Heartache and Afternoon Delight  

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Brian opened the loft door.  It was 8:30 and he had a pounding headache.  Work had been a bugger.  His idiot underlings had fucked up the presentation for tomorrow, and he had spent the last four hours fixing it.  Usually he could rely on Kevin, but even he had screwed up this time.  Brian wanted something to eat, and then some sleep.  Maybe that would help to stop the thumping drum inside his head.

 

He glanced around and didn’t see Justin.

 

“Shit!” he thought.  “I was hoping he’d have some dinner ready.”

 

He walked up to the bedroom and got rid of his suit.  He pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt, and went to the kitchen.  He opened the fridge to find the parlor bare.

 

“Fuck!” he said aloud, and slammed the refrigerator door.

 

“Brian,” a voice said.

 

Brian jumped.  “What the fuck?”

 

He walked over to the couch and saw Justin sitting on the floor, his back against the couch and his feet under the coffee table.

 

“You scared the shit out of me.  I didn’t think you were here.  What the fuck are you doing?”

Justin merely stared up at him, a strange look on his face.

 

“Justin, answer me.”

 

“I’m not sure how to answer you.”

 

“What?”

 

“You asked what I was doing.  I was thinking.”

 

“Why didn’t you say something when I came in?”

 

“I don’t know.  I sort of heard you, but my mind was somewhere else.”  Justin looked kind of scared.

 

“What’s going on?  What were you thinking about?”

 

“All of the people we’ve hurt, and who have hurt us.”

 

“What the fuck for?”  Brian was shocked.

 

“It’s quite a list, when you put them all together.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about any of them.”

 

“I know, but don’t you wonder why it’s such a long list?”

 

“I never think about it.”

 

“Maybe you should.”

 

“What the fuck for?  So I can be sad like you?”

 

Justin winced, and said nothing.

 

“Get up.  I want something to eat.  I’m going to order Chinese,” Brian said, pulling Justin’s arm.

 

Justin made no move to get up.  He didn’t resist, but he didn’t help either.  Brian dropped his arm and left him sitting there, while he went to the desk to order dinner.  That done, he came back to the couch and sat down next to Justin.

 

“Justin, stop this!  Come up here and sit beside me.”

 

Justin looked up, and slowly with seemingly enormous effort, he got off the floor and sat next to Brian.

 

“I have the mother of all headaches, and I’ve had a fucking lousy day at work.  I don’t need this shit, Justin.”

 

“I’m sorry, but it’s something I got thinking about this afternoon.  Are we bad people, Brian?”

 

“Fuck!  No!  Stop this!”

 

“I wish I could, but once I got started, I couldn’t stop.  We must be horrible people to have all this happen to us.”

 

“That’s crazy.  We’re no saints, but we’re not fucking monsters either.”

 

“But listen.  There’s Chris Hobbs, my dad, the Sap, Kip Thomas, Ethan, Noel, even Gardner Vance.”

 

“Shut up, Justin!  You’ll drive us both crazy rehashing this.”

 

“But they all hate us,” Justin said.  “Why do so many people hate us?”

 

“They’re jealous of us, of what we have.”

 

“Maybe so, but look at what they’ve done to us.”

 

“I don’t want to look at what they’ve done.  I want you to fucking stop this.  Right now!  Do you hear me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.  The food will be here soon.  Do you want a beer?”

 

“No.”

 

“I’m getting one, and some aspirins,” Brian said, getting up.

 

Justin sat, saying nothing.

 

Brian got his beer and a couple of aspirins.  The buzzer sounded, announcing that dinner had arrived.  He paid the man and set the food out on the coffee table.  He got some plates and cutlery and brought them over.  Justin sat, saying nothing.

 

After opening the containers, Brian dished up a plateful of food.  He extended it toward Justin, but the boy shook his head.

 

Brian shrugged and started eating it.  It tasted fine, but he wasn’t enjoying it with Justin sitting silent and rigid beside him.  Finally, with half his food eaten, Brian couldn’t stand it anymore.  He dropped the plate onto the coffee table, causing a loud crash.

 

Justin jumped.

 

“Do I have your attention?” Brian asked.

 

Justin looked at him.

 

“I want this shit to stop!” Brian said, enunciating each word carefully.

 

“We don’t always get what we want,” Justin replied.

 

“Fuck!  I’m going to bed,” Brian said, getting up.

 

“Don’t, please!  I think we should talk about this.”  Justin grabbed his arm, preventing Brian from moving away.

 

“This is getting us nowhere,” Brian stated, but he made no further attempt to leave.

 

“Sit down, please, and I’ll try to explain.”

 

Brian looked at him, deciding what to do.  With a sigh he sat back down.  He really didn’t want to talk about this, but he knew that Justin needed to.

 

“So,” Brian said, “what do you want to talk about?”

 

“Why.”

 

“Why?’ Brian asked.

 

“Why all those people did what they did.”

 

“Their reasons weren’t all the same.”

 

“I know, but I can’t come to terms with why so many people seem to hate us.  I’ve always tried to be nice to people, but I wasn’t going to let them push me around.”

 

“And I’m rarely nice to people, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to let them push me around.”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed.  Justin stared at him for a moment.  “Do you think it’s because we’re gay?”

 

Brian snorted.  “Of course,” he sneered.  “They either hate us like Hobbs and your dad, or lust after us till they learn to hate us.”

 

Justin looked shocked.  Brian was right.  Hobbs and his dad were in a special category, but the others had started out as lovers, or tricks, and then come to hate them.  “You’re right,” Justin agreed.  “I wonder why it always went bad?”

 

“They wanted more than we were willing to give them.”

 

“I suppose, and when we refused them, they did terrible things.”

“Yeah, lawsuits, blackmail,” Brian said, shaking his head.

 

“Craziness!”

 

“Pretty fucking loony!” Brian agreed.

 

“They’re crazy, but what about us?”

 

“Are you calling me nuts?”

 

Justin smiled, for the first time all evening, seeming to relax.  “No, totally unreasonable and impossible most of the time, but not nuts.”

 

“Well, thanks a heap!  That’s a ringing endorsement.”

 

Justin kissed him.  “How’s your head?”

 

“Better, since I took the aspirin.”

 

“Want me to help relieve your tension?”

 

“That would be great, since you’ve been adding to it for the last couple of hours.”  Brian wasn’t ready to be kind.

 

“I’m sorry,” Justin said softly.  “Do you think we should try to talk to all those people?”

 

“What the fuck for?  So they can hurt us some more?”

 

Justin was surprised.  It wasn’t often that Brian admitted to being hurt.  “I thought we might be able to fix things, a bit.”

 

“Justin, you do what you want, but I’m not into mending fences with that bunch of assholes.  I say, stay away from them, the farther the better.”

 

“I don’t know.  I’d like better relationships with my dad and your boss.  I don’t like it when people hate me.”

 

“I say fuck ‘em!”

 

“All right.  I’ll leave it for now.”

 

“Good.  Did you say something about tension relief?”

 

“Yes, Brian,” Justin said, running his thumb over Brian’s luscious bottom lip.

 

Brian kissed Justin, sticking his tongue down the boy’s throat.  Justin moaned that lovely throaty sound Brian loved to hear.  He tugged Justin’s T-shirt up and over his head.  He tugged on Justin’s nipple ring with his teeth.  Justin groaned.

 

“Maybe I can get rid of this headache, and make him forget about those assholes he’s worrying about,” Brian thought.  He gave his attention to the other nipple.

 

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Justin made no further reference to the people who hated them.  Brian was grateful for that.  He didn’t want to think about that pack of shits, and he sure didn’t want Justin dwelling on all the bad things that had happened to them.

 

For the next week things seemed to be normal.  Brian and Justin went to work and to school, ate dinner together most nights, went to Babylon a couple of times and had the usual quota of sex.  Justin never brought up the subject of their enemies, and that caused Brian a nagging worry.  It wasn’t like Justin to give up so easily.

 

One night as Brian arrived home in the Jeep, he saw Justin racing down the street.  Before Brian could call to him, Justin flew into the apartment building.  Brian parked the Jeep, wondering what was going on.  He made his way up to the loft and found Justin frantically making dinner.

 

“You’re early,” Justin said, looking worried.  “I thought I’d have this ready when you got home.”

 

“I’m not starving,” Brian said.  “I saw you running down the street.  Why the hurry?”

 

“I wanted to have dinner ready for you.”

 

“You don’t have to do that.  Why were you late?”

 

“I ... had a project to finish.”  Brian noted the hesitation, and wondered why Justin was lying to him.

 

“Oh,” Brian said.  “I’ll get changed and give you a hand.”

 

“Thanks,” Justin replied.

 

That was the first lie.  There were more to come.

 

The next day Justin wasn’t there when Brian arrived from work.  Brian changed and ordered take-out, expecting Justin to come home at any minute.  By 9:30 Brian had picked at the take-out, downed several beers, and was beginning to worry about Justin’s continued absence.

 

A little after ten the loft door opened and a tired looking Justin walked in.

 

“Hey,” Brian said.  “Where have you been?”

 

“Umm ... working on my project.”

 

“Another lie,” Brian thought.  “You look tired.  There’s some take-out in the fridge,” he said to Justin.

 

“I’m not hungry.”  That made Brian’s radar blink.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No ... I’m just tired.” 

 

“Lie number two,” Brian counted to himself.  “What’s going on, Justin?” Brian asked.

 

“Nothing.  I’ve just been busy.  I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”

 

“I’ll join you,” Brian said, turning off the computer.

 

Justin hesitated for a fraction of a second, then his sunshine smile sort of appeared, and he said, “Sure.”

 

Brian heard the little voice in his head whisper a warning, but he didn’t want to listen to it.

 

He followed Justin into the shower and began soaping the boy’s back.  He felt Justin lean back against him, and he wrapped his arms around Justin’s chest.  The warm water poured over them, but he felt Justin shiver.

 

“What’s going on?” he whispered in Justin’s ear.

 

He felt Justin stiffen.  The boy turned around and kissed Brian, hard.  He reached down and grabbed Brian’s growing erection.

 

“Let’s go to bed,” he said, stepping out of the shower.  Brian looked at him, and followed.  They quickly dried each other off, rubbing and kissing strategic areas.  By the time they were dry, they were both ready.  Once on the bed, Brian quickly entered Justin from behind, as they spooned together.  He sensed that Justin didn’t want to look at him right now.  He made slow, delicious love to Justin, hoping to make his lover feel better.  He knew something was wrong, and if this couldn’t solve it, it might help on some level.

 

When they both came, Brian held Justin tight against his chest, his back still to Brian.  Brian could feel Justin’s heart pounding from their exertions, but then the boy sighed.

 

Brian had to ask again, “Justin, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

Justin squirmed around to face him.  He plastered his best sunshine smile on his face, and said, “That was nice, Brian.  Nothing’s wrong.”  Brian saw no smile in Justin’s eyes.

 

A huge yawn came next.  “Nothing’s wrong.  Really.”

 

Brian wasn’t sure if he should pursue it further, but Justin decided that for him by turning over, closing his eyes and giving every appearance of falling asleep.  Brian looked at him intently, tempted to call him on his fake sleep, but decided against it.  He snuggled closer to Justin making sure one arm draped protectively over the boy.  Before long they both actually were asleep.

 

In the morning Brian tried once more to get Justin to talk, while they shaved.  Justin brushed off Brian’s questions, saying he had this big project due soon, and had been working long hours on it.  That’s why he was so tired.  Brian thought his lover still looked tired, although they had both slept pretty well.

 

Not getting anywhere with his inquiries, Brian determined to use other methods to find out what was going on.  He dropped Justin at the IFA, called Cynthia to tell her he’d be late, and headed for the comic book store.

 

Michael was happy to see him.  Brian got right to the point.  “Have you and Justin been working on Rage lately?”

 

“Not too much.  Why?”

 

“There’s something going on and he won’t talk to me about it.”

 

“Not another Ethan thing?”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Good,” Michael said, looking relieved.  “One of those incidents was more than enough.”

 

“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with him?”

 

Michael thought for a moment.  “A couple of days ago, when I went by the apartment after I closed the store, Justin was there with Emmett.  He looked upset, but he said he was delivering some Rage drawings.  He sort of threw them at me and took off.  I thought it was strange that he’d take the drawings to the apartment, instead of the store.  I’m hardly ever there.”

 

“He seemed upset?” Brian asked, picking up on that one remark of Michael’s.

 

“Yeah.  Edgy, kind of agitated.”

 

“Did he say anything?”

 

“Not about that.  Maybe Emmett would know more.  They were talking seriously when I got there.”

 

“Thanks, Mikey.  If you see Justin, try to find out whatever you can.”

 

“Sure.  Do you think it’s something serious?”

 

“I wish I knew.  I fucking hate it when he gets quiet like this.  I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on.”

 

“Good luck,” Michael said, as Brian closed the door behind him.

 

Brian went to work, but had a lot of trouble concentrating.  His mind kept creating various scenarios of what might be wrong with Justin.  They ran the gamut from trivial problems like trouble at work to life shattering events like a fatal illness.  His brain gave him no peace.

 

He called Emmett and asked him to meet him at Woody’s after work.  Emmett tried to get out of it, but Brian persisted, and finally Emmett agreed.  “He knows something,” Brian thought when he hung up.

 

Brian arrived at Woody’s before Emmett.  “He better show up,” Brian thought, as he ordered a beer and found a quiet table.  About ten minutes later Emmett arrived, not looking thrilled to see Brian.

 

“Hoping I’d leave, if you were late?” Brian asked.

 

“Of course not,” Emmett replied, but the look on his face said that that was exactly what he had hoped.

 

Brian wasn’t sure about how to approach the subject of Justin, so he decided head-on would be best.  “Michael tells me you and Justin have been having clandestine meetings.”

 

Emmett visibly cringed.  “Nothing’s going on, Brian,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too scared.

 

“And I say something is going on, and you’re going to tell me.”

“I can’t,” Emmett said, looking pathetic.

 

“Oh, yes you can.  Spill!” Brian ordered.  He saw Emmett’s back straighten.  “Oh, oh,” he thought.  “He’s not going to tell me.”

 

“I promised Justin to keep his confidence, and you’re not going to bully it out of me!”  Emmett started to get up.

 

Brian grabbed his arm.  “Wait!  Please.”  He decided to take a different tack.  “I’m worried about him.  He’s not sick, is he, or in some kind of trouble?”

 

Emmett softened a little at Brian’s genuine concern.  “No, he’s not sick or in trouble.”

 

“Can you give me a hint?  I want to help him.”

 

Emmett seemed to be weighing his options.  After a minute of dithering, he said, “You could talk to his father.”

 

“His father?”

Emmett nodded.

 

“Talk to his father about what?”

 

“I can’t say any more,” Emmett said, standing up.

 

“His father won’t talk to me,” Brian pleaded.

 

Emmett merely shrugged and left.

 

Brian remained at Woody’s for another hour.  He ordered several double Beams, trying to decide what to do.  He was sure this had something to do with Justin’s worry about people hating him.  Why did it matter?  Brian’s philosophy consisted of fuck ‘em and forget ‘em, but he had learned with Frank’s help that Justin’s psyche didn’t work that way.  He wanted to connect with people.  He wanted to be liked.  He wanted to be loved.

 

Brian came to the conclusion that Justin must have made contact with his father again.  It would stand to reason that he would go first to the most important person to him on that list.  He wondered how Craig Taylor had reacted.  By Justin’s recent mood, he didn’t think Craig had responded well to Justin’s overtures.  He wondered what Craig had said or done to Justin.  It couldn’t be good.  When would Justin learn to forget about bigoted assholes like his father?  The answer was never, because Justin lived in hope that he could make things better.  All that that hope would get him would be heartache.

 

Justin would be willing to take far too much shit to get back in his father’s good graces.  Brian decided he would have to talk to Craig Taylor.  He didn’t like the way Justin had been acting, lying to him, and growing small and closed in front of his eyes.  He knew his father must be the source of these changes.  He also didn’t like Justin’s occasional sunshine facade that he knew hid something much darker.  That really scared him.

 

Brian dialed information and got Craig’s number and address.

 

“Now what do I do?” he mumbled to himself.  He didn’t think Craig would talk to him on the phone.  He’d just hang up.  He probably wouldn’t let him into his home.  Maybe he should go to Craig’s office, tomorrow.

 

Brian finally headed home.  He hoped to find the old Justin there, and make a meeting with shithead Craig Taylor unnecessary.  Justin had dinner ready, but said very little. He used his sunshine facade when Brian asked him a direct question, but otherwise he was closed and silent.  His eyes told the story, empty and weary.  Brian had to try once more.

 

“So what have you been up to lately?” Brian asked.

 

Justin gave a weak, fake smile.  “Nothing much.  Working on my project.”

 

“How’s it going?”

 

“All right.”

 

“What’s it about?”

 

“Umm ... oh, just a painting.”

 

“A lie,” Brian thought.  “Doesn’t it have a theme?”

 

“Oh ... yeah ... well, no.  It’s anything we want to do.”

 

“Lie number two.  Shall we try for three?” Brian thought.  “So what’s yours about?”

 

“Umm ... abstract.  Nothing special.”

 

“Don’t you have an underlying idea, even if it’s abstract?”

 

“What’s with the fucking inquisition?  Since when do you care what my work’s about?”  Justin’s eyes flared.

 

“At least that’s honest.” Brian thought.  “I’m interested in what you do.  My investment, you know,” Brian said, trying to get Justin to smile.

 

Instead, Justin grimaced.  “Yeah ... your investment.  Not worth much these days.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.  Forget it.”  Justin stood up and started clearing the table.

 

“Will you fucking tell me what’s going on?”  Brian couldn’t stand it any longer.

 

Brian saw the sunshine facade go up again.  “Nothing’s wrong,” Justin said in a flat voice.  “Let’s go to Babylon.”

 

“You want to go to Babylon?” Brian asked, startled by this abrupt change in direction.

 

“Sure, or we could fuck,” Justin replied, blank eyes staring out at him.

 

“Whatever,” Brian said, turning away from the look of those eyes.

 

“So which do you want to do?”

“You decide.”

 

“Babylon,” Justin chose.

 

So they went to Babylon, and Justin danced himself to exhaustion.  When they finally returned to the loft, Justin took off his clothes and immediately got into bed.  Brian wanted to fuck, but not this shell of the Justin he loved.

 

“Aren’t you going to take a shower?” Brian asked.

 

“Too tired,” Justin mumbled, half asleep.

 

Brian crawled into bed beside him.  He could smell the sweat of other men Justin had danced with.  He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and felt it shift away.  Brian closed his eyes and tried to swallow the feeling of dread rising from the pit of his stomach.

 

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Brian got off the elevator.  He saw Craig Taylor’s firm straight ahead.  He took a deep breath, thinking of the sad, tired boy he had dropped off at school.  He could do this, for Justin.

 

The secretary buzzed Craig and announced Brian.  He heard Craig say that he wasn’t in to Mr. Kinney.  Brian glanced around and saw a door with Craig’s name on it.  He walked over and opened it to stare into the face of Craig Taylor.

 

The secretary was behind Brian, trying to tell him that he couldn’t go in there.  He heard her ask Craig if she should call security.  He said no and motioned her away.  She shut the door, leaving them alone.

 

Brian stared at Craig.  He looked ten years older than the last time Brian had seen him.  He seemed tired out and worn. 

 

“What the fuck do you want, Kinney?” Craig asked, acid dripping from his tongue,

 

Now that he was face to face with Justin’s father, Brian wasn’t sure what to say to this man that he detested.  “It’s about Justin,” he finally managed to say.

 

“I don’t want to discuss anything about Justin, especially with you.”

 

“Well, you’re going to!  I want some answers.”

 

“To what?” Craig asked.

 

“I know he’s been to see you.  What did you say to him?”

 

“That’s none of your damn business!”

Brian noted that he didn’t deny that he’d seen Justin.  He must be on the right track.  “Justin is my business,” Brian stated.

 

“Since you corrupted him!”  Craig glared at Brian.

 

Brian felt his hand become a fist, and willed himself to stay calm.  He needed information.  “Did you hurt him?” Brian asked.

 

“Why don’t you talk to your fuck buddy?  Is that the right term?  Ask Justin,” Craig sneered.

 

“He’s not talking these days, and for Justin that’s not good.  I think you’re the cause.”

 

“Just because he’s smart enough to shut you out, doesn’t mean that I had anything to do with it.”

 

“I don’t want to spar with you.  I want to know what’s wrong with Justin.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with him, except for his perverted lifestyle with you.”

 

“Is that what you’ve been telling him?”

 

“I’ve just told him a few truths, that’s all.”

 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Brian thought.  He said to Craig, “What truths?”

 

“That he’s ruined his life, that his family wants nothing to do with him and his perversion, that you’re the root of this evil, that he’s going to die alone and sad when you’re finished with him.”  Craig looked exhausted from his tirade, but he had barely uttered the last word when Brian had him by the collar of his shirt.

 

“I ought to beat the shit out of you, but it’s clear you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!  You’re not worth going to jail for!”  Brian pushed him back into his chair, and turned to leave.

 

Craig’s words stopped him.  “I know what I’m talking about and so does Justin.  He believes me.  He’ll grow to detest you, if he doesn’t already.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“How long did you think he would stay infatuated with an arrogant son of a bitch like you?”

 

“Infatuated?”

 

“I think Justin has begun to realize how you’ve used him.  Stolen his youth and his innocence.”

 

“You bastard!”

 

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?  There’s nothing wrong with Justin.  He’s just looking at you through clearer eyes, and he’s turning away from your corrupting influence.  He’s turning back to his true family.”

 

Brian stared at Craig.  Had this man been able to convince his son that he didn’t love Brian, and that Brian was merely using him?

 

“You’re a sick son of a bitch!” Brian said, his hand on the doorknob.

 

“That makes two of us then,” Craig shot back, as Brian slammed the door and headed for the elevator.

 

Brian felt eyes staring at him, as he waited for the elevator.  Thankfully it arrived quickly and was empty.  Brian leaned against the wall, feeling like Craig had kicked him in the ribs all over again.  If this man who he hated intensely could upset him this much, what must he have done to the son who loved him?  Brian needed to talk to Justin right away.

 

He called Cynthia and told her he wasn’t coming in.  He tried Justin’s cell, but it was switched off.  He must be in class.  He headed for the IFA anyway, hoping he could find Justin somehow.  As he walked toward the administration building, he saw a group of people leaving what he assumed was a lecture hall.  There was a familiar blond head among them.

 

“Justin,” he called.

 

The blond head turned in his direction, and a weary and sad looking face registered shock.  Then, almost instantly, the sunshine facade went up, and Justin left the group, heading in his direction.

 

“What are you doing here?” Justin asked.  “Nothing’s happened, has it?”  He looked worried.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

“Can’t this wait till tonight?  I have classes.”

 

“No, it can’t.  I’ve just been to see your father.”

 

“What?  Why?  Is he all right?”  Brian saw the facade slip away, to be replaced by fear.

 

“I wanted some answers that you wouldn’t give me.”

“What did he tell you?”

 

“Not much.  Enough.  Let’s go,” Brian said, taking Justin by the arm.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“To the loft.  It’s freezing out here.”

 

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

 

“Not today.  Come on.”

 

Justin looked like he’d rather be eating rat poison than going with Brian, but he followed him to the Jeep.

 

Neither said anything more on the ride to the loft.  Justin glanced furtively at Brian, knowing the man was hurt and angry.  He wondered how much his father had told him.  Brian could feel Justin gauging his temper.  He looked at him a couple of times and noted the same worn out look on Justin’s face that he had seen on Craig’s.  What were they doing to each other?

 

Brian slammed the loft door.  Justin went over to the couch and sat down.  Brian took off his coat and joined him. 

 

“I know you’ve been seeing your father,” Brian said.  “Is that because of the list of people who hate us?”

 

“It started with that.”

 

“Started?”

 

“I went to see my dad to try and ... make things better.”