Cruising For Trouble: A M/M Contemporary Romance

by Romeo Alexander

  “I try my best. How about the eggs, sunny side up, and a side of sausage?” I close the menu and hand it to her. When she comes back with my food, I have extra sausage on my plate and it makes me smile. Basic decency can go such a long way sometimes.

  When I’m done eating, I make my way to the performance center, where I find my racks have already been brought up. I begin skimming through, finding something appealing for breakfast guy, and I feel myself slipping into the mode. Alayah knows what I am talking about with this. She does it too, where we both consider what colors, tone, lighting and accessories will make the models look their absolute best.

  The first outfit I bring to the model is casual. It screams relaxation and the lighter tones and hues of the fabric contrast nicely with the olive tone of his skin.

  “This will look like a sack on my body. Why are you dressing me in a potato sack!” he tosses his wavy hair out of his eyes and turns his nose up.

  I consider him for a moment, but I see David sitting in the directors’ chair, throwing glances our way so I take the piece away. He’s being filmed sitting in a beach chair. They brought in chairs from the deck and created a faux deck side setting under the stage lights, complete with fans to capture the wind from the ocean breeze blowing across him. The premise of the segment was that another actor would walk up to the chair beside him, sit down, and it would be love at first sight.

  The actor approaching the breakfast model was well known to temper himself to get along with everyone, which made my job easier, and he was already outfitted stage right, waiting for the model to get it together.

  I go through three outfits, all rejected by the model, and I being to worry that David is going to interfere, so I look at Alayah. She nods. She and I have this understanding that when nothing is working, go drastic and try something so out there it just might work. I grab the white and gold speedo and the bottle of oil and approach the model. Without saying a word, I hand it to him and then the bottle of oil to one of the assistants, who follows to lube him up.

  When he comes out from behind the dressing screen with his body slicked and his junk padded, very obviously, because David whispers something to an assistant, who runs up to him and indicates he should tuck in the padding, the model struts his stuff across the stage and sits down in the chair, picking up the magazine and pretending to read.

  We only have to stop the shoot three times to add more oil and up the fans’ power so his hair flows nicely. I roll my eyes at Alayah, who continues to apply the makeup, even though he’s already had enough. She appeases him by adding touch ups occasionally, and that seems to satisfy him that everyone is paying attention to him.

  Content with the outfit, or lack thereof, I’m freed up to focus on the next shoot, which is a formal dining experience. I focus on the formal wear rack, but it brings me closer to David’s director chair. I’m keenly aware of him watching me as I pick suits and ties, pairing them with shoes and passing them to the actors who’ll play out the romantic scene.

  I’m just to the right of David. His friend Jake is to his left and has to keep tapping his arm to get his attention back on commanding lighting, the camera man, and the fan operators. I try as hard as I can not to interrupt the flow of the filming, and only have to pass him once when the model’s oil needs to be redone.

  Alayah and I are able to style him as a man who doesn’t have a care in the world and is openly comfortable being gay and confident with his body. His counterpart, the actor who was clearly confident with himself in reality, is depicted as a man approaching the model while coming out of his comfort zone. I can’t help but see the comparison between David and myself. I never thought I’d come across as cocky. Confident yes, because I’m comfortable with myself, but a part of me wishes David would see that the best way to become comfortable with himself is to push his comfort zones and admit what he’s most likely been denying in himself for a very long time.

  I have the opportunity to watch David when he stops filming to direct the actor and model and change up the script a little. The actor is attentive, and the model shrugs it off, but it’s interesting watching David in his element. He’s capable of directing in such a way as to capture the natural interactions between two people, even when the scene is being acted out. He creates a fluidity of their movements, behaviors, and words giving the effect that this is simply two people who met in the real world and struck up a conversation.

  I find it interesting he can create something so natural looking, yet he himself is so awkward when it comes to social engagements. Being gay is not an easy thing to admit, and I know virtually nothing about him besides his name and the name of his production company. Perhaps his home life was sheltered or closed off to the open-minded views of acceptance. That might explain his complete disregard for that aspect of himself. I chastise myself for not seeing it before. His innocence had been such a turn on I’d forgotten to consider that pushing too hard and too fast might be more harmful to him accepting himself. I wish I’d the opportunity to apologize, but with Alayah giving me the death look, I know this is not the time or place.

  I focus my attention on the romantic dinner scene couple. The dining hall on the cruise ship is opulent, and the banquet hall last night was nothing short of extravagant. But the dining hall offers private booths to create the ambiance needed for romance, and since romance is of the utmost importance, we opt for the dining hall.

  I can’t help but think about what it would be like to sit and chat with David at one of those tables. I wonder what it would be like to get to know him. What makes him tick? Why does he wear a white hat? What other little quirks does he have that would either make him endearing, or drive me crazy? Sometimes being driven crazy isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it means a person is literally crazy for the other person. I want to know where he comes from and what it took for him to get here. I want to know him, then I want to show him that his gift for capturing the beauty of interaction between people is one he himself can experience, if he doesn’t suppress it.

  By the time I return to my cabin, I’ve worked myself into such a state I’m pacing my room, trying to figure out exactly the right thing to say if I go knock on his door and confront him, demand my do-over. I’m still hurt by his rejection earlier, and I figure the best way to move past that burn is by communicating with him. I’ll settle for nothing less than an acknowledgement of the fact that he’d treated me so poorly. I ponder the right thing to say to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. Maybe I can express my interest in him and my willingness to be patient as he explores this side of himself.

  I’m just reaching for my doorknob when my door bursts open. I stumble backward in surprise, falling on the bed. It takes me a moment as I scramble off the bed, thinking I’m being attacked, before I make out the face of my intruder.

  “Aaron! What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “What’s the matter, brother? Not happy to see me?” Aaron’s face, identical to mine, grins at me as he picks up a bottle of wine that I’d opened earlier and pulls the cork out using his teeth. My twin is the very last person I need to be dealing with on this cruise.

  6

  David Andrews

  “What is the matter with you?” Jake asks for the umpteenth time.

  “Huh?” I turn my attention from watching Corey De Marcos as he gets oiled up for the fifth time before we continue shooting. I never would have picked a speedo for the shoot, but strangely, it’s working. The tentative demeanor of the model’s counterpart is a jarring contrast. They do an excellent job conveying the promise of finding true love aboard the cruise ship.

  The other actor, Tyler Ambrose, is a geeky looking man wearing glasses and Polo shirt. This is his preferred look even when he isn’t filming. The look and demeanor come naturally as he has a reputation for being confident with his sexuality and his looks. Alex makes the styling appear effortless as he pieces together outfits that seamlessly fit the actors. When he sees the way the o
utfits work, this look of joy spreads across his face and it’s absolutely charming.

  “You’ve done nothing but watch Alex,” Jake says.

  “I have not.”

  “You have too. You completely missed it when Corey’s junk fell out of his speedo and he slapped the wrist of the assistant who got a little too frisky trying to help him stuff it back in. It was his actual junk! Corey is threatening a harassment complaint.”

  “Oh, tell him you’ll send an extra bottle of brandy to his room tonight. He’ll come around, I’ve worked with him before.”

  It takes me a moment to realize Jake isn’t laughing. At first, I thought it was because he was mad I suggested he bribe the model. But he isn’t looking at Corey, he’s looking at me with genuine concern.

  “What?”

  “David, I’m your friend over and above any production you’re helping me with. What’s going on with you and Alex?”

  I blush and clasp my hands together on my lap and bite my lip. “Later, okay? We’re wrapping up here and then moving on to the dinner scene,” I stand before he can argue and go over to direct Tyler to lean over and touch Corey’s arm in the last take, then pull his hand away, and then have Corey reach over and take his hand. It’s a simple gesture, but sometimes the comfort of touch can speak to the depth and volume of perception of human behavior.

  The next hour is spent setting up the new set. I greet Liam and Casey, a middle-aged couple who have been in the acting profession for over fifteen years. I convinced Jake he needs to appeal to middle aged gay couples as well as the younger couples, because it would broaden his prospects of guests. Liam and Casey are able to provide the romantic idea that although younger couples are capable of finding love, age and maturity can lend credence to a relationship being successfully developed.

  Their suits are pristine, with Liam in black with a blood-red shirt. His brown hair and eyes give a spark that pairs nicely with his character, the man who’s igniting passion in the relationship. Casey, who’s fair-haired and pale, is wearing a gray suit with a lavender shirt, and his character is the desk jockey type who works too much. It plays nicely with the script of the two of them needing the getaway cruise to keep their passion alive.

  Casey and Liam are so natural in their depiction of this couple, I can see they themselves have had to take some sort of vacation together just to get away from the chaos of life. I imagine they’re pulling their acting skills from the memory of whatever trials they’ve had to overcome in their own relationship, and I envy them despite their hardships. I’ve always wanted that person to come home to after a long day and tell them how I am feeling. The trouble is, I’ve never been clear if that fantasy person I come home to is a man or a woman. Over the last twenty-four hours, the face in the fantasy has become Alex.

  I finish up shooting for the day and prepared the wedding shoot for the following morning. The cruise actually offers a chapel for weddings, which do need to be booked in advance. There’s a gay onboard minister to perform the ceremonies. The tuxedos for the two actors portraying the grooms are carefully hung in garment bags on the formal rack, and I watch as Alex preps the bathrobes and silk undergarments for the bedroom scene that’ll be filmed after. Jake doesn’t want to come across as pornographic, but he definitely wants a scene of heated passion, eroticism, and seduction to be clipped into the promo video. Sex sells and having that segment will only add to the appeal of the cruise. I blush just thinking about it. I knew this was coming, but also know it’ll be the hardest segment for me to get through.

  When we’re finished, I try to make a quick escape to my cabin, but Jake catches up with me in the hall. “You owe me an explanation. Let me buy you a drink at the bar.”

  I cringe and wish I’d made my getaway earlier, but I suppose a drink is a good way to help me deal with how things have gone the last few days. Although alcohol doesn’t solve any problems, one or two drinks won’t hurt. We sit down at the bar in the far-left corner of the dining room. Bottles and glittering glasses hanging around the edge of the room form a chandelier effect as the light makes them sparkle.

  “Two brandies, please,” Jake nods to the bartender who doesn’t bat an eye. Apparently, the owner of the cruise gets whatever he wants, no questions asked.

  I can feel Jake’s eyes on me and I keep my head down so he can’t see under the brim of my hat. When the bartender delivers the drinks, I sip my brandy and feel it slide smoothly down my throat. Another few sips helps loosen my tongue to finally answer the question I can feel burning in Jake’s eyes as he stares at the side of my face.

  “I met Alex the night before the cruise, but I didn’t know he was the stylist you’d hired.”

  “Okay. Where did you meet him?” Jake urges softly.

  “I met him at the bar I met up with you at. The one where you were taking me out on the town for the evening for doing the video for you,” I confess.

  “The gay bar?”

  I nod and have another sip of my drink. It’s almost empty but the bartender doesn’t even need a nod and he is already setting fresh glasses in front of us.

  “What happened?” Jake prompts. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he suddenly looks around, like he is on the defensive.

  “No. No, not at all. It’s nothing like that, Jake,” I put my hand on his arm and he settles back down. “He was really nice. He came up and bought me a drink. Before you say anything, it came right from the bartender, he didn’t have it before it came to me. He helped me get away from a couple of guys who were being kind of obnoxious and we went upstairs to a booth that had a bench and some curtains. It was really private, and we had drinks and…and…” I’m having a hard time getting the words out of my mouth. How am I going to tell him? What’s he going to think? I know Jake is gay, but when he finds out I’m…

  “And did he kiss you? Or did you kiss him?” Jake asks softly. I look up in surprise and he grips my forearm. “It’s okay, David. I’ve known for a while, even if you didn’t. But it isn’t something I was going to pressure you about.”

  I nod, feeling my cheeks burn and then whisper, “He kissed me, and I let him and I, uh, I liked it. I got…well, I was, you know.”

  “Aroused.”

  I nod again and then take the biggest sip of brandy yet. My head swims, but I take the opportunity to jump into this swirling pool of memories and confess the rest in a rush of words.

  I finish my brandy and continue to stare at the bar. Jake is silent for a long time before I feel his hands reach around my shoulders and pull me into a tight hug. It surprises me and what surprises me more is when I look around not a single person bats an eye at the gesture.

  “I’m really proud of you for admitting it, David. That took a lot of courage,” Jake’s voice is emotional, and I look up. He has tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling, and I’m confused.

  “You aren’t…you aren’t mad at me?” I ask.

  “Of course not, David. Why would I be mad at you for just being yourself?”

  I blink stupidly at him. I spend so much time trying to get actors and models to act naturally, like they are their characters, it never occurred to me that acting like myself meant being okay with being gay.

  “What will everyone else think?”

  This earns me the laugh I’d been worried about. Jake tips his head back and his teeth flash in the light. “David, we’re on a gay couples’ cruise. If anyone has an issue with it, they shouldn’t be promoting this cruise to begin with, or they’re in denial themselves. Also, if anyone has an issue with it, too bad. It isn’t any of their business if you choose to be who you are.”

  I feel like my brain has completely shut down. I stare at him blankly. Can he really mean that?

  “What do I do about Alex?”

  “That you will have to figure out on your own. Your two best options are to talk to him, and maybe apologize for shunning him publicly. Or you can continue a professional relationship and wait until after the cruise to approach him, but you n
eed to decide because you’ve been distracted all day.”

  “I have?”

  Jake doesn’t answer me, but I know his response because I can see the ‘Well, duh,’ clearly in his eyes when he frowns at me.

  I finish my brandy and decide chugging it might not have been in my best interest, because I wobble a little as I make my way toward the door. I thank Jake before leaving and he hugs me again. I know there’s at least one person who is okay with me being gay and that makes me feel marginally better.

  Alcohol is a funny thing. In the time it takes me to go from the dining room to my cabin, I have that internal conversation where I think of all the witty things I’d like to say to Alex. I also plan to accuse him of confusing me at the club and not telling me he was the stylist on the cruise. Then I form a rebuke about how we could’ve avoided how awkward this has been if he’d been honest and up front. I hadn’t known who he was, but I’m assuming he knew which production company he was styling for and now I want an explanation.

  Instead of making my way to my own cabin, I veer down the hall and take one more flight of stairs to the second-class cabins.

  I see him standing outside his door down the hall.

  “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were the stylist before kissing me in the club?” I demand. I realize I’m being quite loud, but if Jake is right, no one is going to care that I kissed a man. Alex looks confused and it infuriates me that he looks so good. He’s changed into a leather jacket, a white t-shirt, jeans, and leather boots, and he pulls off the blond bad boy look so well. The patch across the back of the jacket should say Sex Appeal.

  I walk up to him and poke his chest. “How was I supposed to know you were the stylist?” I grab his t-shirt and pull him down, kissing him angrily and passionately on the lips. He tastes like mints and I groan, and then I’m suddenly jarred from the kiss.

  “Hey!” I shout.

  Alex has pushed me away and I fall into the wall behind me and stare at him. Without a word he turns and bursts into his cabin, leaving me standing there wondering what the hell I’ve just done.