by Jerry Cole
“You don’t have to call me anything as long as you’re mine. Just mine, Sparkle Jones.”
Chapter Five
Sparkle woke up with the sun streaming in through the enormous windows. Alone.
“Figures,” he mumbled to himself.
What the hell was he thinking? “I want you to be mine.” Who says that? What does that even mean?
“This is what happens when you drink expensive wine in the middle of the day,” Sparkle whined, as he tried to convince himself to sit up.
Whatever else Simon may be, he was one hell of a lover. Sparkle wasn’t sure that could be called “loving”. It was more like the sexual equivalent of a full-scale invasion. Every inch of his body felt brutalized. He could only imagine what he looked like and seriously thought about canceling his photo shoot; reputation be damned.
Sitting up gingerly in the massive bed, Sparkle spied himself in the mirror across the room. Excusing the wildness of his shoulder-length tresses and a few teeth marks on his left pectoral, he looked fine. He looked better than fine; he was glowing.
The sound of the front door closing put him on high alert, and Sparkle wondered how much of a defense he would be able to put up in his current condition. He was praying that it wouldn’t be a jealous ex or a clueless wife. It wouldn’t be the first time Sparkle woke up to find himself in a tight spot with a violent, jilted spouse.
“You’re up?” The surprise on Simon’s face was undeniably genuine.
“Well, aren’t we positively radioactive today?” Sparkle grumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and instantly regretting it. “You were a little much last night, don’t you think?”
“Sorry about that. You’re so hot; I couldn’t help myself,” Simon chuckled, pulling his shirt off.
Sparkle snorted and looked at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. If he hustled, he had enough time to shower and get across town in time for his session. He would just have to wear the same clothes he wore yesterday. A major fashion faux pas, but what other options did he have?
“I bought you some fresh underwear and a few things. I don’t want you walking around looking like you spent the night in a telephone booth,” Simon said, tossing a shopping bag at Sparkle.
Sparkle was instantly impressed by the label but skeptical about Simon’s fashion sense. So far, the only clothes he had seen him wear were basics, meant to be staples in any wardrobe. The colors, cuts and fabrics were all classics and looked great on Simon’s tall, muscular frame, but Sparkle’s taste ran a bit more on the trendy and daring side, with a fair number of women’s ready-to-wear sprinkled throughout for good measure. They always made ladies’ apparel in such yummy colors.
“Everything should fit,” Simon said, taking a seat across from the bed and watching as Sparkle stood up and let the sheets fall away from his body. There was no part of him that Simon hadn’t seen already, besides which, he was too sore to chase the descending fabric and yank it around his body to guard his modesty.
“I need to shower, and then I’ll be out of your hair,” Sparkle said quietly, setting the bag down and pushing his hair out of his face.
“You are not in my hair. You’re in my care, or did you forget our agreement last night?”
Sparkle’s jaw dropped.
“You were serious with all of that?”
“I never joke when it comes to money and sex. Speaking of which, I’ll make an appointment for you with my doctor. I’m not sure if I’ll always be able to take precautions in the heat of the moment. It’s better if we both get tested regularly.”
“What?”
“You’re something special. I have never b-”
“You were serious, weren’t you? I mean, I thought it was sexy at the time, but I didn’t think you meant it,” Sparkle interrupted, plopping back down onto the mattress. Simon’s eyes became hard and flat as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and assessed Sparkle.
“You want out?”
“I want…I don’t know,” Sparkle said, all of his usual bluster gone.
“I’m a grown man. I know what I want. I want you here as often as I can have you. I want to see you wearing nice things, and then I want to see those things crumpled in a corner while I fuck you. I want to know that, when I call, you’ll come running. In exchange, I’m prepared to get you accustomed to whatever kind of lifestyle you want,” Simon said calmly, rationally.
“As long as you’re the only man in my life, right? I get to play house here with you, the gifts, trips, everything anybody could ever ask for, as long as you get to run the show,” Sparkle elaborated.
“That is part of the deal. I need discretion on your part, Sparkle. I think you can appreciate that in your position.”
“Because you’re in the closet,” Sparkle said.
“Because when you mix business and pleasure, things get complicated.”
“So sex on demand in exchange for access to your wealth. That sounds a lot like prostitution.”
“Don’t be trite,” Simon huffed. “All human relationships are based on exchange.”
Sparkle thought of Jerrod’s ex-fiancé, off having the time of her life in a whirlwind romance with the man Jerrod introduced her to at a Christmas party. He thought of the shows that nearly closed when the leads, lovers in real-life, hit a rough patch in their relationships.
He looked at Simon’s expectant face and pursed his lips. What he said made sense. He wasn’t wrong, but something about it all didn’t feel right.
“Are you? In the closet, I mean. Because that’s a deal-breaker for me,” Sparkle asked.
“No. There are no closets anymore. I own a gay bathhouse, for Christ’s sake. But I’m not twenty either. I came up in a different time. Back then, being out and proud had huge consequences. Today, you can run to the courthouse and get married, but when I was a young man, men still watched their lovers die from outside the hospital room because the family didn’t want to acknowledge that their son was gay. We did things differently then.”
“And you still do, I guess,” Sparkle said, regaining his composure. “So we’re like friends with benefits. We meet up, have a good meal, amazing sex, and go our separate ways.”
“Maybe for now, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope you would see it differently over time.”
“How so?”
“I care for the things I consider my own. You would be no different if you decide to stay. I would care for you,” Simon stood up, pulling Sparkle into a warm embrace and stroking his hair gently. “I can’t promise you love and happily ever after. I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep. But what I have, what I am—I will share it with you if you decide to stay. Maybe not forever, but for as long as it still makes sense. That’s the deal.”
Sparkle tried not to hear the soft note in his voice. He tried to ignore the way Simon smelled good even after a night of sweaty sex or the soothing effect of his warm embrace. He tried for as long as he could. But in the end, Simon won. Or maybe Sparkle’s loneliness won. Either way, Sparkle knew he would stay, for a little while at least.
“I bought you an egg-white and spinach breakfast sandwich and ibuprofen for the pain,” Simon said, setting Sparkle away from his body as he spoke. “The bathroom is through there.”
Simon handed Sparkle a tube of ointment as he made his way towards the bathroom.
“What is this for?”
“The soreness,” Simon said, indicating Sparkle’s swollen asshole. Sparkle smiled as the thought registered.
“You really did think of everything. This might be worth my while after all,” Sparkle said with a saucy toss of his head. Too hurt to strut, he minced his way across the room and into the bathroom before shutting the door firmly behind him and biting his lip to stifle the scream of pain his dramatic exit cost him.
“No pain, no gain,” he whispered to himself, limping over to the bathtub and running the hot water. It was several minutes before he could admire his surroundings.
The bathroom was almost as large as his bedroom, with all the fixtures in white enamel and chrome, making the spacious lavatory feel cavernous. The deep claw-foot tub was the centerpiece of the room. Its British telephone shape, complete with a stopper and chain, was the epitome of vintage. A classic. Just like the man in the next room.
Sparkle found a box of bath salts in the medicine cabinet and added it to the bath, letting the hot water take the edge off of his battered body. Now that he was sober, he was looking at Simon with different eyes. He was charming and honest and sinfully sexy, but he was also ruthless and possessive.
Simon wasn’t the kind of man you just decide to leave. Their deal wasn’t even twelve hours old yet, and Simon had already managed to stack the cards in his favor. The longer Sparkle stuck around, the harder it would be to walk away.
Sparkle was accustomed to men he could twist around his finger. He wasn’t sure how he would fare against a man who wouldn’t bend to his will. But he was dying to find out.
***
By the time Sparkle arrived at the shoot, he was almost walking like a normal person again. Almost.
“I was overzealous last night. It won’t happen again,” Simon had promised. For his part, Sparkle wasn’t complaining, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Simon. The man was already cocky enough, and Sparkle had precious few weapons against the blue-eyed Lothario.
“You look all shiny and brand new,” Maze remarked, catching sight of Sparkle in his mirror. Sparkle did a little turn, letting Maze get the full effect of Simon’s taste in men’s fashion. The pants were batik-print harem pants in a warm ochre. The button-down tunic added structure to the overall look, and the accessories were a careful blend of cheap-beaded hemp strings and delicate silver rings.
With his hair swept up and away from his face in a messy bun, Sparkle looked like a cool art teacher.
“I have to be careful, I almost look like a grown up,” he said, taking a seat in one of the makeup chairs. Clean shaven and bare faced, he gave himself the once over in the mirror, smiling secretly at the glow on his nearly flawless skin.
“So, who is he?”
“He who?”
“Whoever it is that has you sitting at a funny angle and smiling at your reflection,” Maze insisted.
“Who says it’s a him?” Sparkle replied.
“It’s certainly not a her!”
“Maybe I had some good news last night and decided to celebrate. Maybe I slept wrong and wrenched my back this morning. Stop assuming that I need a man to make me happy!”
“Oh,” Maze said dismissively. “You can’t remember his name, can you? Don’t worry about it; we’ve all had nights like that.”
Sparkle was tempted to correct Maze’s misconception but thought better of it. Showing off was never a good idea. That was how you ended up walking in on your man and your understudy fucking like rabbits in your dressing room on opening night. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt. Besides, if discretion was the name of the game, Maze was the last person he should tell.
“Maybe it was the wine,” Sparkle said, smiling brighter than before.
“Yeah, well, next time, be sure to pick up a bottle for your old friend. My skin is hell.”
The hours slipped by as Sparkle immersed himself in work. There was a photoshoot, followed by a small interview, as part of the promos for the show. Then, a session with his voice coach and a rehearsal he was not at all sure he would survive. Despite the soreness that plagued him, Sparkle found it nearly impossible to wipe the smile off of his face all day long.
Chapter Six
Sparkle checked his phone for the fiftieth time since leaving the theater. As always, there was a flurry of invitations from co-workers for dinner and a drink, but Sparkle turned them down flat. He was not in the mood. The whole day passed, and there wasn’t one message from Simon. Not so much as a “thanks for last night” text. Bastard.
Sparkle was feeling bitchy as he slipped his shades into place and made his way into the evening. He remained silent all the way home, slamming the door behind himself as he walked into the spacious apartment. Sparkle stripped his clothes off his body angrily and sought out the worn pair of no-name sweats that he wore when he was alone. Washing his face angrily, Sparkle chastised himself for being disappointed.
“You are all grown up. You have thousands and thousands of fans. You don’t need this one guy,” Sparkle said, patting his face dry and applying an evening cream.
“But you wanted him,” he admitted to his reflection. It was painful to say those words. Sparkle silently appraised himself in the mirror. Every imperfection and tiny line was laid bare to his eyes, and it scared him, almost as much as the idea of wanting somebody who obviously didn’t want him. And while he could take the plunge and have cosmetic procedures to stave off the ravages of time and too many hard-drinking nights, there was simply nothing that he could do about rejection.
The sound of his doorbell pulled him out of his pity party and back into his royal funk.
“This better be a fucking emergency,” he declared, snatching the door open without bothering to check who it was.
“I wouldn’t call it an emergency,” said Simon, standing in the hall looking fresh as a daisy and handsome as a king. Sparkle was instantly self-conscious but held his ground.
“You have a lot of nerve turning up here, unannounced, after not so much as a text message all damned day!”
“I was busy. I figured you would be as well,” Simon answered, unaffected by Sparkle’s attitude.
“Too busy for a courtesy text? And how the hell did you make it up here, anyway? We need to get rid of the fools at the front desk,” Sparkle fired back.
“Courtesy text?”
Sparkle rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
“Yes, something like ‘thanks for the great sex last night, we should do it again sometime,’” Sparkle clarified. “And why are you here?”
“To collect you,” Simon said, as if it was the silliest question he had heard all day.
“And what if I don’t want to be ‘collected’?” Sparkle used air quotes to indicate his outrage.
“Then I’ll leave,” Simon turned to leave.
“I said what if? Fuck!” Sparkle cursed, walking back into his apartment and leaving the front door open.
“Is this what you wear to bed?” Simon’s voice was laced with laughter as he stepped inside the apartment. He looked around casually before closing the distance between himself and Sparkle.
“This is what I wear when I sleep alone,” Sparkle said, pouring himself a glass of water without bothering to offer one to Simon.
“You were planning to sleep alone?” Simon gave Sparkle a devious smile.
“Well, since some asshole kept me dangling all day, there was no time to find a suitable substitute,” Sparkle said, smiling back.
“You think you can find a substitute for me?” Simon snorted.
“Do you?” Sparkle replied, lifting his chin defiantly.
“No.”
Sparkle blinked rapidly and pursed his lips together. He wasn’t expecting that answer.
“I’m not a fool, Sparkle. There’s nobody else like you. I came to get you because I wanted you next to me tonight,” Simon said with a small, weary sigh.
Sparkle put his glass down and looked at the proud man standing in his living room. His jet black wavy hair was held in place, combed back away from his face and parted on the left. But his face showed signs of fatigue. The worries of the day showed in the slightly slumped way he stood.
“As long as you know better. Wait a minute, and I’ll get my things,” Sparkle said, turning away. Before he had a chance to take a step, Simon grasped him and pulled him into a tight back hug. He dipped his head and pressed his cheek to the side of Sparkle’s head, inhaling his smell and exhaling slowly.
“Do you need those things?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Simon said without letting go. Sparkle d
idn’t fight him. He understood the need for a hug after a long day.
“What happened?” Sparkle ventured after several minutes.
“I’m losing people. I don’t want to lose anybody else today,” Simon explained.
“Okay, but we aren’t exactly old friends, and I haven’t left,” Sparkle pointed out.
“I know,” Simon said, closing the discussion. Sparkle shrugged. As long as he knew. It was several more minutes before Simon loosened his grip and let Sparkle leave.
Sparkle didn’t bother to look back at the gorgeous banker, and instead, focused on gathering all his essentials and a set of clothes. He contemplated changing before he left, but he thought better of it, as he watched Simon shuffle his feet impatiently. Throwing a small arsenal of products and a simple black ensemble into his overnight bag, he joined the blue-eyed stunner in the living room.
“Ready,” Sparkle said, smiling as he bounced on his toes slightly.
“That makes one of us,” Simon said, his eyes searching Sparkle’s face as he spoke.
Sparkle led the way, turning off lights and locking the door behind them. He looked at the brass numbers nailed to the front door and sighed.
“You can always stay home if you want to,” Simon said from behind him.
“Do you want me to come?” Sparkle asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I want to go with you,” Sparkle said with a nod.
They boarded the elevator silently and rode down without speaking or touching. The night air assaulted them as they left Sparkle’s building and found Simon’s car. He walked around to the driver’s side, without bothering to open the door for Sparkle. Sparkle stood on the pavement; arms crossed over his chest, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. Simon unlocked the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Sliding into the car quickly. Sparkle didn’t budge.
Simon quickly realized they were in the middle of a standoff as he started the car and turned on the seat warmers.
“Are you getting in?” Simon called, rolling down the passenger side window.
“Are you going to open my door for me?” Sparkle cocked an eyebrow and looked down his nose at the man in the car.