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The End Done Right
by Vamphile
Chapter Twelve
It was the same suite as the Barney’s trip.
“We’re back in the world of room service and big soft beds.”
“Yep, so no tortured starving artist crap, okay?”
Justin held up two fingers “Scouts honor.”
“Christ, were you really a scout?”
Justin blushed, “Only for a couple of years, then I got more interested in drawing than tying knots.”
“I don’t know, there’s a lot to be said for being able to tie a good strong knot.” Brian spoke the words slowly, suggestively, leaning in close as he finished the sentence
“Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to give it a try sometime then.” Justin replied, “Might be interesting to see what happens when you have no control at all.”
“Not gonna happen.” Brian replied casually
“We’ll see”
Brian just looked at him, and then laughed “So what time is your meeting at the gallery tomorrow?”
“Not ‘til two, and then the show is Friday, are you sure you want to go, you don’t have to you know.”
Brian pretended to ponder the question “hmmm, see my brilliant…Justin being honored for his incredible talent, or sit alone in a hotel room watching hetero porn, I’ll let you know.”
Justin gave him an annoyed look “There are clubs in New York, and I hear there are even a few worthwhile places to shop, I wasn’t suggesting you sit alone in the hotel.”
“Oh, I see, so I should go out clubbing while you get hit on by every art critic in New York?”
“Are you worried some pretentious asshole is going to sweep me off my feet and steal me away from you?” Justin smirked.
”No, because I’m going to be there to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Brian” it was half whine half laugh.
“Relax sunshine, I WANT to see your work, and as for pretentious art critics, I give you more credit than that.”
“So you’re really sure you want to go with me? I mean I’m gonna have to circulate and…”
Brian leaned in and shut him up with a kiss, “I’m going to be at your art show, the proud…Brian of the most talented artist the town has seen in years.” and then when you’ve schmoozed the last person, and drank the last glass of cheap champagne, and ate the last stale canapé I’m going to bring you back here to this very room, strip off every item of clothing, and fuck you until you can’t remember a single name or number that was pressed into your hand.”
“Do I have to go?”
“Yes, you are contractually obligated to attend.”
“Stupid contractual obligations”
“You know, you’re not contractually obligated to be anywhere tonight.”
“Really?”
”Really.”
So what do you want to do?
“I want to go out dancing.”
Brian looked at him as if he’d suggested they try going straight. “Really?”
“Really, it’s been so long since we’ve gone dancing, and I never really got a chance to hit the clubs, any of the times I’ve been in New York.”
“Well, you must have visited at least one or two when you were living here.”
Justin wrinkled his nose, “didn’t interest me then.”
“And it interests you now?”
Justin shrugged, “Didn’t see the point then, I knew I wasn’t gonna find you there.
Brian tried to absorb this, he had always assumed that Justin had merely glossed over guys he’d seen and done in New York, he was now beginning to realize that Justin may have actually spent the entire time painting, and sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa.
“So we go dancing.”
“Well it’s still early”
Brian looked at his watch; it was only 8, far to early for anything but trolls and losers. “You’re right…hmmm, how to kill the time.”
Justin smiled “I say we crack open the mini bar, and relax.”
“You know, you really are very smart…for your age”
Justin stuck his tongue out at Brian bouncing over to the mini bar, threw him a couple of tiny bottles, and grabbed a few for himself. They spent the next couple of hours developing a nice buzz, and fucking.
The club was, well, it was a club, loud, hot, with a beat that hit you in the solar plexus. Over priced drinks and hot guys cruising the both of them, separately and together. They hadn’t discussed it but both seemed content to dance with each other. Brian was somewhat gratified to see that even after all this time, (six months, Christ it felt like longer), the two of them still drew stares when they danced together.
It was more than Justin's Twinkie goodness, and more than his confident swagger, together, they were something else entirely, and it felt good to move together, to separate and dance with others only to return to one another a few songs later.
Justin pulled a popper out of his pocket and Brian looked surprised, although he shouldn’t have, hell, he just learned today the kid was a boy scout, and here he was, prepared.
The hazy buzz of amyl nitrate, combined with excessive amounts of scotch and the site of Justin, smiling, carefree, exuberant made him pull the boy closer, and then pull him off the dance floor altogether.
It was a practiced dance that they had done so long ago, as he would usher Justin into a back room but it had been a while and for some reason he was slightly more tentative, he needn’t have been, Justin followed him gladly, and as Brian pushed him against a wall, pushing Justin’s pants down off his hips, kissing his neck, it felt familiar and new and exciting at the same time, and Brian remembered why he loved this. He knew, with all the bullshit that had gone on in the past couple of months that he should be analyzing Justin's actions more, figuring out why a kid who’s been practically a hermit suddenly wants back into the club scene, but right now, at this moment, all he wants is to bury himself deep inside him.
He pins Justin's arms above his head, and hears him moan, opening the condom wrapper with his teeth he slides it on in a well-practiced motion. His cock is throbbing and he pushes slowly, just hitting the rim of Justin's ass. Justin moans louder, his forehead against the wall, his arms above his head, pushing back trying to take more of him inside, but Brian savors the moment, moving just the head in, and then pulling out, he hears Justin whimper and he leans in, kissing his neck where it meets his shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Tell me what you want,”
“I want you,”
“What do you want me to do?”
”Fuck me.”
“What?” Brian nipped a little harder and Justin moaned louder
“FUCK ME!”
A few heads turn but Brian just smiled and pushed deeper into him, he pressed his body against Justin's, pinning him to the wall for a moment allowing Justin a moment to adjust to the feeling of being filled by him.
Then he pulls back and begins in earnest, pounding into him, hard and steady, Justin pushing back meeting his every thrust, Brian keeps his arms pinned and Justin struggles just a little because he wants to come, wants to touch himself. “I’ll do it for you” Brian says, and with his free hand grasps Justin's weeping cock. He presses his thumb against the slit, as he thrusts deeply into him and Justin moans his name “Brian” and then he matches his thrusts to his hand motions as he runs his hand from the base of Justin's cock to the tip and back again, running a finger around the head as if it were his tongue.
Brian loves this part, the part where he’s in control, the part where Justin doesn’t want anything but more of Brian's touch, and finally, he speeds up his motions and they come together, both throwing their heads back as if in a choreographed dance and as soon as Justin shoots all over the wall Brian releases his hands, and pulls out of him.
Justin turns around quickly, kissing Brian so hard he almost falls backwards. His legs are wrapped around Brian's waist and the taller man takes a step forward, leaning Justin against the wall for support as he continues to kiss him. Eventually Justin thighs release their grip on Brian's waist and he lowers his feet to the ground. He throws his head back and laughs. I thought my knees were gonna buckle. Brian just looks at him. Justin tilts his head and looks back “What?”
“You are fucking hot”
Justin smiles, “Dance with me.” they straighten their clothes, and spend the next hour entwined together, hypnotized by the strobe lights, the thumpa thumpa, each others eyes, and the musky scent of one another, and at four in the morning they stagger back to the hotel to fall asleep, spent and exhausted.
Justin wakes up first, but not with an anxiety attack, with a smile. He had originally suggested the club to show Brian he wasn’t a hermit, and to give Brian a chance to release, to just forget everything. He knew there were too many memories in the small gay community of Pittsburgh for Brian to really feel that same freedom that would come with the anonymity of a club elsewhere. What he hadn’t counted on is how much he had needed it, or at least wanted it. He had been scared to death but Brian would be there, nothing to bad could happen if Brian was there, and then they were just… back, like they were so long ago, happy, carefree, dancing, watching men gaze enviously at them, and the back room, Justin had forgotten how good raw sex based on drugs and need could be, and suddenly realized why Brian thought people who gave this up forever were idiots.
No, he didn’t want to dance every night, but every once in a while, it was nice to just lose yourself in the crowd, in the movement, in the beat, in the heady scent of sex and beer and catty gossip. Last night had been good for him and now if he could just get through today, this meeting, and tomorrow, the show, he would, he swore to himself, take better care of himself, stop being so pathetically afraid all the time, and let go of his death grip on Brian.
Brian opened his eyes slowly, his head feeling as if it were weighted down. He moaned a little and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the daylight. “Christ” he thought to himself, “Am I actually getting too old for this?” Then he smelled coffee, and heard Justin, “c’mon old man, you’ll feel better if you drink this.” He sat up to be rewarded with a mug of coffee just the way he liked it, black with about a pound of sugar.
“Last night was fun.”
Brian nodded silently, not actually ready for conversation
Justin seeing Brian's need for a little morning silence kissed him on the forehead and grabbed his sketchbook.
Brian glanced over at the blonde, who looked no worse for wear, and realized that there was to be another entry in the “moments I’d rather not have captured” section of Justin's sketches. “Why don’t you wait until I’m showered and dressed before you immortalize me?”
”Because that’s boring, I like it when your face is all smooshed from the pillow, and your hair is kinda everywhere and you can barely keep your eyes open or your head up.”
“You’re a freak.”
“Well, I was taught by the best.”
Brian snorted, the closest he was going to get to a laugh until the caffeine did it’s magic. He held up the mug of coffee “Thanks.”
Brian glanced at his watch, it was noon, they still had a little time before Justin was due at the gallery. “Come here”
Justin put down his pencil and pad and walked over to him, wearing only the hotel robe, looking for all the world as he had the day Brian had found him the first time he’d run away.
Justin, sensing what Brian wanted, dropped the robe to the floor. Brian put the coffee mug down, and pulled Justin by the arm until his naked body fell on top of his.
They were running a little late when they finally got to the gallery.
Brian hung back, watching Justin, who seemed intent on convincing Ranston of something.
“It’s upside down.”
“Not a problem we can fix that. I’d like for you to be here on Saturday as well, if that’s possible.”
“I’m sorry, I have to be in Toronto on Saturday, but I’ll be back in a month or two for another appearance.”
“There are going to be some very important people here tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be here as promised, circulating and schmoozing.” Justin threw the gallery owner a sunshine smile, “So can I see what other pieces are going to be in the show?”
Ranston put his arm across Justin's shoulder and led him around to the back of the gallery where some of the other artists’ work that would be featured was being stored.
Brian watched Justin carefully, he could see a tight pulled look in his face, a sure sign of nerves, and then he watched him give that Ranston guy that smile, and he pretended that it didn’t bother him. It was harder to pretend that he was okay watching the gallery manager so casually drape himself around Justin and lead him away. Brian took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was part of the deal.
Justin was so absorbed in the other artists’ work that he lost track of time, it was almost two hours later when he emerged from the back room. His eyes searched the gallery franticly and he began to panic when he couldn’t find Brian.
He glanced at his watch and realized just how long he’d been back there “oh god, he left, he just left.” Justin closed his eyes, and tried to breathe but the air wouldn’t come, his throat was closed, his mouth dry, his heart was racing; he was going to pass out. He was standing in the middle of the gallery, white walls spinning around him when Brian walked in.
Brian’s eyes found Justin immediately, “about fucking time.” He thought to himself, and then he really focused on him, “shit” his long legs covered the space between them in moments, and Justin was buried into his chest breathing deeply before he was even sure what was happening.
When Justin saw Brian he thought he was imagining it, he was dizzy, and felt like he was about to fall, but he couldn’t move, he was cemented to the floor. But then he felt Brian's arms around him, and Justin breathed, inhaling the scent of Brian burying his head into Brian's chest.
Brian said nothing; he just kept his arm around Justin as the left the studio and walked a couple of blocks. Once Justin seemed to have calmed a bit he held him at arms length. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“You were gone.”
“I went out for a cigarette, you were back there for two hours. Justin what happened, did he…”
“He?”
“The gallery guy”
“Did he what?”
Brian was still a bit shaken, Justin had looked like he was about to collapse, unheeded tears had been streaming down his face, and he seemed so desperate when they finally came together, he couldn’t help but wonder if that fucker Ranston had hurt Justin. His stomach knotted at the thought, his jaw clenched.
“Did he hurt you?”
Justin looked at him confused “Ranston?, why would he hurt me?”
Brian rolled his eyes, “what the fuck Justin, I go out for a cigarette, I walk back in and you’re crying, looking like all the blood has drained from your body, tell me what happened” this last part he said more quietly, realizing that Justin was still upset.
Justin inhaled a ragged breath. Nothing happened, I was looking at the other stuff that was gonna be in the show, and I lost track of time, I guess I just freaked when I realized how long I’d been back there…”
“And that I wasn’t there. Did you think I left?”
Justin looked down, embarrassed, realizing this was probably the stupidest reason to be upset ever.
“Look at me Justin”
“Justin raised his eyes slowly”
“Did you think I left, just walked out without a word?”
”Yes”
“Do you really think I’d do that?”
“No”
“Then what’s with the drama queen tears?”
“Just practicing I guess, in case something bad actually happens.” Justin tried to smile, to turn this back into something light and funny.
Brian pulled Justin towards him, draping his arm protectively around his shoulder, “Tell you what, why don’t we go buy something insanely expensive and almost as pretty as me, and then go back to the hotel for some really hot…room service.”
Justin laughed and said, “you think there are things almost as pretty as you?”
Brian leaned in and kissed him “there’s you”
And Justin swallowed hard and forced himself to simply repress any more feelings of doubt he had at the moment. He was with Brian, the show would be fine and then they could get out of New York.
“We could go to FAO Schwartz and spend a ridiculous amount of money on your son and his sister, maybe even buy something for Sam.”
Brian smiled, “Excellent plan, lets go spoil the kids rotten.”
The room was now cluttered with toys. Brian had gone overboard at the toy store, but he couldn’t resist. Justin had been almost happy, except for the tightness around his smile, he was genuinely enjoying picking things out for Gus and JR.
“We’re going to have to pay extra to get all this stuff on the plane you know”
Brian just looked at him I just spent a couple grand on stuffed monkeys and dancing giraffes, you think I care what it’s gonna cost to get them there?”
Justin shrugged, “Mel’s gonna have a fit.”
“Yeah well that’s not new. You ready?”
”Ready as I’ll ever be. Have I mentioned that I hate these things?”
”About fifteen times in the last half hour”
“Well, it bears repeating”
“Just remember, schmooze, champagne, canapés, home, fucking you senseless.”
Justin reached up and snaked his arms around Brian, “don’t wander too far tonight?”
”It’ll be like I’m your personal body guard” Brian emphasized his statement by running his hands up and down Justin's body, watching his eyes dilate with desire. He bent his head to give him a kiss on the forehead and then smacked his ass, “Now lets go.”
The show was uneventful, Brian managed to hover even from the other side of the room, wandering casually around and never quite taking his eyes of Justin. He watched him smile, shake hands, shove cards into his pocket as they were handed to him by art critics, art aficionados, and of course, the more than occasional guy who was just cruising the hot new artist. Justin paid little attention to any of the cards, just jammed them into his pockets and moved on. He constantly had a glass of champagne in his hand, and Brian noticed he didn’t eat, but fuck, who would eat these disgusting hors devours. Finally hours later the last guest was gone, and Ranston shook Justin's hand, kissed his cheek, and Brian came up behind Justin his arms draped over his shoulders. Justin intertwined his fingers with Brian's and turned his head to kiss the only person who had kept him from falling apart this evening, even though they hadn’t spoken a word to each other in hours.
“Ready to get out of here?”
“Mmmmmm, you know I drank the champagne and scmoozed the critics, now you have to keep up your end of the bargain.” Justin emphasized the point by pushing himself back against Brian's body, feeling Brian's almost instantaneous arousal.
“Damn contractual obligations.” Brian grumbled.
And they headed back to the hotel room.
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