High School Reunion

Chapter 6

* * *

“I don’t want to leave you,” Justin moaned.

It was late Sunday afternoon and he was going to be getting on a plane in about three hours. He was going back to New York, to his supposedly dazzling career and bright future. He was leaving Brian behind. He was leaving everything behind, everything that mattered.

“We had a deal,” Brian said softly holding Justin against him in the big bed. That’s where they had spent the whole day, only getting up long enough to answer nature’s call for booze, food or toilet.

“I want to re-negotiate that deal,” Justin declared.

“Un unh.”

“Please?”

“Nope, a deal’s a deal. You stay till the agreed upon time six months from now.”

“And if I break that deal?”

“I’ll have to shoot you.”

“You couldn’t do that, could you?” Justin asked batting his lashes at Brian.

“I could try.”

Justin flung himself out of Brian’s arms and onto his back. He stared at the ceiling. “You’re so mean sometimes.”

“Mean? You sound like you’re two years old.”

“That’s how I feel when you send me away.”

“I’m not sending you away. You decided New York was the place to be for your career. I’m merely assisting you in accomplishing your goals.”

Justin heaved a huge sigh. “Why do you have to sound so logical?”

“Because it’s what you need to do.”

“Why does everyone else think they know what’s good for me more than I do?”

“Why do you think you know what’s good for me more than I do?” Brian shot back at Justin.

“Wh…what do you mean?”

“Didn’t you decide it would be good for me to go to this high school reunion, even though I clearly told you I didn’t want to go?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Yeah, but, nothing! You decided I should go so I’m going, and according to you, it will be fucking wonderful.”

“Brian, I told you you didn’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“After the fact.”

“I … I’m sorry if I pushed you into this, and you really might hate it.”

“The hate part remains to be seen, but I expect you to be there with me. Deal?”

“Of course, that goes without saying.”

“We’re pretty damn good together, aren’t we?” Brian whispered carding his fingers through Justin’s hair.

“Fabulous!”

Brian laughed. “We’ll show them just how fabulous when we arrive at that reunion.”

“You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?” Justin asked with a little grin.

“Maybe just a teensy bit.”

“I knew it,” Justin gloated. “You’re going to blow their socks off when we walk in. You’ll look fabulous, and you’ll have me on your arm.”

“The little woman,” Brian said tongue in cheek.

“Your handsome and debonair partner,” Justin said confidently.

“Debonair?” Brian snorted. “If you wear your cargo pants and soccer shirt, no one will mistake you for debonair.”

“Okay, asshole, what if I let you dress me?”

“Let me dress you? You couldn’t do it without me.”

“I have … some fashion sense,” Justin defended himself.

Brian snorted. “Yes, you do. But it’s not a very good fashion sense.” He watched Justin’s face fall at his words and regretted being so harsh. “I know you don’t have the money to spend or the interest in fashion that I do, so why don’t you let me select a new outfit for you to wear to the reunion. I promise we’ll both look fabulous.”

“Usually I don’t want you buying me things, but this is a very special circumstance, so I’m going to say okay. Just don’t go overboard,” Justin warned.

“Me, go overboard? When have I ever done that?”

“Let’s see … Michael’s birthday party, the Rage bash, the…”

“Okay, okay, I get the point. But those were very special circumstances,” Brian said tongue in cheek, throwing Justin’s own words back at him.

“Well, don’t do anything like that.”

“You mean you won’t wear the purple suit with the fuchsia shirt I have hanging in the closet for you?”

Justin glared at Brian, seeing the humor in his eyes. He knew Brian was baiting him. “And when did you select these lovely garments? We haven’t left the loft since you decided to go to the reunion.”

“I’ve been holding it in reserve for a very special circumstance.”

Justin had to laugh. The whole thing was so ludicrous. Brian would never choose a purple suit, and certainly would not pair it with a fuchsia shirt. Emmett might, but not Brian. “You are so full of shit,” Justin laughed smacking Brian in the chest.

“You just figuring that out now?”

“Yeah, you’ve had me bamboozled all these years,” Justin told him.

“Poor innocent little you,” Brian cooed.

“Yes, taken advantage of by the big, bad Kinney.”

“Pulleease. You’ll have me weeping in sympathy.”

“Crocodile tears.”

“I don’t do tears … of any type,” Brian stated.

Justin opened his mouth to contradict that statement, but thought better of it. “Why are we talking when we could be fucking?”

“Damned if I know,” Brian said. He rolled over onto his lover and proceeded to make them both forget why they had stopped fucking to talk. Bodies could say so much more than words.

When they came up for air some time later, they headed for the shower. Justin needed to start getting his shit together to go back to New York. While he was packing, Brian went to check his email. There was a response from the high school reunion committee by the looks of the email address.

Before opening it, he felt compelled to open another window and click on the reunion site. With a sigh of relief he noted that his yearbook picture was no longer on the screen. Some other poor schmuck had taken his place. Brian studied the face for a minute, and finally realized that it was Bobby Facelli, the guy who had been killed in a car accident a few years before.

“Shit,” Brian muttered.

“Did you say something?” Justin asked from the bedroom.

“No,” Brian replied. He didn’t think he wanted to tell Justin about his dead schoolmate. It would be a real downer, even though Brian hardly knew the guy. He wanted Justin’s week in Pittsburgh to end on a high note, not thinking about someone hardly any older than Justin who had died far too young.

Brian shut the window and went back to his email. He wondered what the committee in its infinite wisdom would have to say. “Welcome to the reunion from Hell,” popped into Brian’s brain.

He clicked on the email to open it.

“Fuck!” he reacted as he read it.

“What is it?” Justin asked coming down the steps from the bedroom with his stuffed duffel bag over his shoulder.

“I got a reply from the reunion committee,” Brian said keeping the emotion out of his voice as much as possible.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Justin asked.

“Not in this case. Guess who’s the head of the reunion committee?” Brian asked.

“How the fuck should I know? I don’t know any of the people you went to high school with, except for Michael.”

“You heard his name today?”

“Who are you talking about?” Justin asked with a frown.

“Buck Hansen, the guy whose hand I slammed in the locker door. He’s the head of the fucking reunion committee.”

“Shit!” was Justin’s response. “What did he say?”

“He said he’s looking forward to seeing me again, and so are the other members of the football team.”

“Double shit and a fuck thrown in!”

“Yeah, this reunion will be a blast, if it doesn’t kill me.” Brian logged off and stood up. “Let’s get you to the airport.”

“Brian, we don’t have to go to the reunion,” Justin reminded him.

“I’m going. No one’s intimidating me. And you’ll be by my side. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then let’s get you to the plane, so you can come back here in a month to accompany me to this goddam soiree.”

“You got a deal, big guy,” Justin said as they headed out the door.

 

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