”Brian? Brian Kinney? Shit, it is you—I thought I saw you sitting here.”

 

The bar area in the small restaurant at Newark Airport was crowded, noisy and Brian looked like he hadn’t even been sure at first if it was his name or someone else’s being called. He looked over to his left, focusing on the man calling him, seeming to be trying to place him and not have an easy time of it.

 

The stranger covered for him.

 

“John—John Howard. We were at Allegheny together. You played soccer and ran track, I played football. We had a few classes together. Chemistry, calculus, a couple of English classes.”

 

Shit—right. The light sort of dawned in his face, like he was starting to remember the guy. Well, alright, they hadn’t been close friends, but they had always gotten along and he vaguely remembered that they had worked on a couple of projects together. John had been alright. Of course, it had been fucking high school.

 

“John, it’s good to see you again.” They shook hands as Brian turned to him. “What are you doing here? I mean are you coming or going?”

 

Brian smiled, looking like he was remembering more about the not quite a stranger. John had always liked Brian, thought him smart and a good athlete. In fact, he had always been sort of jealous of the way Kinney seemed to just slide though the school—almost like a fish swimming with the currents and always knowing just when to turn or dive, always knowing what to say, always getting the grades and the trophies and the girls wishing he would call.

 

Handsome and smart, an enigma with an impenetrable attitude. He was one of the local Gods.

 

John automatically gave him a quick once over. He was the same age, of course, and seemed to holding together fairly well—that thick brown hair, still long and lean—he probably worked out and he always did have piercing eyes—damn, the things you remember. He was dressed in an old pair of Levi’s, broken in just right and what had to be a four hundred dollar cashmere vee-neck sweater. A very good leather jacket was in his lap.

 

Women looked at him as they went by. He seemed not to notice.

 

OK, fine, he was holding up damn well and, if anything, was even better looking than he’d been had at eighteen.

 

Brian gestured for him to take the empty seat next to him, asking what he’d have. The bartender handed him the beer he’d asked for. “So, John you didn’t tell me—what are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, just meeting my wife. She took the kids down to Disney World this week to get away from the damn cold weather. What about you?”

 

“I’m meeting my partner.”

 

John nodded, sipped at his beer. “A partner? What are you doing now? I sort of lost track of you after graduation.”

 

“I’m a partner at Vanguard, it’s an advertising firm in Pittsburgh. What about you?” Brian finished his own beer, signaling for another.

 

“Oh, I’m a doctor, a cardiologist. I’m still getting my practice off the ground—that’s why I couldn’t go down to Florida. Hey, if you’re based in Pittsburgh, how come you’re meeting your partner in Newark?”

 

Brian turned so he could watch the crowd instead of the back of the bar, but stayed in place on his stool. “I had some meetings in New York this week and he’s coming back from a couple of weeks with his family. It was easier for us to meet up here.”

 

“Shit, that’s always the way, isn’t it? Some get to play and the rest get to work. I’m just here for a medical conference, usually work out of Allegheny General back home.” He paused for a second, nodding at the wedding ring on Brian’s hand. “You have any kids?”

 

“Yeah, a son. He’s three.” His answer was distracted.

 

“That’s a great age. Mine are eight and ten now, two girls.” John noticed that Brian’s attention was drifting. Shit. He always did seem like he had something better to do whenever he tried to talk to the guy—even when they were juniors in high school. Fucker. He was one of the ones who were just a little superior, a little better than anyone else.

 

“When does his flight come in? Your partner, I mean.”

 

“It should be here in about half an hour.” He took another drink of the beer, shifting in his seat a little.

 

“You want to know what I remember about you? That time in gym when you broke Peter O’Malley’s hand in the locker door. Killed his season. Why the fuck did you do that, anyway?”

 

“…I think O’Malley had a problem with my being…Irish.” He still seemed bored.

 

“Everyone tried not to piss you off after that.”

 

“Everyone still tries not to piss me off.”

 

“The other thing I remember about you is how the girls creamed when you walked down the halls—who did you date back then?”

 

“…No one steady. I guess I was still deciding what I liked.” He was half smiling as if he found something funny.

 

They were quiet for a minute or so, both of them drinking. John noticed the bartender giving Kinney the once-over, the invitation obvious. “Damn fags, they’re everywhere.”

 

Brian looked over at him. He didn’t seem to have been listening; in fact, he seemed to have been staring back at the guy behind the bar. “What did you say?”

 

“That guy, he was making a pass at you. It happens every damn place you go.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that myself.” Brian had a half smirk on his face. “It a big problem for you, John?”

 

“Fags? Hell, I don’t give a shit so long as they leave me alone, but yeah—I get them looking me over all the time, sure I do.”

 

Brian looked at him with more interest and what seemed to be amusement. “You ever do anything about it? You ever take up one of the offers?”

 

“You’re shitting me, right? Fuck no. Like I want some guy’s dick up my ass.”

 

Brian shrugged, still amused at his own private joke. “Well, there are always blowjobs.”

 

This conversation was going someplace John didn’t really want to visit. Time to change the subject. “So you ever go to the reunions?”

 

“High school reunions?” The look was like he would rather eat a raw bat. John nodded. “Fuck no.”

 

“I did. I went to the fifth and the tenth—you know they had them over at the Inn. They were nice—good turn out, too. You should come to the next one, that’s in the spring, fifteen years.”

 

“I think I’ll pass.” He hit the beer again.

 

He was starting to push John’s buttons. “I don’t get you, Kinney. I never did—what the Hell is it with you? You were always so Goddamned superior. You got the grades, the letters, you could have had any girl in the place, you got a scholarship to wherever the fuck you went—what’s your problem?”

 

He spared John one of his patronizing glances laced with boredom, the one he was so good at. “I’ve just moved on, that’s all. I’m over high school—it’s ancient history. I didn’t like it when I was there and I don’t have any reason to go back.”

 

John was getting annoyed, here he had come over to be friendly, maybe pass a few minutes while they were both waiting and he gets this shitting attitude like they were back in AP Science again. “Guys like you really burn my ass, Brian—you really do. You’ve got it all, looks, what’s probably a good marriage, a decent job that probably pays more than mine does and you still can’t be bothered to acknowledge where you came from. You know, it’s nice to touch base with all the old crowd, see where everyone ended up, see how they’re doing, maybe lend a hand if you can.”

 

Brian actually started laughing. “What are you, the fucking poster boy for school spirit? What wonderland are you living in? High school sucked. The classes were boring, the teachers were assholes, the students were jerks and the only good thing about it was leaving. I would want to go back because—?” He looked up at the monitors; the plane had landed and would probably be at the gate in a couple of minutes. He slid off the stool, ready to leave.

 

“Fine, forget I asked.” John was about to leave to meet his family when he saw Brian getting up, too. “You meeting Flight twenty-two from Orlando?” He nodded. Putting some money on the bar to cover their drinks they walked out together to gate thirty-seven.

 

“Look, Brian, I didn’t try to get you mad in there. I just thought that you might like to see everyone again. I know at the last reunion a lot of the people were wondering what had happened to you, that’s all.” He smiled. “I know the girls would like to get a look at who you finally married.”

 

“I’ll bet.” Brian seemed to mellow slightly. “Tell them you saw me and I’m fine.”

 

Knowing Kinney, she’d have to be something, that was for damn sure.

 

They got to the roped off area by the gate where they’d have to wait.

 

The plane had pulled up to the ramp; they could see it out the big windows. “You going to stay around the area or are you headed right back to Pittsburgh? Maybe we could get together for dinner or something.”

 

Like that will ever fucking happen. “We’re staying out on Long Island for a couple of days then we’ll be in the city for the rest of the week. I think we’re pretty heavily booked, though.” John knew a brush off when he heard one.

 

The gate door opened, the people stated to walk out. A pretty brunette, small and attractive saw John immediately, the two girls looking like their mother. They exchanged restrained pecks on the cheeks, the girls lugging large stuffed versions of Mickey. “Honey, this is an old classmate of mine from high school, we bumped into each other while we were waiting. Brian, this is my wife Blair and this is Caitlin and Cathy.” He shook the wife’s hand briefly, quickly turning to scan the crowd.

 

The three females were as impressed as women usually were when they first met Brian.

 

Right behind them was the one Brian was meeting.

 

Justin smiled his sunshine smile as soon as he spotted Brian, making his way straight to him through the crowd. They hugged hello, kissing then whispering to one another before deeply kissing again, ignoring John and his family for a few long seconds before the two men noticed they were being stared at.

 

“John, this is my partner, Justin.”

Return to Simon's Fanfiction