a nipple now.
“Jesus.”
“Mmm.” Victor couldn’t make a word. Andy was lying completely still beneath him, except for that rapid breath. Victor wondered if they would both come from this. It was an experiment. He worked each finger as if it were something else, from palm to fingertip. Andy was breathing through his mouth, each exhalation slightly vocal. Victor’s mouth still working on his chest, licking, sucking, biting till Andy made a desperate sound. He pushed up with his hips and pulled Victor’s hands higher on the bed, stretching them up over his head, forcing him flat with his face against Andy’s. Pressed together, it was too much. Victor moved. Uncontrollable, hard, thrusting against Andy as if he were inside. Victor flung his head back, his whole body arched. As he felt them both come he uttered something between a curse and a prayer. Whatever it was, it was as loud as whatever Andy was saying.
“Holy fucking Christ,” Andy said faintly, a minute or two later. Victor was lying motionless, still pinioned. Andy let go of his wrists. They were somewhat glued together.
“Mmm.”
“That was a thousand-dollar massage right there.” Victor laughed silently. “Is the camera running?”
“Mmm.”
“Good. I want to see that.”
“Me too.” Victor peeled himself off. It took him two tries to get on his feet and over to the camera to shut it down. “How much do you think a porn site would give us for this masterpiece?” Andy laughed. “Maybe we could buy that shitty building on the other side of ours, and tear it down.”
“Stop. We haven’t even finished the triplex.” Andy sighed, stretching contentedly. “Shower before pool, or go down there like this?”
“Oh, honey, I think we need to shower.” Victor leaned over to lick Andy’s flat belly. He’d meant it as a joke, but after a minute he set his hands down and said, amazed all over again, “Or I could clean you off this way.”
“Wow, you are really degenerate today.” Andy lifted his head to watch, then propped himself on his elbows. “And oh my God, I really am a nympho.
Turn that camera back on.” One more swipe of his tongue, then Victor did.
“On your front, catnip. My turn to give you a massage.”
They didn’t make it down to the pool until sunset. Dinner was delivered out there. Victor watched Andy eat, smiling. “It’s unbelievable.”
“I know.” Andy set down his fork and leaned back. As usual, he’d put away half again as much food as Victor. “It’s probably offensive.”
“No way, not when I know exactly how you’re burning it all off.” Andy laughed. Victor drank some cold white wine, squinting up at the sky. “God, what a great day. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Think we can have a day like this here and there while you’re on location?”
“I should have had it written into the contract.” Victor put his head back and closed his eyes. So tired, he thought, so happy. Something he’d been thinking about since September finally crystallized. His agent had been sending him things; there were half a dozen potentials. None of them looked better than this. “Once that thing is done, I’m taking a vacation. Like, no jobs.
The new movie start date is looking like July of next year.” It was going to be a romantic thriller, very different from the ‘Countdown’ series of action comedies.
Andy stared at his husband. He was admiring the perfect profile and the eyelashes, but also wondering if he’d understood correctly. Victor had taken breaks before, since they’d been together, but not long ones. Their summer trip four years ago had been the longest. Since then it had been a full schedule, never more than a month off at a stretch in between the months of TV or movie filming. Even those months had been interrupted with promotion, or fill-in work, or other business. Most recently, of course, with recuperation from a near-fatal bullet wound. All those sixty-and seventy-hour weeks. Andy always had his own projects, but always wished they could have more time together. He’d found Victor after so many years alone. “The whole time? This August to next July?” He knew his voice must be communicating deliriously happy disbelief. He wasn’t trying to mask it.
Victor opened his eyes and gazed back at Andy. “Think you can turn me into a real song and dance man with that much time?”
“Oh honey, it won’t take that much time. Oh my God.” Andy blinked, sniffed, swallowed. Nearly lost it when Victor set his hand on Andy’s wrist, stroking up his forearm and back down to his hand. Their hands gripped hard for a few seconds, then relaxed. Victor didn’t let go, though.
The next morning Victor came out of the bathroom, rubbing lotion on his freshly-shaven face, to find Andy sitting cross-legged on the bed with the laptop open in front of him. “You’re not supposed to be working right now.
It’s wine-tasting day.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’m not missing that.” They had a car coming to take them to an airstrip, where a private plane would fly them to Hunter Valley.
“Look at this crazy shit that Red and Niall did.” He turned the laptop around after tapping something.
Victor watched the video. It was a swordfight with dialogue, outdoors with the ocean behind them. “I’ll be damned. Macbeth and Macduff.” Their friend Red was a hunktastic action star with a long history as a weapons expert. Niall more than held his own with a broadsword. “You’re going to grab some of that for your show, I suppose.”
“Have to. Fucking have to! And now I want Red as Macduff solo and Mary as Lady Macduff, but in my version she doesn’t die because give that bitch a sword.” Victor laughed. Red’s wife could definitely handle a sword.
“You know it’s the one Shakespeare play I’ve actually seen live on stage. I would like it so much better if she gets away with their boy. Shows up at the end when Macduff is busy handing Scotland to the other guy and thinks his life is over. Tweak the Lady’s scene. It wouldn’t even need any new dialogue, really.”
Victor agreed. “Just a big, cathartic kiss. Though I’m sure Tanith would jump on writing it. Man, the audience would feel like all that angst was worth it, wouldn’t they?” Andy made a sound of agreement. “You could get Theo to play the boy.”
“Jesus, he’d be perfect.” They already had tenants lined up for the triplex they were renovating. One couple had a mixed-race boy, seven and a half years old and bright. Andy could have gone straight into brainstorming mode, but they had time for that later. So much time, he thought, stunned all over again. He closed the laptop, stood up, kissed Victor, and said, “We’ll watch that again later. It’s kind of inspiring.”
“Seems like everything is inspiring lately.”
“You have a point. Well, you know they say use it or lose it. At this rate, we’ll never lose it.” Victor was laughing. Andy patted his ass. “Let me get my pants on and we’ll go get drunk.”
Chapter 4
February 2019
Before they left Australia, Victor spent some time composing an email to his agent about his plan for an extended break. Then he and Andy both got on the phone with their friend Rory to tell her they wanted to do things with the Underground Cabaret. “Okay,” she said casually. Then, “How many things, all the things? Both of you? Are you not out of town? What’s going on, are you okay?”
Andy made a ‘what the fuck’ face at Victor, who stifled a laugh. “Honey, we’re fine. We’re both fine. But we’re tired, and Victor’s going into that movie shoot, and then he’s got another one starting next summer.”
“I was like, fuck it,” Victor contributed, and heard a sound of agreement from Rory. They were on speaker, not FaceTime, but he could imagine her face. She’d been bitching at Andy for years about overdoing things, and at Victor ever since the shooting. Plus, of course, she knew what was going on with Andy now. “We don’t need the money. I don’t want to cram another big job in there. And if I’m doing smaller things I want to do them with Andy, that’s all.”
“Okay. Okay.” A pause while Rory collected herself. “So I’m ass
uming the ‘Milonga’ show in September.”
“Right,” Andy and Victor said together. Andy added, “And we want to do a thing for ‘Spy Games.’ Mr. & Mrs. Smith. We wanted to do it way back at the ‘Assassins’ show but then fucking ‘Vice’ pulled Victor out of town.”
“Those fuckers,” Rory agreed. “What do you want for ‘Milonga?’
Because I’ll put you down now and if anyone wanders in with the same song I’ll tell them to try again.”
Victor giggled while Andy said, “Love is Blindness. The Jack White track that Ricky and Anya used for their apache. It will not be an apache.”
“Jesus, I hope not. I mean after seeing what you guys did with ‘Mano a Mano’ I think people would be calling 911 if you did an apache.” They’d done a fight number in Tanith’s movie that people talked about everywhere they went.
“Yeah, no. Ricky has fifty-plus pounds on Anya. My physical therapist would order a hit if I tried to do that shit with Victor.”
“Do not do that shit. Anyway cool, so much cool, all the cool. What about next year?”
“Well, Dana told you about this Broadway idea, right?”
“Yeah. Is that for real?” Excited all over again.
Victor said, “Andy’s going to put me through chorus boy boot camp.”
Rory laughed. “We were thinking maybe April. If we could get Chrome the week before Alison’s showcase.”
“Oh, if you could get Chrome.” Rory’s voice was full of sarcasm.
“Would Tyrone and Terry find a date for you guys? Hmm, what do I think, I think hellz the fuck yeah. Whenever you want, basically. They’ll have to price the tickets like one of those Virgin space flights or people will tear the fucking place down trying to get in.” Andy and Victor both laughed. “Come to think of it, there’s going to be a scalping situation if we advance-press your other things. Do you want to keep those on the down-low?”
Andy and Victor stared at each other for a second. Victor said, “Yeah.
Keep us off the official cast list. We’re doing this for fun, not to be pulling focus.”
“We could put us on the table talkers and tease it without our names, like
‘special guests,’ on the main poster,” Andy said. “The one at the club for the show nights. That way it’ll be people who were going to come to the show anyway. You know you always sell out with ‘Milonga.’”
“Okay. With you we already have six confirmed for ‘Spy Games’ too.
What the fucking fuck, it’s not till November, people are way ahead of this thing.”
“Are a bunch of people using James Bond music?” Victor was grinning.
“Oh yeah. When the theme went up Vince had a full-on bitchfest because there was something he immediately wanted to do with Kelli, but he and Michelle are going to Ohio for the championship that month. The dates are only a week apart, there’s no way. So Dmitri’s going to dance with Kelli again.” Rory sounded pleased about that. All of the Cabaret people were pleased when Dmitri participated. He was pretty much everybody’s surrogate father.
“Great. Okay. Well,” Andy glanced at Victor again; it seemed they had the main points communicated. “We’re on our way back to L.A. tomorrow.
First twenty-four hours home will be recuperating from that bitch of a flight,
and groveling to Molly.”
“Molly’s fine. She’s been over here with me and the pack a lot.”
“I know. You’re the best. We’ll get together for dinner soon, okay?”
“You bet. I’ll tell Dana about the plan, she’s going to be psyched. Love you guys.”
“Love you too.” They all got off the phone. Andy set it aside, stretched, and threw a leg over Victor’s. “It’s too bad I can’t do a show of stills from our porn tour.” Victor laughed. “The world deserves to see you naked.”
“You too.”
“And legit post-coital.” Victor waved a hand like ‘stop.’ Andy did not stop. “Hey, maybe you should check with the producers of next year’s movie, find out if the accidental publication of X-rated photographs would void your contract.” Victor was giggling. Andy was grinning up at the ceiling. If they hadn’t both been utterly exhausted, he would have suggested turning the camera on again. Since they were, and it was three in the morning their time, he reached over and switched off the lamp.
They did their best to sleep on the flight. In between catnaps, they talked quietly about the tour experience. Not the porn tour, but the tango tour. All the screenings, performances, and after-parties had gone off without a hitch.
They’d had good transport and interpreters, acceptable hotels, and excellent security. They’d emailed with their counselor during the trip, confirming that they felt safe. “So how are you feeling about being home, catnip,” Andy said about seven hours into the flight. “It seems like I’ve had more rage issues than you.”
You’ve got an extra trigger now. “And you always have more insomnia than me. Monkey brain.”
“Yeah, whatever. But seriously. No anxiety? Are you sure you want to do without a car team?” They’d had a driver and a security escort for years.
“The drama’s dropped off a lot since last fall.” It was as if the real violence had re-educated people who’d thought sending death threats wasn’t actual terrorism. “We’ve got the on-site guy. We’ve got the surveillance.
Let’s try it this way for a while.” Victor regarded Andy. He couldn’t exactly say why he wasn’t as angry as his husband. “I’ve had my moments,” he said.
“I mostly work it out in the gym. Maybe because it wasn’t the first time. I
was closer to dead in Mazatlán than I was last fall.” The knife attack, when he was a teenager.
“Ugh.” They gazed at each other. Andy knew that Victor’s rage about that long-ago event had more to do with grief for his boyfriend, left dead outside a gay club, than with his own injuries. That thought led him to, “And you’re mostly mad because that guy last fall was trying to kill me.”
“Exactly. I’m not happy I got shot, it wasn’t fun, but he didn’t kill me.
And even more importantly he didn’t kill you.” Andy made a sound of disagreement. Victor knew they would never quite mesh on this. “I love you.”
“I know you do. I love you too.” Andy took Victor’s hand and kissed it.
“If we get sick of driving again, though, I’m totally down with a car service.
Maybe we could bribe Stan and Jamil to ditch the studio team and come work for us.” Victor laughed. “So how do you like this ring.” He’d chosen one in Australia, thinking it would be a great reminder of this fantastic trip.
“I fucking love it. That dreamtime inlay. Never take it off.” Andy was laughing under his breath. “I like this thing, too.” Victor wrapped his hand around the new cuff: a broad, supple braid made of many strands of thin crocodile-leather cord. It was held flat with metal clamps and closed with a pair of fold-over latches. “Should I guess why you got gray?”
Andy gave him a look. He’d stopped coloring his hair a year ago, when they were preparing for Tanith’s movie. It was now about twenty percent gray. His body hair wasn’t there yet, but he could tell the day was coming.
“You can guess but I’d thank you not to say it out loud.” Victor snickered.
“Yeah, you can laugh in ten years when we see what’s happening with your hair.”
March 2019
“Un-fucking-believable,” Andy said, when Victor asked about the Tempest photo shoot. “They’re going to be down here in a minute. Or thirty, or however long it takes them to bang. Probably not that long.” Victor laughed. “I thought they were going to lose it before lunch.” Andy was giggling now too.
“Yeah, from your text, I figured things were getting steamy.”
“That Geoffrey. I’ll show you the pictures. Like, here’s Niall’s face
before Geoffrey did whatever he did, and here’s his face after. That poor guy.
He’s trying to b
e a good subject, and I’ve got them right up against each other, and all they’re really wearing is dance belts. Then here’s Geoffrey with his hot little ass and oh my God.” Andy laughed.
“I don’t know why you say little, he’s taller than me.”
“Yeah, I don’t know either. Fairly sure he weighs more than I do.
Serious athlete, really, but he’s so pretty.”
“Shut up.” Victor wasn’t jealous. He was used to Andy being complimentary about other men, and they were always surrounded by good-looking men. If he’d ever thought Andy was seriously tempted, it would be different. He knew his husband never wanted anyone but him. “So you’re happy with the work?”
“The work was great. They were in it. Took direction well, gorgeous to look at, the makeup was perfect, the costume pieces were terrific, and that throne of Red’s really sells it. I wish there were some way to use that for other things in the series.”
“It’s definitely going to be a series, huh.”
“Has to be. I don’t know that I ever would have thought of doing something text-based like this, but you know how fast you were throwing me things in Asia. I’ll bet we can cast the whole thing in about an hour, once we’ve read the plays and figured out what characters I should do. I know you said Rory and Dana are going to pick their own.” Andy leaned against the kitchen counter, smiling at Victor. Dinner was waiting in the oven, wine was breathing, and once he got rid of the two Englishmen he thought they might play a scene of their own. It probably wouldn’t be anything from Shakespeare.
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