Three days had passed since that night with Justin in New York I still hadn't decided whether or not I should call him. On the one hand, if the sex was any indication, we had the potential to be great again. I mean, maybe he was the missing link to my being happy again. Truth be told, the happiest I'd ever felt was when he and I were together, before all the lies and the anger. On the other hand, it could fall apart again and I'd probably be more miserable than ever. So there I was, sitting at my desk, flipping his card between my fingers, wondering whether I had the strength to call him.
In those three days I had become a lot more honest with myself, probably the best thing to come from seeing him again. Before hashing things out with him I had nearly convinced myself that, while I had been happy with him in our time together, I was never in love with him and there were no left over feelings for him. In truth, there had never been any closure and my feelings had never been resolved. While I never went back to being the Brian Kinney of old, I stopped letting people in. I even pushed Michael away to a degree.
Being with him again, feeling him against me, hearing him cry my name when I touched him, it all brought those old feelings to the surface. Not the angry feelings, those came out earlier in the evening. No, being close with him again brought back all those happy feelings... I felt like I was loved again. And while I hated to admit it, it felt to good to feel like I was important to someone again. Which brings me back to the dilemma that I found myself in. Could I put faith in those feelings and let myself put faith in Justin again, or was I better off to call it closure and leave him in the past.
That night, when he and I were in bed together... I can’t stomach either the term "fucking" or "making love" when it comes to what we did that night, so I'll just refer to it as "when we were in bed together"... I tried to give myself the illusion of control. I took charge and led the way, but now that I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that it was just that, an illusion. Had Justin even attempted to take the lead, I probably would have let him. Happily. It's always been like that. He let me believe I was in control, but we both knew that I wasn't.
He always did know me better than I knew myself. That morning, when I was driving him to school, when he told me that he was onto me... I was so scared that he was right and I was terrified of what that meant.
We were always so dramatic, when we were together, never quite ready to leave the soap opera behind and move on into the real world. We made life so complicated, always in search of drama. Nothing was small, we both made everything so huge, took everything so personally. I suppose that was what made us fall apart. Justin was sick of the drama and in search of something simpler so in a grand gesture, keeping with the drama, I pushed him away. He left the drama behind, and I wallowed in it.
It's strange to finally admit your feelings to yourself after pushing them down so that you couldn't even find them for so many years. I really did believe that I didn't love him. I guess it was because it wasn't what I had learned "love" was. I always thought that love was a weakness, that it made you lose yourself. With him, it wasn't like that. It was everything... it was pleasure and pain... it was silence and deafening noise... it was happiness and it was pain... But it was never weakness... I never let myself be weak...
I wasn't sure whether I liked letting my feelings free. I had to admit, it was less work than keeping everything bottled up inside, using all of my strength to push it away. The problem with acknowledging how you feel is that it's a lot harder to control the feelings once you realize that they're there.
So there I was... Stuck between an ending and a beginning unsure of which road to take. I was never one to believe that things happen for a reason. If I was that type of person, I'd probably be even more unhappy that I already was. No, I believed that you make your own happiness, and in turn that I had made my own unhappiness. But I was starting to wonder whether it was coincidence or fate that Justin had come back into my life at a time when both we were at a place where it had the potential to work out.
"Brian?" My musings were interrupted when Cynthia buzzed in to my office. I was a little annoyed at being interrupted when I felt so close to making a decision.
"Yes?"
"Lindsay is here to see you." She had taken to calling Lindsay by her first name since they had become good friends after Linds brought Gus in to my office one Friday afternoon to drop him off for the weekend.
"Send her in." I rubbed my eyes and ran a hand through my hair. I had been avoiding "the gang" since returning from New York, wanting to prolong the interrogation about Justin bribing Michael for my room number as long as possible. Knowing my friends, they already had us picking out china patterns and inquiring about adopting.
Lindsay walked into my office with a knowing smile and I knew that my avoidance wouldn't last much longer. Lindsay had a way of making me do and say things that I wouldn't do or say for anyone else. "Hi, Bri." She said as she walked around my desk to press a kiss to my cheek before moving to sit across from me.
"Hey, Linds." I forced a tight smile. "What brings you out to this neck of the woods?"
"Just thought that you and I could maybe grab some lunch and have a little chat." She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I haven't seen you since before the opening in New York."
"It's only been three days. Are you going through withdrawal symptoms already?" I asked raising an eyebrow. "I thought dykes were immune."
"Just curious to know why you've been hiding these last few days. We've noticed your absence." I could tell by the look on her face and the look on her face that she was itching to get down to the gossip.
"Been busy." I shrugged, trying not to let on that I knew what she was up to, that would have implied that there was something to hide. "I do have a job you know."
"So, have you talked to Justin since you got back?" Yup, when Lindsay cut to
the chase, she cut to it with a great big butcher knife.
"Now, why would I have talked to him?" I asked, sitting back in my chair trying to appear casual.
"Listen, Bucko. We all know he went to your room after the opening!" All pretense of a casual "chat" was lost.
"Who's 'we all'?" I was trying to avoid talking about my "visit" with Justin for as long as humanly possible.
"Brian Andrew Kinney! Cut to the chase! You know exactly who 'we all' is!" Apparently Lindsay was getting annoyed at not getting the goods straight off.
"Yes, he came to my room." I only confirmed what she already knew, and was sure that she would call me on it.
"And...?"
"And what?"
"Brian, you and I both know that you two didn't sit down, have a drink, and reminisce on the bad old days." Lindsay was tapping her foot with impatience. "That's not, nor has it ever been your style."
"My style? Are you expecting me to tell you that I dragged him into the room and ravished him until morning and then kicked him out on his butt before sunrise?" I asked, feeling the anger and hurt build inside me.
"I can't say I'd be shocked."
"Well, that's not what happened. So be shocked!" I stood and started pacing, hurt that she thought so little of me, and of my feelings for Justin. That emotion surprised me. Hadn't I been hiding my feelings for Justin since the day I met him?
"Well, what happened?"
"We talked. We argued. We... We fucked." I cringed at the word, still not feeling that it was the right word for what we did.
"And that's it? It's over?" Lindsay asked, shock apparent on her face.
"I don't know." I said quietly, finally letting the facade drop. "He left it in my hands." I grabbed the card off my desk and handed it to her.
"What, exactly, don't you know?" She asked after reading what he'd written.
"I don't know if I want to get into the same old shit with him." I said, exasperated. "We're both too old for all the drama."
"What makes you think it would be the same?"
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time, Linds. He and I are both different people now.” I admitted, not feeling completely comfortable with being so honest with another person. I was starting to feel sort of like a woman… or Emmett… making every little thing into a tragedy.
“Well, well, well, Brian Kinney is thinking with his head instead of his dick for once.” Lindsay nodded her approval. I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that she still thought of me as the pre-Justin version of myself. I hadn’t been that guy for a long time.
“Well, that’s insulting.”
“I’m sorry, Bri. It’s just a little disconcerting to see you thinking beyond the sex.” Lindsay’s intentions were obviously to make the situation better, but I was still annoyed at what she thought of me.
“Sex has never been a problem for me, Linds, and it has very little to do with whether or not I want to be in a relationship with Justin again.” I couldn’t believe that I was speaking so freely what I was feeling, no barriers.
“I’m proud of you, Brian Kinney.” Lindsay smiled.
“For what?”
“For leaving Peter Pan in the past.” Lindsay smiled and came over to hug me.
“Whatever you do, I know it’ll be the right thing for you.”
“Now, are you going to be sharing this information with ‘we all’ or can I trust that this will stay between the two of us?” I asked, afraid that if everyone knew, I’d never be about to protect myself again.
“Cross my heart and kiss my elbow.” Lindsay grinned. “So, how about lunch?”
***
Sitting alone in my loft later than night, looking down at the card in my hands, I was still at the same crossroads I had been at since returning from New York. During my lunch with Lindsay we had cautiously avoided bringing Justin up again. Instead we filled our conversation with discussions of the group I was officially calling "we all".
Apparently, Emmett had another new love. A businessman he met at a club in New York. They were trying to continue a long distance relationship and Emmett was tortured after three days of being apart from his love... who he had only known for five days. I inserted the appropriate sarcastic remarks and we moved on.
Ted was still fucking the pool boy while his dutiful 'wife' kept their house and watched over their adopted daughter, Ling. Yup, that's right, Theodore Schmidt was living the high life off his porn business with his lover, Jason, and the pool boy, Javier.
Michael and Ben were still going strong. They were starting to remind me of the munchers, to be honest. But apparently Ben wasn't too impressed with Michael putting the painting that Justin had bribed him with in his office. According to Lindsay, it was all a big drama.
On the Lindsay and Mel front things were apparently "just lovely". Melanie was working shorter hours and spending more time with Lindsay and Gus. Lindsay told me that Gus missed his Daddy very much and made me promise to come for dinner later in the week.
Lucky for me, we were finished lunch by the time the conversation ran dry and I got out of there without another mention of my situation with Justin. It actually seemed like Lindsay was giving me some credit and not trying to "help" in my decision-making. At the time, I was glad of that. But sitting alone in my loft, still unsure of what to do, I wondered if it would have been better if Lindsay had put her $.02 in.
Being alone again, however, brought my thoughts immediately back to Justin. I knew that if and when I did call him, I'd find myself falling back into a relationship with him, with no way of stopping myself. That's how it was with Justin, how it always would be. I needed to be sure that was what I wanted before I walked towards the ledge.
I wondered what Justin was doing at that exact moment. Was he thinking about me too? Was he sitting on his couch flipping the phone from hand to hand, as I was doing his card? Or had he given up on me already? I started to wonder what I would have done were I in Justin's situation. I wanted to believe that I wouldn't be waiting, but then I looked at myself, consumed with thoughts of him, and I knew that I would be.
I stood and walked over to the radio, turning on the local rock station. As I sat back down and took a sip of the glass of Beam on the table next to me, I started to drift away into the lyrics of the song that was playing. I could have been singing them myself. They were exactly how I'd always felt about Justin and I immediately made my decision. I wasn't going to call.
I ran to the computer and searched the Internet for the lyrics and eventually downloaded the song. I played it over and over as I stared at Justin's card and at the computer screen. I knew that I was making the right decision. If I called, it wouldn't work. I'd say the wrong thing, or get angry, and it would all be ruined. No. I wasn't going to call him.
***
Justin POV
Four fucking days and not a word from Brian. I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that he was never going to call, that it was truly over this time. The last time, he made his grand gesture by fucking Rage, but in the end I had taken the situation into my hands, and left him. This time I had decided that I wanted him to make the decision.
Leaving his room that morning had been so difficult for me. After spending the night with him, feeling him again, I never wanted to be away from him again, but I knew that I had to let him make the decision. I needed him to choose me. It may have been childish, but the only thing I've ever wanted was for him to choose me, and I never felt like he did.
After waiting and waiting for him to call though, I was ready to give up. I wanted to pick up the phone and beg him to want me again. I was afraid that he was too angry with me leaving, five years ago and the night in New York. I was going to just leave my card on the pillow, I was almost out the door before I turned around and grabbed the pen. I wanted him to know what I wanted so he wasn't making his decision blindly.
So there I was, sitting in my studio, completely stalled as far as my art went, with one eye on the phone at all times. I didn't even dare turn on the stereo or TV in fear that I would miss the call. But he wasn't calling. I was starting to realize that.
Suddenly, it was there. The urge to paint welled up inside me and I hurried over to my easel, anxious to put what I was feeling onto paper. The feelings that came from me were all blue and green, they were sad. And then there were the reds and oranges, that was the love. Several hours later I looked at what I had created and I felt emotion well up inside me and I started to cry.
On the canvas was Brian. Not the Brian that everyone saw, I knew that wasn't real. No, on this canvas was the Brian that I knew and loved, the part of him that had always been reserved just for me. And the canvas also held strokes of my regret and sadness over what my feelings for him had become. Something that had once made me so happy, now brought me more pain that I had ever experienced in my life.
As the tears poured from my eyes I started to laugh at myself. I suppose I must have looked kind of crazy, on my knees in front of a painting crying and laughing hysterically all at once. But it was all I could do. There, on the canvas in front of me, was the proof that I still wanted and needed him more than anything. This was one painting that I would never sell. It was all mine.
The familiar, but still immensely irritating sound of "You've Got Mail" came from my computer, and roused me from my crying/laughing fit. I shook my head and walked to the computer, still glancing back at the painting as I walked. I looked at my inbox and was surprised to see a message from Brian.
To: jtaylor@artnet.com
From: bkinney@thepitts.com
Subject: I couldn't call
I knew I'd mess everything up if I called. I've never been able to tell you what I was feeling and what I wanted unless it was written down. Let me tell you what it was that tipped the scales and made me write this. For the last four days I've been staring at your card wondering whether calling you would be for the best. And then, last night, I was sitting here and I turned on the radio. A song came on that expressed exactly how I feel about you, and I knew that contacting you was the right thing to do.
Just listen to the song... It says it much better than I can...
B.
I clicked on the attachment that accompanied Brian's email and cautiously turned the volume on my computer up. I was afraid that the song would be telling me that it was over. A sad love song was the last thing I needed at that moment.
As the song started, I sucked in a breath and I'm almost certain I didn't let it go at any point during the entire song.
"Find me here
Speak to me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place
Where I find peace again
You are the strength
That keeps me walking
You are the hope
That keeps me trusting
You are the life
To my soul
You are my purpose
You are everything
And how can I
Stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me
How could it be
Any better than this
You calm the storms
You give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won't let me fall
You still my heart
And you take my breath away
Would you take me in
Would you take me deeper now
And how can I
Stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me
How could it be
Any better than this
Cause you're all I want
You are all I need
You are everything
Everything
You are all I want
You are all I need
You are everything
Everything
And how can I
Stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me
How could it be
Any better than this
Would you tell me
How could it be
Any better than this"
When the song was over, I was sure that I was going to die because life could be no better than Brian telling me those things, even if his vessel was someone else’s song. I laid my head down on the desk and I let myself cry. I couldn't believe that it was possible that we were actually getting a second chance.
***
Brian POV
I have to admit, the waiting was a bitch. I sat in my loft, in the dark, alone that night, hoping that he would call. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t drink, but I smoked about two packs. I was anxious and needed something to calm me down.
When the phone rang around midnight, I nearly hit the ceiling. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before I hit talk on my phone. “Hello?”
“Hi.” The familiar, nervous voice was like music to my ears.
“Hey.” I was smiling, thrilled that he called, and I’m sure he heard it in my voice because he perked up.
“I got your email.” He sounded a little emotional. “It was beautiful.” I could tell he was crying a little bit.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
“I understand.” He took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself to say something. “So, where do we go from here?”
“Let’s just see where it takes us?” I suggested, still not ready to make any solid plans or promises about where we would go and what we would do. Promises and plans were the things that ruined relationships… they were always broken.
“I like that idea.” I had a mental picture of Justin beaming, the “sunshine” smile lighting up his face and I knew that we would be okay. It was a wonderful beginning and I fully intended to take advantage of the second chance I had gotten.
Part 3 - Somebody
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