Never Enough

by Alexandra Caluen

  “No. I don’t know if he’s going to be flattered or horrified.”

  “They got that portrait done,” Victor pointed out. “He is not a shy guy.

  He’ll probably be all, why couldn’t I be Prospero.” Andy laughed. “So when do I get to see you and Zach do this thing?”

  “Well, do you think the production will cut you loose for a minute so you can see us on stage? Alison offered us a slot in the May showcase.”

  “Or more accurately Alison begged you to do it.” Andy couldn’t hide the quick smile. Victor stood up, took the two steps over his husband, and leaned down for a kiss. “I will do my best to get here. I will shut down the production if I have to. But if that doesn’t work, can I see it before I go?”

  “Of course you can.” Andy gave his hand a tug. Victor sat beside him.

  “Come in while we’re running it tomorrow. We might have to do it twice,”

  he warned. “Zach has a guy crush on you.”

  “Maybe. He’s completely infatuated with you.”

  “Well of course he is. I’m the swan.” Victor leaned in to kiss that laughing mouth. What started as simple affection quickly turned to something else. The kiss got hot and deep. Andy wasn’t laughing anymore. They each had a hand in the other’s hair. Victor had his other hand braced on the back of the lounger. Andy’s other hand was high on the inside of his husband’s thigh.

  Victor moved his mouth to Andy’s neck. Andy took a breath. “God almighty, Victor. We’d better get inside before any of those contractors decide to ask us

  a question.”

  “What, you don’t want to do this out here?” Victor put his hand on Andy. If it hadn’t been broad daylight it would be inside the shorts already.

  “Yes, I do.” He really did. He wanted that hand, or that mouth, or whatever else Victor had in mind. “But if we’re going to put any porn on the internet I want to see it before it goes up.” He located his tee shirt and pulled it over his head. Victor collected their glasses and they went inside. Molly followed them in. “Jesus I’m glad Consuelo isn’t here today. It would be embarrassing to walk through like this.”

  Victor set the glasses in the sink, then locked the back door. “I wonder what it is about you,” he said, stepping close to Andy. Backing him against the counter. Leaning in to put his mouth on that neck, his hands on those hips, pressing his own close so they could both feel the mutual arousal. Flat against each other, the way they’d wanted to be outside. “How can everything about you be so perfect.” It wasn’t really a question. He knew the answer. Everything was perfect, because everything was Andy. He moved his mouth up and across, into another deep and hungry kiss.

  Andy wrapped one arm around Victor’s back and set the other hand on the side of his neck. He let his ring rasp against that chain and felt Victor shiver. He slid his other hand down, into those shorts, pulling Victor tight against him. “Are we doing this right here?” he murmured, low and silky.

  “Like this?” Victor moved against him as if they were naked. Andy wanted that. “Take off my shirt.” He lifted his hands, let Victor do that. “Take off those shorts.” He got out of his own at the same time. Now they were skin to skin, a full-body kiss. Andy had his hand on Victor’s neck again, metal against metal, and felt the reaction. It was irresistible. He went slowly to his knees, letting his mouth travel down that warm skin, listening to Victor’s choked breath and the non-word he produced when Andy’s mouth closed around him. The profane, desperate words that followed. God, I love you, Andy thought, eyes closed, savoring every second of the few minutes before Victor climaxed, one hand wound in Andy’s hair and the other grabbing for the edge of the counter.

  “Jesus!” Victor gasped for breath, looking down at his gorgeous husband. “Now you.” He put a hand down, Andy took it, and Victor pulled him up. He didn’t go down immediately. He took Andy in hand and kissed him again, working him nearly to climax before settling on his knees to finish

  the job. When it was over he stayed there on the floor, leaning his head against Andy’s thigh. Andy had a hand in his hair. It was a few minutes before Victor looked up and said, “Never enough.”

  Jesus, you’re beautiful. “All you have to do is kiss me.” They smiled at each other. “I’ll get the vodka if you get the juice.” They put their shorts back on and went out to clean up.

  May 2019

  Andy knew it was going to suck being home alone. It always did. But, as he told Dana, “It sucks extra hard now.”

  “Because you were all over each other for six solid weeks, and then it was still all-access here in L.A. for two months. What did you expect?” Her voice was sympathetic, but also a bit dry.

  Andy glared at the phone. “I expected it to suck! Just not so much.”

  “Well, you know you can always come over here. Or we can come over there.”

  “I’m mooching around the B side like a stray dog,” he admitted. “Every time they leave the front door open. I’m a mess. If this thing with Zach hadn’t come off, I’d be in Michigan already.”

  “It’s only a few more weeks. How’s the Swan Dive going, anyway?”

  “God, I love it. When the prince first made contact I thought, well he called my bluff, let’s see. Then Sergei said he’d come out to teach it to us, and I thought okay. Then Zach turns out to be strong like bull and a really good trainer, and boy does he want this to work.”

  “No ego problems?”

  “That guy barely even has an ego, as far as I can tell. He’s awesome. I kept thinking, those first couple days when Sergei was here, he’s going to crash. He’s going to hit the wall. He’s going to say what the fuck were you thinking, this is insanity. Instead he’s like, one more time.”

  Dana heard the admiration in his voice. “That’s what Rory said about dancing with him last year. You know he’s the one who got Mike rehabbed after ‘Democracy,’ when he had that stress fracture.”

  “I did not know that. Why did I not know that?”

  “Because Victor, and the premiere, and the tour.”

  “Oh yeah. I actually heard from Mike after we got started on this. He said if nobody else had offered, he would have.”

  Dana hadn’t heard that. “Aw, what a sweetie.”

  “Yeah but thank God for Zach because he’s physically perfect for it.

  Mike would have made me look like a crone.”

  Dana laughed. “That sounded kind of diva, Andy.”

  “I am going full diva for this. You know the story of the Bourne staging, right?” Dana made a sound of assent. “Okay, well. Zach has a body image problem because he doesn’t look like Mike. Or me,” he added. “He’s a beautiful mover, but he’s not the typical ballet boy. So he fully gets the wanting to be the swan thing. Mike already is the swan. He could dance it like a dream, I’m sure. The two of them should do it sometime.”

  “But not this time.”

  “Nope. This time is all about me me me.” His phone’s alarm pinged.

  “Ugh.”

  “What was that?”

  “Time to eat again. If it wasn’t for that one thing at the end, I could do this in my normal state. He’s all, sir, you know this position is designed to minimize the stress on you but I’m still really heavy so please go lift a lot of weight because if I break your neck I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Dana was cracking up. “Is he that heavy?”

  “Not as heavy as he thinks he is, and it’s all muscle and bone, but he’s maybe ten pounds heavier than me. Normal me, that is.”

  “How sore were you the first couple of weeks?”

  “Oh my God. Agony. I’ve got foam rollers in every room. I’m getting massages twice a week. But I have to say there’s some satisfaction in going beast mode for once in my life.”

  “You? A beast?” Dana couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.

  “I’ll send you a selfie. And then I’ll go and have the latest muscle-gain mini-meal. Jesus, I can’t wait to live on fish tacos an
d champagne again.”

  “Go do it. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye.” Andy stripped down to his briefs, went to the master bathroom, and took a few mirror selfies to show off the new body. Not bad for fifty-two, he thought, and sent the best to Dana. Then he put his pants back on and went

  to eat. The next time he checked his phone there was a text: Has Victor seen this yet? Because wow

  Andy giggled. No

  You may have to make a new episode when he’s in town for the performance

  Oh I plan to

  LOL

  When Victor actually got a look at Andy with his clothes off, he said,

  “Holy shit.”

  “I hope that’s a holy shit of approval and not of horror.” Andy wasn’t really in any doubt. Especially after Victor got his hands on him. “Uh, catnip, the performance is tomorrow and there are certain things I should not do.”

  Victor didn’t say anything. He kept doing things. “Oh, but,” Andy grabbed for his train of thought, “we can do that.”

  About ten minutes later, Victor said, “I meant to say hi, sweetheart, I missed you.” Andy cracked up. “You said you were working out. I knew you were working out. But damn.” Victor peeled himself off his husband, shook himself like a wet dog, and looked around the room. “Oh really?”

  “Dana’s suggestion.”

  “No it was not.”

  “I promise. I sent her a selfie.” Andy watched Victor go over to the camera and switch it off.

  “You were already, what, eight pounds up when I left?”

  “It’s hard to see it day to day, I know. That look on your face was awfully gratifying.”

  Victor laughed. “You have to admit you made quite an entrance.”

  Victor’s flight got in at a horrible time for traffic, so they’d agreed a car service would pick him up instead of Andy. He’d walked into the quiet house, greeted Molly, and gone looking for his husband. Hearing the ‘I’m up here’ from the bedroom, he’d already been expecting some kind of reunion fun. He wasn’t expecting the Olympian hotness leaning on the bathroom door frame.

  “I’ll make a couple of entrances tomorrow.” Andy sat up.

  Victor knew exactly what he meant. He couldn’t wait. But he only got these two nights, and then it was back to work. “Do your fishnets still fit?”

  Oh really, Andy thought delightedly. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

  “What, right now?”

  “You’ve been gone for three weeks. If you need a little more recovery time we can eat first.” With that gross insult, Andy went over to their huge walk-in closet and found the garter belt and stockings. Not the tights, because those had to come off for fun. “Yep, they still fit.” He put on some high heels and walked back into the bedroom. The camera’s red light was on again.

  Andy struck a pose.

  “‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.’” Andy was sprawled on the couch in the green room, makeup smudged, covered with sweat, pants molting, feathers everywhere. Zach was looking at him with concern. Andy cracked up. “You were great, Zach. This whole thing was great. Thank you so, so much. I hope every company in the country sees the video and thinks, shit, why is that guy not working with us.”

  “Thanks, Andy. Um, I think people are waiting for us out in the house.”

  “I know they are. Throw me a bottle of water?” They got themselves out of costume, cleaned up, and dressed. Andy’s phone had been buzzing nonstop ever since he turned it on. He didn’t bother looking at the messages because the people he most wanted to talk to were all right outside. Zach waited so they could walk out together.

  There was an hour of meeting and greeting and congratulations, then a small mob of press outside the club. Andy singled out Sherry Martinez, the Pop Quiz reporter who’d set the whole thing in motion for him, while he and Victor waited for Zach and his fiancée Karen to join them. Then the four of them gave good face for about ten minutes before making their way through the mob to the waiting limo. Andy and Victor were home less than half an hour later. “So,” Victor said, after they were undressed and while he could still think, “are you glad you did it?”

  “Honey, I’d be glad for no other reason than that you came home to see me.”

  “When will you join me?” Those three weeks apart had felt more like three months. Victor knew it was because of the tour, and the following two

  months at home together. He’d been sending a ridiculous number of emails and texts, ostensibly about Shakespeare, simply because getting a reply to each one made Andy seem closer. He’d emailed their counselor, too. Her response amounted to ‘what did you expect.’

  Andy wished they had more than one night before Victor was gone again. He wished he didn’t have anything else to do, that he could go with his husband tomorrow, instead of another two weeks from now. “There’s Janis and her concert next week, and then I have the opening for the Tempest show at that gallery. The minute that’s done, I’m on a plane with Molly.”

  “No chance I can get back for the concert. Tell everybody I’m sorry to miss it.” He really was. Janis had been a backup musician for those two sets Victor did at Chrome, back in the day. Now she was a Grammy-winning recording artist, about to head out on a world tour of her own, promoting the album based on tango. “Tell her I’ve pre-ordered the album.”

  “I’ll do that.” Andy had his mouth on the back of Victor’s neck. He nibbled on that silver chain. “You wore this just for me, didn’t you.”

  “Every time I wear it, it’s for you. You wore the jewelry for me.”

  “You’d better believe it.” His wedding ring, the Australian ring on his right index finger, and the crocodile cuff. Both hands were on Victor, wrapped around from behind as they both knelt on the bed. Andy brought his right hand up Victor’s side, keeping that cuffed wrist in contact with skin, loving the way his neck relaxed against Andy’s shoulder. He raised up a little, wrapping his left arm over Victor’s chest and changing their angle so he could kiss Victor’s mouth. “God, this mouth of yours.”

  “You liked it yesterday.” Victor was breathless, swamped with desire.

  “You liked mine.” They’d gone sixty-nine without discussion, Andy on his back with those high heels planted above the headboard. “Still want me to make an entrance?”

  “Jesus, Andy. On my back. So I can see your face when you come.”

  Andy really hated dropping Victor off at the airport again. He knew he would. They talked about it on the way. Victor confessed to a record-breaking rate of self-abuse. After laughing, Andy confirmed that he’d been doing the same thing. “We had all that time, and it was like even on days we didn’t fool around we could have, right? Then you’re off in Wisconsin or

  wherever the fuck and I might not even be actively horny, but just thinking about you being there and me being here, it’s like, gaahh.”

  “Exactly.” Victor was smiling. “Sleeping with you, sitting around in the morning with you, hugging you, kissing you. I miss it all so much. And since nothing I can do to myself adds up to any of that, I spank the monkey.”

  “Like a couple of goddamned teenagers.” Andy kissed him, because they were together and he could. “Thank you for being here. It was so great to know you were out there.”

  “It was so great to see you do that. After watching the video, I really wanted to see you do it on stage. You were gorgeous.”

  “Thanks sweetness. It felt good. I mean, it felt like torture for six weeks, but doing it felt good. Being able to do it. I had my doubts there for a minute.”

  “You played it off pretty well.” A car honked behind them. “I do not want to get out of this car.”

  “Go be a movie star. I’ll be there before you know it.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too. I’m not going to get out of the car with you because if I hug you I might not let you go.”

  Victor nodded. He felt the same way. He reached between the fr
ont seats for his overnight bag, opened the door, then leaned over for one more kiss.

  “Hurry.”

  The movie shoot was going well, but Victor was counting the days. Even after that talk, he didn’t know why it was so bad. Jonathan and Loretta noticed, maybe because he kept prolonging their regular evening get-togethers in the hotel bar. When there was still a week to go before Andy would be there, he finally thought I have a problem. He emailed his counselor Robyn again, asking if they could do a phone session. She sent back a few suggested times. One of them worked. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said. “Since that thing in September, we’ve been talking about anxiety and whatever in the context of safety. Everything’s fine with that.

  There is like zero threat level out here, our manager says the chatter is basically all green, Andy says there’s absolutely nothing doing at home. It’s not about safety. Why am I so freaked out?”

  “There was a chance this would happen,” Robyn said. “I think it’s important for you to remember the scope of what happened to you in September. You say you’re not anxious about your personal safety, or about Andy’s. But because he’s not there with you, you are anxious. Now connect that to September.”

  “When I got shot.” She didn’t say anything. Victor took the next step.

  “When I got shot because I put myself between my husband and a gun.”

  Robyn made a sound that meant ‘keep going.’ Victor said the thing he hadn’t said before. “When I made a split-second decision based on the fact that I would rather die than live without him. Oh, fuck.”

  “And that hasn’t actually changed, has it.”

  “Of course it fucking hasn’t. So all of this mess in my head is that same thing? I’m living without him and I hate it, even though I know perfectly well he’s alive and safe and on his way to me?”