by A M Snead
Bailey shook his head and flashed a smile that seemed a bit forced. “Not this time.” He gave Garrett a friendly smack on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you later.” Bailey walked back inside the house.
Sighing, Garrett watched him leave. Not this time?
Like hell.
He turned his eyes back to Jack and Lucas who were in a private conversation while Rich spoke to Gideon. Garrett’s attention focused on Lucas’ hand, which cupped Jack’s neck, his thumb caressing the young man’s face in a tender, even intimate, gesture. Garrett had unfortunately come along at about the time Rich had called cut the first time and witnessed Lucas’ reluctance to retract his cock from Jack.
Just because Lucas didn’t confess to Bailey that he had outside interests—didn’t necessarily make it not so.
What the fuck do you care?
Jack glanced his way suddenly and caught his stare, spiking Garrett’s pulse. He started to turn away, step away from view, but forced himself to remain unmoving; to draw back and hide would give a false implication as to why he was watching them in the first place.
Why are you watching them?
Following Jack’s quick glance, Lucas looked his way. Jack averted his eyes quickly and moved away, out of Garrett’s sight.
♥
Lucas held Garrett’s stare for a moment before following Jack. Lately, this entire house felt like it was coming unhinged. Jack and Garrett were only part of it. Bailey, the twins, even Scotty…they were all acting off. And not a fucking one of them was willing to give up the reasons why. He expected as much with Scotty—the kid wasn’t exactly an open book. But Bailey? The twins? They had never had any problem confiding in him.
He shoved the dilemma from his thoughts and focused on Jack for the time being. Lucas remained clueless as to the details of Jack and Garrett’s falling out, but at least he understood what was causing Jack’s behavior.
“You delivered that line perfectly, you know?” Lucas draped his arm across Jack’s shoulders.
“Which one?” Jack cast a wayward glance back the way they’d come.
“The one about why your heart was cursed.”
Jack stopped walking and cleared his throat, his eyes evasive. “Maybe I’m a better actor than I thought.”
“Well, you certainly execute a convincing role,” Lucas confirmed. “But…maybe you weren’t acting so much on that part.”
“What?” Jack looked at him.
Lucas held his eyes and saw the truth as vividly as if the young man were shouting it out loud. “Those weren’t staged tears in your eyes, Jack. I mean, I know that some actors can conjure up emotion naturally, but…” He shook his head.
“What’re you saying?” Jack asked tightly. Even now, a shimmer of tears glossed his eyes.
“Maybe the line came so naturally to you because you feel like your heart really is cursed.” He leaned closer and kissed Jack’s hair. “With your love for Garrett.”
Jack’s brow pinched, and he drew away from Lucas. “I don’t…” he started then faltered as Rich and Gideon approached.
Don’t what, Jack? Don’t love Garrett? Lucas stared at him as Jack held his eyes briefly then looked away. The only one you’re fooling is “Jack”…and I don’t think you’re even fooling him anymore.
54 “The Advice”
During the prep for scene one of the skit, anxiety had begun to eat away at Gideon. After the promo with Jack and Garrett, he wasn’t entirely sure how well Jack would do playing out an extensive role so soon afterwards. Neither he nor Garrett were too happy with Gideon, and it was understandable. But what he’d orchestrated between them had been a necessary evil. It wasn’t his place to “directly” interfere, but if he could use the job as a tool to break through the iron walls they’d constructed between one another, then damned if he would do just that.
On the surface, it appeared that things had only gotten worse after the promo. But he saw it in both Jack’s and Garrett’s eyes—they were losing their grip. It might take a blowout for them to finally confront each other, but at least everything would get settled. Hopefully without bloodshed, Gideon mused silently.
His uncertainties concerning Jack’s performance began to fade by the end of the first scene, and nearly disappeared as they progressed through scene two. It was apparent that portions of this skit were hitting Jack on a personal level, adding authenticity to his emotional responses. Gideon meant no ill will toward Jack, but it was perhaps a good thing he was experiencing some real pain. The boy’s attempted denial only hurt him more. When enough pain built up—it would burst out, one way or another.
Gideon broke away from the small group on the set and excused himself, entering the house.
Denial and aversion of all things heartfelt were too familiar. Gideon had been running and hiding from his burden of pain for much longer than he cared to admit. Outwardly, he had it together; he could run his life, his business, without interference of past hurts—as long as he remained distracted. Maybe that’s why this profession agreed with him—it provided powerful distraction. And having the boys living here in his house, there was never a dull moment. Between the shoots and Daniel’s club in the city, Gideon rarely had time to sit and ponder things that had no business even remaining in his thoughts, his memories. And for that he was thankful.
Daniel. If Gideon allowed it, Daniel could be his greatest and most effective distraction of all. The man had certainly made his desires known. But Daniel was too good of a man to be used that way. He deserved something real, the love of a man who wasn’t trapped in the past. Were Gideon ever freed…he often wondered if he could be that man. It wasn’t that he didn’t have affection, or even desire, for his friend—and had often struggled with the refusal of Daniel’s not-so-veiled invitations to warm his bed. The temptation was fucking powerful. But he cared too much for the man to take advantage of Daniel’s feelings for him. Maybe Daniel wouldn’t even see it that way—as taking advantage—but Gideon would.
Gideon paused in the kitchen doorway when he spotted Garrett at the counter, his back to Gideon, pouring himself a glass of cold tea.
Clearing his throat, Gideon entered. “Could you leave that out?”
Garrett tensed. He set the pitcher on the counter and picked up his glass, turning slowly as Gideon approached and opened the cupboard. “Jack seems to be enjoying himself.” Garrett sipped his drink and looked at Gideon dryly.
“It would seem so.” Gideon took down a glass and filled it with tea, then replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator. He raised his glass to his lips and paused before taking a drink. “But then, not all things are as they seem.” He sipped the cold drink, his eyes on the young man.
Shaking his head, Garrett stepped away from the counter. “Right,” he murmured, a tightness to his voice. “Like he couldn’t wait to get Lucas’ cock in him—and Lucas couldn’t wait to give it to him.”
Gideon pursed his lips, studying Garrett. The pain in the man wafted off him in waves. “They’re just doing their job. Like you and the rest of the guys. In this profession, if you don’t enjoy what you’re doing, you should get out. Lucas and Jack work well together, they like each other—they have a very smooth, natural flow on camera.”
“Great.” Garrett smiled dully. “You got yourself a new superstar.” He set his glass down hard on the kitchen island and headed for the door.
“Is that what’s got you ruffled?” Gideon asked, stopping him. “You think Jack is going to replace you?” Of course, that wasn’t it, Gideon was fully aware of that. But a man like Garrett had to be riled before he would come out with what was truly bothering him.
“Are you shittin’ me?” Garrett stared at him incredulously. “I don’t give a flying fuck if Jack rises to fucking super-stardom riding on Lucas’ cock. I am not competing with that little fucker.” Garrett stormed from the kitchen.
Gideon sighed and followed. “Stop.”
Garrett hesitated despite his obvious desire to ignore Gideon and keep
going. “What?” he snapped without facing him.
“Why don’t we talk about what’s really got you pissed?” He made a small, slow arc around the young man until he stood in front of him. “The promo.”
Garrett’s face twitched, his brow furrowed, narrowing his eyes. “What did you think?” he hissed low. “If I got my cock in Jack again, all would be well? That a good hard fucking was all it would take for me to forgive him?”
Uncertainty squeezed Gideon’s brow. “Forgive him?”
Garrett smiled coldly. “Oh, I forgot. You’ve all sided with him.”
“No one is siding with anyone,” Gideon said.
“Bullshit. Like I don’t know that his version of the story is taken for fucking gospel.”
“What version?” Gideon exclaimed with exasperation. “There is no version to side with, because neither you nor Jack have said a damn word about what happened.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Now I know this is none of my business, but I’m going to give you some advice whether you like it or not. You need to talk to Jack. Talk to him—not yell at him. Be straight forward with him. If you have questions that need to be answered, then ask them—clearly and concisely. Don’t dance around the problem, making assumptions or jumping to conclusions. Just ask him straight out what you fucking want to know.”
Garrett stared at him, a wet sheen to his eyes. “There’s nothing I want to ask him,” he said quietly, the fight draining out of him. His throat worked, and he shrugged. “Not a damn thing.”
“Or maybe…” Gideon spoke low, his own frustration calming. “…you’re afraid of his answers.”
♥
Afraid of his answers.
Garrett hadn’t responded to that unsettling possibility as Gideon returned to the set. Rather than finish watching the shoot, Garrett climbed the stairs to the second floor. The final scene of the skit would be at the pool where Jack and Lucas would full-on fuck each other. He felt no compulsion to witness that and avoided analyzing just “why” he didn’t.
His stare drifted to the twins’ bedroom door and he again saw Jack emerging from their room on the morning after his and Jack’s falling out. Garrett had had very little interaction with Mickey and Marcus since that morning, and the more favor they had shown Jack—the further Garrett had withdrawn. Maybe it wasn’t “all” about Jack when it came to the twins. The two boys were special to everyone in the house, but in some ways, it had felt like Garrett had an extra-special relationship with them. It hurt to think that maybe it was over.
The bedroom door opened when Garrett started down the hall, intent on going to his own room. He hesitated as Mickey stepped out then glanced back into the room, an anxious look on his face. Until just recently, it wasn’t a look Garrett was used to seeing on the boy’s face. And it left him unsettled.
“Mickey?” Garrett walked toward him. “Are you okay?”
Some of the anxiety drained from the young man’s face when he spotted Garrett and appeared genuinely glad to see him. Garrett’s heart swelled, and he fought the urge to sweep the boy into his arms.
“Uh…yeah.” Mickey faltered, still somewhat anxious. “Marcus, he…he wanted ice cream. He asked if I would get it for him.” He shrugged and smiled. “He used his puppy dog eyes on me.”
Garrett chuckled and nodded. “Well, those eyes are mighty weapons.” He came closer and ran his thumb softly down Mickey’s cheek. “As are yours.”
Mickey smiled and ducked his head, then raised his eyes slowly, confirming Garrett’s observation and pulling him in, hypnotizing him with his beauty and innocence. “Would you stay with him until I get back?” he asked quietly, a soft plea in his voice. “Please?”
“Of course,” Garrett murmured, a small frown squeezing his brow. “Is everything all right? Is Marcus feeling okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…” Mickey glanced uneasily down the hall where Garrett’s room was located, and beyond his room—Scotty’s. He looked at Garrett. “Just stay with him? I won’t be very long.”
“Take all the time you need,” Garrett said. “I'll be glad to hang out with your boy…as long as you don’t mind me stealing some of his affection.” He smiled and winked.
Mickey laughed softly. “I don’t mind.” He stepped around Garrett and moved toward the stairs, then paused and looked back. “Don’t leave until I get back, okay?”
“I’ll be here,” Garrett assured him, his puzzled frown returning as Mickey nodded then hurried down the staircase. What was that all about? He knocked once on the bedroom door and opened it a fraction, leaning his head inside. “May I come in?”
Marcus glanced up from the bed where he sat cross-legged, playing a game on his iPad. “Garrett?” He dropped the device and scrambled off the bed as Garrett entered the room. He threw his arms around Garrett, hugging him fiercely.
Garrett wrapped him in his arms and kissed his hair, a knot forming in his throat; his boys still loved him. “I must say I’ve missed this.” Garrett smiled, swallowing thickly.
When Marcus drew back, his eyes were damp. “I…I thought you didn’t like us anymore.”
Garrett cocked his head, eyes narrowing a bit. “You’ve been eating the mushrooms in the forest, haven’t you?” He clucked his tongue. “I told you to stay away from them, ’cause they make you all wonky in the head.”
A grin spread across Marcus’ face. “No, I haven’t.”
“Then you’ve been smoking that wacky tobaccey, is that it?”
Marcus laughed and shook his head. “No.”
“Gotta be something like that,” Garrett surmised, smiling. “If you think I could ever not like you two anymore.”
Marcus pursed his lips as his grin softened to a smile that began to waver, the dampness in his eyes returning. “I thought maybe you were mad at us because…”
“Because of Jack?”
Nodding, Marcus whispered, “Yeah.” His lips tightened as worry strained his face and he added hurriedly, “What we did with Jack, it—”
“It’s none of my business,” Garrett interjected. He directed Marcus to the bed where they sat down. Garrett took Marcus’ hand and kissed it softly. “Just because Jack and I aren’t…” he sighed and cleared his throat. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to be mad if you and Mickey are friends with him. You have a right to be friends with whomever you wish.”
Marcus leaned against him and laid his head on his shoulder. “I really thought you didn’t like us anymore,” he whispered thickly.
“Hey.” Garrett touched the boy’s chin and lifted his face. “I love you, Marcus,” he murmured and brushed his lips on Marcus’ mouth. “And Mickey. I don’t think anyone has ever touched my heart quite the way you two have. I will love you from now until forever.” He combed his fingers through the young man’s hair and kissed him again, more deeply. “That’s my solemn promise to you.”
The boy gazed at him with a depth of love and affection that caused a sting in Garrett’s eyes. “Can I ask you something?” Marcus asked softly.
“Anything, babe.” Garrett smiled.
Marcus licked his lips nervously. “Why did you stop being friends with Jack?”
The sudden ache in Garrett’s heart made him flinch. “Maybe he stopped being friends with me first.”
Marcus lowered his eyes and chewed his bottom lip.
“What?” Garrett asked uncertainly.
Looking up, Marcus murmured, “He said you threw it all away.”
“All what?”
“Everything,” Marcus whispered. “Everything you had with him.” Hurt and confusion clouded his eyes. “I thought you really liked Jack…why would you do that?”
Garrett frowned as he turned his stare to the floor. “I—”
The door opened quietly, and Scotty started to step in then stopped abruptly when he saw Garrett. His brow pinched as his eyes darted between Garrett and Marcus. “Where’s Mickey?”
“In the kitchen,” Garrett spoke low. “What? You don’t knock b
efore coming in?”
“Sorry,” Scotty mumbled and averted his gaze.
“It…it’s okay,” Marcus said softly. “Mickey will be back in a minute. Do…” He glanced at Garrett uncertainly then back to Scotty. “Do you want to wait for him? You can.”
Scotty shook his head, the pinch still in his brow as he cast anxious glances at Garrett. “Why…” He swallowed thickly. “Why are you here?”
Since their breakup and Scotty’s attempted suicide, Garrett had found it hard to meet Scotty’s eyes for any length of time. Scotty was still hurting from that disaster and looking in his troubled eyes never ceased to reignite guilt within Garrett. He had done the right thing in breaking off their relationship, and though he insisted to himself, along with the confirmation of those around him, that it wasn’t his fault Scotty took such drastic measures—he still blamed himself to some degree. Too often, though, guilt had a way of manifesting itself into bitterness and anger. As it was beginning to do now.
“Well, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” When Scotty just stared at him, a wounded look in his eyes, Garrett released a slow, tight breath. “Mickey asked me to hang out with Marcus until he got back.”
Scotty shifted, his hand gripping the doorknob. “Why?”
“To keep him company?” Garrett frowned. “What do you care?”
Scotty looked at them for a long moment in silence, as if trying to puzzle something out in his mind.
“Is something wrong?” Garrett asked.
He shook his head. “No,” he mumbled and backed from the doorway, closing the door—gone as quickly as he appeared.
Garrett stared at the door. Why had Mickey asked him to stay with Marcus?
55 The Pool Skit: Scene Three—“The Pool (pt 1)”
“We’re going to alter the scene that we originally shot for the promo,” Rich said. “That scene worked for sparking the viewers’ interest, but now we need more substance and dialog.”