Stepping Out

It's summer vacation up in the Berkshires. For those who aren't familiar with the area, those are mountains in the western part of Massachusetts often used for summer/vacation homes and skiing in season.

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August and anyone who had a brain in their head and a cent in their pocket got out of New York City for as much of the dog days as they could. Brian and Steve had the luxury of Steve's house in the Berkshire Mountain's a couple of hours drive north in Massachusetts. The house-always called 'the cabin'- was set on almost a hundred and fifty acres and had been Steve's first big purchase when he'd begun to establish Brenner Inc. It had been completely undeveloped then and as he could afford he had added a mile long driveway, a well, had electricity run and phones and what had begun as a crude cabin that demanded camping out had become a beauty set on the shore of a small private lake.

They had loaded the BMW, locked the door to the duplex and told Cynthia that she was only to contact them if the agency burned down-on second thought, that could wait until they got back to the city. Please don't call them.

The year had been an incredibly busy one for them. The agency had opened its third office; one in San Francisco and it had taken an astounding amount of time and effort to get that right. Both of them, but Brian especially, had made countless flights to the West Coast to make sure that everything was running as well as they wanted and that the people they had in place were doing the work up to standards.

It still required a lot of watching and handholding, but seemed to be fine for right now. In a month or so they'd start going back and forth again but for now they would shake down on their own.

In addition they'd had to spend time reassuring their other clients that they wouldn't be overlooked or forgotten in the frenzy of expansion. On top of that, Gardner Vance had decided, at the worst possible time, to elope with his fourth wife and while they wished him well-frankly the idea of a two-month European honeymoon seemed somewhat extravagant under the circumstances.

But they had cleared two solid weeks to be together and they were looking forward to the time to just rest and reconnect over something other than storyboards and ad concepts.

This would be the first time they had managed at the cabin in almost a year and it would serve them both as a tonic.

The drive was a familiar one and they both knew the way by heart. They knew the turns and the exits and had traveled the road enough to know where they wanted to stop for a meal and what time of the day to leave to beat the traffic.

Three and a half hours after crossing out of Manhattan they were unlocking front door.

They both loved the place and though it had started as Steve's private retreat, over the last few years it had become equally theirs, together. Steve had made a little ceremony of adding Brian's name to the deed the first Christmas they were together as a couple and Brian had been understated in his pleasure in that acceptance. Somehow, even more than their buying the duplex together, that had made it clear to Brian that he and Steve were solid. It was something they both simply knew to be true.

They had few bags with them, both men keeping clothes at the cabin year round, so they were settled in quickly. They had stopped at the local store for some basics for dinner and the steaks were grilling when Brian walked out to the deck to hand Steve a chilled beer.

"Everything alright?" Brian had made a quick inspection of the house for any damage while they'd been away.

"One of the screens is torn and I saw some damage where it looks like someone tried to jimmy the lock, but I think it's probably nothing."

"Nothing's missing, is it?"

"Not that I noticed. Sam would have called if there was a problem." Sam was their caretaker. He was a local who would stop by every month or few weeks to make sure there was no trouble. "That smells good."

"Why don't you make the salad while this is cooking? You could open the wine, too while you're at it."

Kissing Steve lightly, Brian went into the kitchen. "I think you're domesticating me."

"The day I get you to make a soufflé we'll know I succeeded." He turned the steaks. "Is your inability to boil water the reason you always go for men who can cook?"

"That's the only reason. If you couldn't make a decent omelet I'd throw you over for a graduate of the Culinary Institute."

"None of them would have you. One look at your protein shakes and they'd leave with no forwarding address."

"Lucky for you."

They ate their dinner on the deck, watching the family of mallards that had lived on the shoreline forever. Well, yes, this was probably about the twentieth generation, but it made no difference to anyone other than the ducks. It was quiet and peaceful and exactly what both of them needed.

"Do we have any plans at all for the next couple of weeks?" Steve was lightly holding Brian's hand across the foot or so separating their chairs.

"Sleeping in, eating, fucking…" he saw the look. "…Making love." The look relaxed. "Maybe go exploring a little, reading. You know, rough times…you?"

"That all sounds good to me. I may have to touch base with the vineyard about their new label." Steve still handled his favorite accounts. "I can do that on line or by phone and fax, though."

"How would you feel about going to Florida for Christmas?"

Steve was used to his changes of subject. "Why Florida and what about Gus?" He already knew the answer; he just wanted to hear Brian say it.

"I promised him that I'd take him to Orlando for his birthday and that's as close as the school vacations will get."

"Do I need to point out to you that I am almost twelve years older than you are? You don't actually expect me to ride on-what is it?-Space Mountain?"

"You could sit in the shade and sip iced tea if you prefer." The silence was loud. "Well, you don't have to come with us. You could spend the time with your family in New Hampshire."

"I'll have you know that I happen to be a roller coaster whore."

"…Excuse me?"

"I love them. The bigger the better. You know the ones where your feet dangle loose below you? My favorites. And you?"

"They make me barf."

"So you're saying, Brian, that you'll be drinking iced tea while I escort your son?"

"I'll hold your sunglasses."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. And since this is obviously already planned, are the girls coming, too?"

"They're going on a cruise for most of it."

"Perfect."

There was a minute of silence.

"Why is it that I'm just finding out now about this thing you have for roller coasters?"

"You never asked me."

"You never volunteered."

"I prefer to keep some secrets. They add an air of mystery."

"…Ummmmmmhh. Anything else?"

Steve gave him a level look. "I think we got some ice cream for desert, didn't we?" He started to get up. "Oh, that's right, you don't eat ice cream. Well, I'll see what I can find that you might enjoy."

"Bite me, Steve."

"THAT was what you said you'd liked to have for desert. Of course."

"At your age?"

"You should be in my shape at my age." He was at the door. "I got you frozen yogurt."

"Chocolate?"

"Of course."

Later that evening they stretched out in front of the small fire. It wasn't actually needed, but it was appreciated in the mountains even in summer. They had spread out a blanket, had finished making love and were now sipping the wine that was left over from dinner. Steve had an arm lightly around Brian's waist as they sat leaning against the sofa.

Brian broke the quiet. "I was going to surprise you with something, but then I thought you might not want it."

He kissed Brian's temple. "Sounds intriguing."

"Your birthday is coming up." It would be his fiftieth. "I was going to take you to Paris, but I thought you might want to go somewhere else." Steve had been there any number of times. It might not be special enough.

"You know I'm happy just getting away with you."

"Spare me the tact. Is there someplace you'd rather go? Or would you want to do something different, stay home and have a party or something?"

"…I thought that you don't believe in birthdays. What's this about? Are you feeling guilty about something?"

"Take advantage of it. Maybe Tahiti or the Seychelles? New Zealand is supposed to be amazing."

This was like Brian, wanting to do something, unsure when it came to a person who mattered to him what the right thing would be. Best to be honest with him, he was too smart to fool, anyway. "…Well, I've always wanted to dive the barrier reef. Is that impossibly pretentious?"

"It sounds like fun. I like to see you wet and breathing hard."

He didn't bother responding. "The Cayman's are supposed to be some of the best diving in the world and they're a lot closer. We could just fly down there."

"Think about what you'd like." He knew that Steve would and that in a couple of days he'd have made his plans. It didn't matter to Brian, so long as Steve was happy.

Steve refilled their glasses with the wine, a nice rose. "I like you." He kissed Brian's shoulder. "You know, no one would believe that you're actually quite nice when you're just yourself."

"I have an image to maintain. I scare the interns. It's part of my job to be the bad cop. You play good cop to make them come back for more."

"…There was one intern you didn't scare." Somehow Justin would come up at the least inopportune times. Damnit, it just slipped out.

"That was almost ten years ago."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Brian turned to look at him. "You have nothing to worry about. You know that. It's been over for almost eight years. We're together and he's moved on. All of us have."

Steve kissed him. "I know that. I'm sorry, Bri. I won't…you know that I love you. I know you love me. It's alright."

"This is getting too damn serious. C'mon." He stood up, pulling Steve by the hand.

"What?"

"The lake."

"Skinny dipping? Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm being fucking spontaneous." He was pulling them down the steps to the short path leading to the dock, Steve protesting as they went.

Halfway there Steve pulled his hand away. "Race ya." He took off at a run. Thirty seconds later was the first splash, twenty seconds after that the second. The pond had just been dredged that spring, the bottom, at least around the dock was now covered with a thick layer of sand. The water was warm, the night was warm, the stars bright. It was heaven.

Brian was floating on his back, his arm around Steve's waist as he stood in water about four feet deep. He looked up at his lover silhouetted against the sky. "Oh, God. This is perfection-a summer night, warm water, good wine and you."

"…And being incredibly rich."

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Brian slept in the next morning. Usually he was up by about seven, but it was vacation and it was summer and he was warm and comfortable right where he was. Around ten thirty Steve walked in with a tray. Coffee, toast, eggs. The basics.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty." Yes, he was being sarcastic. Painlessly so. He put the tray beside Brian, sitting carefully as he did. "You have the worse bed head of anyone I've ever known."

"Part of my charm."

"I've often thought so. Any plans for the day?"

"Relax, maybe take that screen to be fixed, pick up some more food. You?"

"Read. I might go into town to see if there's anything going on, pick up a paper."

He leaned over the tray, kissing Steve. "Give me a bit and I'll go with you."

An hour or so later they were in the local small town, the screen was at the hardware store and Steve was sitting on a bench reading the local paper when Brian came out of the A&P with groceries.

"Did you get ice cream?" Brian just gave him a look. "Fine, we'll stop at the ice cream parlor on the way home."

"Do you have any idea what the fat content of that shit is?"

"No, but I'm sure you do." He was completely unruffled. "You may want to take a look at this." He held up the paper. There was an article about an exhibit of young artists that had opened in Worcester, about thirty miles away. "Justin is one of the featured artists."

"So I see. You want to take look?"

" I'd be interested, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind."

Steve took a beat. "That was a little too easy. You sure? I can go over myself tomorrow or the next day."

"How long has the show been up?"

"A couple of weeks, according to this. Afraid that you'll run into him?" Brian gave him one of his glares. "I'd say the odds are against it. Come with me?"

They got into the car. Luckily Brian had forgotten the ice cream. There was nothing in the trunk to melt. Forty-five minutes later they were walking into a small gallery on a slightly too charming tourist street. They avoided the strollers and the kids and looked at the pieces on the walls.

Justin was improving beyond what he'd been producing even a year ago. His work was more mature, more confident and both more striking and more subtle. Several of the pieces had sold stickers beside them. The two of them were talking about one canvas in particular when an attendant came over, smelling a possible sale. Whoever these guys were, they looked like they had money and sounded like they knew what they were talking about.

"That one is quite something, isn't it? I just love it-if I could afford it I'd buy the thing myself."

Brian and Steve turned politely to the young woman.

"Do you know anything about the artist?" She wasn't sure which of the men had asked the question but it didn't seem to matter.

"Justin Taylor? He's young and works out of San Francisco, but he told me that he might move to Colorado when he was here for the opening a few weeks ago. He's becoming really collectible. Honestly? If you like his things you should buy them now because the prices are going to go up."

"We might be interested in some commission work for him, would you happen to know if he accepts jobs?" In fact Justin did some things for Vanguard now and then. He seemed to see it as part of the payback he insisted on for Brian forgiving his tuition loans, though Brian insisted on paying him above the going rate since his things were better than par. He knew the answer; Brian just wanted to see what the reaction would be.

"I'm not really sure. I know that he's busy and you'd probably have to go through his agent to ask if you're serious about him doing some things for you. If he would even take the job, you'd have to wait for him to be able to get to it. I can get you the name of his agent if you'd like."

"That's kind of you, but don't bother. Thank you, you've been helpful." She smiled, disappointed at not getting a sale. "You don't know if he's still in the area, do you?"

"I know he's not. He told me that he was going to visit family as soon as the opening was over." So he was probably in Pittsburgh with Jenn and her new husband.

They walked through the rest of the gallery, noticing that there was a moody portrait that was probably Brian. Steve hadn't bothered to comment on it, though he did nudge Brian as they walked by to make sure he'd seen it. Back out on the street they wandered through the small town, Steve finding a Ben and Jerry's outlet to stop at. Sitting on a bench, eating his Cherry Garcia, he commented. "Well, the lad hasn't forgotten you."

"Sarcasm is a low form of humor."

"Sarcasm is often dead on target. Want some?" He held up his spoon and, seeing Brian's expression, ate the ice cream himself. "You know, you may out live me, but you'll miss much of life's pleasures."

"You may pleasure me later."

"Philistine."

"I'll remind you of that later."

"How so?"

"…The raping, the pillaging, the raping…"

"Of course. Need I point out that a man in your position needs to maintain a certain decorum?"

"Steven, decorum is one of my favorite positions."

"The immaturity of the youth of this nation pains me. Shall we go?"

Laughing, Brian stood, offering his hand to help Steve up. "Come, the decorum awaits."

"As does the raping and the pillaging."

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The first week passed gently. They slept late, often to love making followed by brunch-elaborate or simple as the mood struck. They read books they hadn't had time for in New York, ate amazing dinners Steve would spend an entire afternoon preparing. It was warm enough to swim and Brian would go across the lake and back daily. They checked in with work on the computer they'd installed in the den alcove and found nothing pressing enough to concern them. In the evenings they would either laze by the fire and make love again or watch a movie followed by lovemaking.

They were astoundingly compatible.

One afternoon in the second week Brian was lounging naked on a chaise he'd dragged onto the dock while Steve constructed that night's meal-some incredibly complicated soufflé recipe he had managed to get a restaurant friend to give him a few months ago. It involved seven different cheeses and God knew what else. Steve saw it as a challenge.

Brian had brought a book out with him, one he'd read about in the book review and thought sounded interesting, but which he now found boring. He was close to dozing off when he heard the footsteps and felt the cold beer bottle against his bare arm followed by a kiss.

"Dinner finished?"

Steve sat beside him and brushed the hair out of his eyes. The gesture was tender and one they both took comfort in. Sometimes it was almost paternal and Brian would wonder, now and then, if that meant anything but decided that it probably wasn't as significant as some might think. It was simply-nice. He also thought it amusing that Steve would have no inhibitions when they were in bed-or where ever they might be making love-but if the situation wasn't sexual, he would unfailingly observe his own sense of propriety. He would brush the hair from Brian's eyes, but would make no reference to the fact that he was laying there nude.

"Uh-hmm. It comes out of the oven in an hour. If you want to sleep you should move out of the sun." Brian was looking at him with an odd expression, caught in the setting and the moment and the company. The sum of the last few days and the reality of the happiness that he hadn't thought he'd really find all came together. "What?"

"Nothing."

"No. Tell me."

He caught Steve's hand, holding it lightly. "I love you. I really do love you."

Steve glowed, whether with happiness or the heat or both.

Their fingers laced together. "Have you ever thought about what would have happened if you hadn't come back that Christmas, or if you hadn't shown up at the party?"

"Or if Justin hadn't walked in on us? Of course-haven't you?"

"I might still be with him. Do you think we'd be having an affair behind his back?" He was teasing, baiting Steve.

Steve didn't take the bait.

"If I hadn't come back, if that hadn't happened to force our hand I think you might well still be with Justin in that townhouse you two had-And we wouldn't be having an affair."

"What makes you so sure? We know we were attracted to each other. We saw each other every day at work."

"I wouldn't have agreed to be your piece on the side, no matter how much I wanted you and you wouldn't have been able to put up with it for long either. You were too worried about hurting Justin-and he would have figured it out fairly quickly anyway."

"Dumb never was his problem…would you have stayed at the agency?"

"I'd already decided to sell my holdings and leave."

He hadn't known. "If-you mean if we hadn't ended up together you would have just left?"

"Brian, my love, life is too short to be miserable."

The import of what Steve had just told him made this one of the moments that Brian would remember with crystal clarity the rest of his life. He sat up, his hand on Steve's cheek, almost overwhelmed and said softly, "I cherish you" then put his arms around Steve's neck pulling them close together. In his entire life he had never said that phrase and he never would again, but at that precise moment it was right.

Steve could hear that his breathing was uneven and was amazed that Brian could be surprised at what had been obvious for years, that he had been that unaware of the impact he'd had on Steve's life.

He started laughing.

Taken aback, probably pissed, Brian leaned away. "Excuse me?"

"…I'm, I'm…I'm sorry…No, I really am it's just that, it's just that here you are, here we are confiding our commitment and love and you're sitting here in broad daylight stark naked." Brian was pissed. His glare was impressive, even for him. "Well, Brian…it's funny. It is…really." A beat. "Well, I think it is."

"Asshole." Brian started to stalk off towards the house in a huff before rethinking his plan. Turning back silently-he was barefoot along with bare everything else-he somehow managed to pick Steve up, despite his struggling and the fact that he outweighed Brian by about twenty pounds, and dump him into the water.

Hauling himself up the ladder, still laughing, Steve used the hand Brian offered him to yank his lover into the water himself. Annoyance gone he got a smile out of Brian, now standing in the shoulder high water. "Only your closest friends will ever know that you are truly a princess of the first order-naked or otherwise."

"I was thinking about a swim anyway."

"Of course you were." He splished away. "I have to check on dinner."

"Wuss."

"Dinner should be done soon-I spent two hours making the damn thing-be there."

The night before they were going to go back to the city they had considered inviting some of the people they'd become friendly with from the area over for dinner and the evening. After a little back and forth, they decided to just spend the time together. Next they considered going to one of the area restaurants for their last night, but that seemed like too much work and so ended up just grilling some fish out on the deck. It was fish they had bought. Steve felt protective about the ones in their lake and Brian had no intention of putting his hands on the slimy things without a gun pointed at his head.

Afterwards they were sitting on the porch glider, leaning against one another, holding hands, relaxed and comfortable.

"I like the work Justin is doing now."

Brian wondered what had brought that up. "So do I."

"It looks less-angry than it did a couple of years ago. I think he might be working through it all."

"I think you may be right. He told me that he's found someone he thinks might work out for him. That could be the difference."

"When were you talking to him?"

"Just before we came up here. I had to touch base with those portraits he's doing for the AIDS hospice we're donating the ads to."

"How are they?"

"Some of his best work."

"The new beau, is that why he might move to Colorado?"

"He's a doctor outside of Denver I think."

Steve nodded in the dark. He really did wish Justin well, both for his sake and theirs. Time would tell.

"Some day I'd like to retire completely and move up here."

"Brian? The boredom would make you crazy."

"No, I think I really would like it-all this quiet. I could write."

"You're still thinking about your book?" Brian made a sound that seemed affirmative. It was something he hadn't told anyone other than Steve and something that was important to him. No one else knew he'd been wanting to do it for years and had the thing outlined and that the first several chapters were finished. He would work on it now and then. It was an escape for him, one he seemed to need.

"My pie in the sky."

"…I've thought about retiring up here, too. Not yet, but when the time is right. I'd like to write, too-you never know, I might be good at it." In fact Steve was very good at it and had a string of magazine and newspaper articles to his credit.

"You can write in New York and the fifth snow storm would have you snowmobiling to Boston to get a museum fix."

"You are so negative. What if we spend Christmas up here? A Christmas tree would look perfect over by the window and I bet Gus would love it, we have plenty of room for the girls…"

"Florida." The promised trip to Orlando.

"Of course…Well, we can come up here in January, then. We'll get in a cord or two of wood…"

"And a big bag of marshmallows and we can go cross country skiing and…"

"Oh, go to Hell." He softened it by kissing Brian's hand. "I would like to spend more time up here, though. Would you mind if I did?"

Brian turned to look at him. It was dark, all the lights were off but there was enough of a moon to see. "You mean you'd like to come up here by yourself?"

"I want to start on the book I've outlined and since you'll be busy with the San Francisco office it seems like a good idea. I mean, if it wouldn't upset you."

Brian kissed him lightly. "No, I think you should. I'll be working and we can keep in touch through the computer and the phone. It's not like it's that far away, just a couple of hours by car. You should if you want to."

"You really wouldn't mind?"

"I'll miss you, but you know that. Besides, you just want to get your book finished before mine, that's all." He smiled. "I know you'll come back." And in that moment he did know it. He knew that, possibly for the first time he wasn't worried or jealous or afraid that Steve would find someone else or someone better or decide that he wanted out. It wasn't an issue-for either of them.

"Giving me enough rope to hang myself?"

"We'll hang together."

They were solid. They were.

They were solid and a couple and they both knew that they loved each other.

Brian sat in wonder at the thought. Yes, he'd told Steve that he loved him and Steve had told him-countless times, in fact. He knew it and he believed it but somehow right now, this moment, sitting here-somehow he knew it and believed it with his whole body and soul more than he'd ever believed anything in his life.

This was good and this was what he wanted and-Jesus-he was in love with the man who loved him back.

If nothing else in his life ever went right, he had this perfect night and this perfect moment of sitting on a porch swing pressed against the side of the man he loved and they were holding hands and in his whole life, no matter what else happened, it would never get better than this.

Steve seemed to catch his mood.

"Brian? You alright?"

"Have you ever had a perfect moment?"

"You mean like this one?"

"…Yes, like this one."

"I have them with you, all the time."

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