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Allie
Disclaimer: All things QAF belong to CowLip. I take
liberties but they own them, I don’t.
Characters: All Queer As Folk characters
Pairing: Brian and Justin
Warning: Entire Thing will be NC-17. Spoilers for
like all Five Seasons.
XXII - Learning To Let Go
"Breathe. Let go. And remind
yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for
sure."
~ Oprah Winfrey ~
June 26, 2019 9:34am
Gus' POV
The thing about
time is…no one can control it. No one can pause it, stop it, fast-forward or
rewind it. Despite outward knowledge and appearances, time is the one constant
in everyone's life. It's always moving us steadily along whether we want it to
or not. I lean forward in the chair and click print on the computer. I've been
trying not to watch the time, but it's right there in the corner of the screen
and I can't stop my eyes from looking there every few seconds. 9:35 AM. When
the printer starts I push the chair back and stand up. I decided that maybe
Justin was right about the picture I took of the sunrise, so I'm printing out a
poster-size version of it.
When Justin set
up my studio he really did think of everything, printers, computer programs,
chemicals, paper, framing supplies, on and on. Of course I can see where Dad
made his contributions, like the oversized and most likely expensive couch, the
glass-top table, and other modern touches here and there. I've added my own
touches too, music posters hanging on the walls next to art I've collected or
been given over the years, CD's scattered here or there, some of my things
laying in messy piles. It's funny to look around my studio and see the three of
us combined within these four walls.
Standing in front
of the printer, my eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 9:37 AM. With each
minute that passes the knot in my stomach gets tighter and tighter. I feel
nervous, anxious, excited, and fucking scared all at once. I've tried to
separate these feelings and compartmentalize them, but they merge and blend
making it impossible for me to tell where one starts and the other begins. The
only thing I do know is that there is a blanket of guilt that covers them all.
It surrounds them. Its embrace is so fucking tight that it makes it almost
impossible for me to breathe. When the printer stops, I pick up the picture and
hold it out in front of me. My eyes scan the picture with a critical eye
looking for any imperfection in the lighting, balance, context, content, or
overall feeling. 9:39 AM. For whatever reason I look over my shoulder, and even
though I should be surprised to see Grady there, I'm not. He's leaning against
the doorframe, loose faded jeans falling just right on his slim hips, toned
arms crossed over his royal blue t-shirt. His hair is wet, making it appear
darker than I know it is. I don't know how long he's been there, watching me,
but I have a feeling it's been longer than a minute.
I look back at
the picture in my hands. 9:40 AM. "You're early." Even though I can't
hear him, I can feel him getting closer. When he is standing next to me, the
knot in my stomach contorts. "What do you think?"
"I
think…it's awesome." He moves closer to me and our arms brush. I try to
deny the heat I feel as his skin grazes across mine. I try to deny the feelings
that wash over me from him being right. Fucking. There. Deny, deny, deny, Gus.
"It reminds me of this painting I did." He says softly.
"Oh?"
"Well…it was
abstract, but the overall feeling's the same." He takes the photograph
from me and lays it down on the table next to the desk. He stands in front of
the table and looks down at the picture. "I'm glad you called." He
turns to face me. His fingers wrap around the edge of the table as he leans
back. "I didn't think you would."
I shrug. "Me
either."
He looks over his
shoulder, then back at me. "It's really good."
His eyes are
darker today, more golden-brown instead of golden-yellow. "That's what
Justin said." My voice is rough as if I need to clear my throat.
"You should
listen to him. He knows what he's talking about." There is stillness in
the air. A thick layer of tension seems to build up between us with each second
that passes. Why does this feel so uncomfortable? Or maybe the problem isn't
that it's uncomfortable, but the fact that it's not. How the fuck should I
know? I don't' know what the hell I'm doing. I don't know what the hell I'm
feeling. I don't fucking know anything. We are just standing there, looking at
each other, as the silence between us becomes so thick it's almost hard to
breathe. This is fucking ridiculous. It wasn't like this before he kissed me,
was it? It wasn't. I don't think. Fuck.
I clear my
throat. "Look, Grady…" Something flashes in his eyes and everything I
planned to say suddenly evaporates. "I…" I had it all planned out. I
knew what I was going to say. What I should say, but now that he's here I can't
seem to remember any of it. "He didn't break up with me." Holy fuck!
What the fuck was that? That's not what I wanted to say. That's not anywhere
near what I fucking wanted to say to him.
I step back from
him and shake my head. I have no idea what I'm doing. I turn, walk across the
room, and flop down on the couch. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to
think of a way to come back from the statement I just made. I can't think of a
damn thing, and that's as frustrating as the mix of emotions whirling around
inside me. I just want it all to make sense, but none of it does. I remove my
fingers from the bridge of my nose and watch as he moves towards me with the
grace of a panther. When he reaches the couch, he sits down next to me.
"I know."
He says softly.
I lean back
against the couch and close my eyes. "Of course you do." Slowly I
open my eyes and look over at him. "How do you know?" He looks at me
and quickly looks away. I sit up. Grabbing his chin, turning his head toward
me, I force our eyes to meet. "How do you know?" I search his eyes,
and I wait. I can fucking wait forever if I have to.
"I know
because…" He pulls away from me and runs a hand through his hair.
"Because…"
"Just
fucking say it."
His eyes meet
mine and a flash of memory rushes over me. Fuck. Fuck. I lean forward pressing
my elbows into my knees as I grab my hair. I feel as if I'm going to be sick.
"You were
screaming. No matter what I said, or did, you just kept screaming out for
him."
I shake my head.
"Fuck." I feel the tears, but I close my eyes to lock them inside.
I'm not going to fucking cry. I'm not. His hand slides across my back until it
wraps around my shoulder. He pulls me to him. I can feel the heat of his breath
on my neck, and squeeze my eyes shut tighter. This is all so fucking wrong. So
fucking wrong. I grip my hair tighter. If it's so fucking wrong why does it
feel so fucking right?
"Hey."
His arm leaves my back and his hands cover mine. Gently, he pulls my hands from
my hair before wrapping around me like a warm coat in the middle of winter. We
lean back against the couch. He holds me and I let him.
I shake my head.
"You must think-"
"I
don't." He kisses my temple and god, do I want to suck up the comfort that
gives me, but there is that guilt again pressing down on me. His fingers move
on my shoulder, making small circles against the fabric of my shirt. "I'm
sorry."
My eyes snap open
and I pull away from him enough to look him in the eyes. "What the fuck
for?"
"That
he-" I push him back against the couch and move to stand up. His fingers
wrap around my wrist. "I'm not the enemy, Gus."
I jerk my arm
away from him as I stand up. I know he's not the enemy. I know that. I do. I
turn and look down at him. "He's…He…" The words are there. They want
to be set free, only I can't let them go, not yet, not in front of him.
"You don't
have to explain it to me."
"I know I
don't." I snap. My hands are clutched together as I pace in front of the
couch. "I can't…" I shake my head. This is crazy. I'm crazy. I know
what I should tell him. I know all the things I should say, but none of those
words seem to want to come out of my mouth.
"Gus."
His voice is stern, but not harsh. I stop pacing and look at him. "Come
'ere."
Sighing, I return
to the couch and sit beside him. Taking my hands in his, he pulls them apart. I
look down at our clasped hands, watching as his thumbs trace small circles
against my skin. I want to deny how that makes me feel, but I can't. I can't,
and it feels wrong and right all at the same fucking time.
One hand leaves
mine as he places it under my chin and tilts my head back until our eyes meet.
"Tell me about him."
"What?"
I croak, because of all the things I thought he might say, that wasn't one of
them.
"Tell me
about him."
"Why?"
He shrugs.
"Why not?" He runs the pad of his thumb across my lips, causing heat
to course through my body. "Don't you ever talk about him?"
My eyes drift to
the side. Do I ever talk about him? Have I ever really talked to anyone about
him? Besides the accident? Besides missing him? I can't even remember if anyone
ever asked about him. I don't think anyone ever really has. Probably because
they didn't want to upset me…or I don't know. I look back at Grady.
"No." I whisper. "Not really."
He wraps his arm
around my shoulders and leans back against the couch, pulling me with him.
"Tell me what he was like." I lean my head back against his arm, at a
total loss for what to do. "It might help."
I scoff.
"Help what?"
He pulls me
closer and whispers against my temple. "You."
***************************************
June 26, 2019 10:15am
Justin's
POV
I exit the
restaurant, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Kinnetik NYC is only about ten
blocks from here. Usually I'd take a cab, but today I need to walk. I need to
think of how to tell Brian about my meeting with Amy. I have to think about
Rauling's, TK, and fucking July 27th. I press the fingers of my right hand into
the palm of my left. I'd like to pretend it's the time issue that has me
resisting saying yes to Rauling's, but I know it isn't that. I haven't done
small scale work for a gallery in a long time. Hell, the last small scale
painting I attempted was the one I threw across my studio. If it was another
gallery, any other gallery, I wouldn't even have to think about it. I would
have told Amy, "Tell them I said thanks, but no thanks." I've done it
before, after I'd made a name for myself and could afford to do that. Rauling's
isn't just another gallery though. It's the best. It's the one.
When I was
starting out, when I really didn't have a choice, I'd say yes to anything. Just
like I told Grady, a starving artist never turns down an opportunity to
showcase their art. Sometimes it worked out, and sometimes it didn't. I've had
to drop out of more than a few shows because I just couldn't complete the
pieces they wanted within the time they wanted them. It's not that I can't do
small scale work, I can, but it's so fucking tedious. I have to take a break
and rest my hand after fifteen minutes. Sometimes, when everything is just
fucking flowing, when what's in my mind transfers to the canvas with virtual
ease, I tend to forget about things like taking breaks, cramped fingers, and
fucking nerve damage. That's when things get fucked up. That's when paintings
get fucked up. That's when I get pissed and stressed.
I dig through my
bag and pull out my pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, I light it and return
the pack to my bag. I suck on the cigarette. I haven't even said yes yet and
already I can feel the pressure. It's not all because of Rauling's. It's the TK
show that would be on the same day. I have to be available for Grady and Jas. I
have to help Maddie organize the event. I have to start thinking about
advertising for it. Brian usually handles that part, but I always design the
posters for the events. I shake my head and take another drag of my cigarette.
I can already feel the stress tightening the muscles in my neck and fingers.
There is no way I
can say no to Rauling's, but how the fuck am I going to finish twenty to
twenty-two pieces by July 27th? I'll have to spend every spare minute I have in
my studio. That means leaving the same time as Brian during the week. It means
late nights. Weekends I'd usually spend at home will be spent at the studio
instead. It means less time with Gus…and with Brian. It's not like this has
never happened before. When I was starting out it happened all the time, but
Brian wasn't living in
When I arrive at
Kinnetik, I flick my cigarette to the street and walk through the sliding glass
doors. Kinnetik NYC is almost nothing like Kinnetik PA. The
The man smiles up
at me as I lean against the countertop. "Can I help you sir?" He's
not bad looking, jet black hair, bright blue eyes, and almost perfect pink
lips.
"Yeah, I
need to see Brian."
His brows furrow
as he looks down at his computer. His fingers click the mouse and fly across
the keyboard. "Is Mr. Kinney expecting you?" He asks without looking up.
There is a slightly superior tone in his voice that I don't appreciate.
"No,
but-"
He looks up at
me. "I'm sorry sir. He's in a meeting and doesn't see unscheduled
appointments."
I really don't
feel like dealing with this right now. I take a deep breath and scratch the
back of my head. "He'll see me." I look at the clock behind him.
"And his meeting ended twenty minutes ago." He glares up at me as if
I just leaked highly confidential information. Usually I'd fuck around with the
newbie, make him worry for a while, but I'm not up for it today. I hold out my
hand to him. "I'm Justin Taylor." His eyes grow wide as he reaches
for my hand.
I can see the
recognition and regret in his eyes. "Right, of course, sorry about that
Mr. Taylor." Taking his hand back, he presses the button and unlocks the
doors that are located to the right of his desk.
I smile at him.
"Don't worry about it."
I walk through
the double doors and immediately feel the anxiety in the air. Brian must be
cracking the whip today. Everyone seems to be talking at once. People are
walking this way and that looking flustered. I travel through the maze of
hallways until I get to Cynthia's office. I lean against the doorway, watching
as she paces back and forth waving papers in her hand as she talks into her
earpiece. "Yes, I told him you were in a meeting. No. Yes. I don't know,
Ted. You tell him that." She sighs. "I'm transferring you." She
walks to her desk, pushes several buttons on the phone, and yanks off her
earpiece.
She tosses it on
her desk, and turns towards the door. The crease in her forehead mostly
disappears when she sees me. "Oh thank god!" I laugh as she
approaches, giving me a quick hug. "I'll give you half of my salary if you
can keep him occupied for the next hour."
"Just
half?"
She smiles at me.
"Well…I do have to pay rent and, you know, eat."
"Busy
day?"
"God, yes.
It feels like Monday." She shakes her head. "It seems as if nothing
is getting done right today." She raises her eyebrow and I read between
the lines. It's one of those, "no pleasing Brian" days.
I pat her on the
arm. "I'll see what I can do."
She smiles.
"You…are a lifesaver."
******************************************
June 26, 2019 10:25am
Gus' POV
"He
was…" We've been sitting in silence for the last fifteen minutes. I just
don't know what to say, or how to say it, or even where to fucking begin. How
do I describe someone that has been almost my entire life for the last nine
years? Especially since, for the last two of those years, he has been nothing
more than a series of memories that haunt me day and night?
"How did you
first meet?" Grady's voice is low and coaxing.
I smile.
"Fifth grade. He had just moved from
"Because he
took down a bully?"
I shake my head.
"No, because he wasn't afraid. Ash was just this little guy and he wasn't
ever afraid to stand up for himself when it came to shit like that." I
sigh. "Not long after that we became best friends."
"When did
you become more than friends?" His voice is so fucking calm, so fucking
non-threatening.
I lean into
Grady, eyes still closed. "We went to this dance in 9th grade. We both
took dates, but we were bored out of our fucking minds. See, I knew I was gay.
I'd known a long time by then, but it's not like I went shouting it from the
rooftops. I already got enough shit for having four gay parents."
"Makes
sense."
"Yeah."
I sigh.
"So the
dance?"
"Right."
I take a deep breath as I let the memory play behind my closed eyes. "We
were bored, like I said, so I grabbed him and told him to come with me. The
dance was in the gym, so we snuck into the locker room. When we got there I
pushed him into one of the shower stalls and lit up a joint." I smile.
"Ash thought I was out of my mind. Maybe I was." I shrug. "He
was so fucking paranoid. I just told him to chill the fuck out."
"What if
we get caught?"
I look down
at him as I take a hit of the joint. "We won't."
"Yeah,"
He whispers. "But what if we do?"
I roll my
eyes and place the joint backwards in my mouth. I raise my eyebrows at him and
lean forward. His eyes dart to the stall door and back at me before he leans
forward, his lips circling the end of the joint. Our lips barely touch, and
that feeling that I've been having around him lately pulsates through me. When
we pull back, I remove the joint from my mouth and smile down at him. He's
grinning up at me with wide eyes. Christ, one hit and he's already fucking
high.
"Better?"
He nods as he
exhales smoke. "Again."
I laugh,
shake my head, but shotgun him again nonetheless. When we finish the joint I
put it out with my shoe and push it down the shower drain. Ash starts laughing
as if that's the funniest thing he's ever seen. "Jesus, you're high."
I tell him.
"Mmm."
He leans into me, pushing me against the wall. His whole body presses against
mine and I get hard almost instantly.
I look down
at him as I raise my eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
He laughs as
he pushes his hands under my shirt and rubs his nose against my chest.
"What do you call it?" Tilting his head back he looks up at me. I
swear to god I must be higher than I thought because his eyes seem to be
fucking sparkling. "Putting the moves on you."
I grip his
waist and push him against the opposite wall. "Don't start something you
can't finish." I whisper into his ear before placing a wet, open mouth kiss
on his neck. His skin is salty and a little bitter from his cologne, but god he
tastes so good.
He pushes me
back against the wall and licks his lips. "I always finish what I start
Gus."
Opening my eyes,
I look over at Grady. "He got down on his knees and sucked me off right
there."
"No
fear."
I shake my head.
"None." I shrug. "That's when it all started." I
half-laugh. "In some shitty locker room during a boring school
dance." I lean my head back against Grady's arm. "I think this is the
first time I've talked about Ash without freaking out." I'm not going to
lie, that surprises me. It also surprises me how easy it was and how good it
felt.
"Why don't
you talk about him?"
I shrug. "It
just seems like no one else want to. I guess they figure I'll just-"
"Freak
out."
"I
guess."
"Well you
should talk about him. You obviously loved him a lot."
I sit up and turn
to face him. "I did." I look away, then back at him. "I
do." I whisper.
He reaches up and
caresses my cheek. "You miss him."
Closing my eyes,
I lean against his hand, soaking up the comfort he's offering. "Yeah…I
do."
I feel him move
on the couch. I feel his hot breath on my lips and I open my eyes. His other
hand cups the back of my neck. God, I want to kiss him. I want to, but at the
same time I feel like I shouldn't, like it's wrong to want it, or need it. I
pull back from him a little. "How do I hold on and let go at the same
time?" My voice is so low that even I can barely hear it.
His thumb strokes
my cheek. "One day at a time. One minute at a time." His fingers push
into my hair. "Remember the good things, the good times. Remember all the
things you love about him, and not just that last moment you saw him when
things went to shit." His voice is so soft, so comforting.
I press my
forehead to his. "How do you do that?"
"Do
what?"
"Know the
right things to say?"
He chuckles.
"I'm older than you?"
I shake my head.
"Try again."
Pulling back, he
looks me right in the eyes. "I guess that if I was in your shoes I'd want
someone to say those things to me."
I reach up and
hold his face between my hands. I search his eyes, but I don't know what I'm
trying to find. I stop thinking about what I should and shouldn't do. I stop
thinking about what's right and what's wrong. I take a deep breath, let go of
some small part of me, and I kiss him.
******************************************
June 26, 2019 10:45am
Justin's
POV
I hear his voice
before I reach his office door. "I don't care. These boards are for shit.
Go back to square fucking one. Hire someone new. I don't give a shit, just make
it happen."
"Bri, calm
down." Ted's voice crackles over the speaker phone.
"I am calm." I hear something hit the
floor and take that as my cue.
Pushing open the
glass door, I enter Brian's office. He's standing at the window, his back to
me. One hand is pressed flat against the window; the other is pinching the
bridge of his nose. His suit jacket is thrown over his chair, his sleeves are
rolled up to his elbows, his neck and ears are bright red, and I can see the
tension across his back. These are all classic signs of a very stressed and
irritated Brian Kinney. Quietly I walk over and sit down in one of the chairs
in front of his desk. I know better than to interrupt him when he's in the
middle of yelling at someone.
"Listen to
me Theodore. Are you listening?"
"Yes
Brian." I almost laugh at the bored tone in Ted's voice.
"Get it
done. Get it right, and get it to me by Monday." Brian removes his fingers
from the bridge of his nose and pushes himself away from the window.
"Threaten to fire someone if you-" He turns around and I smile at
him. "Have to." His eyes stay on me as he walks over to his desk and
disconnects the call. He drops into his chair and sighs.
"Rough day
dear?"
"It never
ends." He leans forward and spreads several sheets of paper in front of
him. "If I have to fly to fucking Pittsb-"
I cross my arms.
"You are not flying to
His eyes cut to
me. "Don't-"
"Tell you
what to do, I know." He glares at me because he's stressed and annoyed. I
push myself out of the chair and walk around the desk. He swivels in his chair,
grabs my hips, and pulls me down until I'm straddling his lap. I'm barely
sitting down when his lips cover mine and his tongue pushes into my mouth. His
face is hot, and his mouth tastes like ten dollar coffee. His hands slip under
my shirt and press against my lower back. Pushing my hands into his hair, I
deepen the kiss, asking for more and giving more in return. I could spend hours
upon hours just kissing Brian and never get tired of it. I kiss him until I
feel the tension leave his body. Finally, we pull apart, both a little
breathless.
He touches his
forehead to mine. "How did the meeting go?"
"It
went." He pushes me back and raises an eyebrow. "Two offers." He
brushes the hair back from my face. "Gavaiz in December." He leans
forward and licks the side of my neck. Fuck, that feels good. I lean my head
back to give him better access. One of his hands slides beneath the waistband
of my jeans. I try to focus on what I'm suppose to be telling him, but then he
starts sucking on that spot I love, and I can't remember anything.
He sucks the skin
of my neck, nips it, and then runs his tongue over the bite mark.
"And?" He mumbles between kisses.
He unbuttons and
unzips my jeans so that he can get better access to my ass. "Ah." His
finger circles my hole, and I have no idea what he's asking me anymore. Blindly
I reach to unbutton his shirt. The sudden need to feel his skin is
overpowering. His hands grip my hips and I wrap my arms around his neck,
knowing that any second now he's going to stand up and push me down on top of
his desk. It's a quick and well practiced move. Standing, he sweeps all the
papers off his desk before pushing me back against the glass top. Our lips meet
again as we struggle to free each other of our clothes, or at least most of
them. When he removes my pants, and his own fall around his feet, I feel the
coldness of the lube right before I feel the heat of his cock. There is
nothing, nothing, like getting fucked hard and fast while laid out across
Brian's desk. Our hands clasp together as he presses them to the glass surface.
Our tongues dart and dance, and we fuck like we haven't seen each other in
days.
****************************************
June 26, 2019 10:50am
Gus' POV
His mouth tastes
like cinnamon and his hands feel like silk. I'm not sure when or how, but Grady
is laid out on the couch beneath me. In between kisses, his shirt was removed
and tossed…somewhere. I slide my lips over his jaw, and down his neck. He leans
his head back as his hands push my shirt further up my body. His skin is salty
and sweet, and like nothing I've ever tasted before. I kiss my way back up
until my lips cover his again. I press my body down on his, thinking that this
shouldn't feel as good as it does. I shouldn't want it or need it or fucking
like it, but I do.
She wants to
be a rock star
She dyes her hair the same color as my
scars
She's a twisted sister with twisted views
She reads the paper for the ad's not the
news
We pull apart and
start laughing. "Metals of Death?" Grady huffs.
"My
sister." I finally got around to changing my ring tone because if I had to
hear O'Canada one more time I'd go crazy.
"You gonna
answer?" He kisses my neck.
"She'll call
back." I push his head back and suck his lower lip into my mouth. When he
moans, I grin, and suck harder.
She wants to
be a rock star
She dyes her hair the same color as my
scars
She's a twisted sister with twisted views
She reads the paper for the ad's not the
news
Releasing his
lip, I press our foreheads together. Both of us are a little breathless.
"Fuck." I mumble.
"You should
get it." His hands stroke my back. "It might be important."
I want to tell
him that if I stop now my brain will turn back on and I don't know if I'll be
able to finish this. I also know JR will keep calling until I answer. She's
annoying like that. Sighing, I push myself off Grady and get up. I cross the
room, running my tongue over my lips. They feel swollen and fucking used. I pick up my bag from the floor,
set it on the table, and dig my phone out. Flipping it open, I press it to my
ear. "What?"
"Hello to
you too." She sighs.
Great, she's
having some kind of crisis. "What's wrong?" I pick up my pack of
cigarettes, take one out, and light it before tossing the pack and the lighter
back on the table.
"The moms
are coming to get me on Friday."
Taking a drag, I
sit down in one of the chairs around the table. I look over at Grady. He's
propped up on his elbow, hand against his face, watching me.
"Already?"
"Yes."
She draws out the word and sighs at the end of it. JR and I are a lot alike,
especially when it comes to our dads. We hate that our time with them always
seems to be short, sporadic, and never enough. It's not like that for me
anymore, but it used to be. "And…"
I furrow my brow.
"And?"
"Theywanttocomeseeyouthisweekend."
She says it all in one breath, so it comes out sounding like one word.
I stand up so
abruptly that the chair falls over. "What?" Grady sits up on the
couch, his own brows furrowing.
She sighs again.
"That's what Mom told me. She said, 'Call your brother and tell him we
want to come see him while we're close by.'"
Taking a drag of
my cigarette, I start pacing. "So she asked you to ask me?"
"You know
how she is." I can feel her smile as she says her next words. "For some reason she thinks you can't tell me
no."
Okay…well, that's
true. I can't say no to JR. Believe me I've tried. It's impossible. She's too
much like Ma sometimes. "No."
"Gus."
She whines. And sometimes she's too much like Uncle Mikey.
"I can't
believe she didn't just call me herself." It pisses me off mostly because
it feels like I'm being manipulated, and I guess I am.
"It's wrong,
I know." She sighs. "I do wanna see you though."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"It's only been three weeks." I remind her. "And you call almost
everyday." Not that I mind. Not that I'd ever tell her that. I kind of like
it because honestly, I miss her too. More than I thought I would.
"It's not
the same and you know it." She sighs. "Are you really going to make
me do this? Just say yes so that we can skip the middle part." The middle
part, as she calls it, is where I list a thousand and one reasons why I don't
want to do what she's asking and she argues, effectively, against every.
single. one. I glance over at Grady. He's still shirtless, watching me with a
concerned look on his face. "Gus?"
"Fine."
I sigh. "Yeah okay." I quickly remove the phone from my ear to keep
from going deaf as she lets out a squee of delight. She's so fucking easy.
"Okay."
I put the phone back to my ear. "I'm gonna call Mom. I love you. I love
you. I love you."
I put out my
cigarette and roll my eyes. "Whatever."
She laughs high
and loud. "Come on Gus, say it."
I cross the room
and flop down on the couch next to Grady. "You too."
"See? That
wasn't so hard was it? I'll call you with the info later."
I succumb to my
fate. "Yeah okay."
"I really do
miss you." Her voice is soft and teary.
"I know.
Call me later." I mimic her tone.
"'K, love
ya, bye."
I flip the phone
closed and toss it next to me on the couch.
"Everything
okay?"
I lean my head
back against the couch. "Yeah. Great." I turn my head towards him.
"My moms and sister are coming to see me this weekend."
He reaches over
and pushes the hair off my forehead. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No." I
half-lie. It's not a bad thing,
but I don't know that it's a good
thing either.
******************************************
June 26, 2019 11:28am
Brian's
POV
I look over at
Justin, watching as he picks at the salad in front of him. "What's
wrong?"
He looks up at me
almost like he's surprised. "Huh?"
"What's.
Wrong?"
Setting down his
fork, he leans back in the chair. "The second show." Right, the one I
didn't getting around to asking about. "It's Rauling's."
I raise an
eyebrow. "Rauling's?"
"Yes."
He sighs.
"That's-"
"Huge."
If he doesn't stop fucking completing my sentences… He pushes back his chair
and stands up. "I know." He picks up his half eaten salad and throws
it away.
"You don't
seem excited about it."
He looks over at
me. "I am."
"Okay."
I watch as he
walks over to my desk and straightens out some papers. I lean back in the chair
and wait. "It's in July." I re-raise my eyebrow, because that's
fucking short notice for a place like Rauling's. "27th." He sighs.
The 27th, same day as the TK show, but that's not what's bothering him, not
really, I can tell. "Twenty to twenty-two pieces." He turns around
and leans against the desk, meeting my eyes as he says, "Ten small
scale."
I shake my head.
"No way."
He furrows his
brow. "I can't say no."
I get up and
throw my salad away in the trash. "Well you aren't saying yes."
"Don't-"
"Tell you
what to do, I know." I walk around my desk and sit down. "You can say
no."
He turns around
and presses his hands flat against the top of my desk. "No, I can't."
I shake my head.
"Justin." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "They want twenty
pieces altogether, ten of those small scale, with only a fucking month's
notice?" I remove my fingers and look up at him. "Tell them no."
"Brian…"
"Do you know
what that will do to your fucking hand?"
He pushes himself
away from the desk. "Of course I know!"
"Well if you
know-"
"Brian, its
Rauling's."
I shake my head.
"So fucking what, Justin? You're not some piss-ant artist. If they want
you, it should be on your terms, not theirs." I can't believe this
bullshit. I can't believe Amy even came to the table with that kind of deal.
He's fucking well-known, brilliant, and one of the top-selling artists in
"I
know." He looks up at me and I can see the frustration on his face.
"Tell Amy to
work with them. Move the date back for one, and…" I shake my head.
"I
know." He gets up and walks over to the window. "I fucking know."
Sometimes he's
still a stupid little twat. I get up, walk over to him, and wrap my arms around
him. "Rauling's is huge." He lays his hands over my arms and leans
back into me. "I know you want to say yes to this because you think you
can't say no." I turn him around and cup his face between my hands. I
press my tongue against my cheek. "You're Justin fucking
"Yes."
I pull him to me, his arms wrap around my waist. He lays his cheek against my
chest. "You're right." He sighs. "I hate that."
I curl my fingers
into his hair. "I know."
*************************************
June 26, 2019 11:29am
Gus' POV
I watch as Grady
puts his shirt back on. I have no idea what I'm doing. All I know is that if JR
hadn't called, if he didn't have to go to work, that'd we'd still be
kissing…or…who the fuck knows.
He turns to face
me. "You'll call me?"
I push myself off
the couch and stand up. "Yeah. I'll call."
He walks over to
me. "Good."
I push my tongue
into my cheek. "Maybe you can meet my moms." Like I said, I have no
idea what I'm doing. I have no idea how these words are coming out of my mouth,
or even why.
He lifts his
eyebrow and grins. "And your sister. Maybe I can convince her to teach me
her secret ways of getting you to say yes."
Christ. "I
knew I shouldn't have told you that."
He leans forward,
pauses, and then kisses me. I'm so fucked. He pulls back and smiles. "Call
me."
I nod and watch him walk out the door. Denial is obviously something I'm not any good at.