Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2006 21:32:11 -0700 From: christopher. Subject: breaking through part 21 Regular disclaimers apply: this is fiction, not for profit, not implying anything about the real people involved, same old stuff as always. Read it if you're of age wherever you are, read it if you're not offended by fiction involving real people doing things that real people do. Thanks for all the readers who've stuck with the story through the first twenty chapters. It's been quite a ride and this chapter is a sort of transition to a few new story arcs. I'd love to know what you guys think about the possibilities laid herein, keep sending the supportive e-mails, the suggestions, the ideas, the rants and the complaints. I read every single one and respond to them all. I love writing to readers, love chatting with them, give it a try. E-mail can be directed to christopherrluu@gmail.com, instant messages to the AIM/iChat screen-name babyofthe1980s. Breaking Through is now officially an award-winning story, proudly holding the torch of "Best Non-Boyband Story" in the 2006 Boyband Story Awards. Thanks for all the votes. Part XXI "It tastes like a grilled cheese sandwich," Chris said, pushing Jake's plate back towards him, "did you mean to order grilled cheese?" "I'm sure it's got some fancy imported cheese in it," Jake said, taking another bite. Chris took a sip of his iced tea, the sides of the glass dripping with condensation in the heat of the Los Angeles sun. "But yeah, I think we're paying thirty bucks for a grilled cheese sandwich." They were sitting on the patio at the trendiest LA restaurant, something neither of them would usually do, but it was the closest place to where they'd been shopping and Chris was so hungry that he was willing to swallow his gum if it meant it would make his stomach stop growling. Chris had only needed a few things, some new t-shirts, maybe a new black hoodie, but even the simplest errands turned into huge ordeals when Jake suggested they go into the city so he could pick up new tennis shoes, get a haircut, and swing by Maggie's apartment. "Are you going to finish your sandwich?" Jake asked, already reaching over the table for it. Chris pushed his plate towards Jake, "While you're getting your haircut, I'm going to hang at Maggie's, maybe take a nap." "Maybe she'll take you to the nice stores on Melrose," Jake said, taking a big bite. "I don't need a babysitter." "In LA you do," Jake said, finishing off Chris' sandwich, "we all do. So these stories you've been writing, why are you so into dreams? They didn't ask you to write six stories on one idea, did they?" "No, but...I don't know, it just happened," Chris said, glancing around the restaurant and wishing he hadn't, Jake could tell when he was nervous, "there's weird stuff going on in my head at night." He was careful not to show too much emotion, photographers always managed to catch him making the most ridiculous faces, sending the media into a frenzy over what could possibly be happening to him. Lately, the hot news was he and Natalie's suddenly rekindled coziness, but there also were more pictures of him and Jake together than he could remember, hundreds or thousands of pictures of them just walking around Los Angeles shopping, eating at restaurants, walking to the car, pictures of them in New York with Maggie and Peter, even more of them in other cities when either of them did press; it was outrageous, Chris thought, that anyone wanted to see them, and even more outrageous that magazines paid the hounding photographers to print them. He did his job and he understood that they were doing theirs, but he just wanted to eat without having to worry about a picture of him stuffing his face ending up in Us Weekly. Jake finished the last of his ice tea and reached for Chris', but Chris snatched it up, taking one last gulp before handing the rest to Jake. "So I'll see you in an hour or so," Jake said, eyes darting up to Chris' hair, "I'll call you when I'm done." Chris nodded, he'd been letting his hair grow out, the dark brown now flecked with lighter streaks from their almost daily treks to the beach, bright sunlight combining with the salty water. He had a sweep of bangs across his forehead that Jake liked to brush to the side whenever he got the chance. Chris thought it looked a little too trendy, but it seemed to work for now. Natalie liked it, joking that his hair was longer than hers. He pushed the stray hair to the side and Jake smiled, biting his lower lip, a hint of mischief in his eye. "Do you need me to pick anything else up for you?" In the rare times he and Jake separated, Chris never had to wonder who they photographers would follow. He'd be left alone and Jake would take the entire group of photographers with him wherever he went, but more frequently now, a few would follow him. Chris wondered if they worked in teams, one guy would follow Jake and another would follow him on his mundane trips to Maggie's house or even the bank. "No. Well, maybe some more underwear. Nothing too crazy," Jake said, leaning back in his chair, "some blue t-shirts. You know the kind I like." "I think I can handle it," Chris said, tossing his napkin onto his plate along with his silverware, "Maggie's expecting me, right? I'm not going to walk in on her and Peter making babies or anything?" Jake cocked an eyebrow, a smile spreading across his lips. "That would get you one hell of a story. Let's get going. I'll drop you off and get this taken care of," Jake said, fingers running through his unruly hair. He got up and Chris followed, Jake wrapping him up in his arms as they waited for the car, a quiet "I love you," floating into Chris' ear. Let the photographers do what they want; he wasn't going to stop doing what he always did. When he heard a soft, appreciative "Mmmm," come from Chris' throat, he just hugged tighter. *** "So Jake's been asking me about a lot of my wedding stuff lately, are you two planning to go big?" Maggie asked, handing Chris half a dozen white t-shirts. He liked to replace them all at once, hated when they had different gradations of dinginess to them. He grabbed six more, knew exactly what size he was in his favorite overpriced plain white t-shirt, loved how they felt against his skin, the soft cotton jersey grazing his arms as Maggie kept walking. "I don't know, he hasn't really said anything," Chris said, surprised, "I didn't even know we were doing anything." "Oh," Maggie said, grimacing slightly, "I didn't know either way. Sorry." "No, it's fine," Chris said, "I just didn't know." A sales girl grabbed the t-shirts from him, pointing to the registers in the back of the store without saying a word. She was either star-struck or just being polite, either way, Chris was grateful he wouldn't have to be carrying twelve shirts around while he was following Maggie. "He's full of surprises, I guess," Maggie said, holding a top up against her body and looking at herself in the mirror. She shrugged and put it back on the rack, grabbing the identical shirt in a different size. Chris sat down in a big overstuffed leather chair, his head suddenly spinning, "Christopher, I'm sure if you just ask him, he'll tell you what's going on. You don't have to worry about anything." He glanced around the store, it was empty apart from he and Maggie, and everything was lined up in neat rows sorted by color. The little table in front of the chairs had a copy of Esquire on it, along with the requisite Vogue, GQ, and Harper's Bazaar. Maggie grabbed it and flipped it open to his story, the fifth of six he'd been contracted to write, "It's a good one. Well, I think it is," Chris said softly, "have you read it yet?" "Peter subscribes," Maggie said, "dreams are your new thing, huh?" "Just something that pops up," Chris said, scanning the pages, "I didn't mean for it to." "They're good, all of them," Maggie said, slipping it from Chris' hands and putting it down, "and you're going to be good. I don't know what my brother's got planned, but knowing him, well, it's nothing you have to worry about. You mean the world to him." "You always say that," Chris said, following Maggie to the cash registers. "Because it's true," Maggie said, putting her things down. Chris' t-shirts were already bagged as he slipped the cashier his credit card. He pointed to Maggie's stack while she was rifling through her purse, "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't." "Did you read the New Yorker story?" "Peter thought it was awful, but he'd never tell you that. I liked it." "I didn't write it for Peter," Chris said, "or anyone else. As long as Jake got the message, I don't care if I never write for the New Yorker again." "He didn't like it because it was obviously written for just one person. All those references and inside facts, other people couldn't have understood, there's no way. And the title, it just confused Peter." "I didn't send it in with a title, it just sort of happened, I keep saying that but it's the truth. I just...I sort of felt like I was in a daze. Remnick probably put it there," Chris said, "but I'm glad it did. I don't know where I'd be if we just sort of...weren't." Jake had needed something, Chris realized, something that assured him that it was Chris knew it was a mistake, knew that he was wrong. He needed physical evidence that Chris wouldn't do it again, wouldn't even think about it again, and that through the entire ordeal, his heart was Jake's through and through. The story did it, did it for both of them. It hurt to write, Chris remembered, he hated himself when the words came out, but it was what he had to do. "That story was so intense, I remember seeing him shaking and holding his breath while he was reading it," Maggie said. The cashier walked around, handing both of them their bags, her huge commission probably making up for the fact that Chris and Maggie hadn't interrupted their conversation for her. They walked through the store and Chris slid his sunglasses on, photographers an afterthought. When he was with Maggie, who was so good about ignoring them, they seemed to just disappear. Smiling, Chris followed Maggie's lead as they went from shop to shop. Maggie acted like an older sister, it was an instinct that she had mastered with Jake; Chris happy to just fell into the part of the little brother, the baby brother that Maggie missed having. Jake was too stubborn to listen to her advice, but Chris seemed to heed every word she said. "It had to be, I just had to get it out." "He's got himself a good one," she said, "don't let him forget it." Chris was startled, a girl suddenly slamming into him, her hands coming flat against Chris' chest as she barreled through him. "Jesus Christ," Chris yelled, trying to keep his balance. The shopping bags he was holding fell to the ground and Maggie jumped back, trying to stay on her feet, "what's going on?" "You asshole," the girl screamed, the photographers were snapping wildly. There were only three of them, but Chris knew that word spread fast. He hoped that Maggie wouldn't look bad, he didn't care what they printed about him, but if they said anything about Maggie, especially if he really was at fault, he'd never forgive himself, "fuck you and your goddamn stories." "What's going on? Who are you?" Chris asked, scooping up the shopping bags and facing her, "this is crazy." "You don't remember me? Typical," she said, rolling her eyes, "Stephanie Krauss. We went to grad school together, we met each other at a party, we're practically on the same fucking roster and you still don't remember me." "Why are you slamming into me? On the street at that," Chris said, still confused, "there are people here." Maggie grabbed his arm, her face worried. "New Fiction? What's going on with your stupid titles and stupid stories? That ridiculous unintelligible piece pushed me out of the New Yorker. The New fucking Yorker was going to print one of my stories and they push me back for that shit you wrote." Chris sighed, he vividly remembered David Remnick saying that someone would have to get cut if he was printed. He forgot all about it when Jake kissed him, forgot all about the trouble he had to go through to get that story printed. It didn't even enter his mind that someone would be hurt by it. He was selfishly looking for an answer to his own problem. "I thought you wrote young adult novels. What are you talking about?" "Not everyone busts into the mainstream right away, some of us have to work hard to get up there where people pay attention. Not everyone can just land on top without working for it." "I work hard," Chris said, Maggie was pulling him back, she could feel his blood pounding through his veins, "and it's not up to me what gets printed. Yeah, I asked, but they didn't have to. It was up to Remnick, don't take it out on me." "He wouldn't risk having you on his bad side, Christopher. Your name sells magazines. Give some of us a chance, too. We're all working hard and you can write anything and it'll get printed. Anywhere! Nobody's going to risk pissing you off when they can make a quick buck off you." "Let's get going, Christopher," Maggie said, pulling him away from Stephanie and her irate screaming, "it was nice meeting you, Stephanie." "Run away with your glitzy Hollywood friends, Chris; remember that when you try to write something real and you realize that you're just as fake," she threw her hands up and walked away, pushing the photographers aside. If she wanted publicity, she got it, but she was bringing Chris and Maggie with her even though they didn't want anything to do with it. "What just happened?" Chris asked, hurrying down the street alongside Maggie. "You tell me," she said, glad that the entire ordeal was over, those few minutes seemed to drag on forever, especially with the clicking from the cameras behind her, "you sure know who to piss off." "She's crazy," Chris said, "I just, man, I can't believe that just happened." "Welcome to Hollywood, Christopher, the only theme park where there's no admission to see the crazies," Maggie said, reaching for Chris' hand, "you two are so lucky that you get away from all this." *** "I like it when you do that," Chris whispered, his lips just barely seperate from Jake's. "I like doing it," Jake said, kissing Chris again, hand sliding around his waist, palm flat against Chris' back. He did it again, tongue sliding in just so as he held Chris tighter and felt him tense, toes wriggling into the warm sand. He always felt like when they were laying together--so tight that he could barely distinguish where he stopped and where Chris started--it was like they were one person, one entity moving together. Chris' hand went up to cup Jake's face, fingers on rough stubble as Jake's hand slip up under his t-shirt, a shiver running up his back. He felt Jake push him down, both of them landing on the sand as the sun started its descent into the ocean. Jake held Chris tight, nose nuzzling against his neck as they got comfortable, "You're why I watch this happen, Jake." Jake pulled their bodies so that he was sitting with Chris in front of him, chin resting on Chris' shoulder, "What's the point of having the beach and the sunsets and not have anyone to share it with? It doesn't mean anything if I don't have you with me." Jake kissed Chris' neck, hands grasping Chris' as he kept his eyes on the horizon. He leaned back against Jake's chest, "You're too much." "No," Chris said, shaking his head, "I used to write for me, but I guess only had one story to tell. Everything after that, everything came out because of you. For you and for us." Jake watched the sky, watched the colors change as Chris settled back into his body. He didn't know what to say, the sound of crashing waves filling his ears as Chris' eyes stayed fixed on the line where sky met surf. As the sky darkened and the stars peeked through the velvety purple of the sky, Jake pulled Chris back, the cooling sand chilling their backs. Jake felt Chris' hand on his chest, idly stroking in circles as he felt Jake breathe. "I wish I could do more for you, Chris, I really do. You do so much, I can't figure out why you'd ever settle for someone like me." Chris didn't move, let the words sink in. "Because you have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met, and more than anything, because I know that nobody could love me the way you love me. You're everything to me," Jake felt Chris' lips on his cheek, forehead pressed to temple as he whispered the words into Jake's ear, "and you're not hard to look at." "Too bad I can't say the same about you," Jake said, pushing Chris' hair back, their noses grazing each other as Jake tried to find an angle he liked. "Jackass," Chris said, fingers running over Jake's jaw. An image of Topher flashed into his head, the jokes being thrown around reminding him of the times that they'd do the same thing, when they'd throw jokes around about each other, belittling writing skills, acting skills, anything, everything. Chris missed it, missed having someone who was there just to joke with him all the time. "What are you thinking about," Jake asked, noticing Chris' sudden pause on top of him, "is it too cold out here?" "No, no," Chris said, pushing his hair back off his forehead, "I'm just thinking about last time we were out here." "I think about that all the time," Jake said, a wry smile on his lips, "I remember it every time I see you in those shorts, every time I see the beach." "I love you so much," Chris said, "so much." He kissed Jake again, startled that of all the things that came to mind during something as intimate as this, Topher's warm smile and bright eyes were what came up. "I've never loved someone like I love you." "Keep telling me that," Jake said, kissing Chris' neck. He needed to hear it, every time it happened he felt stronger, felt like Chris was reaffirming something that he only felt inside himself, "and I'll keep kissing you like this." Jake did it again, mouth open just slightly, tongue sliding along Chris' lips before he pushed Chris down onto the sand again, fingers tangling in his hair, eyes slowly shutting. The waves crashed behind them and as the sky became specked with stars, Jake wanted it to last forever--just he and Chris, their bodies and the beach. *** "The Bosom Buddies." The words ran across the page as Chris and Jake laughed, Jake's arm over his shoulder and his own hand in his pocket; their white button-up shirts were wrinkled and their jeans were dark, their feet, of course, were bare. They were on the beach, waves crashing behind them and their jeans soaking wet, and Chris thought that it was too obvious, that it was probably exactly what people thought of when they thought of them, but it still looked good, even with that cheesy fuzzy hazy filter that Chris hated because it made everything look like it was straight out of a soap opera. There were other pictures, ones of Jake pulling their bodies together, ones where Chris wrapped his arms around Jake's chest, but they didn't get chosen for the spread. Jake asked to keep them and they were sitting on his desk at home, a huge stack of prints and negatives adding to the clutter that was already there. Chris couldn't believe that People Magazine picked him as one of the fifty most beautiful people. Jake was pretty much guaranteed a spot, Chris knew, but he still couldn't figure out how he got thrown into the mix. He'd been in and out of the tabloids and magazines for a while, but he was still surprised that people were interested in him outside of his books. The statistics on the page shocked him too, Jake had eighteen films and one play to his credit and under Chris' name, they printed "three books, twelve other published works." Three and twelve? He had lost track of them all, it made his heart swell just knowing that he'd done so much. Jake would be proud when he saw it. "Don't you go getting a big head over that," Natalie said. Chris had somehow maintained the mindset that the only person that found him attractive was Jake. Natalie didn't know how he managed to ignore the fact that other people might have shared the same opinion, but it was something that made Chris that much more charming--he was modest about everything, from his appearance to his work. She scanned him, only to compare him to the picture, same tan skin, lean build, and carefree smile. Jake probably knew that it wouldn't last forever, Chris would get the hint one day, but for now, Chris was going to be himself. "Me? There's going to be no living with Jake. Two years in a row for him," Chris said, flipping through the magazine. He never thought he'd be on any list like this, but Stephanie Krauss' shrill voice kept shouting at him in his head, "Your name sells magazines." The pictures of their confrontation the other day got printed in a less respectable magazine and Vivian was handling damage control so well that he didn't even have to worry about people wondering. It had somehow gotten transformed from a confrontation to a quarrel to just a conflict. The terms got more and more vague and Chris kept his mouth shut; he didn't want to say anything that would make it worse. "It's a really good picture of the both of you," she said, flipping to see who else was on the list. It was ridiculous, really, people who were in the news got featured, not anyone who was particularly gorgeous; everyone in Hollywood was beautiful, and whether he liked it or not, he was part of Hollywood now, part of it ever since he'd written the script. There was no denying it, he had an Oscar sitting on the shelf back at home. "I only look good because he's there," Chris said, "he brings it out of me." "Too cute," Natalie said, "and speak of the devil...here he comes." Chris looked over his shoulder and saw Jake heading towards them wearing a blue hoodie that would have brought out the color of his eyes if he weren't wearing sunglasses. Chris smiled, brushing the hair off his forehead; Jake's stride suddenly quickening when he noticed that Chris saw him. He ran his hand slowly across Chris' shoulder blades before he took he chair beside him. "So this movie is a go, but I need you to read the script for me, Chris." Jake picked up Chris' cup of coffee and took a long sip. "Why me?" Chris asked. Jake never asked him to read scripts, he usually had to ask over and over again just to see it. "Because it's an adaptation of a book and you read books," Jake said. "Unless it's one of my books, I won't know it well enough," Chris said. "Which project is it?" Natalie asked, waving a strawberry around on her fork as she spoke. Urth, the little cafe Jake and Chris always went to when they were in LA, was surprisingly empty. It was unusually cool and there was a light breeze in the air that Chris didn't ever remember feeling in his other trips to the city. "Brave New World," Jake said, scooting his chair a little closer to Chris and leaning back. "Wait," Chris interrupted, "are you playing John?" Natalie rolled her eyes, "Don't know it well enough? I haven't read that since college." "I just re-read it a few weeks ago," Chris said to her before turning to Jake, "there's no way that they could write a good script for that book. It's too good." "Well, they're trying," Jake said, "and Dean said that it was a big deal and got my name in there. Give it a chance." "It's one of my favorite books, Jake," Chris said, "it's one of those things you can't mess with." Jake nodded, "Just read it and then tell me if it's bad. I haven't committed to anything." "Yeah, okay," Chris said, hesitating, "Maybe it'll be good, right?" "Give it a chance," Natalie repeated, "you could be missing out on something amazing if you don't." Jake's leg grazed his under the table, a chill spreading through Chris' body at the lightness of the touch, at how even the slightest contact sent ripples through his entire body. He rested his hand on Jake's thigh, feeling the warmth of his body through the thick layer of denim. Jake shot him a glance and he ignored it, craving the contact. "We've got to get going," Jake said, "we have to get changed and everything. When you get to the theatre tonight, give us a call so we can meet up again." "Alright," Natalie said, pushing her empty plate towards the middle of the table. She pulled her hair neatly behind her ears and grabbed her purse, "it's a fancy event, guys, no jeans and you both better be wearing ties." Chris nodded and ran through his outfit in his head. He'd grabbed his and Jake's suits, not tuxedos, they'd have to work; they weren't going to drive two hours back home to get their tuxes. "Thanks for hanging out with me today," Chris said as he hugged her, "I'll see you tonight." He turned around and followed Jake towards their car, "I didn't mean to sound like that back there," Chris said. "Like what?" "Like an asshole," Chris said, "I just feel like certain things are sacred, and that book is one of them. It's mainstream sci-fi, you know? Kids have to read it in high school." "You were going to let someone do your book, someone you never heard of." "My books aren't sacred," Chris said, "they're nothing like Brave New World." "To me, they're everything," Jake said, leaning in closer to Chris, their bodies almost brushing each other as they walked, "your writing is your heart on paper." "It's a lot of stuff to put into one movie, that's all I'm saying," Chris said, "who would they get to play the savage? Who's directing? Who had the balls to write a script for it?" "Calm down, Chris," Jake said, chuckling. He didn't realize that something as simple as asking Chris to read something over would elicit such a drawn-out reaction. He really did hold Chris' opinions high, especially on things like this, but Chris was being so stubborn about it that he wasn't sure he'd get an unbiased opinion back. "Just read it when it gets sent to the house, then you can tell me how awful it is and have the proof right in front of you." "Sorry," Chris said, "I didn't realize it'd get me like this." He heard Jake press the unlock button to the car and he opened the door, sliding into the passenger's seat, "I'm going to stop now." Jake nodded and backed out, his hand reaching for Chris'. If this is what Chris was like before he even read the script, Jake couldn't wait to hear what he'd have to say after. As soon as they got to Maggie's house, Jake threw off his jacket, grabbing Chris' arm as he walked around him, pressing their bodies together as he ran his hands down Chris' back. The truth was, he was only looking into the movie because he knew how much it meant to Chris, he asked Dean to send him anything that was based on a classic, anything with even a semblance of something literary. "Maybe they can mess up Alice in Wonderland next," Jake whispered into Chris' ear, "maybe Crime and Punishment or American Pastoral?" "Now you're just making fun of me," Chris said, hands running through Jake's thick hair, "but I can't have you mad at me because I have to ask you a favor today too." Jake pulled back, "Anything," he said, "just name it." Chris pulled Jake's head closer to his, lips grazing Jake's as he ran his hands down to rest on his shoulders, "So these stories I've been writing for Esquire," he said, giving Jake a light kiss. Jake needed more, pulling Chris in for a longer kiss, his hands sliding up to cup Chris' jaw. He'd do anything if it meant kissing him like this, Chris' mouth opening just slightly to accept Jake's tongue. Chris pressed their foreheads together, lips separating just a little, "they're going to print them all together in a book. I just have to write one or two more stories to make it worth buying." "Okay," Jake whispered, lips reaching for Chris' again. Slowly, his hands ran down to Chris' back, feeling Chris pull away, "What do you need me to do?" Jake asked, voice breathy, "glue the pages together?" "I need you to write an introduction," Chris said, eyes wide, searching for an answer in Jake's shocked expression, "they told me to ask someone I admire, someone that I'd be proud to have sharing the cover with me." "And you picked me?" Jake stepped back, his hands still on Chris' back, "I can't promise it'll be good, but I'll do it, I can't believe you're asking me. Your editor is okay with it?" "I don't care. Who do I admire more than you?," Chris said, leaning closer to Jake, lips grazing Jake's ear as he whispered, "I trust you more than anyone and to tell you the truth, you were the first person that came to mind." Jake stepped towards Chris again, "More than me? I can name a hundred people. Updike, Roth, Foer, Chabon, all those guys you talk about." "Yeah, but they don't get me like you do," Chris said, "they don't know me like you do. And they're probably too busy," Chris kissed at Jake's neck, feeling him shiver against his body. Jake nodded when Chris' lips latched on to the patch of skin under his ear between stubble and hair. "I'll do anything you need me to do," Jake whispered, his voice breathy, "just keep doing that." "What I need right now is you," Chris said, hands running up under Jake's hoodie. He pulled it up over Jake's head, the thin gray t-shirt he was wearing under going right with it. "All I ever need is you." "You've got me," Jake said, "anytime and anywhere. I'm all yours." His fingers grasped at the button of Chris' jeans, feeling Chris' body melt into the touch. He pulled off Chris' sweater, the soft cashmere fluttering down to the floor as Jake pressed their chests together. He felt Chris gasp when he reached inside his pants, hand connecting with his hard cock. Grinning, Jake pulled their lips together again, Chris shuffling to get his jeans off his ankles. He pulled away, breathless and flushed as he pulled Jake towards Maggie's sofa, watching him unbutton and slide his own jeans off on the way. Chris kissed Jake, hands sliding over his taut chest, feeling every hair and muscle under his fingers. Slowly, he kissed down Jake's neck, lips following the path of his fingers, soft nips and nibbles on Jake's soft skin as he got lower, taking a nipple between his lips for just a second before licking it, nub hardening in an instant. He kissed down Jake's stomach, feeling it tighten as he moved across it, his hand finally wrapping around Jake's thick shaft. "Fuck, Chris," he groaned, fingers tangling in Chris' hair when he felt the hot breath enveloping his length. Jake looked down just in time to see Chris take the head of his cock into his mouth, the wet heat surrounding Jake's shaft as it slid in, tongue pressed against the fat vein running along the underside of his length. Chris was on his knees, mind completely blank except for thoughts of how bad he needed to shoot, how bad he needed to make Jake shoot. Slowly, he licked up Jake's cock, a long, low groan filling his ears as he cupped Jake's balls. Stroking Jake's shaft, he licked across the tight head of his cock, a low, grumbling moan escaping Jake's lips as he felt a tight tug at his hair. He dove back down on Jake's cock, feeling it stretch his throat open as his balls slapped against his chin. He felt Jake thrust forward, almost gagging him as he ran his hand up Jake's hairy legs. He could taste the sweet saltiness of pre-cum, drops of it sliding from the corners of his mouth as he sucked at Jake's cock. Grunting, Jake let his hips push forward, his hands holding Chris' head steady as he thrust in and out, his breathing ragged as Chris switched between letting Jake thrust into his throat and stopping his hips to lap at his length, tongue running up and down the length of it. He felt Chris stroke his cock, strong, steady strokes as he caught his breath and licked his lips. Jake pushed his throat back against Chris' lips, feeling them part again, sliding his entire cock down into Chris' throat. Jake felt the familiar tingle, almost a burn in his balls that told him he was going to cum, but he also felt Chris freeze; he knew Jake's body well enough to know when to slow down and when to just push him over the edge. Chris ran a slow lick up Jake's shaft, feeling it pulse and throb with the slick movement, Jake's fingers pressing into his scalp. He could feel how bad Jake wanted it, he was only holding on with a sliver of self-control, his entire body convulsing in preparation. Chris pulled off and Jake looked down to watch him take the head in his mouth, tongue sliding against the sensitive ridge between head an shaft and he just froze; thick, hot spurts of cum shooting as Jake held him in place, shot after shot spurting into Chris' eager mouth. A low groan filled the room, echoing off the walls as he slouched against the back of the couch, his entire body limp as Chris got back up, breathing heavy and labored as he steadied Jake against himself. Jake pulled him into a kiss, traces of cum still on Chris' lips and tongue as he brought them together and ran his hands down Chris' chest. Chris felt Jake nudge him to the couch and with shaky feet, he managed to find himself with Jake on top of him, their bodies sliding together, slicked by sweat. Chris groaned, Jake's lips on his neck trailing down to his chest, scratchy beard on his sweaty skin. "God, Jake...fuck," Chris said, almost whimpering. His head spun as Jake scooted him up the couch, lips on his stomach, hot breath on his skin. Gasping, Chris' body went tight when he felt Jake's tongue trail over his cock and over his balls. Freezing, he felt a finger slide into him, Chris' breath stalling when he felt Jake circle his prostate, his back arching against the arm of Maggie's couch. Jake ran his tongue lower, slipping down to where his finger disappeared into Chris' hole, tongue teasing the tight ring, feeling Chris writhe with every movement. Sliding his finger in deeper, he heard a groan slip from Chris' lips, breathing heavy as his hands clutched at the couch cushions, fingers rasping against the fabric looking for something to hold onto. Another finger and another gasp, Jake looking up to see Chris' jaw quiver as he reached for his own cock, hand stroking the dripping shaft with short, choppy jerks. Chris jerked back, the feeling of Jake's hot tongue in his hole too much to handle, he bit his lip as he stroked faster, Jake grabbing his hand to stop him. Kissing back up Chris' chest, he slipped his two fingers back in, feeling the muscle stretch, feeling Chris press down on him every time he tapped Chris' prostate. Shivering, head thrown back and neck tense, Chris pulled Jake up, lips attached to Jake's neck again as he felt the blunt head of Jake's cock at his hole. "Jake," Chris said, hot breath on Jake's neck, "come on." Jake nodded, eyes glazed with lust as he reached down to stroke Chris' cock, pre-cum dribbling down his fingers. "Jake," Chris groaned, his voice tense as he grasped Jake's shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle, "Jake...fuck." Chris struggled to get Jake inside of him, anything, but Jake resisted, watching as Chris writhed under him, hungry for the burn, for the intimacy and the connection. He looked up at Jake, brown eyes connecting with the blue again, ravenous as he pulled their lips together, Jake's cock finally slipping in just an inch or two, Chris' entire body tensing at the surprise. His throat was dry, a low groan falling onto Jake's ears as he slipped more of his cock in, the warmth and the tightness enveloping every inch of his cock. "Fuck Chris...fuck," Jake groaned, teeth and lips at Chris' collarbone, "God this is...just fuck." His head drew a blank, his body going entirely on instinct as every grunt and groan he made mixing with Chris', both their bodies moving together in well- practiced motions. Jake knew every spot to hit, every angle that drove Chris crazy, just how hard and fast to go to make him throw his head back, make him freeze and just soak in the sensations, and how to make him cum quick and hard. He felt Chris' body, slick under his, tense with every thrust, quiver every time he delivered a hard thrust, the head of his cock sliding right over Chris' spot, his cock spilling drops of pearly pre-cum in a steady stream. Chris' head tossed from side to side, strings of incoherent moans coming from his mouth as Jake thrust quick and hard, their lips connecting again as Jake felt Chris' asshole tighten on his cock, his hands clutching at Jake's shoulders as he came, hot jets of cum flying up between their heaving bodies, he could barely breathe, breaths shallow and short, gasping as he tried to keep himself conscious, Jake's lips on his again, Jake's cock slamming into him through the convulsions. Jake threw his head back, eyes half-closed as he held Chris tight, arms wrapped around his chest as he froze, cock fully sheathed in Chris' asshole, entire body rigid as he shot. Chris felt the warm slipperiness as Jake's cock seemed to swell in side him, shooting jets of cum into his hole as he groaned, body tingling. He could feel his eyes drooping, Jake's body settling on top of his, the weight of it settling his racing head. "We have to get ready," Chris said, barely a whisper, eyes barely open. Jake shushed him, lips coming down on Chris' again, "I can't get enough of you. Forget about them, I have to be with you right now." Chris was already falling in and out of sleep, nodding as Jake brushed hair off his forehead and ran his nose through his hair, their bodies settling together in a comfortable tangle. He could barely nod, but Jake held him tight, lips on the back of his neck. It was perfect, Chris thought, just how he dreamed it could be. *** "Thanks for coming," Chris said, shaking another hand attached to someone he didn't know. He'd been greeting people for the last hour and only recognized one or two people; the guests were probably much more interested in shaking Natalie's hand, giving her soft kisses on the cheek as they entered the ballroom. "Looking good there," Jake said, patting him firmly on the shoulder, "when do you think you can get in there so I'm not by myself?" "As soon as Natalie quits being the gracious hostess," Chris said, "I need something to drink. I'm going pass out of I have to smile for any more pictures." The Literacy Foundation fundraiser was just another event to be seen at, everyone knew it, but if it meant that Chris and Natalie would be getting them some serious money, Chris would do it. Enduring the upper crust of the west coast meant meeting people like the Steele daughters, the Wilseys, and just about everyone in Los Angeles that wasn't doing something else. He couldn't believe that people from San Francisco, were even coming, but he was reminded that they came from literary families, families that were supposed to be patronizing the arts, so he put on his smile and counted down the minutes until he'd be able to talk to Jake. "I loved your stories for the magazine," someone said over Chris' shoulder. "Thanks so much," Chris said, "it's nice to have people reading. Books or magazines, either way, I'm just trying to do my part." "Everyone's interested in your stories though, I'm really interested in you, literary misanthrope of the West Coast. You still manage to be mysterious even though we see you in the tabloids almost every week." "It's only because I have a few friends in high places," Chris said, "who are you again? I didn't catch it the first time." Natalie was fidgeting. She glanced around Chris to see that the line was dwindling. It was almost time for the speakers anyway. "Alexander Clarkson, Alec, though," he said, "my father runs the Pacific-Union club up north." "Pacific-Union?" Chris said, holding in a chuckle, "what are you doing here then? It's full of liberals. We're in Hollywood. Your daddy might disown you, you might lose the numbers after your name." Chris didn't know much about the club, just that they were stuffy and elitist, conservative. It was San Francisco's most exclusive club and didn't let women in or something like that. It was ridiculous and backwards, but it managed to survive to this day. Chris didn't know how, but it did. "Not all of us share the same views as the club, but having the connections does get you into places like this," Alec said, "and I'm not a second or a third. My big brother got the roman numerals. I just got the last name and grandpa's first name." "That's a pretty big deal," Chris said, looking over his shoulder to see how many people were next, most of the line had been dispersed, everyone rushing inside to their seats. "Not when it's mom's dad," Tyler said, "then it's really not a big deal. I feel like I'm a living compromise sometimes, something my dad did just to get my mom off his case." "Chris, I think we're almost done," Natalie said over his shoulder, "and if we don't get done soon, I'm going to eat you. I'm really that hungry." "Okay," Chris said, "it was nice meeting you. I hope you have a good time in there tonight." Natalie put her hand on Chris' arm and he waved at the cameras one last time, the lights dimmed and they walked into the ballroom, the faces of the event and the entire campaign. He followed Natalie up on stage, careful not to step on the train of her dress as they made it up to the podium, "Thanks to everyone for making it here tonight," Chris said, ignoring everyone but Jake. It was the only way he could speak in front of a crowd. Eyes glued on Jake, he kept on talking, "Natalie and I have been proud to represent the Literacy Foundation in their quest to provide the knowledge of reading to everyone, no matter their age, race, or social background. Without reading, not only would I be out of a job, but the great works of literature, both visual and written, would be lost to future generations." "And tonight we're all here to celebrate all the hard work the foundation is doing, from providing books to school around the country to funding public workshops on the importance of learning to read. So tonight is all about not only how important reading is, but how fun it can be. Whether you're reading a book, a magazine, or anything else, you get to make up your own mind about something. Have a good time tonight, anything you can give to the foundation would be greatly appreciated and through the generosity of Knopf Publishing, home to such great writers as Toni Morrison, and John Updike, and our very own Christopher Lewis, they and Random House publishers will match all donations made tonight." "Thanks again for coming," Chris said before he and Natalie got down off the stage. As soon as he reached the floor, he rushed to the Jake's table, taking the empty seat beside him. "You were great," Jake whispered into his ear. "Good enough to sucker a million bucks out of you?" "Two million at least," Jake joked, "you look great, too." Chris fidgeted in his suit, undoing to button to his jacket to get more comfortable. He and Jake were both in classic black and white, both glad that it was so easy to just thrown on the same suit over and over again and not have to worry about gown, up-dos, and shoes. Chris ran his hand over Jake's thigh, "You look amazing. Almost as good as you look naked, but I guess black tie limits skin exposure." "Someone was asking me about you earlier," Jake said, "someone who said that he wanted to know if you were going to sit at this table." "Was he from San Francisco?" "I don't know, he didn't say," Jake said, "is he a friend from Stanford?" "No he was the last guy in," Chris said, "some sort of San Francisco socialite." "We're not getting involved with any socialite drama," Jake said, chuckling, "they're nothing but trouble." Jake quieted down when the food came out, both he and Chris starving, mouths practically watering as the waiters brought out the appetizers. The food was the sort of small portions on big plates that Chris knew would impress Jake, whose eyes lit up as soon as the food was served. "Well, it's nice to know sell outs can still have good hearts," Stephanie said, eyes narrow as she took a seat across from Chris. Chris didn't know what to say, his hand shaking slightly as he put his fork down, he hadn't even had the chance to take a bite, "This isn't the time or the place," he said, "don't make a scene." "I have manners, Chris," she said matter-of-factly, "it's you that doesn't mind stepping on toes to get what you want." "What's going on?" Jake asked. He didn't recognize the girl across from them, the dimmed lights and flickering candles making it even harder. "You don't like to advertise your methods?" she asked Chris, "begging and pleading, throwing around your fucking D-list status to get your way makes you look bad in front of your Hollywood friends?" "It's over, Stephanie, we can't do anything about it now. Just chill out," Chris said. "It's not over, actually," she said, her words spiteful, "it's really just starting." She got up and turned around, not paying any attention to Jake or the other people in the room, fuming as she stomped out into the cool night. "Crazies and socialites," Jake said, "I'm beginning to wonder if I need to set up another play-date for you." "I'm just going to stay away from people in general," Chris said, "just me and you. In bed. All day." He drew the last two words out, sending a shiver down Jake's spine. He smiled, running his hand over Jake's thigh, "We don't need anyone else." "Don't tempt me, Chris," Jake whispered, "You're going up on stage again and again all night--we won't have time." Chris looked around the room, everyone was enjoying their food and talking, but Jake was right, he and Natalie were introducing everyone that night and making transitions from one part of the event to another. He was already nervous, but now that he'd been shaken up by Stephanie's threats, no matter how idle they seemed. He didn't need to that to add to the stresses of the night. Jake smiled at him and it all melted away, "Hey, come on. Focus, right here," Jake said, pointing to his eyes and then Chris', "you have nothing to worry about." "Hey, hey," Alec said as Chris got off the stage. He and Natalie had just introduced the winner of a scholarship contest, stepping offstage to let her speak and introduce the next part of the night, "I didn't see what table you're at, I wanted to talk to you." "I'm up by the stage. Coming on and off, you know?" "My table is full of old ladies talking about knitting and grandkids. I'm going crazy." "I don't know how they did the seating or anything," Chris said, "maybe I'll see you during the social at the end, I'm so frazzled right now. Are you here by yourself?" "Last minute, yeah, I didn't realize some of my favorite writers would be here." "I have to get back, practice my lines. You can't keep those ladies waiting, right?" "Right," Alec said slowly, he'd always imagined that Chris would be more social and outgoing and less distracted. He seemed really put together and focused when he was on the radio or on TV, he figured he had a lot on his mind tonight, "I'll see you later tonight." "We don't have to stay the entire night, do we?" Jake asked when Chris got back to the table. Parties were never really his scene, never really Chris' either, but tonight it was all about him and Natalie. "Do we ever?" Chris asked, grinning as he grabbed Jake's hand and pull him up, "I'm done for the night. Let's get out of here." Jake smiled, leading the two of them out past tables of people still eating their dessert. At last count, they'd already earned enough money to make the event worth it, Chris figured an early exit wouldn't hurt anyone. Quickly, they slipped out and Jake fumbled in his pockets for the valet slip. "Wasn't so bad, right? The chocolate cake sort of made it worth it." "I didn't get any, you ate mine," Chris said, hand running down Jake's arm. "I'll make it up to you when we get back," Jake whispered, lips grazing his ear, breath hot against Chris' skin, "it'll be worth your while." *** Chris read the note again, handwritten on thick cardstock, cursive penmanship precise and sure. Alexander Clarkson had taste--that was for sure. His stationary was monogrammed, letter-pressed with the return address along the bottom. Correspondence cards? Chris felt like he was back in the days before e-mail and cell-phones. Alexander really was a blueblood and this only proved it. He slipped the note into a drawer, figuring he'd have to sit and write a card back, not just call to say sorry for ditching the social. Watching his old fan oscillate on his desk, he grabbed his pen, not sure where to start. "How long does this intro have to be?" Jake asked, leaning against the doorframe. He stepped in the room, straightening the stack of old books Chris used to prop up the vintage fan. Another gift from Maggie, everything cool at the house was. He needed the fan for the summer, where it could get stuffy in the studio and he needed a space heater for the winter, when it got a little cold. "However long," Chris said, "just stop when you're finished. That's how it works." Leaning over the desk, Jake's lips grazed Chris' forehead, leaving a soft kiss in their wake before trailing down to Chris' lips. Chris' hand ran over Jake's jaw, the familiar scratch of stubble on his fingers as he held Jake steady. "Neither of us are going to get anything done if we keep this up," Jake whispered. "Then you should stop," Chris said, kissing Jake lightly on the jaw, his cheek rubbing against the scratchiness of Jake's beard. "You know I can't stop when I get started," Jake said, chuckling. Chris got out of his chair, the cool breeze from the fan sweeping over both their bodies as Chris pressed up against Jake, their lips coming together one more time. Chris' hand slid up under Jake's t-shirt, fingers rubbing warm skin. "That's how I am with my writing," Chris said, grinning, fingertips tracing Jake's bellybutton before grazing the waistband of his underwear, "but you knew that." Jake reached over and shut Chris' laptop, the click echoing through the studio as the fan blew cool air over their bodies, Jake's lips crashing down onto Chris' as his hands wrapped around Chris' chest. "I need some inspiration," Jake said, smiling as he pulled Chris' shirt off, tongue slipping past Chris' lips. Chris nodded, hands slipping into Jake's shorts, pulling a low groan from his lips; it was a good start. --- Feedback? christopherrluu@gmail.com or iChat/AIM babyofthe1980s