He slid down and lay flat on the bed. He rested his left hand on his belly. His right arm hung beside him, fingers wanting to search out Cody's, the only apology he thought might mean anything.
Cody watched him from the corner of his eye. It might be that Arun had had enough, that he was laying still so that he could gather enough nerve to get up and walk out. But it looked softer. It almost seemed like defeat, an admittance that he was wrong.
The thought of coming out had crossed Cody's mind many times over the years. He'd say to himself, After this movie's been released, but then do nothing about it, because in the back of his mind, having never been prone to rash decisions, he always knew that he was doing the right thing. He'd seen the future, in a way. What his life and career would be like after he came out, and that was always enough to convince him to carry on as he was, the mask still in place. But as time passed, he began to see what else had been affected by his choices. He might now have the career he always wanted, but he could see the things he didn't have, the things he never knew he'd need. A partner. A lover. A friend with whom he could talk about anything. And he'd never discussed any of this before (throwing himself so heavily into his career had meant that proper friendships never happened), so in a way, even though it had seemingly gone disastrously, thanks to this argument, did that mean that Arun truly was a friend? And did that mean he might also be the other two things as well?
He pushed those thoughts aside, trying to remind himself of why he'd chosen to walk this particular path. If the public found out he was gay, his career would be over. He'd accepted that. Back then of course, it would have been true. Completely over. Now, things might not be so cut and dried. Sure, as an action star, in the big budget blockbusters, paired up with the hot young leading actresses of the day (who always seemed to be younger than their male counterparts), those days were probably numbered. But perhaps a detour wasn't out of the question. A tweaking to the roles he did. Maybe he might be lucky and find a second life as an actor in well-respected, but low paid roles. Financially it wouldn't be a problem. He'd made sure of that. That way, whilst he put that money to good use, by helping out those in the industry who aren't able to find their feet the traditional way, might it be possible to keep alive the thing he loves doing?
"I don't think we'd have met," he said, following his train of thought out loud. "If I hadn't made the choices I did."
"I'm not a project to you, am I?"
Cody's face crumpled. "No. God, no. Absolutely not."
Arun closed his eyes in relief. In the silence that had fallen between them, he too had been over-thinking things. Cody had already explained his reasoning for sticking with the well-paid blockbusters and it had occurred to him, when he finally allowed himself to let his guard down, that perhaps the two of them meeting had all just been part of Cody's plan, somehow. A plan to hook up with someone, fuck them, use them, get whatever it was that he needed out of it. It wasn't a plan that made any sense, thinking about it again now.
He rolled over onto his side, head propped up in the cup of his hand, and looked directly at Cody.
"I knew it wasn't. I did, honestly. I don't know why I even said it."
Cody smiled at him and it was such sweet liberation to be able to do so, having gotten himself so worked up over a couple of arguments, so stupid (that word again) and with no idea how they'd even begun. In fact, now that the two of them had pushed aside the disagreement, it occurred to Cody that he was probably giving the argument too much weight. It was their first one, yes, but it wasn't like they were in a relationship. It had only been a few hours! He wondered if perhaps there was a reason that he had allowed his mind to dwell on it, to let the argument even get to where it had gotten. Was he subconsciously trying to destroy things, to give himself the way out that he knew he still could take? After all, things had got very real, very quickly and after so long waiting for something like this to happen, it wouldn't be unreasonable for it to scare him so much. He knew though that that's exactly what it was - it was just fear. A silly thing that he kept hold of on the inside. Now what he could have hold of—on the outside, in the real world—was warm and beautiful and tender and loving, and that was a much more worthy thing to focus on.
"It was just chance. Beautiful luck. And do you not think that it makes perfect sense? I loved A Life Alone. It felt like exactly the kind of film that I should put my weight behind. I think, in a way, because of the message of it and the diversity in it, that I saw it as a way of atoning for me staying in the closet. If I was the one who backed another project from the man who created that film, that might be a start on making things right."
He lowered himself onto his side, so that he was facing Arun. Mirroring him. The gap between them had shrunk.
"I had a thought this morning," he said, shifting his eyes off Arun for a second. "I ignored it, hoping it would go away. I'd intended for all this to just be a business arrangement. Nothing more than that. But— I'm not imagining this, am I? I've never felt more relaxed with anyone than I have with you. I know it's only been a few hours but we've got something, haven't we?" Arun nodded, once. "It's great, it truly is. But it's scary. That's what occurred to me this morning. If you and I are becoming something, does that mean that the second half of my career is here already? I don't know if I'm ready for it. Or even capable of it. What if I'm not anything more than just a dumb action movie star? What if all I'm going to do from now on is show myself up and make a fool of myself. I truly will be a fraud then."
Arun put his hand out, placing it on Cody's hip. He shuffled closer.
"It's okay." He moved his arm to Cody's back and rubbed it gently. "I can tell you straight away that you will not fail at whatever you do. You're a great actor. I've known that for a long time. And that's not just me saying that, even though I have been a little infatuated with you for a long time." He smiled at Cody, who smiled back. "The problem has been the films you've done. They haven't pushed you enough. They haven't given you the opportunity to really shine." He pushed Cody onto his back and lay on top of him, his head close to Cody's. "You're worrying about nothing. You'll see."
"You think? Really?"
"Yes. Without doubt. Just forget about it."
Cody ran a finger down Arun's arm. They looked at each other suggestively.
"And how, exactly, might I do that?"
Arun's hand moved lower. "I know just the way."
Having gotten up out of his chair, primarily to stretch his legs (and noticing that there was yet another thread loose on the chair) Arun went into the kitchen, the phone still pressed to his ear, and poured himself a drink of water. The conversation had been going on for almost an hour and showed no signs of stopping, not that he wanted it to. Whatever was going wrong on the set of Cody's film could continue to go wrong as far as Arun was concerned. He wouldn't mind if it was never fixed. If they were sent home from school early. Never to go back.
He'd never been in a relationship like this. He doubted anyone had. Ever. It was everything he'd ever longed for when he'd been sat in the cinema, Cody glistening down at him. And it was so much more than that too. They'd dived in and got the sex out of the way. Great sex. Mind-blowing sex, actually. And since then, they'd talked and talked and talked. And talked. There was so much to find out about each other. Most of it good. A few dubious bits (but who doesn't have those) and the odd thing neither of them probably ever wanted to talk about again. But the most important thing was that the vast majority of it meant something to them both. There were so many similarities that Arun often wondered if he wasn't asleep and was just making the whole thing up, creating Cody as some kind of projection of himself. That morning, however, before settling down to fix the issues with his script, he'd sorted out his car insurance, which was how he knew it wasn't a dream.
No, this was wonderful and joyful and sunny and—
He let out a contented sigh.
"Are you alright?" said Cody, thousands of miles away, his forehead crumpling as
he tried to decode what he'd just heard.
Arun laughed. He was lovesick. Other than that, everything was great.
"I'm good. I've been thinking about things though. It wasn't you being naïve, that night at the hotel. It was me. I shouldn't have argued with you about any of it. Who am I to tell you how you should have lived your life."
Cody sat and listened, blinking fast as tears threatened to form. He genuinely had forgotten all about the argument, but to hear Arun's apology, spoken so sincerely, was the most heartwarming thing. He was an emotional person (like most actors), but he didn't allow himself to wallow, instead wondering why Arun's words had even affected him like that. Perhaps it was because he was stuck in a trailer, going nowhere, all alone. He missed Arun. Sometimes just hearing his voice wasn't enough.
"Actually," Arun continued, "I admire the way you've gone about things. You were smart enough to know when it was better to think about yourself rather than others. It's just as important as anything else and it takes guts. I know I said you should have been open from the start but it's not easy when you're young. Imagine if you'd have had your dreams crushed. Would you have been able to handle it?"
"I doubt it," said Cody. His voice cracked, which surprised him. He swallowed hard.
"No, I don't think you would either." He paused for a moment to consider how to say what he wanted to say next.
Cody remained silent, listening to the sound of Arun's breath. He wanted to be there with him, wrapped in his arms. There were sixty-eight more days on this shoot, taking him all over the world. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure if he could do it.
"The problem is me," said Arun, having found the words (and the courage). "I can get so blinkered about this kind of thing. About being gay. I want to live in a world where everyone is treated as equals."
"That world doesn't exist."
"I know. I keep on forgetting. I keep forgetting that the way things work, in this industry—probably everywhere—is that if you had come out at the beginning, you wouldn't have reached the heights that you have. Even if you were just starting now, I still don't think you'd be fine. They'd just replace you with someone else. Someone straight. That's just how it is. It happens with women all the time. They get to a certain age and are replaced with someone younger. It pisses me off. The whole damn system pisses me off and I wish I could do something about it, but I can't. Because it's all about money. Progression is so fucking slow when it's all about money."
"You're ranting again." Cody's voice was soft. This wasn't something he particularly liked about Arun, but he'd soon learnt how to dampen the flames. It was good that he was a passionate person though, even if, as he himself said, it was capable of blinding him to everything else.
"Sorry," said Arun, running a hand through his hair. "I find it difficult to take a step back sometimes."
"It's okay. You don't have to stop yourself from being you. Not around me."
"Thank you. You're just the best. Anyway, that's what I should have said that night."
"That I'm the best?"
Arun heard Cody laughing but knew he kind of believed it.
"No, you fool. Thank you. That's what I should have said. You talked about how we might not have met if you'd done things differently and, yeah, that's not something I want to think about. Not just from a personal perspective either. Everything you've done has meant that I can make the film I want to make, without interference. I could not have done that any other way. You're letting me make my art without compromise and I cannot thank you enough for that. We have something good together, you and I, and it's all down to you."
"What are you wearing?"
There was silence. Arun sat back down in his chair wondering if he'd missed something, confused by the sudden change in topic.
"Why?"
"All this talk of how wonderful I am has got me a little hot and bothered." Speaking to Arun often got him feeling this way—the relationship was still new and exciting—but right now, it was more of a deliberate choice to take things that way. The conversation they were having had gotten a little serious and mushy and he really wasn't in the mood for that kind of talk.
Arun laughed, short and sharp. "Is there any limit to the size of your ego?"
"There is not, and it's all your fault. So...?"
"A pair of jeans and a shirt. Pale blue. Nothing fancy."
"No socks?"
Arun smiled. "Nope. It's quite a tight shirt too."
He heard Cody let out a long sigh.
"It's pretty hot in here," said Arun.
"Too hot for clothes?" said Cody reaching down into his pants.
Arun got up and headed towards the stairs. "Probably."
"Take your shirt off."
Arun made his way to the bedroom, dropping his shirt to the floor. He lay on the bed, on his back, nestling the phone on the pillow, by his ear.
Cody got comfortable on the sofa in his trailer. He thought about stripping but stopped himself. He was in costume still, having not known how long the delay would be. Keeping it on felt thrilling because it was something of an iconic outfit. It might only have been a simple pair of jeans, with a rip in one knee, and a distinctive red-and-blue checked shirt, topped off with an old, worn and battered brown leather waistcoat and thigh-length boots, but it had been used in the first two Blake Lancaster films during the more adventurous and thrilling escapades. It hadn't been used at all for the third film though, so here it was making something of a comeback
"Should I take my jeans off?" Arun said.
"Unbutton them. What pants have you got on? What colour?"
Arun looked down at the pair of black, supermarket-brand pants and scrunched his nose.
"Purple Calvins," he said, smiling to himself. He heard Cody's breath.
"Put your hand down your pants. Are you hard?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
Arun stroked himself, enjoying the smoothness. He let out a moan.
"Don't hold back," said Cody, stifling a moan of his own.
"Can I take my pants off?" Arun said. It was usually him who made the demands, who took control of the sex, so asking the questions and being the subservient one was something new, and it felt good to both of them to change things up.
Cody gave him permission, picturing Arun naked as he himself remained fully clothed. He closed his eyes. Arun did the same.
They both got into a rhythm, Arun gasping and panting and talking dirty (upon Cody's instruction). Cody listened, letting out little more than short, barely audible gasps. Having started out slow, Cody soon heard the change in pace of Arun's breaths. He pictured the speed at which Arun's hand would be moving, matching his own pulls to it. Soon after, Arun began to groan, getting fully into it, his pleasure loud.
"I'm gonna come."
"No. Hold it." Cody's chest rose heavily.
"I can't."
"Yes you can. Wait for me. Hold it, baby. Hold it."
Arun tried but it was no use. His stomach was tightening, ready for the release.
"I'm gonna come," he said again, his words breathy and sultry.
The phone slipped off the pillow, away from his ear and Arun's orgasm took over. Cody could still hear it clearly, as he loosened and let his own ecstasy overtake him. He came quietly, held back by the thought that anyone could be right outside the trailer (loving the idea of it too) but his release held the same fervour as Arun's.
PART THREE
Holiday
Whilst he and Cody were being driven up a long, winding road, Arun peered out of the window, watching the scenery float by - white stucco houses with red terracotta tiles, oak and pine trees lining the roadside. The light was beginning to fade outside, but through the blacked-out windows it hardly made any difference. The outside world had been dimmed ever since he and Cody had stepped off the plane and straight into the chauffeur-driven Mercedes.
They were on holiday. A break from everything, at last, and a chance to finally spend s
ome time together. Three weeks of it in fact. In the glorious warmth and seclusion of the Spanish hillside.
"It shouldn't be too much further, I hope," said Cody.
Arun turned and looked at him. Cody was also staring out of the window, and had been for most of the journey. It was charming and endearing, Arun thought. He was like a child who was constantly discovering new and wonderful things, pointing them all out to Arun, who couldn't see from his side of the car. Not that it mattered. It was more than enough to hear the thrill in Cody's voice.
"I can't believe it's been so long since you took a holiday."
"Forever," said Cody, not shifting his gaze from the window.
"It can't be healthy. A break does you the world of good."
"Just one day out of life."
Arun laughed. Madonna always did know best.
Cody twisted his head around, flashed a smile at Arun, that was as warm and comforting as the Spanish heat, and then went back to observing the world outside.
"I've thrown myself into work for the last decade," he said. "No time for a break."
"Your career wouldn't have come crashing down if you'd have hit pause for a bit."
"I know. At least, I know that now. I was convinced it would when I was younger."
"So," said Arun, tearing himself from the window and shifting further into the centre, the leather seats squeaking beneath him. He dragged the word out, coating it with a sense of wonder. "Three weeks of bliss."
"Absolutely." Hearing that Arun had moved closer, Cody did the same, his body turning away from the window quicker than his head. "Three weeks of nothing."
"You're not really going to do nothing though, are you? For three whole weeks?"
"That's the plan. Pure, much needed, relaxation. It's what I've prescribed for you too."
The Movie Star's Secret Page 6