by R. Cayden
Not that he was complaining, when Gray was more than happy to play with his nipples for hours on end and lick his balls until he begged for release.
Night turned into day, and day turned into night, and Jameson felt like he came more than he had ever come in his entire life. Everything turned blurry and beautiful and perfect, and as he pulled Gray close and shuddered with pleasure, he never wanted to let go.
Sun cut through the blinds, and a bird chirped outside. Jameson blinked himself awake. Slowly, Gray came into focus. He was leaning up on an elbow, staring down with a grin.
Jameson giggled. “You’re staring at me in my sleep again.”
“Duh,” Gray answered. “Wouldn’t you?”
Jameson surprised him with a quick kiss. “Stare at me in my sleep anytime you want. It’s nice.” He rubbed his hand through his hair and considered whether his breath was a problem. “What time is it?”
Gray looked at the little clock on the nightstand. “Ten-thirty in the morning. Why? You got somewhere to be today?” he teased.
Jameson sat up in bed. “Not until noon. But it takes me a while to do my makeup, you know?”
Gray scratched his head, confused. “Where are you going at noon?”
Jameson pulled his legs out from under the blanket. “A matinee. Where else?” He was naked, and there were several dried sticky spots on his chest that he needed to attend to. “There’s probably a newspaper in the office with the listings, or we could just go and see what’s on.”
Before Gray could say anything, Jameson hurried to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, peed, and then stepped under the hot blast of water.
He hadn’t meant to jump out of bed so quickly. It was just that something in Gray’s eye had scared Jameson, as if Gray was going to ask about their plan, now that they’d been at the hotel a few days. As much as he was leaning on Gray to figure things out, Jameson wasn’t fooling himself. He knew what he had seen on the television when they first got to the motel, and there was no doubt that eventually, reality would crash down.
But first, just for a while, he wanted to believe they could be fast enough to get away.
Once he finished washing himself, he went straight to his makeup. Gray had gone to get them more donuts and coffee, and by the time he got back, Jameson was in a pair of tight blue boxer-briefs, leaning close to the bathroom mirror and finishing off his look for the day.
“Like flowers,” Gray said, stepping behind him. He wrapped his arms around Jameson from behind, and Jameson wiggled his butt, teasing. Gray laughed, then tapped his finger beside Jameson’s eye, where little blue and pink and green petals danced upward. “It’s cute.”
Jameson held Gray’s eye through their reflection. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” He spun around to give him a quick kiss, then leaned back on the counter. “And I promise, after the movie, I’ll talk about our plan after the hotel.”
Gray pushed some damp hair out of Jameson’s face. “Thanks, beautiful. The newspaper says there are only two screens at the cheap theater down the road. What do you think, Sonic the Hedgehog or Birds of Prey?”
Jameson grimaced. “I’ve already seen Sonic. It’s not good-good, and it’s not bad-good, either.”
“Birds of Prey it is!” Gray answered. “Now finish that makeup so I can feed you donuts.”
GRAY
Even though Gray was itching to get Jameson somewhere safer, he couldn’t lie: a matinee really did hit the damn spot. After folding up the armrest and cuddling close through a movie they’d each seen before, Gray and Jameson wiped their buttery hands, and Jameson popped his scarf back on as the lights came up.
Matinees and superhero movies, Gray thought to himself. It was nice to have a thing. And if it helped Jameson have fun again and replaced some shitty memories with good ones, then it was an afternoon well spent.
“Don’t knock your scarf off,” Gray teased. They were in a big, cavernous lobby, and the smell of candy and popcorn was in the air.
Jameson glanced around. “Theaters are always so empty on weekdays.”
“Just people playing hooky,” Gray answered. He shoved his hands in his leather jacket and cast his eyes around the place, scoping anyone who might cause them trouble. “Oh hey, Jameson,” he said under his voice, nodding to the side. “I think you’ve got an admirer.”
About ten feet away, a woman was talking into her phone, loosely holding the hand of a boy who must have been seven or eight years old. He was looking up at Jameson with wide eyes, like Jameson was the most wonderful thing in the universe. For an anxious second, Gray thought that the kid had figured them out and recognized Justin Sweet.
Then the mother turned, dropping her phone as she did. “Oh I’m so sorry,” she said, then stroked her child’s hair. “Alex, what did I tell you about staring?”
Alex looked shy as he turned away, but then quickly peeked back at Jameson. “It’s okay,” Jameson said warmly.
“He likes your makeup,” the woman whispered. “He’s kind of obsessed with makeup.”
Gray immediately relaxed and placed his hand on the small of Jameson’s back without really thinking about it. “Makeup is cool,” he said, smiling to the kid. “Doesn’t he look great?”
“See?” the woman said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Anyone who likes makeup should get to wear it.” She rubbed the top of his head. “Just not every day until you’re a little bit older, okay?”
“You have such a nice mom, Alex!” Jameson said. His voice had even more bounce to it than usual, which made Gray smile, but Alex still turned shyly away again, clenching his mother’s hand.
“He’s a very special kid, although definitely too shy to talk to strangers today. I’m glad we saw you two, though. He was having a little bit of a meltdown earlier. He wanted to dress up for a costume party, but the birthday boy told him that princess costumes weren’t allowed, and he needed to be a superhero. Since he had the day off school, I caved and brought him here for a treat. Anyway, I’m glad he can see the two of you, happy together.”
Gray and Jameson glanced at each other. Gray had a big smile on his face, and there was a light dancing across Jameson’s eyes. “We are happy together,” Jameson said.
“Very,” Gray agreed, then winked. “He’s my own superhero.”
The woman laughed. “That’s sweet. Now say goodbye, Alex!”
The woman’s phone rang, and while she went to silence it, Alex stared back at Jameson. And Jameson, for one brief second, pulled his scarf down and smiled fully at the kid. Gray sucked in a sharp, surprised breath and watched as Alex’s eyes got wider and wider. A second later, Jameson popped the scarf back up, and the woman returned her attention.
“Have a great day!” she said, pulling the stunned kid away. “And I hope you get over your flu soon!”
Gray turned, then burst out laughing. “I think Alex recognized you,” he said.
“Good,” Jameson said with a satisfied nod. “Then he knows he can be a hero, too.”
They walked toward the door and then out into the parking lot. The sun was high in the sky, and the damp breeze was actually warm, spring having settled in. Gray casually took Jameson’s hand, and Jameson leaned his head on Gray’s shoulder while they walked.
“Everything okay?” Gray asked.
“Yeah. I’m happy. I’m honestly so, so happy, Gray. And getting to show that kid who I am…” He trailed off, then squeezed Gray’s hand tighter. “I won’t have done that until you came into my life.”
Gray nodded. “I understand.” He swung his arm over Jameson’s shoulder. “You’ll have more chances to share your life, Jameson. You’ll find a way to do it that’s right for you. I know you will.”
They stopped by the Subaru, and Jameson let go of Gray’s hand. “It must be nice, when all the pieces of your life fit together.”
Gray let out of a puff of air. “You’ve got it hard, but I don’t know that anyone has a life where all the pieces fit,” he said. “Hell, you k
now I don’t.”
“I guess that’s true. Anyway, we’re on our adventure. I can sit around and feel sad anytime I want.” He adjusted the scarf, and Gray wished that he could pull it down and kiss him. He hated the idea of Jameson sitting around sad, although he knew there had been a lot of that.
“What’s next?” Jameson asked. “I want to spend at least one more night in the motel with you, but after that, I guess I promised you a plan.”
Gray considered it. He knew he could come up with more hijinks. There were always adventures and risks to take, if you tracked them down. And they had a safe vehicle, and a disguise that worked. But Gray wanted to believe he could offer more than that, too, just like Jameson wanted to offer more of himself to the world.
“I’ve got an idea.”
“Yeah?” Jameson asked.
“I might know the perfect place for us to go but you have to put a little more trust in me.”
Jameson laughed. “Of course I trust you. I’m standing outside a movie theater in the middle of the day with a full face of makeup and a pair of tights I got from the strip club. If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is.”
Gray crossed his arms over his chest. “In that case, have you ever been to Albany?”
Jameson
“Gray, dude, where the hell have you been?”
Jameson assumed it was Raiden standing in front of them. He’d heard enough stories at that point that he knew what to expect. The guy stood tall, kind of bulky, and he had on a brown leather jacket that was well worn. When he and Gray approached each other, they hugged and slapped backs, and both made the same grunting noise.
“It’s a long story,” Gray answered. “Can we get inside?” He gestured to Jameson, and Jameson raised a hand in a small wave.
“Hi,” he said brightly, adjusting his scarf.
Raiden stared for a second, his eyes wide. “Wait, does that mean you’re—”
“Inside,” Gray said and hustled them both through the door.
Warmth and soft light bathed them as they stepped into the house. Jameson had been reluctant to tear himself away from the motel bed, but now that he was there, he was excited that the house wasn’t that different from what he’d imagined. There were some couches that looked comfortably used, a calendar with forest views on an otherwise bare wall, and what looked to be half-abandoned projects in just about every corner. They headed straight through the kitchen and to the back, where a big den was spread out, with windows looking out on the woods behind the house.
Raiden opened a small fridge, then tossed Gray a beer. “You want one?” he asked Jameson.
Suddenly, Jameson realized he could take his scarf off. Delighted, he tugged it over his head and sucked in a breath of fresh air, the smell of Gray’s house hitting him with pleasure. “Um, yeah, I guess I’ll have a beer. Thanks!”
Raiden tossed a can underhand, and Jameson caught it naturally, spinning it once when he did.
“Holy shit,” Raiden said, gawking just a little bit. “Sorry. I mean, I know it’s annoying. It’s just that you’re all over the TV.”
“It’s okay,” Jameson said. He understood the effect celebrity had on a lot of people and knew it was possible to get to the other side. And since Raiden was family to Gray, he was more than happy to give him a second to process. He twirled his hand in the air with a giggle. “And yup! It’s me.”
Gray stepped forward, then threw his arm over Jameson’s shoulder. “Doesn’t he look hot?”
Jameson fluttered his eyes, then leaned against Gray with a laugh. “I’ve had lots of reasons to look pretty lately.”
Across the room, Raiden stared at them with his jaw hanging open, then shook his head. “Okay, cool,” he said, swigging his beer. “That’s cool. Gray’s dating a movie star now, chill.” He swigged his beer one more time. “So how long are you around for?”
Gray took a deep breath, plopped down on the couch, and then launched into the story. Jameson took the opportunity to walk around the den, admiring the pool table and the back porch with the hot tub he had heard so much about. He could see Gray’s attitude and his sense of humor everywhere, and it made him warm and giggly.
And safe. More than in the motels, even, he felt safe there.
Once Raiden received the download, he immediately went to work frying up grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone. Jameson was at ease with him right away. The guy had the same kind of weirdly intense sincerity that Gray had. He could sense that they both needed someone to rein them in sometimes, their energy bouncing all over the place, but he also could feel that their hearts were in the right place.
And when Gray held Raiden’s shoulder, stared him in the eye, and explained how important Jameson’s privacy was, Jameson could feel the trust between the two men, like steel.
It wasn’t until they were walking back out to the den that Raiden let his injury show. He was stepping down the two stairs to the lower level of the house when he jerked his hip to the side, then slammed a hand against the wall.
“Raiden,” Gray said, stepping forward and placing his arm on his friend’s elbow. “You okay?”
“Fuck,” Raiden cursed. He grabbed the top of his leg, then steadied himself and shook Gray off. “It’s nothing.”
“No it isn’t,” Gray said flatly. “What’s up?”
Raiden frowned. “A car rear-ended me the other day.”
“What? What car? Did you see a fucking doctor?”
Jameson placed his hand on Gray’s arm to help calm him. He could see the protective concern that was flashing through his eyes, like another kind of fire licking at him.
Raiden leaned back against the wall. “Don’t overreact.”
“Fuck.”
“You remember that guy who was moving the fentanyl?”
Gray tensed up. “I told you to turn that one over to the officials!”
“We did!” Raiden said defensively, holding his hands in the air. “You’re right. That stuff needs to be taken care of properly, along with anyone who had a part in distributing it. It’s too dangerous to get out on the street. But Horatio and I were talking about it, and we figure we didn’t have to just call the police.”
Gray sighed. “Can I have another beer?”
“We just did some creative messaging,” Raiden answered as he crossed to the fridge.
“Creative messaging?” Jameson asked.
“Just some carefully placed flyers around the neighborhoods where he spends his time and one billboard we installed in the middle of the night. We thought it was appropriate to warn people that he sells bad drugs, you know? Make sure everyone could see his face, take a good look at him, and say, that’s the man who sells bad drugs.” Raiden flipped open his beer. “It was Horatio’s idea.”
“And he rear-ended you?”
“One of his guys.”
Gray stood there a minute, his arms crossed and his brow tightened. Despite everything else, Jameson couldn’t help but smile. It was just funny to see his guy step into this different kind of leadership role, turning into the responsible one.
His guy. Jameson shoved the thought aside, then rested his hand on Gray’s back. Raiden had possibly gotten himself in trouble, and Jameson wanted to be there to support Gray through it all.
“You’re just lucky it wasn’t worse,” Gray said. “You could have gotten yourself killed, you know that? Anyone moving that much fentanyl is a major player. And if they think you’re the ones that tipped the cops off?”
“They don’t know that we did the flyers or that we turned them in” Raiden said, then rubbed his thigh again with a wince. “They just caught us poking around one of their locations a couple weeks ago. They’re letting off steam, punching down at the little guys. I’m sure it’s all over.”
Gray grunted. “All right. But you’re showing me the damn leg, and if it’s bad, I’m dragging you to the doctor. Got it?” He turned to Jameson, then smiled. “You doing okay, beautiful? Do you need anything?”
&n
bsp; Jameson darted his tongue across the bottom of his lip. There were a million things he wanted in that moment, but since arriving at the house, one thought had been front and center. “Could I just lie down for a minute? I’d like to rest in your room.”
Gray’s eyes popped open a little wider, but he nodded. “Yeah, sure. First door at the top of the stairs. Make yourself at home. I’ll come find you when I’m done?”
“Sure, thanks,” Jameson said, then kissed him on the cheek and ran away before Gray could change his mind.
He climbed the stairs, covered in brown carpet, stepped into the bedroom, then slowly closed the door behind him. The sun was on the other side of the house, and the room was dim with the light off. Jameson felt like he was creeping into an alien world, one he had been cut off from ever since he became famous. But when he traced his eyes over Gray’s collection of records and smelled his scent on a red plaid blanket, and spotted the battered old science-fiction novel by his bed, he felt like he was returning somewhere, too.
Like he had finally arrived where he was supposed to be.
Jameson fell backward to the bed, then curled up with a pillow. He imagined how many nights Gray had slept right there and smiled to himself.
He tightened his hands. If it weren’t for Pickles, he’d probably just try to abandon the mansion forever. Jameson entertained himself by lying there and imagining how to transform Gray’s house into a proper hideout. He could last there for ages, probably, with a secret hut in the woods or a converted lair in the basement.
Or right between Gray’s blankets, soft and warm on his skin.
As Jameson finally began to drift away to sleep, there was a light knock on the door, and Gray poked his head in. “I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed. Fucking finally.”
Jameson laughed and rolled onto his back. “I’m probably getting makeup on your pillowcase.”
Gray hopped onto the bed, then kissed Jameson on the cheek. “It will remind you were there.”