Field, Ryan The Way We Almost Were

The Way We Almost Were

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

Ryan Field

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com

Copyright © 2010 by Ryan Field

Ravenous Romance™
100 Cummings Center
Suite 123A
Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without
written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts
in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-322-1

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely
coincidental.

Chapter One

When Acer first started out, he had dreams of becoming the next Walter Cronkite.

He thought he’d be reporting important political events that helped shape the nation and

mold the world. He’d daydreamed in journalism class about meeting presidents, attending

White House dinners, and sitting with heads of state. And he wanted to do it all openly,

as a gay man with nothing to hide.

He never imagined he’d wind up, eight years later, in the back seat of a twenty-

year-old black Lincoln Continental limousine, stripping down to a leopard-print thong in

the middle of Times Square.

Acer wasn’t even his real name. It was one of those pop-culture stage names that

stood alone, without a last name. His real name was Allan Nottingham. And he was

determined to keep both names separate.

It was a warm Friday afternoon in June. The sidewalks of Times Square were

jammed with pedestrians, the street was filled with traffic, and they were waiting for

Allan to get out of the limo and finish the final scene of a new episode of The Naughty

Boiz. The director was the star, the producer, and the creator of the show: Mikey Phoenix.

The Naughty Boiz was a syndicated half-hour television show about idiotic young guys

with too much testosterone doing stupid pranks and trying to pull off lame stunts in

public.

Mikey Phoenix had hired Allan in the first season for small stunts, back when no

one thought a show like this would ever become a hit series on cable TV. Allan had taken

the job because he’d needed fast money. But as the show gained ratings beyond what

anyone ever could have predicted, Allan’s small stunts and pranks became so popular

with viewers he’d practically become the star of the show. People couldn’t wait to see the

next stunt he’d do wearing nothing but a leopard thong.

Allan kicked off his shoes, removed his socks, and pulled down his pants. While

he was pulling his white T-shirt off, there was a knock on the limousine window and

Mikey Phoenix opened the back door. “Are you almost ready, buddy?” Mikey asked.

“After this, we’ll wrap up for the day.”

Allan covered his private parts with the T-shirt. He lowered his eyebrows and said,

“Close the door. I don’t want anyone looking in.” He wasn’t completely nude. He was

wearing the sheer leopard thong he always wore during his ridiculous stunts. “I’ll be

ready in a minute.” Allan didn’t care about Mikey seeing him. He and Mikey were also

best friends, but Allan didn’t want anyone on the street looking into the car.

Mikey rubbed his jaw and laughed. “Don’t get all upset,” he said. “No one can see

inside except me. Besides, the entire world is going to be seeing you like this on

television. What’s the big deal? You’ve got a great ass.” Though Mikey was straight, he

was always talking about Allan’s great ass.

“It’s different,” Allan said. Mikey was a typical straight guy; he never understood

these things. “When I’m doing a scene, I’m working and no one can see my face. I’m in

character. I’m not me anymore.”

He felt as if he’d explained this a thousand times to Mikey. Other than the sheer

leopard thong, Allan always wore a pair of heavy black boots and a black ski mask. The

public never saw his face and they had no idea about his true identity. When he’d taken

the job with Mikey Phoenix four years earlier, he’d thought it would only be temporary,

just something to hold him over until he landed a real job as a journalist. He’d never

dreamed he’d wind up becoming famous and making tons of money for doing stupid

pranks on television in a thong. Allan and Mikey had become instant millionaires, thanks

to The Naughty Boiz and the unique chemistry they shared on film.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Mikey said. Before he closed the door, he looked

inside and said, “Hey, if anyone even tried to get into this car while you were naked, I’d

kick the shit out of them. You know I’m always watching out for you, buddy. I’m always

here to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you.”

Allan looked up and smiled. “Yes, I do know you’re here for me,” he said.

“Thanks.”

What else could he say? He knew Mikey meant well. Mikey was a strong, good-

looking alpha male who looked as if he belonged to a rowdy fraternity, and he felt an

obligation to watch out for his “gay buddy.” Though Allan didn’t need anyone to watch

out for him, Allan didn’t want to hurt his feelings or bruise his inflated ego. After all,

Mikey’s ego was part of his raw charm.

When Mikey shut the door, Allan reached down to put on his black boots. He was

doing a skateboard scene that afternoon with another actor, where he would be skating

through Times Square, down a steep wooden ramp and up another, over a pretzel vendor

with a pet monkey. They were racing; the city had been notified, they had permits, and a

section of the street had already been roped off. If they didn’t make it over the pretzel

vendor’s cart, they would both wind up falling into a vat of yellow mustard. Mikey was

also in this scene, acting as the announcer, to set the scene up for viewers. The pretzel

vendor was a paid actor. (So was the monkey.) Allan had already planned on falling into

the vat of mustard. He’d always been athletic and he was excellent on skateboards. He

didn’t skateboard often anymore, even though he knew how to ride a skateboard well

enough to do the jump without falling into the mustard. But that wouldn’t have been

funny.

In the past four years, Allan had made an art out of looking like an absolute fool.

He’d been paid well to do it. He’d wrestled alligators, teased sharks, and ridden elephant

trunks. Even though Mikey was a straight guy, and the viewing audience was geared

toward a straight audience, The Naughty Boiz produced strong homoerotic stunts that

people seemed to love—and never mention. The episode where he’d wrestled in mud

with another actor, wearing nothing but his leopard thong, had been one of the highest-

rated shows they’d ever done. And once, Mikey fastened water balloons to Allan and

another good-looking actor. Then he made them bump into each other until all the

balloons had popped and their almost naked bodies were saturated with water. The entire

public, gay and straight viewers alike, seemed to love watching good-looking guys play

gay chicken, and they couldn’t wait to see how far Mikey Phoenix would take them.

When the black boots were tied, Allan pulled the black ski mask over his head

and stepped out of the limo. A few people walking down the street recognized Acer.

They stared at his naked body; one young guy carrying a small poodle almost tripped on

the sidewalk. Two middle-aged women murmured something to each other and leered at

his legs. Allan’s body was thin, with long, lean muscles and rugged ridges of bone. The

lines where muscle connected to bone were well defined, because he didn’t have an

ounce of fat. He was naturally smooth, and he shaved off the small amount of body hair

he had on his legs and crotch. He filled the leopard thong with a floppy penis, and, as

Mikey always said, his solid round buttocks resembled two “smooth perfect melons.”

Many of the men and women who sent fan mail to the show didn’t comment on the

stunts—they commented on Allan’s great ass.

Allan crossed to the front of the limo where the crew and the other actors were

waiting for him. As long as the ski mask was over his face, he didn’t feel self-conscious.

He adjusted the sliver rings in his nipples fast. He’d had his nipples pierced a month

earlier and they had become highly sensitive. If he didn’t adjust them, he started to get an

erection. Getting pierced hadn’t been his idea. Mikey had wanted him to get a few tattoos

because he thought it would make him look wild and kinky. But Allan had rejected the

tattoo idea. He didn’t want anything as permanent as a tattoo attached to his body. So

when Mikey suggested he get his nipples pierced instead, he reluctantly agreed. If he got

tired of having pierced nipples, he could always remove the silver rings and the holes

would eventually close up.

The other actor doing the stunt with Allan was a semi-regular on the show. He

was an average-looking straight-guy type, with a blank expression and a hairy chest. He

had a solid, stocky body and fuzzy legs. He looked like a weekend baseball player from

the suburbs that’d had too many beers and pizzas since high school, and today he was

wearing pale blue boxer shorts. Mikey knew what he was doing, and hiring this average-

looking actor had not been an accident. Whenever Mikey put smooth, slim Allan in a

stunt scene with a stocky, hairy guy, the audience sent tons of fan mail begging for more.

When Allan reached the crew, he saw a large machine with a long black hose next

to the pretzel vendor’s cart. He stared at it and said, “What’s this?”

“It’s just a prop,” Mikey said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then Mikey handed them both skateboards and said, “We should be able to get

this in one take. You guys know what to do.”

The stocky, beefy actor smiled and punched Allan in the arm. “You ready, dude?”

Allan nodded and said, “Here we go.” He’d worked with this actor in the past. He

looked straight, but he was really gay. Allan knew he could depend on him for support.

When he was doing stunts like this, trusting the other actor was important.

Mikey grabbed the stocky actor’s arm and said, “Just make sure you fall into the

vat of mustard first, then let Acer fall on top of you. When he falls on you, make sure you

grab his ass a few times. Do it on purpose, feel him up a little, but make it look like an

accident. And make it look like you’re a straight dude totally freaked out because you just

grabbed another dude’s bare ass.”

The actor nodded yes and followed Allan to the end of the block.

It took a while to get everything set up just right. Allan stretched and prepared for

the scene as if he were about to enter a boxing rink. A crowd had formed in the street by

then. Allan concentrated only on the stunt he was about to perform. If they didn’t get this

perfect on the first take, they’d have to clean up and start all over again.

When Mikey stood on his mark and shouted, “Action,” Allan became Acer. He

bobbed up and down for a few minutes, joking around with the other actor, acting as if

he’d just returned from a drunken frat house party. His goal was too look as stupid as

possible, and to show he was willing to do any prank they dared him to do.

Mikey began to explain the scene with his deep announcer’s voice. Acer and the

actor mounted the skateboards, went to the top of one ramp, then raced downward toward

the other wooden ramp in front of the pretzel vendor and the monkey. They remained at a

controlled equal distance until the last minute, then Acer slowed down on purpose. When

they reached the pretzel cart, the vendor jumped back and the poor monkey wrapped his

arms around the vendor’s neck and screamed. Acer ducked and spread his arms out to

maintain his balance. The stocky guy gained a five-foot lead on Acer, made the leap first,

and fell into the middle of the vat of mustard.

A second later, with a large group of people watching everything from the street,

Acer was soaring over the pretzel cart and into the vat of mustard. The stocky actor was

covered with yellow goop from head to toe. When Acer landed next to him, he wrapped

his arms around the guy’s shoulders and his legs around the guy’s waist. The camera

followed them; they got a good shot of the stocky guy placing his hand on Acer’s ass. It

looked accidental and innocent.

The actor shouted, “Dude, I just grabbed your butt. Get the fuck off me.” Then he

pushed Acer back into the mustard and laughed. The people on the street watching the

scene laughed even harder. Then Acer and the actor pretended they couldn’t get their

balance in the vat of mustard and continued groping each other by accident. Allan fell

and pressed his check against the actor’s penis; the actor bucked his hips on purpose and

laughed about it. Allan knew this would be one of the bawdier scenes they’d done.

When the scene was almost over, a couple of assistants ran to the mustard vat and

helped Acer and the actor climb out. When they were on the sidewalk, covered in yellow

mustard from head to toe, Mikey ran over and shouted, “Okay, guys, hose them down

now.”

Acer widened his eyes. He looked at the other actor and shrugged his shoulders.

As far as he’d been told, the scene should have been over after they’d fallen into the vat

of mustard. Acer looked back at Mikey and tipped his head to the side.

Acer shouted, “What’s up?”

Mikey smiled and said, “Surprise,” then shouted, “Hose them down now, dude.”

The machine next to the pretzel vendor’s cart was a power washer. The pretzel

vendor grabbed the hose and switched it on. Then he pointed it at Acer and the actor and

started spraying them. The monkey on his shoulder pointed and screamed. The people on

the street held their stomachs and roared. The hose was far enough away from Acer and

the actor to cause any damage to them, but it was still strong enough to push Acer into

the arms of the other actor. Acer didn’t have time to think. He reached down and covered

his crotch with his hands while the other actor held him in place. If he hadn’t held his

crotch, the power washer would have knocked his dick out of the thong. It looked like he

was bending over and the other actor was trying to mount him. The hose went up and

down, washing all the mustard off their bodies. The black ski mask became so

waterlogged Acer had trouble breathing.

By the time Mikey finally shouted, “Cut,” and wrapped up the scene, Acer’s sheer

leopard thong was so drenched the outline of his dick was visible. He knew they’d block

this out in editing with a fuzzy spot; the censors didn’t like wet thongs on men with big

bulges. But he kept his hands over his crotch until someone finally brought him a large

dry towel.

Allan wrapped the large towel around his wet body and frowned at the monkey,

who was still screaming and pointing. He’d just made thousands of dollars by falling into

a large vat of mustard and being hosed down with a power washer in Times Square in

broad daylight. But he wasn’t happy about it. He knew it was all harmless and there was

nothing politically incorrect about the show. They weren’t making gay jokes and they

weren’t making any serious social statements. If anything, they were calling attention to

the age-old taboo of men, in general, being openly affectionate with each other in public.

But in the same respect, Allan he knew this wasn’t going to get him any invitations to

those White House dream dinners.

Allan left the other actor and walked over to Mikey and said, “You didn’t mention

the power washer, buddy.”

Mikey shrugged his shoulders and said, “I wanted it to be spontaneous. I didn’t

want it to look rehearsed.” Then he pointed to the crowd on the sidelines. They were still

laughing about what they’d just seen. “And it worked. This was one of your best scenes

ever. Look at them laugh.”

Mikey had done this before. When they least expected it, he’d surprise the actors

with something that hadn’t been planned. Allan wanted to strangle him right there on the

sidewalk, but when he saw how excited the people on the sidelines were, he shook his

head and said, “I’ll get you back for this one.” Then he smiled and crossed back to the

limousine. Mikey couldn’t see his smile because he was still wearing the black ski mask.

Mikey followed him. “You’re not mad, are you?” he asked. “You know I’d never

do anything that wasn’t right for you. Besides, you looked like you had fun. Did you get

excited when the actor rubbed his dick in your face?”

“No,” Allan said, “I didn’t get excited.” When he was working, sex was the last

thing on his mind. Only Mikey thought Allan’s every waking moment was spent thinking

about dick.

“Are you mad?” Mikey asked.

He wasn’t mad. Mikey had been right not to tell him about the power washer. If

Allan and the other actor had known, it would have looked rehearsed. At least he wasn’t

covered in mustard anymore. He’d been worried about that all morning. But he wanted to

make Mikey sweat for a while. So he opened the limousine door and said, “We’ll talk

about it later, buddy.”

Chapter Two

The minute Allan got home he jumped into the shower. It took three shampoos to

get the sticky mustard residue out of his short ash-blond hair, and he had to use a small

brush to scrape more mustard from beneath his fingernails. He was going out to dinner

that night with Mikey as Allan, not Acer. Acer was never seen out in public unless he

was doing a promotional event for the show. When Mikey and Allan went out together in

public and people recognized Mikey from the TV show, Mikey always kept Allan’s

secret. He introduced him as Allan Nottingham, a good friend who worked in journalism.

It wasn’t a total lie. In his spare time, Allan had been writing a running series of political

blog posts for over two years. He did it for free, and to get writing credits.

After the shower, Allan took a short nap. When he woke up, he took another fast

shower—he still smelled yellow mustard everywhere—and got dressed for dinner. He put

on a pair of stucco-colored chinos, a white V-neck pullover, and a black blazer. His shoes

were black Prada quarter boots. It was warm outside; the blazer was lightweight material

and the chinos were even lighter. When he wasn’t working as Acer, Allan wanted to look

conservative and professional at all times.

When he went downstairs to the lobby of his apartment building, the doorman

smiled and nodded to the sidewalk. Mikey was already there in the back seat of the old

black limo. Mikey could have afforded a new limo, but he liked the funky-looking old

one better. And he was superstitious about it. The old limo had become a mascot for the

TV show, and Mikey didn’t want to break his chain of good luck.

The back door opened with a squeak, and Mikey shouted, “Where the hell have

you been? It’s almost nine and I had an eight thirty reservation.” He motioned with his

arm. “C’mon. Get in. You’re always late for everything.”

Allan raised his eyebrows. “Calm down. They’ll get us a table.” He cleared his

throat and covered his lips with his palm to hide a smile. He knew Mikey hated being late,

so he’d been deliberately late to get even with Mikey for not mentioning the power

washer.

“I’m starved. I haven’t eaten all day,” Mikey said. “I could eat a fucking horse.”

Mikey was wearing a short white jacket, a silky black shirt open to his navel, and

worn, faded jeans with holes in the knees (he loved bragging about the fact that he’d paid

over three hundred dollars for a pair of jeans with holes in the knees). There were three

thick gold chains around his neck, and one had a large gold medallion. Mikey had dark

wavy hair, a lean compact body, and strong square facial features. His hair was always

slightly mussed and he had a patch of dark hair beneath his bottom lip. Before he’d

created The Naughty Boiz, he’d been a low-end male model for a line of surfer shorts.

Mikey didn’t care about being conservative; he looked people in the eye, squared his

shoulders, and told them who he was without making any apologies. He had tons of

money and overnight success, and he wanted everyone to know it.

While they drove to the restaurant in Chelsea, they discussed work. Mikey talked

about how well the stunt scene had gone earlier that day, and Allan said he was still mad

about the power washer incident. But he didn’t stay mad long. When Mikey promised

he’d make it up to him and that he’d never do anything like that again, Allan sat back and

smiled. Though Mikey was straight and Allan was gay, they had an even, comfortable

friendship that rarely required a lot of work. When something stressful happened, Mikey

clenched his fists and punched a wall. Allan was always there to calm him down and

reassure him. And when Allan was worried about something, Mikey was always there to

offer him strength and support. They were complete opposites, and the balance couldn’t

have been more perfect. There were even times when Mikey sighed and said to Allan, “I

wish you were a woman. My life would be so much easier if you were.”

Allan would laugh and reply, “It doesn’t work that way. And thank God I’m not.

You’d make my life living hell with the way you’re always fooling around with bimbos.

I’d be chasing your cheating ass down the street with a baseball bat.” He thought Mikey’s

personal life was amusing. Mikey was twenty-nine years old and he’d never had a serious

monogamous relationship with a woman. He had a constant erection in his pants and a

different woman each night of the week. But none of them ever stuck around longer than

a month.

When they reached the restaurant and got out of the limo, Mikey held the door for

Allan and followed him inside. He also ordered Allan’s drink and his dinner without

giving it a second thought. Whenever they went out together as friends, it was like this.

Allan just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, knowing that Mikey couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t that Allan was weak or submissive. If anything, he had a few control issues. But

he would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t like the way Mikey opened doors or

carried heavy bags for him. He didn’t need protection or help, but it was nice to know

that Mikey was always willing to do these things. Even though there had never been any

sex between them, having a strong, aggressive guy like Mikey around to treat him well

made him smile. And in return, Allan often stroked Mikey’s gigantic male ego and made

him feel even stronger by pretending to be the weaker one.

After dinner, Mikey took care of the check and they stood up to get a few drinks

in the bar section of the restaurant. It was one of those large converted warehouses, with

brick walls and miles of concrete. It was dark enough for Mikey to remain anonymous

and cruise for women. The crowd wasn’t gay or straight; it was mixed. But when Mikey

instinctively placed his palm on Allan’s back and pushed him forward, Allan smiled and

said, “There are two gay guys staring at us at that table near the bar. I think they

recognize you. They are going to think we’re gay for each other if you leave your hand

on my back like that. You’d better remove it.”

Mikey put his arm all the way around Allan and kissed him on the cheek. He said,

“Fuck ’em. I don’t give a damn what they think. We know who we are and we don’t have

to prove anything to anyone.” Then he reached down and placed his hand on Allan’s ass

on purpose.

Allan smiled. “Let’s reverse things for a change.”

“Huh?” Mikey was a genius when it came to his TV show. But he wasn’t the

brightest bulb when it came to personal matters.

Allan laughed and said, “Let me put my hand on your ass and lead you through

the restaurant like you always do with me. Let them all think you’re my bitch for a

change.” He was only playing around, but he wanted to see Mikey’s reaction. And he

knew that macho Mikey would never agree to do anything like this in public or in private.

Mikey rubbed his jaw and frowned. “That wouldn’t be believable,” he said, with a

serious expression. “They would laugh in our faces. And I know how much you like it

when everyone thinks that you’re my bitch.”

Allan’s body jerked; he stopped walking and said, “Ah well, that’s because I’m so

gay for you I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t sleep at night.”

Mikey squeezed his ass harder in front of everyone. “You know you are, bitch,”

he said, acknowledging Allan’s sarcasm. Then he lifted his hand, placed it on the small of

Allan’s back, and pushed him forward again.

As they crossed to the bar, Allan just shook his head and laughed. There weren’t

many straight guys as secure as Mikey who would joke around this way. He also knew

that Mikey liked to think Allan was madly in love with him. But he wasn’t. Allan loved

him, but he wasn’t in love with him.

When they reached the bar, Mikey lifted his long arm over Allan’s head and

shouted his drink order to the bartender. His voice was deep and hollow; it sounded like

he was either shouting football plays or screaming insults to the bartender. But the

bartender, a straight guy, nodded as if Mikey’s rude tone was perfectly normal. Allan put

his hands in his pockets and sighed, because he’d never understand the way straight guys

treated each other. If he’d been the bartender and Mikey had shouted at him that way, he

would have thrown a glass at him.

Allan turned and smiled at a beautiful woman sitting on a bar stool next to where

they were standing. She smiled back and looked up at Mikey. When Mikey looked down

and saw the woman staring at him, he pushed Allan to the side and introduced himself to

her.

Allan rolled his eyes and frowned. Mikey was horny and he was moving in for the

kill. Allan stepped to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way. This woman was Mikey’s

type. She was perfect; she wouldn’t stay around long. She had brassy blond hair, too

much makeup, and huge breasts. Mikey’s left leg was already jerking back and forth; he

probably already had an erection in his pants.

When the bartender placed the drinks in front of Mikey, Mikey handed him a

hundred-dollar bill, face up so the woman would see it clearly, and said, “Keep the

change, buddy.” Then he turned his back to Allan and started talking to the woman as if

she was the only person in the room.

Allan rolled his eyes again, but he wasn’t mad. Mikey liked impressing women

with his money and he knew how to make them think they were special. Allan and Mikey

had an agreement that if either one of them met someone while they were together, the

other one would back off and disappear.

So Allan reached between Mikey and the woman and said, “I don’t want to

interrupt. I just want to get my drink.”

“Sure, buddy,” Mikey said, lifting a martini glass from the bar. “Here you go.”

His voice was deeper than usual, with an overly masculine edge he only used when he

met new women he wanted to sleep with.

Allan felt like gagging, but he forced a wide smile. Then he lifted his arm,

dangled a limp wrist, and said, “Thanks, you’re so lovely, buddy.” His voice was soft and

wispy.

Mikey raised an eyebrow and gave Allan a look. So Allan took his drink and

turned his back on them.

But when he turned and lifted the martini to his lips, his entire body froze. He

blinked a few times and stared straight ahead. His heart started to beat faster and his

mouth felt like cotton. He took a large sip of martini and blinked again. At the end of the

bar, sitting on a stool was Jacob Steinman.

Jacob was sitting on the stool with his eyes half-closed, unaware of anything or

anyone around him. Evidently, he’d had too much to drink that night. He looked as if he

were about to fall sleep sitting up on the barstool.

Allan hadn’t seen him in years. They’d both been journalism majors in college

and they’d shared some of the same goals and dreams. The only difference was that Jacob

had always been more superficial and interested in making fast money, and Allan had

always been more interested in fighting for causes he thought would make the world a

better place. The last Allan had heard, Jacob was now writing a column for National

News Magazine.

Allan took another sip, a deep breath, and finished the martini in one gulp. He put

the glass down on the bar and slowly crossed to where Jacob was sitting. He stood there

for a moment, staring at Jacob’s soft brown hair and his perfect little nose. His smooth

lips were still just right: not too thick and not too thin. He noticed Jacob’s body had filled

out in all the right places since college. His chest was broader, his arms were wider, and

his legs looked stronger. But his face didn’t look as if it had aged at all. He was wearing a

dark gray jacket, a white dress shirt, and dark jeans. His legs were spread wide and his

feet were on the footrest of the barstool. When Allan looked between Jacob’s legs, he

saw a large, puffy bulge. Allan took a quick breath and exhaled, then leaned forward and

gently rested his palm on Jacob’s bicep. He squeezed it a few times and smiled, firming

his knees so his legs wouldn’t wobble.

When Jacob opened his blue eyes and saw Allan standing there, he lifted his

eyebrows, smiled, then closed his eyes again. It was the same wide smile, with two deep

dimples on both cheeks, that had always made Allan’s heard beat faster. Back in college,

when Jacob had smiled at him for the first time, Allan hadn’t been able to concentrate on

anything but his own breathing.

END EXCERPT

Chapter Three

Back when Allan was in college, he worked hard not to look too gay. Not because

he was ashamed of who he was. Even though he was still a virgin when he was a senior,

he’d accepted his sexuality and he’d come to terms with who he was as a gay man. He

just didn’t want to promote labels and stereotypes, with a limp wrist and plucked

eyebrows. He didn’t judge other gay men for not caring about labels and stereotypes. But

his goal was to become a respected left-wing journalist, reporting serious political issues,

not a fasionista or, God forbid, a Hollywood reporter on one of those Entertainment

Networks that were always bashing gay people.

He figured it was safe to look staid and blank. His pants were either basic, loose-

fitting jeans or khaki chinos, his crewneck sweaters were beige and brown and black, and

his shoes were either sneakers or brown oxfords. He parted his sandy straight hair on the

side and wore thin wire-framed reading glasses with round lenses. When he walked

through the campus, he didn’t flit and flitter on his tiptoes. He strolled with purpose, with

heavy steps, just like the straight guys. He even wore baseball caps and sweatshirts with

the names of sports teams he knew nothing about. When he was in a bar, he ordered a

bottle of beer instead of a martini. From a distance, no one would ever have guessed he

was gay.

But up close, no matter how hard he tried to look straight, he knew there was

something about him that made people wonder. Sometimes he thought his nose was too

big (it wasn’t; there was only a slight bump, but he was painfully self-conscious about it).

Maybe it was his voice: it was smooth and gentle, even when he was passionate about

something. Or maybe it was his pale blue eyes: they were shaped like almonds, with long

blond lashes, and his gaze had a sharp, penetrating edge. And sometimes he knew he was

too quick to reply to comments he didn’t appreciate, with witty, razor-slick answers that

often left people staring back at him with wide eyes and open mouths.

So he learned how to put up walls and to create thick invisible barriers to keep

anyone from getting to know him too well. He spent most of his time studying and

preparing for classes. He had many acquaintances, but no real friends. He didn’t date, go

to parties, or socialize with anyone in depth. When he wasn’t studying or working in his

part-time job at a small, off-campus coffeehouse, he was working on political stories for

the campus radio station. The radio station was his only outside activity, and he used it as

a platform to promote his own political agenda and his future career as a journalist.

After one particularly opinionated radio show he did on the early Bush

administration, he went to the school gymnasium and changed into his running clothes. It

was early evening in late November, and he hadn’t been sleeping well that week.

Running long distances eased his sexual frustrations—he wasn’t getting any—and

calmed his political passions. It wasn’t a team sport and he didn’t need anyone else to

participate.

On that afternoon, the football team was just coming back from a late-afternoon

practice. When he heard their deep voices and loud footsteps coming toward the locker

room, his heart started beating faster and his breathing increased. He’d just removed all

his street clothes and he was about to put on his running things. He was stark naked,

holding a jockstrap in his right hand and a pair of white socks in his left. He’d thought he

would have enough time to change before the football players came back from practice.

He’d been avoiding situations like this all his life, where he was placed in the middle of a

group of straight guys with whom he did not know how to communicate.

The guys pounded into the locker room, pushing and shoving each other while

they joked about something that had just happened during football practice. Allan’s

locker was at the far end of the locker room, near a quiet corner. He turned his back to

them fast and reached to the top shelf for his running shoes, hoping they wouldn’t notice

him. He didn’t want to fumble and appear startled. Their voices were deep and rough; he

took a fast breath and bent over to place his running shoes on the locker room bench.

When he slowly stretched out his jockstrap and lifted his right leg to put it on, he

felt a strong, solid hand on his right shoulder. He stopped moving, but he didn’t turn

around. He looked up at the locker room ceiling and rolled his eyes.

A deep voice shouted, “Look what we have here. It’s our own local radio star,

Nottingham Out.” Then the deep voice laughed and someone slapped Allan’s naked ass

so hard the crack echoed through the locker room. “Are you going to come out for us this

afternoon, Nottingham?” They were implying that because he didn’t play football, didn’t

spit on sidewalks, and didn’t talk about pussy all the time, he was gay.

Allan clenched his fists and stood up straight. His soft ass was stinging from the

hard slap and his heart was ready to jump from his chest. He knew the guy was making

fun of his radio show sign off. When Allan finished each radio show, he always said,

“Nottingham Out.” He’d overheard other people on campus making fun of his signoff. He

even thought it was a lame signoff. But he refused to change it on principle. He thought

that most of the campus, especially the jocks, were vapid, uninformed political idiots, and

he refused to conform to college peer pressure, hate, and fear. He also knew the guy was

referring to him “coming out” just to goad him. No one knew Allan was gay. They could

only suspect it.

But that didn’t stop another football player from grabbing Allan’s naked ass and

shouting, “I think we should see if he knows how to swim. Let’s cover the shower drains,

fill the shower room, and make him swim on the floor.”

Allan turned and leaned back into the locker. He gave the guy who had just

grabbed his ass a look and said, “Why don’t you fucking morons just go back to your

caves and leave me the fuck alone?” He figured he might as well fight back. They were

going to humiliate him no matter what he did. At least he’d go down with a struggle.

By that time, a group of football players had formed a half circle around him. A

guy in the background shouted, “Ah, I think he’s upset now. We hurt his feelings.” Then

he sniffed back and wiped fake tears from his small, dark eyes.

The football player who had grabbed his ass poked two guys with his elbows and

said, “You guys grab his arms and I’ll grab his legs, then we’ll carry him into the showers

and see if he knows how to swim. He’s so smart he knows how to do everything else, so

this shouldn’t be a problem.”

Allan’s back was to the wall; there was nowhere to run. Even if he could run, he

was stark naked.

When two big hulking guys crossed toward him and reached for his arms, he

struggled and shouted, “Get your fucking hands off me, you fucking dumb-jock morons.”

His voice was deep and powerful; he glared at them with furrowed eyebrows and bulging

eyes.

They grabbed his arms with their large hands and held him. They laughed and

made jokes about his smooth, hairless ass and his long blond eyelashes. The guy who was

holding his right arm laughed and grabbed his own crotch. He shook his dick, rubbed his

crotch against Allan’s naked thigh, and shouted, “Bet you’d like to get some of this.”

Then the other guy bent down and grabbed his legs. Allan tried to break free, but they

were so strong, and they held him with such muscle, he could barely even move his arms

or legs.

The guy grabbed Allan’s ankles, lifted him into the air, and shouted, “When we

get him into the showers, I’ll pin him down while you guys turn on the water so he can

splash around naked.”

Allan was about to shout again, but someone at the end of the locker room said,

“What the fuck? What are you fucking assholes doing?”

The football players became silent; the three guys holding Allan stopped moving.

They all turned around and faced a tall guy with dark brown hair. Allan had seen this guy

around campus. His named was Jacob Steinman. He was the star football player, and the

most popular guy on campus. Women swooned for him; men stepped to the side when he

walked past them. Jacob was also in a few of Allan’s journalism classes, but Allan had

always avoided him. Allan had always thought that handsome Jacob Steinman was stupid

because he rarely ever got involved in class discussions. Until that afternoon, Allan had

considered Jacob, from a distance, nothing more than a vapid, below-average, college

football jock, with too much testosterone and not enough brain power.

Jacob looked into Allan’s blue eyes for a moment and winked. He was wearing a

football uniform and he was holding a football helmet in his right hand. He spread his

arms out wide and shrugged his shoulders. “What the fuck is going on?”

The guy holding Allan’s legs laughed and said, “We’re taking Barbara Walters

here for a little swim in the showers.”

Allan looked at the guy holding his legs and rolled his eyes. He knew his

nickname around campus was Barbara Walters, because he was always interviewing

intense political people on his radio shows. The idiots didn’t even have the wit to come

up with something cleverer than Barbara Walters, a journalist who spent most of her time

interviewing celebrities.

“Put me the fuck down, you dumb fucking Neanderthal,” Allan shouted.

The guy twisted Allan’s leg and laughed. “Not until you swim for us, Babs.” Then

he lifted Allan higher so everyone could see his ass.

A couple of guys whistled at his ass; a few hooted. But Jacob Steinman threw the

helmet across the locker room and roared, “Put him the fuck down now!”

The guy holding Allan’s legs tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow.

Evidently, he’d been expecting Jacob to join in the fun. “And who the fuck are you to tell

us what to do? We’re just fooling around, man. We’re not really going to hurt the little

fucker.”

“I’m the one who is going to kick the shit out of you if you don’t put him down

now,” Jacob said. “And you don’t want to fuck with me.” Then he walked over to where

they were standing, squared his shoulders, and looked directly into the eyes of the guy

who was holding Allan’s ankles.

There was a moment of silence as the guys holding Allan hesitated. Everyone else

stepped back. The guy holding Allan’s ankles looked into Jacob’s eyes.

Jacob whispered, “I don’t want any trouble, buddy. But if you don’t put him

down and leave him alone, I’m going to fuck you up. And you know I’ll do

it…seriously.”

The guy bit his bottom lip and took a quick breath, then lowered Allan’s legs to

the floor. The pair holding his arms let go and stepped away. Allan could see they hated

backing down to Jacob; their male egos had been damaged in public. But they also knew

that Jacob had a reputation around campus. When Jacob had been a freshman, three guys

had picked on him once and he’d beat them all into bloody pulps. Jacob had almost been

expelled from school in his freshman year for doing this, but he’d managed to get a

serious reprimand instead, based on the fact that he was acting in self-defense. After that

incident, Jacob Steinman never committed an act of violence again. But he became

labeled as the guy who had once taken on three huge guys all at once. He’d become a

campus legend without even trying to do it. And no one, not even the biggest, strongest

football player in the school was willing to confront Jacob.

The three guys left Allan alone and crossed to the other end of the locker room

without saying a word. As they were leaving, Jacob shouted, “If you try to fuck around

like this with him again, or with anyone else, I’ll fuck around with you.”

The three guys who had been holding Allan stopped moving. The one who had

been holding Allan’s legs turned around and smiled. His lifted his arms in surrender and

said, “It’s all good, man. We’re cool. Let’s just forget all about it.” Then they stood still

for a moment, waiting for Jacob to respond. But he just rubbed his jaw and nodded at

them, and they turned their backs and shuffled to the other side of the locker room.

When they were gone, Jacob smiled at Allan and asked, “Are you okay?”

Allan looked down to his feet and shrugged his shoulders. He was still standing

there naked. He felt like an idiot who couldn’t take care of himself. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Thanks.” Then he reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

“They won’t bother you again,” Jacob said. “And they don’t mean any harm.

They’re just guys fooling around a little, is all. They’re idiots.” Then he punched Allan in

the arm, smiled, and went back to the other end of the locker room so he could change his

clothes with the other guys.

Chapter Four

A week after the incident in the locker room, Allan turned in a short story for his

creative writing class. A week after that, he went to class, hoping and praying he’d

receive an A for all his hard work. But more than that, the professor had promised he’d

read the best short story aloud to the entire class. Allan wasn’t a fiction writer, and he had

no desire to become one, but he’d created a character in his short story based on his own

passionate political beliefs. He’d even written the story in the first person, not caring if

anyone thought it resembled his own life as thinly veiled fiction. He was absolutely

certain his short story would be the best and that the professor would read it in class.

It was a cold December morning, just a few weeks before Christmas. Allan ran to

class and sat in his usual seat, the second from the left in the front row. He was a few

minutes late because he’d been arguing with someone about the situation in the Middle

East. A girl in the second row gave him a nasty look, and he raised an eyebrow in self-

defense and grimaced at her. He noticed Jacob Steinman was sitting in the back row,

probably daydreaming about one of his perfect little cheerleaders. The professor shuffled

through his notes and organized his papers. Allan leaned forward on his elbows, biting

his fist, trying to see if his short story was on the professor’s desk. But he was too far

away to see anything in detail.

When the professor finally looked up, he stood from his desk and crossed to a

podium. He placed sheets of paper on the podium and smiled at the class. Allan bit his

fist harder and started shaking his right leg.

The professor adjusted his reading glasses and said, “First, I want to say that all

the papers this time were better than average. I was pleasantly surprised. But a few were

better than others, and one in particular really stood out in my mind. The characters

remain with me right now, and I believe they always will.”

Allan sat back and took a deep breath. He folded his hands on top of the desk and

smiled. He knew the best story had to be his. He’d worked on his story nonstop, missing

meals and losing sleep for a week.

But when the professor lowered his eyes and read, “Capturing the Human Spirit,

by Jacob Steinman,” Allan widened his eyes, and his head jerked. Allan wondered how

on Earth Jacob Steinman, the school jock, and campus idiot, could have written the best

story in the class. The guy didn’t even speak with proper grammar. Allan had overheard

Jacob speaking to other people. He used the word “myself,” in all the wrong places. And

he always dropped his g’s when he spoke.

Allan slumped down in his seat and leered at the dimwitted professor. He shook

his head and frowned, wondering why he’d even bothered to work so long on his story.

As the professor started reading Jacob’s story, he folded his arms across his chest and

held back a yawn.

However, when the professor read the first two lines—“When they pinned him to

a chain link fence, naked and vulnerable and outnumbered, and I saw the way his soft

blue eyes bulged with raw fear, I clenched my fists and approached them. Until that

moment, hate had never affected my own perfect world in such a personal, profound

way”—the entire class went silent.

Allan clasped his hands together and tightened his lips. This was good. Allan

didn’t know Jacob knew how to spell, let alone write a halfway decent sentence. He

didn’t think Jacob had any layers under the handsome face and perfect body he’d been

lucky enough to have inherited from birth.

As the professor continued to read, Allan recognized the storyline. It was loosely

based on the time Jacob had saved him from the football players in the locker room. But

it was only based on that general incident and didn’t go into detail about what had

happened to Allan. It went much deeper than that, with articulate, well-developed

characters, a simple narrative, and a theme that revolved around hate and the kind of

shallow people who promote hate.

Allan pressed his palm to his throat and slowly turned his head. He knew Jacob

was sitting in the back row, where he usually sat, and Allan wanted to see the expression

on Jacob’s face. He didn’t turn all the way around; he was too self-conscious to look

Jacob in the eye. But when he turned enough to see Jacob’s face through the corner of his

eye, Jacob was slouched down in his seat, with the side of his hand pressed to his

forehead as if shielding the sun from his eyes.

By the time the professor was finished reading the short story, Allan was staring

straight ahead. He wondered how a straight guy like Jacob Steinman could have found

the depth of emotion to write about gay hate crimes with such an endearing, honest voice,

then he wondered why a guy like Jacob would even bother. Allan had to admit that

Jacob’s story had been far better than the story he’d submitted to the professor. When the

class was over, Allan walked to the first trash can outside the building and tossed his

short story inside, tearing it to shreds one page at a time.

On his way to work that afternoon, Allan passed the football field and saw Jacob

running to catch a pass. Jacob’s body moved effortlessly; he threw his arms up to catch

the football as if moving in slow motion. Allan stopped to watch. He bit his bottom lip

and leaned into a chain link fence. When Jacob caught the ball, he leaped into the air for a

second, then landed on the grass without as much as an awkward jerk. The tight football

pants hugged Jacob’s rugged legs. They bunched up around his crotch and created a

bulge. For a moment, Allan imagined what Jacob might look like naked. He was glad

he’d worn a long overcoat that day, because when he pictured Jacob’s dick falling out of

his football pants, his own dick turned into a full erection.

On his way home from work that night, Allan took a shortcut through the park. It

was a large, wooded park on the edge of town, not far from the college campus. He’d

been jogging there since he was a freshman and he knew every twist and turn of every

single trail. Normally, he would not have walked around the park that late at night. It was

dark and it was a known cruise spot for older gay men. Allan had heard they came from

miles away just to see if any horny young college guys would be out cruising the park to

get fast, anonymous blow jobs. The older guys were called trolls, and from what Allan

had heard and read on the Internet, the old trolls could be extremely aggressive when they

were on the hunt for young college-guy dick.

Allan didn’t judge the older guys or the college guys who liked getting off this

way in a dark, secluded public park. But he had never been with a man, and he didn’t

want his first experience to be with a troll, in the bushes of a public place where anything

could happen to him. Even the safest sex wasn’t safe there.

So when he entered the park, he pulled up his collar, shoved his hands into his

coat pockets, and walked faster. He’d read that if you didn’t make eye contact with trolls,

they left you alone. He remained on the main path, lined with park benches, which led

directly to the college campus. But when he reached the middle of the park, he saw

someone sitting on one of the park benches. He couldn’t see details, just the figure of a

man. It was below twenty degrees outside that night. the park was empty, and the only

light came from a half moon. The person sitting on the bench was bundled up in a heavy

black ski jacket. His head was low and the collar of the ski jacket practically covered his

face. Allan took a deep breath and crossed to the other side of the path. He shoved his

hands deeper in his pockets and stared down at his shoes while he walked.

When he crossed by the person on the bench, a deep voice said, “How come you

never smile?”

Allan’s eyes opened wide. He stopped walking and turned his head. The man on

the bench was Jacob Steinman. But he would have known without turning around. He’d

have recognized his voice anywhere.

“And you’re always in a hurry,” Jacob said. “I see you running around campus all

the time, never stopping to smile or say hello to anyone. You walked right by me this

afternoon, and before I even had a chance to say hello, you were gone.”

Allan’s head fell back. He remembered this well. He’d been going from one

building to the other on his way to an elective art class, and he’d passed Jacob on the

promenade. But he hadn’t snubbed him on purpose. He just didn’t think Jacob was

interested in talking to him.

“That’s because I’m always busy,” Allan said. “I don’t have time to waste on idle

conversation. And just so you know, I figured you wouldn’t be interested in talking to me,

is all. I know how you football stars have reputations to protect.” He didn’t mean to

sound defensive, but it did.

Jacob pulled his hands out of his pockets and laughed. Then he patted the bench

and said, “Come over here and sit down next to me.”

Allan hesitated for a moment, then went to the bench and sat down on the other

end. He crossed his legs. His hands were still in his pockets and he was freezing. He

turned his head in Jacob’s direction and asked, “What are you doing here, sitting on a

park bench this late at night?” Did he have any idea where he was?

Jacob laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Just thinking,” he said.

“Ah well,” Allan said. It sounded innocent, so he decided to inform Jacob. “In

case you don’t know, this park is a known cruise spot at night for gay men. Someone

might get the wrong idea if they see you here.” Then he cleared his throat and added, “I

only know this from what I’ve heard. I never come here alone at night unless I’m on my

way home from work and I want to take a shortcut back to campus.”

Jacob laughed again. He rubbed his jaw and said, “Actually, I know exactly what

goes on here at night. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here either. I’ve been coming here

at night since I was a freshman.”

Allan’s eyes became headlights. He didn’t believe what he was hearing. Jacob

Steinman, star football player and best-looking guy on campus, was telling him he

cruised public parks for sex with men. But he wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said,

“Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”

Jacob squared his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. He nodded, smiled,

and said, “You seem surprised. Is it that shocking?”

Allan didn’t want to play games. He was cold and he was tired. He gave Jacob a

look and asked, “Surprised that you’re gay, or surprised that you cruise the park for vapid,

anonymous sex with total strangers?”

Jacob blinked, as if he hadn’t expected Allan to be so blunt. “Are you surprised

I’m gay? I don’t care what you think about me cruising the park. That’s none of your

business. I have needs and I’m not ashamed to admit them.”

Allan softened. He understood better than anyone about unfulfilled needs. There

had been many times he’d been so sexually frustrated he’d almost gone to the park

looking for sex. The only thing that had kept him from doing so was his inherent need for

affection and tenderness. Without those elements of romance, sex wouldn’t be the same

for Allan.

He looked into Jacob’s eyes and said, “Yes. I honestly didn’t know you were gay.

I thought you were just another straight jock.”

Jacob rubbed his strong jaw and laughed. “Just another dumb jock, in fact.”

“Absolutely not,” Allan said. He moved closer and said, “Well, maybe at first I

did. But not after I heard the story you wrote for creative writing class. It really was the

best story in the class, and the best one I’ve ever heard. You’re very, very good. You are

a talented writer, and far from being a dumb jock.”

Jacob looked down at his shoes and adjusted his legs. He pressed his lips together

and thought for a moment. He seemed to be at a loss for words, embarrassed by his own

talent. “I sold a story this week to a small literary review,” he said. “I never expected

them to like it, but they bought it. I’m still in shock. You’re the only person I’ve told

about it. And I’m not even sure why I’m telling you. I was going to keep it a secret.”

Allan smiled. Jacob’s humility was something he hadn’t expected either. Jacob

couldn’t even look him in the eye when he spoke about his success. If Allan had sold a

story to a literary review, he would have been shouting it all over campus and

broadcasting excerpts on the radio.

“I’d like to read it,” Allan said. “And I’m glad you told me. If it’s anything like

the story you wrote for class, I can’t wait to read it.”

Jacob lifted his arm and rested his hand on Allan’s thigh. He squeezed it gently

and said, “You can come back to my room tonight and read it. My roommate is gone

until after Christmas vacation and I have the whole place to myself.” Then he looked into

Allan’s eyes and smiled.

When he touched Allan’s thigh, Allan’s heart skipped, then pounded. And when

he looked into Allan’s eyes and invited him back to his room to read his story, Allan had

trouble finding his voice. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Was Jacob Steinman, the

best-looking man he’d ever met, asking him back to his room to read a story, or was he

asking him back there to have sex? Allan had never acted on his sexuality before; he

knew nothing about intimate relationships with other men. No one had ever produced a

TV show with two gay men in love. Like many other gay men in their early twenties,

Allan had missed having a normal puberty and he had no idea how to respond to Jacob’s

candid offer.

So he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’d like to read it. I can’t wait to read it.”

If Jacob wasn’t interested in having sex, that was fine, too. Allan still thought Jacob was

a great writer and he wanted to encourage him.

Jacob stood up from the bench. He smiled and reached down for Allan’s hand. He

grabbed it and said, “C’mon, then. I’m freezing to death out here.” He pulled Allan up

and they started to walk back to the dorms. Jacob held his hand until they reached the

edge of the park, where the campus began and the outside lights were blazing.

Chapter Five

Jacob’s dorm room was identical to Allan’s, a cinderblock cubicle with two twin

beds, one large window with Venetian blinds, and dark brown industrial carpet worn in

the center. There were built-in desks and dressers made out of processed wood with oak

veneer, and a small bathroom with bright white tiles and not enough towel bars for two

people. Jacob made a point of distinguishing his side of the room from his roommate’s

side of the room. Jacob’s neat bed was on the left and his roommate’s rumpled bed was

on the right. Jacob’s was covered with a thick black comforter, and his roommate’s was

covered with a stained, dark green chenille bedspread. Jacob’s clothes were in the closet,

but his roommate’s clothes were shoved into corners all over his side of the room. His

shoes and sneakers were piled in a heap at the foot of the bed and there was a dirty old

jockstrap shoved into a black boot.

When Allan pressed his palm to his throat and stared down at the jockstrap, Jacob

laughed and said, “My roommate is a slob. He’s a great guy, though, so I’ve learned to

live with it for the time being.”

Allan smiled and shook his head. “My roommate is a slob, too. He eats crackers

in bed.” He was trying to be smooth. But he wasn’t sure what to say or what to do, so the

first thing that popped into his mind was what came out of his mouth.

Jacob laughed, then placed his palm on the small of Allan’s back. He led him to

his side of the room and invited him to sit down on the bed while he looked for the short

story. Allan had never been touched by a good-looking man that way before. Actually,

he’d never been touched by any man that way. When Jacob had placed his palm on

Allan’s back, it felt like there was a wild New Year’s Eve party going on inside Allan’s

body.

He sat down on the edge of the bed while Jacob went to the desk and retrieved his

laptop. On his way back to the bed, he switched off the hard overhead fluorescent fixture

and said, “I hate those lights. We can read in bed much better without them. Take off

your shoes and make yourself comfortable.” He put the laptop down on the nightstand

next to the bed, switched on a smaller lamp with a softer bulb, and kicked off his shoes.

“Can I get you anything? I only have vodka, but it’s chilled. I keep it in that small

refrigerator over there next to the hamper.”

Allan was terrified to move or speak. He was still on the edge of the bed with his

knees pressed together and his hands folded on his lap. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but

he figured a little vodka might help ease his nerves. “Yes, thank you,” he said. “I’d like

some vodka.”

His voice was so polite and so soft, Jacob chuckled and said, “I only have one

glass, though. I hope you don’t mind sharing it with me.”

Allan’s blinked.

Jacob squinted and smiled. “You’re so damn cute,” he said.

When the vodka was in a glass on the nightstand next to the laptop, Jacob

removed his jeans and his sweater and folded them neatly over a desk chair. Allan

blinked again. Jacob was wearing a white T-shirt, white boxer briefs, and dark socks. He

walked to the bed and said, “If you want to get more comfortable before we get into bed,

you can take off your clothes and just hang out in your underwear.” His voice was even

and natural.

Allan froze; he wasn’t wearing underwear that day. He’d been late for work. He’d

taken a fast shower before work and he hadn’t bothered with underwear. He smiled and

said, “I’m fine like this.” While he spoke, he looked down at his shoes. He didn’t want to

stare at Jacob’s strong, magnificent body in underwear. He was ready to fall on his knees

and bury his face between Jacob’s legs and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He

still wasn’t sure exactly where all this was leading.

Jacob smiled and said, “That’s cool.” He poked Allan’s shoulder with his bare

knee. His crotch was practically in Allan’s face. He laughed and said, “At least take off

your shoes and move up. Get into bed and I’ll hold the computer while you read.”

Allan unclasped his hands and kicked off his shoes. He slid back on the black

comforter—carefully, so he wouldn’t mess it up. He reached back and adjusted the

pillows against the cinderblock wall and leaned into the corner. When his back was

against the wall, Jacob climbed onto the bed and sat next to him. They were on top of the

black comforter; Jacob’s bare right leg rested against his. It was longer than Allan’s leg,

and covered with a fine layer of dark brown hair. When Jacob adjusted his left leg, then

reached down to adjust his balls so they wouldn’t be squashed together, Allan closed his

eyes and took a quick breath. There was lump in his throat and an erection in his pants by

then.

“Are you comfortable?” Jacob asked, as he reached for the vodka on the

nightstand.

“Yes,” Allan said, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Here,” Jacob said, “have some of this. It will relax you.” He took a drink and

handed the vodka to Allan.

Allan reached for the glass and sighed. “Do I look that nervous?” He was tired of

pretending he wasn’t.

Jacob smiled and kissed his forehead. “No,” he said. “You look adorable.”

After Jacob kissed him, Allan was certain that Jacob was trying to seduce him. He

closed his eyes and took three huge gulps of vodka. It was tasteless, but ice cold. He still

couldn’t believe he was in bed with Jacob Steinman and that Jacob Steinman had just

kissed him and told him he looked adorable. He didn’t feel adorable. He felt awkward

and out of place, as if his mind had been disconnected from his body and he was about to

wake up from a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream at all. A moment later, Jacob took the glass from his hand

and placed it on the nightstand. When he turned back to face Allan, he put his arm around

Allan’s shoulder and said, “Are you okay?”

Allan shrugged. He was in bed with a real live football player. His body was still

tense and he was terrified to lean into Jacob’s side. He knew where this was going; he

was ready for it to finally happen. He just had to relax so it could happen. “I’m fine,” he

said. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before with a guy.”

Jacob kissed his forehead again. “I’ve been watching you from a distance for a

long time, and I’ve always suspected it. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to

do. We can just lie here all night like this, if that’s all you want.”

Hell.

As far back as Allen could remember, he’d been dreaming about his first time

with a man. The last thing he wanted to do was lie back and do nothing all night. So he

took a deep breath; the vodka had kicked in and his toes were beginning to tingle. He

reached between Jacob’s legs, touched his boxer briefs, and grabbed his concealed

erection. He squeezed it gently and wet his lips. He stroked it a few times and said, “I’m

okay. I want to do this, and I want to do it with you. I’ve been watching you for a long

time, too. And ever since you saved me from those guys in the locker room, I haven’t

been able to think about anyone but you.” He wasn’t just stroking Jacob’s ego either. It

wasn’t just because Jacob was a football player and a talented fiction writer. He felt this

way because there was something about Jacob that he just couldn’t resist.

Jacob bucked his slim hips forward and lifted his hand to the back of Allan’s head.

He pressed hard and pushed Allan’s face toward his. When their lips met and Jacob

inserted his tongue into Allan’s mouth, Allan closed his eyes and moaned out loud. It was

as if the heavens had opened up and choirs had begun to sing. His legs tingled and his

heart raced. His balls jumped higher and his toes curled down. He’d always dreamed

what it would be like to kiss a man this way, but this was much better than anything he

could have imagined.

While they kissed, he removed his hand from Jacob’s briefs, lowered it to Jacob’s

hairy thigh, and slid it up under Jacob’s briefs so he could hold Jacob’s penis in the palm

of his hand. It was solid and stiff, yet soft and smooth at the same time. Allan discovered

that touching another man’s dick wasn’t like touching his own. When he wrapped his

hand all the way around the shaft, Jacob was so thick that the only fingers that met were

his thumb and middle finger.

Jacob’s head moved slowly. He pressed his tongue against Allan’s tongue and

went as deep into Allan’s mouth as he could. The more Allan stroked Jacob’s dick the

more aggressive Jacob became. Jacob spread his legs wider and lowered his hands to

Allan’s pants. He popped the button and pulled down the zipper. When he reached behind

Allan’s back and slipped both hands down Allan’s pants, he stopped kissing for a second.

He squeezed Allan’s bare ass and whispered, “No underwear?”

Allan whispered, “I was in a rush today. I didn’t have time.” His eyes were still

closed, his head was tilted back, and his mouth was wide open. His left hand was on

Jacob’s broad shoulder and his right was still under his briefs, stroking Jacob’s dick.

Jacob’s hands went all the way down Allan’s pants. He massaged Allan’s ass and

started kissing him again. This time he kissed with more force, tilting his head sideways

and sucking on Allan’s tongue. Allan’s head went back and his mouth opened wider. He

was so inexperienced he’d never even imagined that people could suck each other’s

tongues this way. It felt as if Jacob was trying to yank his tongue right out of his mouth.

It caused such a wave of pleasure throughout Allan’s body, he now knew why all the

straight kids he’d gone to high school with couldn’t wait to make out in the back seats of

their cars. At the time, he’d thought they were all idiots wasting their time.

Allan was regaining his lost puberty in one night with Jacob. They kissed until

Allan’s lips were red and swollen. When they stopped, Jacob pressed his right palm on

the back of Allan’s head and pushed it forward. Allan was still holding his dick. Allan

may have been a virgin, but he had instincts and he knew what Jacob wanted him to do.

The unspoken lines of distinction between them had been drawn from the beginning: in

bed, Jacob would always be naturally dominant, and Allan would always be ready to

submit to his needs. Top and bottom; the perfect balance between gay men. And Allan

wanted to do it. He’d wanted to suck Jacob’s dick since the first time he’d seen him on

the football field. But he hesitated—he’d never tasted another man’s penis and he wasn’t

sure what it would be like.

When he hesitated, Jacob caressed the back of his head and said, “You’ve never

done this either, have you?” His voice was soft and reassuring, without urgency.

Allan shook his head and said, “No.”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to do it,” Jacob said. “We can go as

slowly as you want. There’s no rush tonight.”

“Just lie back and close you eyes,” Allan said. He didn’t want to slow down. He’d

been dreaming about this night since he was a teenager, and nothing was going to ruin it

for him. Not even his own fears.

Allan slid down on the comforter and lowered his head to Jacob’s crotch. He

pulled Jacob’s dick toward his face, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and wrapped

his lips around the head. He didn’t want to make any mistakes; he didn’t want to be an

inept lover. He remembered the punch line of an old joke: “Suck, Bessie; blow is only an

expression,” and he started sucking the head. When he did this, Jacob’s head tilted back

and he moaned out loud. The head of Jacob’s dick against his puffy lips felt simple and

natural.

Allan knew he was pleasing him, so he sucked on the head for a while, then ran

his tongue back and forth, just below the head. A moment later, he slowly slipped as

much of Jacob into his mouth as he could. He took his time. He didn’t want to gag, and

he wasn’t sure how much he could take. But he knew he must have been doing something

right, because Jacob’s body started to vibrate and his legs moved up and down on the

black comforter.

When he sucked the entire shaft, pressing his tongue into the thick vein on the

bottom and taking care not to let his teeth touch the shaft, he took deep breaths through

his nose and sighed out loud. He’d never tasted anything like this before. It was thick and

full and fleshy, with a slightly salty under taste (it was pre-come; he hadn’t figured it out

yet). All the worrying he’d done about gagging had been a waste of time. He soon

discovered that he didn’t have a strong gag reflex, and that he was able to take the entire

cock to the back of his throat without even so much as a cough. And when he did this,

while the head of Jacob’s dick pressed into the back of his warm, wet throat, he sucked so

hard on the shaft Jacob started to moan out loud. It wasn’t dirty talk. It was more like

begging: “Please don’t stop…Ah yes, please, suck harder.”

Allan liked the control and he liked the power this gave him. And even though

Jacob was the dominant one and he was the submissive, Allan knew that when Jacob’s

dick was inside his mouth and he was sucking him off, he was the one who was actually

in control of everything.

It wasn’t long before Allan’s head was bobbing up and down, swallowing the

taste of Jacob, and savoring each small drop of his pre-come (it didn’t take long to figure

it out). He lost all track of time. The only thing he cared about was what was inside his

mouth. He sucked until his neck ached and his jaw almost locked, and he would have

continued sucking if Jacob hadn’t grabbed the back of his head and whispered, “I’m close.

You’d better stop. I don’t want to come yet and I won’t be able to control myself much

longer.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind doing this.” Allan lifted his head and looked into

Jacob’s eyes. His voice was soft and innocent; he didn’t want to sound too eager. But

inside he was on fire. He loved sucking Jacob’s cock. He’d always loved the taste of his

own come and he couldn’t wait to taste Jacob’s.

Jacob ran his palm down the back of Allan’s head and said, “I want to do

something else, if that’s okay. I have condoms and lube in the nightstand drawer.”

Allan took a deep breath and pressed his palm to his chest. He’d had a feeling that

Jacob would want anal sex with him that night. But he was uncertain. This had always

been the one thing in life that he’d wanted to do, and at the same time had terrified him

the most. Gay men like Allan had never had those tender, heart-heart discussions with

their fathers about the facts of life when they were teenagers. At least not about the facts

of gay life. There were very few straight fathers around who would even know how to go

about explaining the facts of gay life to a gay teenager, let alone approach the subject

without stammering. How to teach your teenage son to have anal sex with another man?

It didn’t exist. It was okay to be gay—politically correct—as long as you were over

twenty-one and your actual (or implied) sexuality was never mentioned. But if you were

in puberty and trying to figure out what gay men actually did in bed with each other, the

subject was considered off limits everywhere.

So gay men like Allan learned about sex from books, porn videos, and smut

magazines. They grabbed whatever information they could get their hands on because

they were dying for information and there was no other way to find out about it. Or, sadly,

they learned about it the hard way: through their own personal experiences, which were

usually awkward moments of trial and error that ended mostly in disappointment and

self-doubt.

Allan looked into Jacob’s eyes and nodded yes. He didn’t want to refuse Jacob

anything, and he wanted his first experience with anal intercourse to be with a man he

truly cared about. Though it was still too soon to admit he was in love with Jacob, he had

strong feelings for him.

“Just go easy,” Allan said. Then he looked at Jacob’s crotch and frowned.

“You’re very large, ah, down there, and I’ve never done this before either.” Jacob knew

this already, but he figured he’d say it out loud just to enforce the point.

“Just trust me,” Jacob said.

After that, things moved fast. Obviously, Jacob knew what he wanted and he was

experienced and aggressive enough to know how to get it. He sat up in bed and pulled off

all this clothes. His T-shirt landed on his roommate’s bed, his socks wound up on the

desk, and his boxer briefs fell accidentally on Allan’s face. When he was naked, he

reached down with both hands and pulled off Allan’s pants. Then he pulled off Allan’s

shirt and his socks, bundled Allan’s clothes into a pile, and tossed them off the side of the

bed. He told Allan to roll over on his stomach while he reached into the nightstand

drawer. By the time Allan was on his stomach, Jacob’s erection was covered with a

condom that was slick and shiny with a generous amount of lube.

Jacob climbed onto the bed and went behind Allan. He spread Allan’s legs apart

and rubbed more lube up and down Allan’s ass crack. When his middle finger reached

Allan’s opening, he leaned forward and asked, “Are you okay so far?” He was breathing

heavily.

Allan nodded. “I’m fine.”

When Jacob slowly shoved his finger into Allan’s body, he bit his bottom lip and

said, “Is this okay?”

Allan nodded again. He’d finger-fucked himself many times while masturbating,

so he knew what to expect. “Yes,” he said. “I’m fine.” It hurt a little, but not much.

Jacob shoved his finger all the way into Allan’s body and moved it around for a

minute, then he pulled it out and leaned forward, resting all his upper body weight on his

left arm. With his right arm, he grabbed his erection and pointed the head toward Allan’s

body. He rubbed it around the lips of Allan’s opening a few times, then slowly inserted it.

Allan closed his eyes and bit the pillow. He clenched his fists and squinted as

tightly as he could. The most outrageous amount of pain that he’d ever experience passed

through his body. It was worse than that time he’d broken his arm, and much worse than

the time he’d slammed his thumb in a car door. It stung every nerve and tightened every

muscle. He didn’t want to scream out loud—he was hoping the pain would go away.

He’d seen porn stars do this all the time and they’d never even flinched. How on earth

could it have been so easy for them? Allan was almost ready to beg Jacob to pull the

brutal monster out of his body, then run all the way back to his own dorm room.

But when Jacob was halfway inside, he stopped moving and whispered, “I know

it hurts. Just relax your sphincter muscle completely. Concentrate hard on doing this. And

whatever you do, don’t push. If you consciously relax and loosen up, the pain will

disappear. Pushing only makes it worse and you’ll feel like you have to go to the

bathroom. But it’s only a reflex and it’ll pass.”

This was news to Allan. He’d always heard pushing helped during anal sex. He’d

even read that pushing, as if he were trying to go to the bathroom, helped ease the initial

pain. And no book or magazine he’d ever read had mentioned relaxing his sphincter

muscle. As a matter of fact, he’d once read on someone’s writing blog that using the

word sphincter in erotic gay fiction was taboo and considered cliché. Evidently, that

dumb fucking blog post hadn’t been written by a gay male who had the slightest inkling

what gay sex was like. If it had been, the writer would have known how important the

word sphincter—duh—was for gay men during anal intercourse.

Jacob went in deeper and the pain only intensified. It felt like Jacob was trying to

insert a baseball bat into a keyhole—without lube. Then it felt like Allan had to go to the

bathroom, even though he hadn’t eaten since early that morning. And for a couple of

minutes, while his erection softened and his jaw grew sore from biting the pillow, he

started to believe that maybe he wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. Maybe, as a gay man,

he was actually a top instead of a bottom. Maybe he’d been fantasizing about the wrong

position while masturbating all these years because he didn’t know any better.

Then Jacob said, “Ah well, you feel so soft and tight. You have no idea how long

I’ve wanted to do this to you. You’re beautiful.” Then he plunged into Allan’s hole until

his pubic hairs were pressed against Allan’s bare ass. He wrapped his arms around

Allan’s shoulders and kissed the back of Allan’s neck, pinning him to the bed with all of

his strength.

A minute later, the pain finally started to subside. Allan spread his legs wider and

bent his legs at the knees. When his calves went up, the pain disappeared and a sensation

of fullness enveloped his entire body. His sphincter muscle had finally relaxed, and his

anus had slowly accepted every inch of Jacob’s erection. The weight of Jacob’s strong,

muscular body made him feel safe and warm. The masculine aroma of musky deodorant

from Jacob’s armpits penetrated his nostrils.

“Are you okay?” Jacob whispered into his hear. He wasn’t moving his hips yet,

but he was all the way inside.

Allan stretched out his arms and sighed. He spread his legs wider and said, “I’m

fine. I really am. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

It seemed as if this was what Jacob had been waiting to hear. He slowly began to

buck his hips. He lifted his upper body and rested his weight on his arms as if he was

about to do pushups. While he slipped his erection in and out of Allan’s hole, Allan

moaned and sighed into the pillow. When Jacob pulled all the way out and plunged back

into Allan’s body fast, Allan’s toes curled and his back arched. All the pain Allan had

experienced in the first few minutes had been worth it. His own erection was pulsing

again, and the lips of his hole were tingling with pleasure he never knew existed.

Allan remained on his stomach, with his legs spread. Jacob fucked for a long time,

with a steady rhythm that reminded Allan of a fast polka. There were loud slaps against

Allan’s ass; the mattress rocked and the black comforter bunched up. Wwhen Jacob was

finally ready to come, he grabbed Allan’s waist and pulled him up to his knees until he

was on all fours. Then Jacob started bucking again, doggie style, and said, “Grab your

dick so we can come together. I’m really close.”

Allan smiled and grabbed his dick. He was rocking his hips and backing into

Jacob now. When he started jerking his own dick, he thought about how nice it was that

Jacob had considered his climax, too. Jacob could have just continued fucking and come

alone, and Allan could have come a minute later. But Jacob wanted them to come

together. And this kind, considerate gesture on Jacob’s part, at that very moment, was

when a wonderful evening became a perfect evening, and one of the best experiences of

Allan’s entire life.

Chapter Six

While Allan continued to stare at Jacob Steinman on the barstool, he overheard

Mikey and the blond woman laughing. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about, and

he didn’t care. Jacob was sitting upright on the barstool, sound asleep, looking just as

gorgeous as he’d looked the last time Allan had seen him in college.

They’d continued to see each other until graduation. They’d both already made

separate plans for after graduation, plans couldn’t be altered. Allan was going to graduate

school in Stanford to study journalism, and Jacob had enlisted in the Marines, hoping to

become an officer. Other than write fiction, Jacob hadn’t been sure about what he wanted

to do in life. The Marines seemed like a good idea at the time. They’d both known that

after graduation they would go their separate ways. And Jacob had been open and honest

about the fact that he wasn’t ready to get seriously involved with a permanent life partner.

But the day after graduation, Allan hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. When

Jacob left, it felt as if someone had ripped out his heart. He spent the entire summer with

his family, crying himself to sleep at night. At the time, his family didn’t know he was

gay—not unusual—so he couldn’t tell them why he was so depressed. He lost twenty-

five pounds, watched nothing but reality television, and took long walks alone that

sometimes lasted for two hours. When he went to Stanford that fall, he plunged into the

graduate program and concentrated on his work. The only thing that saved his sanity was

that he was so passionately against the current presidential administration.

Now, Allan smiled at Jacob and leaned forward. He placed his palm on Jacob’s

shoulder and said, “Jacob, it’s me, Allan.” Then he held his breath, hoping Jacob would

remember him.

When Jacob opened his eyes, he tilted his head and smiled. His eyes were glossy

and red, and he was so drunk he couldn’t keep his head straight. But it was still the same

perfect smile, with straight white teeth and two small dimples, which had made Allan’s

knees weak in college. “You look great,” Jacob said, with a soft, slurred voice.

“You look good, too,” Allan said. But he still wasn’t sure if Jacob remembered

him. “It’s been a long time.” A shock of his dark brown hair had fallen across his

forehead. Allan wanted to reach out and push it back.

Jacob continued to smile. He raised his eyebrows and said, “Allan. You look

cute.”

Allan took a deep breath. Jacob had remembered his name. “You’re the last

person I thought I’d run into tonight. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Jacob laughed and slapped his knee. “I love coffee. Do you have any?”

“Not with me,” Allan said. “But I’ll get you some.”

* * * *

When Allan asked Mikey to help with Jacob, Mikey frowned and said, “I’m not

taking this drunk in my limo. He’s a total stranger, and you are not going home with a

total stranger. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Allan closed his eyes and took a quick breath. He grabbed Mikey’s arm and said,

“He’s not a stranger. I knew him in college. I can’t leave him here. Just help me get him

into the limo and get some coffee into him.”

Mikey seemed to know Allan would never have been this worried about a casual

acquaintance.

“Is this they guy from college you’ve been pining for all these years?” Mikey

asked. “Is this Mr. Perfect?”

Allan rolled his eyes. There was no use denying it. “This is Jacob Steinman,” he

said. “And yes, this is the guy that I knew in college, the same one I told you about.”

Since college, Allan hadn’t become serious with anyone. Mikey had blamed it all on the

mysterious man in Allan’s past, whom he had referred to as Mr. Perfect, because no other

man could meet the standards Jacob set back in college.

“Okay,” Mikey said, rubbing his jaw, “what are we going to do with him when

he’s in the limo? What if he pukes?”

Allan shrugged. “I was hoping we could stop and get him some coffee,” he said.

The blond woman put her arm around Mikey’s waist and leaned into his body.

Mikey smiled at her, then looked at Allan and said, “I kind of had other plans, if you

know what I mean. And they didn’t include coffee.” He rolled his eyes and nodded at the

blonde, who was tugging at his belt buckle.

“That’s fine,” Allan said. “Just drop us off at my place and I’ll take care of him.”

Mikey rubbed the back of his head and stared at Jacob. “I don’t know about this.”

“It’s fine,” Allan said. “I’ll be fine, trust me.”

But when they pulled up to Allan’s building and the limo stopped, Mikey grabbed

Allan’s arm and said, “I’m still not sure about this. I don’t like the idea of leaving you

alone with this fucking drunk.” Jacob hadn’t said a word in the limo; he was barely

conscious.

The blonde was sitting on Mikey’s lap. She nibbled his ear and said, “He’ll be

fine.” She pointed at Jacob and said, “He looks like a decent guy. He’s hot.”

Allan gave her a look, then sighed and said, “I’ll be okay, really. I’ve known

Jacob since college. He’s cool and you don’t have to worry.” Then he fake-punched

Mikey in the stomach. “But thanks for asking.” He liked knowing Mikey was always

there for him. Though Allan knew Mikey wanted to get into the blonde’s pants more than

anything that night, it sounded as if Allan’s safety was even more important to him.

Mikey squared his broad shoulders and jerked his head back. He said, with his

deepest macho voice, “Hey, you’re my gay buddy. I’m always going to take care of you.”

Then he grabbed Jacob’s lapel and said, “You’d better treat him right. I don’t want

anyone fucking around with him. You got it, man?”

Jacob tilted his head in Mikey’s direction and gave him a silly grin. “I got it. He’s

your gay buddy, and...” He was so drunk he couldn’t finish a sentence.

When they climbed out of the limo, Jacob had to put his arm around Allan’s

shoulder because he couldn’t stand up straight. As they entered the building, the doorman

held the door wide open and frowned at Allan.

“He’s an old friend,” Allan said. “I’m going to sober him up.” Allan had a good

reputation in his building. He didn’t want the doorman to think he’d just picked up a

drunk in a bar.

By the time they reached the elevator, Jacob was walking again. He was still

staggering and swaying, but at least he wasn’t leaning on Allan. But when the elevator

went up, with a sudden jolt, Jacob leaned back against the wall and clenched his fists.

When it stopped on Allan’s floor with a rock and a sudden jerk, Jacob pressed his hand to

his stomach and gulped a few times.

Allan grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. Jacob’s face had turned a

weird shade of grayish white. His right hand was now over his mouth, he was leaning

forward, and his cheeks were bulging. Allan unlocked the door to his apartment and

kicked it open fast, then dragged Jacob inside and pointed to a small bathroom. Jacob

staggered into the bathroom and closed the door, and Allan went into the kitchen and

made a large pot of strong coffee.

It wasn’t a large apartment. With all the money Allan had made with Mikey and

the TV show, he could well have afforded something grander. Allan pulled out a bag of

dark coffee beans and poured them into the coffee grinder. The kitchen was small; he

didn’t have to reach far for the coffee maker or the sink. But he liked his small apartment

in Turtle Bay, he didn’t need anything larger, and he wanted people to think he was a still

a struggling journalist/writer working toward a goal. If he’d bought a huge expensive loft

like Mikey had done, people wouldn’t have taken him seriously as a struggling journalist.

When the coffee was ready, he poured some into a large black mug and stepped

into the living room area, where there was a small glass table for four. He’d assumed

Jacob would be either sitting at the table or stretched out on the black leather sofa in front

of the fireplace. The apartment was sparse and neat. The only other pieces of furniture

were two black leather chairs, a glass coffee table, and two filled bookcases flanking the

fireplace. He scanned the room. Jacob was nowhere in sight. He’d heard him flush the

toilet twice and open the bathroom door.

Allan looked down at the shiny hardwood floor and raised his eyebrows. He saw a

pair of black shoes outside the bathroom door. In front of the shoes, he saw a pair of jeans

and white boxer shorts in a clump. On the floor outside his bedroom door, he saw a white

dress shirt and a gray sport jacket. Evidently, Jacob had stripped down to his socks and

left a trail of discarded clothing that lead into the bedroom.

Allan put the coffee down on the table and leaned forward. The bedroom was

dark, but the door was open. He pressed his palm to his chest and slowly went to the

bedroom doorway. When Allan looked inside, Jacob was lying on the right side of the

bed, on his stomach, with the covers pulled up to his waist.

Allan closed his eyes for a moment and took a quick breath. He bit his bottom lip

and reached down to the floor. He picked up Jacob’s jacket and pressed it to his face. The

jacket was covered with Jacob’s scent and it was still warm with Jacob’s body heat. Allan

inhaled deeply and held his breath. He rubbed the lapel against his cheek and smiled. A

flood of memories both bitter and sweet came rushing back and he realized he’d almost

forgotten what it was like to be in love.

A minute later, he folded the jacket and shirt and rested them over the back of a

dining chair. He picked up the pants and underwear and placed them on the back of

another chair. After he placed Jacob’s shoes next to the table, he took a deep breath and

walked into his bedroom and removed all of his clothes. Jacob was breathing heavily; his

back was moving up and down and his face was practically buried in the pillow. He

didn’t hear Allan undress and didn’t move a muscle when Allan pulled back the covers

on his side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.

Allan climbed into bed and rested his head against the pillow. He hadn’t been in

the same bed with Jacob since college, but his heart was already racing and his penis was

fully erect. He reached out and touched Jacob’s strong shoulder with his fingertips, then

closed his eyes, leaned forward, and smelled Jacob’s skin. He inhaled deeply. Jacob’s

distinct masculine aroma couldn’t be compared to anything, or anyone, else he’d ever

smelled. He wanted to kiss Jacob’s back. His mouth was watering, his penis was pulsing,

and his heart was beating in his ears. But he jerked back and pressed his palm to his

throat. Jacob was so drunk he couldn’t remain awake. Allan wasn’t going to have sex

with Jacob under these circumstances. He hadn’t seen him in years; they hadn’t even

talked. So he rolled over on his stomach, faced the opposite direction, and pulled the

covers up to his neck.

But when Allan pulled the covers up, Jacob groaned and moved into Allan’s side.

He lifted his leg and wrapped it around Allan’s body. He pressed his face into the base of

Allan’s neck and snuggled even closer. Allan’s eyes opened wide. He could feel Jacob’s

erection against his ass. He remained still, without moving a muscle, waiting to see what

would happen next.

A minute later, Jacob started bucking his hips slowly, rubbing his erection up and

down Allan’s ass. Allan’s eyes grew wider and he slowly spread his legs apart. When he

did this, Jacob kissed the back of his neck and whispered, “Do you have any condoms?”

Allan nodded and said, “Yes.” He’d assumed Jacob was too drunk to fuck. But at

least he wanted safe sex, which proved he wasn’t irresponsible.

Jacob grabbed his ass and said, “Can I fuck you?”

Allan’s heart started to beat faster and he had trouble speaking. He didn’t want to

say no. However, he didn’t want Jacob fucking him as if he were a total stranger just for

the sake of fucking. This would have been intrinsically wrong. Jacob was drunk and

Allan wasn’t sure what Jacob was thinking or feeling. But Allan was totally sober and in

complete control.

Then Jacob whispered, “C’mon, Allan, it’s been a long time. Let me fuck you for

old times’ sake. We used to be really good together. I know you like it.” Then he ran his

large hand down between Allan’s legs and squeezed the bottom of Allan’s ass.

Allan raised his eyebrows and smiled. A tear fell from the corner of his eye and

rolled down his cheek. This was all he needed to hear from the only man he’d ever loved.

He reached for a pre-lubricated condom in the nightstand beside the bed and handed it to

Jacob. He still couldn’t be sure what Jacob was thinking, but at least Jacob was sober

enough to know his name and remember the past they had shared.

Jacob fumbled with the condom and climbed onto Allan’s back. His movements

were awkward and abrupt, but his dick was thick and solid and ready. When he rested all

of his weight on Allan’s back and started bucking his cock into Allan’s ass crack, Allan

stretched out his arms and closed his eyes. Allan tried to arch his back, but Jacob had him

pinned to the mattress so hard he couldn’t even move his legs.

Jacob reached down and pressed the head of his dick to the lips of Allan’s hole.

He worked it into Allan’s body fast, plunging all the way in with one quick thrust. Even

though the condom had been pre-lubed, Allan had to bury his face in the pillow to keep

from screaming out loud. He clenched his teeth and held his breath. The sharp pain that

shot through his body made his ears ring. Allan hadn’t been with a man this way in a long

time—two years—and he hadn’t been with a man as thick and long as Jacob in years.

When Jacob was all the way inside, he rested his weight on Allan’s back and

kissed the back of Allan’s neck. His body was hot and his breath still smelled like booze.

Jacob remained dead still for a moment, as if he could feel Allan’s pain, allowing Allan’s

body to adjust to the intrusion. He didn’t start moving again until he felt Allan’s body

loosen up. Before he started bucking his hips, he whispered, “Are you okay?”

Allan nodded and sighed and rested his cheek on the pillow. The pain had

vanished and the only thing he felt now was complete satisfaction. To a certain extent,

sex with Jacob had always been sudden and passionate. And it tended to get rough,

sometimes because Jacob tended to lose control while he was fucking. But in the

beginning, he was always gentle and always willing to wait for Allan’s body to accept

him.

“I’m good,” Allan said. Then he silently thanked Jacob for asking.

After that, Jacob started bucking his hips faster. The rhythm increased and the bed

rocked so hard the box spring squeaked. While he plunged in and out of Allan’s body,

Allan’s eyes rolled and his mouth fell open. He reached down and grabbed his own dick

while Jacob fucked him. It didn’t take long. A few minutes later, Jacob’s chest started to

heave and he slammed into Allan’s ass as hard as he could.

They came together. Jacob grunted a few times, filled the condom, then rolled off

Allan’s back without saying a word. A second after that, Jacob fell into such a deep, calm

sleep, he began to snore. Allan slowly rose and rolled the condom off Jacob’s penis. He

removed Jacob’s socks and watch. Jacob was so far gone he didn’t even feel him do it.

Then Allan went into the bathroom, cleaned up, and came out with a wet rag. He wiped

his own come off the sheets and got into bed. He snuggled up next to Jacob, away from

the wet spot, and rested his head on Jacob’s chest.

* * * *

Allan slept lightly that night, listening to the puffs and snores coming from

Jacob’s mouth. The next morning he rose from the bed extra early while Jacob was still

sleeping and slipped into the bathroom. He didn’t want Jacob to wake up and see him

looking like a slob. He styled his hair, shaved, and put on a tight black T-shirt and a pair

of tight jeans that he thought made his ass look good. When he was dressed, he ironed

Jacob’s clothes and placed them on a chair in the bedroom. Then he closed the bedroom

door so Jacob could sleep and went into the kitchen to cook breakfast.

By the time Jacob opened the bedroom door, the glass table had been set for two,

with eggs Benedict, French toast, orange juice, and hot coffee. Allan emerged from the

kitchen and smiled. “Good morning,” he said. “I see you found your clothes. I ironed

them for you this morning.” Then he gestured to the table and said, “Have a seat. I made

you a decent breakfast, too.”

Jacob smiled and rubbed his jaw. His hair had been combed and he’d taken a

shower, but his eyes were still puffy and red, and his skin still had a slightly grayish tone.

He pressed his fingers to his eyes and rubbed them, then he said, “Do you have any

aspirin?” He looked at the food and frowned. “I really have to be going. I’m working on

an assignment this week, between New York and D.C., and I have to get back to D.C. by

this afternoon.”

“I don’t have aspirin,” Allan said. “I never get headaches.”

Jacob stared at him and rolled his eyes. “That’s right. I remember now. You only

give them.”

Allan smiled and shrugged. “Me?” He knew better than anyone that he could be

abrasive and strong-willed at times.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jacob said. “I’ve intruded enough. I’ll buy some on the

way to the train station.”

Allan frowned. Couldn’t the big fool see how much trouble he’d gone through to

make breakfast? “You really should eat something. It’s not good to go without a decent

breakfast.” He’d worked hard on the eggs Benedict. He’d gone through a half dozen eggs

just to get the perfectly poached egg.

Jacob looked down at his wrist and tilted his head to the side. “You don’t have to

go to any trouble for me. I don’t want to be a bother.” Then he looked up at Allan and

asked, “Have you seen my watch?”

Allan shrugged and said, “It’s on the nightstand next to the bed. I took it off when

I took off your socks.”

Jacob looked at him and blinked. “You took off my socks?”

“You looked uncomfortable,” Allan said. “I’ll go get the watch.”

Allan ran to the bedroom and grabbed the watch. By the time he returned to the

bedroom, Jacob was standing near the front door, ready to leave.

“At least have some coffee,” Allan said. “I don’t have any cream or sugar, but the

coffee is freshly ground. I like it black myself.”

Jacob smiled. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m fine.” Then he leaned forward and

looked at Allan with an intense stare. He squinted and said, “You look different. Your

face is different.” He pointed. “What the hell did you do to yourself?”

Allan shrugged. “It’s my nose. I had it fixed when I got out of college.” His old

nose hadn’t been large, but there had been a small bump that had always bothered him.

He figured he had to look his best if he wanted to be a television journalist, so he had the

bump in his nose removed. Most people never even knew he’d done it, not even Mikey.

He never spoke about it to anyone.

Jacob pressed his lips together. “What the hell did you go and do that for?” He

frowned.

“I didn’t like it,” Allan said, with a meek, apologetic tone.

“Did it hurt?”

Allan laughed. “No. They drugged me up. I didn’t feel a thing. Does it look

okay?”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “I guess it’s fine. But I liked your old nose, too.” Then he

reached for the door handle and said, “I have to be going. I’ve got to be in D.C. this

afternoon for a meeting. Thanks for letting me stay here last night, though.” His voice

became abrupt, as if he couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

When he opened the door and stepped into the hall, Allan followed him and said,

“It must be great to be in D.C. these days.”

Jacob gave him a blank stare. “Why?”

Allan’s eyes lit up and his voice became animated. “With new candidates like

Senator Amos thinking of running for president, it must be exciting. I wish I were in D.C.

right now to experience it all.”

When Jacob saw the passion all over Allan’s face, he smiled and said, “Ah well,

“I read Amos’s book. It will be interesting to see if he can pull this off in America.”

Amos was extremely liberal, and he was a strong supporter for the LGBT community.

Allan’s head jerked back. “You actually read Amos’s book? He’s not even that

well known yet. And no one even knows if he’s going to run or not.”

Jacob laughed and stared down at his shoes. “You still think I’m just another

dumb football jock, don’t you?”

Allan laughed. “Actually, no. I’ve read a few of the pieces you’ve written and

I’ve been very impressed.” He didn’t mention that each time he read one of Jacob’s

pieces, he felt more inadequate about his own floundering career in journalism.

Jacob raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, tell that to my editor so he can give me

a raise. Journalism doesn’t pay much and I could use all the help I can get.” Then he

turned and started walking to the elevator. “Thanks again for putting me up last night. I

hope I didn’t keep you up all night snoring. When I’ve been drinking that way, the only

thing I’m good for is sleep. I don’t even remember falling asleep last night.”

Allan followed him down the hall. “I don’t mind snoring…I like it. Besides, you

weren’t that loud. It was very soothing.” Now he knew Jacob didn’t remember having sex

with him. He’d been so drunk he didn’t remember anything but passing out.

Jacob stopped walking and faced him. He smiled and looked into his eyes, but

didn’t say anything.

Allan pulled a small sheet of paper from his back pocket and handed it to Jacob.

“Here’s my phone number, address, e-mail address, cell phone number, and work number.

If you ever need a place to crash while you’re in New York, call me. I’m usually around.

Why should you have to pay for a room? If I’m not around, the doorman can let you in.”

Jacob took the paper from his hand and stared at it. Allan had written it all out

with perfect printing, in dark black ink, neatly spaced. Jacob looked up and said, “Thanks

for the offer. I might take you up on it. And thanks again for putting up with me. I must

have been a horrible last night.” Then he pressed the elevator button and the door opened.

When he stepped into the elevator, Allan grabbed the door so it wouldn’t close.

“You weren’t horrible, Jacob. There’s nothing horrible about you. You were fine. You

just had a little too much to drink. I mean that. I didn’t mind helping out at all.” He knew

he sounded like he was begging, but he didn’t care. He wanted Jacob to know he was

willing to do anything for him, and that Jacob didn’t have to apologize.

Before the doors closed, Jacob smiled and looked into his eyes. He hesitated for a

moment, then said, “I’ll see you around, Allan. Thanks for everything.”

Chapter Seven

For the next two weeks, Allan became a slave to telephones. He never left his

apartment without his cell phone, and he answered each call on the first ring without even

looking at the caller ID. When he went to bed at night, he made sure the land line and the

cell phone were on his nightstand next to his bed. He even called his cell phone with his

land line, then called his land line with his cell phone to make sure both phones were

working and were set with the loudest ring tones. He did this two or three times a day,

just in case Jacob was trying to call him.

One night he even had a dream that Jacob had called him and he’d missed the call

because he’d been taking a shower. After that, he started taking the cell phone into the

bathroom and turning the shower off and on while he was showering, to be sure the

phone wasn’t ringing while the water was running. He blow-dried his hair in intervals,

because he knew he’d never hear the phone with the blow dryer running. When he

vacuumed his apartment, he put his cell phone on vibrate and held it in his hand.

By the end of the second week, on a warm Friday morning, Allan hadn’t heard

anything from Jacob. He went to work with dark glasses over his eyes and a leopard print

thong in his pocket. He was shooting another scene with Mikey that morning for The

Naughty Boiz, down in The Village in an outdoor café. The taxi dropped him off near the

corner, where he could see the long black limo. There was a production trailer around the

corner, so no one in the café would know they were shooting a scene for TV. He walked

around the corner and up to the trailer. When he stepped inside, Mikey was sitting in a

makeup chair, and a makeup artist was placing a silver wig on his head. The scene they

were filming that day required a complete transformation.

The makeup artist went to the other end of the trailer to get something. Allan went

to Mikey and looked into the mirror. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. “You

look unreal,” he said to Mikey. “If I didn’t know it was really you, I’d swear you were an

eighty-year-old woman.”

Allan had been worried about this scene. They were shooting a short sketch about

an older woman and a younger man, and Mikey was playing the part of the older woman.

He wasn’t sure Mikey dressed as an old woman would be believable. At first, Mikey had

wanted Allan to play the older woman, but then he reconsidered and thought it would be

funnier if he played the older woman himself and Allan played Acer, the ultimate bad

boy, in a leopard print thong and a ski mask.

Mikey looked into the mirror and grabbed his fake breasts. “I’ve been here since

four o’clock this morning.” He jiggled them a few times and said, “I look just like a hot

old broad who has had too much plastic surgery, don’t I? I’m getting an erection just

looking at these tits. They even feel real. Go ahead, squeeze them, Acer.” He always

referred to Allan as Acer before they shot a scene.

“I think I’ll pass,” Allan said. “But thanks anyway.” The last thing he wanted to

do was feel breasts, especially fake breasts.

“No, seriously,” Mikey said. “You have to touch them.” He was sitting on the

edge of his seat, pushing his chest forward.

Allan sighed and reached down. He placed his palm on Mikey’s chest, slipped it

under the halter top, and squeezed one of the fake boobs. It was fleshy and firm; it even

felt like real skin. “Wow,” he said. “I see what you mean.”

Mikey stretched out his arms and said, “I’d better stop touching them, though. I

don’t want to get all wooded up before we shoot.”

Allan laughed. “I’m amazed,” he said. “You look like an old Playboy bunny

model who doesn’t know when to retire.”

Mikey was wearing a skimpy floral print halter top and a white miniskirt. They’d

waxed Mikey’s hairy legs the day before for another segment on the show about the pain

of body waxing, and his rugged, hairy legs were now smooth and silky. His fingernails

were long and red, and his toenails had been painted to match. On his feet, he wore white

open-toed sandals with six-inch stiletto heels. The only thing that looked old about him

was his face and neck. The makeup artist had covered his face with some kind of realistic

aging material. The silver wig was puffy, with big wide curls that framed his face.

When the makeup artist returned from the other end of the trailer, she added some

finishing touches to the costume. She put large rhinestone cluster rings on Mikey’s

fingers, and large dangling earrings on his earlobes. When Mikey finally stood up and

looked in the mirror, he smoothed out his miniskirt and said, “How does my ass look? If

you were a straight guy, would you think I have a hot ass?”

Allan rolled his eyes and pulled the leopard thong out of his back pocket. Then he

patted Mikey’s ass and said, “Your ass looks just fine. I’m going into the bathroom to put

on my thong and ski mask so we can shoot the scene and get it over with.” The thought of

sitting in an outdoor café in a thong, with a large crowd staring at his ass, made his

stomach turn.

When Allan was ready, he covered his body with a robe and went outside to the

limo. It was waiting for him behind the trailer. Mikey was already around the corner,

sitting at a small table in the outdoor café. The scene was going to be about an older

woman, a cougar, waiting for her sexy young lover to arrive. Allan was supposed to get

out of the limo in his leopard thong, walk up to the café, and sit down on the old

woman’s lap in front of all the other customers. Mikey wanted to get a spontaneous

reaction to an older woman dating a much younger man. The fact that both characters

were so exaggerated only made it funnier. The customers in the café had no idea they

were filming a scene for a TV show, because they were shooting from across the street

with a hidden camera.

The limo pulled up to the outdoor café and Allan removed the robe. But he

realized there was no place to put his cell phone. He was still waiting for a call from

Jacob, and he didn’t want to take a chance and leave the phone in the limo in case Jacob

called. He tried shoving it down into the thong, but there wasn’t enough room for the

phone and his dick. He couldn’t just hold the phone in his hand while they shot the scene.

So he loosened the laces on his right boot and shoved the cell phone into his sock. Then

he covered his head with the ski mask and climbed out of the limo.

It was ten o’clock in the morning by then. He strolled up to the café in his thong

and ski mask, and stood in the middle of the seating area. The customers stopped eating

and talking and looked up at him. They lowered their forks and spoons and blinked. Allan

ignored them. He looked back and forth a few times until he saw Mikey sitting at a table

for two alone. He waved in Mikey’s direction and crossed over to his table. The other

people murmured things to each other, dropping their utensils and smoothing out their

napkins to see what Allan was going to do next.

When he reached Mikey’s table, he leaned forward and whispered into Mikey’s

ear, “I guess I have to kiss you on the lips.”

Mikey smiled and smoothed out his miniskirt. “If we want this to look like a real

old cougar dating a hot young stud, I guess you will. Pucker up, baby.”

Allan hesitated for a moment, then kissed Mikey on the mouth. Mikey was

wearing a thick coat of red lip gloss, and he tasted waxy and fake. Allan thought it would

be a quick kiss. But when Mikey heard a few of the customers gasp, he grabbed the back

of Allan’s head, pulled Allan’s face closer, and shoved his tongue into Allan’s mouth.

Mikey kissed him so hard, milking the scene for what it was worth, and shoved his

tongue in with such force, Allan had trouble catching his breath.

When Mikey finally stopped kissing him, he removed his hand from the back of

Allan’s head and whispered, “This is great. Everyone in the café is gaping at us. They’re

all in shock.” He reached back and squeezed Allan’s ass in front of everyone and

whispered, “Now sit down on my lap and start making out with me. Let’s really give

them something to see.”

None of this had been planned, which made it even better for the scene. As far as

Allan knew, he was just supposed to sit down on Mikey’s lap and flirt a little to see how

the customers would react. He had no idea they were going to feel each other up and

make out in public.

But Allan trusted Mikey’s creative instincts. So he stood up, adjusted the front of

his thong, and sat down on Mikey’s lap. He knew he was sitting on the lap of a strong

young man. But everyone else in the café thought he was sitting on the lap of an old

woman. (When they aired the show on TV, the viewers would know it was a really

Mikey in makeup, but the restaurant customers had no idea.) He put his arm around

Mikey’s shoulders, and Mikey put his arm around Allan’s waist. When they were locked

together in a tight embrace, Allan leaned forward and kissed him again.

Their cheeks indented, their heads tilted, and their bodies swayed. They made out

as if they were teenage lovers in the back seat of a parked car. Mikey even played with

Allan’s pierced nipples. The entire café pointed and stared at them. Under any

circumstances, this would have been an awkward scene in public. But the fact that Mikey

was dressed as an old woman only made it more shocking.

The manager of the café finally walked over and tapped Allan on the shoulder. He

said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He spoke directly to Allan, not Mikey.

Mikey stopped kissing and gave the manager a look. With the meek voice of an

old woman he pointed a long red fingernail and shouted, “This is discrimination. You’re

only doing this because I’m with a younger man.”

Allan looked the other way. He was having trouble keeping a straight face.

The manager put his hands on his hips and leaned back. He raised an eyebrow and

said, “I don’t give a damn how old you are, lady. I’m throwing you out because this guy

isn’t wearing a shirt or pants. We have a policy here: no shirt or shoes, no service. And if

he doesn’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

Allan stood up and said, “Maybe we’d better just leave, sweetheart. I don’t want

any trouble.” He knew it was time to end the scene. They hadn’t received permission

from anyone to do this scene, and they didn’t want to get into trouble with the police.

Mikey didn’t argue about leaving. But when he stood up, he looped his arm

through Allan’s arm and whispered, “We leave slowly, while they watch us, so the

camera can get a good look at their expressions. And when we get to the sidewalk, reach

down and grab my ass.” He was carrying a large bamboo purse. He placed it squarely in

front of his pelvis and tapped it with his long red fingernails.

Allan’s eyes popped. In less then ten minutes, he’d French kissed his best friend

in public, made out with his best friend while sitting on his lap, and now he was going to

grab his best friend’s ass on the street.

They walked slowly toward the small wrought-iron exit gate. When they reached

the sidewalk, while their backs were still facing the customers, Allan grabbed a handful

of Mikey’s ass and they continued walking.

Mikey took slow, awkward steps.

Allan whispered, “Are you walking like an old lady on purpose?” It was almost a

shuffle.

Mikey lifted his head high and smiled for everyone, then whispered back, “Fuck

no. These fucking high heels are killing me. I don’t know women do it. And I have a

huge woody under this tight skirt that I don’t want anyone to see. I’m glad I decided on

this large purse, otherwise they’d all see my dick.”

Allan’s eyebrows went up. “You have an erection?” Even though they’d been

kissing, Allan had considered this work. He’d only been concentrating on the scene, not

the kissing. The only time he’d been slightly aroused was when Mikey had touched his

pierced nipples. Mikey had strong, rough hands, the kind of hands Allan loved in a man.

“It’s pointing up, too,” Mikey said. “If I move this purse, it’s going to look like I

pitched a tent under this skirt. And it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?”

“If you didn’t have such a hot ass, I wouldn’t have an erection.”

Allan laughed. “You are the horniest bastard I’ve ever met,” he said.

Then something interesting happened. As they walked away from the café, arm in

arm, a group of middle-aged women stood up from a small table and applauded them.

Allan looked at Mikey and raised his eyebrows. Then they turned back and looked at the

cafe. There were three women clapping at one table, and four younger guys clapping at

another table.

When one of the women shouted, “Good for you, Grandma,” Mikey lifted one

arm and waved back at them. Allan just rolled his eyes, grabbed Mikey’s arm, and pulled

him down the sidewalk.

They jumped into the limo together, and the limo drove them around the block to

the trailer. Mikey showed Allan how the front of his skirt was sticking out and joked

about Allan giving him a fast “gay” hand job. Allan just rolled his eyes.

Mikey was excited to the point of being giddy about how well the scene had gone.

He smiled all the way to the trailer. He couldn’t stop talking about the spontaneous

reactions he’d received from some of the customers. He said he’d originally thought

people would be stunned, but he’d never assumed anyone would have applauded them.

When just the two of them were inside the trailer changing, while Mikey was still

raving about how well the scene had gone, someone’s cell phone rang. Allan had kicked

off his black boots and he’d left his cell phone on the makeup table. He was in the

bathroom removing the leopard thong when he heard the phone ring. Mikey picked it up

first and asked who was calling. But before Mikey even had a chance to call out Allan’s

name, Allan jumped out of the bathroom and grabbed the phone from Mikey’s hand.

He’d just removed his thong and he wasn’t wearing anything.

“Hello?”

A smooth voice said, “Hey, it’s me, Jacob. I was wondering if you could put me

up for a few hours. I’m in New York on an assignment, and I need a place to crash for a

while.”

Allan smiled and bit his bottom lip. “Sure,” he said. His voice became soft and

warm. “Just tell my doorman and he’ll let you in. I have to work this afternoon. But it’s

not a problem. I was hoping you’d call.” Allan had already alerted his doorman that this

might happen one day. He’d told the doorman to let Jacob into his apartment without

asking any questions, then tipped him with a one-hundred-dollar bill in advance.

They didn’t speak long. When they hung up, Allan stood there, staring down at

the phone, with a slap-happy, forlorn look in his eyes.

Mikey finally poked his ass and said, “You do know that you’re naked.”

Allan blinked and looked down at his body. He’d never been totally naked before

in front of Mikey. He grabbed a towel and covered his private parts. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“But that was an important call. Besides, the only thing I ever wear around you is a

thong.”

Mikey pulled off the silver wig and kicked off the high heels. “It was that drunk

again, isn’t it? The one from the restaurant a couple of weeks ago, the guy you knew in

college.” His voice was low; he spoke with slight indignation.

Allan lowered his eyebrows. “His name is Jacob. He’s the most wonderful man in

the world.” Just hearing Jacob’s deep voice brought tears to his eyes. As strong as Allan

could be in every other area of his life, he was weak when it came to Jacob Steinman.

Mikey shook his head. “Well, you’d better get dressed now. We have to go

uptown and start shooting the next scene.”

Allan ignored Mikey and slowly walked back to the bathroom. They were

shooting another scene that afternoon, with little people. Mikey wasn’t in this scene, but

he was directing it. They wanted to see how far Allan could ride a small motorcycle off a

pier into the Hudson River, compared to how far a little person could do it.

When Allan reached the bathroom, Mikey said, “Seriously, man, I hope you know

what you’re doing with this guy. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone else.”

Allan shrugged. “You’ve never seen me with anyone else. I’m like a monk.” Then

he smiled. “Stop worrying so much. I know what I’m doing this time.”

“He’d better not fuck around with you,” Mikey said. “I’ll kick his ass if he does.”

Allan looked down and laughed. Mikey was still wearing a halter top, a miniskirt,

long red fingernails, and women’s jewelry. He pointed to the miniskirt and said, “That

wouldn’t be very ladylike.”

Mikey shook his head and squared his shoulders. “I guess I should change my

clothes first, huh?”

Allan smiled. Before he went into the bathroom, he said, “Hey, you’re not a bad

kisser.”

Mickey was facing the other direction, crossing the trailer to open the door. The

makeup artist had arrived to remove his makeup. But he looked back over his shoulder

and said, “I knew you’d like it.”

Chapter Eight

The next scene they shot ran into overtime. The two little people they had hired to

compete against Allan arrived an hour late, one of the small motorcycles they’d rented

wouldn’t start, and Mikey fell off the pier and into the Hudson River by accident. He’d

been directing the scene from the edge of the pier and he’d lost his footing.

Allan was the only one in the scene who performed without any problems. And he

hated what he was doing. He barely smiled once that afternoon, but everyone else,

including the little people, were laughing and joking around. First, he didn’t like the idea

of using little people this way. It wasn’t politically correct. He wasn’t sure if the audience

would be laughing with them or at them. But the little people didn’t seem to mind. They

even suggested the scene would be funnier if they rode off the pier in their underwear.

Allan just shrugged his shoulders and sighed. Maybe he was missing something. He

knew they were being paid very well. Maybe it was all about the money. After all, money

was the only reason why he was doing the stupid TV show.

The second thing that bothered him had been building for a while. The more TV

shows he did with Mikey and the more money he made, the farther away from his dream

of becoming a respected journalist he drifted. He and Mikey had been doing these shows

for more than four years. Neither one of them had ever expected the show to be so

popular and last so long. They’d both already made enough money to live the rest of their

lives without working. Mikey was easygoing, and didn’t stammer when people asked him

what he did for a living. He told them outright, squaring his broad shoulders and looking

them in the eye.

But Allan had decided he wouldn’t tell anyone what he did for a living. And he

definitely wouldn’t mention his television career to Jacob right away. If Jacob asked,

he’d smile and say he wrote for political blogs on the Internet. This wasn’t a complete lie.

He did write for political blogs. He just didn’t get paid very well to do it.

When they wrapped up the river scene, Allan ran to the trailer to get dressed. It

was after five and he wanted to make a few stops before he went back to his apartment to

meet Jacob. When he was dressed, he didn’t even wait for the limo to drive him home.

He slapped Mikey on the back, said he’d call him in the morning, and ran down the street

to hail a taxi.

On the way home, he stopped for groceries and a bouquet of fresh flowers. He

bought two thick steaks, handmade pumpkin ravioli, ingredients for a classic Caesar salad,

and a rich, expensive flourless torte. The taxi dropped him off at the corner of his street

so he could stop and get a few good bottles of wine. While he paid for the wine, he

looked up at a large clock over the clerk’s counter. It was now after six.

He jogged down his street with bundles in both arms. When he reached his

building, he looked across the street and saw Jacob’s back. Jacob was walking in the

opposite direction, with his hands in his pockets, faster than everyone else on the street. It

almost looked as if he was trying to escape from something.

Allan’s heart stopped as he took a quick breath. Then he lifted his chin and

shouted, “Jacob, where are you going?” He could have shouted louder. There was a

hopeless, defeated drop in his voice.

Jacob continued walking. Allan shouted his name a second time.

When Jacob stopped and slowly turned around, Allan ran across the street to meet

him. His heart pounded, and his palms felt wet and slimy. He lifted his head above the

grocery bags and asked, “Where are you going? I thought you were going to wait for

me.”

Jacob smiled. “I just figured I’d head back to D.C. tonight. Thanks for letting me

crash at your place this afternoon, though. I really needed it. I haven’t slept so well in

months.”

Allan’s face contorted and his voice went up an octave. “But you can’t leave now.

You have to stay for dinner. I insist. I bought steaks, and flourless torte, and handmade

pumpkin ravioli with real pumpkin. You just can’t leave. I went out of my way to do this

for you.” He didn’t care if it sounded like he was begging Jacob to stay. He wasn’t going

to let him get away without a fight.

Jacob looked down at his shoes and rubbed his jaw. “I’d really rather just get back

to D.C. tonight. I’m up for a new job and I’m being interviewed the day after tomorrow.

But thanks for asking.” He took a few steps back, as if he was afraid to get too close to

Allan.

Allan frowned. “Then just stay for dinner,” he said. “You can take a later train.

You just can’t walk away. We haven’t seen each other in years.”

When Allan frowned, Jacob looked into his eyes and smiled. He hesitated; he

shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stay for dinner. I’ve never had

handmade ravioli with real pumpkin. Did you make the ravioli yourself?”

Allan’s eyes lit up and he smiled. “What do I look like, Julia Child? I bought it

homemade.” He handed Jacob the grocery bag with the flowers and said, “Here, you take

this one. It’s heavy and my arms are tired.” Then he grabbed Jacob’s arm and pulled him

back across the street toward his building. “You’ll love the ravioli, trust me. You’ve

never tasted anything like it. Once you try them, you’ll never go back to the other kind.”

He’d never even tasted the ravioli. He babbled. His voice was high, he spoke too

fast, and he didn’t pause between sentences. He didn’t want Jacob to change his mind, so

he figured he’d keep talking. And he still wasn’t sure if Jacob was staying because he

really wanted to stay, or because he felt sorry for Allan.

When they were up in the apartment, it took a few glasses of wine to make Jacob

stop pacing back and forth. But he finally lowered his defenses and sat down at the table.

During dinner, they spoke about old times and laughed about how fanatical Allan had

been about politics. Allan just smiled and held his tongue. He didn’t want Jacob to know

he was even more passionate about politics now than he’d ever been, especially when it

came to gay rights and equality. The only thing he wanted to do that night was get into

Jacob’s pants. And he didn’t want anything to ruin his plans.

Jacob finished his entire dinner fast. He said he hadn’t eaten since the night before.

When Jacob noticed Allan was just picking and shoving the food on his plate, he lowered

his eyebrows and asked, “Aren’t you hungry?” Then he leaned forward with his knife and

fork in his hands, and stared at Allan’s full plate of food.

Allan had eaten most of his salad, but he’d only taken a few bites of steak and

he’d eaten one pumpkin ravioli. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I had a large

lunch,” he said. “I thought I’d be hungrier than I am.” He was lying. He hadn’t eaten

anything all day. He was so starved he was ready to eat his napkin. If he’d been alone that

night, he would have eaten both steaks, all the ravioli, and the entire flourless torte. In the

morning, he would have gone for a five-mile run to burn off the calories. He didn’t want

to eat that night, because he had other plans. He wanted to be alert and awake. He wanted

to look and feel thin so that when he removed his clothes and straddled Jacob’s hips, he’d

feel sexy. For Allan, having sex was as mental as it was physical. If he’d eaten a huge,

heavy dinner, he wouldn’t have felt sexy. He would have felt full and sloppy and

unattractive.

But Jacob smiled and nodded at Allan’s plate. He reached across the table for it

and said, “Well, I may as well eat yours. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

Allan laughed and lowered his eyelids. “Go ahead,” he said. “You’re a growing

boy.” He’d always enjoyed feeding people. In college, he’d loved bringing Jacob lunch in

his dorm room. He’d watch him eat two huge sandwiches all by himself. Allan even did

this with Mikey. When he and Mikey went out to dinner, Allan usually left half of his

food on his plate just so he could watch Mikey wolf it down when he was finished with

his own meal.

After dinner, Allan suggested they sit in the living room area in front of the

fireplace. The air conditioner was on full throttle, but that didn’t matter. There was

already a fire building between Allan’s legs. However, Jacob looked at his watch and

frowned. He yawned and said he had to get to the train station.

Allan smiled and poured him another glass of wine. He led him to the black

leather sofa and told him to sit. “You have plenty of time. You can’t just eat and run. You

should sit and relax for a few minutes. It’s good for the digestion.”

Then he got down on his knees and pulled off Jacob’s shoes and socks. “Put your

feet up on the coffee table,” he said, “and I’ll give you a foot massage.” Allan’s body was

burning up. He wanted to bury his face between Jacob’s legs.

Jacob’s eyes were already glossy from the wine. He hesitated for a second, then

lifted his feet up and rested them on top of the glass coffee table. By the way he hesitated,

frowning in Allan’s direction, it was almost as if he was afraid to put his feet up. When

Allan squeezed his left foot, he gulped down the wine, closed his eyes, and rested his

head on the back of the sofa, submitting completely to Allan’s passive-aggressive

suggestions.

Allan lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head sideways. He knew he had Jacob right

where he wanted him. He ran his fingertips across Jacob’s instep and whispered, “I’ll be

right back. I have some soothing lotion in the bedroom. I’ll rub it all over your feet.

You’ll love it.”

He got up fast and went to the bedroom. He grabbed a bottle of lotion on top of

his dresser and tossed it on the bed. Then he removed all his clothes and put on a black

robe that had been hanging behind the door. It was a short, silky robe, and so sheer it was

transparent when he stood in front of a lamp. When he bent down to get the lotion off the

bed, the back of the robe went up and exposed half of his ass. He looked at himself in the

mirror and smiled. Then he went to the nightstand and reached for a condom in the top

drawer.

When he walked back into the living room, Jacob stared at him. He looked at

Allan’s smooth, firm legs first, then his head slowly went up to Allan’s face. He was still

holding the empty wine glass, and there was a startled look in his eyes. “You changed

your clothes,” he said awkwardly.

Allan shrugged his shoulders and kneeled down on front of him. “I was hot,” he

said. “I wanted to be more comfortable while I work on your feet.” He opened the lotion

and squeezed a few drops into the palm of his right hand. “You just sit back and close

your eyes. You’ll like this.” Then he grabbed Jacob’s right foot with both hands and

started smearing lotion everywhere. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

With his heart beating so fast, it was hard to massage Jacob’s feet with easy,

gentle strokes. But he bit the inside of this cheek, concentrated hard on using a light touch,

and worked both large feet until Jacob was moaning on the sofa. Just touching Jacob’s

skin made his chest heave. Just being this close to Jacob’s strong football player body

caused his penis to grow stiff beneath the short black robe.

A half-hour later, he was still on his knees, squeezing Jacob’s toes with his fingers.

When he looked up at Jacob’s face, Jacob’s eyes were closed and his hands were behind

his head. When he looked between Jacob’s legs, he saw the distinct outline of Jacob’s

fully erect cock pointing up to the waistband of his pants. Then he smiled, leaned forward

in the opposite direction, and reached for Jacob’s zipper.

Jacob opened his eyes and stared at him. But he didn’t sit up and he didn’t remove

his hands from behind his head. His head jerked back. “What are you doing?”

Allan pulled down Jacob’s zipper and slipped his hand inside his pants. He

grabbed Jacob’s cock and whispered, “We can’t let this go to waste. That would be a

crime.”

Jacob spread his legs wider and closed his eyes, clearly inviting Allan to play with

his dick. “You’re a bad boy,” Jacob whispered. “I have this feeling you’ve been trying to

seduce me all night, and my intentions were harmless.” However, he didn’t ask Allan to

let go of his dick.

Allan pulled Jacob’s cock out of his pants and said, “You have no idea how bad I

am.”

When he wrapped his lips around the head of Jacob’s dick, he was gentle. He

sucked just the head, with light pressure. Jacob spread his legs even wider and moaned,

“Ah yeah, that feels so good.” Allan pressed his tongue against the shaft and lowered his

face all the way down to Jacob’s crotch. The cock slipped into his wet mouth so gently

that when his lips were pressed against Jacob’s zipper and the head of Jacob’s dick was at

the back of his throat, Jacob’s right leg twitched for a moment.

Jacob grabbed the top of Allan’s head with one hand and pressed down even

harder. He moaned and said, “I remember this very well. You give great head.”

Allan took a quick breath through his nose and pressed his tongue harder on

Jacob’s shaft, then his cheeks indented and he started sucking with more pressure. His

head went up and down; his lips puckered and drops of saliva slid from the corners of his

mouth. The noises he made while he sucked were soft, with easy swishes and quiet snaps,

caused by the intense suction he was creating. Allan was a neat cocksucker. He didn’t

like to hear loud sucks and sloppy wet slurps. As far as he was concerned, there was

nothing tender or romantic about being a slob in bed.

And if he was too careful about being sloppy, Jacob created the perfect balance.

While Allan continued to suck quietly, Jacob started talking dirty. It wasn’t offensive or

raunchy—just harmless naughty talk. “Yeah, suck that big dick, baby. I know how much

you love big dick. Make it go off, baby. Damn, you have sweet, hot lips.”

Although Allan would never have replied aloud to any of his dirty comments, he

didn’t have a problem following Jacob’s orders. When Jacob told him to suck harder, he

sucked so hard his jaw ached. If Jacob told him to lick pre-come off the head, Allan

lapped the clear juice up with the tip of his tongue and swallowed with a gulp. There was

nothing he wouldn’t do for Jacob, in or out of bed, and he wanted to prove it to him.

After about an hour of slow, intense sucking, Jacob’s feet started to move back

and forth. Allan knew that this meant Jacob was close to climax. So he stopped sucking

and reached into the bathrobe pocket for the condom. He removed it from the package

and covered Jacob’s dick before Jacob even knew what was happening. Then he stood up

and removed the robe. He untied the belt and let it fall from his shoulders. His own dick

was hard. He stretched his arms, arched his back, and spread his soft legs.

Jacob opened his eyes and said, “Don’t you want me to at least take off my

pants?”

Allan lifted his left leg over Jacob’s legs and climbed up on his lap. He straddled

his dick and said, “I don’t want you to move. I just want you to lie back and close your

eyes.” He grabbed Jacob’s shoulder with his left hand and reached for Jacob’s dick with

his right hand so he could guide it up between his legs. The fact that he was naked and

Jacob was still fully clothed made this feel sexier. And he didn’t want to ruin the moment

by having Jacob remove his pants. He knew Jacob was ready to come, and he wanted it to

happen fast while Jacob was inside his body.

“What’s this?” Jacob asked, reaching down to touch the small silver rings in

Allan’s pierced nipples.

Allan closed his eyes and sighed, because Jacob had large fingers and Allan’s

nipples had always been overly sensitive. “A friend of mine talked me into getting it

done,” he said.

“Did it hurt?” Jacob asked.

Allan shook his head no, then spread his legs wider and started grinding his ass

against Jacob’s erection.

When the head of Jacob’s penis reached the opening of his anus, he arched his

back and slowly took it into his body. He focused on relaxing his muscles and making his

body receptive to the blunt intrusion. But even though he wanted this more than anything,

there was still pain. It shot from his anus to the top of his head, making his back teeth

pulse. He closed his eyes. He squeezed Jacob’s shoulder and waited for a moment. When

Jacob’s dick was halfway up his ass, he sat down hard, clenched his fists, and held his

breath without making one single awkward sound. He didn’t want Jacob to know how

much it hurt. He wanted Jacob to think he was pleasing him.

Jacob moaned and whispered more harmless dirty talk. “Ah yeah, you’re still as

tight as you always were. I swear you have the tightest hole in the universe. It feels like

just yesterday you were an innocent little virgin and I fucked you for the first time.”

Allan gasped and threw his head back as if he were in ecstasy. But he wasn’t. His

back teeth were still pulsing and his hole was still aching. He pressed his palms on

Jacob’s strong chest and whispered, “You feel so huge. I could sit on your lap like this

for the rest of my life.”

“You like it huge, don’t you?” Jacob whispered. “You love my big thick dick.”

Then the pain finally subsided. It quickly transformed into the feeling of fullness

that Allan had been waiting to feel. It rushed through his body with a wave of relief that

made him sigh out loud. He nodded yes, with his eyes closed, and said, “Yes, Jacob, I

love your dick. Give it to me. I want it all.” He wanted to sound just as dirty as Jacob, but

he thought it came out a bit too wooden and self-conscious.

Allan began rocking his hips. He pressed on Jacob’s chest and rode up and down

on his dick. The little silver nipple rings danced in unison. Allan’s hole was so naturally

tight, and Jacob was so close to climax, it didn’t take long to get him off. A few minutes

later, Jacob squeezed Allan’s hips and grumbled a few naughty comments about Allan’s

tight ass and his pierced nipples. He guided Allan’s hips up and down with a strong grip

and bucked his hips upward. Allan reached for his own erection and started jerking off.

Then Jacob grunted. His face turned red and his eyebrows furrowed. He slammed into

Allan’s ass and climaxed into the condom. Allan was so aroused by then, with Jacob’s

big dick up his ass and Jacob’s strong fingers squeezing his hips, he exploded all over

Jacob’s white dress shirt at the same time. A second after he climaxed the first time, he

closed his eyes and climaxed again. It wasn’t as intense as the first time, and there wasn’t

as much come. But his balls actually jumped up into his scrotum and he had to reach

down to push them back into place.

This was the first time he’d ever experienced a double orgasm. He’d heard about

them, but he’d never fully believed they existed. He opened his eyes and looked at Jacob.

Jacob’s hands were now wrapped around his waist and he was rubbing the small of

Allan’s back.

Allan took a breath and said, “That was outrageous. I actually came twice. That’s

never happened before.” He reached forward and ran the side of his hand down Jacob’s

face. Jacob hadn’t shaved since that morning and his rough dark stubble was already

beginning to appear.

Jacob lifted his right arm and placed his hand on the back of Allan’s head. “You

are still the sexist little fucker I’ve ever met. I don’t know how you do it, but you make

me crazy.” Then he pressed hard on Allan’s head and pulled Allan’s lips to his. He

inserted his tongue into Allan’s mouth and kissed him so hard Allan almost lost his

balance and fell off his lap.

Chapter Nine

On Saturday morning around eight, the phone rang and Allan jumped out of bed

to answer it. It was Allan’s cell phone, playing the theme song from his favorite retro TV

show, Maude. He’d left it in the living room the night before. Jacob was still sound

asleep in Allan’s bed, and when he heard the musical ringtone, he grunted a few times,

turned over on his side, and covered his head with a pillow.

Allan ran into the living room and grabbed the phone. Then he took it into the

small kitchen so he wouldn’t disturb Jacob. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Mikey said. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go for a run this

morning.”

“You always say you hate running with me,” Allan said. He leaned into the sink

and spoke in a stage whisper before frowning and pressing his lips together. Mikey never

called and asked him to go running, partly because Allan ran faster than he did, and partly

because Mikey liked running at night and Allan liked running in the morning.

“I never say that, buddy.” Mikey’s voice was animated.

“What are you up to? You never call me this early on a Saturday,” Allan said.

Typically, Mikey was in bed with a good-looking woman with unusually large breasts.

“Can’t a guy ask his buddy if he wants to go for a run without getting the third

degree?” He sounded defensive now, as if his feelings had been hurt.

“Can I call you back later today?” Allan asked. “I’m not alone.”

“Is the drunk dude there?” Mikey asked. “I’m coming over with bagels so I can

meet this guy.”

Allan sighed and rolled his eyes. Though they were both strong alpha men, Mikey

and Jacob were opposites in many ways. Mikey was a rough-looking, poorly dressed

straight guy with sagging jeans, large gold chains around his neck, and way too much

money. He picked up women in bars, drank beer until he couldn’t walk, and spit on

sidewalks in broad daylight. And Jacob was neat and conservative, with a WASPy-

looking haircut, prefect grammar, and polo shirts. The only jewelry he wore was a small

signature ring on his pinky finger, and he’d rather choke to death than spit on the

sidewalk. Allan knew they’d meet eventually. Mikey was his best friend. But it was still

too soon.

“Yes, Jacob is here, and no, you’re not coming over with anything,” Allan said. “I

have to go. I’ll call you back later.”

“Wait. Are you okay?” Mikey asked.

Allan rolled his eyes again. “I’m fine.” Mikey always thought he was so helpless

and needy.

“Why can’t I meet this guy?”

“Because I haven’t told him what I do for a living.”

Mikey laughed. “So what? You never tell anyone what you do for a living. The

fact that Acer is anonymous only makes the show more popular and Acer more

mysterious. I’m coming over there right now. This is bullshit.”

“Don’t you dare,” Allan said. “Now, I’m letting you know I’m hanging up and I’ll

call back later. Goodbye.” Then he hung up and turned off the power so the phone

wouldn’t ring again.

When he went back to the bedroom, Jacob was still asleep. He climbed into bed,

snuggled up to Jacob’s back, and ran his fingertips down his bicep. Jacob turned around

fast and kissed Allan on the lips, then reached down and grabbed the bottom of Allan’s

ass.

“Give me a condom and roll over,” Jacob said. “I have to go back to D.C. today,

and I want to get inside you a few more times before I leave.”

Allan was on his back, limp and helpless beneath Jacob’s body. He put his arms

around Jacob’s shoulders and spread his legs wider. Jacob’s erection was pressing into

his body and rubbing against his skin. He had been wondering what he’d prepare for

breakfast. He hadn’t expected to have sex so soon. But he wasn’t going to turn Jacob

down, so he kissed him and stretched his arm toward the top drawer of the nightstand.

When he handed Jacob the condom and Jacob rolled to the side to cover his dick, he

flipped over on his stomach. He remembered this had been one of Jacob’s favorite

positions in college.

When the condom was secure, Jacob climbed onto Allan’s back and mounted

him with all his weight. Jacob looked long-boned and lanky, but he was a muscular guy

and he wasn’t light. When he went inside Allan’s body, there was still some pain, but not

as much as there had been the night before. Allan took him with ease this time, and the

pain only lasted for a moment. This was a good thing for Allan, because Jacob was

hungry for ass that morning. He pounded Allan so hard he knocked the covers off the bed,

and the bed rocked so much it slid to the side and knocked a lamp off the nightstand.

A few minutes later, they came together. Allan was so excited he only had to

touch his own dick with the tips of his fingers to climax. It wasn’t a double orgasm this

time, but it was just as intense as it always was with Jacob. It rendered his entire body

with calm, post-orgasmic sensations. Jacob must have had a strong climax, too. He

moaned so loud it sounded like he was in serious pain, then fell on top of Allan’s body,

huffing and puffing, and remained dead still for the next five minutes.

When Jacob finally pulled out and rolled over on his back, Allan stretched a few

times. The backs of his legs were sore from the pounding he’d taken and he was hoping

there wouldn’t be bruises because he had to shoot a scene in his thong on Monday. He

climbed out of bed, put on the short black robe, and leaned forward so he could kiss

Jacob.

“That was wonderful,” Allan said. “I’m going to make you breakfast in bed. I’ll

be back in a few minutes.” He’d never actually made breakfast in bed for anyone. It

always seemed like such a romantic thing to do.

He didn’t have much food in the house. But with a few basic ingredients, he

managed to create a breakfast that looked as if it had been prepared by the finest

restaurant in New York. On a silver tray he’d found at a flea market downtown, he

arranged a fluffy cheese omelet, dinner rolls fried in butter, steaming black coffee, and a

small glass of cranberry juice. It wasn’t much, but he used his best linen napkins, his best

china, and a small crystal vase with one long-stemmed rose he’d pulled out of the

centerpiece on the dining table. One of the things he loved most about Jacob was the fact

that Jacob had always been so neat and tailored and refined. Though he didn’t come from

old money, he looked like he did. He paid attention to the simple details that passed other

men by (Mikey wouldn’t have understood). Even his handmade dress shirts were in the

best of taste, with two small, elegant, embroidered initials on the cuffs. So Allan only

wanted to serve him the best.

When Allan returned to the bedroom, Jacob was sitting up in bed, going through a

small stack of magazines. Allan placed the tray at the foot of the bed and smiled. He’d

forgotten about the magazines. They’d been stacked on a chair in the corner. The day

after he’d run into Jacob in the restaurant, he’d gone out searching for old issues of all the

magazines for which Jacob had written articles.

Jacob smiled and looked up at him. “Have you actually read all these articles I’ve

written?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as if he was surprised to find out that

anyone had read his articles.

Allan sat down on the edge of the bed and shrugged his shoulders. “I read them

all twice,” he said. “They’re very good. You’re very talented, Jacob.”

Jacob’s face remained blank. He tipped his head to the side. “That’s what you

think. You and the two other people who have read them.”

Allan furrowed his brow, then leaned forward and looked into Jacob’s eyes. “I’m

absolutely serious,” he said. “You’re very talented, Jacob. I enjoyed them all.” Then he

bit his bottom lip and stared down at the bed. “As far as I can see, there’s only one

problem.”

“What’s wrong with them?” There was a defensive, almost helpless edge in his

deep voice now.

Allan knew better than anyone that most journalists and writers didn’t take

criticism well, and he didn’t want Jacob to think he was berating his work. So he leaned

forward and smiled. In a soft, gentle voice, he said, “You just don’t sound passionate

enough. You don’t take a stand on anything...ever. Sometimes it only takes one sentence

to do that.”

Jacob stared at him for a moment. He nodded a few times and said, “You’re right.

I tend to play it safe. I don’t like to ruffle anyone’s feathers too much. And I’m not very

passionate about politics and issues.”

“But don’t you see that’s a mistake?” Allan said. “You have to ruffle a few

feathers once in a while. If no one ever ruffled any feathers, nothing would ever get done

and nothing would ever change. From what I’ve read in these magazines, you have a

strong, solid voice, Jacob. But you’re hesitating.”

Jacob smiled and reached for a fork. Before he cut into a section of the omelet, he

said, “I’m afraid I might have to save that voice for a while. I’m going on an interview

next week for a job as a television host. It’s only a temporary position. But if I get the job,

there won’t be much time for writing.”

“Television?” Allan asked. His heart sank and his shoulders slumped. “But you’re

much too talented a writer to waste your life doing television.” And he was speaking from

experience. He’d been doing his television show for so long he felt almost brain dead. If

he hadn’t been able to blog and network about his political convictions, he would have

lost his mind.

Jacob swallowed and shrugged his shoulders. “Thanks for the compliment. But

this job is just too good to ignore. It’s with the XN Network, and I’ll be hosting The XN

Morning Show with two other people. One of their hosts is taking time off to have a baby,

and they need a replacement fast. It’s temporary, but I’m hoping it leads to other

opportunities.”

“The XN Network!” Allan shouted. He pressed his palm to his throat and gulped.

He was glad he hadn’t reached for his coffee yet, because if he had it would have been all

over the bed. “That’s the most conservative, anti-gay network on the planet.” He couldn’t

get past this. He leaned forward and grabbed Jacob’s hand. “Please tell me you’re joking.

You can’t be serious.”

“Calm down,” Jacob said, laughing at how seriously Allan had reacted. “If I get

the job, I won’t be doing political stuff. I’ll be hosting a harmless morning news show on

Saturdays and Sundays. Don’t be so extreme about everything. It’s all good.”

Allan lowered his eyes to the bed. He remembered these were the same words that

Jacob had used when they were in college and Allan would get upset about something.

He’d always said Allan was too “extreme,” and that he got all worked up over too many

little things. At the time, they’d been arguing over the war in Iraq. Allan didn’t think the

war was a little thing.

Jacob finished the omelet in three bites and said, “Besides, you know I’ve never

been as political as you are.”

Allan looked up and shrugged. “But you’re gay,” he said. “How can you not be

political right now? They won’t let us into the military if we are open about our sexuality,

they won’t let us get legally married, and they won’t recognize us as equal citizens of this

country. The list is endless. And I’m not even going to get into other issues this country is

facing that affect everyone, not just gays.”

Jacob drank some cranberry juice. He pressed his lips together and pointed to a

photo of Senator John Amos that Allan had hanging near the window. Senator Amos

hadn’t even begun his presidential campaign when Allan had framed his photo and hung

it on a wall. “There’s a perfect example of why I don’t get into politics. The man you

want to be our next president won’t even mention equal rights for gays, let alone support

gay marriage. And he’s supposed to be as liberal as you can get. Politics is all about who

gives the best speech and who knows the right people with the most money.”

Allan shot back fast. “He will fight for us. He’s doing the best he can right now

with many important issues. And at least he’s not coming out negatively about gays like

everyone on the XN Network.” He truly believed Senator Amos was the only good thing

that had happened to this country since Eleanor Roosevelt.

Evidently, Jacob didn’t share his passion about Amos. He sighed and lifted his

arms up in surrender. “Why does the XN Network bother you so much?”

“Why doesn’t it bother you?”

“Look,” Jacob said, “it’s not like I’m going to become a card-carrying Republican

right-wing conservative just because I get a job at the XN Network. We both still believe

in the same things, it’s just that I’m not as extreme as you are. The money that comes

with this job is too good to ignore, and I’d like to enjoy life for a while. Is there anything

wrong with enjoying life?”

“I just hate to see you waste your talents. With a strong, vibrant voice like yours,

you could really make a difference in the LGBT community, and in the world.” Allan

hoped flattery, ego-boosting, and logic might work. In truth, he could not be objective

about Jacob’s writing, or anything else regarding Jacob. He was much too deeply in love

with him to see any flaws. He knew he couldn’t continue to argue the point. Though his

job with The Naughty Boiz hadn’t been politically irresponsible, and it was nothing like

working for the right-wing, anti-gay XN Network, he’d done it for the money.

“I can’t do it writing magazine articles for pennies,” Jacob said. Then he reached

forward and slipped his hand under Allan’s robe. He squeezed Allan’s thigh and said,

“And, best of all, if I do get this job, I’ll be based in New York. I’ll see you all the time.”

Suddenly, Allan stopped thinking about politics and issues. He’d been worried

about the fact that Jacob lived in D.C. and he lived in New York. He moved to the middle

of the bed so Jacob could put his hand up between his legs, then smiled and said, “I’d like

you being in New York all the time. But there’s just one thing.” His voice rose and he

placed both palms on Jacob’s chest. “If you get this job, you have to promise me you

won’t stop writing. You have too much talent to stop.”

Jacob grabbed his ass and said, “Okay, I promise. Now get rid of this tray and get

back into bed. I’m not leaving for D.C. until later this afternoon. We can spend most of

the day in bed hugging and kissing and doing all kinds of bad things to each other.”

Allan kicked the tray off the bed. It landed on the floor with a loud crash. He

cracked two of his best dishes, spilled coffee everywhere, and came close to losing a

crystal vase that had been a gift from his mother. He only cared about spending the day in

bed with Jacob. He’d buy new china and clean up the coffee later. If the stain didn’t come

out of the rug, he’d buy a new one. Jacob laughed and shook his head.

“Why are you laughing?” Allan asked. He was ready to throw his legs over

Jacob’s shoulders. He started laughing, too. But he wasn’t sure why.

Jacob climbed on top of him and lowered him onto his back. “This is what I was

talking about. You’re always so fucking extreme. Most people would have lifted the tray

up and gently placed it on the floor.”

Allan wrapped his naked legs around Jacob’s waist and arched his back. He put

his arms around Jacob’s shoulders and said, without missing a beat, “Most people don’t

have a man like you on top of them.”

“Will you promise me you’ll try to be less extreme?”

“I’ll try. I swear I will.” Then Allan reached down and grabbed Jacob’s balls. He

gently massaged them and nodded yes.

Chapter Ten

In the months that followed, Jacob landed the new job as a host on the Morning

Show on the XN Network. He also moved to New York and into Allan’s apartment. Allan

started working for a new political blog geared toward issues that affected the LGBT

community. He didn’t get paid much to do it, but at least he was now working as a paid

journalist for causes in which he loved and believed.

Living together was easy at first. When they weren’t working, they spent most of

their time in bed playing with each other. On weekends, they took long walks through

Manhattan and went horseback riding in Central Park. Sometimes they were so busy

making love they skipped meals. By the time they realized they’d forgotten to eat, they

were so famished they went downtown to a little Italian restaurant in the Village and

stuffed themselves until they could barely breathe. Then they’d walk back to Turtle Bay,

to Allan’s little apartment, and start making love all over again.

Allan didn’t mention his secret life as Acer on The Naughty Boiz, and he kept

Mikey away from Jacob. But he did discuss his new blogging job about politics. He never

flashed his money around, so Jacob just assumed he was another low-paid writer

struggling to make ends meet. One night Allan spoke so long and with such passion about

gay marriage and equal rights, the only way Jacob could stop him from talking was to

shove his dick into Allan’s mouth. Jacob stood up from the sofa in the middle of Allan’s

sentence about the definition of marriage, unzipped his jeans, and smacked Allan in the

face with his cock. The minute his dick hit Allan’s lips, Allan opened his mouth and

started sucking.

A warm spring became a calm, smooth summer. The weather was unusually dry

and crisp for New York that year. Allan’s hours with the TV show were sporadic and

Jacob was so busy with his new job on weekdays he never asked where Allan was going.

The only thing they didn’t discuss in detail was Jacob’s job. Allan was proud of the fact

that Jacob had obtained a high-profile, well-paid position. He believed in Jacob and was

glad he was successful. But it twisted his stomach in knots to think that Jacob was on the

XN Network. Jacob seemed to know this, and he never discussed his work at home with

Allan.

By September, Allan was finding it difficult not to talk about Jacob’s job. He

watched a segment of Jacob’s show one morning with his fists clenched so hard his

knuckles turned white. He threw the TV remote so hard at the wall it split in half. Jacob

was interviewing a conservative senator from the South, and the senator was expressing

his right-wing opinions about how important it was to keep the definition of marriage

intact: as between one man and one woman. Jacob just smiled and continued asking

questions, remaining professional and objective (Jacob was always so objective). He

didn’t become outraged and he didn’t challenge the senator with his own beliefs as a gay

man. Allan didn’t understand it. He would have had his hands wrapped around the

senator’s throat if he’d been in the studio.

Allan didn’t even watch the end of the interview. He switched off the TV,

grabbed his leopard-print thong, and stormed out of the apartment to shoot a scene for his

own TV show. They were shooting a physical scene that morning in a secluded wooded

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area of New Jersey. Mikey had come up with the ridiculous, outrageous idea of building

a huge human slingshot between two trees. Mikey and Allan were both in the scene,

along with three little people. The basic premise of the scene was to send Mikey and

Allan flying through the air, then send the little people flying to see if they would go

farther because they were so much smaller. But the premise, as with all their other pranks,

wasn’t important. It was the absurdity that counted.

Allan had to take a taxi to New Jersey, because Mikey had gone to the location in

the limo much earlier to set up the sling shot with the crew. When the driver dropped

Allan off at the wooded area, he climbed out of the cab with a deep scowl on his face.

Everyone was waiting for him. The crew had the human slingshot set up between the

trees, the three little people were standing around in their underwear, and Mikey was

sipping on a cup of coffee with his usual unaffected expression. Mikey was trying to act

cool, but Allan knew how much Mikey despised doing physical scenes himself. Nothing

physical bothered Allan, but Mikey had little phobias about certain things.

Allan crossed to where they were gathered and stared at the little people. Then he

looked at Mikey and said, “Is that what you’re wearing for the scene?” Mikey was

wearing loose “sagger” jeans (he was the original sagger boy) and a tight black T-shirt.

His obnoxious jeans were so loose Allan could see the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Allan also knew these were his favorite jeans. Mikey referred to them as his good luck

jeans, and he always wore them when he felt intimidated about doing a scene. And Allan

knew the slingshot was freaking Mikey out that morning.

Mikey looked back at Allan with a dumb expression. He looked like a donkey

stuck in the mud. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He seemed to know where

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Allan was going, and he didn’t want the crew and the little guys to know about his fears

or his lucky jeans.

Allan pulled the leopard thong out of his back pocket and swung it back and forth.

“I’m doing this scene practically naked, and the other guys are wearing their underwear.

It just occurred to me that you always do these scenes fully dressed. Why don’t you ever

do any scenes in your underwear?” Allan knew Mikey depended on his jeans for good

luck and emotional support. He was mad at Jacob and he was taking it out on Mikey.

When the little guys heard him ask Jacob this question, they stepped back and looked up

at the sky.

Mikey shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I just always figured no one would

want to see me in my underwear, is all. There’s no special reason.” Then he smiled at

Allan and said, “Besides, you have a much better body than I have. It’s your great body

that people want to see, not mine.”

Allan gave him a look. He almost smiled, because he knew Mikey was now

giving him a line of bullshit so he’d back down and drop the subject. Mikey could

bullshit everyone else with flattery, but Allan knew him much too well.

So Allan looked him in the eye and said, “I think this scene would be much

funnier if you did it in your underwear, too. You’re a hot guy. I think the viewers would

love it.” Allan was tired of being the only one on The Naughty Boiz who did scenes

practically naked. The least Mikey could do was shoot a scene in his underwear once in a

while. It was time for him to get over his fears and to stop depending on a pair of jeans

for good luck.

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Mikey blinked and looked down at his sagging jeans. “Ah well,” he said. “I don’t

know about that.”

“C’mon,” Allan said, pressing the issue. “Do this one scene in just your boxer

shorts, and I’ll never mention it again. You can wear your boots if it makes you feel

better.” Allan knew he was being vicious. But everyone else made fools out of

themselves on television in their underwear, except for Mikey. “Unless you’re afraid to

do it for some reason.” He knew this would really piss Mikey off. And he knew Mikey

would never show weakness, even if he was terrified, in front of his crew.

When Allan mentioned the word fear, Mikey pressed his lips together and looked

into Allan’s eyes. He stared at him for a moment without saying a word, then pulled off

his black T-shirt. His chest was large, and his abdomen was tight and ripped. “How’s

that?” Mikey asked.

Allan raised his eyebrows. He always forgot about what a great body Mikey had.

“It’s good for a start. Now lose the pants.” He was taking too much pleasure in this and

he wasn’t sure why.

Mikey smiled, as if he knew Allan was challenging him in front of everyone on

purpose. So he unfastened his belt, pulled down his zipper, and stepped out of his pants.

Mikey had nothing to be ashamed about. He was wearing tight white boxer briefs that

morning. The bulge between his legs rounded out and defined his genitals. His legs were

sturdy and slightly bowed, with an even layer of brown hair that looked a fuzzy in a cute

way.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” Mikey asked. “Are you happy now? I’m in my

underwear.”

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Allan smiled. He had to give him credit for not backing down in front of everyone.

After all, Mikey was the boss and he could have told Allan to go to hell.

“Well, your knees are a little knobby-looking,” he said. “But I think the scene will

be much better now. The viewers will love it.” Then Allan looked at the little guys and

asked, “Don’t you guys agree?”

The little guys nodded and cheered for Mikey’s underwear.

Mikey adjusted his balls—a fast, innocuous tug—and said, “Okay, now that I’m

in my underwear, you’d better get changed, too. You’re going to be the first one who gets

shot into the air.”

Allan smiled. “No problem. I’ll be right back.” Actually, this was the type of

scene that Allan loved shooting. He lived for the rush of adrenaline. And for some

strange reason, now that he’d persuaded Mikey to do the scene in his underwear, Allan

wasn’t as mad at Jacob anymore.

So on his way to the limo, where he was going to put on the thong, he walked past

Mikey and whispered, “I was lying about your knees.”

“Huh?”

“I was lying about your knees,” Allan said, wondering why straight guys were

always so absolutely clueless. “They aren’t knobby at all. Actually, you have great legs.

Very sexy.” Then he reached down and patted Mikey’s backside.

Mikey looked at him and smiled. “You’re a nasty little gay boy today, aren’t you?

Did Mr. Perfect do something wrong this morning? And now I’m paying for it?” This had

happened before. Allan would get mad at something political, then take out his

frustrations on Mikey.

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“Don’t even ask,” Allan said. “I’ll just get upset all over again.” Then he looked

down at Mikey’s body and took a quick breath. For a straight guy who drank too much,

didn’t care about what he ate, and never shaved his legs, Mikey was well put together. He

fake-punched Mikey in the stomach and said, “But thanks for doing this scene in your

underwear. I know how much you dislike it. I owe you one, and I’m really sorry if I

sounded mad before. I was way out of line.”

Mikey laughed. “I’ll figure out a way to get even.”

A few minutes later, Allan stepped out of the limo in his thong and ski mask and

walked over to the slingshot. He backed into the rubber slingshot material, four assistants

pulled him back between the trees as far as they could, and then they let him go. He

sailed through the air, with his legs moving back and forth as if he were running, and

landed in a lake. His heart was racing, he couldn’t stop laughing, and the rush almost

gave him an erection. Though he hated to admit it out loud, this was one of the things he

loved most about his job: the thrill of danger. He was fearless about doing these physical

scenes. He should have been terrified. Any normal person would have been, but not

Allan—the fears that bothered other people usually didn’t bother him. If they’d asked

him to re-shoot the scene, he would have done it gladly.

They got it all on camera in one take, and there was someone waiting in the lake

to mark the spot where he’d landed. When he stepped out of the lake, dripping with water,

one of the little guys pointed to Allan’s crotch, covered his mouth, and started laughing.

Allan’s dick had fallen out of the thong.

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Mikey pointed. “Hey buddy, you’d better put your junk back into the thong. This

isn’t an X-rated TV show.” He laughed. “You good-looking gay guys are always

showing off.”

Allan reached down and put his dick and balls back into the thong. He knew

they’d never show this on TV, so he wasn’t worried. He shrugged. “And you macho

straight guys are always getting too upset about it.”

After that, they shot the little guys into the lake. Surprisingly, none of them went

as far as Allan had gone. They seemed to like flying into the lake, too. While they were

airborne, and their short legs jiggled back and forth, they screamed with laughter. One of

them laughed so hard he rolled around on the grass when he came out of the water. For

the most part, everyone seemed to have fun that afternoon. Allan had a feeling this was

going to be one of their funnier shows because it was so natural and unplanned.

The only person who wasn’t thrilled about being part of the human slingshot was

Mikey. He walked up to the elastic material with slow steps. He examined the trees to

make sure the elastic had been fastened tightly. He looked out toward the lake and rubbed

his jaw a few times. Allan knew Mikey’s biggest fear of all was not being in control. He

didn’t have a problem doing stunts and pranks where he had full control—like eating

bugs—but not having control freaked him out.

When Allan saw his hands were shaking a little, he walked up to him and quietly

said, “You don’t have to do this. We have enough great shots to wrap the scene up as it

is.” He was also feeling bad about the way he’d confronted Mikey about doing the scene

in his underwear.

“No, buddy,” Mikey said. “I’m fine. I can do this. It’s nothing.”

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“At least put on your lucky jeans,” Allan said. “You’ll feel more confident.”

“I don’t need jeans to be lucky,” Mikey said. “I’m cool. I can do this.”

Allan knew Mikey’s ego would suffer if he didn’t do it, so he smiled. “Of course

you can. Actually, I had a blast doing it. I haven’t had this much fun shooting a scene in

months.”

Mikey glared at him as if he were crazy. “If you say so, buddy.” Then he turned

around and shouted to the crew, “Let’s get this show on the road, guys. After this, we

wrap it up and go home for the day.”

Allan stepped back so he could watch. As the crew pulled Mikey back, and the

elastic material stretched as far as it would go, Mikey’s face turned a bright shade of red.

His fists were clenched and his lips were pressed together. When they let go of him and

he went flying through the air, he didn’t laugh and his legs did not move back and forth.

His body was tight and unyielding, and he landed in the lake flat on his torso, with one

hard crack. Allan pressed his palm to his stomach and closed his eyes. He knew that had

to hurt.

They all stared at the spot where Mikey had landed, waiting for him to surface so

they could see how far he’d gone. But Mikey didn’t come up. It wasn’t deep; he should

have surfaced right away. Allan’s heart started to pound in his ears and his stomach

jumped. He pushed the camera guy out of his way and ran toward the water, focusing on

the spot where Mikey had gone down. He took a deep breath, jumped in, and dove. When

he opened his eyes underwater, he saw Mikey at the bottom of the lake next to a large,

jagged rock. He wasn’t moving and there was a large gash on his leg.

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Allan wrapped his arms around Mikey’s body and pulled him to the surface. A

few of the guys from the crew were already in the water and they helped Allan carry

Mikey up to a grassy section at the edge of the lake. They laid him out and Allan started

CPR immediately. Allan pressed into Mikey’s chest to pump the water from his lungs,

then held his nose and breathed into his mouth.

A minute later, Mikey’s chest heaved and he coughed. Water came flowing from

his mouth and he tried to sit up straight.

Allan grabbed his shoulders and said, “Don’t move. You’re okay, but don’t

move.” There were tears rolling down Allan’s cheeks by then. He shouldn’t have made

him do this without his lucky pair of jeans. He looked up and shouted, “Someone call 911.

He’s going to need medical attention.”

Mikey rested his head back on the grass and asked, “What the fuck happened? My

leg is killing me.”

Allan looked down at his leg. It wasn’t bleeding too much, but it looked like a bad

break. A bone was protruding below the knee. He figured Mikey must have hit it on the

jagged rock when he’d landed in the lake. Allan wiped his eyes dry and sniffed back.

“You’re okay,” he said. “You’re going to be fine. Try not to move until the paramedics

come. I want to be sure nothing else is broken.” What he really wanted to do was fall

down on top of him and bawl his eyes out. He’d almost lost the best friend he’d ever had.

The thought of going through life without Mikey left him paralyzed. But he knew he had

to be strong. He told himself he could fall apart later. Right now he had to remain in

control.

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Allan looked up at the crew. They were standing there with blank expressions on

their faces. Mikey was always the one who took control, and now Mikey couldn’t do it.

So Allan took a deep breath and started giving orders. He told them to wrap things up,

put the equipment away, and asked someone to get him his clothes. He realized he was

still wearing the leopard thong and he didn’t want the paramedics to see him this way.

While everyone else went to work, Allan remained at Mikey’s side waiting for the

paramedics to arrive. Mikey didn’t say much; he was in too much pain to speak. But he

did look up at Allan at one point and asked, “Who pulled me out of the water?”

Allan shrugged. “I did. When you didn’t come up, I freaked out and jumped into

the lake. You scared me to death. Don’t you ever do this to me again.”

Mikey groaned. “Ah well, fuck me now.”

“What’s wrong?” Allan asked. “Are you in pain? Does something else hurt? Can I

get you something? Just tell me you’re okay.”

Mikey scowled. “Except for my leg, I think I’m okay. But this isn’t how it’s

supposed to work.”

“What?”

“You’re not supposed to save me,” Mikey said, “I’m supposed to save you.

You’re the gay guy. I’m the straight guy. This isn’t how it works.”

At that point, Allan couldn’t control the tears any longer. They gushed from his

eyes and he started sobbing. When he thought about the fact that Mikey could have hit

his head instead of his leg, he just wanted to hug him as hard as he could.

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He reached down and held Mikey’s hand. “I won’t forget it. And from now on,

trust me on this: you can save me all you want. I never, ever, want to go through anything

like this again.”

The sound of sirens appeared in the distance. The paramedics would be arriving

soon. Mikey squeezed his fingers and said, “Hey, buddy.”

Allan wiped his eyes and sniffed back. “What?”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

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Chapter Eleven

When the paramedics arrived, they checked Mikey out from head to toe to make

sure nothing other than his leg was broken. His leg was swollen by then, with a larger

lump below his knee where the bone was protruding. After they checked his body, they

took his vital signs and made sure he was breathing correctly.

Then the paramedics wanted to place him on a stretcher and take him to the

hospital. But Mikey refused to let them do anything until he found out where they were

taking him. They’d been shooting in a rural, wooded area of New Jersey that morning,

and Mikey didn’t want to be in a rural New Jersey hospital. No one could be sure how

bad the break in his leg was. When one of the paramedics said he might need surgery and

that the nearest hospital was only twenty minutes away, Mikey looked at Allan and

frowned. He said that if his leg required surgery, he wanted to be taken to a hospital in

New York, where he could see his own doctor. So he refused to let them put him on a

stretcher and insisted they place him in the back of the limo instead.

Allan knew there was no use arguing with him. He thanked the paramedics for

coming and told the crew to carry Mikey very carefully to the limo. They stretched him

out across the longest seat in the back. Mikey didn’t scream out in pain, but when they

rested him on the seat, his entire face contorted and turned bright red. He clenched his

fists and took rapid breaths through his nose. Allan knew he was in serious pain. He

jumped forward and grabbed Mikey’s arm. He wanted to do something to ease the pain.

But Mikey gave him a quick look that said, “Back off and leave me alone. I’m fine.”

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Allan stepped back and sat down in the seat across from him. He didn’t say a

word. He knew Mikey didn’t want the guys in the crew to see him complain about the

pain. Allan already felt so guilty he would have done anything Mikey asked him to do.

At the hospital in New York, Allan waited in the emergency room while they

examined Mikey. While he was waiting, his cell phone rang. It was Jacob, calling to tell

him they were going out to meet a few of his friends that night. Allan had never met any

of Jacob’s friends. He didn’t even know Jacob had friends in New York. When he asked

exactly where they would be going, Jacob said it was just a small gathering uptown, in a

co-worker’s apartment, to welcome Jacob to the XN Network. He said there would be a

few other guys there, and that they were all bringing their partners. Allan agreed to go

without asking any questions. Though there wasn’t time to ask for more details, he was

curious. The other guys were bringing their partners? Not their wives? If Jacob was

taking Allan to this small gathering, the people there would have to assume that Allan

was Jacob’s partner.

When he hung up, a doctor came into the waiting room and said Mikey would not

need surgery. The X-rays showed he had a bad break, though, and they wanted to keep

him in the hospital for a week to keep him off his feet, so he wouldn’t need surgery in the

future. According to the doctor, this was critical with the type of break Mikey had. The

doctor said he had to remain on his back in a quiet, stress-free position for the next week.

If he didn’t, the leg would only get worse and there could be permanent damage.

Allan frowned and asked the doctor how Mikey was taking this news. Allan knew

how much Mikey hated to be confined anywhere, especially a hospital.

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The doctor smiled and said, “Not well, I’m afraid. He wants to go home right now.

He says he can rest just as well in his own home as he can here. I was hoping you could

calm him down. He’s a very stubborn young man.”

Allan shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. It wasn’t going to be

easy to calm Mikey down. He took a quick breath and promised the doctor that Mikey

would remain in the hospital for the next week, without a doubt.

Then he went up to Mikey’s room to see what he could do. It wasn’t easy. Mikey

wanted Allan to help him get into a wheelchair and push him down to the limo. When

Allan flatly refused, scolding Mikey for acting like a spoiled child, Mikey threw a box of

tissues across the room and insisted he was leaving. He told Allan he’d crawl out the door

if he didn’t help.

But Allan refused to back down. Though he wasn’t as physically strong as Mikey,

he was as emotionally strong as anyone. He told Mikey this was for his own good. Then

he called the nurse and asked if they could give Mikey more painkillers. Mikey didn’t

have any family, and Allan knew if he didn’t take control of the situation, Mikey would

wind up leaving the hospital and making his leg worse.

When the nurse was gone, Mikey finally sat back and stopped complaining. The

painkiller hit him fast. Allan promised him he’d visit twice a day, all week, and he

promised he’d stop back that night with Jacob.

“I’ve never been in a hospital alone before,” Mikey said. His drooping eyes

looked soft and adorable. His voice had become a low hush.

“I know,” Allan said. “And I’ll be here every single day. You’re going to be okay.

I’ll bring you ice cream, the special kind you like. I’ll buy up all the comics I can find.

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The week will go by fast, trust me.” Mikey looked so hapless and dejected that Allan

couldn’t help wanting to spoil him.

Mikey raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “So this is how I finally meet Mr.

Perfect when he’s sober,” he said, “lying in a hospital bed with a broken leg? I’d rather

you came alone and sat with me.”

Allan gave him a look. “I would, normally. But this just came up and it’s

important to Jacob.” He had to bring Jacob. They were meeting Jacob’s friends at eight

and it was already six. He had just enough time to rush home to Turtle Bay, get dressed,

and stop back at the hospital on the way to the party.

Mikey nodded and stared down at his lap. The painkillers the nurse had just given

him made his eyelids heavy. “Would you bring me my phone tomorrow morning? I

didn’t take it with me this morning when I went out for the shoot. I’ll go nuts without

Internet, and I’d like to give regular updates about my leg to fans. This little mishap

might be good for ratings.”

Allan smiled. “I’ll bring you anything you want, as long as you promise me you’ll

stay here and do what the doctor says. I mean that.” It was almost as if he was speaking

to a ten-year-old child.

Mikey looked up at him and smiled. “I promise.”

* * * *

By the time he rushed home from the hospital, Jacob was already dressed and

sipping a drink in the living room. He looked casual, for Jacob, in a dark sport coat, a

white dress shirt, and brand-new jeans. Evidently, they weren’t going to a formal

gathering.

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Allan kissed him and said, “I’ll get dressed fast. It only takes me a minute.” Then

he grabbed Jacob’s hand and asked, “Do you mind if we stop by the hospital on the way?

A friend broke his leg today and I promised I’d stop by.”

“A friend?” Jacob asked, sipping his martini.

Allan hadn’t told Jacob anything about his TV job as Acer, and not much about

his friendship with Mikey. He’d mentioned he had a very good friend named Mikey, but

he hadn’t gone into details. “Yes,” he said, “it’s Mikey, the guy you don’t remember

from the night when you were so drunk. When you called me this afternoon, I was at the

hospital. Mikey broke his leg and I was helping him out today. I promised I’d go back to

the hospital and visit tonight to make sure he’s okay.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jacob said. “If he’s your friend, I can’t wait to meet

him…sober. This time I can apologize for being so drunk the first time I met him.”

“We won’t be late. We’ll only stay for a minute, just to see how Mikey is doing,

then we’ll leave.”

Jacob shrugged. “We can be a few minutes late,” he said. “No one will mind.

These people are very laid back. It’s not formal, by any means. Seeing your friend is

more important.”

Allan kissed him again and ran into the bathroom to take a fast shower.

Twenty minutes later, he was wearing a black leather sport jacket, a gray

turtleneck, and beige jeans. They took a taxi to the hospital and walked inside through the

main entrance. On the way up to Mikey’s room in the elevator, Allan said, “You may or

may not recognize Mikey.” Even though Acer was anonymous, Mikey was not. Mikey

was openly famous for his stunts on The Naught Boiz, and people recognized him all the

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time. Though Allan doubted Jacob would recognize him, he had to say something just in

case he did.

“Why would I recognize him?” Jacob asked. “Is he famous?”

“Have you ever heard of Mikey Phoenix? From the TV show, The Naughty

Boiz?”

Jacob rubbed his jaw and looked down at his shoes. “Isn’t that one of those reality

TV shows where they play all kinds of stupid pranks, like eating bugs and shooting little

people out of cannons? I’ve seen it advertised a few times, but I’ve never actually

watched it.”

Allan stared at the elevator buttons and sighed. By the way Jacob summed it up,

his life suddenly came down to eating bugs and shooting little people out of cannons.

“Yes,” he said, “that’s the show. Mikey and I have known each other for a long time.

He’s actually my best friend.” He didn’t look Jacob in the eye. His voice was soft, as if

he was apologizing for not telling Jacob much sooner he had a best friend.

But Jacob smiled and slapped his back. “Now I’m really looking forward to

meeting this guy. Why didn’t you tell me about Mikey sooner?”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about my best friend being associated with a TV

show like The Naughty Boiz.” Allan still had this image of him as a serious writer.

“I couldn’t care less what he does,” Jacob said. “I admire anyone who can make a

lot of money doing a TV show about eating bugs.” Then he rubbed his jaw again and

frowned. “Did you not tell me because you and this Mikey guy were lovers or

something?”

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“No,” Allan said. “Mikey and I have never been lovers, trust me. Mikey is totally

straight. He’s the straightest guy I know. He spits on the sidewalk and pees all over the

toilet seat. The night I ran into you again at the bar, he was picking up a woman. But he’s

cool with gay guys. And oddly enough, he doesn’t mind putting up with me.”

“Sounds like a great guy to me,” Jacob said. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Allan smiled. “He is.”

But he was still worried about how Jacob and Mikey would get along. He hoped

\Mikey wouldn’t refer to Jacob as Mr. Perfect to his face—one could never tell with

Mikey. He hoped Jacob would understand Mikey’s straight-guy sense of humor if Mikey

lifted his leg and passed gas on purpose, just for the shock effect. Mikey had been known

to do these things, especially when he met someone he wasn’t sure about.

When they entered Mikey’s room and Allan introduced them, Allan held his

breath and hoped for the best.

Mikey looked Jacob up and down and adjusted himself on the pillow. He reached

out to shake Jacob’s hand and said, “I hope you’re taking good care of my buddy here.”

Then, with his other hand, he spread his good leg and scratched his balls a few times on

purpose.

Allan gave Mikey a look and rolled his eyes, preparing himself for a long hospital

visit.

But Jacob only laughed and shook his hand hard. He gave Mikey one of his best

smiles. “I’m doing my best. But Allan’s so damn extreme sometimes, I’m not sure if my

best is good enough for him.”

Well.

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After that, Mikey and Jacob spent the next half hour bonding as if they were long

lost buddies who hadn’t seen each other since the war. They talked about cars, football,

and the stock market. They both liked the Giants, and Jacob admitted he’d never had time

to see Mikey’s TV show, but he promised he’d make time now. But mostly, they talked

about how difficult Allan was to deal with sometimes—how Allan tended to go off the

deep end with political issues and how he could be too serious about matters out of his

control. Allan sat back in a chair with his hands folded on his lap and listened without

saying a word.

When they started talking about how Allan was too political, Mikey shook his

head and said, “Man, tell me about it. I tell him all the time that the stress isn’t good for

him, but he never listens to me.”

“He never listens to me either,” Jacob said.

Allan blinked and laced his fingers together on his lap. “Hey, you guys know I’m

still in the room.”

By the time they were ready to leave, Mikey and Jacob had bonded so well, they

were making tentative plans to get together when Mikey was discharged from the

hospital.

Allan looked at his watch and said, “We really should be going. It’s five minutes

after eight, and you said we had to be there by eight.” He was worried about the

impression he’d make on Jacob’s friends. He remembered the kind of friends Jacob had

had in college. They were the popular people who came from wealthy backgrounds, and

Allan had always felt as if he’d been invited to clean the dishes and mop the floors.

Jacob waved his arm and said, “I’m never on time for things like this.”

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“Hey, me neither,” Mikey shouted. He scratched his balls again and said, “Fuck

being on time. I always say, let ’em wait for me.”

Allan blinked. Mikey was usually obsessed with being on time, and he was

always complaining that Allan was late.

Then Mikey and Jacob made fists, banged them together, and promised to get

together real soon.

On the way out the door, Mikey called Allan back into the room. “Don’t forget

about my phone tomorrow morning,” he said. “And, by the way, I like this guy. He seems

laid back and really easy, as if nothing ever bothers him. I don’t think he’d even care if

you told him about Acer.”

“No, he probably wouldn’t care,” Allan said. “Jacob is laid back, and nothing ever

does bother him.” He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath through his nose.

He was going to tell Jacob soon. He just wasn’t sure when. He wanted to build a few

journalism credits first so Jacob would still take him seriously.

Mikey furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what’s the problem? You don’t look happy

about that. He really is Mr. Perfect.”

“I’m worried I might be the one thing that does finally bother him,” Allan said.

“In a way, he’s too perfect for me.”

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Chapter Twelve

On the way to the apartment where they were meeting Jacob’s new friends, Allan

didn’t say much. The hospital was in the neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so they

walked. Jacob did most of the talking, laughing and joking about the conversation he’d

just had with Mikey. Allan smiled and nodded, staring down at the sidewalk and

worrying about how he’d be received by Jacob’s friends.

When they arrived, a tall, blond man answered the door. Allan recognized him.

He was one of the other hosts of the XN Morning Show, Ted Tittel. He smiled and

invited them inside.

An overweight man with a strong lisp, crossed to where they were standing and

said, “I’m Russell, Ted’s partner. Let me take your coats, darlings.” His voice was high

and spirited. He wore black velvet loafers with glaring rhinestone buckles. Allan thought

he was ready to fly out of the room.

While Allan was being introduced, he smiled and shook their hands. But he was

ready to fall over from shock. He’d always thought Ted Tittel was straight, with a wife

and a family. He’d never imagined Ted was gay, with a longtime partner named Russell

who pronounced his S’s like TH’s. Though Ted was not a political pundit and he had no

serious political affiliations, he often dropped subtle hints during political interviews

which were both conservative and frightening. Allan hadn’t watched him often, but he’d

watched enough to nickname him “footface,” because Ted Tittel had one of those spongy

faces with an exaggerated, phony expression for every emotion. His most prominent

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expression was saved for liberal politics, where he’d scrunch his face to the point of

distortion, trying to look sarcastic, when he didn’t agree with a liberal issue.

After they were introduced, while Ted led them into the living room, Allan tugged

on Jacob’s arm and said, “Ted Tittel is gay, and he has a partner, too?”

Jacob smiled. “I told you you’d be surprised.”

As if that wasn’t enough, the small group in the living room almost made him

choke. Grayer Crowley was there. Grayer was the well known host of an XN reality TV

show in Los Angeles. Though his sexuality had been questioned by the press—in that

funny-ha-ha way—and he’d been seen running around with a famous gay rock star, Cody

Atkins, Grayer had always publicly denied the fact that he was gay. He even made cheesy

gay jokes and quips while hosting his reality show. One night, because of an offensive

comment he’d made about transvestites, Allan turned the TV off and never watched the

show again. As far as Allan was concerned, Grayer Crowley was the worst type of gay

man there was: part of the elite, self-loathing group of famous gay men who refused to

acknowledge their sexual identity in public. Just looking at Grayer made Allan’s stomach

turn.

When Allan was introduced to Grayer, he shook his hand and smiled. Grayer gave

Allan a condescending nod and shook his hand.

Then Grayer boldly turned his back on Allan and hugged Jacob as tightly as he

could. “You look so sexy tonight,” Grayer said. “I’m so glad you could make it. I’ve been

watching you every single morning on TV.”

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Allan stepped back and cleared his throat. He wondered if Grayer would have

ignored him if he’d known Allan was Acer on The Naughty Boiz. This was the best part

about being an anonymous TV star. You knew who your real friends were.

There were four other men in the room, and all were coupled except for Grayer.

One of the guys worked as a writer for XN, another worked as a director for a highly

conservative political TV show. When Allan was introduced to their partners, they looked

him up and down and didn’t bother to get up and shake his hand. They nodded, and he

nodded back and lifted his right eyebrow. Neither one of them mentioned what they did

for a living, and when Jacob mentioned that Allan wrote for a political blog, one of them

smiled and said, “Isn’t that nice, dear?” This one made Allan look twice. His gray hair

had been tinted with a violet rinse, puffed and sprayed into large block-like chunks of

shredded wheat. All he needed was lipstick and earrings he would have looked like Ethel

Merman’s twin sister.

While Jacob joked and laughed with Grayer Crowley about Grayer’s new Bentley

Continental, Allan went to the end of a long sofa and sat down alone. Russell handed him

a large martini, and he took a big gulp and winked at Ted Tittel. When the guys sitting on

the other end of the sofa started laughing about Senator Amos’s healthcare plan, which

hadn’t even been seriously discussed yet because it was just the early stages of the

campaign, Allan stared down at his lap and pressed his lips together. His heart began to

race and his left eye started to twitch. This was his worst nightmare come true. He’d

heard there were gay men like this, but he’d never actually come in contact with any.

He could have suffered through all this for Jacob’s sake. But when the guy who

worked as the director of the conservative political show started making jokes about gay

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marriage, he grabbed the arm of the sofa and squeezed it so hard he almost cut into the

fabric. The guy laughed and said, “I wonder who will walk me down the aisle.” He

pointed to his partner, and his partner smiled and finished a martini. “We’ve been

together for more than twenty years. I need a wedding ring to prove myself to the

world?”

The guy who worked as the writer agreed with him. He even clicked his martini

glass and said, “Can you picture my Ken walking down the aisle in a white wedding

dress?” He pointed to his partner and laughed. “Wouldn’t she be the most beautiful bride

in the world?”

Allan had heard enough. When gay men started using feminine pronouns, it was

time for him to open his mouth. There were enough people out there already making

jokes about gay marriage. He wasn’t going to listen to other gay men do it, too.

“It’s not about wearing white wedding dresses, rings, or proving anything to the

world,” Allan said. “It’s about equality and being treated with respect, not to mention the

tax benefits, health benefits, and legal benefits that come along with being a married

couple. There are gay couples who can’t even see their partners in the hospital. They

have no rights.”

The room went silent. The other guys raised their eyebrows and looked at each

other, shocked at Allan’s outburst. Jacob heard him. Allan saw Jacob look in his direction.

But Jacob pretended he didn’t hear anything and continued talking to Grayer near a baby

grand piano.

Then the writer looked at Allan and said with a snide, nasal voice, “There are

ways to avoid taxes, sweetie. And you can get legal power of attorney for hospital visits.

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All you need is a good gay lawyer. You don’t need a marriage license. That sort of thing

for poor people.” Then he raised his glass, tossed his head back, and laughed with a snort.

Allan finished his drink in one swallow, then smiled and stood up from the sofa.

He knew he’d never win with this crowd. He turned his back on them and walked to an

outside terrace so he could get some fresh air. He told himself that if he took a few deep

breaths, he’d calm down enough so that he could go back into the room and remain civil.

He wanted this to go well for Jacob.

Then someone came up from behind and tapped his shoulder. When he turned, he

was face to face with Grayer Crowley. Grayer smiled and said, “It might be a good idea if

you went back inside and tried to be nice, for Jacob’s sake. These people are important to

his career. If you don’t, I can tell you one thing for sure: there will be someone else who

will take your place. Personally, I find Jacob fascinating.”

Allan put his hands behind his back and leaned into the terrace wall. He lowered

his voice and spoke softly. “Oh you do, do you?” he said. “You’re everything I’d

imagined you would be, Mr. Crowley.” He wasn’t paying him a compliment.

“Honey,” Grayer said, “Men like Jacob don’t care about issues and politics. They

only care about fabulous blow jobs, having fun, and getting what they want.”

Allan stood straight and squared his shoulders. “I see you have Jacob all figured

out, don’t you, Mr. Crowley?” He wanted to tell him about Acer. He wanted to let him

know his TV show was even more successful than Grayer’s. But he clenched his fists and

smiled instead. “And what about you? Don’t you think you have a responsibility to other

gay men? Don’t you think that if gay men like you came out of the closet and openly

admitted they were gay, it would make it so much easier for the rest of us who are

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fighting so hard for our equal rights on a daily basis? Did you know there are still young

gay men who are terrified about coming out of the closet for fear they will be kicked out

into the streets? Things have changed, but not all that much.”

Grayer furrowed his eyebrows. He gave him a hard look. “It’s no one’s business

what I do in bed, or with whom I do it. I’m not responsible for anyone but myself.”

“Being gay is not about what you do in bed, Mr. Crowley,” Allan said. “It’s about

who you are at the very core.” He moved closer and looked into Grayer’s eyes. “It’s not

about who you fuck. It’s about who you love and who you want to spend the rest of your

life with. And how you deserve the equal rights to do this without anyone trying to stop

you.” Then he stepped past him and went back into the living room without waiting for a

reply.

Jacob was standing behind the sofa now, talking with Ted Tittel about an

interview he was doing in the morning. Allan had planned to just stand next to him and

remain quiet. He didn’t want to make a scene and he didn’t want to embarrass Jacob. But

when someone made a racially charged comment about a social issue, Allan had had

enough for one night. The person who made the offhanded racial comment was joking,

and he may or may not have meant serious harm. Everyone else seemed to think it was

funny. But his comment was without a doubt a blatant racial slur, and Allan had no time

in his life for bigots.

He grabbed Jacob’s arm and said, “I want to leave.” He didn’t whisper. Everyone

in the room heard him. “Did you just hear what that asshole said?”

Ted Tittel stepped back and left them alone. He looked around the room, then at

his partner, Russell, and rolled his eyes.

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Jacob took a deep breath and smiled. Everyone in the room was waiting to see

how he’d respond to Allan’s outburst. He grabbed Allan’s arm and walked him toward

the piano and said, “Why don’t you just have another drink and relax? It was only a joke.

No harm done. Let’s have fun.”

Allan looked down at the floor and shook his head. Though his heart was still

racing about the racial comment, he knew he had to work hard to control his temper.

When he looked up again at Jacob, he said, “I think it’s time we go. This isn’t what we’re

about, Jacob. You’re too good for this.”

“What about having fun?” Jacob asked. His voice was strong and deep, but he

tried to speak as low as he could. “Does everything have to be political and serious all the

time? Don’t you ever lighten up? In case you don’t know it, not all gay men are bleeding-

heart liberals. Some are very conservative. It’s a free country, Allan.”

Allan pressed his palm to his throat and stepped back. His job as Acer was the

least serious job in the world. Maybe if he’d told Jacob about Acer, Jacob wouldn’t have

asked him these questions. But when someone made a racial comment that hit Allan so

hard it hurt right down to his core, he could not ignore it.

“I don’t believe in racial slurs, not even as jokes,” Allan said. “I despise racism in

any form. It might not sound important, but that sort of thing only promotes hate and it

gives the haters of the world a silent voice to gain more power. I won’t be part of it.”

Jacob clenched his teeth, lifted his forearms, and tightened his fists. “This is

what I mean by you being so fucking extreme all the time. It was only a fucking joke. I’m

not a racist. Get over it and have some fun once in a while. And stop being such a fucking

tight-ass all the time.”

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Allan closed his eyes and fought back the urge to cry. He couldn’t believe what he

was hearing. When he opened his eyes, he looked directly into Jacob’s eyes and said, “I

want to leave.” He said it loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear him.

Jacob’s head tilted to the right. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Then

by all means, feel free to go.” His voice was even and resigned, and he bowed down and

made a gesture with his arms. “I can stay here tonight. Ted and Russell have a guest suite.

They offered it to me when I first got the job on The Morning Show.”

Everyone was listening by then.

Ted Tittel smiled. “Of course you can stay here, darling. We’d love to have you as

our guest.”

For a minute, Allan stared at Jacob with wide eyes. He was too shocked to move

his legs, and a lump had formed in his throat that made it difficult for him to speak. It felt

as if Jacob had hit him in the stomach with a baseball bat and he couldn’t catch his breath.

But it hurt even worse when he turned around and started walking to the front door and

Jacob didn’t stop him. He was so stunned he didn’t even start crying until he was out on

the street and three blocks away from the building.

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Chapter Thirteen

Allan went back to his apartment alone. He sat up in bed for a long time, sipping

wine and staring at the blank TV screen. When he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer,

he fell into a deep, unconscious sleep for about three hours.

When he opened his eyes at seven, his head felt heavy and his tongue felt thick

and dry. But there was sun shining through the window and it looked like it was going to

be a beautiful day. For a second, he forgot about what had happened with Jacob and

everything felt normal. But then he turned and looked at the other side of the bed and

remembered Jacob had spent the night somewhere else, probably at Ted Tittel’s place.

The pain in the middle of his stomach returned and he rested his head back on the pillow

and closed his eyes.

At eight, he took a shower and got dressed. He didn’t want to get out of bed, but

he knew Mikey was counting on him. He went to Mikey’s loft first and got his phone,

then he went straight to the hospital to see how Mikey was doing. He kept checking his

cell phone to see if Jacob had left a message, but each time he went into his voice mail it

was empty, and there were no missed calls.

When he arrived at the hospital and walked into Mikey’s room, he tried hard to

smile and act normal. He knew Mikey wasn’t happy about being there, and he didn’t

want to make it worse.

But Mikey took one look at his face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

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Allan tried to smile, but his eyes filled up with tears. He placed Mikey’s phone on

a table next to the hospital bed and sat down. Then he folded his hands on his lap and said,

“We had a huge fight last night and Jacob didn’t come home.”

Then he told Mikey everything about the party and the racial slur, and Mikey

listened without saying a word.

When he was finished, Mikey shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe you two just aren’t

meant to be together. If you have this many differences now, it’s not going to get better.”

Allan sat up and stared at Mikey. “You don’t think he was wrong?” He’d been

hoping Mikey would take his side.

“I like the guy,” Mikey said, “and we both know he’s not a racist. I’m not sure

either of you were wrong. He’s just not as political as you are, and you can’t blame him

for that. You’re my best friend, but I know how difficult you can be sometimes.

Sometimes you make me crazy, and I’m not even the guy fucking you.” Then he laughed

and threw a pillow at Allan’s head.

“How do you know he’s fucking me?” Allan asked, annoyed at Mikey’s

assumption. “Maybe I’m fucking him.” He never mentioned any details about his sex life

to anyone.

Mikey rolled his eyes, laughed, and threw another pillow across the room.

For the next three days, Allan spent most of his time at the hospital with Mikey. It

turned out to be more about keeping Allan occupied than Mikey. Now that Mikey had his

phone, he was able to work from his hospital bed and didn’t need a constant visitor. They

played cards, watched movies, and ordered takeout from local restaurants. Allan sulked

and couldn’t concentrate on his cards. Mikey ate most of the takeout food alone; Allan

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didn’t have much of an appetite. He hadn’t heard a word from Jacob since the night of the

party at Ted Tittel’s place, and he was starting to think he never would.

On the third night, he said goodbye to Mikey and headed back to his apartment. In

the elevator, he told himself he should probably pack up all of Jacob’s clothes so that

when Jacob was ready to come get them, all he had to do was pick them up and leave.

But when he reached the hospital lobby and headed toward the main entrance, someone

called his name. He stopped walking and turned fast. Jacob was sitting on a pale blue sofa

in a small waiting area near the front door.

Jacob stood up and smoothed out his slacks. “Can we go for a walk?” he asked.

His eyes were blank and his lips were even.

Allan smiled. “Hey, I’m sorry for the other night. I was an asshole. I know. Just

tell me how I can make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

Jacob put his hands in his pockets and stared down at his shoes. When he looked

up, he said, “We have to talk.”

A lump formed in Allan’s throat, but he continued to smile. “I don’t like the way

that sounds. Whenever someone says, ‘We have to talk,’ it’s never a good sign. Why

don’t we just go home and I’ll make you a steak? I stocked the refrigerator this morning

and it won’t take long. After that, all you have to do is lie down in bed and I’ll take care

of everything else. I was totally wrong the other night. I’m sorry. Just come back home

with me, please.”

Jacob frowned. “Don’t do this, Allan. Let’s go outside and talk.” Jacob was

wearing a white turtleneck, faded jeans, and a heavy black pea coat. His hair looked a

little messy and his face was slightly flushed.

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Allan had a sinking feeling at the bottom of his stomach. He knew where this was

going and he wasn’t ready for it. He hadn’t had any time to prepare. But he stood up

straight, nodded, and turned toward the door. When they were out on the street, Jacob

apologized for not calling him sooner. He said he wanted to call, but just couldn’t bring

himself to make the call. He knew Allan would be at the hospital with Mikey that week,

so he decided to wait for him down in the lobby so they could speak in person.

Allan just walked and listened. Jacob fumbled with his words and tried to sound

wise and strong. Allan was worried that if he spoke too soon, he’d ruin things again. All

he wanted was a chance to make it up to Jacob, to show him he could be everything

Jacob wanted him to be.

But when Jacob said, “Look, we both know this isn’t going to work,” Allan

stopped walking and looked into Jacob’s eyes. They were in front of a brick building with

a small courtyard—he wasn’t sure where, but he knew they were heading downtown.

“Why?” Allan asked. “Just give me one good reason why this isn’t going to

work.”

Allan ran his fingers through his hair and frowned. “All you want to do is fight,”

he said. “I can give you fifty good reasons, not just one. But I’ll just give you a few at the

top of the list. It’s all about equal rights: stop the war, gay marriage, being politically

correct. The smallest thing sets you off on a tirade of political jargon. I don’t want to

fight all the time. I want to have fun.”

Allan lowered his voice. “I know I’m not easy. But I can change. I can be anyone

you want me to be.” Then he reached for Jacob’s sleeve and said, “I’ll do whatever you

want me to do.”

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Jacob grabbed his hand and said, “Don’t do this, Allan. You’re better than this.

You can’t change any more than I can change. And we both know this isn’t going to

work. If it doesn’t end now, we’ll only wind up back right back where we started.”

Allan wiped a tear from his eye. He didn’t want Jacob to see him crying. He

stepped back and leaned against a wrought-iron fence that surrounded the small courtyard.

He squared his shoulders and said, “I guess even we aren’t worth fighting for, are we,

Jacob?”

“If I thought we had a chance…” Jacob started to say. It sounded as if he was

pleading with Allan to listen.

But Allan cut him off. “Just go,” he said. “You’ve already made up your mind.

Go on. Have all the fun you want with your new friends. I’ll be fine. Just get away from

me. I don’t even want to look at you.”

Jacob hesitated. He even lifted his arms as if he was about to reach out and hold

Allan. Then he stopped and reached into his pocket instead. He pulled out a key to

Allan’s apartment and said, “I’ll get my things later.”

Allan took the key and folded his arms across his chest without saying a word.

His eyes were filling up again and his legs felt weak. He turned his back on Jacob and ran

into the street to grab a taxi that someone had just left. He didn’t look back until the taxi

pulled away. By then, Jacob was gone.

* * * *

When the taxi dropped Allan off in front of his building, he pulled his collar up

high and shoved his hands into his pockets. He jogged past the doorman fast. He didn’t

want anyone to see that his nose was red and his eyes were wet from crying. When he

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went into the apartment he put on a pair of sweatpants and one of Jacob’s old plaid shirts.

Then he sat down with a bottle of wine and stared at the telephone. He was still in shock.

He could accept the fact that Jacob wasn’t interested in fighting for equal rights or

important political issues. But he couldn’t accept the fact that Jacob wasn’t willing to

fight for their relationship.

By midnight, he walked to the phone and stared at it for ten minutes. Then he

lifted the receiver and dialed Jacob’s cell phone. It rang five times. When Jacob answered,

Allan said, “I was wondering if you could come over tonight.” He sniffed back and tried

hard to keep his lips from trembling; he was on the verge of sobbing into the phone. “You

see, I need a best friend really badly. I only have two best friends. One is in the hospital

with a broken leg and I can’t bother him right now. I know this sounds silly, but you’re

the only other best friend I have. Isn’t that a joke? I’m such a damn loser. I should at least

have a good fag hag.”

Jacob was silent for a moment, but it felt like an hour. “Ah well, Allan.”

“You just have to come over and help me get through this one night,” Allan said,

sobbing now. “Please, please come over, Jacob. I swear I won’t bother you again and I

won’t make it awkward for you. I just don’t want to be alone right now. I didn’t know

who else to call.” He knew he was begging, and he didn’t care. Allan was used to fighting

for what he wanted, and if it meant he had to beg, he wasn’t too proud.

Jacob sighed and said, “Okay.”

A half hour later, Jacob walked into the apartment with a stoic expression. He

handed Allan two pills and said, “Here, take these. They’ll help you get to sleep.”

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Allan frowned at the pills in his hand. “I have bad reactions to these things. They

work the opposite way on me. Or I could break out in hives. That happened to me once.”

Jacob put his hands in his pockets. “Just take them. They’ll work.”

Allan didn’t argue any more. He swallowed them with a glass of wine, and they

went into the living room. Allan sat on the sofa and Jacob sat on the other side of the

coffee table in a leather chair.

“It’s because I’m not what you pictured in a lover, isn’t it?” Allan asked, pouring

another glass of wine. “I’m not talking about my looks. I know I’m not ugly. Other guys

look at me all the time. I’m talking about the fact that I’m not the quiet little gay lover,

like Russell. I don’t care about decorating the house, picking fabric for the drapes, and

collecting Martha Stewart recipes. I’m too political and I’m too pushy for you, aren’t I?”

Jacob looked into his eyes. His lips were pressed together and his eyes were blank

and lifeless.

“Just be honest with me,” Allan said. “I’m trying hard to understand. Tell me, is it

because you don’t like what I’m about? I know you love me and I know you’re attracted

to me. Is it because I’m not what you want me to be?”

Jacob looked into his eyes. “Yes. You are too pushy and too political. Sometimes

you’re even obnoxious. I don’t like the way you feel so superior to people who work at

the XN Network, and people like Grayer Crowley. I don’t like the way you look down on

them.”

“I’ll change.” He felt as if he’d finally broken a thick glass wall.

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Jacob sat back and lifted his palms. It looked as if he hadn’t expected Allan to

react this way. “No. I don’t want you to change. You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

He punched the chair. “Shit!”

Allan’s body jumped. “But if I don’t change I’ll lose you,” he said. “And nothing

in the world is more important to me than you. You’re the most talented man I’ve ever

known.”

Jacob laughed. “Yeah, I’m talented, right.”

“’Until that moment, hate had never affected my own perfect world in such a

personal, profound way,’” Allan said, remembering the story Jacob had written in college.

“Personally, I think that’s talent.” Then Allan lowered his eyes and stared down at his lap.

“I can’t believe you actually remember that line,” Jacob said.

“Oh Jacob, how could I forget it? It was absolutely brilliant.”

Jacob rose from the chair and crossed to the window. He made a fist and banged

the radiator. “You’re so fucking extreme,” he shouted. “All I want to do is have some fun

with people I work with, and you turn it into a political rally. For most people, there is a

time and a place for politics and issues. For you, it’s all the time. It never ends.”

“I’m extreme because I think you’re better than those people,” Allan said. “I

never stop fighting because I want to help you become the great man I know you can be.

You have more talent than any man I’ve ever known, and you don’t seem to care. Those

people at the XN Network don’t give a damn about you as a man. And they don’t love

you or believe in you like I do.” He stood up and crossed to where Jacob was standing.

He whispered, “No one is ever going to love you or support you as much as I do.”

“I know that,” Jacob shouted. “Don’t you know how hard this is for me?”

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“Then why can’t we make this work?”

“Damn you, Allan. You make your life so unbelievably difficult. Did you ever

stop and think that maybe I’m the one who isn’t right for you? I’m not even sure I

understand why you bother.”

Allan smiled. “Oh, but Jacob, I bother because you’re so worth it. I can’t believe

how lucky I’ve been to know you. I know that as long as I live, I’ll never find another

man as perfect, as smart, and as strong as you.” He wasn’t just boosting Jacob’s ego. He

believed all this in the deepest part of his soul.

Jacob smiled. He shook his head and laughed. “Wait until you hear this.

Something came up yesterday that is going to surprise you even more. Normally, I’d be

afraid to tell you. But what the hell?”

“What?” Allan said. He was smiling, too. He wanted to make up. He wanted

Jacob to take him in his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. “Tell me.

Whatever it is, I promise I’ll love it.” He meant it. He swore to himself that even if Jacob

had decided to become a card-carrying Republican, he’d support him.

“The XN Network offered me a job at twice the pay, doing my own prime-time

TV show. They want me to move to Hollywood.”

Allan hesitated, but he was still smiling. “Is it political?” He was hoping it wasn’t.

“No,” he said, “It’s one of those Hollywood entertainment/gossip shows.”

“You just got the job on The Morning Show,” Allan said.

“I know, but they think I’m perfect for this. And The Morning Show was never

permanent anyway. Once her maternity leave is over, the host is coming back.”

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Allan smiled wider. “That’s wonderful. Why would I be upset about that? I like

warm weather and fake palm trees. I like Ellen Degeneres. I love the mayor of San

Francisco. I can live with that. I like to have fun, too.”

“You make me crazy, Allan,” Jacob said, then walked over to the window and

punched the wall.

Allan stood there without saying a word. He’d never seen Jacob in a mood like

this. It looked as if he wanted to remain angry, but just couldn’t.

“I have something to tell you, too,” Allan said. “Wait here and don’t move.”

Allan ran into the bedroom and pulled off all his clothes. When he was naked, he

put on his leopard thong and covered his head with the black ski mask. Then he shouted,

“Close your eyes. Promise me you’ll keep them closed until I tell you to open them.”

He walked into the living room. Jacob was facing the window, with his eyes

closed and his fist pressed to his chin. Allan took a deep breath and said, “Okay, you can

open them now.”

When Jacob opened his eyes and saw Allan standing there wearing a leopard

thong and a black ski mask he pressed his palm to his chest and said, “What the fuck is

that?”

Allan pulled off the ski mask. “I’m Acer, on The Naughty Boiz. I’ve been doing

this show with Mikey anonymously for a long time.” Then he went into more detail,

telling Jacob everything about his career as Acer and how hard he’d worked to remain

anonymous so he could one day have a career as a serious journalist.

When he was finished explaining, he waited for a response. But Jacob just stood

there with his mouth half open, staring at him.

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“Say something,” Allan said. “I did it for the money, then found out I liked doing

all the weird stunts. It’s fun, seriously. Don’t just leave me standing here like an idiot in a

leopard thong. I know it’s shocking. But at least you know I’m not a total bore now. Are

you mad?” After some silence, Allan shook his head. He turned in the opposite direction

and started walking back to the bedroom. “I knew I should have told you sooner.”

“No, wait,” Jacob said. He walked up behind Allan and put his arms around him.

“I’m fine. I can’t say I’m not shocked. But I’m fine with it.” He rubbed Allan’s stomach.

“Actually, I was wondering how you made a living writing for those political blogs. It

didn’t make sense. I figured you had to have money coming in from something else.”

Allan took a deep breath. “I have plenty of money,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t ell

you sooner. But I didn’t want you to judge me.”

“Are you kidding?” Jacob said. “I think it’s wonderful. And in a peculiar way,

this is just as extreme as everything else about you.” Then he laughed and squeezed

Allan’s ass hard. “I just wish the guys at Ted Tittel’s house had known this about you. It

would have made them weak.”

“My contract is up this month,” Allan said. “I don’t have to renew it. Mikey won’t

be happy, but I can move to Hollywood, or anywhere else I want to move.” He leaned

back into Jacob’s strong chest. He rested all his weight against Jacob’s solid body.

“Aren’t you tired yet?” Jacob asked. “The sleeping pill should have started

working by now.” Jacob’s crotch was up against Allan’s bare ass and Jacob bucked his

hips.

Allan backed into Jacob and wiggled his ass. “Not a bit. I told you sleeping pills

have the opposite effect on me. Are you tired?” He knew Jacob wanted him.

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Jacob looked at the window. “I’m exhausted. I’m glad tomorrow is Saturday and I

don’t have to work.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Allan said. “All you have to do is lie down and I’ll take off all

your clothes. Then I’ll massage your poor tired feet until you fall asleep.”

“Sounds

good

me,

Acer,” Jacob said.

Allan reached down and grabbed his crotch. Jacob was erect; his dick was

pointing up toward his belt. “I just want to ask you one thing,” Allan said.

“What’s

that?”

“You don’t want me to give up altogether on politics,” he said, “do you?”

Jacob kissed the back of his neck. “No,” he said, “I don’t want you to ever give up

anything you love, especially me.”

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Chapter Fourteen

On Saturday morning, Allan and Jacob went to the hospital together. Mikey was

being discharged that day, and Allan had promised to help him get home. Jacob offered

to go along in case they needed any help getting Mikey in and out of the car. In the

elevator Allan said, “You’re going to like this. It’s going to give you a taste of what

Hollywood is really like. Mikey does everything in a grand way, and I’m sure being

discharged from the hospital is going to be interesting.”

“What do you mean?” Jacob asked. They were alone in the elevator, and his hand

was down the back of Allan’s pants.

The elevator came to a sudden stop. Allan lifted Jacob’s other hand and started

sucking his index finger. He wanted to drop his pants in the elevator and let Jacob fuck

him against the hard elevator wall, but it was too dangerous. When the doors opened, he

pulled his head back. “You’ll see what I mean,” Allan said. “Now take your hand out of

my pants before someone sees us and we get thrown out of here.”

They stepped out of the elevator and turned left. The hospital was quieter on

Saturday afternoon than it was on weekdays. There were only a few people in the hallway.

A technician in a pale blue uniform was folding white towels and a nurse was wiping the

end of her stethoscope. Everything seemed easier, as if the hospital were resting. When

they passed the nurses’ station, there was half the number of nurses at the desk. But when

they rounded a corner and saw Mikey’s room, everything changed. There were men

carrying out large sprays of flowers, and there were two tall men in dark suits standing

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beside the door. In the midst of all the nurses and aides wearing pastel cotton uniforms

and running shoes, they looked out of place and unwelcome. Their postures were straight

and their hands were clasped together below their belts. Allan heard Mikey’s voice

bellowing from the room. He was on the phone, talking louder and faster than usual.

They backed into a wall so a man with a large spray of roses could pass by. Allan

smiled and said, “I’m surprised Mikey didn’t call anyone from the press up to his room.

This is quieter than I expected it would be.”

“It looks like he’s planning an event instead of leaving the hospital,” Jacob said,

staring at the people walking in and out of Mikey’s room, rubbing his jaw, wondering

what was happening.

Allan

laughed.

“Everything is an event with Mikey.”

When they went into Mikey’s room, Mikey was standing on a crutch, leaning

against the window sill, talking on the phone to someone named Sharky. Allan didn’t

give it a second thought. Mikey had a lot of friends with names like Sharky and Rocky

and Lefty. Mikey was wearing baggy short pants that fell to his hips and exposed the

waistband of his underwear, black boots that hadn’t been laced properly, and a black see-

through shirt that hugged and advertised all the defined muscles on his flat torso. Mikey

nodded at Allan and Jacob, then told Sharky, “Just make sure the refrigerator is stocked

and I have everything I need. I’ll talk to you later.”

When he hung up, he smiled and said, “That was the guy at a gourmet food shop I

like downtown. I wanted to be sure there was plenty of food in the loft for a few days. I

ordered two cases of Yoo Hoo’s.”

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Allan knew Mikey had an appetite like a growing boy. He could eat anything and

never gain a pound. “How are you feeling? How’s your leg? You shouldn’t be standing

like that.” He pointed to the chair and lowered his eyebrows. “You should be sitting.”

“I’m good. My leg is fine,” Mikey said, waving him off. Then he noticed Jacob

standing in the doorway. He hopped across the room on one leg, with a crutch under his

arm, and shook Jacob’s hand. “Hey man,” he said, “I see \everything is good again with

you two.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “Did you give him what he needs last night

after you two made up?” Then he made a fist and moved it back and forth a few times.

“Mikey,” Allan shouted. “We’re in a hospital.” He didn’t want anyone to know

about his sex life. And he silently questioned the way Mikey spoke so differently to Jacob,

as if Jacob was one of his straight buddies. He wondered if Mikey would hold doors open

and pull chair out for Jacob.

Jacob smiled. “Let’s just say I took good care of him several times last night.”

“Jacob,” Allan shouted, “don’t encourage him. He’ll never stop.”

They ignored Allan. Mikey slapped Jacob on the arm and said, “I’m really liking

this guy, Allan, seriously. I was worried he’d be some uptight asshole with no sense of

humor. He’s nothing like I expected him to be.”

“Well, thanks, buddy,” Jacob said. “I like you, too.”

After that, they signed the discharge papers. Then the men in the dark suits helped

clear out the room and Allan pushed Mikey down to the lobby in a wheelchair. In the hall,

the nurses and aides stopped working to say goodbye to him. They smiled, wished him

well, and told him how much they were going to miss him. They promised they’d watch

all his TV shows, and told him they’d never forget meeting him. He signed nine

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autographs, and grabbed one blond nurse’s ass. In the elevator, he told Jacob the blond

nurse had given him one of the best blow jobs of his life while she’d been giving him a

sponge bath. “She sucked my dick so fucking hard,” Mikey said, “she fucking sucked the

sheets right into my ass crack, man.”

Allan just rolled his eyes and shook his head. It sounded like the punch line to a

bad sexist joke he’d once heard. He always clenched his teeth and held his breath when

Mikey talked about women this way, with that macho, straight-guy tone of voice. He

knew Mikey didn’t mean any harm, but it sounded degrading and just plain wrong.

But Jacob, wanting to prove he was just as macho as Mikey, made a fist, banged it

against Mikey’s fist, and said, “That’s so freaking awesome.”

Outside, there were a few photographers waiting for Mikey. Mikey wasn’t a huge

celebrity yet, and there wasn’t a swarm of paparazzi, but he was important enough to

garner some attention with the media. And Mikey had spread the word all over that he’d

broken his leg and he had been hospitalized. While Allan kept his head low and

concentrated on pushing the wheelchair to the limo, Mikey smiled and waved to his fans.

When they reached the limo he even stood up, grabbed his crotch, and jerked it up and

down like a true naughty boy.

One photographer shouted, “Hey Mikey, what are you doing with Jacob Steinman

from the XN Morning Show?”

Jacob gave Mikey a look and shrugged his shoulders. Jacob seemed surprised that

someone from the press had recognized him. “We’re good buddies,” Jacob shouted. “I’m

just helping him get home okay.”

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Allan wasn’t sure how Jacob felt about getting his picture taken with Mikey. He

hadn’t thought about that when he’d asked Jacob to come to the hospital with him. When

the limo pulled away from the curb, Allan apologized to him.

“What are you sorry about?” Jacob asked. “It was fun. Besides, there’s no such

thing as bad publicity. It might even help ratings on the show to be seen with a famous

TV celebrity like Mikey.”

“Thanks, man,” Mikey said. “But I’m not all that famous…yet.”

Allan rolled his eyes and looked out the window. He was glad they were bonding,

but it was starting to get on his nerves. Even though Jacob was still more conservative

and proper than Mikey, Allan was seeing a side of Jacob he hadn’t seen since college.

This was Jacob the rowdy football player, who swore and cursed with his football

buddies and told nasty, insensitive jokes about women. But Allan didn’t want to say

anything out loud. He didn’t want to be accused of being too extreme, or, God forbid, not

wanting to have fun. When they started talking about the Giants, Allan just sat back in his

seat and sighed. The two most important men in his life were actually getting along, and

he couldn’t have asked for more.

When they were inside Mikey’s loft and everything was settled, Allan went into

the living area. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I have two

announcements to make, Mikey,” Allan said. “Jacob knows about one. I told him all

about me as Acer on the show. You’re not going to like this, Mikey. But I want to talk

about it right now and get it out of the way.”

Mikey and Jacob were sitting on opposite ends of a long white leather sofa.

Mikey’s broken leg was propped up on a glass coffee table and Jacob was holding a can

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of beer. They had been watching football and drinking—now they looked at each other

and shrugged their shoulders.

Mikey reached for the remote and lowered the volume. He folded his arms across

his chest and made a serious face. He shrugged and said, “What is it? Are you pregnant?”

Jacob was sipping beer. When Mikey asked if Allan was pregnant, Jacob laughed

so hard he almost choked on the beer.

Allan took another deep breath; he wasn’t joking around. He’d been thinking

about these two things all afternoon. He ignored the pregnant comment and said, “My

contract is up for renewal at the end of the month, Mikey. I’m not coming back. I want to

take a break from The Naughty Boiz. I’ve been doing the show for a long time, Acer is at

the top of his form, and I’m starting to feel as if there’s nowhere else to go. Besides that,

Jacob was offered another job in Hollywood and I’m moving out there with him. I know

this is a shock, and I’m sorry if I’m letting you down. But I want to be with Jacob.” Then

he looked at Jacob and smiled. “He’s the most important thing in my life.”

Mikey stared down at his lap and frowned. He pressed his lips together and

reached for a can of beer on the coffee table. He took one long swallow, then he smiled

and said, “Actually, you just made my big announcement easy.”

“Announcement?” Allan tilted his head.

“I had a lot of time to think this past week,” Mikey said. “I also had a lot of time

to make a few deals. When the next two episodes of the show are over, it’s going to be

the end of The Naughty Boiz. You’re right. We’ve done a lot, we’re at the top, and I don’t

want the show getting tired and stale.”

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“Are you joking?” Allan looked at Jacob, then looked back at Mikey. This was

the last thing he’d expected to hear. He’d always pictured Mikey doing the show until he

was in his nineties.

“I’ve never been more serious,” Mikey said. “I was going to wait until next week

to tell you, but now is as good a time as any.”

“Wow,” Allan said. “I’m shocked. I can’t believe you’re ending The Naughty

Boiz.” He sat down in a white leather armchair and shook his head.

“Hold on,” Mikey said. He took another sip of beer and wiped his lips. “I didn’t

say it was the end of The Naughty Boiz. It’s just the end of the TV show. Last week I was

offered a great deal to do a feature film based on the TV show. We’re all going to

Hollywood. I want you to appear as Acer in the film. And don’t worry, it’s all going to be

shot in the Los Angeles area. There won’t be any travel. It will be just like what you’ve

always done, except now you’ll be doing it on the West Coast.”

“A feature film?”

“The money is huge.”

Allan turned to face Jacob. Jacob hadn’t said a word yet. “What do you think

about all this? If I did this, would you mind?”

Jacob spread his arms wide and smiled. “It’s perfect timing. I think you should do

it.”

Allan stared down at the table and thought about the film. He’d been looking

forward to working on his career in journalism and putting the Acer part of his life behind

him. The presidential election was starting to move forward and he wanted to be part of it,

offering all the support he could to Senator Amos. This was the political event of a

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lifetime; it was history in the making. But he didn’t want to let Mikey down either, and

he knew the film wouldn’t be the same without him.

So he looked up at Mikey and said, “I’ll do it. But I’m only signing to do one film

right now.” He knew Mikey was ambitious and he was thinking ahead. “I can’t promise

I’ll do any sequels. If that’s okay with you, I’ll go for it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mikey said. “Fuck, man, I was worried you wouldn’t go to

Hollywood because of this guy.” He pointed his thumb at Jacob. “This is fucking too

perfect.” Then, in a rare moment of honesty for Mikey, he lowered his voice and said,

“And it’s time for a change. I never talk about it, but I’m just as sick and tired of the TV

show as you are. This is going to be good. Best of all, I’ll still be there to protect my little

gay buddy.” He pounded his chest, hooted a few times, and shook his fists in the air.

“You’re an asshole,” Allan said, throwing a pillow at Mikey.

Mikey crushed the beer can and tossed it behind his head. “I know. And that’s

why you love me so much.”

“What was the other announcement you were going to make?” Jacob asked. “You

said there were two announcements.”

Allan was so excited about the news, he almost forgot about the second thing he

wanted to tell them. He hadn’t even spoken to Jacob about this yet. “I’m coming out of

the closet, so to speak.”

Mikey’s eyes were glossy from the beer. He tilted his head sideways and rubbed

his chin. “But everyone already knows you like dick, not pussy,” he said. “I thought you

came out of the closet a long time ago. I don’t get it.”

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“Not that closet, you asshole,” Allan said. “I’m going public with my identity as

Acer. No more black ski mask. I’m going to use Acer as a platform, to promote political

and social issues I believe in.” He swallowed back and took a quick breath. “Are you

guys okay with this?”

Mikey and Jacob exchanged quick glances, then looked at Allan.

Mikey said, “I’m cool with it. As long as you are. We’re going to get a lot more

publicity now and everyone is going to know you as that gay dude, with the great ass and

smooth legs, in the leopard thong. Can you handle it?” His eyebrows were pointed down

and he leaned forward. He wasn’t joking this time. He was truly concerned about Allan’s

well being. “Once you do it, there’s no going back.”

“I’m tired of being anonymous,” Allan said. “I can handle the publicity as long as

you can handle the fact that I’m going to be openly gay, both on the show and off. I’m

not going to hide who I am.”

“I don’t care,” Mikey said. “As long as you keep doing the stupid Acer stunts, I

don’t think the public will care either. It might even make the film better now. I can

really be the straight guy looking out for my helpless gay buddy. After all, we’ve been

playing on that angle for a long time without actually admitting it. Best of all, everyone

will think you’re so gay for me.”

“They will not,” Allan said.

“Ah yeah,” Mikey said. “They will. Most of them already think you’re gay for me.

Hell, if I were you, I’d be gay for me.”

Jacob stood up and crossed to where Allan was sitting. He bent down, grabbed the

back of his head, and kissed him on the lips. “I can live with it, too. But, just so you know,

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I can’t formally come out and announce I’m gay. The network wouldn’t like it, and right

now I can’t afford to piss them off. We can’t announce we are a couple either. People can

guess whatever they want—we just can’t go public about our relationship.”

Mikey smiled. “Sounds good to me, man.”

Allan gave Mikey a look and sighed, and his stomach turned. This was the kind of

self-loathing thought process he’d always fought to change. It was don’t ask, don’t tell:

you’re good enough to fight for your country but not good enough to openly admit you’re

gay while you’re fighting. This request from Jacob, Allan knew, was not unusual for gay

men with high public profiles, especially in show business, politics, and journalism. They

were everywhere; they just never came out and admitted it openly. Jacob was letting him

know he’d be just like Grayer Crowley and the other gay guys at the XN Network. And it

wasn’t just the XN Network. Some of the most liberal, left-wing television shows had

gay hosts who never admitted in public that they were gay. Jacob wouldn’t actually deny

he was gay, but he wouldn’t address the issue one way or the other. And because there

had always been an unspoken rule about this, no one in the press would ever question

him.

The thought of not being completely open about his love for Jacob made Allan’s

lips tighten. As a couple, they deserved better. But he didn’t want to lose Jacob over this

issue. He didn’t want to argue about it and force Jacob to admit he was gay. But more

than that, he didn’t want to be accused of being too extreme and too political. So he

smiled and said, “I can live with that.”

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Jacob kissed him again, harder this time. He stuck his tongue into Allan’s mouth

and Allan’s arms fell slowly to his sides. When their tongues locked this way, nothing

was more important to Allan than his love for Jacob.

Mikey opened another can of beer with a loud click and belched. While they were

kissing, he grunted and said, “This is so fucking gay. Jacob, if you’re going to bend him

over and fuck him right now, just let me know. I’ll go into the bedroom. I’m not well

enough for this.”

“We’re finished,” Allan said. “Calm down, straight boy.” Then he stood up and

crossed into the kitchen area to reheat a platter of buffalo chicken wings that Mikey had

ordered from the guy named Sharky.

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Chapter Fifteen

Allan and Jacob bought a five-thousand-square-foot house in the Holmby Hills

neighborhood of western Los Angeles so Jacob wouldn’t have to commute too far to

work. It was a white modern structure, with walls of glass, slate paths, and a limited plant

pallet. The white interior had a wide open floor plan, with imported bamboo floors and

minimalist design to create a peaceful zen atmosphere. It wasn’t the biggest mansion in

what was considered the “Platinum Triangle” of Los Angeles. But it was grander than

anything Jacob could have afforded without Allan.

Jacob had wanted to buy something smaller in a less affluent neighborhood. But

when Allan told him about all the money he’d made doing The Naughty Boiz, he finally

agreed to work out a deal where Allan would make a large down payment on the Holmby

Hills house and he’d handle the mortgage with his salary from his new TV show. But it

hadn’t been easy to get him to agree to this. Jacob wasn’t thrilled about using Allan’s

money. He said he felt inadequate about not having as much money as Allan, and Allan

spent a long time convincing him that they were a couple now, and that all of his money

was Jacob’s. Even though they couldn’t get married legally, they had to work hard to

think like legally married couples thought. After a few long talks, and a few expert blow

jobs from Allan, Jacob finally agreed to buy the house.

Allan had never spent much money. In New York, his apartment had been small,

his wardrobe had been plain, and he’d pretended he didn’t have money so no one would

find out he was Acer. Now that he was in a solid relationship with Jacob, and now that

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he’d finally announced to the world that he was Acer, he wanted to enjoy some of the

money he’d worked so hard to earn. For him, this was his home.

Mikey bought a place in Malibu, which didn’t surprise Jacob or Allan. It was right

on the beach, the ocean views were outrageous, and it was perfect for entertaining large

or small gatherings. Now that he was making a feature film of The Naughty Boiz he was

working harder than ever. He told Allan he’d always wanted a place on the beach, where

he could relax and forget about work. Mikey had never been one of those people who

required a lot of sleep. But when he did finally crash, he went down hard.

As the months passed, their new lives fell into place before they even had a

chance to know it was happening. They officially became a monogamous couple. They

were both tested for HIV/AIDS, and both tests came back negative. This was an event,

because it meant they could stop using condoms. The first time Jacob fucked Allan raw

he sighed and said, “God, you’re as soft as silk.” And Allan closed his eyes and said, “I

want all of you now. Every last ounce.”

Allan and Mikey started shooting the feature film a month after they moved to the

West Coast and Jacob slipped right into his new TV show as if he’d been doing it all his

life. In what little spare time he had, Allan started writing a political column for The

Harrington Post, a liberal blog that focused on left-wing issues like equal rights for the

LGBT community. The publisher liked the fact that he already had a famous name, that

he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was openly gay, and that he was willing to use his name

for political purposes. He wrote pieces about the presidential race, supporting Senator

Amos with so much passion he couldn’t type fast enough. And he wrote pieces about

LGBT issues that included the legalization of marriage for gay couples and bills about

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hate crimes. He did this at night, while Jacob was watching television, on a laptop at

small desk in their media room. When he was finished writing, he was usually so wound

up the only thing that calmed him was ripping off all his clothes and riding Jacob’s dick.

On weekends, they usually drove out to Mikey’s place in Malibu. When there

wasn’t a large party, the three of them spent hours on Mikey’s sailboat, and afterward

they’d grill steaks and talk until they couldn’t keep their eyes open. Sometimes Jacob and

Mikey would watch sports on TV (Mikey had some kind of satellite that received every

sports channel in the universe; Jacob called it “heaven”) while Allan worked on his

column. Other times they played poker and Allan usually wound up losing. He had never

been a huge fan of poker, or any card games. As far as he was concerned, there was a

certain amount of skill involved, but playing cards, to him, was mostly about pure luck.

And Allan didn’t believe in the concept of luck. He believed in working hard and making

his own luck, while concentrating on solid tangible concepts. But it made him smile to

watch Jacob and Mikey compete with each other. Neither one of them liked to lose.

One night toward the end of their first summer on the West Coast, Mikey

suggested they play poker. It was late, around midnight. He and Jacob had just come back

from a walk on the beach and Mikey had an evil grin on his face. They’d been drinking

beer and tossing a football. But Allan was busy and he didn’t want to play cards. The

favored Democratic candidate was about to lose another state to Senator Amos in the

primary elections and he wanted to finish writing a fresh piece about it that weekend for

The Harrington Post. He stared down at his laptop and shook his head no. He told them

to watch TV instead.

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But when Jacob kissed the back of his neck and said, “We want to play strip

poker,” Allan’s eyes opened wide and he stopped typing. He looked up at Jacob, then at

Mikey and said, “Huh?” Jacob was on his left, Mikey on his right.

“We want to play strip poker,” Jacob repeated. “Mikey said you’d never go for it.

But I said you would. If you say no, I’m out one hundred bucks to this guy.” He swung

his thumb in Mikey’s direction and laughed.

Allan turned toward Mikey. Mikey was still grinning. “What are you up to?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Mikey shouted, throwing his arms up in surrender. Then he

poked Jacob in the ribs and laughed.

“It was my idea,” Jacob said. “Mikey said you’d never go for it. And I bet him

one hundred bucks you would. Don’t let me down.”

Mikey laughed even louder, holding his stomach. “I told you he’d say no. He’s

too busy worrying about his column.”

Allan gave Jacob a long, chary look. He wasn’t sure what was motivating Mikey,

but he knew what was motivating Jacob. Since they’d been together, Allan had seen a

side of Jacob he didn’t know existed back in college. Besides enjoying some harmless

dirty talk during sex, he had a passion for risky sex. Not risky sex for him; risky for Allan.

He liked Allan to strip down in front of open windows and walk around naked while he

watched. A couple of times he asked Allan to take off all his clothes while they were

driving down the freeway in heavy traffic, and give him blow jobs.

Allan smiled and closed his laptop. He raised one eyebrow and looked at Mikey.

“Let’s do it,” he said. “I’m game.” Then he pointed at Mikey. “But the rules apply to you,

too. If you lose, you have to take off all your clothes.”

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“Hey, you know I always play fair,” Mikey said. “If I wind up losing, I’ll be the

one sitting here the naked loser.”

Two hours later, Allan was sitting at the table wearing nothing but his white boxer

briefs. No matter how hard he tried, the cards just never came to him. He was holding a

pair of deuces this time, the best hand he’d had all night, hoping he’d win at least one

hand. Mikey had only lost a few hands; he’d removed his shoes and his watch. Jacob had

lost a few, too. But he’d only removed his shoes, socks, and baseball cap. Allan held his

cards still and his lips straight. He tried to remain expressionless. He didn’t want them to

know he was only holding a pair of deuces. He figured his only chance this time was to

bluff his way through the hand, or else he’d wind up totally naked and the game would be

over. He tried not to look at them. He knew they were smiling, sitting there fully clothed,

waiting for him to fold.

When Mikey finally laid down his cards, he showed three kings. Jacob had a pair

of queens. They both leaned forward, with their elbows on the table, waiting for Allan to

put his cards down. Allan sighed and pouted, and when he dropped his hand on the table

and they saw his deuces, they laughed so hard they sounded like monkeys hooting at the

zoo.

“Take it all off now,” Mikey shouted, slapping his knee. “Don’t be a sore naked

loser.” Then he lifted his palm and slammed it against Jacob’s.

Allan shrugged his shoulders and stood up from the table. He wasn’t sure what

Mikey was thinking, but he knew Jacob loved every minute of this strip show. He

stepped away from the chair, turned so his back was facing both guys, and slowly

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removed his boxer briefs. When he was naked, he looked over his shoulder and said, “I

hope you’re both happy now.”

The guys went dead silent. A minute passed and then Mikey stood up and moved

to where Allan was standing. He put his palm on the small of Allan’s naked back and said,

“Jacob and I were talking tonight.”

“About what?” Allan asked. Mikey’s breath smelled like beer and he was slurring

his words.

Then Jacob stood up and placed his palm on Allan’s bare ass, just below Mikey’s

hand. He squeezed Allan’s flesh a few times and said, “About you. Mikey was curious

about what we do in bed.”

This was all beginning to make sense to Allan. The guys wanted to do more than

just play strip poker. Jacob had once told Allan that one of his sexual fantasies was to

watch him getting fucked by another guy. Jacob had made it clear he didn’t want to make

a habit out of doing this, but thought it would be sexy to watch once in a while. They’d

talked about it openly, as lovers and intelligent, consenting adults, and Allan had agreed

that if the opportunity ever came about, he’d grant Jacob his sexual fantasy without

thinking twice. He just never thought it would happen with Mikey, his best friend. But in

all honesty he couldn’t say that he wasn’t sexually attracted to Mikey.

“But you’re not gay,” Allan said, looking over his shoulder at Mikey.

Mikey rubbed the small of his back and said, “I know. But you’ve got a great ass

and I’m horny as hell tonight. Besides, you know I’ve always been kind of curious. I’ve

fucked a lot of women in the ass, but never a guy.”

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“So you want to fuck me?” Allan asked, laughing at how bold and presumptuous

Mikey could be.

Mikey rubbed his back and said, “That’s the plan, buddy.”

Allan arched his back and spread his legs wider. He had just had his entire body

waxed for the film. Now that they were shooting a feature film, he paid attention to

details. When he wore the leopard thong, he wanted his entire body to be smooth and

silky, with just a small patch of hair above his genitals.

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” Allan said. His penis was erect by then and his heart

was racing. He was standing there naked, with the two men he loved most in the world,

and they were practically begging to have sex with him.

When they crossed into the bedroom, Jacob climbed into bed and rested on his

back. He pressed his head against the pillows and spread his legs apart. He was wearing

baggy short pants that day and a loose white T-shirt. He didn’t bother to undress. Mikey

grabbed Allan by the waist and guided him up to the bed. This gesture looked polite, but

Allan knew Mikey was letting him know he was the man in charge, the guy on top. His

strong hands felt rough and Allan could feel the calluses on his palms from lifting

weights. But he was gentle, too. When Allan was on the bed, he ran his hand down

Allan’s ass and whispered, “I’ll get a condom and some lube.”

Allan crawled up between Jacob’s legs and unzipped Jacob’s pants. He reached

inside and pulled out Jacob’s erection. Then he spread his legs, arched his back so his ass

would be high for Mikey, and started sucking Jacob off. While he sucked, he ran his

hands up Jacob’s short pants and squeezed his hairy thighs. He heard Mikey undressing

at the foot of the bed. There was a mirror over the headboard of Mikey’s bed. Allan took

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a quick look, with Jacob’s dick still in his mouth. Mikey had removed all his clothes and

he was now tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth.

When the condom was on his dick, Mikey climbed up on the bed and kneeled

behind Allan. He squirted some lube on Allan’s opening. It felt cold and it tickled for a

moment; a chill passed through his body. Then Mikey started rubbing the lube all around

Allan’s hole. He worked slowly, making sure he covered everything, then slowly inserted

his index finger and moved it around in circles. When Mikey’s finger was all the way

inside, Allan started sucking Jacob harder. He closed his eyes, lifted his ass higher, and

made soft moans. Each time Mikey’s finger went clockwise, he pressed his tongue harder

on Jacob’s shaft.

Then Mikey inserted a second finger, the index finger from his other hand. Allan

moaned out loud that time; he couldn’t help himself. With both fingers, Mikey carefully

spread Allan’s hole apart, his motions slow, calculated. Allan opened his eyes again and

when he looked into the mirror over the headboard, Mikey was watching him suck

Jacob’s dick. Mikey smiled and winked at Allan, then while Allan was still looking into

his eyes, he pulled both fingers out of Allan’s ass, grabbed his dick, and slowly slipped it

into Allan’s body. There was no pain this time, just absolute completeness and sheer

pleasure.

When Mikey started bucking his hips, Allan, still looking into the mirror, nodded

yes and started rotating his hips. For some reason, Allan had always imagined Mikey to

be a sloppy, jagged lover who didn’t care about his partner’s pleasure and only cared

about his own orgasm. But he’d been wrong. The only thing Mikey seemed to care about

was Allan’s pleasure. He fucked with a constant rhythm, knowing just when to pull back

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and just when to go deep. And when Mikey went deep, he hit the most sensitive spot in

Allan’s body. This was the place where Allan’s climax began and ended—the place that

could make his toes curl back and rock his entire body.

Allan closed his eyes and swallowed Jacob until the head of his prick hit the back

of his throat. Jacob grabbed the sides of Allan’s head with both hands and started pulling

it up and down. Allan released all muscle control in his neck, allowing Jacob to guide his

head in any direction. Allan’s lips grew puffy and red and his tongue bonded to Jacob’s

shaft. Allan had never done a three-way before. He felt as if he couldn’t spread his legs

wide enough for Mikey, or suck hard enough for Jacob.

About fifteen minutes later, they changed positions. This was Jacob’s idea. He

said he wanted to watch Allan get fucked on his back. So Allan went to the middle of the

bed and lay on his back with his head resting on the edge of the mattress. Jacob got up

and stood at the edge of the bed, with his balls hanging over Allan’s face. Mikey crawled

up between Allan’s legs and lifted them over his shoulders. He looked down between

Allan’s legs for a second, guided his cock back inside Allan’s opening, and started

bucking his hips again. Mikey had excellent control. His entire body remained still,

except for his hips.

This time Mikey didn’t fuck slowly. His face turned red and he clenched his teeth.

He banged into Allan’s ass so hard the bed shook. His balls slapped against the bottom of

Allan’s ass with snaps and beads of perspiration dripped from his temples onto Allan’s

stomach. Allan grabbed one of Mikey’s rugged thighs for support, then grabbed his own

dick and started jerking off. Jacob was watching Mikey fuck him, jerking off over Allan’s

face. Jacob’s balls were swinging and his knuckles were rubbing against Allan’s nose.

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A few minutes later, Mikey whispered, “I’m getting close, really close.”

“Go, man,” Jacob said. “I’m close, too.”

Mikey looked down at Allan and asked, “Are you okay?”

Allan looked into Mikey’s eyes and nodded. He wanted to thank him for asking,

but he smiled and said, “I’m good.”

Actually, Allan had been close for a while. Mikey’s cock had been hitting his

sensitive spot and he’d been controlling his climax so he wouldn’t come too soon. So he

clamped down on Mikey’s dick with the lips of his hole to create more pressure. He

squeezed as hard as he could. When he did this, Mikey’s eyes opened wide and he pursed

his lips as if he were about to whistle.

“Keep squeezing my dick,” Mikey said. “Don’t stop. Squeeze it harder.”

A minute after that, Mikey started to grunt.

And Jacob said, “Open your mouth.”

Allan opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

They all climaxed within seconds of each other. Mikey came first. He grunted

again, slammed Allan’s ass five more times, then went into his Allan’s body as deeply as

he could. He stopped moving so he could fill the condom. He grabbed the backs of

Allan’s thighs and made a face that looked like a cross between a grimace and a broad

smile. And as Mikey filled the condom, Jacob and Allan came together. Allan came on

his own stomach; Jacob came all over Allan’s face and most of his load landed on Allan’s

tongue. Allan closed his eyes and swallowed it all.

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Mikey didn’t pull out right away. He started bucking his hips slowly, with a big

grin on his face. “I always had this feeling you were a good fuck,” he said. He slapped

Allan’s ass. “It feels like I just stuck my dick into a fucking pinhole.”

Allan wouldn’t have said something as harsh as that. But he knew that in Mikey’s

crude way, this was a compliment. His left ankle was resting on Mikey’s shoulder, and

his right foot was pressed against Mikey’s chest. He smiled and said, “I’m actually

surprised. I always thought you’d suck in bed.”

“Seriously?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah, but I was dead wrong.”

Mikey bit his bottom lip and slapped Allan’s ass hard.

“Hey, that hurt,” Allan shouted. “I’m not your bitch, you big donkey.” He

sounded as if he was protesting, but deep down he was enjoying every minute of the

attention from both guys.

“You love being my bitch and you know it,” Mikey said.

Jacob bent down and kissed Allan on the lips. “This was really hot,” he said.

Allan laughed. “I can’t believe we actually did it, though.” He didn’t want this to

change things between them. He didn’t want Mikey avoiding him now, because they’d

just had sex. He knew sex could change things, especially when it involved two friends

who had never had sex with each other.

Mikey turned his head and kissed Allan’s ankle. “I’m glad Jacob agreed,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let me fuck you.” Then he pulled out fast and climbed

off the bed. His dick was still fairly hard and Allan thought he looked cute with the

condom dangling between his legs. Mikey’s dick wasn’t as large or as thick as Jacob’s

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dick, but he certainly knew what to do with it. And the way he shuffled off to the

bathroom, scratching his balls as if he’d just woken from a deep sleep, made Allan smile.

When Mikey closed the bathroom door, Allan rose to his knees and put his arms

around Jacob. “I’m curious about something,” he said. “I thought Mikey said you were

the one who wanted to do this three-way thing tonight. I thought you had to talk Mikey

into doing it.”

Jacob kissed him on the lips and said, “We both kind of discussed it earlier

tonight, and we both thought it would be hot. But to be honest, it never even occurred to

me until Mikey approached me about doing it a month ago.”

“A month ago?” This was news to Allan.

“At first I wasn’t sure about it,” Jacob said. “I thought you might think it was

creepy because he’s your best friend and all. But he kept bringing the subject up. He said

it was just sex and he only wanted to fuck you once. He said he was curious about what

gay guys did in bed.” Jacob laughed and shook his head. “Actually, Mikey said, ‘I’ve

been dying to tag Allan’s ass for years.’”

Allan didn’t get a chance to reply. Mikey stormed out of the bathroom and tossed

him a warm, wet rag. “I’m fucking starved,” he said. “I’m going to raid the refrigerator.

You guys want anything?” He was wearing a clean pair of white boxer shorts and white

socks. He must have splashed water all over his face and head, because his dark hair was

wet and it was sticking up all over the place. He looked as if he’d just been fucking.

“I am kind of hungry,” Jacob said. “I think I’ll get something to eat, too. You

want anything?”

“I want to clean up first,” Allan said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

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“I love you,” Jacob said.

Then he kissed Allan’s forehead and turned to leave the room. Jacob’s hair was

still perfect, each strand in place. When he put his dick back into his pants on the way out,

it didn’t even look as if he’d just had sex. Allan wiped his chest with the wet rag, then he

climbed off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. On his way, he tripped over a pair

of Mikey’s big running shoes. He didn’t fall, though. He just lost his balance for a second.

Mikey was a slob; he left his shoes all over the place and couldn’t care less. Allan

reached down, picked up the shoes, and smiled at them. He ran his palm across the laces

and shook his head. Then he placed them beside the bed and sighed out loud, hoping

what had just happened between them wouldn’t alter their friendship.

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Chapter Sixteen

After the three-way, Jacob, Allan, and Mikey went back to their normal routines

without any problems—or confusion—at all. The only difference in Allan and Mikey’s

friendship was that Mikey started making funny comments when no one was watching.

One afternoon on the movie set Allan was having trouble with a new costume. He’d

started wearing a see-through black body jock instead of the leopard thong in several

scenes. The crotch area of the body jock, where his penis protruded, was concealed. But

this was still a jock and Allan’s ass was completely exposed. On the afternoon of the

incident, Allan was having trouble fastening the black straps to the sides of the jock.

They hooked to the hip section with sexy little sliver clasps. He was outside his the trailer

looking into a full-length mirror. When no one was looking, Mikey stepped up behind

him and grabbed one of the straps. He straightened the shoestring piece of fabric out,

running his fingers up and down Allan’s ass, then hooked the strap to the body jock. He

smiled and said, “I was wondering if your butt is still as soft as I remember.”

“Get out of here, you fool,” Allan said. “Someone might see you and get the

wrong idea.” But he was smiling. He knew Mikey was only teasing him.

“I don’t care who sees me,” he said. Then he patted Allan’s ass lightly and walked

back to the set.

On other occasions, Mikey made jokes about Allan’s ass in front of Jacob. When

Allan wasn’t looking, he’d walk up behind him and buck his hips in exaggerated motions.

Jacob thought it was hysterical, which only encouraged Mikey to continue. Allan would

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smile and shake his head. He knew Mikey was only joking around, and he liked the fact

that Jacob got along so well with Mikey he didn’t seem to mind. If anyone else had joked

around with Allan like that, Jacob would have slugged them.

* * * *

On the night of the presidential election, Mikey threw a huge party in Malibu.

Though Mikey hadn’t been as actively involved in campaigning for Senator Amos as

Allan had been, he had made large financial contributions to the Democratic Party. He

probably wouldn’t have contributed anything if it hadn’t been for Allan. Not because he

didn’t wan to support Senator Amos. It just wouldn’t have occurred to him. But Allan

wasn’t going to let Mikey ignore one of the most important political events of his lifetime.

While Jacob, Mikey, and most of the guests drank and had fun at the party, Allan

sat in Mikey’s media room staring at the television. There were a few other people with

him. They all sat on the edge of their seats with their elbows on their knees, waiting for

the results. When Senator Amos’s opponent conceded the race, the entire house exploded

with cheers and screams and whistles. But Allan didn’t jump up and down and scream.

He sat back on the sofa, took a deep breath, and sighed out loud.

Jacob and Mikey came running into the media room. Jacob grabbed Allan and

pulled him up from the sofa. He gave him a tight hug and said, “You must be thrilled.

You worked hard to help create history tonight. No one ever thought this guy could win.”

Allan gave Mikey a look. He smiled and nodded. “It’s spectacular,” he said. “I am

thrilled.”

“Then why don’t you look like you are?” Jacob asked. His head was tilted to the

side and he was scratching the back of his neck as if he didn’t understand.

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“They passed Proposition Eight,” Allan said. “Do you know what this means for

gay Californians?” Allan had been worried about this proposition all through the election.

Proposition Eight, or The California Marriage Protection Act, overturned a ruling by the

California Supreme Court to make gay marriage illegal. Basically, it stated that “only

marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.” As far as

Allan was concerned, this was a huge step backward for the LGBT community

everywhere, and it made the fight for equal rights seem almost impossible now.

“It can be changed,” Jacob said. “Come on, let’s go out and have some fun.

Everyone is celebrating right now.”

But Allan didn’t feel like having fun. He wanted to gather a large group and

march down to the largest voting center in Los Angeles and start protesting that night.

And he wanted Jacob to do it with him. But all Jacob wanted to do was mix another

martini and enjoy the party. So Allan smiled and said, “You go out. I’ll be there in a few

minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Jacob asked.

“I’m fine. I’ll be right there.”

When Jacob was gone, Mikey gave him a hug. “Give him a break,” he said. He

was talking about the way Jacob had reacted to Proposition Eight being passed. “You

can’t blame him for not being as passionate about these things as you are. He’s a decent

guy. He means well.”

Allan leaned into Mikey’s chest and closed his eyes. He sighed and said, “I just

don’t understand it. You’re not even gay and you can see how I feel about this. Jacob is

my partner and he couldn’t care less. Am I missing something?”

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Mikey squeezed him hard. “He can’t help himself,” he said.

“I suppose you’re right,” Allan said. “Let’s go inside and try to have some fun.

And I’ll try not to be too extreme about this.”

But the next day Allan wrote an in-depth column about Proposition Eight for The

Harrington Post. Then he went out to participate in as many protests and demonstrations

as he could find. He went to places where he knew he could get the most attention with

his famous naughty boy face. He carried protest signs, chanted about freedom, and

marched with other gay men and women to show his strong opposition. Local news

media captured him on film; he spoke openly with the reporters and did not try to conceal

his identity to anyone. He told them he was proud of being a gay American, and that he

was going to work hard to change what had just happened in California. He was even

approached by a news reporter for the XN Network for a quick interview. Even though he

knew that XN was anti-gay marriage, he didn’t back away from the reporter. He squared

his shoulders, answered each question as honestly as he could, and looked directly into

the camera as if he had nothing to hide.

Later that night, while he was working on another column about Proposition Eight

and Jacob was watching television, the XN Network aired his interview. They aired it on

one of those political pundit programs, where the host of the show was known for making

snide remarks about gay marriage and equal rights for gay Americans. This pundit

catered to ultra-conservatives—he loved banning books—and he took pleasure in making

gay men like Allan look foolish. First, the host showed a full-length photo of Allan as

Acer, wearing a leopard thong on the TV show. He made a few tongue-in-cheek

comments and shrugged his shoulders, as if Allan couldn’t be taken seriously. Then he

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took Allan’s comments completely out of context. He made Allan look like he was trying

to ruin society and bash the entire concept of traditional marriage. By the end of the

interview, Allan came off looking like a freak show in a carnival.

Jacob stared at the TV and rubbed his jaw. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he

didn’t say a word.

“It wasn’t like that,” Allan shouted. “This guy is taking everything I said out of

context to make me look like some lunatic on the fringes of society.” He gritted his teeth

and started thinking about his reply to the host of the show. Now that he had a platform in

The Harrington Post, at least he knew he’d get a chance to defend himself and set the

record straight with his own column. His career as Acer, though harmless, didn’t give

him any credibility whatsoever. However, he was working hard with his pieces for The

Harrington Post to gain more respect. So far, among leaders in the LGBT community,

he’d earned this respect.

Jacob didn’t say a word. He continued to stare at the TV screen long after the

interview was over. Only now his fist was clenched and he was biting his knuckles.

“You’re not happy, are you?” Allan asked.

Eventually, Jacob turned and lifted his arms. He clenched his fists as if he was

about to shout, and then he took a deep breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was low

and even. “You should know better by now that these guys on these political pundit

shows are going to do this sort of thing. You’re a professional, for heaven’s sake. You

know how to deal with the press. Why on earth would you set yourself up this way? And

set me up this way? I could lose my job.”

“They didn’t mention your name, or that we are partners,” Allan said.

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“But they all know. They’d never mention me in public. But I’ll bet they all got a

huge laugh today.” He punched a pillow. “I hate to see us being laughed at.”

Allan shrugged his shoulders and smiled. He knew that when Jacob was mad

about something like this, his best bet was to try and calm him down. “I guess I got too

extreme again,” he said. “You know silly, overly sensitive me. I tend to get that way

sometimes about these things.” He was trying to make a joke about it, as if he’d just

dented the car fender or flushed paper towels down the toilet. “I made a mistake.”

Jacob stood up and pressed his lips together. His face was red and his eyes were

bulging. He turned and looked at Allan as if he was about to shout. Then he stormed out

of the house, without saying a word, and went for a long drive.

By Friday evening, Jacob had calmed down. They were going to the premiere of

a new independent film that had been produced by one of Mikey’s friends, and Mikey

was picking them up in the limo. While they were getting dressed, Jacob jumped into the

shower with Allan. He pushed him up against the glass tiles, spread his ass apart, and

mounted him against the wall. Jacob gave it to him hard, literally pinning him there with

gentle force, and Allan didn’t try to fight him off. Allan extended his arms and pressed on

the tiles with his palms. He spread his legs apart and stood on his tiptoes. They didn’t

have much time, but Allan didn’t care if they were late and Mikey had to wait outside in

the car. Allan had been fighting and protesting Proposition Eight all week, and Jacob had

been ignoring him. This was the first time they’d fucked since before the election and it

seemed as if Jacob was ready to explode.

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When they left the house, Mikey was outside waiting for them in the limo. Their

faces were red and Jacob’s hair was still damp from the shower. Mikey took one look at

them and poked Jacob in the ribs. “You just fucked him, didn’t you?”

“I don’t normally kiss and tell,” Jacob said. “But if you really want to know, I

fucking nailed him into the wall, man. He was begging for more.”

Mikey punched Jacob in the ribs and hooted in approval.

Allan sat back in the seat and rolled his eyes. He never understood the need that

some men had to brag about sex. With Mikey and Jacob it seemed to be an obsession.

Mikey told Jacob every intimate detail of his sex life with women, and Jacob couldn’t

wait to brag about how often he fucked Allan. For Allan, the sex they had just had in the

bathroom had been about their love and the absolute, unyielding intimacy they shared. If

Allan thought about it too long, tears welled up in his eyes. However, for Jacob it

sounded like another notch on the bedpost, and Mikey was there on the sidelines to cheer

him on.

The movie turned out to be a gothic horror, with dark humor and an arty flair that

neither Jacob nor Mikey liked. Allan thought of himself as being open to all art forms,

including this movie, and he forced himself to pay attention without forming an opinion

too soon. But Jacob and Mikey didn’t make it easy. Allan sat between them. When

Mikey’s leg wasn’t vibrating up and down, Jacob was yawning and nodding off to sleep.

Allan kept grabbing Mikey’s knee. He had to poke Jacob in the ribs numerous times to

wake him up. When the film was finally over and it was time to leave, Mikey and Jacob

jumped up at the same time. They looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Then Mikey

turned to leave, and Jacob practically pushed Allan out of the row and down the aisle.

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When they exited the theater, there were rows of fans cheering. There were

photographers snapping photos and Grayson Crowley, of all people, was doing

interviews on the red carpet for the XN Network. Toward the end of the red carpet, near a

long line of cars, Allan noticed protesters. They were holding large signs about

Proposition Eight and they were shouting about gay marriage. But they weren’t shouting

for gay marriage and equal rights. They were shouting against everything Allan stood for.

These were the people who wanted to block everyone’s equal rights, the people whom

Allan had been fighting all of his life.

When the protesters saw Allan, they recognized him and started shouting his

name. One guy in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap crossed through the rope and ran up to

where Allan was standing on the red carpet. He was carrying a sign that read, “Keep

Marriage Pure. Don’t Let Perverts Ruin Our Country.”

“You should be thrown into jail,” the guy shouted in Allan’s face.

“Why?” Allan shouted back. “Because I want equal rights? Because I want to live

my life just like you? Because I believe in all the best things about America and I believe

in freedom?”

“You’re a fucking fag and a pervert,” the guy shouted.

By that time, the other protesters were crossing the rope and there didn’t seem to

be enough security to contain them. One man pushed another to the ground and a fight

broke out.

Jacob grabbed Allan’s arm and started pulling him to the limo. The crowd started

to shout Allan’s name while reporters shoved microphones into Allan’s face. Mikey had

been talking to Grayer Crowley about his new movie, trying to plug it early. When he

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saw what was happening, he ran up to Allan’s side and grabbed his other arm. And while

they were pulling Allan to the limo, the guy in the plaid shirt shouted, “You’ll burn in

hell, you filthy pervert!” Then he reached out and tried to grab the lapel on Allan’s jacket.

“Maybe someone should beat some sense into you, cocksucking freak,” he shouted.

When the guy grabbed Allan’s lapel, Jacob released Allan’s arm and went after

him. He pushed the guy in the plaid shirt to the ground. The guy fell backward, then got

up and punched Jacob right in the mouth. He punched hard. Jacob lost his balance and

almost fell. Allan grabbed him and kept him balanced, while Mikey swung his fist and

knocked the guy in the plaid shirt out cold.

Grayer Crowley came running over, without TV cameras from the network. He

grabbed Jacob’s arm and pushed all three of them toward the limo. “Someone called the

police,” he said, walking fast. “Get out of here now. The last thing Jacob needs is this

kind of publicity. The network won’t like it.” Then he frowned at Allan, as if Allan had

committed a mortal sin, and shook his chubby head.

When they were inside and the car was speeding away from the theater, Allan

reached into a compartment between the seats for a clean napkin. He handed it to Jacob

and asked, “Are you okay?” He knew this had all happened because the guy in the plaid

shirt had recognized him. And he knew Jacob wasn’t happy about it. Allan tried to make

light of it. He even tried to crack a few jokes. But his hands were still shaking and his

stomach was in knots. He’d never imagined people would become so violent, especially

the same people who claimed to be fighting for the good of civilization.

Jacob just took the towel and pressed it to his bleeding lip. He didn’t laugh and he

didn’t smile. Mikey looked out the window and tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

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“I don’t know how much more I can take,” Jacob said. “I don’t like being

assaulted at film premieres. I don’t like violence at all. I want to walk down the red carpet

and smile and answer questions from fans and reporters. I don’t want to fistfight with

lunatics about political issues.”

“It’s okay,” Allan said. “I’ll tone it down from now on. This was just a bad

incident. It won’t happen again.”

“You say that all the time, Allan. Then there’s something else that gets you all

fired up, and you wind up going off the deep end. I’m tired.”

“I’ll be less passionate,” Allan said. “I swear I will. I won’t get extreme about

anything anymore.” He was begging again. But he didn’t care. He could tell Jacob had

reached that thin line, and he was ready to cross over.

Jacob looked into his eyes. “But you can’t change. We both know you can’t.

We’ve been through this too many times, and we always wind up right back where we

started.”

“Yes I can,” Allan said. “I can change.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Jacob said. His voice was low and solid. “But I just

can’t take all this politics anymore. It’s killing me, Allan.”

Then Jacob sank into his seat and rested his head back. He closed his eyes and

didn’t say another word for the rest of the night.

* * * *

The next morning Jacob packed his bags and left the house in Holmby Hills. Not

just a few bags. He emptied his closet and his drawers. Allan tried to stop him. But when

he saw the pain all over Jacob’s face, his stomach turned and his jaw tightened. Allan

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knew there was nothing he could say or do that would change Jacob’s mind. They had

reached that dreaded, heartbreaking point in a doomed relationship where words didn’t

matter anymore.

174

Chapter Seventeen

After Jacob left, Allan went back to bed. He didn’t cry a single tear. He pulled the

drapes, turned off all the phones, and fell in and out of sleep for the rest of the day. He

had no appetite; even his favorite tea tasted bitter. By the time night fell, he dragged

himself out of bed, pulled on the first things he grabbed from his closet, and went out for

a drive. The house was too silent and the rooms too empty. The wide open floor plan

suddenly felt close and confined. Jacob had not only taken his clothes, but also all the

energy that had once filled their wonderful lives.

He drove in circles for a while, then headed out to Malibu. By the time he reached

Mikey’s beach house, his arms were limp and his legs were wobbly. He got out of the car

and walked to the front door. He pushed the bell and stood in the darkness with his hands

in his pockets, praying Mikey was alone that night. Mikey was usually with a woman and

Allan didn’t want to interrupt anything intimate.

Mikey answered the door in wrinkled boxer shorts and a white T-shirt. He was

holding a large sandwich in one hand and he was still chewing. His hair was sticking up,

he hadn’t shaved, and he probably hadn’t showered that day. He took one look at Allan’s

face and stopped chewing. He opened the door wider and gestured with his head.

Allan fell into Mikey’s body, sobbing for the first time that day. He wrapped his

arms around Mikey’s strong torso and rested his face against Mikey’s chest. His head

jerked and his body trembled. He gasped for breath while tears stained Mikey’s shirt. He

was afraid that if he let go, he’d fall to the floor and he’d never want to get up again.

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Mikey put the sandwich down on a table and wrapped his arms around Allan’s

shoulders. He caressed the back of Allan’s head and whispered, “It’s okay. You’re going

to be fine. I’ll make it better.”

“But it’s not okay,” Allan said, still sobbing. “He’s gone. He packed his things

and left this morning, and this time he’s not coming back. I fucked up everything, Mikey.

It’s all my fault. I drove him out of the house and out of my life.”

“Stop talking,” Mikey said. “I’ll take care of everything. You’re going to be fine.”

He held him tighter and whispered, “I told you I’d always be here to make sure nothing

bad ever happened to you.”

Mikey wasn’t lying. In the weeks that followed, he managed to pull Allan out of

the darkest corner Allan had ever known. He brought Allan into his home and set him up

in a guest room. He forced Allan to eat when Allan said he wasn’t hungry, and he

physically put him into the shower early each morning and convinced him that working

would make him feel better. But more than that, he made Allan laugh when Allan didn’t

think he’d ever be able to laugh again.

Then one night while Allan was sitting at the dinner table, staring at his food and

poking it with a fork, Mikey asked, “Aren’t you hungry? I know you didn’t eat all day.”

Allan shrugged and said, “Not really. I thought I was, but I guess I’m not.” It was

a month after Jacob had left. Allan had gone back to work by then, and he was trying as

hard as he could to feel good again, but there were times when he felt too exhausted to

lift his arms. It was as if a wave of darkness covered his body and disconnected him from

the world.

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“I have something in the kitchen that will make you hungry,” Mikey said. He rose

from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

Allan didn’t respond. He sat there staring at his plate as if he hadn’t heard a word

Mikey said. He’d just heard Jacob had rented a condo in West Hollywood, which made

their break-up permanent. Up until then, a small part of him had been hoping Jacob

would come back.

A minute later, Mikey returned. He walked up to Allan’s side and poked him in

the arm with his knee. He smiled and said, “I know how much you love this, and this one

is really fresh and really juicy.” He bucked his hips and said, “Take a look. If you don’t

want it, I’ll take it away.”

Allan turned to the left. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. Mikey had a

dinner plate between his legs. He was leaning back, with his pelvis pushed forward. He’d

wrapped a hot dog bun around his dick, covered his dick with mustard and relish, and

rested it on the plate. Allan stared in shock and pressed his palm to his throat and took a

quick breath.

“Here you go,” Mikey said. “Nice fresh dick with Dijon mustard.”

Allan looked up at him and rolled his eyes. Mikey was smiling so widely, the

dimples in his cheeks looked like holes. Then Allan looked down again at the plate. The

head of Mikey’s semi-erect dick was sticking out of the hot dog bun as if it was staring at

him. Allan shook his head and smiled. This had to be the most outrageous thing Mikey

had ever done to him. If it hadn’t been X-rated, it would have been a perfect scene for

The Naughty Boiz movie.

177

When Mikey saw Allan smile for the first time that evening, he pushed the plate

into Allan’s face and said, “See, I knew you’d like this. There’s nothing like hot, fresh

dick.” Then he licked his lips and said, “Hmmmm, it’s finger-lickin’ good.”

Allan pushed him back and started laughing. He pointed at the plate, pressed his

hand on his stomach, and doubled over. He laughed so hard it was difficult to speak, and

tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. “You’re such an asshole,” he said. “I can’t believe

you put your dick on a roll.”

“Why am I an asshole?” Mikey asked, smiling. “You haven’t eaten all day. I

figured I’d give you something you really love.” Then he licked his lips again. “Just take

one taste. I know how much you love dick.”

When Allan looked down at the plate again, he saw Mikey’s dick was now fully

erect. The head was sticking out of the hot dog bun and there was even some pre-come

showing. It looked adorable, resting there beneath a bed of mustard and relish. But he’d

never had sex alone with Mikey; just that one time he’d done the three-way with Jacob

and Mikey. He wasn’t sure if Mikey was joking or if he really did expect him to give him

a blow job. He wasn’t even sure if he was in the mood.

Then Mikey moved in closer. He smiled and said, “I know I’m not Jacob. And I

know you’ll never feel the same way about me. But you do need to eat something. Life

goes on, man.”

Suddenly, a wave of relief passed through Allan’s body. It felt like the dense

smoke in his head had dissipated and the sun had just risen. For the first time since Jacob

had left him, he knew he was going to be all right. He pressed his palms gently on

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Mikey’s thighs, then lowered his head to the plate and took a small bite from the hot dog

bun. He pressed his lips against the head of Mikey’s dick and starting chewing slowly.

When Allan started eating, Mikey threw his head back and closed his eyes. Allan

took small bites of bread, licking chunks of relish and mustard from Mikey’s shaft. He

chewed slowly and swallowed with small gulps, until the only thing left on the dinner

plate was Mikey’s dick. There was still some mustard on top of the shaft, covering a thick

vein. Allan stuck out his tongue and licked it off. And when it was spotlessly clean, he

slipped it into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat, and started sucking him off.

His dick still tasted like mustard and relish, with an added salty flavor from the pre-come.

Mikey was so excited he dropped the plate. It crashed to the floor and cracked

into large pieces. He placed his hands on Allan’s head and bucked his hips slowly.

Without removing Mikey’s dick from his mouth, Allan carefully went down to the floor,

on his knees, between the broken chunks of porcelain. He unfastened his own pants,

pulled out his dick, and grabbed it with his right hand.

It didn’t take long to get Mikey off. In less than ten minutes, he exploded inside

Allan’s mouth with such force his entire body vibrated. While Allan swallowed him,

sucking out every last drop, he blew his own load between Mikey’s legs.

A minute later, Mikey opened his eyes and looked down. His dick was still in

Allan’s mouth. “I knew I’d get you to eat something tonight. If you don’t eat tomorrow,

I’m going to drape strands of spaghetti over my dick.”

Allan rolled his eyes and continued sucking until Mikey started to go limp.

* * * *

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An hour later, they rested on an oversized lounge chair on Mikey’s upper deck off

the master bedroom. It was a warm, clear night. The moon was full, the air was still, and

the only sounds seemed to come from the whish of the ocean. Allan was sitting between

Mikey’s legs, resting against his strong, warm body. Mikey’s arms were wrapped around

Allan’s shoulders and Allan was playing with the dark hair on Mikey’s leg.

They sat in silence for a long time, staring into the ocean. Then Mikey took a deep

breath and asked, “You okay?”

Allan nodded. He ran his fingers up and down Mikey’s strong leg. “I’m fine,” he

said. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you this past month.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mikey said. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Are you sure you’ve never considered becoming gay?” Allan asked. “We’d be

great together as a gay couple.”

Mikey laughed. “Are you sure you’ve never considered having one of those sex

change operations and becoming a woman? If you were a woman, we’d be great together

as a couple.”

“I’m serious,” Allan said. “I mean, here we are, but you’re straight and I’m gay.

You have to admit it is a little weird. Seriously, how many straight guys, or gay guys for

that matter, are like us? We’re not even really fuck buddies. We’ve been friends for years

and tonight is the first time I actually blew you. What the hell are we?”

Mikey adjusted his arms, then he tossed one leg over Allan’s body and sighed. He

rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “I guess we’re good friends who really love

each other, totally and completely, with no conditions and no labels.”

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“But we aren’t in love with each other,” Allan said, finishing Mikey’s thought. He

was still rubbing Mikey’s leg. The hair felt wiry but soft at the same time. It was resting

on his thighs, but the weight made him feel safe and secure.

“You’re still in love with Jacob, aren’t you?” Mikey asked.

Allan nodded yes.

“I’m curious. Did you ever feel that way about me?” Mikey asked.

“It’s different with you,” Allan said. “I’ve never been in love with you the same

way I am with Jacob. But I love you in a different way. It’s too complicated to explain.”

His hand stopped moving. He pressed it against Mikey’s leg. “Did you ever feel that way

about me?”

“Not really,” Mikey said. “I’m straight—well, mostly straight, and you’re a guy.”

Allan shrugged. “See what I mean? It is too complicated to explain.”

Mikey laughed. “Did you ever think that I might just be a horny straight guy who

will stick his dick into any opening just to get off, and that you’re just a hungry little

cocksucking fag who can’t say no to a stiff dick?”

Allan’s head jerked, and he turned around and looked Mikey in the eye. “That’s

what I mean,” he said. “If anyone else said that to me, I’d be pissed off and offended. But

it’s funny when you say it. I know you’d never do this with another guy, and you know

I’m far from being a slut, yet we can joke about it without getting upset.”

“You know what I think?” Mikey said.

“What?”

“I think friendships between straight guys and gay guys are underestimated,” he

said. “When you think about it, it’s the perfect balance.”

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“I agree.”

Allan turned on his side. He snuggled into Mikey’s warm body and placed his

palm on Mikey’s chest. Then he sighed and said, “When we wrap up the movie in a

couple of months, I’m moving back to New York.” He’d thought about this already, and

he felt like it was the right time to mention it to Mikey. The house in Holmby Hills left

him cold and empty, with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. All the things he’d

once loved about the house now depressed him. He wasn’t going to sell it right away.

He’d sent Jacob a note that he’d take over the mortgage payments and the house would

still be in both their names. He said he’d rather deal with it later. Allan wanted to go back

to New York and work on his political column for The Harrington Post full time. He’d

be closer to D.C. and if there were political events, he wouldn’t have to commute from

L.A.

Mikey put his arms around Allan. He held him tightly and said, “I had a feeling

you would go back to New York. I hate to see you leave. I’ll miss you. But I think it’s

probably the best thing you could do. You just have to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“That you’ll call me at least three times a week to let me know how you are,” he

said. “I don’t like the fact that no one will be around to take care of you.”

“I’ll call you every day,” Allan said. “Mostly to make sure you’re okay.”

Mikey wrapped his other leg around Allan’s body, then yawned and reached

down for a large red beach blanket next to the chair. He opened it up and covered their

bodies. “We should just sleep outside like this tonight,” he said. “I don’t feel like

moving.”

182

“I don’t feel like getting up either. But I don’t want you to think that I’m gay for

you or anything like that.” Allan snuggled under the cover. Mikey’s legs were wrapped

around his body and Mikey’s right hand was pressed against his ass. He lowered his arm

and ran it under Mikey’s T-shirt, gently caressing Mikey’s chest muscles.

Mikey closed his eyes and smiled. “That feels good,” he said. “And, by the way,

you really know how to suck dick.”

Allan laughed. “You’re an asshole. Go to sleep.”

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Chapter Eighteen

When the audience started to cheer and applaud, Allan adjusted his tie with his

right hand and waved with the other. He wasn’t used to wearing a business suit or a tie

and he felt confined and limited. But he continued to smile and nod, grateful that so many

people had come out to hear him speak that day.

Allan had decided to run for a seat in the state Senate, and he just given a long

speech in Central Park. He’d always maintained his New York residency, and kept

California as his second residence. When he’d first moved back to New York, he’d

continued writing for The Harrington Post, but it didn’t take him long to realize he’d

always wanted to make more of a contribution. A career in politics and public service

seemed like the best way to do it. He wrote good stories and columns, but as a journalist

he found it difficult to be objective. His work was usually slanted toward the issues in

which he believed, and he refused to back down if he thought it compromised his

political or social integrity. Though he had passion about issues, he had to come to terms

with the reality that he’d never be a great journalist like Walter Cronkite.

The Naughty Boiz feature film had been a huge box-office success. It grossed

more money than Mikey had ever imagined it would. It didn’t get the best reviews from

movie critics, but the public seemed to love it. Allan was still receiving fan letters and e-

mails from thousands of people who had seen the movie at least a dozen times. There

hadn’t been such a huge cult following for any film since The Rocky Horror Picture

Show in the late 1970s. Though this movie wasn’t a strong political platform and Allan

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knew he’d have to work hard to be taken seriously as a politician, he had the celebrity,

the money, and the passion to run for an elected office. And there was nothing in his past

that could hurt him. Other than making a slapstick movie in a leopard thong and the fact

that he was openly gay, his record was absolutely clean.

Allan’s campaign manager patted him on the back and said, “Great speech. If that

doesn’t get you elected, I don’t know what will.”

“Thanks,” Allan said, turning away from the crowd. “But we’re going to have to

work even harder. I’m not taking anything for granted in this campaign.” The election

was only two days away and Allan was dead even in the polls. His opponent was running

for re-election and Allan knew it was going to be a tight race. The hardest part of the

entire campaign was getting his message across to the voters. It was a message of change,

but he wasn’t doing it in a slick, insincere way like so many politicians before him. He

was doing it as honestly and openly as possible, hoping to prove to voters that he was

different from other politicians.

“I’ll see you early in the morning,” his campaign manager said. “We leave for

Albany at five.” Allan was holding a rally in the state capital the next day, where he’d

speak for a while, then sit down with voters and listen to their needs and concerns. He

wouldn’t be wearing a suit and a tie either. He would be wearing a sport jacket, jeans, and

a T-shirt.

“See you then,” Allan said, smiling. His campaign manager had just graduated

from college, but he was absolutely brilliant at not doing the same things most sleazy

political campaign managers did. His goal, like Allan’s, was to be honest and real instead

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of lying to voters just to get quick votes. So far, even though many pundits were laughing

at Allan’s new approach, the voters seemed to be interested in listening to him.

While the workers started to take down the speaking platform, the crowd

dissipated into the park. Allan crossed to the end of the stage. It was almost six o’clock in

the evening and he was tired. He wanted to go back to his apartment in Turtle Bay, eat a

light dinner, and fall into bed so he’d be fresh in the morning.

As he stepped down from the platform, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his

pocket and said, “Hello?”

“How did the speech go?” It was Mikey, calling from Italy, where he was

promoting the movie. He called Allan at least once a day to see how the campaign was

going. After that one night in Malibu with the hot dog bun, they never had sex again. But

they were closer than ever as friends, and the dynamics of their relationship hadn’t

changed at all.

“It was good,” Allan said. “I got a large crowd. I’m hoping it’s just as good

tomorrow in Albany.” He’d learned never to assume anything. His opponent had been

trying to discredit him throughout the campaign by claiming that Allan couldn’t be taken

seriously because of his work on The Naughty Boiz. They’d even referred to him as

“Thong-boy.”

“I just called to check in,” Mikey said. “Are you getting any dick?”

“Give me a break,” Allan said. “I don’t even have the time or energy for my own

dick, let alone someone else’s dick.” He hadn’t been with anyone since Mikey.

Mikey laughed. “I’ll call tomorrow around this time again. Have a good

night…love you, man.”

186

“Love you, too,” Allan said. Even though Mikey was thousands of miles away,

Allan needed his support now more than ever. “And I miss you.”

“I’ll be back next week,” Mikey said. “I’ll take you out to dinner. By then my

little gay buddy might be a state senator.”

When he hung up the phone, he stepped to the right and headed toward a black

town car that was waiting near a park bridge. They’d obtained special permission to drive

into the park so Allan wouldn’t have to walk. A couple of older women stopped him and

told him how much they’d enjoyed his speech. He smiled and thanked them. There was a

group of college-aged students a few feet away. They were wearing buttons with his

name and carrying large campaign signs with a large photo of his face. He thanked them

all for supporting him and shook their hands. By the time he finally reached the town car,

he looked up and smiled at the driver who was standing near the rear fender.

Then he stopped moving. His legs stiffened and his chest started to pound. When

he looked past the driver, over the roof of the Town Car, he couldn’t believe what he was

seeing. On the other side of the narrow park road, Jacob Steinman was watching him.

He was standing under an oak tree. His hands were in his pockets and he was

smiling.

Allan hadn’t seen Jacob in about a year, not since the day Jacob had moved out.

The few things Allan had heard about Jacob came from Mikey. Though Mikey didn’t see

Jacob often, they’d remained good friends after Jacob had left Allan. But Mikey didn’t

mention Jacob unless Allan asked; he knew it bothered Allan too much to hear his name.

Allan just stood there for a moment, staring over the Town Car. One year later,

his life was almost totally different, and Jacob still had the power to make his entire body

187

weaken. When he saw Jacob’s handsome face, he still felt a warm rush and a pull in his

groin. Jacob was wearing a black leather jacket, a black turtleneck sweater, and loose

faded jeans. His short dark hair was still perfectly styled, the dimples in his cheeks were

still as deep as ever, and his eyes still tore into Allan’s soul. Nothing about Jacob had

changed. Nothing about the power he held over Allan had changed either.

“Hey,” Jacob shouted, lifting his chin. “Great speech.”

Allan smiled and nodded, then jogged past the car and crossed the road. He gave

Jacob a quick hug. “Thanks.”

Jacob looked him over. “You look good,” he said. “I like the suit and tie. It covers

the pierced nipples.”

Allan shrugged his shoulders. “I have to look more conservative now. No more

leopard thongs in public.”

“That’s too bad,” Jacob said. “You’d probably get even more votes in a leopard

thong.”

“Ah well,” Allan said. “I’m afraid those days are over.” He wasn’t just talking

about the leopard thong. He was talking about his life with Jacob.

Jacob looked into his eyes. “They were good days, though, the way we were back

then.”

Allan smiled. “They were the best days of my life.” Though he was smiling, tears

were beginning to well up in his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets and clenched

his fists hard, trying to hold back the tears. “What are you doing in New York?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Jacob asked. “My show was cancelled and the XN Network

dropped me.”

188

“I didn’t know,” Allan said. “I’m sorry.” He’d been so focused on his campaign

there hadn’t been much time for anything else.

Jacob smiled. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad it was cancelled. I hated doing that show.

I thought I’d go brain dead.” He rubbed his jaw and tilted his head to the side. “I’m the

one who should be sorry.”

Allan clenched his fists tighter. Suddenly, the lump in his stomach turned into a

sharp sting. Their lives had revolved around Jacob’s show and his career with the XN

Network. Allan wanted to be wise and say something clever. But nothing came to him.

So he just smiled and said, “I really have to be going. But it was nice seeing you.” The

pain was too much, and he didn’t want to prolong it any longer than necessary. He

already knew he wouldn’t sleep that night.

Allan reached out to shake Jacob’s hand. Jacob held Allan’s hand and looked into

his eyes, then pulled Allan into his body and threw his arms around him. “I really am so

sorry. I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Allan said. “I’m sorry I drove you away.”

“When I think about the last time we were together and the look on your face, I

still get sick to my stomach. I hope you’re not still mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Jacob,” Allan said, resting his cheek on Jacob’s shoulder. “I

was never mad at you.” He was telling the truth. If anything, he was mad at himself for

not being what Jacob wanted him to be. “I should be going,” he said, stepping back so he

could look Jacob in the eye. “It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you have plans.” They’d

both apologized to each other, but now it was time to move forward. Only it wasn’t easy

to leave. It felt as if there were invisible weights in his shoes that prevented him from

189

moving his legs. Or that Jacob had a strong magnet in his pocket, pulling Allan in Jacob’s

direction.

“Don’t you want to hear about my new job?” Jacob asked.

“Actually, I was afraid to ask,” Allan said.

Jacob laughed. “I just landed a new job with PBS. I’ll be hosting an LGBT

talk/entertainment show every Friday night. The money isn’t nearly as good as it was

with the XN Network. But now I’ll have time to write again.”

“I hadn’t heard,” Allan said. He was trying to be cool. He didn’t want to act too

surprised.

“I just finalized the deal today,” Jacob said. “You’re the first person I’m telling.”

Then Jacob hesitated for a moment. He looked into Allan’s eyes and bit his

bottom lip. Before Allan had a chance to say one word, Jacob grabbed him again and

wrapped his arms around him.

“I love you so much I can’t think about anything but you,” Jacob said. “I can’t

live without you. I want to marry you, whether it’s legal or not, and I want to spend the

rest of my life with you.” Then he pushed Allan away from his body. He reached into his

pocket and pulled out a large diamond ring. He slipped the ring onto Allan’s ring finger

before Allan had a chance to say anything.

Allan looked down at his finger and stared at the diamond. It was square cut, with

sparkling facets, set in thick, smooth platinum. He took a deep breath, all the way to the

bottom of his lungs, then exhaled with a loud sigh. He put his arms around Jacob’s

shoulders and lifted his head. In the park, right out in the open, he pressed his lips to

Jacob’s lips. He slipped his tongue into Jacob’s familiar mouth. And when he closed his

190

eyes and kissed Jacob, it felt as if all the pain he’d experienced in his entire life was

melting away.

When they stopped kissing, Allan asked, “Does this mean we don’t have to hide

anymore? I don’t ever again want to hide the fact that I’m gay. And if I win the election, I

want you by my side, as my husband.” He couldn’t hide anymore even if he wanted to,

because he was now running on a public platform and everything he did was being

scrutinized.

“No more hiding,” Jacob said. “Will you marry me? Just say you’ll marry me and

I’ll never let you down again.”

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Allan said. This was something he didn’t have to

think about twice. These were the words he’d always wanted to hear from Jacob. He felt

giddy and lighthearted. He wanted to wave his hand and flash the ring in everyone’s face.

When they stopped kissing, they turned and headed toward the Town Car. The

driver was still standing beside the back door, pretending he hadn’t overheard a word

they’d said. He was a middle-aged guy, with graying temples and a slight paunch. It was

hard to tell whether he was gay or straight. He was grinning, and it was harder to tell

whether or not he was laughing with them or at them. But neither Jacob nor Allan cared

what he thought. And when they reached the back door and the driver held it open for,

Jacob reached for Allan’s hand and said, “I’d like to walk back to Turtle Bay with you. I

want to walk through the park, down the avenue in front of everyone, and all the way

back home. And I want to hold your hand the entire time.”

THE END

Wyszukiwarka

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