[Disclaimer: The part about Bill freaking out at the board meeting really happened. Everything after that is pure crack-induced fantasy, although sometimes I have to wonder about these two.]
Trust Issues
by Dara S.
We fought the law. And hey, we won. Well, sort of. The DOJ is still making noises about sanctions, but they’re not going to split us up, which is the best news we’ve gotten since that prick Jackson got thrown off the case.
But you know, as much of a pain in the ass as all of this antitrust stuff has been, there is one thing I’m grateful for…
***
Rewind to 1995. At this point, the DOJ was just getting started with their witch hunt – uh, sorry, I mean, investigation. But to us, it seemed like the end of the world as we knew it. All of us were ready to snap. And wouldn’t you know it, Bill was the first to go.
It happened at a board meeting. Everybody was there, waiting for the word on what was going on. In walks Bill, and right off I knew something was screwy. He looked like a wreck. I mean, more than usual. His eyes were all red, his hair was sticking up all over the place… he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He stands there, and he looks around the room, and he’s just shaking. I had about fifteen seconds to wonder if I should try to take over the meeting, and then it started.
Man, I’d seen Bill throw some tantrums before, but this was something else. I really thought he was having a serious breakdown. He goes off on this rant about the consent decree, calling Judge Jackson every name in the book, plus a few that he made up right on the spot. It was nasty. And at the end of it all, he slumps into the nearest chair, puts his head on the table and just starts crying.
Well, with a start like that, it was pretty safe to say the meeting was shot to hell. I cleared my throat and stood up. I can’t even remember what I said. But I somehow managed to coax Bill out of the chair and into the hallway.
Once we were out of the room, I closed the door and wrapped my arms around him. Normally, Bill gets a little skeeved out if anybody touches him. But he makes exceptions for beautiful women, and people he trusts. You can figure out which category I fall into.
“This isn’t just some company, some conglomeration of assets and liabilities,” he said, in between sobs. “This is my life. This is everything. And they’re going to take it away.”
“They won’t. It’s going to be okay.” I just held him, stroking his hair as he trembled in my arms.
“Do I deserve this?” he whispered against my shoulder. “Am I that bad? Am I such a horrible person?”
“No. You’re not.” I let my hand rest on the nape of his neck. “You’re brilliant and sexy and I’d do anything in the world if it would make you happy.” Okay, I didn’t say that last part out loud. Because, you know, we’re guys. But I thought it. Just like I’ve been thinking it every day for the last 20 years.
I rubbed his back. God, he was tense. “We’re gonna survive this.” I don’t know if I was trying to convince him, or myself.
He sighed, relaxing a little. “Do you ever think about leaving? Quitting Microsoft?”
“Not without you.” I meant it. I’d rather be by his side on the deck of the Titanic than alone at the top of Mt. Everest. Yeah, I know how gay that sounds. No, I don’t care.
I could feel him smile. “No, I mean both of us. Just go. Start something new. Let the government have this, if they want it so damn bad.”
I thought about it. “Maybe.” My hand settled on the small of his back. “What would we do?”
“I don’t know. Be venture capitalists or something.”
“Maybe we could design the world’s first internet-ready vibrator. I bet that would get us on Janet’s good side.”
“Ewww.” Bill laughed. “I did not need that mental picture.”
“But at least it cheered you up.”
“Yeah.” He looks up. “Thanks.”
Did you ever have one of those moments where you looked into somebody else’s eyes for just a second too long? And there’s this sudden sense of discomfort, and you both look away and change the subject? Well, that didn’t happen this time.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, okay, I wasn‘t thinking. If I had been, I probably never would have done something as insane as what I did next, which was reach up and brush the tears off of Bill’s cheek, and then lean in and kiss him.
God damn, Bill has great lips. Full and sensual and soft to kiss. All of this flashed through my head in the two seconds before my brain woke up and said, hey, what the hell are you doing, you can’t just kiss your best friend, who is a guy by the way, in the hallway at work.
I pulled away, trying to think of a good excuse for what just happened and drawing a total blank. I looked at the wall and just started talking, hoping something halfway sensible would come out of my mouth. “Shit, man, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just–”
“Ballmer.” He stopped me with his hand on the side of my face, turning my head back to look at him. “It’s okay.”
I just blinked. That was so far from what I expected to hear, I thought I must be hallucinating or something. “What?”
“I said, it’s okay.” He licked his lips and smiled nervously. “When you were kissing me, I actually wasn’t thinking about the Justice Department for five seconds. Um… you can do it again, it you want to.”
I wasn’t about to wait for an engraved invitation. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, hard and long and deep. And he kissed me back. There we were, making out like hormone-crazed teenagers at the drive-in, right outside the boardroom. I guess the most miraculous thing about that afternoon was that nobody walked out and caught us. Finally it dawned on me that maybe we should go someplace a little more private.
“Hey,” I whispered in his ear, “do you want to get out of here?”
“What, like, permanently?”
I laughed, and kissed him. “No, you doof. Just for the day.” I looked him in the eye, suddenly feeling more serious. “Or maybe for the night.” I watched his face for a reaction, wondering if he’d get what I was asking.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a knowing half-smile. “Yes.”
Oh, God.
I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
“What about the board meeting?” he asked, as we were hurrying down the hall.
“They’ll get it figured out.” I pushed the button for the elevator. “Unless you want to go back.”
He grinned at me, and shook his head. The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. I hit the ground floor button, and then we were all over each other again.
Somehow we made it out to the parking lot and into my car. I held his hand as I drove. We didn’t talk. We didn’t have to.
We ended up at a Motel 6 by the airport. I checked us in. If the clerk recognized me, she didn’t care. We parked outside our room and went inside. I hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and locked both locks. When I turned around, Bill had kicked his shoes off and stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes. I took off my own shoes and jacket, and settled down beside him.
“Hey,” I said, squeezing his hand, “you still awake?”
He opened his eyes and smiled. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m just kind of wiped out.”
I ran my fingers through his hair and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “If you want to sleep, you can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
He reached up and pulled me down for a real kiss. “I can sleep later.”
That was the last coherent sentence either of us said for a while.
***
As you’ve probably guessed by now, nothing was quite the same after that day. Even when Jackson was throwing the book at us, we still had each other. And we still have each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Bill and I are going back to that Motel 6 for a victory celebration.
-end-
Tags: bill/steve b.
