Date: Fri, 1 Feb 2013 03:08:40 -0500 From: Andy Darko Subject: Channing's Visit Part 1 This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences. If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site. -------------------------------------------------- Channing's Visit - Chapter 1 -------------------------------------------------- "I called you yesterday, Reagan, I swear." "Did you leave a message?" The suited man in front of me sighed. "Well... no. I figured you'd see that I called and called me back! Between the flight and driving all the way out here, I thought there'd be time!" I closed my eyes impatiently. "You know I have no problem doing this, but-," "He has offered to pay rent while he's here." I continued my sentence. "BUT, I need better notice next time." "Reagan, I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "Poor guy been going through it with his wife. She wants a divorce, a kid is on the way, his career image is on the line. He just needs to disappear for a while. You were the first person I thought of." "How long?" Owen shrugged. "I dunno. A few months." I barked a laugh. "A few months? Oh, is that all?" He cupped his hands over his mouth, eyes scrunched. When he finally spoke, I could tell that he was picking every word carefully. "I promise you that I will try and make his stay here as brief as possible. If you wake up one day and decide you want him gone, I will be here within two days time. And, he won't interrupt your work. I swear." There was a period of silence as I thought it over. Being friends with Owen had always been interesting, to say the least. And, when he became notorious for being able to hide away celebrities, `interesting' didn't even cover it. I understood his logic for often coming to me. With a massive house in the middle of Colorado all to myself, there wasn't much left to ask for. The celebs got to get away. I got to meet celebs. Owen kept his name relevant and his pockets full. "All right," I conceded. Owen jumped in celebration. "Oh, thank god. I already told him he could stay. If you had said no-," "You jackass." Owen scoffed. "Don't judge. You're getting money out of this, too." I looked behind me melodramatically. "I own a 2.5 million dollar home and an apartment in New York City. I think I'm doing okay." "You trust fund kids disgust me," he muttered as he headed towards the car parked in the driveway. As I had a laugh, I called after him. "Hey, you didn't even tell me who he is!" When no response came, I shook my head. A time later, I heard the sound of a suitcase or two rolling towards my front door. Owen came first followed by... My breath hitched in my throat. There was no way in hell. "Reagan Mauldwin, this is Channing Tatum. Channing, Reagan." Years of playing the host for A-listers had finally paid off. I swallowed my shock and, quite honestly, lust as I shook Channing's hand. "Mr. Tatum." He chuckled a deep, throaty laugh as his green eyes locked onto my own hazels. "Call me Channing. Please." "Sure. Um, unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to tidy up the guesthouse out back, so you'll have to stay in one of the rooms in here. I hope that's all right." He nodded as we headed inside. "Whatever works best for you. I don't wanna put you out in any way." "You're not," I replied. "But, thanks for the sentiment. I suppose we should start with a tour." As we walked the house, Owen in tow, I snuck as many glances at Channing as I could. Sure, I was no stranger to meeting famous individuals, but I had never had anyone as blatantly sexy as Channing in my house. Dear John, Step Up, Magic freaking Mike? This was going to be an interesting few months indeed. "The pool is out back and the guesthouse is beyond that," I finished about a half hour later. "I think that's about it." "Do you have a gym?" Channing asked. My eyes unconciously looked over his torso, muscles bulging underneath the blue tee he was sporting. "I do. It's downstairs in the basement. Treadmill, elliptical, weights. Whatever you need. There's a sauna down there, too, but it takes a bit to warm up so just let me know." Owen clapped his hands together. "Well, it seems like you are all set, Channing. I'm going to head out. Text me, call me, Tweet, anything. Reagan, I'm sure I will hear from you soon." "Damn right." "Anything else while I'm here?" he asked energetically. "No? All right! I'm gone." Owen whisked himself out of the front door and back to Los Angeles. I turned to Channing who smiled. After a rather awkward silence, we both spoke at the same time. "Are you hungry or thirsty or anything?" I asked. "I guess I should unpack," he said. We both laughed that strange laugh where you're not quite sure what to say. Channing took the reigns. "We ate on the way here. Owen didn't want to inconvenience you too much." "How considerate of him," I quipped. "All right. Well, let's get your stuff to your room and I'll let you get settled." I reached down to grab his duffel back just as he did the same. As a result, our faces ended up being, literally, two inches apart. When we turned to face each other, our noses actually brushed. I could smell the mint of gum on his breath and prayed that mine wasn't offensive. Shit. Did I brush today? Channing shot me that trademark grin. "I got it." "I wouldn't be much of a host if I didn't help." Still face to face. "All right," he chuckled. "Your house, your rules." "Glad you see it that way," I smiled. Then, I turned serious. "Because you need to take your shoes off in my house before you ruin my carpet." "Oh, shit." Channing sprung up, trying frantically to toe off his sneakers. He would have fallen and hit the floor if he hadn't caught himself on the nearby wall. I couldn't help but burst out laughing. He stopped, one foot in his hand, shoe halfway off. "What... what's funny?" "I'm sorry," I snorted, clutching my sides. "I just wanted to see how you'd react." Channing gawked at me as I continued laughing, then joined. "Oh, you are a dick! I'm gonna get you back for that, Reagan. Sleep with one eye open." "This is me being scared," I replied, still giggling. I was surprised at how approachable Channing was. Less than an hour together and I felt like we had been friends for some time. He playfully punched me in the side before I picked up his duffel bag and headed for his room. "This is a beautiful house," he mused as we passed some artwork. "And, amazing art. Who did these paintings?" "I did." "No way! That's awesome!" I smiled. "It was a hobby that turned into a life for me. I had a showing in New York last year that was pretty big." Channing paused at one of the larger pieces. "Wait... was it called `Moves and Moving Up' or..." He turned his head sideways to look over the piece, focused on remembering. I didn't think he could get any more handsome. I shook myself back into reality and answered for him. "It was `Moves of Moving On' and how do you know that?" He chuckled. "Joseph took me to it. He's a big fan." "Joseph who?" "Joseph Gordon-Levitt." I felt my jaw drop. "Looper? Inception? 500 Days of Summer? THAT Joseph Gordon-Levitt?" Channing snickered. "Unless you know another one." "He is a fan of MY work?" "Yeah. He's got like... six pieces. I told Owen I knew your name from somewhere." Incredible. I was floored. I knew that there had been some big names at the show, but it hadn't come to my attention that Channing and Joseph had been there. Part of me was pissed that I could have met Channing earlier. Hell, Joseph wasn't bad to look at either. Once in Channing's new room, I set his bag down and sighed. "So, my room is just down the hall. I'm usually in the guesthouse working, but that'll all have to go in the garage I guess." "The guesthouse is your studio?" Channing asked quickly. When I nodded, he furrowed his brow. "Don't move all that because of me. I can just stay in here." "Don't you want some privacy?" He walked over to the door and, with grand flair, closed it. "Boom. Privacy." "Beauty, brawn and brains," I said. "You've got it all." The words fell out of my mouth before my brain could filter them. Channing shrugged nonchalantly. "You're not so bad yourself. Talent. Telling jokes. And... something else that begins with `T'." "Yeah, I'm scratching `brains' off your list," I teased, ignoring the mild flirtation from this straight hunk. Channing brushed me off with a smile as he set down his suitcase. "I think I'm going to hit the gym. Being cooped up in planes and cars all day makes me antsy." "Okay. I'll be over in the guesthouse if you need me." I made for the door, then turned to say something. What it was, I'll never know. In that two seconds of me having my back turned, Channing had removed his shirt and stood before me in nothing but jeans and socks. I unabashedly stared at his body, drinking in the sight of this hunky actor in front of me. I must have stared too long because Channing's chuckle snapped me back to the present. "Um... yeah. I'll be... guesthouse." I pushed my sandy hair out of my eyes as I left the room, face flushed. This was going to be a challenge. -------------------------------------------------- Thanks for reading guys. This is just an introduction. Things will pick up soon. Feel free to e-mail me and let me know what you think, what you would like to see or even if you just want to say thanks or anything! NiftyAndyDarko@gmail.com