Disclaimer:This story is a tale about actors Christian Bale and Jake Gyllenhaal and their relationship, both sexual and romantic. This story is purely a work of fiction and any likenesses to real life are purely coincidental. I am not affiliated with either actor or Hollywood. This story is merely for entertainment and pleasuring purposes.
Author's Note: My name is Felicia and I am a woman who has been writing slash and yaoi fanfiction as well as gay original fiction for five years. I hope you enjoy my stories and I plan to have many more in the future. If you have suggestions or would like to comment on a story, please do not hesitate to email me at email@example.com. I always enjoy reading fans reviews and I answer my email daily.
We kissed for a good hour. At least, I think it was an hour, maybe longer. I really didn't care to check when I had Christianfucking Bale lying on top of me. It was new and exciting. His hands slipped behind my head, fingers sliding into my hair and then tugging as if to pull me even closer than I already was. My own arms rested upon the couch, bent at the elbow, hands clutching at the other man's shirt. I already was tugging at him, also attempting to pull him closer than he already was.
He shifted and I hissed as something hard pressed against my crotch, which I suddenly realized was also very hard. Five seconds later, Bale pulled away, strong arms holding his upper body off mine, and looked down at me, mouth parted as he worked to catch his breath. I looked back, heat rising in my cheeks as I breathed deeply. I knew what was pressing against me now as well as Bale did. He didn't blush as I was but he slowly frowned. I felt my heart beat rise as we continued to watch one another and then slowly, Bale rose off me and stood. He didn't look at me again, shifting his pants slightly in an attempt to hide his arousal. I swallowed hard as I lay there, my heart now beating several hundred times faster than it should. What just happened?
I kissed the man who was now looking at his fire-less hearth. He kissed back. We had just made out on his couch for Christ's sake. Now what? What was going on in that head of his?
"I'll have my driver take you home," he said finally. I blinked. Was he serious? One look over his features, his face set--eyes unseeing, told me the answer. The careful but firm manner in which he spoke. Yes. He was very serious. I didn't dare protest as I sat up, running a suddenly numb hand through my hair. I stood, looked at him once, and nodded. I made my way to the entrance hall, grabbing my jacket from the coat rack and slipping it on. I then looked at his jacket. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a hand over the material. My mouth slid into a frown as I sighed and pulled my hand away. One last glance at the door to the room Bale currently occupied, I left his house and headed down the porch steps to the car now waiting. The driver opened the back door for me and I barely recall muttering a slurred thank you as I slipped into the car. The door shut and my eyes trained to the house, my heart steadily beating as the driver pulled away. He asked me for directions, which I muttered before I pressed my head against the window and closed my eyes, willing my erection to just go the fuck away. It was gone by the time I reached my home that I had recently shared with Reese—well, her home—and slowly, I made my way inside and to our room. Collapsing onto the bed, I suddenly realized just how tired I was. One last thought about Bale flashed through my mind, our kiss. My dick twitched feebly but I was much too tired and confused at the moment to become hard. Damn him for stopping. Damn him for messing with my mind. Damn him. Just damn him all to hell. With a groan, I flipped onto my stomach, shoving my face into a pillow and finally, I drifted to sleep.
The next morning I wanted to murder every living soul that made alcohol. My head pounded unforgivably and my body ached. I lay in my bed, eyes screwed shut against the relentless sun shining in through my window. I could hear the low hum of our maid vacuuming but the low hum might as well have been a maintenance man and his jackhammer pounding into my forehead. I swore several strings of colorful curses, my throat scratchy as I spoke. I would kill Bale later, I decided, and forced myself back to sleep.
Later came, but so did my stomach. I rushed to the master bathroom, flipped up the toilet seat, and attached myself to the basin just as everything I had eaten mixed with everything I had drank became a sacrifice to the porcelain Gods. After one wave, I collapsed onto the cold white tiled floor. Five seconds later, I was on my knees again. This time I stayed on my knees and after two more waves of upchucking what were no doubt bits of my insides I had nothing to give and groaned as Reese's maid entered and sighed, shaking her head.
"Mister Jake," she said, moving past me and ignoring the toilet completely, she flipped on the faucet, testing the water. My eyes focused unseeingly as she fixed the stopper and watched the water. Once it was to her discretion, she snapped her fingers loudly at me. "Clothes off. Into the tub. Soak. I'll have Alive and an Evian in your room." With that, she left to leave me snaking out of my clothes and climbing into the tub. Bale wasn't kidding. I am a lightweight and I knew it, so what in the fuck was I thinking?
I didn't want to think right now. While the most painful part had subsided, my head still throbbed lowly and my eyes watered slightly. I shifted into the water, my legs rising and bending so I could emerge myself, releasing all the air from my mouth to bubble to the water's surface. Only when my head gave a particularly forceful throb did I break through to gasp at the air. I felt better but took my time to scrub my body and hair and to soak until the water was in danger of freezing.
Stepping out, I shook. My head hardly hurt now and I took a towel off the rack and was in the process of blow-drying my hair when the maid called out that I had an important phone call. I called out for the caller and she stated she didn't know. I sighed. I had a very clear idea of just who was on the other end of the phone line and damn him to hell if real life weren't a cartoon and the Acme Company couldn't solve all of our problems. I unplugged the dryer and returned it to its proper place before padding back into my room and taking the phone from the receiver. Several greetings passed through my head before I answered, but just as I hit the "Talk" button, my mouth settled on...
I swore I heard a snort but it could very well have been bad reception. He cleared his throat and spoke with purpose.
"I called to make sure that you were alive and to let you know that I am having my dry cleaner's drop of your shoes and socks to your place. Have a good day. Bye."
I opened my mouth to speak, to say anything but words would not come and I heard the click of Bale hanging up. With a growl, I hung up the phone and looked at it. Pressing the caller ID button, I scrolled down to Bale's call and grumbled. Private number.
Well, wasn't that just the way of the world? I placed the phone back onto its base and sunk onto the bed, my head in my hands as I took a few calming breaths. Everything was happening far too fast and I was certain that this—whatever it was—would be the death of me. I'd end up like Heath. The very possibility that such a sudden death could happen to me scared me. I didn't want to die yet. I still had my life to live. Yes, corny. But true. Very true.
I sat up straight and got to my feet, making my way to my dresser to slip on a pair of boxers before padding across to my closet, pulling on a simple T-shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans. I was hungry and it seemed my stomach would stop rebelling. I made my way down stairs and into the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator and cupboards. I settled on a simple bowl of Lucky Charms and was soon seated at the kitchen island, slurping and chewing at the wheat and marshmallow pieces. It was a good breakfast and I felt much better—my hangover was long gone and I had the entire day to myself. It was a good day, I decided as I set the bowl and spoon into the sink and washed my hands.
Drying them, I reached a dilemma. The day was mine to do what I wished, but what was I going to do. My thoughts switched to Bale and I knew that more than anything, I wanted—and needed—to talk to him. Then other questions filled my mind: how had he learned my number, and how had he learned where I lived?
The answer was like a cliché light bulb clicking on above my head. Yes, the answer was that simple and so very obvious.
It was time I that my dear older sister received a visit from her little brother.
I called Maggie and we agreed to meet at the Café Rodeo, a small restaurant inside the little boutique hotel on Rodeo Drive. She was shopping today. She often shopped alone—in fact, most celebrity women shopped alone and that confused me. I agreed and decided that what I was wearing already would work and headed out to the entryway to grab my keys, cell phone, and sunglasses, which I promptly slipped onto my face.
I was seated at a small table in the back, rising my hand and waving Maggie over when I recognized her. No one else seemed to so I put it off that I'd known her all my life and so I was bound to recognize her on any whim. She smiled as she took a seat and picked up her menu to look at it. When the waiter made his way over, I ordered a cup of their signature coffee while my sister ordered a glass of the Pomegranate Blackberry iced tea. The waiter left and returned in no time before leaving us to look over our menus. I wasn't hungry and didn't touch mine and was silent until Maggie double tapped the food she would get. She had always done this since we were kids and it was nice to see that stardom didn't erase all of the old habits. She looked up and smiled at me.
"Alright, little bro," she said with a cheeky little grin. "Why did you need to disturb me on a shopping day? You know that Gucci, Chanel, Dolce and Gabbana don't like to share."
I rolled my eyes at her before quirking my brows. "Why did you give him my number and address?"
She smirked and I could tell she hadn't planned on ever denying it. Another thing stardom didn't take away. "Well, he is a friend and I trust him. I didn't think you'd mind or I never would have given it. You left with him after the party last night and seemed to be getting along just fine."
She tactfully fell silent as the waiter returned and gave him her order. The waiter looked at me and I held up my hand while shaking my head. I then picked up my coffee mug and sipped from it as she drank deeply from her glass. Her eyes remained on me until I caved. Setting down my glass, I leaned forward and frowned. She leaned closer as well and looked slightly worried, though she hid it well. She didn't say anything or ask leading questions. Damn her. That would make this a bit easier.
"I... kissed him," I whispered softly. I watched her face for any kind of reaction and caught her lips twitch at the last moment. She nodded, as if saying to continue, and so I did. "He kissed back and we... made out."
She grinned outright at this and allowed her eyes to dart around once before she whispered lowly. "And you...?"
I knew what she was asking. Closing my eyes with a groan, I then sighed. "Liked it. A lot."
She giggled softly and nodded. "Of course you did. He's a very good kisser."
I narrowed my eyes warningly and she shrugged but withdrew her teases. Now she was the protective big sister. "What else? Did anything... else happen?"
I shook my head as I felt heat rising in my face. She nodded.
"You wanted something else to happen?"
I shrugged noncommittally and frowned. "I guess... well, at the time I did. I am not sure now. I do know I want and need to talk to him. Problem is that I have no clue where he lives or how to get there—yes, I know I was just there last night, but I was not paying attention to where I was going, Mags. I don't even have his number because when he called me, it only listed as Private Number on my caller ID."
Maggie opened her mouth to speak but promptly changed the words that were coming out when our waiter placed her Caprese Chicken Wrap before her. "Thank you," she said and waited until he was far from our table. "Alright, Jake. It is obvious you have some sort of attraction to him—no, don't shake your head at me. Men do not make out with other men if there is not some sort of attraction."
"I was drunk," I muttered and she rolled her eyes.
"Mm. You weren't so drunk that you didn't know what was happening, were you? No. Was he drunk?"
I blinked and thought for a moment before I blushed and shook my head. This caused her to grin outright. "Mm. This is turning out better and better. Alright. You, drunk, kissed a man who was not drunk. You were not so drunk that you didn't realize what you were doing or what you wanted. I would say it is very safe to say that you and he are very much into one another."
She bit her lip and smirked as I took big gulps of my coffee, the searing liquid rush down my throat. I don't know if I was calming my nerves or trying to burn myself to death from the inside. She guessed I wasn't about to speak and so she continued.
"Jake, you need to understand that things aren't always going to happen that make sense. Tell me this, when you kissed Christian and he kissed back, how did it feel?"
I groaned but decided that I owed her. She was my sister and was always there for me. It was nice to know but I wasn't about to feel grateful to her right now. I explained to her that it had felt very, very good. How he had laid on top of me and we kissed and every simple touch caused another shock to run through me. I then explained that everything was fine until we both realized we were very much turned on and then Bale had gotten off me and sent me home. She smiled softly and patted my hand.
"He's confused. Much like you are. I think it is a good thing that you want to talk to him because Christian is the type to bottle things up. Certain things anyway. Not to mention you are both men and so it is obvious that he is going to tread softly. This is thin ice you are skating on, Jake. You need to tread softly as well."
I nodded and stood. She stood up and hugged me, kissing my cheek. "Here, before I forget. I was asked to give this to you but don't look at it yet."
She passed me a slip of paper, which I stuffed into my pocket and hugged her again.
"Have a good shop, I said. Tell Gucci and Versace I said hi."
She laughed and pushed me on, telling me that she would pay for lunch. I shrugged and took my leave, heading out of the restaurant and the hotel. I waited until I was safely in my car before I pulled out the paper and looked down at the neat handwriting that was Maggie's scribbled onto the paper. I blinked twice.
The name and telephone number that were proclaimed upon it were not.
I could hardly believe it and as I pulled out my cell phone, I felt my heart race. I tapped in the numbers and pressed the phone to my ear, breathing steadily as the number rang. Five seconds... ten seconds... fifteen—
I coughed and nearly dropped the phone. He said the word again and then added something else.
"Jake. I don't have all day. Speak already."
"Very good. Do you have pen and paper?"
I nodded silently before I realized he couldn't hear me. I cleared my throat and said that yes, I did. He asked me to write something down and then promptly dictated an address. It was the Los Angeles Public library and he said so. I wondered why the hell he was giving me the address to the library and then he told me in the next beat.
"Meet me there in ten minutes."
I mouthed wordlessly, and not for the first time. I heard the tell-tale click and muttered several curses toward Bale before I returned my cell phone to my pocket, buckled up, and headed for the library. My entire being was a mess of mixed up thoughts and jumbled up feelings.
It was likely that when this was all over, they would need to use a knot remover to get me undone.
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