Time Away

Part 8

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The flight home was uneventful and slightly bittersweet, as the end of most good trips usually are. Brian and Justin were, again, in first class, enjoying reasonably decent champagne and becoming pleasantly buzzed. Justin reveled in the open affection Brian gave him, the sweet kisses, the hand holding, the attention. The other passengers pretended to ignore them.

Jen and Molly were back in tourist, Jen insisting that the newlyweds would be happier up there without them and refusing to allow Brian to spend the exorbitant amount the upgrade would have cost him. Talking to the couple across the aisle while Molly slept, Jen went on about how her son had just gotten married and that they were both up front, she went into raptures about the events of the last few weeks and carried on about how happy they were, how well suited, how happy the two were together. After about an hour, Brian walked back to hand her a glass of the champagne and was forced to accept the strangers congratulations, the seat neighbors going on to Jen at some length how she must have been a child bride to have a son Brian’s age.

“I’m not her son. I robbed the cradle to marry her son, right, Mom?”

“Oh, God, Brian, you’re not going to call me that, are you?”

“It’s better than a lot of the things I could come up with.” Laughing, he returned to first.

In Pittsburgh they landed in snow.

The ice was piled up and the snow lay in mounds from previous storms during the time they were away. Though a car was meeting them, they still had to maneuver through the slush and cold dirty water along the curb. They waited in lines of cars to crawl to the exit and it was over three hours when they Molly and Jen were dropped off and they were finally back at the loft.

Loading their bags into the ancient elevator, Brian handed Justin his keys, placed his arms around Justin’s knees and back, lifted and carried his laughing bride across the threshold. Kissing, more laughing and he finally put the youngster down to find the heat turned down to 50 and the cleaning lady not having been there in their absence. Dirty dishes were still in the sink and the plants were gasping out their last.

It was a bit if a comedown.

Vacation was over. Honeymoon letdown would likely follow.

Though they turned up the heat as soon as they took off their coats, it took a couple of space heaters added to the main heating system to get the loft anywhere near a comfort level where they could eat the Chinese food they’d had delivered without the need of them having to wear coats.

Justin, deciding that the best, easiest and quickest way of warming up would be a hot shower, was under the hot water almost immediately, leaving Brian to wait alone, dry and chilly, for the delivery man to appear or risk never having their orders filled again.

Twenty minutes later Justin emerged wearing Brian’s heavy velour robe to find that the air temperature was up to about seventy—decent enough to consider dinner without parkas.

Sliding down next to Brian on the white rug in front of the couch, Chinese foot cartons spread on the table in front of them. He reached for the first box. Oh, good, his favorite, Cashew Chicken.

“Hey, Brian? You still cold?”

Opening the aluminum pan the steamed dumplings were in, he said, “No, I’m fine, why?”

Not saying anything he moved closer, lifting the long-sleeved cashmere tee up and off his new husband. Receiving just a single raised eyebrow in response, he next unbuttoned the fly of the jeans, silently asking Brian to lift up enough to slide them down and off.

Next, deliberately and methodically, Justin lay Brian full out on his back on the soft rug, took a small bit of the dipping sauce, poured it into Brian’s navel, took one of the dumpling and proceeded to use his lover as a plate, listening to the gasps and sighs as he licked and drank in the appetizer then moving up to kiss Brian’s mouth, transferring part of the meal over to the other’s mouth.

Next he spread a thin layer of sweet and sour sauce over the small nipples, carefully dipping pieces of chicken into the sticky red and then feeding himself and Brian in turn, taking care to lick them clean between each serving and having to pretend annoyance when Brian started laughing enough to threaten the spilling of all the food off of his stomach. Finally through with that part of the meal, he started on the cold noodles, now warmed to room temperature.

He carefully disentangled three or four of the long strings, making sure that the stage was set, as it were. He sat partly up, needing both hands to wrap the strands around the rock hard cock in front of him. When they were completely encircling the shaft he glanced up at Brian’s face—a smirk full of wonder was there, his breathing starting to become labored and his eyes hooded.

Smiling his sunshine smile back, he bent to his meal, licking his way around and around as though it were a special treat. Before he had quite finished with the first mouthful, as it were, Brian made the slightly strangled sound that told him his lover was almost there. Moving quickly, he caught it all in his mouth, adding a little salt to the classic Chinese.

Catching his breath, Brian finally asked, “You leave any hot water? I think I need a shower.”

Forcing himself out of bed the next morning Brian had no choice but to slide and skid his way through the partially plowed streets to the office, knowing that his desk would be piled from his absence. Upon walking in, the first thing the receptionist noticed, as she gave her usual “Good morning, Mr. Kinney”, was the ring on his hand.

She was staring.

Within seconds of his walking by, she was on the phone to Cynthia.

Passing his assistant’s desk he was confronted with:

“Oh my God—you fucking didn’t, did you?” No answer. “You shit, you did!” Taking another look—“And you’re tan, too, you shit.”

“Get me some decent coffee, bitch.”

“Then I want to hear every detail.”

“In your fucking dreams.”

“No fucking coffee then.”

“Fine, Get your ass in here with the coffee—fresh and with real cream, not that powdered shit, and I’ll consider giving you the bare outline.”

An hour later it was all over the company that Kinney had a ring on his finger and that he had even told Cynthia all about it.

By ten thirty Vance was knocking on his Brian’s open door, carrying a bottle of mediocre champagne and two glasses. “I understand that congratulations are in order, Brian. May I be among the first?”

Standing, coming around the desk with an only slightly strained smile on his face, Brian accepted the offered hand and took the bottle for pouring.

“Thank you, Gardner. That’s good of you.”

“And the lucky lady would be…?”

“The little woman is Justin. We were married on a beach on Jamaica last week.”

“…Wonderful! Best wishes to you both, all the best.” Vance sipped at his glass. “This is actually legal, is it, then?”

“License and everything. I was going to drop down to personnel in a little while to add him to my benefits package, in fact.”

“Well…yes, of course. Lovely. We’ll have to have you two over for dinner next week. I’d like to get to know him a bit better.”

“Sounds like it would be fun, Gardner. He can teach you some of the finer points of Tomb Raider.”

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The week pasted fairly quietly, they both had work and school to catch up on and everyone else was caught up in their own day to day lives so their return didn’t raise more than the usual passing comments and questions. Justin avoided questions at the diner by begging a few extra days off to catch up on assignments and Brian simply didn’t bother going in.

No one saw the rings. No one knew.

Saturday evening, early, around six, the usual suspects started pulling into Jennifer’s condo bringing bottles of wine and bunches of flowers for the hostess. The house smelled of a combination of good cooking smells, masses of flowers and the scented candles that she was so fond of. The overlaying scent was cinnamon, the general feeling warm and welcoming. There was a fire burning in the small fireplace.

Molly was taking coats, carrying then up to the master bedroom, putting them on the bed and seemed more excited than would have been thought normal for a young teenager at an adult party. The fact that she and her friend, Laurie had wrangled an overnight so they could both watch the evening’s announcement added to the suppressed giggles the others marked down to adolescence.

“Debbie, I told you not to bring anything—look at all of this! You must have been cooking all day to make this much.”

“You know Sis, Jen, if she isn’t feeding the entire county, she’s not happy. Everyone here already?”

“Michael and Ben called to say that they’d be a little late and Mel called to say that they’d be over as soon as they drop off the sitter. Ted and Emmett are here and Justin and Brian have been helping for the last couple of hours—Vic, put that down, the girls are helping tonight, you’re all guests.”

“How was Jamaica? You haven’t told us one fucking thing about your trip? I want to hear everything!”

“It was just about perfect, Em. Don’t worry, we’ll tell you about it.”

“Where are Justin and Brian? I thought you said they were here.”

“They just went out to get a couple of things I forgot. They’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sweetie—that’s just fine, I’ll just sit here and eat these shrimp balls and eat and eat…”

“You’re always happy to eat balls.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“You know it, baby.”

Half an hour later the girls arrived with Gus and Michael and Ben had finally made it. The only ones still missing were the newlyweds and Jen had a sneaking suspicion that they had stopped of at the loft for a ‘relaxer’ before heading back.

Damn.

She was just dialing Justin’s cel when she heard the doors slamming out front. The door opened with a blast of frigid air and they were loudly welcomed back by the others with comments that it was about fucking time, thanks a lot for dropping by and another fashionably late entrance, Kinney?

They climbed up the front stairs, Brian’s left arm casually draped over Justin’s left shoulder, Justin’s left hand holding Brian’s—the rings obvious and shining in the room lights.

Lindsay saw them first. “I don’t fucking believe it!”

“What?”

“Their hands—are those wedding rings?”

Justin’s smile broke out as he ducked his head, nodding. Brian’s other arm came up around him, encircling his waist. “We got married on the beach in Jamaica a week ago Wednesday.”

There were screams and hugs and Gus—not understanding but wanting to be included— ran through the tall adult legs demanding to be picked up so he could add his hug to his father along with everyone else’s.

“You asshole, you couldn’t tell us?” “When did you decide?” “How long were you planning this?” “This makes you Mrs. Kinney—or are you Mr. Taylor?” “Oh, please!” “You swore you’d never…!” “Shotgun wedding, was it?” “We need a toast!” “It’s about time you made an honest woman out of him.” “You bagged Kinney, sweetie—you did the impossible!” “Oh, sweetie—I’m just so happy for you both!”

It went on and on. The two men were kissed and hugged and questioned. It was warm and happy and their friends couldn’t have been more pleased with the outcome of the last three year’s traumas. The glasses were filled with champagne, the toasts were made and the dinner was declared served, please help yourselves.

As everyone was getting settled with their food, the conversation at a relaxed but still excited level, Brian went out to the kitchen to open another bottle of champagne. Walking in he saw Jennifer and Craig in the middle of what was obviously an argument.

“How the fuck can you go along with this crap? Married? Fucking married?”

“They love each other, Justin is happier than I’ve ever seen him and it’s completely legal.”

“Jesus, Jen, are you so caught up in this ridiculous bullshit that you can accept…”

“Hello Dad—you don’t mind if I call you that now, do you? Come to join the party?”

“Brian, please.”

“They’re out of Champagne. Care for a glass, Craig?”

“You two behave yourselves—both of you. Do you understand me? This is a party and you’re both in my home. You’ll be civil while you’re here and you won’t upset my guests or Justin. Is that clear?”

“Fine, Jen. I’d like to speak with Brian, though. We’ll keep it polite—won’t we?” Brian nodded. Reluctantly, Jen took the bottle with her as she went back to the living room.

Craig took a breath. The entire conversation was conducted in calm voice. “…Is what she said correct? Is it legal?”

“Yes. The blood tests and license are in order. He’s been added to my benefits package at work as my legal spouse and, for what it’s worth, I’ve changed my will to include him.”

“It’s recognized in this state?”

Brian nodded. “How did you find out? Who called you?”

“Evidently Jen invited your mother and sister to come tonight and told them what it was about. Your mother called me this morning. She was upset.”

“Dear old Mom called your from Mass, did she? And are we surprised that she’s not here?”

“Not a close family?”

“Obviously, but it’s none of your business.”

“No, but Justin is and I don’t want him hurt again.”

“Then go into the other room and tell him that you love him and support his decisions.”

“Do you honestly believe that this will last?”

“I’ve waited thirty-one years to get married—legally or otherwise. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do for both of us.”

“How can you say that? He’s twelve years younger than you and the financial inequality alone…”

“Stop. Just stop.” He paused for a moment. “ We love each other, we make one another happy. We share common ideas and goals and hopes and ambitions. We enjoy one another’s company and want to be together, we have a good—a great sex life and we’re friends. And we happen to be queer. That’s the way things are, Craig. You can blow me off, but he’s your son. I don’t give a shit what you think of me, but he wants is for you to accept him the way he is and the way he is fucking fantastic. If you haven’t clued into that yet, then you’re an asshole.”

“You must be a damn good at advertising. You can make a case for buying anything.”

“I am a damn good ad man and I don’t have to make a case for this.”

There was a tug on his hand. “Dada? Juice?”

He picked up the toddler. “Sure Gus.” Craig turned around, getting a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge and handing it to Brian. Taking a plastic cup from the counter, he poured a couple of inches for the child who was looking curiously at the other man. “This is Justin’s Daddy, Mr. Taylor.” Shy, he hid his face in Brian’s neck.

“I’d heard you have a son.” There seemed to be no point in responding to that. “Justin never will.”

“You don’t know that.”

There was a light touch on his arm. “Brian? Mom got a cake. She wants us to cut it.” He saw his father standing there. “Dad? Will you come out and join us?”

“….I’d like that. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Justin nodded, kissed Brian on the cheek, took Gus’ hand and led him back to the group.

Craig continued in the same conversational tone from earlier. “Look, Brian. I don’t like you. I don’t like the way you’ve insinuated yourself into Justin’s life, and how Jen and Molly seem to have taken you in. I don’t like your lifestyle or your values or your slick clothes. I don’t like that you drink and take drugs and that you screw anything that moves—yes, I know about it. I had you checked out when this all started. I wanted to know what Justin was getting involved with.”

“You had me followed?”

“I simply had a friend in the business run a check on you. I know you were an abused child, that you won a full scholarship to Penn, that you graduated in the top three of your class. I know you make more than I do, that you’re considered as good as it gets for your line of work. I know you’re a slut and I know what you like to do in bed. I also know that my son is in love with you and that if you hadn’t helped him after he was injured, he might not have recovered. Of course, if you hadn’t been in his life then, it likely wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

He made a move to go into the living room. “I’ll even accept that you might love him. I believe that he loves you. There isn’t much I can do about this, but I’ll be watching.”

“Brian? We’ve been waiting for you. They all want you to cut the cake.”

Turning to follow her out, he smiled at Craig. “Thanks, Dad.”

Three minutes later Brian and Justin submitted to the time honored and embarrassing ritual of cutting the cake to applause, which, thank God, did not have plastic figures on top.

Craig stayed at the back of the group after kissing Molly on the cheek. He declined a piece of the cake and left shortly after. Vic commented that, given some warning, he could have produced a masterpiece for the occasion, promising to come through for their anniversary.

A little while later Brian and Justin were sitting against one another on eth couch, Brian’s arm around Justin’s shoulders when Michael sat down on the chair next to them.

“This was a surprise.”

“To me, too. He didn’t tell me a think until we got down there. I didn’t even know Mom and Molly were staying at like the next hotel until they showed up at the wedding.”

“How long were you planning this, Brian? You didn’t tell anyone.”

“I told Jen.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Making an excuse, Justin got up to help his mother, leaving them alone to talk. “I just wish that you’d told me—we’re friends, you know.”

“Mikey, I wanted to keep it private. It was between Justin and me. I didn’t even know if he’s say yes until I asked him when we were down there.”

“Yeah, but it’s a really big thing and you didn’t say a word, not that you were even thinking about it or anything.”

“It was private, Mikey.”

“Brian’s right, Michael.”

“Thanks, Ben. It was between me and Justin, no one else.”

“That’s the way it’s going to be from now on?”

“Michael, you’re still my friend, but I’m married to Justin. Hey, be happy for me—OK?”

Michael smiled at him, that sort of sad smile he had that Brian had seen a lot. He pulled Brian’s hand close to look. “Nice ring.”

He smiled. Michael would come around. “Thanks.”

The party wound down, Mel and Lindsay leaving to put Gus to bed, Ben needed to rest, Deb having to leave so she could work the early shift in the morning, Mol and her friend going up to watch TV. Finally there were just Brian, Justin and Jen left cleaning up in the kitchen.

“It went well, everyone is happy for you two.”

“Even Dad might come around.”

“Eventually.”

“You think that he’ll make problems?”

“I doubt it. He’ll be alright.”

“You two will be alright, too. A year ago I didn’t think I’d ever say that, but I think you will be.”

“You’ve been great, Mom. You made it a lot easier for us.” He kissed her cheek.

“I was wondering what you two are you going to do about your names.”

“What about our names?”

“Are you hyphening them or something?”

“I hate that shit.”

“That’s a ‘no’, then Brian?”

“That’s a ‘no’, twat.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Do you two want to come over for brunch tomorrow?”

“Mom. We’re newlyweds. Tomorrow is Sunday. No.”

“…I’m still getting used to this.”

“Good night, Mom.”

The End.

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