Skipping Stones

by D. J. Manly

  "Leo, it's okay. It will be okay. Trust me."

  "I don't know how I'm going to pay you back for..."

  "I'll give you a job. Resort needs repainting and stuff. You can help me do that until you get on your feet, decide what you want to do."

  "What about that...fuck you live with?"

  "Reed? Don't worry about him. He's gone. He hasn't been back for months, off screwing some cabana boy probably. Anyway, this is my place, too, don't forget."

  A half hour later, the phone chimed in the hall. It was Mark. He'd booked the flight for eight o'clock the next morning. "Shuttle will be there at five your time," Mark said. "I'll see you soon."

  "Mark, I love you."

  "I love you, too, crazy boy," he said and hung up.

  * * * *

  As the plane left the ground early the next morning, Leo felt empty. He was leaving his heart on that tarmac. Pierre. I want to hate you but how can I? How can I hate the man I held in my arms and gave everything to? There was such bitterness in his heart. The lies, the deceit. He felt like such a fool. He understood how Reed must have made Mark feel all these years. These kinds of men were nothing but leeches. They took your heart and ripped it into a million pieces, seducing you with their smiles, their kind words, their cocks. He'd never be taken in again.

  As he glanced out his window, he saw Paris getting farther away. Maybe this was meant to be. Maybe he and Mark were meant to meet these men who would use them and break their hearts only to be brought back together again, if only as best friends. He chastised himself for crazy thoughts. He looked at the watch Pierre had given him, still on his wrist. He'd intended to hock it last night. He'd made it to the pawn shop, but then turned around and went back to his room.

  Jacques and Felix had been talking together in low voices as he passed their door last night. The reconciliation had begun. Two hours later, his room shook with the aftershocks of their fucking, and Leo had smiled. Nothing had changed.

  He sat back on the plane and remembered how good he and Mark had been together. He couldn't help thinking that if Mark hadn't gone to Florida on vacation, and he hadn't been taken in by that prick, then...what? He would have been with Mark? He would never have met Pierre? Maybe. But as much as he disliked this Reed guy, he couldn't blame his entire life on him.

  All Leo needed now was to get his life back together, find some inspiration to paint again, and be with his best friend. The rest would take care of itself and all the damn Reeds and Pierres in the world would finally fade into the woodwork.

  * * * *

  Leo was tired when he got off the plane. But when he saw Mark's smiling face, the exhaustion lifted immediately. They hugged for a long time. They didn't really need to speak.

  "I can't wait to take a hot bath," Leo said.

  "You're so thin," Mark commented as they waited for the luggage at the carousel.

  "You saved my life," Leo told him.

  Mark reached over and squeezed his arm. "Remember how we used to play war when we were kids and I was always rescuing you? Well, I was just practicing for the real thing."

  "Yeah, right," Leo scoffed.

  "You are so pathetic," Mark threw at him, then together they both sang out, "Loser!" and burst into laughter.

  God, it was so good to be with Mark again. Those years just seemed to melt away and Leo wondered how he'd been able to stay away so long.

  "So," Leo said as Mark picked up his knapsack and slung it over his back, "how far is it?"

  "About two hours."

  "Two hours?" Leo gasped. "Where is this place, in the bloody wilderness?"

  "Just about." He chuckled as Leo followed him through the exit door and out into the visitor's lot. "The resort is very private. Good for people who want to be alone, away from the public eye. We get a celebrity or two once in awhile, and a lot of gay men."

  Leo grinned. "A lot of hot, gay men?"

  Mark looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes. "I thought you were off men?"

  "I'm off love. I'd never be off men. So, who are all these hot gay men...Reed's abandoned fucks?"

  Mark paused and looked at him. He looked stricken for a minute.

  "Oh, Mark, I'm sorry. I thought you'd laugh. I thought you were over Reed."

  "You don't get over someone like Reed. And he's coming back."

  "I thought you said he wasn't?"

  Mark walked faster now.

  "When?"

  "I don't know when but eventually he'll be back, okay?" Mark shot him a determined look, his jaw set.

  Leo nodded. The insistence in Mark's voice was raw. It seemed fresh and yet...no, he couldn't let this go.

  "Like my ride?" Mark asked, pointing his car starter at a sleek red sports car.

  "Damn, yeah. This is nice. Must have set you back some."

  "Truth be known, it's not mine. It belongs to Reed. I'm looking after it for him."

  "He must be loaded," Leo said as Mark threw his bag into the trunk.

  "He's a computer wizard. He's fixed the computer for the Queen of England."

  "And here I thought he was just another pretty face."

  Mark got into the driver's seat and opened the door on the other side for Leo. The inside was plush white leather with a mahogany dash. "That wasn't very nice," he chastised him.

  "Why are you defending him?" Leo protested. "The guy has broken your heart over and over again. I don't even know what you're still doing, running his resort."

  "It's our resort, mine and Reed's."

  "Yeah, how much yours?"

  "Enough to make it profitable and I love it out here. It's calm, beautiful and..."

  "Reed always comes home eventually and crawls into bed with you. And that's what you hang onto." Leo shook his head.

  "Don't compare my situation to yours, Leo." He started the engine and let it rev a few seconds. "At least Reed isn't married."

  "No, he just fucks every guy who moves. That's a whole lot better." Leo sneered.

  Mark roared out of the parking lot. Leo jerked backward and then grabbed the seat belt. "Okay." He laughed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

  Mark grinned at him. "We don't have to talk about Reed. Let's talk about you. Why aren't you painting?"

  "I don't have any paints for one." Leo laughed.

  "How come?"

  "I sold them for food."

  "Aw, shit, Leo." Mark groaned. "If only I'd known what was going on. No wonder you're so damn skinny."

  "And you look like you've put on a few," Leo teased.

  "Shut up." He punched him in the arm.

  "Ow." Leo laughed. "Substitute for sex?"

  "Maybe."

  "Are you getting any?"

  "Nope. Are you volunteering?" He laughed.

  Leo swallowed. Was he? Maybe. "No," he joked, "you're too chubby for me."

  "Gee, thanks, Leo. I'm so glad I brought you home."

  They both laughed. Honestly, Mark looked great. Sure he was a little heavier than he had been, but in no way did that take away from his charm. Mark was a cute, boyish looking sweetheart. He had a twinkle in his warm brown eyes and his sandy blond hair always looked messy no matter how much he combed it. He was short and stocky, a real Irishman in statue, but to Leo, right now, he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

  "What about Reed's hot leftovers?"

  "Leo!"

  "I mean, excuse me, the gay men who come to the wilderness to fuck?"

  "Usually they bring someone to fuck with unless they're into bears."

  "Bears? No shit?"

  Mark grinned. "Only brown ones, no grizzly, at least not in awhile."

  "Oh well, in that case." Leo folded his arms across his chest and Mark laughed out loud.

  "You should see your face."

  "Are there bears or not?"

  "Only the ones the twinks bring to keep them warm on cold nights."

  "You're a funny guy." Leo shook his head.

  "Leo, we're not in the woods. I told you the resort is in an isol
ated area, but not in the jungle. Relax, city boy."

  * * * *

  The resort turned out to be a beautiful main house with an indoor swimming pool and garden, and a huge dining room, with a series of private cabins scattered around, surrounded by lots of trees and bordered by a clear blue lake.

  "This is beautiful," Leo declared when he got out of the car.

  "Yep, and not a bear in sight." Mark smirked, taking the bag out of the trunk and handing it to him.

  "Anyone staying here now?"

  "One guy, a writer, rents the cabin with the kitchen down at the end. I never see him." He lowered his voice. "He's straight I think."

  Leo snickered. "Funny how that sounds like a dirty word."

  "Doesn't it? Come on. I'll show you around."

  Leo followed along behind him as they moved toward the main house. "I could see myself painting here but"--he sighed--"no paints. I'd settled for crayons."

  Mark glanced at him. "I may be able to help you out with the paints. I think I know where there are some. Can't guarantee they're still usable but..."

  "Did you take up painting?" Leo asked, stunned. Mark had never showed an interest in painting.

  "No...Reed," he said. "He was quite good, set up a studio for himself in the attic, then he just abandoned it."

  "I don't want anything from...I mean, I don't think it's right for me to use his stuff without asking."

  "He won't care. I told you he just stopped painting suddenly. He never did give me an answer when I asked him. It was like he had...lost his muse."

  Leo nodded and followed him inside. He knew what that was like. "It seems that Reed is a man of many talents," he muttered. It wasn't meant to sound insulting but he supposed it did.

  "It's his talent in bed that gets him into the most trouble," Mark confessed. "I swear, Reed could seduce a priest. There's just something about him that--"

  "Well, I know one thing," Leo interrupted, not really wanting to hear the details of Reed's prowess in bed, "he'd never be able to seduce me."

  "I doubt he'd try anyway."

  "Why's that?" Leo lifted an eyebrow.

  "You're not his type."

  "What's wrong with me?"

  "Nothing wrong with you. I just don't think that you're his type of man, that's all." He paused. "Well, maybe if there wasn't anyone else around."

  "Gee thanks, Mark."

  "Don't take it the wrong way. Plus, you don't like him for some reason. So like you said, he wouldn't be able to seduce you."

  "For some reason? I have plenty of reasons for not liking him; the way that man has treated you, for one. I can't believe you'd expect me to feel warm and fuzzy about him."

  "I didn't say you had to feel warm and fuzzy. I just said you didn't have to be so hard on him. He's human."

  "The real problem is you're still hung up on the guy, in spite of all he's done to you. He's broken your heart time and time again and--"

  "Are you over Pierre?" Mark snapped.

  Leo fell silent.

  Mark sighed. "I'm sorry, sensitive subjects." He laughed. "Let's not go there."

  "Agreed."

  Mark waved his hand around. "This is it. Come on in. I'll show you around."

  The house was beautiful, rustic looking in its own way, lots of wood everywhere, floors and beams. It had been built with an open concept, spacious, with living room and dining room one big sprawling room. There was a big kitchen in the back, a small bathroom, and a porch that went all way round the house.

  "Bedrooms are upstairs with two other bathrooms. You'll have your own," Mark said, running up the carved staircase. The narrow passageway was well lit on both sides. Mark indicated three large bedrooms. The decor was very male, but tasteful, and Mark showed him into the bedroom right across from his own.

  "You like it?"

  "Very nice," Leo said as Mark put down his backpack.

  "Come on, I'll show you where Reed paints."

  Leo followed him down the hallway. "What's this room?" he asked, trying the door. It was locked.

  "Oh, ah...the other bedroom. Sometimes Reed sleeps there," he muttered.

  "Oh." He had guessed that when Reed did come home, he and Leo shared the master bedroom, but it didn't look that way.

  "This door leads to the attic," he said, opening the last door at the end of the corridor.

  Leo followed Mark up a flight of stairs. When he arrived at the top, he let out a gasp of pleasure. "Oh, my God, it's beautiful."

  Mark grinned. "I knew you'd love it."

  "The light is perfect." He walked around the large open space, running his hands over the array of paints and brushes strewn across an old metal table. A variety of easels sat on the floor, some just waiting to be brought to life, as well as some with paintings in various stages of completion. He picked one up and turned it around, studying it. "Did he paint this?"

  "Reed painted everything here. You know me; I can't draw a straight line."

  "He has the eye. It's very..." He swallowed. "It's full of passion."

  Mark came and stood beside him. He peered at the painting of a meadow with a variety of wildflowers in the distance. There was some sun, but the sun was obscured by the clouds. "Where do you see passion in this? There aren't even any people."

  "There doesn't have to be people," Leo said. "It's a very sensual scene. The colors he used, the way he stroked the canvas with his brushes. Did he take lessons?"

  "I don't think so."

  Leo put down the painting. "He's a natural then."

  "Um," Mark murmured. "He's that, all right."

  Leo laughed. "We're talking about different things, I suspect."

  "Yep and we agreed not to..."

  "So, shut up already," Leo teased.

  Mark laughed and took him in a headlock. They tussled a little and it felt natural, like when they were boys.

  Mark released him. "Let's go downstairs. I'm starved."

  "Good idea. You sure he won't mind if I use his--"

  "Don't worry, I can handle Reed."

  In the kitchen, Leo helped Mark make chicken sandwiches. They ate outside and drank cold beer. It was relaxing and Leo was glad to be back in the US. "So," Leo sipped his beer, "where is he anyway?"

  "Where is who?" Mark asked, swinging his legs up onto the railing.

  "Reed."

  "I have no idea. Probably Europe."

  "Hobnobbing with the rich and famous?" Leo laughed.

  "No, working most likely."

  "Oh. I thought the resort was his work, that his family was rich."

  "Well off, not rich, and this resort..." Mark chuckled. "Reed could care less about this place. He took it over when his father died. It was a hobby really for Jack, Reed's dad. He was going to sell it until I begged him to keep it. I love it here."

  "What is he doing in Europe? Don't tell me, he's a spy?"

  "Very cute. No, I told you, he's a computer programmer, a practical genius."

  "Oh, yeah, right. So he just runs around the world diddling people's computers?"

  "Something like that." Mark shook his head with a grin. "Reed's a freelancer. He gets called in to set up computer systems where there have never been any before, and to fix problems. He does more and more charity stuff now, volunteering his time in third world countries, using computers to improve people's lives. That's what he likes best."

  "That doesn't sound like the guy you wrote me about--Mr. Egotistical, Insensitive, Fuck-Everything-That-Moved Guy."

  Mark stared at his bottle. "He can be that, too."

  Leo reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "You still love him. Does he even bother to tell you when he's coming home or..."

  Mark stood suddenly. "He doesn't owe me anything."

  "I know we promised not to...but I guess I'm curious about... I'm concerned about you. Are you hanging out here hoping one day he's going to...I mean, are you together at all?"

  "One day"--Mark looked at him--"Reed will wake up and realize that he loves me."<
br />
  "And if he doesn't?"

  "He will."

  "And the last time he shared your bed was?"

  Mark sighed. "Leo!"

  "Answer me. It's a simple question. When was the last time you fucked Reed?"

  "Last time he was home," he said hastily.

  "Which was?"

  He cleared his throat. "I don't remember."

  "And you heard from him when?"

  "He called me on my birthday."

  "Jesus, Mark. That was six months ago." Leo shook his head. "Fucking men. I finally refused to let Pierre walk all over me. You shouldn't let Reed."

  "Reed isn't married. He doesn't fuck women."

  "Just everything but."

  "I don't know who he's fucking, and I don't want to know."

  Leo stood. "Why not buy this place from him if you want to stay here? Pack his things and tell him to leave."

  "He'd probably give it to me if I asked," he said, his head down.

  "Then why don't you--"

  "Because, goddamn it..." Leo turned around. "I'm in love with him. I have been since the first time I laid eyes on him, and I can't stop. It's like an addiction. He's an addiction."

  "What's it going to take for you to kick it?"

  Mark shook his head. "My last breath."

  Leo felt that in his gut. Pain. He felt Mark's pain and he moved to him quickly and pulled him into his arms. "Oh, Mark," he said softly, kissing his hair. "If I could take away all the pain the man has caused you, I would."

  Mark hugged him tight for a moment. "I know," he said, then released him. There were tears in his eyes. He blinked them away. "So much for not going there."

  Leo wiped his own eyes. "I'm sorry. My curiosity got the better of me. I'm sorry for the way I feel about Reed, but you understand why, don't you?"

  He nodded. "Yes, but don't. And you have to promise me that if Reed does show up here, you'll be nice to him."

  "Will I have a choice? It's his house."

  Mark nodded. "Yes, it is."

  "Okay, I'll be nice, but don't ask me to kiss his ass, okay?"

  Mark grinned. "I'd never do that. That's my job."

  * * * *

  Leo slept like a baby that night. With the fresh air and extreme quiet he slept ten hours straight. Mark told him that he was probably suffering from jet lag. The next day, he lazed around with Mark. They watched movies and took walks around the water.