A/N: Here is the conclusion to "Heart Strings." I want to thank everyone who either read this story and/or reviewed it. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks again.
Six Months Later
"Well, I think that about does it." Brian stood up, shaking the older man's hand. "I'll have my art department create some mock ups of both the print and television advertising campaigns, and have them delivered, say, Monday morning?"
"Sounds great, Brian," the older man said, smiling. "I must say – I'm very impressed with your ideas. Very innovative and outside the box. I was a little skeptical at first that you could carry it off, with your firm having to compete with the big guns here in New York. But you've made a believer out of me. Kennedy and Collins better start looking over their shoulder."
"Oh, I've already outrun them, Clay. They just don't know it yet," he said, winking conspiratorially at his client. As he accompanied the man to his office door to walk him out, he heard the outer lobby door opening, then being slammed, followed by a loud "ow!" and a "shit!" closely following it.
Brian had to bite back a smile. I know that voice. "Justin?"
"Bri-an," an exasperated voice answered. "How many fucking times have I told you NOT to leave your briefcase by the door? If I have to tell you ONE more time….." The blond stopped abruptly as he rounded the corner heading toward the older man's agency office. "Oh, I'm sorry," he replied awkwardly, instantly donning a more business-like tone. "I didn't know you had a client." He whispered to the brunet, "but I am NOT done with you, Mister."
Bestowing his best what did I do look on the blond, he said, "Clay Hart, I'd like you to meet the very-talented artiste-in-residence here, Justin Taylor-Kinney, also known as my klutzy husband," he smirked, receiving an annoyed grimace from the blond in return.
Hart smiled, shaking the outstretched hand. "Of course. I was hoping to meet you. I'm a big admirer of your work, Justin. I've actually got one of your paintings hanging in my office. I managed to wrestle one of them away from your husband when he thought I might be taking my business elsewhere." He turned back to Brian before opening the outer door in farewell. "Well, I'd best get going – I have a plane to catch." Looking over at Justin, he called out, "Nice meeting you." As Justin nodded back slightly in return, Hart couldn't help adding to Brian softly, "Better make up with your hubby. I wouldn't want to have a spitfire like that mad at me for long," he added helpfully.
"Don't worry, Clay," Brian replied, lowering his voice. "He might get mad at me, but the make-up sex is incredible," he added, confidentially.
Hart laughed loudly as he clapped Brian on the back and walked out.
"I heard that, Kinney. And you are SO not getting any tonight!" Justin stomped upstairs to the loft, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process, as he plopped down on the couch, his feet stinging from the painful encounter with his husband's briefcase. What in the world does that man keep in THERE? That fucking briefcase must weigh a ton! Probably a couple bottles of scotch, he thought, smirking.
Brian rolled his eyes. After locking up for the day, he located his now sulking husband upstairs. Justin pretended to ignore him as he sat down beside him. "Hard day at work, honey? Want me to kiss your boo-boos and make them better?" he asked innocently, reaching for the younger man's feet with the intention of giving them a massage.
"Leave my toes alone!" Justin attempted to yank his feet away, but was unsuccessful. Brian knew how much the blond adored having his feet massaged. Turning Justin's body sideways on the couch so his legs were sprawled over his thighs, Brian began to slowly knead the pale, smooth feet, eventually succeeding in receiving a sigh of contentment from his husband.
"You're still not getting any," Justin insisted, less convincing this time, though; his response was followed by a soft sound resembling a whimper as Brian continued to caress both of his feet. "Don't think that's going to change anything," he added, grumbling.
Brian smiled secretly as he looked away. You little shit. You're SO easy…..Deciding that was enough foot massaging for the time being, he decided to up the ante a little more. Catching Justin off guard, he abruptly yanked at the other man's legs, pulling the rest of the blond's body toward him before he had any time to react.
"Oof! Brian!" That was about all he managed to utter before the older man quickly pulled him into his lap. "Stop it! I said you were NOT getting any tonight!" Justin squirmed, arms now making a half-hearted attempt to pull away from his husband as he pushed against the man's chest; in response, the brunet simply wrapped his arms tightly around the blond's waist to keep him from escaping.
"You're going to have to be more convincing than that, Sunshine," Brian whispered huskily as he licked below the blond's ear, turning his head to nuzzle the ear lobe and gently bite it, causing a shiver to escape from the slender body he was holding so firmly. "Cold, dear?" Brian asked in a mock falsetto. "You're shivering." He felt the artist's body tremble again as he licked a path from the man's ear down to his exposed creamy neck.
"You don't play fair, Mr. Kinney," Justin murmured, breathlessly. The hands that had previously been attempting a half-hearted escape now signaled capitulation, as they reached up to circle the older man's neck, fingers affectionately fanning through the soft, brown hair.
"Never. Not when it comes to you, Mr. Taylor-Kinney." Brian felt safe by now releasing the tight rein he held on his lover, reaching his right hand up to grasp the other man's left one. Kissing the ring finger adorned by the simple, platinum band, he was rewarded by a gasp of pleasure as he proceeded to take each of the alabaster fingers in his mouth, sucking on them one by one.
Justin finally had to admit defeat. Who was he kidding? He pulled firmly on the toned neck, bringing his husband's lips crashing down on his, tongues dueling for ownership. He felt more than heard the vibration of Brian's chuckle as their passionate kiss continued for several seconds, finally ending when each had to separate for air.
"All's fair in love and advertising, Sunshine," Brian drawled, as he suddenly stood up, arms this time under the blond's legs, which were now wrapping themselves obediently around the other man's waist. Locking them behind his husband, Justin laughed as Brian carried him eagerly toward the bedroom, stating, "Dr. Brothers always said to never go to bed angry. And to have hot, horny make-up sex like two bunnies fucking until their brains fall out. Why do you think I keep that briefcase by the door, Sunshine?"