Experiment - Chapter Five: Part Two

[wren_kt7oz]

Like I said, a long one. Here is part two. Adults only warning still applies.


For previous chapters: Experiment Index





Experiment 5: Results and Conclusions - Part Two


*****

Brian

When it happened I felt like they say you do when you’ve been shot. Like you’re so shocked that you don’t even feel the pain.

Then I just felt ball bustingly angry.

He was attacking Justin. Again. But this time in front of everybody. Shit! what is his fucking problem? He can’t still be thinking that he and I are ever going to be anything other than what we are, but he just can’t bear to see me with Justin.

Of course Emmett hadn’t helped. And I guess I made if fucking worse. I hadn’t meant to rub Mikey’s nose in it, I was just happy. And I should be able to kiss my fucking boyfriend for fuck's sake without my best friend getting pissed off about it.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he took it out on me, but to attack Justin, that’s just fucked.

I tried to ignore the first round, but when he called Justin a slut - Justin! Jesus fucking Christ. He’s sitting at the table with me and calling Justin a slut! How fucked is that?

Shit!

I was going to ream him out in a way that neither of us would ever have been able to get past, when Ben stepped in.

I don’t know whether to be glad or sorry about that.

Poor bastard. I really hoped it would work for Mikey with Ben. He’s a great guy (well, when he’s not steroid Mary, anyway), and I trusted him with Mikey. Despite the HIV thing, despite the Dr Dave fiasco, despite our little fling at the White Party. I trusted him.

It didn’t fucking occur to me that Ben was the one who was going to get screwed.

The weird thing is that after all the drama had died down, the night sort of turned out okay.

I mean, I can think of things I’d rather do than sit around and fucking talk all night. But it was okay.

And of course, he loved it.

He was sitting there with the light shining on that fucking mop of hair and his hand on my thigh, or my arm, or somehow tucked into mine, and chattering away like there was fuck all else that he’d rather be doing.

If I don’t watch out, between him and Deb they’re going to turn this into some sort of regular thing, and I don’t know how much family fun I can take.

Still, it was good that it made him forget about what Mikey said. And I have to admit that it does make it easier for me, when he does the talking for both of us. It means I don’t have to say anything, and can just zone out for a while without anyone really noticing.

I guess I should be pissed off that it seems like everyone accepts that he is doing exactly that, speaking for both of us, but shit! if it makes them happy and gets them to leave me in peace … Who am I kidding? We’re moving into coupledom. He is speaking for both of us. Most of the time, anyway. I’m turning into a fucking dyke and the fucking scariest thing about that is that … it feels so damned good.

This is what Lindz has been trying to tell me for years. Well, ever since Justin came along, anyway. I wonder if we could ever have made it before … if I hadn’t been so stubborn and so determined to fight it, I wonder if we could have got to this place, without having to go through all the shit we went through.

I guess not. He needed to grow up, and I needed … to grow the balls to be able to not run screaming from the feeling of letting someone so close to me.

Closer than Michael.

That’s what has set Mikey off, of course.. He knows that Justin is the one I’ve been turning to, the one I share my life with. That it’s never going to be him that I run to first anymore - hell, until Justin, he was the only one I’d ever run to when things went wrong, the only one I ever let see behind the fucking Brian Kinney mask.

And now it’s not him, it’s Justin.

Except that Justin is closer than Mikey ever was. Because we fuck. Because Justin’s smarter than Michael and understands some things that Mikey would never get.

But mainly because part of Mikey wanted me to be his hero. Even when he’d seen me beaten like a fucking dog, and crying my heart out over what my asshole father had done to me, part of him still needed me to be his hero.

“You’re Brian Kinney for fuck’s sake!”

I think maybe that’s when I understood that my friendship with Mikey was in trouble. That part of it was based on a lie. It was based on Mikey wanting to believe, needing to believe, in the fucking myth.

Justin never bought the myth for a minute.

“I’m on to you.”

That was Justin. Still is.

And I am so fucking grateful for that. Because I don’t have to be anything for Justin except me. Just myself.

Sometimes when I’m with him, I feel like a hamster that’s finally been allowed to get off the fucking wheel. For a while everything keeps spinning, but then it slows right down and I can stop. I can rest. I can just be with him and rest.

I never knew how good that would feel.

Just like I never knew how good it would feel to have people like Mel and Emmett and even Vic come up and offer to help me out with the money.

Shit! if you’d asked me, I would have said that it would make my stomach heave to have them offering me help, like I was some sort of fucking charity case.

But that wasn’t how it felt at all. It felt like … like maybe that’s how family feels. I wouldn’t know. But maybe that’s what it’s like. Like there are people who will watch out for you and try to be there if you need them.

See, once I never would have admitted to needing anyone or anything. And I don’t really need them now. Not while I have Justin. So somehow, that makes it all right to need them. That’s fucked, but it seems like that’s the way it is.

Of course, I couldn’t take their money. The girls need it for Gus, and for the new baby. And Vic and Emmett are just starting this business, they’ll need every fucking cent they can scrape together to make it work. Especially if they want to take on staff and have to pay fucking insurance and all that shit.

But they offered.

I’ve never had anyone do that for me before. Maybe it seemed like I never needed any help. Or just that it seemed like I’d fucking kill them if they offered it. Which I might have done.

But tonight they offered.

Shit! maybe it is a case of pathetic dickless fag strikes again and everyone sees what a sorry fucking mess he is and they all take the chance to rub it in by offering him help.

But that isn’t how it felt.

Fuck! I would love to have a photo of Mel’s face when I kissed her. Maybe Justin can draw it for me. Or the looks on the others’ faces. I’m guessing they thought the fucking apocalypse must be on its way.

At least we’ve got the fucking car to get us home tonight. Whatever happens with the job, I somehow have to scrape together enough to get some kind of car, even if I can’t keep this one. I’m not sure that I want to anyway. It’s not like I can use it to drive Gus around in, and anyway, you can’t fuck in it. Well, you can, but not without risking impalement on the gears and the handbrake and various other things that manage to get into unbelievable places. The jeep was a lot more practical.

And now we’re nearly back at the loft, and I have to break the news to Justin that I need to go and look for Mikey.

If he’s at home, fine. I’ll call first and see and if he’s there that will be the end of it. But if he’s not, then he’s in trouble and I can’t just leave him out there somewhere.

He’d go looking for me.

*****

Justin

I can feel him gearing himself up for something, and I’m bracing myself not to react, because I think he’s going to say he wants to go out, to the Baths or Babylon, or wherever he can pick up a trick.

Of course I should have guessed what it would be. I am so dumb.

So what if Mikey called me a slut and accused me of lying about him to Brian. Poor little Mikey might be out there all alone, so of course big brave Brian has to go and rescue him.

But I bite my tongue. Again. And tell him that I understand. Which is true. And that I don’t mind. Which isn’t. Exactly.

But I mind less about him going than I would about him not going and fretting, and blaming himself, especially if anything did happen to the little prick. And I wouldn’t put it past Mikey to make sure that he had some sort of accident just to pull Brian’s strings.

So when we get inside I kiss him, and tell him I’m going to have a shower, so that he has the privacy to call Ben and Michael’s place.

When I come out of the shower, he’s sitting on the bed.

I’m surprised that he’s still there, and that must have been obvious, because his face twists up a bit as he says, “He’s at home. They’re talking.”

“Oh,” I say. Then I have to ask, “why didn’t you join me in the shower then?”

He looks at me and his face is tired and sad and sort of scared.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

He says it very quietly, and it nearly breaks my heart. I go to him and pull him into my arms and hug him tightly against my chest.

“Brian, I might not like Michael very much, but I know how much he means to you. I would never try to come between you. And even if I minded you wanting to go out and look for him, and look after him, I love you for wanting to do it.”

It’s not the sort of thing that I would ever normally say to Brian, but hey! it’s been anything but a normal day. And I mean every word of it.

He wraps his arms around me really tightly, and we just hold each other for a while. Then he says, “Do you mind if I don’t have a shower tonight?”

I realize then just how tired he is, and I push him down on the bed and start taking off his clothes. He sighs and just moves enough to help me get his jacket and shirt off, and then his pants. When he’s naked, I tug the covers out from under him, and sort of push him further onto the bed. Then I climb in beside him and pull the covers up over us both.

A bit tentatively I nestle up against him, and his arm comes round me and we both snuggle a bit closer and then he’s asleep. Just like that. I lie there for a while just enjoying how it feels to be there with him that way. But it’s been kind of tough day for me too, and it’s not long before I follow him to sleep.

When I wake up in the morning, it’s to find myself face down, ass up, with Brian rimming me. Fuck! what a way to wake up!

He seems determined to make up for falling asleep last night because we fuck twice before we even get to the shower, and then he insists on getting out some beads that he wants to put in me while we we’re in there. I tell him that it’s his turn, and to my surprise he lets me win the argument.

So he lies on the bed with a pillow under his hips while I slowly feed them into him. He’s on his back, so I can see his face, and he gets very flushed and starts stoking his cock. I knock his hand away. “Not yet,” I tell him.

The last two are kind of big, so it takes a little time to work them in, and once they are in he starts sucking his breath in hard. I rub his belly, and then take the opportunity to lick and suck at his thighs. He lets them fall further apart to give me better access and I take full advantage of it, finally giving him a hickey right up at the top of his thigh. He smacks my head, but he doesn’t say anything, so I know he doesn’t mind. I’m tempted to start a blow job, but if I do, we’ll never get into the shower, so I stand and help him up.

He walks into the bathroom very cautiously. There are rules when we play with these sorts of toys, and he knows that if he lets any of the beads slip out of his ass before I start pulling them out, that he’ll have to pay a forfeit - of my choice.

When I was first with him, and just learning about all this stuff, I had a hard time keeping them all in and he thought up some really diabolical forfeits. Now he knows that I haven’t forgotten and that I’ll be only too glad to pay him back in kind if he gives me the opportunity.

I make him keep them in while we wash and shampoo our hair. He’s breathing fast and his cock is rock hard, jutting up as if it’s trying to stretch up to his chin. I finally take pity on him and kneel in front of him. He gives a sort of purr of satisfaction and leans back against the tiles, bending his knees a little and spreading his legs wide.

I stroke his sac and play with his balls for a moment, then run my fingers across the soft skin behind. He grunts, and I slip a finger through the plastic ring on the end of the string.

He braces himself, but I’m not quite ready yet. I wrap my other hand around his cock and lick the tip like a lollipop.

His breath hisses out through his teeth, and that’s when I pull the first ball out.

He gasps, and I feel his cock throb in my hand. My own is really hard by now as well, but I force myself to focus on him.

Again I lick the tip, this time pushing my tongue into his slit. I tongue fuck it two or three times then give a little jerk of my wrist and pull out the next ball.

He gives a sort of growl, and before my eyes a tremor runs across his belly. I feel his cock pulse again, and I wonder how much control he has. The fact that he’s come twice already this morning should make this fairly easy for him, but judging by his reactions, that’s not necessarily the case. There are seven altogether on this string and I wonder if he will last.

Of course, he’ll have to pay a forfeit if he doesn’t.

With my cock leaking pre cum, it’s not hard to figure what that might be.

I begin to fist his cock firmly and just as I pull the next ball out, I tug my hand right up over the head and then push it down again.

He makes a sound like he’s cutting off a scream, and I know he’s really close.

I try something different now, giving tiny teasing tugs to the string, while I suck gently at the tip of his cock, then as I deep throat him, I pull hard on the string, tugging not one but two balls out.

That does it. He comes hard. It jets down my throat, and despite my best efforts, some spills from my mouth.

He pulls me up and licks himself from my lips, then turns off the shower. Carefully, he tugs out the last two balls and then he bends forwards over the sink.

“Hurry.”

His voice is still husky with arousal and I realize that even though he’s come he’s still wanting more.

I pull on a condom as fast as I can and reach for the lube. “Justin, just … fuck me.”

Yes, sir! I push into him. The beads have opened him up nicely, but he’s still tight. Oh God! When he’s fucking me that’s all I ever want. But once I get inside him I remember how good that feels, and for that moment, that’s all I want.

I fuck him hard and fast because I am really close, and sure enough I come quickly.

Normally, I’d be embarrassed about that, but I guess this time it’s a good thing.

It’s as I’m pulling out that I remember the other thing, the thing that makes the difference. I love fucking him, don’t get me wrong. But somehow, afterwards, it’s never as good as when he’s fucked me. It never feels as warm and safe and wonderful as I feel after he’s had me and I’m lying there in his arms.

But it still feels pretty good.

He stands up while I get rid of the condom, and props himself on the edge of the sink which makes us about the same height. So when I come to him and take him in my arms, he’s just at the right height to nuzzle into my neck and I can hold him and stroke his hair and generally feel … I don’t know. Like I’m taking care of him, for once, and maybe making him feel warm and safe and wonderful in my arms. I hope so.

We pull on some sweats and go into the kitchen. We make coffee, and he agrees to pancakes for breakfast because it means that we don’t have to go out to get something.

I’m sort of wondering how long it will be before he calls Mikey, when there’s a knock at the door. Before we can answer it, it slides open.

It’s Michael, of course.

*****

Brian

The problem of course, is that I’ve taught him too fucking well. Little shit!

Still, it was a good fuck and afterwards, when he held me, that was more than good. I hope he knows how it feels when he does that. How good he makes me feel. Like I’m safe; for the first time in my life, I’m somewhere safe.

Of course, I wasn’t left to bask too long in the afterglow, because Mikey turned up.

Once I knew he was safe last night, I could just go back to being fucking mad at him. Even madder, in fact, because I had to risk screwing things up with Justin to go out and find him. Well, okay, I didn’t actually have to go out, but that’s not the fucking point.

He could have phoned. Once he’d got home he could at least have called to let his mother know he was home and with Ben and they were trying to work things out.

He could have fucking called me.

But no. He turns up here this morning, and comes in without even waiting for me to open the door. When he must have known Justin would be here. Shit! If he’d come fifteen minutes earlier he would have walked in on Justin fucking me. I bet he would have loved that. Stupid fuck! Why can’t he stop and think for once instead of just barging ahead?

He must have seen that I was still angry, because he straight away turned on those puppy dog eyes that nearly always work on me.

“Brian, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“It’s not me you should fucking apologize to!”

“No, I know. Justin … I really am sorry. I don’t know what made me say anything like that.”

Justin simply stood looking at him. At first, I didn’t think he was going to say anything. Then he said really quietly, “Yes, you do. We all know.”

Then he moved past the breakfast bar and towards Mikey and said even more quietly, “And for myself, I don’t give a flying fuck what you say about me. You just don’t matter enough.”

Then he stepped right up to him and finished, “But if you ever put Brian through anything like that again, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

Then he stepped back and smiled at me. “Brian, I’m going to get dressed and go over to Daph’s. I need some clean clothes, and I need to tell her what’s going on with PIFA and stuff.”

I’m reminded yet again how fucking strong he is.

I nod at him, and then say, “Don’t bother about getting dressed. Take the car.”

Mikey was staring - at him, at me, at us, as I handed Justin the car keys and kissed him goodbye.

“Later,” he mouthed at me.

“Later,” I said, pulling him back for another quick kiss, so fucking proud of him and glad to have him on my side, at my side, that I wanted to fucking take out an ad.

Then he left, and I poured myself another coffee, and one for Mikey, and set to work to find out if there was any way that I could salvage a fourteen year friendship.

Because I had to try. But I also had to let Mikey know that if he ever put me in that position again then it would just be over. I had to make it clear to him that it wasn’t a matter of me choosing between him and Justin. There wasn’t a choice in that. Justin was a given.

So it was a matter of him choosing to accept that - or not.

And if he couldn’t, then there wasn’t any way that we could stay friends. I don’t think I could go on feeling friendship towards someone who felt free to treat Justin the way he did last night. It would be like trying to be friends with that fucking Hobbs.

*****

Justin

Brian called my cell about an hour later.

I had been filling Daph in on all the goss. She was furious with Michael, and really pissed off that she hadn’t been there to take him on herself.

I had a picture of her going at him and had to laugh. It’s good to know that Daph is there for me. I’m lucky. She’s a much better friend to me than Michael is to Brian.

Apart from that momentary weirdness after our misguided fuck, she’s never begrudged me being with Brian. Although she hated Ethan from day one.

I should have listened to her.

Anyway, apparently Michael has left and gone home to Ben. It seems they’re going to try to work things out. I hope they can, but I don’t know.

Brian asked me what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I feel kind of guilty, because I have his car, but I said that I’d like to check in with my mom.

He said that was okay with him, that he wanted to work on the email to send Vance. We’d talked very briefly about that this morning before Michael arrived. He asked if I could get home around mid afternoon so that we could go over it together. Like I was going to say no to that!

Mom was pleased to see me, but a bit shocked and nervous about me driving that car. I guess that’s a mom thing.

We talked for a while. She’s really pleased that it looks like I’m going to be able to get back in to PIFA. She even said that she was putting money aside to make sure that I would have next semester’s fees. I tried to tell her not to worry about that, but she insisted that it was the least she could do.

“I feel that I’ve let you down so badly, Justin, by not making sure all that was taken care of in the divorce settlement. It just never occurred to me that your father would really refuse to pay.”

“I know, Mom, I understand. I can’t really believe it myself.”

We looked at each other and shared a wry sort of smile.

“I wish I had the money on hand right now. I’m sure Brian could do with it. I do have a few thousand, if that would help. If he’d accept it from me.”

I hugged her and thanked her, but told her I thought we were going to be alright.

“Well, if you need it, Justin, it’s there. Don’t let Brian’s pride make things more difficult for you both than they have to be. It might not be much, but every little will help with the interest payments.”

I hugged her again and told her that I needed to get home, because Brian and I had to work out exactly what was going to go into his letter of demands (because that’s really what it is) to Vance.

She looked at me a bit funny when I said that, as if she didn’t quite believe what I was telling her about how things are now between Brian and I. But she must have seen in my face that it was the truth because suddenly she stopped looking worried and really smiled.

“Justin … I’m glad. Glad that you’re back with Brian. Glad that you’re finding the way to be happy together.”

I almost felt my allergies kick in then, because I don’t think I’d ever expected to hear her say that.

Then I left and went home to Brian.

*****

Brian

We got through the weekend somehow.

We fucked a lot.

We ate too fucking much. Made a few phone calls.

We slept a bit.

Oh, and we collected Friday’s mail from the box.

Then Monday came and it was like old times - the times just a few weeks ago that fucking seem like they happened to someone else.

The alarm went off. We had a quick fuck in the shower.

I got dressed in my dazzling best, and he made me breakfast.

Then he pulled on some halfway decent clothes and drove me downtown.

Pathetic, I know, but however this was going to go down, I wanted him close by afterwards. So we arranged that he’d wait in the coffee shop across the street.

But when the time came, I couldn’t wait even the five minutes it would have taken to get down there. I was calling him from my cell almost before I left Vance’s office.

As I walked out of the elevator, he ran into my arms and without any regard to where we were I picked him up and spun him around. Then I dipped him and kissed him, right there in the lobby. Let all the fucking breeders take notes on what a kiss should be like.

When we finally came up for air, he was laughing at me, the little shit. “I take it it went well then?’ he giggled.

I took his hand and pulled him out the door.

“I got it all,” I announced proudly.

He stopped dead, then, so I had to stop with him. He was staring at me. He looked … he looked so proud of me, that it almost brought me fucking undone.

“Oh, Brian.”

I thought for a moment that he was going to start crying.

“Now don’t go all lesbionic on me. You’re a fag, for god’s sake. Get a grip,” I scolded.

But all the time my hands were clutching his, and I was smiling down into those blue eyes, and if he was proud of me, I was even more proud of him. Because he was the one who really got us here. He was the one who stood by me and helped me see who I was, and then, when the chance came, made me see who I could be, what I could achieve, if I had the guts to reach for it. And I had them alright … I borrowed them from him.

We decide, well, he decides, that the news is too good to keep to ourselves so we head for the diner. While he drives, I call Mel and she promises to come and bring Gus and to see if Lindz can join us. Then I call Vic, and Emmett’s there so they promise to meet us. Of course they fucking try to pry out of me what all the news is first, but this is big, and I don’t want to spoil it. Besides wanting to see their faces when I tell them, I need to share the moment with Justin.

Then I call Mikey. His cell’s turned off and the kid at the store says he and Ben have gone away for a few days.

I’m actually relieved because I wasn’t sure if I wanted him there. I don’t, if it’s going to upset Justin. After the talk we had on Saturday morning, I’m hoping that Mikey can find a way to be around Justin without all the snide remarks, and little spiteful fucking things that he does, but it’s probably just as well not to have to put it to the test so soon.

Eventually the rest of the crew arrive. It takes a while, and although Deb is a bit pissed off that we won’t tell her what’s going on till the others get there, she also has news of her own.

It seems Ben has told Mikey that he thinks the only way they can have any hope of making things work is to go away together. Not for a few days, but to live.

Seems Ben has been offered a position at Boston University and he’s been trying to work out whether he should take it. Now he thinks it’s a good opportunity for them both.

The worst thing is, I think he’s right. I think it probably is their only chance.

But I also think Michael and I need to be apart for a while. We need to have the chance to grow up and that’s hard when all our common experience pulls us back to when we were fourteen years old, and we were best friends.

That’s a lot of old history to overcome, and a lot of old habits to break.

It might be that our friendship never is the same. That might even be a good thing. It might develop into something better, a real friendship, not just a push-pull relationship of mutual need. What do they call it? Fucking co-dependence. That’s it.

Anyway, they flew out this morning to Boston, to check it out. So I hope that it works out for them. I know Deb’s upset, but she’ll Hunter’s going to be staying with her, and soon she’ll have another baby to mother. Justin and I will keep an eye on her and Vic. They’ll be okay.

All of that goes out the window when the others arrive. Even Lindz manages to make it.

Mel is grinning like a cat, and asks as soon as she walks in, “So how did it go? Did the famous Brian Kinney sales skills come out on top?”

She had some idea what I was going to go for from our talk on Friday and yesterday’s phone call. She sees the look on my face and says, “Fuck! He bought it.”

I just grin at her and wait till everyone is quiet. Then I put my arm around Justin and say, “You are looking at the full partner and co-owner of Vanguard Kinney Enterprises.”

“What!”

“Fuck!”

“You’re shitting me!”

They’re all stunned and I don’t blame them. I’d never admit it, except to Justin, but I’m still a little stunned myself.

It’s a while before they all shut up enough to hear the rest, and even longer before they take it in.

The partnership thing was a given. From the time that Justin and I sat down and drew up the list, that was always going to be my key demand.

The co-owner thing came about for two reasons.

The first was that when Mel looked closely at the contract, it seemed like my investment advisor was right on the fucking ball. Vance didn’t, under the terms of the agreement, have cause to sack me. Or at least, it was a highly debatable legal point. Which meant that I was in a good position to sue for a fucking truckload of money.

Given the debatable nature of the case, his lawyers would almost certainly advise him to settle, which might not bring in as much as I’d get in court, but it would still make a sizeable dent in his profit margin. That gave me a lot of leverage.

Then there was the letter which we found yesterday morning, when we finally stirred down to get something to eat and remembered that we hadn’t checked the box on Friday.

It seems that in the wake of Stockwell’s resignation, some of Deekins’ advisers were a bit worried that word would get out that the Concerned Citizens for the Truth had approached that gutless bastard Deekins with the little tape about Stockwell, and he’d refused to do anything with it. This being the case, these fucking bozos figured that the best way out of that bind was to offer, a bit fucking belatedly, to help pay for the ad.

The letter contained a check for $95,000, backdated of course to the day before the election.

Payable to B. Kinney, as representative of The Concerned Citizens for the Fucking Truth.

Part of me would have liked nothing better than to tear it up and send it straight back to them with a note saying “Eat shit!”

But fuck that! What does it matter now? I don’t care who gets fucking credit for the ad. I never did. The only person whose opinion matters to me knows the whole story, better than anyone. And he was sitting right beside me when I opened the envelope, just like he’s sitting beside me now.

He was the one who saw straight away the possibilities this opened up, of course.

It meant a few phone calls - to Mel, to the investment guy, to a banker he knows. But we managed to pull the whole lot together.

The letter containing the advice of my lawyer that I had a good case to sue for unfair dismissal. The offer of a business loan from the bank. The offer from the Senator, which would make her my first client. The letter from Deekins’ advisers. All of it. Everything that would make it clear as fucking crystal to Vance that I had serious other options.

Of course I’d sent the email to Vance off on Saturday, so first thing I had to do this morning was apologize for misleading him.

Then I spelled out the situation he was in. He was at risk of losing at least two of his major accounts. He was about to find a serious rival with a history with all his clients, and major political pull into the bargain (Jesus how did that happen?) on his doorstep. And he faced a possibly ruinous law suit.

Then I just had to sell him on the solution.

We finally agreed that my back pay for the time since I was dismissed plus $50,000 of Deekins’ money would pay for half the agency (unofficially factoring in the amount I would be likely to get in a law suit).

The rest of Deekins’ money, with the sale proceeds, including the car, will be enough to pay off my debts. I’ll be starting out with a clean slate (well, with a bit of money still in the investments, as a sort of fucking cushion if the bubble bursts and we crash again). And Justin. Oh, and a company car as part of my partnership agreement. There won’t be any need to take up the business loan offer.

What Vance gets out of the deal is that with me on board he, or rather we, can keep clients like Brown Athletics. We also get the Senator (and all those contacts with her pals in high places, maybe even Deekins’ pals, which Vance will love). And most importantly, he hasn’t got me starting up in competition with him right next door, which I’m now in a financial position to do, if I wanted.

What I get, apart from the partnership and half the firm, is a stable client base, an established art department, etc., who know me and know how I work, and vindication. I get my fucking reputation back.

Oh, and a certain intern gets his job back, if he wants it. Vance wanted me to tell him, but I insisted that he call Justin himself, and discuss it with him. In some ways it doesn’t have anything to do with me. It’s up to Justin to decide. I know the art department will be fucking glad to get him back. He’s the most talented person they have.

To Vance’s credit, he’d called Justin on his cell before we’d even reached the diner. He made the offer, and Justin told him he’d need to think about it. I almost laughed out loud when I heard him say that. Vance has got no idea. He thinks I’m a tough sonofabitch to deal with. I’m a pussycat compared to this delicate vanilla-looking little shit that’s sitting beside me.

Apparently Vance even offered him a full time job if he decides not to go back to PIFA. I did laugh when Justin told me that. Not that Vance had offered the job, but the way he put it. Maybe he is getting the message about Justin, after all.

The funny thing is after all that’s happened, I think that Gardner and I are going to be able to work together.

In a fucking weird way, I think I came out of this respecting him more than I did before.

I won’t forget that he tried hard to find a reason not to fire me.

Or that he came straight to me as soon as the Stockwell thing blew up. He could have got on the phone to everyone he knows in the business and badmouthed me. That might not have helped him keep Brown and the like, but it would have made it hard for me to get into a position where I could go after them either.

He didn’t do that. He had the balls to come to me. So maybe this will work.

The contract still needs to be finalized, but with Mel riding shotgun on it, I’m not worried about that. There will be all sorts of things in the agreement about the circumstances under which the partnership can be dissolved, and how, should that occur, we each keep the clients that we’ve signed, etc. But I’m hoping that is stuff I don’t have to worry about. Not for a long time, anyway. I’ve had about as much as I want of this high powered fucking wheeling and dealing for a while.

Right now, all I want to do is lay claim to the prize that really matters and take him home and fuck him senseless. And then ask him to come home to me.

And if he’s not ready to do that yet, I’ll ask again tomorrow.

And the next day.

He’ll say yes eventually, even if it’s just to stop me asking.

*****

Justin

We were sitting around discussing all the news when suddenly Brian asked, “What time are you supposed to be seeing the Dean this afternoon?”

There’d been a phone call first thing this morning, while we were getting ready to leave, asking me to come in for an appointment to discuss my “status”. I’d been so caught up in the whole thing with Vance that I’d almost forgotten.

I realized that I was going to be late if I didn’t motor. Brian insisted on driving me. He even parked the car and said he’d wait for me, which was great. Somehow knowing he was there made me a lot less nervous.

The interview with the Dean was almost funny. It was like he’d been placed in the position where, despite his own wishes, he’d been forced for the good of the school to suspend me, and now he was just delighted to be able to offer me my place back.

Nothing to do with the fact that Vance had called him, of course. Or that I dropped the Senator’s name and told him that I’d gone to her, as a friend, for advice.

(That’s what she told me to say, and I could see it rattled him. He went pasty white and started to sweat. I guess the idea of her asking awkward questions about political influence affecting student issues before the upcoming funds allocation meeting really does make him nervous.)

I was tempted to tell him to take his placement and put it somewhere painful, but that would have been beyond dumb. So I smiled, and played nice, like the good little middle class twink I was brought up to be. He talked about the arrangements he’s made with my tutors to help me make up my classes.

We even shook hands when I left.

So that’s it. As simple as that, after all the angst and shit they put me through.

I have to admit though that it does feel good to have my life back. I’m almost running as I get back to the car.

Brian doesn’t say anything, of course, just waits till I get in and takes off with a squeal of rubber, but he’s got that grin all over his face that means that he’s feeling pretty good.

We get back to the loft, and I’m keen to get in and show him that I’m feeling pretty good myself.

But he stops me outside the door.

“Justin, wait.”

He looks serious, and I get scared for a moment. Not now. It can’t be anything bad now.

He rubs his tongue over his lips, and pulls them in and sucks on them in that way he does when he’s debating what to say. Then he takes my hands and pulls them against his chest.

“I want you to come home.”

Whatever I was expecting, that was not it.

“Brian …”

I honestly don’t know what to say. I want to be with him. He knows that. But I’m sort of enjoying having some independence too. I’m not sure that I want to give that up yet. I’m not sure that I’m ready to.

And of course, the real thing is that I don’t know if I can deal with what living with him would mean.

I know that the “experiment” seems to be working right now, but I don’t expect Brian to be monogamous for ever. And dealing with the tricks when I can just walk away from it is one thing, having them in my face, hell! in my bed, that’s something else.

I just stand there and he sighs and gives a funny little nod, almost like I’ve said all that out loud.

“I know that it will mean some changes. I mean, the experiment is going okay, but we both know that sooner or later I’m going to fall off the wagon.”

I nod and meet his eyes so that he can see that I do know that, and I’m okay with it. It’s not the real issue.

He sort of grimaces and goes on, “I don’t want any more fucking rules.”

It’s my turn to grimace, because he wasn’t the one who broke the rules. I was the one who fucking shattered them, and our lives for a while into the bargain.

He shakes his head, and then touches his forehead against mine for a moment.

“We don’t need them. If we can’t fucking trust each other by now, then there’s no point.”

I nod again, but I’m a bit doubtful, and he knows it. And he knows why.

“I’m telling you that if you come home to me, that’s it. That’s what it is. Our home. Which means you and I. No fucking visitors waltzing in as if they own the place.”

He means Mikey.

“And no tricks.” He takes a deep breath, and I realize that I need to as well. Somehow, we’ve both forgotten to breathe for the last few minutes, this is so important to us.

“I can’t promise I won’t ever fuck anyone else. But not here. Not ever here. Not in our home, and not ever in front of you. When you’re with me, you’re the one I’m with.”

I stare into his eyes and I hardly know how to express what I’m feeling.

I pull my hands away so that I can cup them round his face. He smiles, and leans towards me, and then my arms are around his neck and we’re kissing.

And just like that I’m home.

I have to laugh, though, when he pulls the door open and insists on carrying me across the threshold.

He trips over a stray cushion and nearly fucking drops me.

But we make it to the bed okay.






next chapter

Comments

[rosy5000.livejournal.com]

I love how everything worked out for Brian at Vanguard. :D

But most of all... Brian actually verbalizing his commitment to Justin and the promise of no tricks at home. :D

[wren-kt7oz.livejournal.com]

Yes - funnily enough, I think that by the end of S3 Brian was ready to make a fairly strong commitment to Justin. But then in canon the whole Pink Posse thing happened - and I suspect that Justin's absolute disregard of Brian's feelings during that whole phase undermined a lot of Brian's always fragile confidence in their relationship and then, of course, the cancer thing happened, and then LA, and and and ...

In Experiment, I got to play with my ideas of how it might have gone without all that manufactured drama. :)

[pat-ace87.livejournal.com]

O man, I love you right now XXXDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!! This chapter was just fabulous (as Emmet would say ^_^)!!!!!!!!!~

[wren-kt7oz.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

For me, looking back, this chapter was a sort of water-shed in my writing. This was the chapter where I started to feel more confident in how I portrayed these characters, the one where I started to feel that I could actually get across how I saw them in a way that made sense to other people. Most of the time, anyway.

Glad you enjoyed it.

[yvonnereid.livejournal.com]

I loved this,id have given anything to have seen them escorting him off the premises "without so much a fucking ball point pen" but in season three,that would have been hilarious!lol