Date: Sat, 24 Jun 2006 22:28:39 -0700 From: christopher. Subject: breaking through part 23 Usual disclaimers apply. This is fictional. There are rules against reading this, don't do it if you're not allowed. Author's Note: Thanks for everyone who reads, first of all, and then a special thank you to those who take the time to write comments back. Feedback is great! I'll take anything. Send rants/thoughts/ideas/comments to christopherrluu@gmail.com and I'll get back to you. AIM/iChat screen name is babyofthe1980s if you want to chat about anything. I look forward to new voices and old ones alike. Breaking Through is the winner of the 2006 Nifty Boy Band Story Award for "Best Non- Boyband Story." Part XXIII "This is ridiculous," Chris said, rolling his eyes, "you can't just give the story a happy ending." He threw the script down onto the coffee table, harder than he'd meant to, "I don't care if the audience riots after the movie, you can't not have John kill himself, what does the story mean if he doesn't? It's the whole point." A thunderclap shook the both of them and Chris' eyes shot to the window, sky gray and rain still pouring down. It had been the same incessant rain for the past two days. "I didn't write it, Chris. This is why I wanted you to read it, you'd know better than me how much they screwed it up." "They didn't screw it up, they jut wrote something entirely different. It's like an after-school special version of the book." "So tell me, yes or no?" He moved in closer to Chris, hands on Chris' biceps, their foreheads pressed together. Chris couldn't look Jake in the eye, he didn't know why Jake was letting him make this decision, what Jake did was completely up to him, he didn't have anything to do with it. "I don't know." "Yeah you do," Jake said, "it's really that bad?" "Awful. I can't believe things like this get written." "I'm out. That's it, I'll call Dean later, tell him to send me more scripts that aren't shit." "Just like that?" "I can't be responsible for messing up something sacred. It means a lot to you, I'm sure it means something to more than just you." "Mess up something else," Chris said, "leave good books alone. There are bad ones that can be made into movies." He kissed Jake on the nose, hand sliding up his stomach. "I can't wait for this rain to let up." "I love the rain," Chris said, "it got last night cancelled." Chris pulled Jake towards the door of the balcony, fingers pressed against the cool glass. He pushed the door open, a burst of cold air rushing past their bodies. Chris stepped out, the drops of rain landing on his shoulders and hair. Jake followed, wrapping his arms around Chris' chest, lips at his neck. The heavy drops of water matted Jake's thick hair, his shirt becoming heavy; Chris' warm body against his as the cool water fell on both of them. "I love you," Jake whispered, "love you so much." Chris pressed their lips together, his hands resting on Jake's shoulders, chests tight against each other. Jake's lips parted Chris', their tongues sliding together as Jake's hand tangled in Chris' hair, both of them dripping from the rainstorm, Chris' pressing as close to Jake as he could. His hand ran over Jake's jaw, stubble against his fingers as they kissed, thunder echoing through the city, bouncing off the buildings as Jake pushed Chris' hair back, their lips connecting, bodies moving together. Chris shuddered when Jake's hand ran under his shirt, fingers spreading warmth through his body as Jake pulled the rain-soaked shirt from his skin. Jake groaned as Chris' lips connected with his neck, hands at his waist now, water dripping off their bodies, "I'm yours, Jake." *** Untangling himself from Chris' body, Jake slipped out of the warm bed, a chill enveloping his body as he rummaged for something to wear. The rain hadn't let up at all, still falling in steady sheets as the city, gray and gloomy, sat under the unrelenting downpour. Slowly, Jake crept out of the bedroom, one of Chris' soft cashmere sweaters pulled over his head as he grabbed a pair of boxer shorts from the floor. He glanced at his phone to find no messages, no missed calls, nothing from anyone. Chris' phone was equally lifeless, but there was a message waiting for them on the hotel phone; glancing back at the bedroom, Jake watched the steady rise and fall of Chris' chest, quietly shutting the door as he grabbed the handset. It was from Maggie, she'd gotten her ticket up. Jake sighed, suddenly tense. It was all real now, there was no backing out of it. Erasing the message, the incessant red light halted, no excuses left. Jake ran his fingers through his hair, sitting back on the couch, the coffee table littered with books Chris had brought and bought, but there was one thing missing: his laptop. Chris was taking his break seriously, more seriously than Jake had ever seen. He wrote little things in his journal, but he wasn't doing anything work-related at all apart from selling himself to the movers and shakers of the literary world. Jake, on the other hand, had turned down another script and was right back to looking for work. He had offers, but bad movies were a dime a dozen and he didn't want to do anything like that anymore. He wanted something that he could be really proud of, something that Chris could be proud of, too. Dean was looking high and low for something literary; something modern and fresh, and something that had the prestige of the Kerouac movie without being so highbrow that it turned people off. It was a hard balance to find and he was bearing the brunt of it. "I got your message," Jake said, his phone pressed against his ear. "It's raining up there, right?" "Cats and dogs," Jake said, "Maggie, I'm scared." "Lightning and thunder, too? You're not six anymore. Mom can't get you to back to sleep when the noises wake you up." "Seriously," Jake said, "I love him. He's just...sometimes I don't know." "Don't know what? You're asking him a question and if he says 'no,' it doesn't mean that you're over. It just means that he's not ready." Jake nodded, "Peter's there with you?" "He started crying when I told him why we were going up there," Maggie said, "you know how sappy he can get." "How did he ask you?" "Down on one knee. He's into doing things like in old movies." "And you said yes, no second thoughts?" "We were practically married already," Maggie said, "I was just excited, nobody says no. He won't say no." "I know he won't, but I don't know if it's what he really wants." "Only he knows that." Jake paused, Maggie was full of sage wisdom when he bothered to listen to it, "I hate when you talk to me like that." "You hate it when I'm right." Jake's head jerked to the door of the bedroom when he heard it open, Chris stepping out, hair messy and eyes still sleepy as he walked over, kissing Jake on the forehead before laying down on the couch, head in Jake's lap. It was like he was sleepwalking, his soft breathing and steady heartbeat unchanged as he floated back to sleep in just a few moments. Jake watched in amazement, holding his breath. He smoothed Chris' hair with his free hand; feeling his body settle into the cushions, warm breaths blowing across Jake's lap. "Are you there?" Maggie asked. "Yeah," Jake said softly, "sorry...um, call me if anything comes up. I love you, Chris does, too." "You don't have anything to worry about." "I know, I know." *** "I feel like writing, today especially, is important because our voices are so different from the people who've influenced us. There's not going to be another Shakespeare or even another Salinger. We're finding our voices and our audience," Chris said, making sure to sit up straight. He didn't want to look as nervous as he felt. He was the youngest one on the panel, every single question was getting directed to him and he could almost feel the other writers growing anxious. "How would you describe your voice and why is it so different?" "I'll tell you when I find out," Chris said, eliciting a chuckle from the rest of the panel and the audience, "Mrs. Kingston should answer, her work actually helped me find mine." As Maxine Kingston answered, Chris took a sip of water, his eyes focused on the audience, tape recorders at the ready, pens flying across yellow legal pads. It was the last event for the trip and he couldn't wait for it to be over. "What do you feel the relationship between film and literature should be?" Chris froze. The question was obviously for him, but he was sure everyone else had something to say. It was a touchy subject for every writer, could be a blessing or a curse. "I like movies," Chris heard. It was Michael Chabon. If anyone was the expert on this subject, it was him. "I just prefer them to be separate from books. I write scripts and I write books, they're completely different. There are bad adaptations, we've all seen those, and there are great ones, like Christopher's. He knew what he wanted and he wrote it. That's when it works. When you relinquish control, that's when everyone's disappointed." "What about when the author has no say?" Chris asked, "what do we do as writers when something sacred is about to be ruined?" "We were just talking about that," Michael said to the audience, "so Chris and I agreed that it's up to us, writers that are also passionate about film, to make sure things like Shakespeare and Austen are properly represented. We can't let anyone with money make an awful movie." "People read books after they see the movie or before it sometimes, too. We don't want them getting turned off by an awful movie. So writers adapting books have a responsibility to the audience and the book," Chris said. "You've worked to promote literacy," another reporter started, "targeting young adults. How do you feel about writers targeting that audience? Do they have a weight heavier than your own?" "He wouldn't know," came a voice from the end of the table. Chris glanced over and saw that Stephanie had made her way through the crowd, standing in front of the long table. The reporters looked confused, but they kept writing. "Christopher Lewis writes and you pay attention. Right away he went from nobody to attention grabber, so he's never had to struggle." "That has nothing to do with the question," Chris said, "it's important to get teenagers to read because those are formative years. You learn to love books or hate books because of school and required reading." "You can't talk about something you know nothing about," Stephanie said. "If you want attention, you got it. Are you finished?" Michael said, his usually calm voice suddenly stern, "this is isn't the time or the place. You're wasting everyone's time and your own." Chris was so grateful that Michael stepped in, relieved that someone else saw right through her. "All writers struggle to find their voice. If you don't have to face adversity, your voice is weak. If you blame others for your own shortcomings, you haven't faced the reality of writing: you can't make everyone happy," Maxine said. It was so sudden and clear that Chris wasn't sure he even understood what she said. It seemed to do the trick though, Stephanie backed down, suddenly realizing that nobody was on her side, not even her husband. Joe had no idea what was going on, didn't understand what it was like to try and go from one genre to another. She thought that she'd be able to garner some support, thought that everyone felt the sting of rejection. The truth was that everyone had felt the sting, they just moved on where she wallowed in her own misery. It was just that she tried so hard and she got so close. Everyone could see it but her: Chris' writing was really what the New Yorker was all about, making new fiction accessible for everyone, whether they understood it or not. "Thanks for your time," Michael said, "all of us appreciate you coming to the panel. Thanks to the Pacific-Union Humanities Guild for setting this all up and for getting us together. Let's do it again." Chris waited for Michael to stand up, following him off the stage. "Thanks for that, Mike. She's been chewing me out everywhere I go. I don't get it." "You're living the dream, Christopher, you shouldn't be surprised that other people want what you have." "I'm lucky, but I'm not anything special." "People wait lifetimes to get where you're at. You're twenty-three. Movies, books, Hollywood, you've got good friends, don't take it for granted. Remember what I'm saying, okay?" "Thanks for everything," Chris said, shaking his hand one last time. Michael walked away and Chris leaned against the wall, watching the reporters file out, shaking hands and saying 'Thank You' to anyone that glanced his way. It was finally over. Work was out of his mind and now he and Jake could just spend the rest of their trip seeing the city. "I'm sorry about her, I had no idea," Joe said, shaking Chris' hand, "she'll kill me if she sees me talking to you, but I think that she was just so angry and you were the only person to project it at, logical or not." "There was a lot going on, I had to beg and plead to get that story out. I was so worried about what that story meant to me that I didn't know it would push someone out of the magazine," Chris said, "well I knew, but there was no way of knowing who it was or what would happen." "She'll calm down," Joe said. "For your sake, I hope she does." "You were great up there. Really natural, really smart." Chris felt himself blush. Brushing his hair off his forehead, he reached out to shake Joe's hand, "Thank you." "I'll make sure she stays out of your way, she'll get over it." *** Jake watched as Chris took off his jacket, laying it neatly over a chair before unbuttoning his shirt, slacks falling to the floor in a smooth drop of fabric. Movements smooth and graceful, Chris remained oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, Jake's eyes barely hovering over the top of his book. "I'll be really quick," Chris said, "we have to get out while the weather's cooperating." He toed off his shoes and stepped into the bathroom, the sound of splashing water echoing out through the open door. Jake put his book down, the light from the open window catching the platinum of his pinky ring as he grabbed a pair of jeans from the open suitcase. He'd been busy all morning, planning this and that, calling Maggie again, calling Natalie to make sure she could make it. It was going to be perfect, Jake didn't care if he had to stop the rain himself, he'd do it for Chris. Slipping on the jeans, he rifled through his suitcase. He felt it, the hard velvet box hidden in his messy pile of underwear and socks. It sent a nervous shiver through his body. His usual cool confidence completely shot to pieces every single time he thought about all the ways it could go wrong. Chris could think he was crazy, could say no and break the entire thing off if he felt like Jake was cornering him into commitment. Jake remembered the first promise, the candles, the rings, the way Chris clung to his body and how he felt like something had definitely shifted between them. It was real, they'd made a commitment, they'd done exactly what Chris needed at the time, but now it was Jake's turn. He needed more. He needed something deeper. He needed to show Chris that they were going to be together forever and that he didn't even think about life without thinking about Chris, too. Waking, sleeping, dreaming, even breathing--Jake couldn't imagine any of it without Chris by his side, in his heart. Running the script in his head, he tried his best to remember what he told himself he'd say. He wanted it to be perfect, ever word chosen with care, every emotion laid out for Chris to hear. Jake knew it wasn't going to be easy, Chris was the writer after all, he knew how to use words to their fullest, not Jake. He was going to try his best, hoping that Chris would be able to see it through the nervousness. "What's taking so long?" Chris asked, arms wrapping around Jake's chest. Jake smiled, Chris smelled clean, soapy and fresh right out of the shower. His skin was dewy and soft, Jake's warm body pressed against him, fingers running over the hairs dusting Jake's chest. "Let me just get a shirt on and I'll be done," Jake said, bringing Chris' wrist up to his lips, "you're not even dressed." "I won't take long," Chris whispered, kissing the back of Jake's neck, nose running through his thick hair, "it feels so good to be done with all this." His hands ran down Jake's chest as Jake lay his head back onto Chris' shoulder. "I've got you to myself now," Jake said, grinning, he reached up to pull Chris down for a kiss, their lips lightly grazing over one another. "You and the city," Chris said, "I'll split my time." Jake smiled as he got up, shutting his suitcase with his foot as he turned around, hands running down Chris' back. "It can be the three of us, I don't mind being the third wheel," Jake said. He kissed Chris' forehead, hands sliding to rest on Chris' waist for just a second. He brought their lips together one more time, "Let's get out there, it's waiting for us." Chris grinned, "I have to take you to Baker Beach." "We have the beach at home," Jake said as he pulled a blue hoodie on. "Nothing like this one though," Chris said, "we'll see a side of San Francisco that you won't see unless you know someone that knows." *** Jake ran his fingers through Chris' hair, brushing the long strands off of his forehead as he dug his toes into the cool sand. Just like at home, they'd managed to find a secluded spot away from the families walking their dogs and the locals who had found a few minutes to enjoy the waves and the breeze. Chris leaned back onto Jake's chest, his fingers tangled in Jake's free hand, both of them tired from the seeing the sights and walking up and down the city's hills. "This is most definitely a different side of the city," Jake said, eyes fixed on the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of the usual view, from the city out over the bridge to the ocean, they were looking at the city from the other side of the bridge, the high-rises set against a backdrop of mountains. "I wrote part of my first book here," Chris said, "a bunch of short stories, it's just quiet and cold, I remember my fingers practically freezing off from how cold the wind was." "Right here?" Jake asked, holding him tighter. "Not right here exactly...more over there," he said, pointing to the main part of the beach. "Weird being back?" "Surreal," Chris said, "I haven't been back since I graduated." "Seeing you here, it's hard not to see why you don't live here." "It's not home. I need to stay where my roots are. I just can't see myself anywhere else. We go all over, but as long as I know we're coming back home, I'm okay. I can't imagine not being in Santa Barbara." "No, you're different here. I can see it. You have ideas in your head, you have places to go, you have a passion here." "I have you, that's why I'm like. I have you to show things to, it's like how you know all the places in LA, it's me in a place I know." "No, it's different," Jake said, "a part of you is here." "Yeah, I'm all over. Part of me is here, most of me is in Santa Barbara, but a big chunk of me is right in here," Chris said as he turned around, his hand resting against Jake's heart, "more and more of me every day." He leaned down, lips grazing Jake's lightly, Jake resting his hands on the small of Chris' back. "You're going to miss it if you're not careful," Jake said, motioning towards the setting sun, "but I'm not going to stop you." He pushed his lips against Chris', his eyes shutting behind his dark sunglasses. Chris pulled away, turning around and settling back into Jake's body, "There's no place I'd rather be right now." His voice was low, barely a whisper. His eyes were fixed on the sun, slowly dipping below the water, cold wind blowing against his face and Jake's steady heartbeat at his back. Jake pressed his nose into Chris' hair: hearing, smelling, touching, seeing, tasting; every sense seemed to associate itself with Chris now. Jake could hear his steady breathing, more being said in the silence between them than anyone could know, smell his light cologne mixing with the smell of the salty seawater, feel him against his body, warm and soft, taste him on his lips. He couldn't imagine it any other way. He felt like he knew Chris' body just as well as his own, knew every curve, knew exactly what Chris was feeling or thinking almost all the time without even having to hear him say anything, he could just tell. As the sun filled the sky with a fiery red light, Jake felt Chris sigh, felt his body almost melt into his own. Jake grabbed Chris' hands, fingers intertwining. The cold metal of Chris' ring pressed into his palm and he held Chris tighter, "Almost there," he whispered. Chris nodded, eyes fixed on where sky, sun, and surf all came together. The sky burst bright, one last gasp of light filling his and Jake's eyes before the sun became just a sliver sinking below the water. Another one down, Chris thought. He couldn't get enough of it, loved to watch the sun set so much because he knew that it would come up again the next day, light shining down as his eyes fluttered open to see Jake lying there with him, no matter what tangled mass they'd become. He used to think that the sun was the one thing that stayed constant in his life, but now he knew that there were at least two things: the sun and Jake. *** "Thanks for inviting me for lunch," Alec said, "I always thought that this was something tourists did, but obviously they do it for good reason." Chris nodded, Jake slurping the last of his clam chowder. They were sitting on a booth, the smell of the ocean mixed with the smell of bread baking. Clam chowder and sourdough bread were in everyone's hands, warming bodies chilled by the wind. He thought it was something only tourists did too, but he and Jake were just that. San Francisco wasn't their home. "It's our 'thank you' to you," Chris said, "you and your mom did a lot for me. Clam chowder doesn't compare to setting up seminars, panels, and galas though." "It's what she does," Alec said. "Alec, what do you do?" Jake asked, "help your mom out with her events?" "For the most part, it's all she'll let me do," Alec said, "I'd like to get into the business, maybe start writing someday, but nothing like what Chris does. I'm more of a behind-the-scenes person. I love literature, I want to be a part of it." "I'd love to read anything you've written," Chris said, "I'm sure you want some opinions on it, right?" "From you especially," Alec said, "that would be amazing." "Chris is full of opinions," Jake said, grinning. He still didn't know what to do about his introduction. On one hand, it was scary to think that there'd be a permanent piece of his work out there, something that people would either love or hate, but on the other hand, he was so excited to be working on something with Chris, something that they'd have forever. Chris didn't seem set on dipping his toes into movies again, so if this was the only chance Jake would have, he'd run with it. "You guys are leaving tomorrow?" "Yeah, so we have to get back to the hotel and pack," Chris said. "You don't know what it meant for Chris to get back up here," Jake said, "he's been happier than I've seen him in a while." "And it gave me a chance to show Jake some new places," Chris said. "Just keep up the good work and I'll make sure mom gets you up here," Alec said, "now that she's had some face time with you, you'll probably be hearing from her all the time." Chris grinned, tossing his crumbs to the pigeons that gathered at their feet. He looked over at Jake, smiling wide as the sound of soft cooing filled the air. It was then, in the simplicity of it all; that he realized that there was something missing. He was happy, he was with Jake, and he wasn't worried about people taking pictures of them because there wasn't one photographer in sight apart from tourists and their point-and-shoots. "You're going far," Alec said, "both of you. I'm just glad I got to see you guys while you were on the rise." He got up, smiling at the both of them. He offered his hand and Jake took it first, grip firm as he shook. Chris followed suit and soon they were alone with the wind and the pigeons, sun bright in the sky. "He's a good guy," Jake said, "he just has to get away from that mom of his." "It's up to him," Chris said, "maybe he's just used to having her around. She's overbearing, but if he wants to get into the industry, I can't think of anyone better to be connected to." "We have to get back to the hotel, Chris," Jake said, getting up, "how much do you miss home?" "Not as much as I thought I would." "If I don't get back to our bed soon, I'm going to go crazy," Jake said, "I just can't get used to these hotel beds." Chris got up, smoothing his jacket as he followed Jake towards the line of taxis waiting by Pier 39. He waved one down and soon they were zooming towards the hotel, a lazy smile on Jake's face as he watched Chris' eyes take everything in, every old building, every hill, everything like it was the last time he'd ever see it. Chris turned and caught Jake's eyes, blue as the sky. "It's not going anywhere. We can come back anytime. It's just a plane ride away." "But this is the first time we've been here together. Remember New York? That picture of us on Maggie's stoop? First times are...they're first times. They're different." "Over a year and we're still having firsts?" Jake asked, "who'd have thought?" Chris opened the door as the taxi stopped right in front of the hotel's revolving doors. A newspaper stand caught his eye and he grabbed a copy of the Chronicle, handing money to the bellhop as he and Jake walked towards the elevator, "Something's off about this paper today." "Let me see," Jake said as he grabbed the newspaper. He read newspapers every day, at home or away from it, and there was definitely something different about the front page. "There's no picture." Chris glanced at it and noticed that Jake was right. There was a huge block of text covering the entire page, no picture to catch the attention of passersby. "Winnie Clarkson declares that photographers seeking candid photographs in her hometown of San Francisco without their consent are vultures, threatens to sever ties with Conde Nast and Hearst Publications if they continue to support unsolicited photography." Jake kept reading, the huge article covered the entire front page. Chris watched intently, hoping Jake would pull some good lines from it, anything to figure out the puzzle, "It says 'An anonymous tip from a local gave Los Angeles-based photographers the heads up that actor Jake Gyllenhaal was in the city with friend Christopher Lewis, who was a featured guest for the Pacific-Union Humanities Guild. Other supporters of the arts steered clear of the photographers, who seemed most intent on capturing images of Gyllenhaal.' This is crazy. It had to be that crazy girl you pushed out of the New Yorker." "Are you kidding me?" Chris asked, "she's got some balls on her to do this. Fuck, she tells me that writers should give each other equal opportunity and then she calls the photographers?" "Winnie Clarkson's got some balls on her too, and thank God for that," Jake said, "we should send her flowers. She literally kicked out the paparazzi. I can't believe it." The doors of the elevator slid open and Chris stepped out, every time he managed to remember what floor they were on and exactly where to turn and what door was theirs, it was the last day of the trip. He felt Jake's hands on his waist as he slipped the keycard into the slot and the bolt clicked, "I thought this trip would be bad," Jake said, "but seeing you like this is amazing. This was awesome." "Part of me doesn't want to leave," Chris said, "I love home, I love that we have the beach and that nobody cares about us, but here there's just more. More life to live up here, it's so different. It's dynamic." "I remember someone that used to love routine," Jake said, wrapping his arms around Chris, "I remember someone who woke up the same time every day, someone who would walk through the doors of the Starbuck's on the corner at the same time, rain or shine. Now I see someone talking about dynamic cities? I love you so much." "A lot's changed," Chris said, turning to face Jake, "for me and for you. And for us." He leaned in and gave Jake a kiss, lips lingering even as Jake pulled away to get his jacket off, Chris slipping his own down off of his shoulders. "I can't go back to that now that you're with me. We set up new routines." Jake's eye met Chris', dark and warm, and he raised his hand to brush the hairs off of Chris' forehead, "We're together now. We're connected," Jake said as he raised Chris' hand, the shiny ring glistening in the light, "I've never loved someone like I love you. When we're apart, all I can think about is you. When we're together, all I can think about is you. I don't want there to even be a me if you're not there." "Jake," Chris said, pressing their cheeks together, Chris' lips at his ear, "I'm yours. For today, tomorrow, every day after that--I'm yours." *** Jake was so nervous that he was practically shaking, his palms sweaty and his heart racing. "It'll be alright," Maggie said, "Peter's going to get him here in one piece." "I'm going to screw up," Jake said, "I can memorize lines in no time but I can't get the words out." Maggie ran her hand up Jake's arm, doing her best to sooth the fears, "He's not looking for a script, Jake, just let it come out." Jake nodded and watched the winding steps at the top of the bluff. No sign of either of them. The salty wind blew through Maggie's hair and chilled his skin, but Chris had been so happy at Baker Beach that Jake knew instantly that it was where he wanted it to happen. "Shit, what's taking so long?" "Calm down," Maggie said, rolling her eyes. She turned around, the sun was just about to set and Jake was so set on doing it right as the sky was bright red that even she was starting to worry about Peter's tardiness. "I see him," Jake said, his posture relaxing. He saw Peter rushing down the stairs, skipping some entirely as he bolted down towards the beach. "Where's Chris?" Peter was breathing heavily, almost doubled over as he tried to catch his breath from the sprint. "He saw me and he gave me this," he said as he reached into his pocket. He handed the sealed envelope to Jake, "and he said that he knew what was going on and that he couldn't." Jake felt Maggie's hands grab his arm, struggling to look over at the note as Jake tore it open, "What does it say?" "Fuck," Jake said, raising his hands to grab Peter by the shoulders, "what the hell do you mean he couldn't?" His blue eyes were angry, his body shaking even more than it was before. "He just ran away," Peter said, straightening, "it was over before I could do anything." Jake's eyes scanned the note, Chris' narrow penmanship as precise and controlled as it always was. Jake's eyes were blurred with tears, but as he wiped them away with the back of his hands, he almost wished that he couldn't read it: Jake, I'm so sorry. I'm too confused. I love you. -Christopher. Peter rushed to Jake's side as he fell to his knees, his body racked by sobs. It wasn't the first time that Chris had made him cry, but it hit so hard so fast that he couldn't control it. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in Peter's shoulder, Maggie running a soothing hand down his back. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Jake thought, this wasn't in the script. In one line, Chris had broken his heart. "Jake, he doesn't mean it. It just came out of nowhere," Maggie said, "he didn't know how to react." "He ran away," Jake said, his voice shaky, "I pushed him too hard. He didn't want it. I fucked up." "No, he's just not ready," Peter said, "we were all pushing for you, but he's not gone for good." Peter an Maggie both waited for Jake's response. Was Chris gone for good? Nobody was sure, but that wasn't what Jake needed to hear. "He's not gone," Jake said, shaking himself to gain some semblance of composure, "he just got scared." Peter helped Jake up and he brushed the sand off his jeans, "Let's get you back to the hotel," Peter said, "he'll be there waiting for you. I'm sure if you ask him then, he'll just fall back into your arms." "He's not gone," Maggie said, she'd never seen her brother so shaken, it was like the world had crumbled under his feet and he was still struggling for some footing, "he's just letting the idea settle in that thick head of his." "No," Jake said voice still unsure, "he's not like that. You were right, he's young and he's still figuring out what he wants." "He wants to be with you," Maggie said, "we all know that." Slowly, the three of them walked up the winding wooden stairs, Jake couldn't bear to look back at the sand and the surf, something he loved so much now tainted with fear and uncertainty. "Jake, your phone is ringing," Maggie said as she reached into her purse. She pulled it out and handed it to him without glancing at the screen. Jake didn't recognize the phone number, but it was from LA, he cold tell from the area code. "I don't care right now. They'll leave a message if it's important." Maggie slipped the phone back into her purse as they reached the top of the bluff, grabbing his hand as they walked towards the taxi stop, "It's going to be okay," Peter said, "I mean it. If anyone's going to get through it, you two will." "It's ringing again, Jake," Maggie said, the frustration evident in her voice. Jake snatched the phone from her hand, "Hello?" his tone was curt and aggravated. "He ran right into my arms, Jake. You push him too hard and he comes running." Jake froze, the voice was familiar, full of a smug confidence. "Grace? What are you talking about? How could he..." Jake thought he heard a chuckle, "Sorry, Gyllenhaal. Winner takes all." Jake's eyes shot open, but a weight on his chest kept him from shooting straight up, his breathing was heavy and his brow was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Chris was still asleep, head resting on Jake's chest, one hand clutching Jake's shoulder as his body rose and fell with Jake's deep breaths. Jake wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand, calming down as he ran his hand over Chris' back and his breathing settled. Chris let out a low "Mmmm," when Jake brushed the hair off his forehead, his body scooting just a little closer to Jake's as he kept sleeping. It was amazing, Jake thought, Chris could sleep through almost anything. Jake wondered what was going on in his head, what dreams were flying through his brain. There was a reason his six short stories focused on the subject, there had to be something about the unruliness of it. Anything could happen, they could be serene and beautiful or they could be unpredictable and frightening. Chris had nightmares, Jake knew, he just wished that there was some way to keep those bad dreams from Chris' head. If there was something he wanted to do more than anything else, he wanted to make sure that Chris was never scared again. "Is it morning already?" Chris asked, his eyes still closed and his voice quiet. Jake's fingers, soothing as they were, sent a tingle down his back. Chris felt Jake's nose nuzzle into his hair, lips kissing his forehead, "No," Jake whispered as he stroked Chris' supple body, "go back to sleep." He'd take every nightmare if it meant Chris would sleep like this every night, deep and heavy, oblivious to everything but the beating of Jake's heart under him. *** "Thank you. Sorry you had to wait for that," Chris said as he handed the messenger a tip. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to tip him for delivering a fax, but the weight of the package seemed to merit at least a few dollars. Chris opened the distended manila envelope, pulling the entire stack of paper out as he walked towards the table. Confused, he looked at the front of the envelope--it was from Alec. Sitting down, he started reading, surprised to find that it was a manuscript, Alec's little project over three hundred pages long. Chris couldn't believe he took the time to fax the entire thing to the hotel. Chris heard Jake in the other room, still talking about the adaptation of Brave New World. The studio wanted him to be on board and was willing to do re-writes after Jake had pulled out, but even that wasn't enough to seal the deal. Chris didn't know how Jake was going to handle it, but as long as they didn't change the entire thing, he didn't care whether Jake did it or not. It would be filming in LA, so at least they wouldn't be apart. A spark of excitement lit up in Chris as he started reading, if it was good, he'd be one of the first people to have read it, he felt like he was discovering a new voice. "Chris?" Jake yelled from the bedroom, his voice was almost frantic. "How would it work if they changed the sequence in the middle of the book? Too many drug references," Jake said, finger covering the receiver. Chris shrugged, it could work if they did it right, but from what he'd read of the script that had gotten approved by the studio, they were probably going to do it wrong. "I don't know. It's happiness in a bottle, it's a big deal in the book." Jake nodded, his expression calming, "They're going crazy about this movie. They really want it made." "You can figure it out," Chris said. "Stay here," Jake said, eyes pleading, "I have questions. I feel like a dumbass because I can't even keep the story straight in my head when I'm talking about it." Chris nodded, holding up a finger as Jake smiled and removed his hand from the phone. Chris could still hear the "uh-huh's" coming from the bedroom as he grabbed a stack of pages from the manuscript. Jake's fingers ran through Chris' hair as he read, the studio pitching the movie to him again, this time staying truer to Huxley's original, willing to do re-writes for scenes that deviated too much or seemed to lose their impact. Chris read as Jake talked, page after page of awful, uncontrolled, clumsy writing. Alec had the passion, that was obvious, but his background in business seemed to permeate his work: it was clinical and cold, the story was already predictable and relied on formulaic plot progression and stock characters, it fell into every trap that Chris had learned about in his classes. It was the work of a novice and that was evidence enough that Alec needed to throw it out and start all over. "A million words," one of Chris' professors would say, "you write your first million, pay your dues. Throw out that first one million words and then you've got something." Alec might have written a million words from the looks of the manuscript, but he wasn't going to throw them out. "What are you reading?" Jake whispered. He was starting to fidget, restless from the constant talk about this movie. "Alec Clarkson's masterpiece," Chris said, putting the paper down, he couldn't bear to read any more, scooting behind Jake, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone still stuck under one ear. Chris ran his hands up Jake's arms, feeling how tense and stiff they were. This was supposed to be sort of a vacation for him, but work seemed to invade even the most well-planned distractions. Chris' lips attached to the back of Jake's neck, kissing softly as his hands ran under Jake's t-shirt, fingers gliding over downy hair and tight muscle. "They'll say anything to get you on board," Chris whispered, "can you make them send you the new script?" Jake nodded and Chris felt him shudder as his fingers grazed nipples, "That's it, get the script to me and we'll talk again later," Jake said. Chris couldn't make out what they were saying, but Jake relaxed against his body as soon as he hung up the phone. "How's the reading?" "I don't want to talk about it," Chris said, pushing Jake down onto the bed. He heard the crumbling of paper under their bodies as he settled on top of Jake, their lips coming together as Jake's hands slid down Chris' back. "Jealous of the competition?" Jake joked, fingertips grazing bare skin at Chris' waist. "Competition?" Chris asked, lips on Jake's neck, "the only person I have to impress is you." "You're lucky that I'm easy," Jake said. Chris smiled and Jake rolled them over, pushing the sheets of paper to the floor, "and that I love everything you do." Chris smiled and let Jake's body settle on top of him, the pleasant weight, the familiarity, the comfortable ease of it all washing over him. "You're everything to me, Jake, you know that, right?" "Shhhhh," Jake whispered, "just one more minute before we go." Chris nodded, "Where are we going?" "Anywhere," Jake said, his voice barely a whisper, "I dream and you're with me wherever I go." "I'm with you even when you're awake," Chris said, hands at the back of Jake's neck, "I'm not going anywhere." Jake heard Chris' phone ring in the other room, the harsh sound of vibrating plastic against wood, but Chris seemed unfazed, more content to lie there, their bodies melting together as Jake pulled Chris in closer. The world could wait when they were like this, Jake thought, Chris moved a little, settling into the crook of Jake's neck, his hand tracing lazy patterns on Jake's chest as they just let the world disappear. It was the two of them and nothing else. *** "You want the regular?" the clerk asked Chris, he'd only been getting bagels there for a little over a week and he already had a regular? He really was going to miss San Francisco. "Same as always," Chris said, "thanks." He'd packed up everything the night before, Jake on the phone with Dean about scripts and negotiating things that Chris didn't understand. Movies weren't his place, he got a taste of it and didn't want anything else to do with it. He was done and unless something amazing came up, he wasn't even going to think about involving himself with that anymore. Smiling, he grabbed the bag of bagels and headed out, the morning sky still gray with the fog, the warm sun struggling to get through the clouds. Chris pulled his phone out, his watch packed away with the other things he'd put away last night. It was still early, too early for anyone to be out but joggers and people out walking their dogs. Chris walked back towards the hotel, soaking in everything in the early morning light. It would still be there if they came back, Chris knew that, but right now it was magical. He and Jake had experienced it together and because of that, everything seemed to have an ephemeral glow, memories were made and Chris couldn't wait to get them down in writing. He kissed his hand, slapping the wall of the hotel with his fingers, "Thanks for the memories, old fella." Sighing, Chris got into the elevator, a sense of finality washing over him. This was the last time he'd get to walk the streets, last time he'd go up this elevator, last time he'd get to see the entire city from the big picture window of their suite. He opened the door, quietly shutting it behind him as he walked in. "In here," Jake said from the bedroom, "have you seen my black jacket? The canvas one, it's sort of a blazer." Chris put the food down on the table as he walked towards the bedroom. He saw Jake, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, rifling through the clothes he worked so hard to pack the night before, "I'll get it for you." "Sorry, I just wanted to wear it today," Jake said, sitting down on the floor, "thanks for getting breakfast." He ran a hand over Chris' shoulder blades when he kneeled down next to the open suitcase, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Getting dressed up for the plane ride?" "I brought it up to wear, didn't get a chance at the fancy parties we went to," Jake said, his voice soft. Chris pulled it out from under everything else and handed it to Jake, stacking all the other clothes back on top and zipping the suitcase shut with an expert ease. "What time does our flight leave?" "Don't worry about it," Jake said, "we're ready to go whenever we need to." Jake pulled Chris up off the floor. Chris headed back out, but Jake pulled him in close, their foreheads pressed together as Chris ran his hands up Jake's chest, fingers sliding over taut muscle. Chris' eyes shut as Jake pulled their lips together, their bodies crashing together in familiar curves and grooves. "Golden Gate Park is calling my name. I have to see it one more time before we go," Jake whispered. "Yeah?" Chris asked, excited, "we can eat on the bus. Or the taxi, whatever you want." "Whatever will get us there the fastest," Jake said, "we have time, but we don't have all day to spend there." Chris couldn't hold in his elation. He didn't think he'd get to see any more of the city, but Jake was excited too, Chris could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. "Get that jacket on then, let's get going." He leaned against the doorframe and watched as Jake slipped on a v-neck t- shirt, a trace chest hair peeking above the collar. "Should I get dressed up too?" he asked, stepping towards Jake again. "No, you look good. You always do," Jake said before giving him a quick kiss. "Grab the bagels and I'll be right out." Jake had to unzip the suitcase again, forgetting his socks, but Chris headed out, taking one last look at the bedroom they'd been in for the last week or so. It was the homiest one so far, it seemed, even though it was pretty much like any other of the hotel rooms they'd shared. It was just one more thing for Chris to miss about San Francisco. "Ready?" "Yeah," Chris said, leaning against Jake, "promise me that we'll come back. Sometime soon, I mean it." "It's an hour away, we can come back whenever you want." Jake could feel how much Chris was going to miss the city. Every other place they'd been, Chris couldn't hold in the excitement when it came time to go home, but here he seemed to be drawing out every last minute, trying to absorb more and more of the city, more of the emotion that it held for him, more of the memories that he and Jake had created, "we can come up for the weekends, just me and you." "Let's get going, I don't know what's going on in my head lately," Chris said as he grabbed Jake's hand, "you're shaking." "I'm hoping we have enough time," Jake said, "for the park and getting back, it might be a little tight." Twenty minutes later, they were surrounded by the green of the park, the trees and the hills almost completely obscuring the city around them. It reminded Chris of Big Sur, only there was the sound of the city underneath it all, cars and people, not the running water that seemed to pervade the redwoods in Big Sur. "Remember when we were on that shoot and you found our little place?" "I think about it all the time," Jake said, grinning, "we've got home and we've got Big Sur, and now I think we've got San Francisco." They walked together, the sun just breaking through the clouds as Jake grabbed Chris' hand, gripping it tight. "What does this ring mean to you?" Chris felt his stomach tighten, his entire body tensing. He slowed down, the lake that they'd been visiting just in sight. "It's our promise. Me and you forever. I say it, but this ring is physical evidence of it." Chris' words were choppy, confused. He stopped his feet, frozen in place. "See, I wouldn't even have been able to come up with that," Jake said, pulling Chris along the path, "these rings are a way for me to know that we're connected. I have one and you have one. I see mine and I know you've got yours on." There were fewer people in the park than normal, it was the weird time between joggers in the morning and people lunching at noon, there were tourists walking around here and there, but for the most part, Chris noticed that nobody paid any attention to them. They were just two people in the park, and even if they were holding hands, they were in San Francisco. Nobody cared and he loved it. "Wait, is that your sister?" Chris asked, his hand slipping from Jake's, "I swear that's Maggie." He ran towards the figure on the shore of the lake and Jake ran after him, a flash of his dream going through his head. "Hold on! Chris," Jake yelled, "wait for me." "It is you," Chris said, breathless as Maggie turned towards him, "and you too. What are you guys doing here? Jake told you? We're leaving today." "Looking good, Christopher," Peter said, pulling him into a hug, "I like this," he said as he pushed Chris' hair off his forehead. He hugged Maggie, "It's happening, Christopher. It's happening," she whispered into his ear. "You're getting quicker and quicker," Jake said, hand on Chris' shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, "so we're here...in the place you love. All of us." "Your family," Maggie said, "Christopher, we're here for you. Whether you want it or not, we're here for you to cry to, to laugh with, to let secrets slip to, and more than anything, if you just need someone to talk, I'm here. Even Peter is if you need a guy to talk to." "This is a good one," Peter said, "overbearing and stubborn, but they're there whenever you need them." "Yeah, I know that much," Chris said, scooting close to Jake, "but I mean, we have these rings, what's going on?" "That's why I wanted them here," Jake said, holding onto both of Chris' hands, "God, I knew I'd forget what I wanted to say." Chris leaned in, their foreheads pressing together as Maggie and Peter looked on, "I had everything written down, I was practicing." "Say what you feel," Maggie said, "like I told you to." "So I remember going to Santa Barbara with plans for a house and a dog, and instead, I found you. I found you and I found it all." "No, you showed me; Jake, without you I'd be...lost. I was really lonely. I was hiding from everything." "You showed me a whole different way to see things. You got me to slow down," Jake's hands clutched at Chris'. "I want you to know that no matter what, there's not just you anymore, we're connected. I need you as much as you need me. I actually might need you more." "I..." Chris started. "Let him talk," Peter said, "you should have heard him on the phone. He's got this all in him." Chris grinned, eyes falling to the ground as he blushed. Jake's fingers brought their eyes back together, "I want it to be us forever. Whether we remember to say it to each other or not, I've thought about it, and the more I think about it the more I know that I don't want it to be any other way. So to keep it like this, me and you forever, I want to ask if you'd want to marry me." Jake's voice was soft and his eyes were tinged with uncertainty, deep blue looking down at Chris, boring into him for an answer. Chris could feel everything around him, supersensitive to everything from the warm sun on his face and shoulders to the silence surrounding them, everyone holding their breath. Everything slowed down, the entire world spinning around him as Jake held his hands; their bodies pressed together, his steady breathing ringing in his ears as Jake looked at him pleadingly. "Yes," Chris whispered, smiling even though his heart was racing, everything moved from super slow to so fast that his head spun, "Nothing would make me happier. Nothing." Jake leaned in, their lips connecting as Maggie clapped and Peter pulled her against him, tears pricking at his eyes as he saw the two of them, nothing but love between them as Jake's arms wrapped around Chris' body, Chris' hands sliding up to Jake's shoulders, the smooth, fluid movements giving both Peter and Maggie the impression that this was something they were used to. "I've got to seal the deal, right?" Jake asked as he reached into his pocket. Chris smiled as Jake pulled out the little black velvet box, turning it towards Chris as he opened it. "One thing," Chris said, his voice low and quiet. He held his hand over the ring box, stopping Jake from opening it. The color flushed from Jake's face, his body shuddering with confusion, "Shhhhh...Jake, I have to let you in on a secret. Your sister let it slip," Chris said, his hand sliding over Jake's cheek. "This isn't a dream is it?" Jake asked, his eyes teary. "I knew it was coming," Chris said, grabbing Jake's hand, "so I guess all that's left to do is...ask you right back." He pulled another box out of his pocket; hidden for the past few days now, "Marry me, Jake. Make it forever." He opened the box and slipped the simple silvery band onto Jake's finger and Jake quickly pulled him into a kiss, more passionate this time, lips crashing together as Jake held Chris tight, both their bodies relaxing with relief. The buildup had been so intense and now it was done. Both of them had managed to get out what they had to. Chris felt exhausted, everything coming together and draining him like he'd been running a marathon. He felt his body melt into Jake's, he knew the first time, the first ring, had been about him, and now, it was all about Jake. Their bodies were still pulled tight together, Jake's fingers reaching up to wipe away the tears from Chris' cheeks, "This is a dream, Jake, but dreams come true. You just told me so." Jake smiled, opening the ring box he was still holding, slipping the ring onto Chris' finger, "Two for each of us?" "Why not?" Jake asked, stacking his rings, they fit together nicely, one simple, shiny and thin, and the other one dull, the antiqued silvery metal ring sitting right alongside it. It was him and Chris right there, one polished, one rougher, both working together as one piece. "I'm late, aren't I?" Chris heard, Natalie's sweet voice breaking the silence, "he said 'yes?'" She ran over to the group of them, hugging Maggie and giving Peter a kiss on the cheek before standing back to watch Chris and Jake. "How could I say no?" Chris asked, his body still pressed against Jake's, their eyes still locked, their smiles unwavering even though they both had tears dripping slowly down their cheeks. "I love you so much," Jake whispered into Chris' ear, "love you so much, you'll never know. I'll never be able to tell you." Chris pressed his cheek into Jake's shoulder, "I can't believe this is happening." "You're not the only one," Maggie said, her hand running up his back, "my boys are growing up." "I can't believe this is happening," Chris said again, "wake me up." "It's not a dream," Jake said, lips grazing Chris' ear, "you said so yourself, it's a dream come true." Natalie couldn't resist, rushing forward to hug Jake and Chris, Maggie and Peter not far behind, everyone that Jake and Chris loved, everyone that they trusted coming together in celebration and in congratulations. Family wasn't about blood, Chris realized, this is what it was about, supporting each other, being with each other, and more than anything, just loving each other. *** "How often do we get to spend this much time together? It's like a reunion," Chris said. Peter nodded, sipping his coffee as he looked over Chris' shoulder. "We couldn't miss it," Peter said, smiling, "I'm getting myself another baby brother." "You know, when we first met, I didn't think you liked me." "I thought you were just a kid," Peter said, "I didn't know you'd mean so much to Jake and Maggie." "I was so nervous when I saw you, you're tall and you're so intense...but now I see it. You're just a big softy." Peter chuckled, blushing as he looked at his feet, "Maggie's a good judge of character, I should have realized you'd be as cool as you are." "Who would have thought that a nobody writer from the beach would be hanging out with you guys? It's unbelievable." "You're than that, Christopher. Getting to know you has been amazing. You have stories to tell." "We all do," Chris interrupted. "But you tell your stories differently," Peter said, "really. We're lucky to know you." "Can I tell you that I love you? I do, like a big brother I never had." "I'll take what I can get," he said, smiling, giving Chris' shoulder a light squeeze, "Jake's been saying how much you love it here. I can see why, it's gorgeous." "And the people are nice," Chris said, "and there's good food. And things to do, too, there's so much." "It's so obvious," Peter said, eyes sparkling as he shook his head, "why aren't you moving up here? You want to." "No," Chris said, looking down at his coffee, "this isn't home." "Home is where you make it," Peter said, "I've been all over my entire life, so I know." "Jake's already too far from LA. He makes the drive down and back up all the time." "Forget about Jake for once. First of all, he didn't move up there for you. He did that for himself. Second, he'll do anything for you. You're so happy up here, we can all see it." "I can't forget about him, we just promised to marry each other. He's already given up so much for me. I can't ask him to do that." "I heard him tell Maggie that he's never seen you like this. Something about your eyes sparkling and your smile, he knows too." "No," Chris said, "I don't know what's next for us, but I know it's not this. Not here." Chris felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up, Alec's own bright smile shining in the afternoon light. "You got my fax? I can't wait to hear what you have to say, I'm sure you didn't finish but I want immediate reactions, uncensored comments." "Whoa, hey, Alec. This is Peter, he's Jake's sister's husband. Maggie's husband." "Your friend?" "Friend? He's more...he holds the bags when Maggie takes me shopping." Alec and Peter laughed, Chris pulling a chair from an empty table for Alec to sit down, "Alexander Clarkson, my mom got Chris up here for the writer's guild," he said as he offered his hand to Peter. "You sent Chris something to read?" "I've been working on a story since college. Bits and pieces here and there." "Yeah," Chris said, "I got it but I haven't had a chance to read it yet. Peter and Maggie came up and we've been showing them some of the places we've been." "You have my info, phone and e-mail, right? Even if you don't get a chance to get a look at it up here, you can call or send me a message." "Sure," Chris said, "hey, tell me, how much does a place run up here. Not Pacific Heights, but maybe something near the park?" "I'll get back to you on that," Alec said, "I'm sure mom could pull some strings." "No, no, it's not a big deal, I was just wondering," Chris said. "No, get back to him," Peter said, "he's more than curious." He jumped a little, a vibration in his pocket surprising him from the conversation, "It's Maggie, they're probably waiting for us." "We have to head out," Chris said, "but I'll get back to you as soon as I can." "And I'll do the same," Alec said, "it was good seeing you. Nice to meet you too, Peter." "You know how LA is full of people who dream of being actors?" Chris asked as he and Peter walked down the street, eyes peeled for cabs, "San Francisco is full of people who want to be writers. I don't know if I could be in that all the time." Peter nodded, arm flying in the air and a cab stopping right in front of them, "You'll figure it out." "I've figured it out," Chris said, "I can't do it. That's it." "You're still going places, don't rule anything out." Chris looked out at the city, his city. Hemmingway had Havana, Steinbeck had the Salinas Valley, and now, he felt like he had San Francisco, only he had to share it. He was glad he left his computer at home, it was getting to be too much. If he started something now, he wouldn't be able to stop, and right now, as he looked over at Peter and the city flying by through the cab window, he knew there were more important things to think about. *** "Family can take away from some things," Jake said, "like time I'd rather be spending with just you." He leaned into Chris, their noses grazing each other before Chris' lips pressed against his. "Your family is still here," Chris said, grinning, "you can't talk about them like that." "Our family," Jake corrected, his eyes glancing over Chris' shoulder, where Natalie was taking a picture of Maggie and Peter, their smiles wide as they posed with the bay and the bridge behind them. Natalie wrapped her arms around Chris', her head leaning on his shoulder, "He's the one?" "The only one," Chris said, watching as Jake got into the picture with his sister, Peter behind the camera, "I want a picture too. The one on my desk is old." "Get in here then, both of you" Maggie said, beckoning him with a wave, "we can set that timer thing." "I'll take it," Natalie said, "then we can do the timer." She pushed Chris towards the crowd, Maggie and Jake catching him in their arms, "It's the whole clan." Jake wrapped his arms around Chris, kissing his cheek lightly before turning to the camera. Peter pulled them all together, four bright smiles shining back at Natalie as she counted to three, "That's priceless." "Get in here too," Chris said. Natalie set her purse down on the base of the Christopher Columbus statue, gingerly situating the camera on top of it before running around to the front of the picture, the five of them laughing as the camera went off before she could get situated. Laughing, they figured it a lost cause and gathering their things, they headed back, Jake's arm around Chris' shoulders, "Did I surprise you?" "I was going to have a heart attack," Jake whispered, kissing Chris' ear lightly, "but it was perfect." He grabbed Chris' hand to look at the rings, making sure that it all really happened, that he managed to get everyone up to San Francisco and still managed to be surprised at the last minute. He couldn't have asked for more. "They're hopeless," Maggie whispered into Peter's ear as they followed Chris and Jake down the hill, "look at them. Have you ever seen either of them this happy?" "And you too," Peter said, "and me. It's contagious." Maggie's eyes focused on her little brother, hand clutching Chris' tight as they walked down the meandering street to the taxi stop, Chris' turned back to face her, a smile on his face as he saw them following. He turned back around, head coming to rest on Jake's shoulder. The sun was setting, a crisp breeze blowing over his face as Jake brushed the bangs off his head. He had it all right then, he just closed his eyes and ran his hand up Jake's arm; he didn't want it to ever end. *** "Out here again?" Jake asked, arms wrapping around Chris' waist, his nose at Chris' neck. Chris turned his eyes to the stars, barely visible through the velvety black sky because of the city lights, "Just saying thank you," he said as he leaned against Jake. "To who?" "To anyone who's listening," Chris said, turning to face him, "because I don't know who got us together that one morning, so I've got to cover all my bases." His hands came up to cup Jake's face, fingers grazing scratchy stubble as he brought their lips together. "It's cold out tonight," Jake whispered, "let's get inside." Part of Chris didn't want to, because it meant that the day was coming to a close, as if the dark night sky wasn't evidence enough. The city was falling asleep around him and he was still trying to convince himself that they day could go on forever. Jake's fingertips ticked his stomach at the waistband of his jeans, lips at his neck. Chris shut his eyes, awash in the sensation of Jake's beard scratching his skin, "I love you so much, Jake," he whispered, fingers tangling in Jake's thick hair, "can't tell you often enough." Jake shuddered when Chris ran his hands up his back, pulling his sweater up over his head. Chris' lips moved down Jake's neck, fingers trailing over soft chest hair and tight muscle. The cool air raised goose bumps on Jake's skin, either that Chris' feathery movements on his chest, he couldn't tell. Jake's hands settled on Chris' shoulders as Chris kissed down his stomach, "We better get inside, Chris," he gasped, Chris tongue tracing a circle around his belly button. He pulled Chris up, groaning when Chris' lips latched onto his nipple. He could draw this out forever. Scrambling to his feet, Chris pressed his lips to Jake's again, tongues sliding together as Jake yanked Chris' sweater off, chests pressing together Jake's hands pressed into Chris' back. Jake pulled away, his eyes fluttering open to see Chris' heavy lids, "I can't get enough of you." Chris' eyes shut, Jake's fingers at the button of his jeans. Jake's lips were at his neck again as his jeans fell to the ground, a shudder rocking his body as Jake's hand wrapped around his cock. He slumped against Jake's body, "Definitely got to get you in there," Jake said, pulling Chris into the suite. Chris stumbled out of his pants, leaving everything out on the balcony as Jake pulled him inside. A cluster of white candles flickered near the bed as Jake pushed his own pants down. "They're from the house," Jake whispered, "from that night." "You're too much," Chris said, his voice breathy as Jake settled on top of him. Jake's lips were at his neck again, a deep-throated moan escaping Chris' mouth. Jake's lips moved down Chris' chest, shivers running from his toes to his hair as Jake moved down, hot breaths sweeping over his stomach. One long lick up his cock and Chris swore he was on the edge already, hands gripping Jake's shoulders. He arched back onto his shoulders, chest long and lean as Jake shuffled on the bed, a hand sliding up Chris' chest. Chris tried to catch his breath, Jake stroking his own cock as he waited, Chris' body racked by uncontrollable shudders. Chris got up on his elbows, one hand reaching out to stroke Jake's thick shaft. He pulled Jake forward, if his body was for some reason hypersensitive, he didn't have a problem swirling his tongue around the head of Jake's cock. Shuddering, Jake shut his eyes, fingers in Chris' hair as he thrust into his mouth. Chris cupped Jake's balls, every breath filling his head with the smell of Jake, cologne, musk, and soap. It was the same as the first time, same as it was every time. Jake's cock was harder than he could ever remember, the hard shaft sliding past his lips. He could taste salty-sweet pre- cum on his tongue, steady drops sliding down Jake's shaft as Chris licked long slow strokes up the length. Jake's cock was heavy on his tongue, pumping with every beat of his heart as Jake thrust slowly, eyes shut and head thrown back. It was warm and wet, Chris knew exactly how he liked it, how it drove him crazy when Chris' tongue worked the ridge right under the head of his cock, loved how his balls tingled when Chris' fingers pulled at them softly, drove him crazy when he groaned and Jake's entire body seemed to shudder from the sound of it and the feeling it shot up his back. Chris knew how to do it and he was doing it all, doing it all at once and Jake felt like he was drowning in the sensation. Jake was breathing hard, his lungs suddenly not taking in enough air as Chris took his entire length down his throat. The stars outside were the only thing that he could see when he closed his eyes, Chris' eyes shutting as he felt Jake's body tighten, from his shoulders down to his chest, every muscle of his stomach tight and cut as he shuddered, thick ropes of cum spilling into Chris' mouth, the salty taste of it filling his mouth as Jake fell forward, arms flexed to keep him up. Breaths ragged and heavy as he pulled out, Chris' tongue darting out one more time, sliding up under the head of his cock, two more spurts of cum shooting out onto Chris' chin. Groaning, Jake fell sideways, chest rising and falling as Chris wiped the cum off his face with the back of his hand, catching his breath as he rolled over onto Jake, his lips finding Jake's sweet spot, connecting to the skin right under his ear, Jake breathless, eyes rolling back in his head as his body was still trying to recuperate. Chris stroked his cock as he straddled Jake, pre-cum slicking his shaft as Jake's hungry eyes watched. His hands moved to Chris' hips, fingers on soft skin as Chris steadied himself on Jake's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Chris reached back, gasping as he slipped a finger into his hole, jaw falling slack as Jake's cock stirred again, the shaft stiffening as he watched Chris' body tense, gasping as he slid his finger in and out. Jake's tongue darted out, moistening his lips as he brought his hand up to join Chris', his finger slipping in as Chris froze, eyes shut tight as Jake crooked his finger and pressed it against Chris' prostate; if Chris knew all of Jake's spots, Jake could prove that he knew all of Chris' too. Jake pulled Chris' hand away and pushed him back, his finger still pushing deep into his hole as he pulled Chris' leg around his waist. Arching back on his shoulders again, Chris let out a long breath, Jake's fingers slowly sliding in and out of him. Jake pulled his fingers out and scooted closer, lips grazing Chris' as he pushed the first inch in, Chris gasping as Jake kissed him, his hand still gripping Chris'. Grunting, he thrust in deeper, a groan falling from Chris' lips as he felt the burning stretch in his hole. His hand ran over Jake's cheek, shaking as Jake thrust in to the hilt. His eyes rolled back in his head, shuddering as Jake held him tight, his body awash in everything, Jake on top of him and Jake inside of him. Jake pulled out and Chris moaned, his hands gripping Jake's shoulders and his legs gripping Jake tight. His head tossed from side to side as Jake thrust in and pulled out in hard, strong strokes. Jake groaned, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as his cock pushed into the tightness, Chris' body supple and responsive under him, every movement of his hips tightening Chris' muscles or forcing a grunt or groan from Chris' mouth. They moved together with a practiced grace, motions smooth and languid, unhurried even though Chris was close for the second time. Chris pulled Jake down for another kiss, lips crashing together as Jake's tongue slid against his, his body shuddering as Jake held him tight, thrusts speeding up and slowing down, erratic as Jake's body was bombarded with sensation, his movements instinctual, primal as he just let his body work towards orgasm. He concentrated on his tongue, sliding it against Chris' as they kissed, concentrated on stroking Chris' cock with long, steady strokes. Chris shuddered as Jake pulled him forward, Jake landing on his back and his cock hitting Chris differently, every hard thrust upward and every slip downward a direct hit on his prostate. His head was spinning, they'd done it before, done it so many times before, but this time it was different. There was a connection deeper than the obvious physical one, even deeper than the emotional one that they shared, this time he and Jake seemed to be moving in sync, both of them knew what the other wanted, knew exactly how to get there. Chris leaned back and Jake's hands ran up and own his chest, thumbs sliding over nipples, palms on Chris' taut stomach before settling on his hips. Chris' legs flexed with every rise and fall, Jake thrusting up to get his cock in that much deeper. Chris' hand stroked his cock, thumb running over the head as he jerked hard, his teeth on his lower lip as he inched closer and closer. Jake pulled Chris' body down so that they were chest to chest, his hands tangling in Chris' hair as Chris shook, hands gripping Jake's shoulders as he shuddered, cum splashing up Jake's chest as his eye shut tight, his breathing heavy as Jake pushed his hair off his forehead, his body suddenly boneless on top of Jake's as his hard thrusts continued. Chris' lips attached to Jake's neck one more time, a shudder coursing through Jake's body as he froze, Chris' hands on his bicep and his chest, steadying himself as Jake shot hard, hot cum searing into his body as Jake shook under him, eyes shut tight and lips pressing against Chris' as he held him, stars and light the only thing he could see as his heart beat faster than he could ever remember. Chris kissed him hard, their foreheads pressing together and their eyes locking. Blue on brown, smooth skin against soft hair, Chris wondered how they managed to fit together so well sometimes, but it was these moments when their bodies felt like one altogether that he always thought that they were perfect no matter how different they were. *** Chris burrowed deeper into Jake, the covers pulled tight against his body. The light shone into the room and as Jake pulled him tight, "It's not a dream after all," Chris heard. Jake's voice was soft, calm and soothing. "I told you already," Chris said, smiling, his hand tracing lazy patterns on Jake's chest--his new favorite thing to do in the morning--"dreams come true every day." "You've got those rings on, right?" Jake asked pulling Chris' hand to his lips. "I wouldn't take them off for anything." "Then this really is a dream come true," Jake said, his lips on Chris'. "It's real," Chris said, taking a deep breath, "unless I'm dreaming too." "This is too good to be a dream," Jake said, "I would have woken up by now." Chris nodded, settling against Jake's body again. It was enough talk for now. Jake's hand ran up his back, his free hand pulling the sheets tight around both of them. He kissed Chris lightly on the top of his head, eyes shutting slowly as he felt Chris' steady breathing against him. There wasn't anything that could get him out of that bed right then. Clutching Chris tight against him, he let his eyes shut again. The world could wait. --- Feedback? christopherrluu@gmail.com