Gift # 26 TO:maybe742 FROM:delvalmom TITLE: If I Gave You Everything GIFT REQUEST: Post-513. Since same-sex marriage became legal in Pennsylvania this year, I wish for a wedding fic. NOTE: About 1,950 words. So, this is a wedding fic without an actual wedding taking place, but I hope maybe742 likes it anyway.
If I Gave You Everything
The last time Brian had been to L.A., it had rained every day. He was there for almost two weeks, and every fucking morning it was the same thing; gray skies and a relentless drizzle that never let up.
The beautiful people were beginning to look positively desperate after the third day. By the end of week two, the tanning salons couldn't keep up with the demand, and things had begun to get really ugly.
But after the first 24 hours, Brian had recognized the shitty weather for the not-so-subtle and obviously ominous harbinger of doom that it was. It was nature's way of telling him that he had been a fucking idiot to imagine that someone like him would ever get a happily ever after.
Justin had put on a good show, but Brian could see the writing on the wall, and it wasn't 'Brian + Justin 4ever'. The fucking was still phenomenal, especially after three months of Skype sex and countless desperate dirty phone calls, but Brian knew Justin needed more than he would ever be able to give him. He deserved to be free to find someone younger, someone happier, someone who could be with him in the flesh every day and every night. And that someone would never be Brian.
His last night in California, Brian had indulged his boy, reserving a table at a ridiculously romantic restaurant, complete with piano bar and patio dining overlooking the South Bay. He'd reveled in the sight of Justin by candlelight, bay breeze gently ruffling his hair, making Brian's fingers ache to touch it, desiring to wrap it's softness into a tangled mess as he pulled Justin's lips to meet his. So he did.
He indulged himself as much as Justin that night, holding hands across the table, ignoring the subtle fuck-me signals being thrown his way by their hot young waiter, replacing his usual sarcasm with sincerity. By the end of the meal, Justin would have agreed to sex on the piano, a scenario Brian put aside for solo pleasuring fantasies after he left California, and Justin, behind.
They woke up in the pale pre-dawn light the next morning as Brian had an early flight and Justin had an earlier call at the studio. Wordlessly, Brian pulled Justin into the shower, pressing him into the steamy mist that covered the glass doors, fingers linked as he spread their hands above Justin's head, fucking into him slowly, mouth open against the nape of his neck, before closing his lips to taste Justin's skin, marking him for the last time.
Afterwards, Justin searched his eyes curiously, soaping Brian up, fingers massaging into his scalp gently, reminding Brian of the times Justin had done this when he had been too sick and weak from radiation to do it for himself. And for just a moment, Brian paused and stared back into Justin's eyes, doubting his instincts and wondering if maybe he was wrong; perhaps there was a chance that being Justin's partner, even from the other side of the country, actually could work for them. Then he saw the questions and slight confusion in Justin's expression, and he dropped to his knees quickly, distracting the lad with an unexpected and naturally quite stellar, Kinney blow job.
In the end, their last goodbye was somewhat anti-climatic. Justin dropped him off at LAX curbside, unable to get a last minute conference call postponed, and as Brian reminded Justin as he kissed him goodbye, business is business. Of course, since Justin wasn't informed of Brian's decision to quietly fade out of his life, there was no need for any drama to be involved.
It wasn't until many unreturned phone calls, and frustrated visits to Pittsburgh when Brian was always conveniently away on business, that Justin remembered his final words that morning outside the airport. This time Brian didn't throw him off the infamous Kinney cliff, or goad him into leaving; this time Brian simply faded out of his life, like he'd never even been there at all.
Within the next year, Brian turned control of Kinnetik over to Theodore and Cynthia, accepting a position as a consultant for Remson Pharmaceuticals, relocating to Washington DC, entering the political arena as a tenacious lobbyist for the various HIV drugs that needed his particular brand of persuasion to get the necessary approvals fast tracked.
He told everyone he'd needed new challenges and fresher faces and asses than he was finding in the Pitts. No one was brave enough to roll their eyes in his presence, and when Michael tried to turn a conversation into a therapy session about his previous non-relationship with a certain blond twat, the silence from Brian was deafening, sometimes lasting months. After that, to Brian's satisfaction, it seemed as though everyone decided to finally mind their own fucking business.
Brian steadily worked his way up the Washington ladder, finding the money was easy and the pretty boys even easier, although sadly, not tighter. He eventually got back in touch with Michael, but rarely visited the Pitts. He checked in with Theodore weekly to keep his finger on the pulse of Kinnetik, letting it be known that his privacy in DC was absolute, but pausing to listen, albeit feigning extreme boredom, when a certain successful artist's name was mentioned.
Brian, however, had followed Justin's career as closely as he could, taking pride in every success and every award that the lad won, knowing that he had made the right decision in setting Justin free. And if he sometimes wished that he could congratulate the boy in person, well, that was what long nights of drinking Beam and fucking anonymous ass were meant for.
Everything was going perfectly, and then it seemed the momentum for same sex marriage took on the power of a million fucking freight trains, and suddenly, it was legalized in Pennsylvania. Brian noted it somewhat absently, preoccupied with untangling five thousand miles of FDA red tape, which is why he was taken off-fucking-guard when Theodore called him on a Friday night just before Brian was heading out to Suck and Blow Night at his favorite club.
"Yes, Theodore?" He answered, while admiring his newest tight black tee and even tighter black jeans in his full length mirror. "If you're calling to tell me you've run my company into the ground, I'll have to kill you on Monday. I plan to be too fucked out for murder until then."
"Ah-Brian," Ted laughed nervously into the receiver, but recovering quickly as he blurted out his news. "I'm getting married!"
Brian raised his eyebrows at his reflection in the mirror, a feeling someone else might define as loneliness crossing his features briefly. "Christ, did I teach you nothing? Always practice safe sex, Theodore. So, you knocked Blake up? Or are you the spawnee?"
"Haha, Bri. You're a riot." Ted answered, playing the familiar game before continuing with his news. "We're just having a small event; and I know how much you hate weddings," Ted paused, and Brian sighed to himself, already knowing he was fucked. "But it would really mean a lot to me, and to Blake, if you would attend."
Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, walking to his ceiling-to-floor length window, looking out over the lights of the Capitol thoughtfully.
"Brian?" Ted spoke hesitantly, and Brian shook his head slightly, deliberately turning his thoughts back to Ted, and away from their West Coast drifting.
"Sorry, Ted." Brian answered, forcing his tone to sound casual. "When is the happy occasion?"
"Two weeks from tomorrow."
"Yes, I'll be there." Brian sighed dramatically. "If you're so eager to trip up the aisle, the least I can do is be there to watch and laugh."
"Gee, Brian, thanks. That will truly help make it an unforgettable day for Blake and me." Ted hesitated and cleared his throat. "Lindsay and Mel will be there with the kids. And Justin will be flying in from L.A. Um, you can bring a plus one if you'd like."
Brian frowned and shut his eyes tightly. He was officially getting a fucking migraine. "How sweet. Is Justin bringing a date?" He tried to sound bored, but his fingers were turning white where he clutched his phone.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Blake spoke to him." There was an awkward silence. "But I can find out if you'd like?"
"No!" Brian answered sharply, before catching himself and taking a deep breath. "That's not necessary, Theodore. It's not important. Listen, I've got to go. Congratulations to you and your lovely bride."
The next two weeks Brian found himself working longer hours, and yet still getting more sleep than he had since his infamous adventures with radiation days. The night before he was due to fly to Pittsburgh, he realized he hadn't tricked since he'd gotten Ted's call. It appeared that just the thought of happy homos skipping down the aisle was enough to make his dick soft, except it seemed his dick hadn't gotten that memo from his brain. He found himself achingly hard, even as he found it almost impossible to find relief. The thought of anonymous ass only made him feel more restless and confused. He'd caught himself wondering if Justin was going to be alone at the wedding, or if he'd found someone else, someone who loved him, sharing in his successes, consoling him in his disappointments. Someone who was there for him, but was hopefully also hot as fuck to match Justin's own beauty. Fuck. Someone like him!
Brian double-checked his carry on as he stood in line to deplane in Pittsburgh, the strange sense of excitement that had settled in his gut as they'd circled the airport getting stronger the closer he got to the plane's exit. He'd told Ted he'd grab a taxi from the airport to the loft, no reason for anyone to waste time in the airport traffic, but he found himself covertly searching the faces of the people on the concourse as he left the terminal.
Just inside the main lobby, he stopped dead in his tracks, a familiar smirking face catching his full attention, making him aware that he could suddenly hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
Justin stepped forward, completely ignoring any concept of personal space, hands reaching out to cup either side of Brian's face.
"Hello, you Asshole!" Brian simply studied the man before him, words lost to a strange lump that had lodged in his throat. "Are you finally done running?" Then Justin leaned in and kissed his lips softly. "I've really, really missed your fucked up ass."
Brian pressed his forehead against Justin's, his fingers fumbling into the pocket of his overcoat that he'd slung over his arm. His fingers finally co-operated, brushing against the small velvet box he'd placed there right before he'd left his DC penthouse.
He pulled the box out wordlessly, breath catching at the sight of the smile he'd thought he'd never see again. Clearing his throat, he tried to explain. "I thought I couldn't give you what you deserved." He rolled his lips nervously, opening the box to show the rings nestled inside. "It took me a long time to realize I just didn't believe you might actually still want this...us."
"I want everything, Brian." Justin said, taking the smaller of the two rings from the box and admiring it's shine. "Are you finally ready to give it?"
And there, in the lobby of the Pittsburgh airport, as some people stared curiously, and others smiled, Brian knew that on his next trip to L.A., there would be Sunshine. Permanently.