by Amy Lane
“I’m… I’m just not good enough to be a parent,” Chase mumbled, feeling naked again. “I’m a porn star, right? Isn’t there a law there? I mean… God. My resume sucks for shit. And I’m what—twenty-one years old? If you had to apply for a license here, the league of respectable citizens would totally reject me, you know that, right?”
Doc nodded, like he was seriously considering it. “Yes, I know that. But they’d be wrong.”
Chase swallowed. “Don’t make me beg, here, Doc. Why would they be wrong?”
Doc smiled a little. “You keep your promises, Chase, or you try to. You work really hard to treat people decent, in spite of not having a lot of examples for how to do that. You broke up with the love of your life when you weren’t healthy enough to be with him. You accepted the consequences of your actions with Mercy, even though that obviously hurt. And you stopped. You’ve pointed it out a thousand times, and this is where it counts. You could not hurt the people in your life that much, no matter how much pain you were in. That says volumes about what kind of person you can be, if only you let yourself have some happiness. I know you’re thinking Tommy is more than you deserve. But why don’t you deserve it all?”
“Like getting the bicycle and the action figure for Christmas, and the baseball glove and the tickets to the game too?”
Doc smiled a little. “Sure, Chase. Why not?”
“Because all I ever got was sweaters and underwear, which I needed, because by that time of year, I didn’t have either.”
Doc nodded. “Well maybe it’s time Christmas hit your house, you think, Chase?”
Chase shrugged. “Maybe I should wait until after Christmas to decide,” he said quietly. “Maybe by then, I’ll know, really know, that I’m gonna be okay to do this. You think?”
Doc smiled. “I think that’s the planner we all know and love. And I think Tommy’s going to be begging you to open that present early.”
Chase smiled a little then. “Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “If I say yes, I think it could be the only present he really wants.”
CHASE was not expecting the crowded living room or the “Welcome Home” banner across the kitchen. He wasn’t expecting his friends from Johnnies to be there, or Donnie’s parents or Kevin, or even some guys from his baseball team who had apparently heard the whole story.
He was not expecting Tommy’s house to be full, or to see the little black kitten terrorizing everybody and their mother, while Buster sat quietly in Tommy’s bedroom, curled up in a little ball of “Can this fucking end now?”
He didn’t expect Tommy’s hand to clench his so tightly, or Tommy’s voice in his ear. “It’s okay, right? I wanted you to know you were loved.”
Chase turned to him and blinked hard. “Oh, Jesus, Tommy. Don’t you know you don’t surprise a mental patient if you don’t want them to fucking cry on you?”
Tommy grinned and wrinkled his nose, then grabbed a box of tissue—the good aloe kind—and shoved it in his hand. “Cry away, you pussy bastard. I stocked up.”
There was cake and pizza—and Tommy ate both. Why not? They’d both lost weight in the past month and a half—they could afford it.
Chase got hugs from all the guys, who were apparently his friends whether he was in the company or not. He got some smirks from the guys on his baseball team, but some hugs too, and that was nice. He had a couple of good conversations, one of them with John.
“So, I had this idea,” John said, and Chase looked down, feeling bad. He’d been slated for two shoots in the time he’d been away, and he wondered who had covered.
“I’m sort of not doing that anymore,” he said, embarrassed, and John’s friendly hand on his shoulder eased that a little.
“See, the thing is,” John said, “people get attached to you guys. Your stuff is gonna sell for a while, and that’s good. But I think an exit interview—you and Tango, no sex if you don’t want to—that might help it sell better. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but….” John shrugged. “Like I said, it’s just a thought. I know you’re both going to school—if you’re not doing shoots anymore, this might help the money stretch, okay?”
Chase blinked and smiled. “Yeah, John. I’ll talk to Tommy. Either way, it’s really nice of you to offer.”
John shrugged and looked embarrassed. “There’s a lot of drama behind the scenes in this business, right? But people show up, they shoot, it’s all good. But when they suddenly don’t show up, you realize they were friends and you sort of miss them. It would be nice if I could do something for some friends.”
Chase nodded, and promised to ask Tommy again, and then he spotted Donnie’s mom across the room and shook John’s hand (and got a hug instead) and then excused himself to go talk to Donnie’s mom.
And he realized that he didn’t know what to say to her.
It didn’t matter. She greeted him with a hug, and then a faintly disapproving expression as she eyed the people in Tommy’s little house.
“Porn?” she asked, her voice dry, and for the first time Chase realized he didn’t know much about her. “Porn. I mean….” She shook her head and then rethought what she was going to say. “I’m sorry. I mean, I can’t approve, Chase, but I guess it’s clear you had so much more going on than just the porn. I’m glad you quit before I knew you were doing it.”
Chase blushed in shame and held his hands behind him like a little kid. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Armstrong. I didn’t mean to let you down.”
“Ouch, Donnie!” Colleen Armstrong looked at her son, and Chase realized that he’d actually given her a solid whap on the back of the head.
“Donnie!” he protested, and Donnie shook his head.
“You can’t make him feel bad, Mom. It’s the rule. It’s the one thing I said when you were coming over here, remember? I said he needed our support, not our bullshit, remember? ’Yandro got it, Kevin got it—but I didn’t bring you guys here to make him feel bad.”
Chase looked at his oldest friend and smiled. “It’s okay, Donnie. I’m not that fragile. I can take some disapproval—it’s not gonna kill me. I just….” He sighed. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said apologetically to Donnie’s mom. “I will. I’m just glad you came.”
Donnie wouldn’t let him walk away, though. He had turned to go into the bedroom and pet Buster, but Donnie followed and Chase didn’t argue as they both sat on the bed. Buster started licking Chase’s fingers, so Chase figured he was forgiven for being gone so long, and Donnie said, “What’s up?”
He didn’t even think about lying.
“Mercy’s pregnant.”
“Oh fuck! And you were going to tell my mom?”
Chase blushed, realizing how idealized that relationship had been, how he had blown Donnie’s mom up to be the be-all and end-all of mom-hood. Well, shit. Something else to talk to the Doc about the day after Thanksgiving.
“I don’t know any other mothers,” he said apologetically, and Donnie sighed.
“Yeah, well, I guess there’s that. And you’re right, she’s not a bad one. But she’s not going to get this situation, Chase. She’s not. She gets that I’m gay, but it’s all okay because she thinks Alejandro is a nice boy. She doesn’t understand that there’s a whole different way of looking at sex and at pictures and porn. She doesn’t get that it’s guys, sometimes, and that we just get raw and blatant when a girl—even a really uninhibited girl—would still need to be treated like a lady.”
Chase smiled a little. It was true. Mercy was pretty forward, but the way he and Tommy manhandled each other was still very different than the way he’d touched her in bed.
“Yeah. Tough explaining gay porn to your mom, but it’s okay, Donnie. In fact….” Chase frowned and tried to put it into words. It was a new experience for him, putting things into words. He was used to disappearing into his own head, staring at the red door, coming up with words in his head that would never be uttered, but he couldn’t do that anymore. The thought of doing that to a little kid who j
ust wanted to know why the sky was blue made him shudder.
Donnie waited. He sat with simple patience, and Chase wanted to just hug him, because Donnie knew.
“See,” Chase said slowly, “I was afraid. I was afraid I couldn’t be a good parent, because I couldn’t be perfect. Like your mom—”
“My mom’s not perfect!”
“I know that. I mean, she’s great—I’ve always thought she was great. But until just right now, I always thought she was perfect. But she’s wrong, I think, about the disapproval thing. Not because that’s what you want your kids involved in, but because… I don’t know. Because the guys who came here are pretty fucking awesome, and I don’t know if she gets that. But it’s okay. It’s okay if she’s wrong. I mean, I hope she still lets me in the house, but in the meantime….”
“If she can be wrong, you can do this?” Donnie supplied, and Chase managed a smile.
“Yeah. I mean… I dunno. I’ve been home for five minutes, and I haven’t even had my little mental patient nap,” he yawned, because all the people had been exhausting, “but it’s something to think about. You can make a mistake or two, and you still won’t be as heinous as….”
“As everyone who let you down.”
“She must have been so desperate,” Chase whispered. That was another thing he still needed to talk about. God, so much work to do. For a moment, it was overwhelming how much he still needed to hammer out. But still… Mrs. Donnie’s Mom had been wrong… she’d made Chase feel bad, and not on purpose. It was something to think about.
Donnie stood up and came around to hug him. “I’ll go tell everyone you’re resting,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry—no one will get their feelings hurt. You said hi to everyone, you don’t look like you’re going to self-destruct anytime soon—you’ve done your job.”
Chase yawned again, and stretched out on the bed, his head resting on one arm while he continued to stroke a luxuriating Buster with the other hand. “Thanks, Donnie. Text me tomorrow?”
“Never miss it.”
“Send me some good porn, ’kay? It’s like I was in the hospital and everyone lost their sense of humor about that.”
Donnie laughed. “Yeah, you big ’mo. I’ll send you some raunchy shit so you can feel all grown-up and better.”
“Donnie?”
“Yeah?”
“If I say I love you, ’Yandro won’t get jealous, will he?”
“Naw, Chase. Love you too.”
And with that, Donnie was gone and Chase was left stroking Buster and listening to the comforting sound of his purr.
Tommy woke him up an hour later because it was time for his medication and because everyone was gone. Chase had some cold pizza (which tasted so good after hospital food for a month and a half) and then sat with his head on Tommy’s chest as they watched television.
They got ready for bed just like they used to when Chase had stayed over, and the comfort of it was unbelievable. It was like warm slippers when his feet had been so cold he couldn’t feel his toes. When they crawled into bed and turned out the lights, the beauty of Tommy’s body in the dark was absolutely sublime. Chase started tasting him, his stubbly chin, the strong column of his neck, the hardness of his chest, the sharp little points of his nipples. Tommy sucked in a breath and then stopped and muttered, “Why is your face wet?”
Chase shook his head, rubbing his wet cheeks on Tommy’s chest and then suckling on the nipple again, tasting tears.
Tommy gasped again, and pulled at Chase’s head, pulling him up so he was on Tommy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked, like he was afraid to.
“You’re mine,” Chase whispered, turning his head to a collarbone. “You’re mine. You’re all mine. No… no other things. No other people. You. Are. Mine.”
“Oh God,” Tommy groaned. “Keep saying it. I think you’re gonna make me come.”
“You come before I suck you off, I’ll kill ya!”
Tommy laughed and Chase kept kissing him, down his chest, the wonder of his stomach, and…. “God, Tommy. You’re so thin. You shouldn’t be this thin. You should eat.”
Tommy breathed deliberately. “You make it a point to hang around, Chase, I’ll make it a point to eat, okay?”
Chase sank his teeth gently into Tommy’s soft stomach just to hear him gasp, and then made his way to the jutting hipbones, while Tommy tried not to giggle with frustration.
“You’re teasing me!” he accused, and Chase gave a fluttery little lick across Tommy’s balls.
“Yup,” he said. “Because I can.”
He moved down then and pushed at Tommy’s thighs, so Tommy’s whole body was spread out, and he started at Tommy’s taint and licked a line up. He paused for a minute and giggled a little himself.
“What?”
“You’ve got hair on your balls!”
Tommy started to giggle too. “God, I do!” His hand came down in wonder and he started to walk his fingers across his skin with an unconscious sensuality that made Chase squirm in the dark.
“How did that not itch like a motherfucker?”
In a half a second, Tommy had rolled over and rolled him over, until Chase was on his back and his boxers were down around one ankle. Tommy was ruffling the blond hair on Chase’s balls, his taint, even the stubble between his ass cheeks, and Chase was trying and failing not to laugh his ass off.
“God! Tommy! Stop! Oh fuck!” And Tommy stopped tickling the hair on his balls and moved up to his stomach and then to his ribs and then to his armpits, and when he got that far, Chase started to retaliate by tickling the same places. It was an explosion of laughter, of wrestling, of touching, and when it finally wound down, they were naked, their full bodies touching, their chests heaving from a tickle fight.
“Isn’t it funny,” Chase panted. “You know, the stuff that happens when you’re not looking.”
Tommy was suddenly serious. “Getting better is going to be like that,” he said softly. “I know you worry about all the shit you haven’t wrapped up in your brain, but… but I haven’t thrown up in three months. I haven’t. No laxatives, no puking, no binging on bad shit. I just… like you said. Life happened, and I was still trying to stay healthy and life happened, and eventually I was better. It’ll be hard—you came home during the holidays, and you don’t have school, and you’ll feel a little lost. But then life will happen, and you’ll keep seeing Doc, and you’ll get better, and the awkward itchiness won’t happen quite so much. Right?”
Chase laughed a little and nuzzled Tommy’s neck. “The itchiness of a healed psyche?” he said, and Tommy giggled, and then before they could start that up again, he turned his head and caught Chase’s mouth in a kiss, hard and deep, and this one didn’t stop.
The kiss went on and on until Chase was hard and aching and Tommy was grinding up against his thigh, and they both reached down and grabbed the other, thrusting into each other’s hands with little grunts and hard sobs, until Tommy groaned, “Fuck!” and came in Chase’s hand, hot, sticky, and wonderful. Chase didn’t say anything; he just bit Tommy’s shoulder, hard, and then spilled himself, both of them panting into the darkness. Tommy reached over his shoulder and came back with a clean towel that he’d apparently put there for this exact use, wiping them both off before pitching it back into the hamper. Then they both clambered into their boxers before pulling up the covers.
Chase laughed softly when all of the busywork and cleanup of making love was done. “It’s a lot easier on the porn set, isn’t it?” he asked, chuckling and settling into Tommy’s arms. Tommy was being the big spoon tonight, and Chase didn’t mind. He needed the security, this first night away from the hospital. He’d grown used to night sounds, people walking the halls, the bright light beyond his darkened doorway. It was almost frighteningly quiet here inside Tommy’s four walls.
“It should be harder in real life,” Tommy said quietly. “There’s no tomorrows on the porn set, Chase. Tomorrow’s something you’ve got to work for.”
Chase snuggled in a little deeper. “Here’s to tomorrow,” he said in all sincerity, and he appreciated Tommy’s kiss on the back of his neck. There was a movement, and Buster jumped creakily up onto the comforter, followed by the kitten. The two of them curled up together so Buster could groom his little friend, and they started a purring that practically vibrated the bed.
It was a night noise, and it was comforting, and Chase fell asleep to that and Tommy’s breathing in his ear.
Home Movies
THE two boys on the couch were fully dressed, and nicely so. They wore button-up shirts, slacks that went all the way to their belly buttons, and nice loafers with socks. They were fit, but not really buff—the taller blond, blue-eyed one had sort of a rangy build, and the look was good on him. The shorter, dark-haired, dark-eyed boy looked like he could be a runner or a bicyclist. They held hands fiercely and looked at the camera with what amounted to shyness.
“So,” said the camera man, “this is Chance and Tango, and fans here at Johnnies have seen them shoot scenes with everyone except each other, is that right?”
The blue-eyed boy nodded and smiled. There was nothing cocky about him, just a steady sort of sincerity and a sort of deference for the guy behind the camera. “Yeah, Tango and I never got busy on camera. I don’t know why.” Chance looked at Tango and they both shrugged.
“Maybe we didn’t look good together?” Chance asked, looking a little worried, and Tango rolled his eyes.
“Maybe we were both hung like gods and they were afraid it would break the camera.”
Chance burst into raucous laughter, and Tango did too. Tango leaned over Chance’s shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Chance blushed and looked away.
“Very cute,” the cameraman said dryly. “So I understand nobody’s going to get busy today—and believe me, hearts are breaking all over the place—but we wanted to do an interview with you two because you’re sort of a fairy-tale romance here at the Johnnies set, and we wanted to hear from you personally.”