Domestic Bliss

The Wrath of Kinney

"Theodore? Get your ass over here." Brian hung up immediately. He knew Ted would heed his call.

Fifteen minutes later Ted appeared in Brian's doorway. "You bellowed?"

"Close the door and sit down," Brian ordered.

"Uh oh," Ted muttered. He wondered what he had done to bring down the wrath of Kinney upon him.

"Have you ever heard of a company called JB3 Industries?" Brian asked getting right to the point.

Ted thought for a moment. "Don't think so. It doesn't ring any bells."

"Find out who they are."

"What do they do?"

"Their latest acquisition was Hartford Graphics. I don't know what else they own."

"Are they a new client?"

"Fuck no!"

"Then, why the interest, if I may ask?"

Brian sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Justin's new job was with Hartford Graphics before it was taken over about a week ago."

"And you want to check out who his boss is? How sweet," Ted grinned.

"Fuck off, Ted. Justin was fired on Friday."

"Fired? Friday? But he's such a good artist."

"I fucking know that. There's something screwy about this whole takeover and everything that has happened since."

"I see. You want to know who owns JB3 Industries and why they fired Justin."

"Justin says he was doing a good job there. There was no reason to fire him."

"I know Justin would do a good job. Anything he's ever done has been excellent," Ted stated.

"Thanks for that, Theodore. I'll tell him you said so. But you can see why he was so confused when they accused him of incompetence and shirking."

"Shirking?"

Brian had to chuckle. That seemed to be everybody's reaction to Justin having been told just that by the asshole Bischoff. "That's the word."

"Holy shit! Are they blind?"

"I think there's something a little more sinister than that going on. The new manager is one Alec Bischoff. See what you can find out about him too."

"Will do, Brian. I'll start on the internet. I should have something for you before close of business."

"Good," Brian said in a distracted manner. He had a bad feeling deep in his gut about this one.

Picking up the phone, Brian dialed his home.

"Hello," Justin answered.

"Got those resumes mailed yet?"

Justin giggled. "I've only been unemployed for the weekend. Give me a break."

"No way! I expect you to keep me in the manner to which I have become accustomed."

"Certainly, your highness."

"Do I detect sarcasm?"

"Maybe just a tad," Justin admitted.

"Have you been painting?"

"How did you know?"

"I could smell the paint fumes over the phone."

"Briiaan!"

"You always paint when you're dealing with difficult or emotional situations."

That statement stopped Justin dead in his tracks. He thought back to the bad times. With the exception of the bashing where he couldn't control his hand, he did paint or sketch as a way to release what he was feeling. The painting he had been working on in his studio was dark and ominous and sad, just the way he felt.

"How do you know that?" Justin asked.

"I'm pretty observant."

"You are, are you?"

"Are you okay?" Brian asked after a short pause.

"Ah, the real reason for your call."

"I worry."

"I'll be fine. Go back to work."

"Yes, sir," Brian smirked but he cut the connection and did just that.

Brian, however, found it difficult to concentrate on his work. He was constantly thinking about Justin and the situation they were in. He wondered when Ted would get back to him. He worried that Justin's dark mood combined with their "marital" troubles might lead to depression. There were too many things to think about. When had his life become so complicated? He knew the answer to that was the night he met Justin Taylor, but he also knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.

As he was packing up for the day there was a knock on his door. Brian called, "Enter."

Ted came in carrying a sheaf of papers. "I finally found out who owns JB3 Industries," he said proudly. "It took a lot of digging. I bet you can never guess."

"Trip Bedford," Brian said softly.

"What? How the fuck? If you already knew, why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it confirmed before I said anything."

"How did you figure it out?" Ted asked. "He hid his trail really well."

"I bet he did. Trip's real name is the same as his father's, Jerome Bedford. He's call Trip because he's the third generation to carry that name. Hence, JB3 Industries."

Ted shook his head and smiled. "You're absolutely right."

"Did you find out anything about this Bischoff asshole?"

"Not much. He's never had a management position in a graphics firm before."

Brian snorted. "I'm not surprised."

"He has worked in other companies, but he has no credentials for the position he was given at Hartford Graphics."

"So, basically he's the flunkie while Trip calls the shots."

"That would be my guess."

"Fuck! What is the matter with that man? I thought we were friends."

"Or lovers?" Ted asked avoiding Brian's eyes.

"I have to do something about this."

"What can you do? He bought the company for an exorbitant price. But that's his prerogative. He can name whomever he wants as manager. What can you do about it?"

"I don't know … yet. Look, Ted, thanks for the information. And this stays between us." Ted nodded as he went out the door.

-----

A couple of days later Cynthia buzzed Brian to tell him that he had a visitor. Brian smiled to himself. He knew his phone call would produce this result.

"Send him in," Brian said.

A few seconds later an elated looking Trip Bedford stepped through the doorway of Brian's office. "I'm so happy you called, Brian. I've wanted to see you again ever since that day…" Trip let his voice trail off not wanting to put into words what had happened between them.

"Have a seat," Brian said flatly.

Trip looked at Brian perhaps expecting a hug or a kiss, since Brian had been the one to call and request this meeting. He sat down looking expectantly at Brian. When nothing was forthcoming Trip said, "So, you wanted to see me?"

"How have things been with you, Trip?"

Trip smiled. That was better. Brian was interested in what he was doing and how he was doing. Maybe all was forgiven. "I've been good."

"And how's business?" Brian asked pointedly.

"Business is great, but surely you didn't call me here from Indianapolis to renew my account."

"The last time I saw you I think I told you to take your business and shove it," Brian smirked.

"But you didn't really mean that, did you?"

"Why would you say that?" Brian asked staring at Trip.

Trip shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. "Well, you called me here today and we've always been … friends."

"Have we?"

Trip frowned. This wasn't going the way he had expected when he had agreed to come to Pittsburgh at Brian's summoning. He had hoped they were going to mend fences and be together again now that that blond kid was out of the picture, at least out of work. Trip smiled at the thought. He was the equal of Brian and now Brian would have seen that, since Justin couldn't even hold onto his menial job.

Trip wanted to get to the point of this visit. "Brian, what's going on? Just why did you ask me to come here?"

"So you could apologize."

"Apologize? For what? I know when we fucked; you probably blamed me for that. But I'm not going to apologize. There was nothing to be sorry for."

Brian felt the steam rise in his head. "Probably blamed you?" Brian demanded. He did fucking blame Trip and he had told him so. But he blamed himself more.

"Let's leave the past in the past and move on," Trip said seeing how the memory had stirred something unpleasant in Brian. It only held fond, no, hot memories for him.

"Some things from the past just keep shoving their unwanted heads into the present."

"What does that mean?"

"I think you know."

Trip felt himself unable to look at Brian. Did Brian know what he had done? He had a sinking feeling deep inside. And then he was afraid. Brian would destroy him if he ever found out. But he couldn't have found out. He had covered his tracks very carefully.

The silence hung between them like a huge weight ready to crush everything beneath it. Then Brian moved. He picked up a file from his desk and practically threw it at Trip. Trip grabbed it and felt his heart die as he saw JB3 Industries clearly printed across the front of the file.

"Brian," Trip said but it came out as little more than a whimper.

"I know what you did, and it's just about the most despicable thing I've ever seen."

"What … what do you mean?"

"YOU are JB3 Industries. YOU bought Hartford Graphics. YOU had Justin fired. YOU tried to make him feel like shit."

"Brian…"

"Don't say my name. It makes me sick to my stomach to hear it come out of your mouth."

Trip pulled himself together slightly and sat taller in his chair. "Brian, I have to protest these accusations. I have little to do with the day to day running of any companies that I might own."

"I never knew you were such a good liar," Brian said staring at Trip. "Your father would be so proud."

Trip felt the dagger pierce his heart. "Don't mention my father," he hissed. He knew his father would be so ashamed of what he had done.

"I'll mention whatever the fuck I want!"

"Brian, please…"

"Trip, I did think at one time we were friends, and maybe if what happened after your father's funeral hadn't happened…"

"I don't regret anything that happened," Trip said defiantly. He would not let Brian sully what they had shared together.

"Well, I regret ever meeting you, and this comes from the man who doesn't do regrets." Brian shook his head. He saw Trip wince. Maybe there still was a conscience in there somewhere. "Trip, I want you to apologize to Justin."

"Are you fucking nuts?"

"No, I'm completely sane, and if you were too, you'd see that this whole thing is crazy. You have to put an end to it."

"Then come be with me," Trip ventured.

"I love Justin."

"No, you love me."

"How many times and in how many ways do I have to tell you that that is not the case. I love Justin. That's who I want to be with."

"He's just a boy. He can't stick with you. How many times has he left you? I'm the man you need."

"If you don't stop saying fucking shit like that, I'm going to come around this desk and beat the fucking crap out of you."

Trip visually recoiled at Brian's words. He had never heard Brian talk like that before. "I think it's time for me to leave," Trip said standing up. Clearly there was no reasoning with Brian. Trip had been brought there under false pretenses. He needed to get out of there as fast as he could.

"You're not going anywhere," Brian stated and he moved to stand between Trip and the door out of the office.

"You can't seriously be threatening me," Trip scoffed although he could hear the little vibration of fear in his voice.

"I'm going to do whatever it takes to put an end to this once and for all."

"How can it end," Trip moaned slumping back into his chair. "I love you."

"You don't love me. You don't even know what love is. Justin would never do something like this that would hurt me so much."

"Hurt you?" Trip asked bewildered. "I'd never hurt you, Brian."

"What hurts Justin hurts me."

"No," Trip tried to deny Brian's words, but he merely sounded defeated.

"Your father would not want this, Trip," Brian tried again. "He was a good man and he raised you better than this."

"Raised me to be alone," Trip mumbled.

"You don't have to be alone. You need therapy. You're a great looking guy and you have so much going for you…"

"Then why don't you want me?" Trip asked the tears evident in his voice.

"If I hadn't met Justin, I might have … wanted you. But that's not the case. I did meet Justin and I love him. Not you!"

Trip's head dropped down and he cradled it in his hands his elbows resting on his knees. The sobs that shook his body could not be disguised so easily.

"Trip," Brian said softly venturing around the desk and within reach of the devastated man. "It's not too late to make this right."

"I …I can't," Trip gulped. "I love you."

"You think you do, but I don't love you. That makes all the difference. When that's the case, it's not love; it's obsession."

"Obsession," Trip repeated wiping at his eyes.

Brian went to the conference table and poured Trip a glass of water. He brought it back and handed it to the man. "Drink this."

Trip swallowed some water and looked up at Brian. He knew that everything Brian had said was true, but he just couldn't let go of the dream of him and Brian being together. "Don't you have anything stronger?" he asked trying to get control of his emotions.

"That's not what you need at the moment."

"I suppose you're going to tell me what I need," Trip said.

"I already have. You need treatment. Justin and I are seeing a psychologist, Dr. Frank Jamison. I would recommend that you see him too, or somebody else back in Indianapolis."

"You're seeing a psychologist … with Justin?"

"Don't get your hopes up that things aren't good between Justin and me," Brian lied. He didn't want Trip thinking that he had an opening. "We've seen Frank before, and we go back … periodically."

"You do?"

Brian could see the look Trip was giving him. He knew he should never have mentioned that he and Justin were seeing a psychologist. "Look! The point I'm trying to make is that Frank has been able to help us sort things out. Someone like that could do the same for you."

"I guess I could see … Frank."

"It doesn't have to be Frank," Brian said hurriedly.

"It doesn't matter," Trip replied. "Is that all I have to do to make things right between us?"

"No, I told you before you have to tell Justin what you did and apologize."

"I don't think I could do that."

"Then I hope you rot in Hell," Brian stated emphatically.

"Brian…"

"You heard the terms. What's it going to be?"

"If I apologize, where does that leave us?"

"I won't hate you like I do at this moment."

Trip shuddered. The thought that Brian hated him made him physically ill. "You don't hate me, do you?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"With all my heart and soul."

"I … I'm sorry," Trip managed to get out.

"It's not me that you need to apologize to."

"I … I guess I should try to talk to Justin."

"Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Justin's at home. You can tell him how sorry you are right now."

"Now? I don't know. I … need to think this through."

"If you intend to apologize, then it shouldn't matter if it's now or later."

"I … I suppose."

"Let's go.

Reluctantly Trip stood up and followed Brian out to his car.

"Do you have a rental car?" Brian asked.

"No, I took a cab from the airport."

"Get in."

The ride to Brian's home was mostly in silence. Trip tried a couple of times to make nice with Brian, but Brian cut him off, telling him he should be thinking about what he was going to say to Justin. As they approached the house, Trip had decided exactly what he was going to say.

Brian opened the front door and called out for Justin. Trip followed Brian into the house. They found Justin sketching in the family room.

"Hey," Brian said.

"Hey," Justin smiled up at his partner until movement behind Brian caught his eye. His face changed immediately to one of disbelief and horror. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"He has something to say to you," Brian replied looking knowingly at Trip.

"Get him out of here. I don't want him in our home."

"Not until you hear this," Brian said firmly.

"If he won't leave, I will," Justin said standing up.

"Wait, Justin," Trip said raising his hand to keep Justin in the room. "I need to say this."

"Say what?" Justin asked.

"I need to say that I love Brian and I want to be with him and he wants to be with me." Trip blurted it all out before he could think or regret his words.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" Brian reacted as his fist connected with Trip's face. I should fucking kill you!" Brian grabbed Trip by the lapels of his jacket and bodily hauled him to the front door of the house. He yanked the door open and planting his foot firmly in Trip's backside he pushed with all his might. Trip went flying down the driveway until he lost his footing and lay sprawled on the front lawn. "Too bad it isn't garbage day so they could pick up the trash!" Brian yelled at him. "If you aren't off our property in the next three minutes, I'm calling the police." Brian slammed the door.

Quickly he returned to the family room where he found Justin huddled on the couch.

"Are you all right? I brought him here to apologize to you. He said he would."

"Apologize to me for what?" Justin asked. "You didn't fuck him again, did you?"

Brian kneeled by the couch. "Justin, I'll never touch Trip Bedford again. I already promised you that. Trip owns JB3 Industries. He bought out the Hartford Company and had you fired. I found out a couple of days ago, and I wanted him to tell you. I wanted him to apologize, to grovel, for all the damage he's done to us, to you."

"So why did he say what he did?"

"Because he's a fucking asshole and he thought he could hurt you."

"He did hurt me. I almost believed him."

"Almost?"

"Until I saw the look on your face."

"What look?"

"It was murderous. I've never seen you look like that even when you were very, very angry. It was … scary."

"I didn't mean to scare you," Brian said softly. He realized just how out of control he had been.

"I did enjoy seeing you lift Trip off the floor by his lapels. You have superhuman strength when you're angry."

Brian smirked. "I am Rage."

"My hero."

"You mean that?" Brian asked with a frown.

"I do," Justin cooed running his fingers down Brian's cheek. "You saved our home from the evil villain."

"I shouldn't have brought him here."

"It's okay. I did enjoy the ending of this comic book adventure."

"You should have seen him flying down the driveway when I kicked his ass."

"You did?" Justin chuckled. "I can see that in the next issue of Rage."

"You're not mad at me for bringing him here?"

"I was, but I'm not now."

Brian let out a sigh of relief.

"In fact," Justin said. "This Trip incident has had a surprising effect on my lips."

"On your lips?"

"They're craving a great kiss. Do you know where I could get one of those?"

Brian knew an invitation when he heard one. And he wasn't about to pass this one up. He pulled Justin toward him and gave him his best toe curling kiss. That was followed by another and another. Finally he pulled back to look into the dark, lust filled eyes of his partner.

"Let's go to bed," Brian said gently as he pulled Justin to his feet.

On the way to their bedroom they shed pieces of clothing so that by the time they stood beside their bed they were naked. Brian ran his hands up and down Justin's arms.

"We're all right, aren't we?" Brian asked. He was referring to what had just happened.

"I think we're more than all right," Justin replied. He was referring to the declaration that Brian had made by kicking Trip Bedford's ass. It was so much more than the simple act of the kick. It proved to Justin what each of them, both he and Trip, meant to Brian.

Brian shoved Justin back onto their bed and covered his body with his own. He nibbled at Justin's neck and collarbone, and then kissed his way down to Justin's straining cock. With a swipe of his tongue through the slit he collected the precum bubbling there. His next kiss let Justin taste himself.

Justin reached into the nightstand and handed Brian a condom and lube.

"It won't be much longer and we won't have to use these anymore," Brian whispered.

"I know, but it's okay for now."

Brian rolled on the condom and lubed up. He squirted some lube into Justin's hole before he lifted Justin's legs onto his shoulders. Gently he pushed in until he was home, safe and warm and where he wanted to be. He began his rhythm and felt Justin respond in kind. With a smile he leaned forward and kissed Justin's full lips.

"I love you," Brian said as he began to speed up the pace. They were coming to the end of the ride. Brian wondered if Justin would pull back like he had every time lately. With a final few thrusts and a couple of tugs on Justin's throbbing dick, they were both coming. It was explosive and satisfying and complete.

"Yes," Brian groaned as he rolled away.

"You felt it?"

"The difference?"

"Yeah."

"We're back. You're back. It was the way it should be."

Justin looked into the hazel eyes and nodded. They had found each other again.

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