, I'm just watching the news. Is there a change of plans?" Please say you're cancelled.

"I managed to clear my schedule for tomorrow so I'll be there about dinner, if that's alright. Bob is headed to Boston again and I'm hitching a ride. That's not a problem, is it?"

Damnit. "No, of course not. Will you be coming into the same terminal I landed at last year?"

"That's right, terminal E. We should be there about four thirty. I know that puts us in rush hour traffic, but maybe we could stop for dinner or something, I guess it would be lunch for me, and wait it out."

"Whatever works, sure. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Great, I'll look forward to it."

They cut the connection. Damnit and shit and fuck and Goddamnit again. Brian knew that they didn't have four day's worth of business to discuss. They didn't have one day's worth or business to discuss. In fact, they could have handled it in about forty-five minutes over the phone and still have left time for small talk.

He was still sitting there, considering how he was going to deal with this when Justin slid the door open. He heard a coat being tossed on a chair, the messenger bag being dropped on the floor and the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood floor. Justin leaned over to kiss him on the mouth.

"You look like shit. Bad day?"

Perhaps Justin had absorbed a bit too much of his philosophy of honesty. "What makes you ask?"

"Right. Gardner pull some shit again?"

"A client is arriving tomorrow and I have to entertain him this weekend."

"Shit, Brian, we were going away this weekend."

"We'll go next weekend."

"…Shit." He gave Brian a look. "Who's the client?"

"Keith White."

After tossing Brian a filthy, unbelieving look, Justin turned on his heel, put his jacket back on and walked out, sliding the door closed behind him. That went well.

At two fifty-five the next morning Brian heard the door sliding open again, heard the alarm being set the sound of clothing being shed and dropped in a trail to the bed and felt the other side dip as Justin climbed in. "Are you sure he's coming, there's no one else who can deal with him?"

"Part of the contract is that I'm the contact person. I have to meet with him and even if he was willing to see someone else, Gardner won't be back for another week."

"Where will he be staying?"

"The Hilton."

"Not here?"

"Just fucking stop. This wasn't my idea. He's a client, he's my client and his company does over five million dollars worth of business with the agency. I have to see him so stop being a spoiled twat and deal with it."

"He's the client who gave you his business so that he could get back in your damn bed."

"You're in my damn bed."

"I thought it was our bed."

"…Jesus, spare me."

"Not a problem." Justin got up and if it was possible to flounce away when one was naked, he managed to do so. He spent the night on the couch, with neither of them getting much sleep.

The next morning Justin's snit seemed to have worked itself out and breakfast was reasonably calm. They showered, dressed and went off to their days with a minimum of trauma. Justin had a midterm in his required English class on Romeo and Juliet and Brian would be spending the day making sure that everything was ready for Keith when he arrived. The storyboards would be perfect. The copy brilliant and the dinner reservations guaranteed to make the client happy and leave him impressed-or that would be Gardner's hope at any rate.

Brian was wracking his brain to come up with things to do with him that would keep things personally neutral while professionally friendly.

Damn, he hated tightrope walking.

"Brian? What time is the plane supposed to land?" Gardner was standing in the door to his office-miraculously getting back early as soon as he heard that Brian was committed to the fucking meeting with Keith and he was off the fucking hook.

"Around four thirty. I was just about to leave."

"You're taking him out to dinner?"

"We have reservations at a steak place he used to like. His family went there a lot when we were kids."

"Excellent, he's in good hands. I'll see the two of you in the morning then." Vance was going to show up for the Saturday morning meeting? Fine. Whatever. Maybe Keith would switch his affections.

Like that was about to happen.

"He would probably appreciate you joining us for dinner one night."

"Yes, of course. I'll, uh, I'll let you know what I come up with. You might want to ask him what his preferences are."

Me, naked in his fucking bed. "I'll ask him."

Ninety minutes later Brian watched the small private jet taxi up to the terminal, saw the door open and saw Keith walk down the small flight of steps and come towards him, leather weekender bag over his shoulder.

"Brian, you're a sight for sore eyes. I'm glad you could make the time to come all the way out here just to get me."

He was a major client. Of course he'd meet him at the damn airport.

"Let me get that for you." Brian took the bag. "I thought your idea to stop for dinner sounded good. Tod's alright with you?"

"Oh God, I haven't been there since I was in college. I didn't even know they were still in business. This should be fun-do they still have the old Iron City signs up?"

"I think they're structural now. They take them down, the walls will come down with them."

Brian led them to where he'd parked the new jeep, loaded the bag in the back and they headed toward the restaurant they both remembered from when they were teenagers. On the way they detoured through the old neighborhoods, seeing the changes. Keith's old house had been doubled in size; the old high school had deteriorated badly. Keith was tactful enough not to ask to drive by the Kinney home but if they had he wouldn't have found much changed. Joan wasn't one to care all that much about plantings in the yard or any of that.

The conversation was neutral, general and Brian was becoming annoyed that he was being forced to play the game.

This had nothing to do with Multitech's account or their new campaign. Finally he'd had enough.

"You know that nothing has changed, Justin and I are still together."

"I know that." It was said matter of factly.

"So why did you come?"

"I own a business, you head my ad campaign. It's not complicated."

"Cut the bullshit. You and I both know there's no reason for us to meet face to face over some minor revisions. I don't appreciate your showing up here to make another play for me."

"You think that's what this is?"

"I know that's what this is."

They were in the parking lot of the restaurant. Given the early hour for dinner, there wasn't a crowd yet. They walked into the lobby, Brian gave his name for the reservation that they probably hadn't needed and were seated quickly, the hostess giving them both a once over. Both men were beauties, even if they were old for her. She had the waitress bring them their beers.

"Did you know you can get Iron City in the Valley now? I think some old C-MU guys got horny for it so made some deal with one of the distributors."

Brian was drinking Heineken. "Nerds have shitty taste."

"I didn't just come here to try to get your ass back in my bed." Brian stared at him, disbelief obvious in his look. "It's true. Alright, that was part of the reason. I wanted to see if you've made any decisions about us, but I wanted to see my grandmother. In fact I was going to drive out there tomorrow. I was hoping that you might want to join me. You know she liked you."

He hadn't really expected that. They had gone out to Gettysburg when they were first seeing each other back in high school to help her move some heavy furniture at her farm and had stayed over in her guest house. That was the night they'd first had sex. It had been the night Brian had really lost his virginity. He'd been fourteen years old, Keith seventeen.

It had been magical and he still thought about it now and then, just as anyone thinks about their first time once in a while.

"Is she alright?"

"Gram? She's fine. Slowing down, but fine. She broke her hip last year, but it's much better now. I think she moved down to the first floor so she wouldn't have to deal with the stairs." He stabbed a piece of tomato in his salad. "I thought that we could just take a nice drive out there, have a visit-nothing fancy."

Damnit. It was something he would almost like to do. He'd liked the old lady and he hadn't been out of the city, other than for business in months. Justin would shit, of course, but…

"This isn't a good idea."

"No funny business. I promise, Bri. Just a visit with my old white haired grandmother-what could be more innocent than that. You can even stay in the guest room. I'll take the room over the kitchen." He sipped his second beer. "Tell you what, we don't even have to stay over. We could leave early and drive back tomorrow night." That should make it easier." C'mon, Bri-you don't want me telling Vance you're ignoring me, do you?" Sure, he was kidding. Probably. And there wasn't much chance he'd pull the account, not until they got this squared between them, anyway.

Brian considered for a moment. This was a mistake, he could feel it, he knew it. He shouldn't do this. Fuck. He knew he shouldn't. Keith wanted a hell of a lot more than to just see his old granny and they both damn well knew it. Shit. He shouldn't do this. "If we come back tomorrow, OK."

"Deal. I'll pick you up tomorrow at, what?, say eight thirty?"

"You know where I live?"

"I know your address, I have a computer. I can find it-I did used to live around here, remember?" He gave Brian that smile that used to melt his knees.

Shit, he was in trouble. He knew it and he didn't care. Skipping desert, he dropped Keith back at his hotel and braced himself for Justin's drama queen moment when he found out that Brian would be spending the day with Keith reliving old times. With any luck, maybe he wouldn't ask.

* * *

"I can't fucking believe that you'd agree to do this. This is so fucking bogus and you know it. Jesus, Brian." Justin was in full sail. "The two of you taking a walk down memory lane together? Christ."

"You could come with us."

"I'm not even going to answer that-are you out of your fucking mind? Do you want his dick up your ass for old times sake? Is that what this is about? Is his Goddamned account so important that you'll fuck the CEO to make sure he re ups on the contract?"

"We're going to see his fucking grandmother."

"And when old granny is taking her nap what will you boys be doing?"

"I'm not fucking doing this with you-it's business."

"It's bullshit."

"So fucking come if your dick is in a knot over it."

"Not that you give a shit, but we were going to do things together this weekend, remember? Dinner over at Deb's and you told Lindsay that you'd take Gus on Sunday. Any of this sound familiar?"

Fuck me.

"Deb will understand and Lindsay will…"

"Lindsay will be pissed off at you for blowing off your son again and you fucking know it." He gave Brian a look. "And don't even ask. Fuck no. He's your son, he's your responsibility."

"I'll call them. You can come if you want, you're call."

"No it isn't. I told you that I have a design project that I have to get finished this weekend and you knew that, too, asshole."

"Fine, whatever."

"And fuck you, too."

* * *

Justin had stormed out, probably to Daphne's to lick his wounds and Brian, admitting some kind of defeat, made an early night of it-not that any of his friends would have believed it of him.

He was up by seven, showered and breakfasted when Keith rang the buzzer early at about quarter after eight. Justin hadn't deigned to make an appearance and Brian was damned if he'd leave some note like a fucking housewife off to do errands. He had his cel with him, if the twat wanted to talk to him; he could hit the speed dial.

They were in Steve's rented SUV, a load of flats of annuals in the back. When he had seen the look on Brian's face he had explained hat he'd promised his grandmother that he would bring the things and put them in the ground for her since she had trouble with kneeling and bending now. Brian didn't have to help if he didn't want to. It didn't matter. He could just talk with Gram or something.

The ride went smoothly. It was between two and three hours from Pittsburgh to Gettysburg and the roads were clear. They confined their conversation mostly to small talk; family chat and some talk about where they would like to see the new campaign for Multitech go in the next year or so.

The time went by quickly.

When they pulled into the yard Gran was sitting in a rocker on the porch waiting for them with a couple of cold beers and hugs for them both, swearing that they both looked exactly like they had in high school but that Brian had become even more handsome, just as she had thought that he would.

It was still early, only eleven when they had arrived so after the welcome the two men picked up the rakes and shovels and trowels that they needed to prepare the front gardens. Steve's grandmother…"Oh for goodness sake, call me Mary, Brian"…would take care of the pots and hanging planters while they did the harder work. The White's talked about family, how the move to Florida was going for Keith's parents, how sorry she was about the divorce but that she hadn't been surprised when she had heard. Of course Patty was a sweet girl, she just wasn't right for Keith.

An hour and a half later they were finished, the plants all in, including the vegetable garden Keith and Brian had put in by the back door while Mary had gone in to rest and make them some lunch.

By one or so they were done, Keith was in the bathroom getting cleaned up and Brian was in the Kitchen with Gram, as he still thought of her.

"I'm glad to see that you two boys are still friends, Brian. I was disappointed when I heard that you two had a falling out, you know. I always thought that you were good for each other."

"How so?"

She gave him a look like he was an idiot. "Don't play dumb, Brian, you're too smart and so am I. I know that you and Keith were 'friends' when you were here all those years ago, no matter how young you may have been at the time."

He looked at her, bemused. "You did? And you were alright with it?"

"Well, I did think that you were a bit young at the time, but I knew you were in good hands and it was obvious how Keith felt-and your feelings couldn't have been plainer if you'd sent me a letter." She was setting a selection of cold cuts on platters, along with bread and rolls and various garnishes.

She handed him another beer, putting a second bottle by Keith's place. They could hear Keith outside now, putting the tools away in the shed out back.

"So are you two back together now that he's over that silly marriage he got himself into?"

"Keith knows that I'm with someone else now."

"Then what in God's green earth are you doing here planting petunias?" She was standing over him with her hands on her hips. He had a vision of Debbie in full battle dress. "You know as well as I do that boy is still head over heels in love with you, don't you? You playing both ends of the game?"

He wasn't getting into this. He wasn't. "Keith and I are friends and my company handles his advertising. He's here to talk about the new campaign." He sipped his beer, hoping to end the subject. "We're just good friends."

"Goodness has nothing to do with it."

The screen door slammed in the mudroom. "Lunch ready? I'm starving?" Keith sat down, reaching for the ham.

After they were done eating Mary went to her room for her now daily afternoon nap. Keith and Brian went for a stroll through the property and beyond.

In the mid 1800's Gettysburg was a quiet little farm town that housed a small college, a seminary. Caught up in the Civil War as the site of a tide turning three day battle, it had never put that part of it's past behind it. Lincoln had made his Address there; it was a Mecca for history buffs and family outings. Other than adding too many tourists to the roads, it hadn't changed all that much. Most of the place, aside from the souvenir shops, were fields and old farmhouses surrounded by old stone walls

It was a nice day and warm. The tourists were out in full force wandering among the various monuments from the old battle. They passed the cannons and statues, the famous names-the Peach orchard, the bloody lane, the stand of trees. Neither of them paid much attention.

"Your grandmother thinks that we're getting back together."

"I told you, she likes you."

"And you told her that we're an item again?"

"No. I told her that we're still friends and that I hadn't given up hope."

"We had this conversation already. More than once. I'm with Justin, that isn't going to change any time soon."

"And I told you that I can wait."

Brian sat on a stonewall that they had been walking along side of. "Keith, fuck. We were lovers twenty years ago. I'm with someone else. Fucking move on."

"Then why did you come here with me? You can't miss my old granny that much."

OK, Keith was right, not that Brian would admit it. He was still intrigued by Keith and flattered that someone like him, his first love for shit's sake, was still pursuing him twenty years later.

Still beautiful, wealthy, accomplished, desired, intelligent, kind-he was fucking perfect.

And there had been idle moments when he had considered what would happen if he gave in…well, he had. He was human, Damnit. Who wouldn't when you came down to it?

Sure, he and Justin were together now and had been for a while now. They were even fairly happy most of the time. He-OK-he loved Justin, even though the words would likely never cross his lips. Justin loved him. Well, he probably did, anyway.

After the thing with Ethan and the reunification, as everyone now referred to it, he had wondered if it was a rebound thing for Justin. Sure, he knew Justin would deny it til he was blue in the face, but it had seemed pretty damn convenient to Brian when he had time to step back and look at the whole picture.

He hadn't been giving Justin what he thought he needed, he'd found someone else who hadn't worked out and in days, weeks, whatever-he was maneuvering Brian to take him back.

Oh sure, Brian had known what was going on. He'd known it the minute he saw the blond hair and the innocent look in the art department that day at Vanguard. He knew it later that day in his office when Justin had thought he'd gotten the best of Brian in their little by play. He knew it when he fired his ass and when he'd returned to tell Brian that he should take him back. And he knew it with the countless blowjobs and coy looks and premeditated interludes and concessions the boy had arranged.

The thing that Justin likely didn't believe was that Brian had been on to him from the start and had simply decided to let the boy play out his hand.

Sitting on the stonewall, Keith a few yards away reading some historical plaque, Brian wondered again about what was happening here.

He loved Justin, Justin probably loved him, though there were times when he suspected that he was also a trophy, something for Justin to attach himself to, a place to hang his hat.

He had loved Keith with everything he had in him. At one time Keith had been his friend, lover, rescuer, mentor, big brother-he had been everything to Brian and now he wanted to pick up again where they had left off.

Even if he wanted to-and he wasn't convinced that he did-would there be a chance of it working?

Justin would be hurt, yes, but Justin was young and he would heal. Couples break up all the time.

The problem was that he and Keith, obviously, weren't the same people they had been. Brian was a frightened adolescent and Keith wasn't his protector now. They could both more than take care of themselves. They would be equals this time and there was some part of Brian that suspected that Keith would defer to whatever Brian wanted. Well, within reason, anyway.

They didn't really know each other now.

Not really, not beyond the surface pleasantries and the manners and dance of business.

Jesus, he had loved Keith.

He looked over at Keith, wandering along the field, reading the markers. He was tall, handsome. His body was still toned. He was a striking looking man, almost as striking as Brian was, though in a more conventional white bread sort of way. He was as smart as Brian was, as smart as Justin. He was ambitious and successful, highly respected and well liked.

He had been a kind and gentle lover and he said he would wait for Brian to decide he was ready.

Was he in love with Brian or was it some kind of obsession? Was there much of a difference? Did it matter and could Brian be happy with it, whatever it was?

He had no idea.

Brian got up, made his way over to where Keith was looking at yet another monument. He turned and smiled when he saw Brian next to him. "I used to come out here all the time when I was a kid. After a hard rain or in spring when the snow melted we'd collect bullets that would wash out of the woods and sell them to the tourist shops. I think they paid us a nickel each. That was over a hundred years after the battle and there were so many bullets they were still washing down." He half smiled, embarrassed. "That used to amaze me, how many bullets there were."

"We should get back."

Keith nodded. They walked the fields and paths mostly in silence, watching one another but not saying much. Each seemed caught up in his own thoughts. They got back to the farmhouse just about duck, the lights were on and Gram was in her rocker.

"Do you boys want some dinner before you head back?"

Keith looked at Brian; he nodded slightly along with a small shrug. It was fine and the old woman wanted the company. "That would be great. Do you want us to cook for you, give you a break?"

"The chicken went into the oven an hour ago." She knew Keith wanted a longer visit and she wanted to see if she could find out what was going on with these two. "In fact I was just about to go check on it. Keith? You could make the salad." It was not a request and he helped her inside.

Brian waited until the door closed and he could hear them in the kitchen before he took out his phone.

He knew where this was leading. He was an expert at the seduction game and he could smell it a mile off. He also knew it would cause a butt load of problems he didn't want to deal with. He hit the number.

"Brian, how's it going? Enjoying your day in the country?" Sarcasm and snotty attitude dripped from every word.

"It's fine. We were about to have dinner."

"You're still there?"

No, we're at a fucking McDonald's. "For shit's sake, his fucking grandmother is cooking a fucking chicken."

"Sure it isn't sitting duck or did she just cook you goose?"

"Fuck you."

"And let me just guess what's for dessert."

"I'm not doing this with you, Justin."

"So why did you even call? You want my permission?"

"Sunshine, I don't need it." Pissed, he cut the connection.

Keith opened the front door. "Everything OK?"

"Fine."

"Dinner's ready. We can head back after we help her clean up, if that's good with you. We should be back by midnight or one."

He took a step towards Keith, put a finger on his cheek, drawing a line from ear to lips, ending with a small caress to his mouth. "It's been a long day-why don't we just stay over?"

"…That sounds like a better idea."

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