Never Enough

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Never Enough Page 3

by Alexandra Caluen


  Most of them.” If that was his defining moment as a film actor, Andy was glad most people hadn’t seen it. The movie was doing respectable business in a few U.S. theaters, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that got a wide domestic release. They all expected it to earn out its modest purchase price overseas.

  Dana remembered a role that had given her anxiety. And she knew acting wasn’t Andy’s first love. It wasn’t in the top five. The fact that he’d uncovered a previously unsuspected talent was irrelevant. So she didn’t say anything about the possibility - the likelihood - that the film would become a cult classic. “If you don’t want to do it, then don’t do it. You don’t need to do it. And I know you still think you shouldn’t compete with Victor.”

  “He doesn’t care. Or he says he doesn’t. But he’s Latino like me, and he’s gay like me, and those are disabilities in this business, you know they are. He’s basically the one gay Latino movie star, like, ever. I do not need to be out there in his way.” Andy was saying more than he meant to. He shook himself, irritated, knowing Dana would get that he wasn’t irritated with her.

  “He’s more famous from that straight role in the ‘Countdown’ things than he ever would have been for ‘Vice.’”

  “So you’re going to keep protecting his ego?” Dana was skeptical, and let it show. “Victor is tough. And speaking of ego, I don’t think he would really appreciate knowing you’re deliberately closing doors to do that. To protect him.”

  “But that’s not why I’m doing it.” For once there was next to no humor in Andy’s voice. “It really isn’t. Being a screen actor, I don’t like it. I don’t like the process. I don’t like how what I do can get completely turned around or fucked over after the fact, before anyone else ever sees it.” Dana couldn’t help making a sound of agreement to that. “I don’t like the distance from the audience. I don’t like how it takes months or fucking years to know whether what you’ve done even has an audience. I like working on stage. Victor likes working on film.” He had to check himself. “Okay, he likes the stage too. But he’s got a real film career ahead of him, and he knows it, and he likes that.”

  Dana finally swung her legs off the lounger so she could lean forward, get her hands on his, and look straight at him. “Andy. It’s good you’re saying this shit. But you need to say it to Victor.” He didn’t say anything. She thought, with a combination of exasperation and sympathy, sometimes you are such a GUY. “Did you not tell him you told Raquel not to send you anything? And that she didn’t drop you as a client in spite of swearing at

  you?” That was a guess, but she could see in his face that she’d guessed right.

  “No. You’re right. I will. I want to do my own fucking stuff for a while, and if that means doing a one-man show of ‘42nd Street’ here in the backyard then that’s what I’m going to fucking do.”

  “That’s the spirit.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “And now I should probably go. Because if I stay, I’ll have another drink, and then it’ll be dinnertime, and Rory will come over, and the next thing you know Vicky and Sharon will be out here, and Victor will get home and think what is the deal with all these women.”

  “That all sounds great, actually,” Andy said, smiling. “I’ll text mine if you’ll text yours.”

  Victor picked up the text during a break while the crew was re-setting for another take. He didn’t at all mind the idea of coming home to five of his best friends, and sent back a reply saying so. Then he spared a moment to consider how before Andy, he barely even had five friends – friends who truly knew him, friends he could say anything to – and appreciated that little miracle all over again. He still didn’t know how he could have done things differently, aside from the mess he made of his first night with Andy. Being forgiven for that was another miracle.

  On the way home, Victor had the usual excessive amount of email to get through. Email from their business manager, from his agent, from their accountant, from their lawyer. Then it was on to the texts. There was a message from his personal shopper Carina, telling him the things he wanted for their upcoming tour were all being delivered the next day. The message from his friend Tanith made him laugh. He sent back a reply: Hi Tanith yes we’re both loco. Did Andy warn you what we’re doing in Berlin?

  She must have been home from work, or else hanging out at her job waiting for the worst of the getting-out traffic to thin out. A reply came back immediately: NO he did not should I be worried?

  I think you’ll like it when you see it

  No hints?

  Nope

  @%#$!

  LOL. The promoter said the local people all said something that we are

  told means ‘that’s fine.’ We’re doing Por Una Cabeza for our first number.

  We tweaked the Q&A a little to puff up the rest of the cast You’re a good team player Victor

  Hey it wasn’t a two-person piece. How’s things with the Mouse, you still planning to keep on there?

  Eh for some reason it’s a lot easier to take with that kind of money in the bank. Also I’m teaching again this semester and don’t have an immediate new project so why not hang out for a while Well when you get a new project rolling, let us know Duh

  LOL say hi to Lieutenant Cutie and that alley cat for us Will do. Abrazos

  Y Besos. Victor had one more text to send, to another friend from way back: Hey Valerie I spoke to Tomás and he’s like WTF a year ago I had one job and now I have four. When do you go into the studio with him and Janis for that album?

  Apparently Valerie was done for the day too. She wrote back: March.

  Janis is all now now now but you know how she is. They’re working up thirteen arrangements for two pianos and cello, it’s going to take all the time they can give it. Don’t worry, Tomás will be with you and the gang in Buenos Aires

  Yeah he said so. He’s bringing his wife and their boy to meet his mother Nice family party

  It’s going to be great. Can’t wait to hear this thing when you get it done Me either, I think it’s going to be something special. You and Andy take care and have fun on tour!

  Thanks chica. Say hi to Russell for us

  Will do.

  Victor put the phone away. They were almost home. He wondered if a day would ever come when getting home to Andy didn’t feel like a total blessing. “Hey guys.” His security escort Stan and driver Jamil made inquiring sounds. “Have I thanked you lately?” They had almost certainly saved his life back in September, and probably Andy’s too.

  “Only every day, Mr. Garcia.”

  They were never going to call him Victor. They might have heard him rolling his eyes; there were snickers from the front seats. “I’m going to miss you when I’m off this show.”

  “We’ll miss you too, Mr. Garcia.”

  Chapter 2

  January 2019

  It was the next morning before Dana saw a late-night text from Andy: So I told V about Raquel and said I really don’t want to do anything else on film unless it’s a Tanith project or a thing with him because it’s boring as fuck and basically I hate it. He was like okay baby whatever you want but he looked satisfied. Then I said you know it could be some kind of porno with you and he said well let’s start blocking some scenes Dana laughed for a minute, then showed the text to Rory. They worked on a reply together. The final version read: If you wrote that after blocking some scenes please do not write any more about the scenes because hearing it is bad enough we would have to bleach our eyeballs. Feeling better?

  An answer pinged in about fifteen minutes later: Much better except totally forgot I was called today the car was outside at oh god o’clock and now I’m on the soundstage half asleep and fully pissed off DAMMIT I HAD

  PLANS

  Yeah we don’t want to hear about those plans either Bahaha thanks for yesterday that was awesome Yes it was OXO don’t forget to ping your Berlin people about video!

  Doing that right now. See you soon OXO

  Berlin was the first stop
on their tour, which was one reason they’d thought of doing ‘Mein Herr.’ Once they were really out there, they wouldn’t have time or space to rehearse a number like that. The week the tour officially started, when they still had a day of shooting on ‘Vice’ to do, Andy and Victor were up in the home studio running the routine. Or they had been.

  Now Victor was leaning on the wall outside the bathroom, mopping his face with a hand towel, still giggling. “This is the best thing ever.”

  Andy had a leg up on the barre, stretching, leaning over with his ribs to his thigh and smiling at Victor. “You and your fishnets fetish.”

  “If Berlin doesn’t burn to the ground when you step on stage like that, it’s only because it’s January.” Andy laughed. The costume was pretty darned effective if he did say so himself: shorts, halter top, garter belt and stockings, high heels and bowler hat like Liza Minnelli’s. They’d already done a

  makeup test and he knew he could put it together in the few minutes they’d have after their first number at the Berlin premiere screening. Meanwhile, he was still in costume because he knew how much Victor liked it. If there were anything resembling a bed in this studio, that guy would be all over him right now. He changed his angle to stretch the front of his hip. That meant turning his back to his husband, leg still up on the barre but now extended behind him. He heard Victor make a ‘yum’ sound and smiled to himself. “You’re teasing me,” Victor said. Andy glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “I’ve got plans for you when we get off that stage.”

  “Why not now?”

  “Because our last call day is tomorrow, there’s going to be a ton of shit to do, they’re bound to keep us there late, we have to leave the next day, and you’re gonna need a couple days to recover.” Victor’s voice had a husky quality that sent Andy right back to their first night. He lifted his leg off the barre and set his foot down, adjusting himself. Another glance over his shoulder, making eye contact, holding it as he turned around to rest both hands behind him on the barre. Knees together, feet beveled in those high heels, making his legs look as long as they possibly could. “Jesus, Andy.

  You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

  “I know what you want to do. You want to fuck me like a cabaret girl.”

  “Goddamned right I do.” Victor walked over, taking his time, towel draped over his shoulder. He stopped less than arm’s length away from his husband. Head tipped back to keep that eye contact, because Andy in those heels was six inches taller than he was. He wanted Andy’s hand on his throat, on his cock. But first he wanted to see him come. He said so, and Andy’s whole body reacted. “You’re going to be on your back with those legs in the air and I’m going to fuck you so hard they’ll hear us in the street outside.”

  “God almighty, Victor.” Andy was gripping the barre tightly, because his knees were a little weak. “I thought I was the one teasing you.”

  “You are.” Victor moved in, put his mouth on the base of Andy’s throat where the necklace tattoo converged on the letter V. He ran his fingers up the inside of Andy’s thighs and heard his breath go out. “Maybe you should get another tattoo. Maybe you should have a whole line of these.” He unbuttoned the halter top, drew a fingertip from the V to Andy’s waist. Unbuttoned the waistband of the shorts, unzipped them, pushed them down. Put his hand on Andy, where his erection strained against the dance belt. Then unhooked the

  garters and used both hands – it took both hands – to peel the dance belt off.

  Andy stepped out of the shorts and the belt. Victor stood back enough to see him. The halter top hung open. The garter belt, stockings and shoes had him lightheaded. “Don’t you move,” he warned, and stepped back. He knew there was a camera in here, they’d taped the first run-through today. Andy stood obediently waiting, still gripping the barre, completely aroused. Victor found the camera, sitting on the counter of the kitchenette. He woke it up and said,

  “I could make a million dollars from this picture.” Andy huffed out a laugh.

  Victor took some pictures. Then he set the camera on the desk, positioning it with care, and crossed the room again. “I can’t decide,” he said. “Hand or mouth.”

  “Jesus.”

  “If I use my hand, I can kiss you.” Decision made, he stepped in, took Andy in his hand, and invited that kiss. Andy didn’t hesitate. Victor lost track of time. The kiss was so perfect he lost some concentration, too. But Andy was moving against his hand, he was vocalizing into Victor’s mouth. Victor dragged himself back to consciousness. “In my mouth.” He went to one knee, one hand on the barre beside Andy’s for balance, because Andy was really too tall for this at the moment, but it wasn’t going to take any time at all.

  Now that cock was in his mouth and Andy’s body jerked.

  “Oh God, Victor, fucking hell, goddammit.” He was trying to hold on, trying to make it last a little longer because it felt so good and it looked so good. But it was no use. Victor did something with his tongue and Andy lost it. When he opened his eyes, catching his breath, Victor still had him. Andy looked down and watched as his husband slowly, lingeringly released him.

  Swallowing, catching the aftershock, smiling. He pulled himself to his feet, body tight against Andy’s. Andy kissed him again, tasting himself. Finally took one hand off the barre and put it on Victor. “You’re not done yet.”

  “I’m never done with you.”

  “What do you want, baby. You want some of that? My mouth?” Andy’s voice was low. His lips brushed Victor’s face.

  “I can’t decide. You decide.”

  Andy glanced over at the camera, a reflex. Now that he wasn’t half out of his mind, he realized the red recording light was on. He almost laughed, and made up his mind what to do. He unbuttoned and unzipped Victor’s pants, got a hand in there, heard the quick intake of breath. “Turn around,

  catnip.” Victor did, leaning back against Andy’s chest. Andy kept that hand on him, knowing they were angled just right for the camera. He stroked slowly, making the most of it. He had a feeling they’d both be watching this from time to time. It was going to be so decadent. His naked flank and hip behind almost-fully-clothed Victor, a long fishnet-covered leg, and that glorious handful. He couldn’t wait to see it. “Now I know why you went commando today.”

  Victor laughed breathlessly. “When we came up here this wasn’t the plan.”

  “Oh no?” Andy kissed him. “You knew I’d be in costume. Showing you my legs.” One more kiss. “Teasing you.” His other hand was on Victor’s throat now. He never wondered why Victor liked this so much. It was the one overtly dominant thing Andy did, a thing he’d done on that first night without asking if it was okay. Victor had been startled, almost resistant. And then he’d surrendered. It’s no wonder I never got over him. Andy stroked down and up, cupping his jaw, turning his face for another kiss. “You and your perfect mouth. Your perfect cock. Wait till you see this. The whole world should see this. Oh, faster? You want it faster? You want to fuck my hand.

  Go, baby. Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Andy kissed him again, drinking in Victor’s muffled, urgent sound, and then it was over. He was gasping against Andy’s face. “I love you.”

  Victor’s eyes were still closed. He smiled. “I love you too.”

  Andy made sure Victor had his balance, then pulled the towel off his shoulder. “This was good planning.” He wiped his hand. “What are you going to do with that recording?” Victor giggled. “Take it on location with you in May?” Victor laughed out loud. Andy started to giggle too. “Filthy motherfucker.”

  “I’ll leave you a copy.”

  “Damn right you will.”

  They both agreed, later, that the two days in between Berlin and Stockholm were very much called-for. The travel time of course was negligible. Being able to sleep late had been a blessing. “I didn’t need both days to recover,” Andy pointed out, while they were getting dressed for the night’s event. “You did such a good job warming me up.”

  “I didn’t last
as long as I wanted. Every time I caught a glimpse of one of

  those goddamned legs I was like, oh Lord.” Andy laughed. “If there had been a mirror over the headboard you would hardly have even known I was there.”

  Andy cracked up. Victor pulled a comb through his sleek black hair, smiling at his husband in the mirror. “I don’t think anybody’s going to see that video and not know what I wanted to do to you.”

  “Yeah, probably not.” Andy stood back from the mirror, checked out the hair one more time. “This goddamned cowlick.”

  “I always loved that. The way your hair wants to break out and do its own thing.”

  “Easy for you to say. Yours stays where you want it. Eh. I’m starting to almost like the gray.”

  “I love it. I love everything about you.” The escort was going to be there any minute, so Victor didn’t do what he wanted to do. Instead he patted Andy’s ass and said, “Watch out. Hair spray happening.”

  That night’s post-screening performance featured the two numbers they’d be doing for most of the tour. And that night’s venue didn’t have a stage, so they did the dances on the auditorium floor. It ramped up from the first row of seats, with a wide but fairly shallow flat area right in front of the screen. “Jesus, good thing we’ve done this before,” Victor said as they began.

  They had to tweak things, moving back and forth along that flat area to avoid the ramp. There were a couple of close calls. “Shit! Thanks honey.” The projection-booth light was shining, casting their shadows on the screen behind them. The audience was a sea of smartphones, taking pictures and video all the way through. One person in the front row had a phone in her hand, but wasn’t using it. She was watching as if she’d lived all her life to see this. “Do we know who that is?” Victor said quietly to Andy halfway through their second number.

  “I don’t think so.” A few more bars. “She didn’t say anything during the Q&A.” They had some tricks at the end of ‘La Cumparsita,’ so Andy focused in. After they hit their closing position, holding it for a few seconds before taking their bows, he saw that the person of interest was on her feet applauding. She showed no sign of being in a hurry to leave the auditorium.

 

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