by B. G. Thomas
CHAPTER TWO
IT MADE Wyatt extraordinarily happy that everyone was impressed with the layout. “Don’t forget to get a lei,” he announced, pointing to where they hung over the dining room table.
“Oh!” Cedar pumped his fist. “I want one of the ganja ones!”
“Me too,” said Scott.
Would wonders never cease? Scott? Wanted one of the marijuana leis? Was it one of the final signs of the apocalypse (that Wyatt didn’t believe in)? Wyatt almost giggled.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” said Asher, and then he answered Wyatt’s wonderings by popping a roll of the thinly sliced ham into his mouth before it even reached his plate. He might have been getting curious about his Jewish heritage for the first time since he was a kid, but it didn’t look like Asher was converting back to the religion of his grandfather anytime soon. Still, it was sweet to see the way he was watching over Peni. Sweet, lovely Peni with his caramel skin and Superman blue-black hair and the tattoos that Wyatt was dying to see.
Asher turned to his lover. “You know, Peni, you can just sit and rest. I’ll load your plate for you.”
Peni laughed. “I’m fine and you know it,” he declared and then blushed furiously when Asher told him he was far more than fine. He was delicious.
“If I was going to have a problem, wouldn’t it be with sitting?” Peni asked.
“I don’t know,” Asher said. “I think it should be me who would have trouble sitting after last night.”
Peni blushed all the more, and there were a few hoots around the table.
“I meant my pe’a,” Peni said, referring to his new tattoos.
“I know what you meant,” Asher said and gave him a sweet kiss. It really was amazing. A side of Asher that Wyatt had never expected to see. Sweet. Kind. Romantic.
“I just can’t get over the cake,” Peni said, pointing. “I mean, it’s even smoking!”
That was because Wyatt had run for the kitchen freezer, taken one of the small chunks he’d chipped off the block of dry ice, and carefully dropped it down into the juice can concealed within the cake.
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Sloan said as it smoked away.
“It really is something,” said Max. Broad shouldered, a shadow of a beard on his strong jaw, flashing blue eyes, and a hint of chest hair showing at his open collar, he was the one man here tonight Wyatt was attracted to. Wyatt had had more than one fantasy about seeing Max naked, like trying to dodge into the locker room at the local gym where they all worked out. Sloan had forbidden it. And that was even before the two of them hooked up. Now that they were practically married, Wyatt knew he would probably never get a look. And wasn’t that one of the first things Howard had taught him? To look?
“Hey, we’re men!” Howard had declared on many an occasion. “We like to look. You look all you want, baby.”
“That volcano must have taken you all day,” Max continued.
“It really wasn’t all that much trouble,” Wyatt said, blushing. “I started with an angel food cake pan and then when it was done, did some carving and some sculpting and threw in lots of icing and—voilà!”
“Don’t let Wyatt fool you,” Sloan said. “He’s spent like two or three evenings working on it.”
“I had to do something in honor of you coming home,” Wyatt said, turning to Peni.
“How did you make it smoke like that?” Peni asked.
“Why, magic,” Wyatt said. “After all, I am a witch.”
“You really did outdo yourself,” Scott said when he’d circled around the table to Wyatt. He dropped his chin on Wyatt’s shoulder. “Asher is going to have to work his ass off to ever top this.”
“I heard that!” Asher cried, laughing.
Wyatt grinned again. He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed all the fuss. He was only doing what he loved to do, but it had been a while since he’d been able to show off.
They all filled their plates, and Wyatt reminded them that the cocktails were in the kitchen. “I’ve got them leaded and lead-free,” he said.
“Leaded and lead-free?” Peni asked.
“With and without booze,” Wyatt explained.
“You have an alcohol-free version?” Peni asked. “I thought you once told me that gay men are required to drink.”
Wyatt smiled wistfully. “I’m changing my mind. Plus—” He glanced at Asher. “—you know….”
“Well, I’m certainly imbibing,” Cedar said and went right to the cooler in the kitchen. “I love how you decorated it.”
It hadn’t been a lot of trouble. He’d simply taken a straw mat, wrapped it around the cooler, and tied it on. He would have used a glue gun, but then, the cooler wasn’t his.
“Where did you get the tiki goblets?” Scott asked.
“It was an incredible find,” Wyatt crowed. “I got them at Michaels, in the city. I was lucky. They were on clearance. No one is having luaus this time of year. And they had exactly enough of them.” Seven, not eight, he thought with a sigh.
“Now you’re shocking me,” Asher said. “You’ve always told us we should never admit we got something cheap, on sale, or at a garage sale.”
Wyatt gave a little shrug. He was looking at all kinds of things differently these days. Watching his money was a big one. With as much as Howard had made, Wyatt had been able to get away with a lot. Without Howard he was wondering how he was going to make ends meet. He was manager of Treasures of Terra, the New Age store where he worked, but it was a small business, and he wasn’t paid a fortune. With businesses failing so much these days, it was wonderful that the store was doing as well as it was. He was really thankful that Sloan had refused to take any rent money the last two months.
“I hope you don’t think I’m taking advantage,” Wyatt had said while Sloan watched him make the cake, even lent a hand with the icing.
“What are you talking about?” Sloan had asked as he slathered chocolate icing where directed.
“That I spent all this money and haven’t given you a cent for rent.”
“You tried to give us money, Wyatt,” Sloan said. “And I said no. We can think about that in the future. The house is paid for. We wanted you to have a chance to get some money in the bank. A cushion.”
“I’ll make it work,” he said. “And Katherine is letting me do readings on my days off for extra money.” Katherine was his boss and the owner of Treasures of Terra.
“Readings?” Sloan glanced up. There was some icing on his nose, and Wyatt had to laugh.
“Tarot readings,” he answered.
“Did I know you did that?” Sloan looked crossed-eyed down at the end of his nose and then wiped the chocolate away and stuck his finger in his mouth.
“It’s been a long time. I did a reading for you one drunken night about five years ago.”
“Five years,” Sloan said and whistled. “Have we really known each other that long?”
“Ever since my short stint in the call center.” Wyatt winced. “That didn’t last long, did it?”
“Well you did tell a customer to kiss your ass,” Sloan said.
“My rosy red ass.” Wyatt crossed his arms. “Because she called me a fag! And I told her that I was more man than she was ever going to have and more woman than she would ever be.”
“Well, I don’t care where you got the goblets,” Peni said, drawing Wyatt from his musings. “I love them.”
That’s when Sebastian the crab began to croon to them from the stereo, letting them know they should take it from him, there was no place better than under the sea. That was the perfect time for them to find a place to settle in the living room. Wyatt had brought in a few dining room chairs to make sure everyone had a place to sit, and as he joined them, he looked around the room. Gods…. Lovers paired up all around him. And he was alone.
Yet… was he? Could he really look at all these people and think he was alone?
Wyatt looked from face to face to face, listened
to them as they chatted, and the warmth surged into almost overwhelming love. He really was lucky. As hard as things had been these past months—how lonely he’d been lying in that bed by himself night after night and week after week—how much worse would it have been without these friends?
“Asher,” said Max. “Any word on Drunks?”
Which was the movie Asher was doing for HBO. Imagine. HBO. Asher had gone from a small stage in Kansas City to a movie for HBO. Wyatt had always insisted they would all be famous one day, and Asher, at least, was on his way.
“I think it’s scheduled for November,” Asher said.
“November?” cried Wyatt. “Next November?”
“Well, this November did pass last month,” Asher replied.
“But that’s a year away! We have to wait that long?”
“Wyatt, we’ve barely begun shooting.”
But… “But the play wasn’t even two hours long! How long does it take to make a movie?”
Asher chuckled. “We’ve got about two weeks under our belts and another three more weeks to go, and that’s because they’ve added a couple of flashback scenes that take place outside of the hotel where the play took place.”
“They’ve added scenes?” asked Sloan.
Asher nodded. “Yes. That’s pretty normal for a movie. Did you know the play version of Steel Magnolias is set strictly in the beauty shop?”
Wyatt nodded. “I saw it at the Pegasus Theatre. It was pretty cool. Half the women were played by men in drag!”
“Movies are able to add all kinds of stuff. They almost always do since they don’t have the constraints of what can be done onstage. And then there’ll probably be pickups. After that there is a host of stuff that happens. Editing. Music. Promotion. I’m excited we’re only having to wait that long.”
“But a year!” Wyatt whined. He couldn’t help it. Somehow he thought it all went so much faster. Then a new thought. “How did you manage to get home this weekend if you’re still shooting?”
“I told Spencer I wanted the weekend off, and he didn’t even blink.”
“Oh,” Wyatt said. “You’re on a first name basis with him now?”
Spencer—Spencer Morrison, the actor—was the big name who was making Drunks into a movie and possibly only one of the biggest stars in Hollywood these days.
“I wanted to be here for Peni.” Asher hugged his lover close. “I didn’t tell Spencer that—he thinks it’s something else.”
Something else? Did they not know Asher was gay? Wyatt thought Asher was out of the closet. He’d slept with about a million men—it wasn’t like he’d been discreet. People would find out.
“I wanted to fly from Samoa right to Los Angeles,” Peni said. “But my family wouldn’t hear of it.”
“No, I don’t suppose they would,” Max said. “You can’t blame them. That’s the way it should be.”
That’s the way it should be, Wyatt thought. But it wasn’t like that for everybody.
Which made it all the more painful that Howard was out of his life. Howard was—had been—his entire life. His family. Howard had rescued him when his blood family had rejected him.
Only to abandon me.
He bit down on his lower lip. No. No pain tonight.
“But the advance buzz for Drunks is already good,” Asher was saying. “People are talking. They might pick it up for a series.”
“Really?” asked Scott. “This is the play you did a few months ago at the Pegasus?”
Asher nodded.
“How can they make it into a series? Wasn’t the story pretty much told?”
“Yeah. But they like the characters a lot. They want to explore the idea of what happens next.”
“Whoa.” Scott grinned. “It only proves that anything can happen.”
Wyatt grinned back. Amazing. Scott. The pessimist. Talking like anything could happen. Then, mind bouncing as usual and unable to resist—he was Wyatt Dolan after all—he asked, “So tell me, Asher. Have you seen Spencer Morrison naked?”
“Wyatt!” said Max. “How was he supposed to do that?”
Asher shook his head and then, bless his heart, blushed. Had Wyatt ever seen Asher blush? “No. But I could have. He sure offered.”
Wyatt’s mouth fell open.
“He tried to get me in bed.”
Wait. What? What had Asher just said? “Spencer Morrison?” Wyatt exclaimed. “Spencer-fucking-Morrison?”
Asher nodded.
“You know, they say he’s going to get nominated for an Oscar this year,” Scott interjected, apparently unaffected by Asher’s bombshell. “For Crosshairs.”
Wyatt shook his head, held up a hand. “You know I was mostly kidding, right? About the naked part?”
Asher grinned. “No, you weren’t. You were hoping I got a look at him in a dressing room or something….”
Wyatt bit his lip. Well. It was true.
“Well, I was standing next to him, taking a piss if you must know, and I could have looked—”
“And you didn’t?” Wyatt said, his voice a squeak. “You didn’t even peek? You could have seen Spencer-fucking-Morrison’s dick and you didn’t look? Oh—My—Gods! Sacrilege. Hand over your gay card! Now.”
Asher looked over at Peni and placed a hand on his knee. “There is only one penis I want to see these days, Wyatt.”
Peni smiled like a high-school girl. “Oh, Asher.” They kissed.
I don’t believe this! I have fallen asleep and woken back up in the twilight zone.
“You know I wouldn’t have minded,” Peni said. “I mean, if you’d peeked? After all, I certainly don’t want you to have to give up your gay card.”
Asher laughed. “Well… I might have caught a glimpse….”
Wyatt jumped to his feet, nearly spilling his plate of food. “And? And?”
“I honestly didn’t get a good look. But he was sure trying to show it to me.”
Wyatt shook his head violently, held his hands up high, and then clasped them to his chest. “Okay. Wait. I am trying to picture this.” And he could. He could! Standing next to Spencer-fucking-Morrison—only the next Matthew McConaughey or Bradley Cooper. “You are telling me that Spencer Morrison was wagging his cock at you—”
Asher laughed and gave a shrug.
“—and you didn’t look?”
“It was kind of pathetic, really.”
“His cock?” The world was coming to an end. “Spencer Morrison’s cock is pathetic?” It couldn’t be. It—could—not—be!
“No,” said Asher. “Not his cock. Him. So full of himself. Thinking all he had to do was show me his cock and I’d be on my knees. Trying to seduce me that way. As if I couldn’t resist him.”
Wyatt shook his head. If Spencer Morrison had waved his cock at him, he would have been on his knees in a flash. Of course, it had been a long time since he’d been on his knees. Sometimes he wondered if he ever would again. Then sometimes he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“I don’t even know why you care,” Asher said. “He’s not your type. Way too skinny, isn’t he?”
Wyatt opened his eyes wide. “Doesn’t matter. That was celebrity dick, Asher. You never miss a chance to look at celebrity dick.”
Everybody started to laugh.
“You know, I used to feel that way,” Scott said. “But now Cedar…. Well, I don’t need to see anybody else’s either.”
Wyatt put his hands on his hips. He was feeling a real fit coming on. “No! No-no-no-no-no!” He shook his head again.
“I would look,” Cedar said.
“Cedar!” Scott glowered at his lover.
This only caused more laughter around the room.
“Anyway,” Asher said. “When I wouldn’t look, he took another tactic. He came right into my trailer one day and all but grabbed my ass. I told him I belonged to Peter Wagner—”
Only one of the richest gay men in the country—hell, richest men in the country period—and a producer on Drunks as well.
“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” Wyatt said and tried to let it sink in. Spencer Morrison was gay. And tried to show Asher his cock. Surely it would have been okay to look! Wyatt had an entire collection of celebrity nudes on his computer. Hundreds (thousands?) of pictures. But not one of Spencer Morrison. Shirtless, sure, but not even a butt shot. Howard wouldn’t have cared if Wyatt looked. Howard wouldn’t have cared if Wyatt blew him. Howard would have called him crazy for not doing so. Would have pushed Wyatt out of the way if he’d been there.
Then Wyatt noticed the way Asher was looking at Peni and the way Peni was looking back. Gods… in love. They were so in love. Had Howard ever looked at him that way?
Yes. He could remember Howard holding every door open for him, taking him to dinner, buying him single red roses. And making love to him like no one ever had before. It had been so much more than the fumbling, awkward sex he’d had with boys in high school. Boys who would call him faggot at school but happily ask him to their houses for a sleepover and an exchange of mutual blowjobs on weekends. Mutual if he was lucky, that was. Usually it meant him blowing them. And Wyatt, desperate for any human contact, accepted it.
Howard didn’t deny him anything but his ass and treated him so differently from those boys….
But even in the beginning, Howard had made it clear he could never be monogamous.
That had broken Wyatt’s heart. It had. It really had. Hard to remember that kid he used to be. The dreamer. The romantic. Looking for a knight in shining armor. Yet now it came back clearly. The ache at the idea that Howard wanted other men. How could he practically cut Wyatt’s steak for him but want other men at the same time? The first night that Howard told him they wouldn’t be monogamous, he’d gone and taken a shower. Taken a shower to muffle the sound. So Howard wouldn’t know. Taken a shower and bawled. Then Howard came home the next day with flowers, and Wyatt had been lost, totally unable to resist him. He’d decided “fuck it.” If he couldn’t have the Disney fairy tale, he’d have the next best thing.