Sidestep

Two years after J graduates from Pratt. Four years after the break up. B/J have known each other about seven years now if you count from when they met at the streetlamp.

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Justin graduated from Pratt with honors and, more importantly, commissions and offers of pay for his work. Brian was genuinely proud of him, almost as he would have been of a younger brother and insisted on forgiving the tuition debt as a graduation present, over Justin's protests but finally accepted.

Brian did, in fact, show up for the graduation, but he was tactful—or perhaps self-conscious enough to stay away from the front rows where he would have been easily seen and he opted out of the party after at Justin's place, despite an actual invitation.

He knew it would be too awkward with most of the Pittsburgh `family' there and he honestly didn't want to take any attention away from Justin that day. He really didn't.

Brian did call Justin a couple of days later, though, asked him to join him for dinner at a steak place they both liked. That was when Brian told him that he was going to forgive the money, all of it. The entire four years, plus books and supplies added up to roughly one hundred and twenty thousand dollars from both PIFA and Pratt added together.

Justin refused, point blank. Flat out and loudly saying that they'd had an agreement, a deal was a deal and he was going to stick to it, Damnit.

Brian wouldn't hear of it and as Justin was about to flounce away in full drama queen rage, Brian suggested a compromise. Give him several of his paintings—good ones, ones he was proud of, ones he would like to have sold. With any luck they would appreciate in value and that would even things out.

Calming, Justin said that would be fair, though privately he believed that he'd have to give Brian at least seventy-five thousand paintings to square the loan. They agreed that a dozen canvases would be acceptable and that some of them would likely end up on the walls at the agency, probably in Brian's office.

"Why the fuck would you want my paintings in your office?"

"I like your paintings, they're fucking good."

"But we're not together now."

"That doesn't make your work any less good and it doesn't make us any less friends."

With no ready answer to that, Justin ordered his meal and settled in to actually enjoy it.

"What are your plans?"

"I had an offer to work for a company that does posters and graphics out in San Francisco. I figured that would cover my benefits and my day to day expenses and still leave me time to do my own stuff."

"…Sounds good. What's the name of the place?"

"Passport."

"I've heard of them, they have a good rep."

"Brian, you're not going to call them or any shit like that, are you?"

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

Justin was suspicious but kept his thoughts to himself. He would find out, years later, that he had been right. Brian had known the owner of Passport and had called him, forwarding a set of slides of Justin's work. Yes, he had gotten the job on his own merit, but Brian Kinney, Senior Partner of Brenner/Vanguard, Inc. had provided the key to get the door opened enough for him to walk through.

Justin never completely forgave him for that, nor ever expressed his real and deep gratitude for giving him his professional start.

Over the next couple of years Brian kept track of how Justin was doing through his friend at Passport, never asking for any favors for the young man, just wanting to know how it was going. Justin was doing well, he was good at his job and professional. He was well liked and had friends. He had been headhunted a few times and would probably move on at some point. Brian was also told when Justin had shows or took part in exhibits. His reputation was building and he acquired an agent.

His career was starting and was growing.

Occassionally Brian would actually hear from Justin. He would get a birthday card or sometimes a postcard announcing a show. He would call the boy whenever they happened to be in the same city, usually when Brian had business in San Francisco. They would have dinner, exchange mostly small talk and that would be that until the next time.

They stayed close enough that they both knew one could call the other, though that rarely happened.

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Two years later Brian had finally gotten home after a brutal day that had started at six that morning getting ready for a breakfast meeting. Until the day he died he would hate breakfast meetings with all his heart and soul. That had been followed by a full day at the agency and the dinner meeting to schmooze new clients, which had run late. It was almost ten by the time he got home to find the duplex empty and a note on the front table.

"B.

Went to a movie with Johnny, will probably stop after for a snack. Don't wait up, but I want to hear about everything in the morning.

I love you. S"

Shit.

He thumbed through the pile of mail on the desk, tossing most of it and stopping at what was obviously a wedding invitation.

Shit.

He hated weddings.

Opening it he was immediantly grateful that it was something he could be excused for not attending. Jennifer Taylor was remarrying in Pittsburgh and had, for some unfathomable reason, seen fit to invite him. On the bottom was a hand written note.

"I understand completely if you can't make it, but I would truly love to have you here,

Jennifer."

Justin would be there, of course. And Molly. He'd always liked Molly.

And it was obvious that Justin had designed and drawn the invitation for his mother. It was, of course, striking and exactly what Jennifer would want.

Why the fuck was she inviting him? It wasn't like they hung out together or exchanged Christmas cards. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Justin must have had something to do with it. Either he had sent the thing or Jenn thought it would please her son. Well, he wouldn't go. There was no point.

Hell, it was late and he was tired. Like Miz Scarlett, he'd think about it tomorrow. A quick shower then bed would do him right now.

He was just toweling himself off when Steve walked in, kissing him and handing him his robe.

"How was the movie?"

"Long and boring but Johnny was fun. We ended up at that crepe place near Lincoln Center and he told me about his latest casting session."

Johnny was a Broadway director whom they were friends with, he had a new show in production. "He insists that Broadway is becoming family friendly and he wants to stage a version of Behind the Green Door you can almost take the kids to. He was singing me some ideas he had."

"For a queer who can pass at Republican conventions, you have a highly developed taste for the flaming fag."

"It's what keeps you guessing, my love." Brian smiled at him, he might have been partly right. "I saw that invitation on the desk—are you going?"

"Will you be my date?"

"I don't believe I was invited."

"It said `and guest'."

They had been together three years now, three and a half, really, and Steve had always found an excuse to avoid the Pittsburgh family and not just the ones named `Kinney'. Even when he had reason to go to the Pittsburgh office he would just attend to business and leave. Brian had never pushed it and wouldn't, but they knew that at some point Steve should meet Brian's friends. Maybe now was as good a time as any.

"When is it?"

"Next month, the seventeenth."

Steve just nodded then leaned over to kiss Brian. "If you'd like, I'll be there."

"You'll be under a microscope."

"Ahh, but you'll protect me."

Later that week Jennifer was pleased and slightly surprised to open the RSVP card from Brian with the `will attend' checked along with the number `two' written in for number of guests. Justin would have to be told, of course, and the rest of the family would be there with their knives out after what had happened to their Sunshine.

Well, Brian wouldn't let a little thing like that bother him and his friend would have to be made of stern stuff just to put up with the Kinney and to be willing to subject himself to that on a daily basis. It was everyone else she was concerned about. She'd say something to Debbie about giving the man a chance.

With any luck they'd behave.

A couple of weeks later Steve wandered into Brian's office a few minutes after the weekly senior staff meeting and thanked God that he didn't have to deal with that sort of thing anymore. It wasn't that he didn't like the people they had working for them—in fact he both liked and respected them all quite a lot. He was just at the point of letting someone else handle the day to day rigamarole.

"How did it go?"

"Fine. Oleg said that he thinks he has a couple of good candidates for that internship. He'll make a decision in a day or two." He looked up from his desk."…You sign off on them if it would make you feel better. I'll keep my distance."

"If I didn't know better I'd swear you were being defensive. Something about you and interns."

"Fuck you."

"Later, my love. Have you given any thought as to a wedding gift for Jennifer?"

"Not really, why?"

"Well, since I'm free this afternoon I thought that I could stop in at Tiffany's on the way home and see what they have. You said her tastes are classical?"

"Classical, traditional, expensive."

"Tiffany's sounds about right then. Maybe some kind of glass ware?"

"Fine." He hesitated. "Are you sure you want to come?"

Steve knew him better than that. "Have you been talking to someone?"

Damnit. "…It might get awkward, that's all."

He actually laughed. "You know, I think I might enjoy being the home wrecking bastard…oh, come on, Brian. First of all, in all likelihood I'll never see these people again—or if I do the visits will be few and far between. Secondly it's just a couple of hours and thirdly it's time they find out—if they actually care—that I'm not a complete shit who done the poor lad wrong. I think I need to defend my virtue here…and yours, too I might add."

Brian leaned back in his chair, regarding Steve for a moment. He would make quite an impression when he walked in, tall and handsome and refined. Debbie would fall at his feet after she got over cursing him out. And the boys would cream.

Fuck `em.

"Glassware from Tiffany's sounds perfect."

"I'll see you for dinner…something decatant and fattening, I think."

"Perfect." He would just add a couple of miles to his run.

Two weeks after that they were checking into their suite in the downtown Hilton. They'd decided to dovetail a visit to the Pittsburgh office in with the wedding since they'd be in the city anyway and had an informal meeting with Gardner around two. He had the office well under control and they knew there were no problems there he wouldn't be able to handle. It was really more of a courtesy call than anything else.

It was a nice day, they walked the three blocks, enjoying the relative freedom. When they walked into the reception area Brian was amused, though he hid it behind one of his better scowls, that the young woman didn't know who they were. "May I help you gentlemen?" At his somewhat acerbic, "This is Mr. Brenner. You may have heard the name in passing or perhaps read it on your paycheck?" the poor thing paled. "We're here to see Mr. Vance." She picked up the phone immediantly. "Carol? Mr. Brenner and his assistant are here to see Mr. Vance….Of course…You may go right in, he's expecting you."

Before they could clear the area Gardner was greeting them, hand extended. "Brian, Steve, it's good to have you both here again." Ever the gentleman, he turned to the young woman. "Anne, I don't believe you've had the chance to meet Mr. Brenner and Mr. Kinney yet. Mr. Brenner is our senior Trustee and Mr. Kinney is the senior partner who runs the New York office."

The poor thing was dying and sputtering an apology which Steve completely diffused. Even Brian added a smile after a look from his roommate.

Her job was safe.

They talked about the possibility of opening an office in Europe, probably London. This would likely mean either closing or seriously downsizing the Pittsburgh branch and they simply weren't sure whether or not they wanted to do that, at least not yet. It would bear further thought. They did a walk through of the work spaces and the workers who remembered Brian politely forgot that he did everything in his power to scare the Hell out of them when he was there. Brian privately laughed at their expressions.

Steve pretended not to notice.

Gardner asked them if they would like to join him and his new wife for dinner, but Brian declined, thanking him and saying that they already had plans to visit friends for the evening. The meeting, mainly social though it was, just verified that the company was doing well, growing and winning all the awards that were worth having. Things were good.

A couple of hours later Brian and Steve were back out on the sidewalk and headed back to the hotel, happy with the way the visit had gone and discussing what, if any, changes needed to be made when Steve took his arm.

"What plans with friends?"

"Dinner over at Deb's with the family. Didn't I tell you?" He knew damn well he hadn't. "Around six."

"Trial by fire?"

"You'll be the belle of the ball."

"I don't know if my balls are big enough for this."

Brian stopped walking, turning to stare at Steve. "Steven James Brenner, Senior Trustee and part owner of a successful company, wealthy, handsome and accomplished, erudite and sophisticated, afraid to accompany his partner to a simple family dinner? I'm…shocked. And disappointed. I'd even say that I was saddened."

"Hm-hmm. And whom might I expect to see there?"

"I would assume our hostess, of course, probably Mikey and Ben, the girls, Gus if he doesn't have a better offer. Maybe Temmet. The usual suspects."

"And do they know that I'll be there?"

"It will be our surprise."

"No wonder you scare the employees."

"Our employees love me." Steve just gave him a look.

At six thrity-five they had changed into casual clothes—jeans and a sweater for Brian, slacks and a comfortable shirt for Steve and were on Debbie's front porch. Brian noticed that it wasn't quite as well maintained as it had been when Vic had still been living there. The paint needed refreshing and there were dead leaves around.

For the first time in probably fifteen years, he rang the bell. Somehow he didn't feel welcomed enough to just walk in anymore. There was too much water under the bridge, too much time since he'd last been there.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Hotshit Partner in the flesh and still fashionably late. Get your ass in here and I take it this is your better half, such as you have one?" She took the flowers and the wine they handed her without comment other than, "And if you think you can bribe your way into my good graces after what you two did, you have another thing coming, both of you."

"Debbie Novatny, this is Steve Brenner. Steve, Debbie."

"Well, you always did go for the beauties, I have to give you that." Her once over was less than subtle. "Come on, sit down, everything's ready." The kitchen table was set, the wine they'd brought added to the stuff already out and welcomes and cheek kissing all around. Steve, understandably holding back a bit surrounded by people he didn't know. Brian made the introductions to the suddenly subdued group. All of them had been rooting for Justin when all of that was happening and this guy, whoever he was, wasn't Justin.

Debbie had taken a hold of Brian's arm, stopping him from following Steve to the table. "OK, he's pretty but he better be a whole lot more than that to make up for what you did to that poor little kid. You hear me, Mister? I've seen you throw a lot of shit at people who love you, but your dumping Justin took the fucking cake."

Brian just gave her one of his `you done?' looks. They'd been around too many blocks together over the years to take each other's outbursts too seriously.

"When I heard what happened I thought you'd finally done it, you'd finally given up the only thing that might have saved you from being a complete asshole just so you could screw your boss, make more money, maybe get another fucking promotion—if that's what he is, I'm done with you. You understand me? I swear to God, Brian—you went too damn far." Her face semi crumbled. "You broke that baby's heart."

He rolled his lips in. He cared what she thought, she was one of the very few he did give a crap about. "Debbie." He hesitated. This wasn't easy for him. "I love Steve. He loves me. I expect that I'll be with him the rest of my life…give him a chance, OK? You'll see."

Whatever horrible remark she may have expected to come from him, that was as far from it as she could imagine. She nodded.

Oh, sure, Lindsay had lobbied to give him the benefit of the doubt, but no one listened to her.

Steve had the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at by a table full of people who had their eyes averted.

Lindsay tried. "Steve, I understand that you're semi-retired. That must be a real treat to have all that free time in New York City, what do you like to do with it?"

"I try to see whatever art exhibits catch my interest and I do read a lot. I also visit friends several times a year."

"That's not a lot of time to spend with your friends, a couple of dinners." Melanie, of course.

"I'm sorry, I meant friends of mine in Europe, mostly in London. I have close friends there and up in Yorkshire who I spend time with. And I do still handle several of the accounts."

Emmett joined in, relatively low level snark. "Justin had a show in San Francisco last month, did you hear about that? A friend of mine was telling me that it was fabulous."

"He was part of a group show. I think he's working on his masters so he can fall back on teaching if he ever decides to do that." Lindsay looked at Brian as she explained.

Debbie. "Like he would have ever had to do that if things had worked out differently."

Steve. "I saw his show when I was visiting our office there a couple of weeks ago. In fact I bought two pieces that we hope to be able to incorporate into a campaign we're working on."

Melanie. "Would he get some kind of commission on that if it works out?"

Brian. "We own the works outright since we bought them, but we'll probably sign a contract with him for more along the same lines, if he's willing. I called his agent last week about it."

Ben. "You arranged that interview for him at Passport, didn't you, Bri? That's what I heard, anyway."

Steve. "Brian sent some slides and made a phone call to set up an interview, Justin got the job on his own."

Debbie. "Fucking San Francisco. You couldn't have found someplace further away? Maybe Timbuktu? Of course then you might have had to actually had to face him and we know you wouldn't wanted to have done that."

Steve looked at Brian, a sort of `These are your friends?' sort of look. Change the subject. "This sauce is wonderful, Mrs. Novatny. What's in it? It's really very special."

Ben. "You like to cook, Steve?" He was trying.

"It's a hobby of mine, yes."

Emmett. "Fabulous, sweetie—La Kinney never could boil water, as I recall."

"Like I ever offered to cook you dinner."

Em. "Baby, you just missed your chance, and that's the truth."

Deb. "It's the wine."

Steve looked across the table at her. She was everything Brian had told him and more. He had loved her on sight, despite the foot they seemed to be getting off on. Besides, he knew she was Brian's real mother, the one who mattered. He had yet to meet the biological version. "Excuse me?"

"It's the wine in the sauce. I use a bordeau, that's what makes the difference."

"I use chianti, but this is really excellent." Debbie was unimpressed.

"Do you two ever see Justin? I mean face to face?"

"I haven't seen him since a few days after he graduated in New York, Deb. I didn't think there was much point."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't. How about the fact that you tore his heart out when you threw him out? How about that?"

"Jesus, Deb give me a break here. That was over four years ago. People break up all the time, for Christ's sake. What did you think I should have done? Stay with him because I was afraid of hurting his feelings? You really think he wouldn't have figured out that I felt sorry for him? Like that would have been any fucking better?"

"Well, you're so Goddamned smart, you coulda thought of something."

"I did. I was honest with him. You'd rather I'd blown smoke up his ass?"

"I'm sure you blew plenty of stuff up his ass over the years."

"God, Deb."

"Mom…"

"Sweetie, that was maybe a bit rough, don't you think?" Steve looked at his plate.

Brian had enough and was ready to leave. Fuck em all.

Steve's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked over. Steve just shook his head enough for Brian to see. He'd try. Debbie would at least give him a chance to talk, at least for a couple of sentences.

"Debbie, all we did was fall in love and be happy together. If that could have been possible with no one getting hurt we would have done anything we had to for that to happen. It wasn't possible, not with the circumstances we were in. We've, both of us, done everything we can to make it easier for Justin but Brian is right. It's been four years now, more than that, in fact. He has to move on and accept what's happened."  

She knew he was right, but wasn't about to let it go that easily. "But that poor child…"

"Justin was no child then and he certainly isn't one now." He paused a second. "Brian wanted me to meet you, to meet all of you because he's been telling me all this time that you're his real family. Debbie, he's told me that you raised him more than his own mother did. If that's true, then be happy for him. You love Justin, everyone here knows that, but Brian is your son."

He stopped them all, even Melanie. He was right.

Debbie was the first to break the silence Steve had caused. "Eat your ziti before it gets cold. And Steve, you make sure he eats when you two get back to New York. He's getting too thin."

The ice broke and general conversation resumed. The rest of the evening moved smoothly with Brian and Steve answering all of their questions about the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

"Steve, have you met Joan or Claire yet?"

"No, I haven't had the pleasure."

"Sweetie, this is nothing. You meet them, you're dealing with the major leagues."

"…Oh, good."

"Which is exactly why they don't know we're in town. I believe that mother Kinney is still saying novenas for my soul, lost though it is. Pass the bread, please."

They weren't home free yet, but they were headed in the right direction.

And the family all privately agreed that Brian was lucky to have found him.

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By noon the next day they were almost ready to leave for the ceremony. As was to be expected, they were both beautifully dressed. Brian in his favorite Armani, Steve in Gucci with both men looking handsome and distinguished.

It was no real surprise, considering the raw material they were working with. "You had the present delivered last week, didn't you?"

"Of course. Where is this taking place?"

"In the backyard of the new husband. Second marriage, understated. WASP. Conservative. Finger sandwiches probably involving cucumbers and a mediocre champaign."

"Remind me never to ask your critique of one of our parties."

"We have taste."

"How do you know we have good taste, though?"

"We're fags."

"Ah…Of course."

Half an hour after that they had parked the rental car on the street of the obviously upscale neighborhood and followed some other guests around to the back. Luckily it was a sunny day and warm enough. It should be a nice afternoon for Jennifer and, what was his name? Right. George.

There was a tent set up with tables for a meal later and a lot of flowers, both growing in the gardens and in arrangements. There was a floor set up for dancing and a bar over to one side. Chairs were set up in rows in front of what would obviously serve as an alter of some kind. A string quartet played in the background. Fortunately, it was a large yard.

It was what they had expected, tasteful and refined and polite. There would be no nude dancing this afternoon.

Scanning the crowd of maybe a hundred and fifty they saw the family from last night standing over by the pool. There were flowers floating in it. Gus, now seven, was with them today and made staright for Brian as soon as he saw him.

"Hi, Dad." He allowed himself to be hugged and actually returned it, which pleased Brian. "Hey, Steve." He transferred to his sort of uncle. The two really did like one another and had spent more time together than most people would have though they would. Steve liked kids in general and he liked Gus in particular. "Thanks for the bike—it's awesome…Mom says it's too expensive, though."

"I'll talk to her." Gus had seen it the last time he'd been to New York, practically drooling over the thing. After talking it over with Brian, Steve had arranged for a place in Pittsburgh to deliver one for his birthday a month later. "Don't worry about it." Gus relaxed. Steve could talk to her without getting her mad. Dad seemed to almost enjoy watching her blow up. Well, it could be pretty funny so long as it wasn't directed at you.

"Everybody is over there." Gus pointed to one of the tables. Deb was wearing what was probably her best dress, likely one she had made herself and embracing all the colors under the sun, including a few feathers and sequins for good measure. The others were almost looking appropriate, likely in an attempt to please Jennifer.

They were making their way over when Brian felt a hand on his arm. He turned.

"Molly. God, you look wonderful." He leaned down to kiss her cheek and she did, in fact look wonderful. She was nineteen now and her mother's maid of honor, dressed for the part from Saks or Vera Wang. He'd heard that Justin would be best man. "Steve, this is Jennifer's daughter, Molly. Molly, Steve."

"Brian's told me a lot about you—Stanford for pre-med? Impressive."

She blushed, embarrassed. She hadn't heard much about Steve that was good, just that he was a bastard for taking Brian away from her brother but she had always privately believed that if they had been solid, no one else would have mattered. In fact, he seemed like a nice man from everything she'd heard. Besides, she always thought Brian had pretty good taste.

"We're supposed to be getting started, but I'll talk to you later, OK?"

Steve answered for both of them. "I'd like that, I did my grad work at Stanford a while back. Maybe I could give you some tips." She smiled that sunshine smile and left to do her duty.

The men found seats near the back, allowing Jennifer's close friends and family to have the good view. Besides, they were both tall enough that they'd be able to see just fine.

"When you went to Stanford the 49er's were there."

"The 49er's are still there."

"Not the ones looking for gold."

"…You can take the boy out of Pittsburgh, but you can't take the Pittsburgh out of the boy…"

The wedding march started. Everyone stood and Molly started down the makeshift aisle followed by Jennifer on Justin's arm. She was wearing a long cream chiffon dress, cleanly styled and minus veil. Justin was in a formal morning suit, but it fit well and he looked happy for his mother, smiling at various friends as they walked. When he saw Brian and Steve he maintained his smile and managed to not have it appear to be forced.

Well, maybe he was moving on with his life after all.

The ceremony itself was kept fairly short. They said the vows. The rings were exchanged, they kissed, they walked quickly back up the aisle and stood at the end to receive their guests. It was conventional and would be remembered by all the people who were there as `nice'.

After going through the receiving line, kissing Jennifer on the cheek, presenting Steve and shaking hands with George, they found a table to sit for a few minutes by themselves with glasses of champaign. Everyone else was still stuck shaking hands and Brian would never understand the point of the fucking things. Even Steve referred to them as `those damn line ups'.

"Explain to me why she wanted you here?" Steve asked mildly and Brian knew he was bored but would be too polite to let anyone else know. Brian knew he was ready to leave and they had hours yet before they could go.

"I'm not completely sure other than that she may be letting me know that bygones are bygones or something." Jennifer had refused to even speak to him after Justin told her that Brian had fallen in love with someone else. The protective mother in her had trouble forgiving him for hurting her son.

"She could have done that by phone. Do you think Justin asked for you to be included?" They looked over at him still stuck on the line, being polite to the guests filing past.

Probably. Brian just shrugged. "Fuck if I know."

Finally people seemed to be done with the social pleasantries and started relaxing and having some fun. There was another band that played everything from big band stuff to almost reasonable versions of newer things and people were dancing. Steve declined when asked, preferring to just sit and talk to Molly when she was able to join them. Brian found himself, coatless, on the dance floor with Debbie.

"I have to tell you that I was real pissed off at you after what you did to Sunshine, but I have to admit that he's a darn nice guy—and a looker, too. You be nice to this one, you hear me?"

"Thanks, Mom. I only take him down when he deserves it."

"I'll bet. Knowing you, you take him down at least twice a day."

"Three or four."

Debbie hugged him. "I've been worried about you, kiddo. I wasn't sure this guy was up to snuff for you and then after last night I wanted to make sure you knew what you had in him, but I've been watching you two and I think that you're both going to be OK."

He smiled with almost no snark. "Me too."

She fixed him in one of her looks. "You think he's better for you than Justin was? You're happier now then you were with Sunshine?"

He hesitated. Tricky answer here and he knew it. He went with the simple truth. "Yes."

She finished her look. "…Well, then you did the right thing…You do know that if it hadn't been for Justin, you never would have been ready for Steve. You know that, don't you?"

"I've known that all along, Deb." He kissed her cheek and they left the floor to join their table. Lunch was served.

The poached salmon was fine and the toasts were fulsome enough for any wedding. While the guests were talking with one another, the band playing and the wedding cake being eaten, Jennifer and her new husband made the rounds, greeting their friends. She and Brian kissed cheeks and she shook hands, politely but a bit coolly, with Steve, thanking them for coming all that way from New York and saying how she had loved the beautiful crystal they had given.

Finally as they were thinking that they would be able to make their escape, Justin came over, holding the hand of a reasonably attractive young man about his age. "Brian, Steve, this is Eric."

The made the usual comments about how nice it was to meet him. Obvioulsy he was Justin's `friend', the one they had heard about through the various grapevines. They made small talk, learning that Eric was a chef, that he was working at one of the better restaurants in the Bay Area, that he was terribly proud of Justin and his art work and that he hoped to one day open his own place. He seemed like a nice enough kid and it was clear that he was devoted to Justin, looking at him with adoring glances.

It was equally clear that Justin ran the relationship and maybe that was what he needed after being with Brian. It seemed to work for them.

Of course, they had barely met the kid.

Eric excused himself to use the men's room.

"So what did you think?"

"The wedding was tasteful" They saw Justin's look. He knew it had been a bit sedate for Brian's taste. "Eric seems—fond—of you."

"Eric loves me. And I love him."

Brian nodded, Steve's hand was lightly resting on the small of his back, unconsciously staking his claim. Brian leaned back into the touch, acknowledging the fact.

"I hope this is what you want, Justin." Brian doubted it, but he didn't really know, he'd barely met the young man.

"It is, at least for now." He watched Eric walk back towards them. "And you got what you wanted, both of you did."

"We're happy, Justin." Steve got up to go. He was polite, but he'd had enough of the verbal jousting with Brian's dysfunctional family. "Thank you for having us, it's past time I met everyone and this gave us a chance."

"We have a plane this evening, Justin. We both have to be back in the office in the morning."

He looked up at them, they were both beautiful, confident. They looked like people who belonged together, they moved the same way, leaned into one another the way couples do when they're in sync.

"I have a show in New York at one of the galleries on Madison next year. I'll see that you both get invitations."

"We'll look forward to that. And I'll fax you some of the specs for that new perfume we're helping to launch. We'll need the boards in about a month."

"You'll have them. Eric? They're leaving."

The men shook hands all around before Brian and Steve sought out the bridal couple to wish them well.

Justin sat on a bench off to the side, Eric beside him, holding his hand gently. Brian and Steve were solid. He knew that.

Eric leaned against him, his head lightly on his shoulder. "I love you, Jus."

There was a short beat. "I love you, too."

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