Date: Fri, 3 May 2013 11:16:17 -0400
From: Andy Darko <niftyandydarko@gmail.com>
Subject: Channing's Visit Pt. 7

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. If you
enjoy Nifty, please donate!

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Channing's Visit - Chapter 7
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Oh, my god. Two updates in a week?! WHAT IS GOING ON?! Seriously though,
thanks guys! I was worried that I had lost a lot of your interest since I
wasn't able to write, but WOW. The responses were quick and plentiful!

Thanks to Jason, Steve, Michael, Clarence, Robert, Michael (another one!),
Jossio, Adolfo, Dave, Cory and Stephen for the encouraging e-mails!

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	A few days later, Channing, Joey and myself piled into my Jeep and
hit the highway. We had originally planned to reach Aspen by early
afternoon, but got caught in traffic. I was leaning on the window, one hand
on the wheel, agitated. Joey was on his phone. Channing was stretched out
in the backseat, eyes covered by designer shades. He had been silent for
quite a while; so long, in fact, that I thought he was asleep.

	I occupied my time by fiddling with the satellite radio. As I
passed through the stations, Channing suddenly spoke. "Hey, go back. I like
that song." I did as he asked, surprised by his choice. "Really? You like
Emeli Sandé?"

	"Yeah! She's awesome!"

	I had been somewhat obsessed with her album for months, which made
Channing smile when I told him so. We spoke about our favorite tracks and
how they made us feel. It was nice to have something in common with him
besides a penchant for sporadic sex. As the cars in front of me started
moving, he reached out. I switched hands on the wheel and held his hand as
I drove. Though the position was somewhat uncomfortable, the intimacy made
up for it.

	We finally pulled up to Meagan's ranch at about five. She came
outside to greet us, clad in a flowing top and jeans. I stepped out of the
car and met her hug. "Hey, sis."

	"Baby brother."

	"By three minutes."

	"Still older."

	I rolled my eyes. By that time, Channing and Joey had joined
us. Meagan's eyebrows shot up and her jaw fell. "Meagan, this is Channing
and this is Joey. As I'm sure you know. Guys, this is Meagan."

	"Holy twins, Batman," Joey laughed before shaking her hand. "If you
hadn't cut you hair, I'd barely be able to tell you apart." It was
true. Besides the obvious physical differences, Meagan and I were identical
down to the curve of our lips. Same height, same hair color, same angled
face. As kids, even our parents would have difficulties telling us apart at
certain times.

	"Pleasure to meet you," Channing said, his large hand enveloping
Meagan's. She chuckled, pulling him into a hug. "Cut the formalities. We're
all friends here... apparently."

	"Sorry about being late," I said as I began to pull our bags from
the Jeep. "I know we were going to do lunch."

	"No problem. It gave me extra time to clean. Come on in, guys."

	I shouldered my bag and followed Meagan and Joey inside. Channing
appeared behind me and wrapped one big arm around my chest. He pulled me
into his body and kissed my neck, making me giggle. "What was that for?"

	"Because I wanted to."

	"Because you think you're getting some hanky-panky tonight."

	"I don't hear any objections."

	We duck-walked into the house, Channing releasing me as soon as we
were inside. Joey was halfway up the stairs leading to the bedrooms, but
Meagan was waiting for us. She didn't say a word, but something told me she
hadn't missed our exchange.

	"Reagan, you know where your room is," she said once we were all
upstairs. "Channing, you're next door. Joey, yours is the next. Throw your
bags in there, get settled. And, let me know if you need anything."

	After we had all gotten comfortable, we met up in the living
room. "So," Meagan started. "Gentlemen, has my brother fed you at all or
should we go out for dinner?"

	"I'll have you know that I made breakfast this morning," I shot
back.

	"So, basically, you've been starving them."

	"Tramp."

	"Bottom."

	Joey and Channing, unaccustomed to our sibling dynamic, exchanged
looks before bursting into laughter. As usual, Meagan had the last word, so
I crossed my arms and sat back into the couch. Channing pulled me into him,
still chuckling. "Reagan has kept us good and full, but I know I'm ready
for dinner."

	"I could definitely eat," Joey chimed in.

	"Perfect," Meagan smiled as she hopped from the couch. "There's
this new steakhouse that my girlfriend just opened and I've been dying to
go. I'll give her a call." As she grabbed her cell phone, I had a
thought. "Meg, a private table if she has one!"

	Ever the lady, Meagan pivoted on her heel. "Actually, I was
thinking about procuring a table in the dead center of the restaurant
because I'm sure our guests would love to sign autographs all night instead
of eating." I sneered at her sarcasm.

	An hour or so later, we were greeted by Meagan's entrepreneurial
friend at the door of her venue. I missed her name, but was blown away by
the restaurant as soon as we stepped in. The entire place was an
amalgamation of a woodsy, forest-inspired mahogany furniture and more
modern accents, some burnished chrome, others marble, others granite. In
the center of the room was a cylindrical wood-burning fireplace which sent
a warm glow throughout.

	We were guided to a private corner, although not entirely
unnoticed. Some of the younger patrons of the restaurant reached hastily
for phones and cameras, but we were soon behind a partition, our backs to
floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the city. I found myself seated
between Meagan to my right and Channing to my left. Our waiter soon joined
us and asked for any drink orders.

	"Gin martini, straight up, extra dirty. Filthy, as a matter of
fact. And, extra olives, please," I said immediately. Channing's face
scrunched in disgust. "How can you drink that?"

	"It's delicious. How can you not?"

	"First, gin. Second, olives."

	"Well, what are you having?"

	"Bourbon and coke."

	It was my turn to be disgusted. "Brown liquor is the devil."

	After we received our drinks and ordered, Joey raised his glass in
a toast. "To new friends."

	"And, old friends," Channing added.

	"And, family," Meagan contributed.

	"And, something equally cheesy," I said, grinning.

	We drank and chatted merrily. Even Channing's worries seemed gone
from his mind as he laughed loudly. We were on our second round of drinks
when Meagan leaned into the table. "I have to ask, Channing: How did you
meet my brother?"

	"Uh, well..."

	I spoke up first. "Owen."

	Meagan's eyes rolled and it was like I was looking into a
mirror. "That dick? How on Earth did you meet him?"

	"He's known for being able to make people... disappear when they
don't want to be found," Channing said, taking a sip of his drink. "I
needed some time alone and he brought me to Reagan's. What have you got
against him?"

	I snorted into my martini which prompted a dark look from
Meagan. "I'd rather not say," she mumbled.

	"They used to fuck," I supplied.

	"Reagan!"

	Joey and Channing gawked openly at her before cracking into
smiles. "What? It's the truth! In college, they were inseparable. Even
banged it out in the library a few times, if the rumors were true."

	"I'm going to murder you."

	I was rescued by the arrival of the appetizers, placed in front of
us family style. There were crab cakes, shrimp cocktail, and
mushroom-stuffed crepes. I shied away from the last, much to Channing's
chagrin. "Come on, try one," he prodded. I shook my head as I forked a bit
of crab cake into my mouth. "He's never been fond of mushrooms," Meagan
told him. "No idea why."

	"It's fungus, that's why," I griped. "It grows on dead matter."

	Channing cut a piece of the crepe, speared it on his fork, then
held it in front of my face. "Try it."

	"No."

	"Stop being a baby."

	"No."

	He put on the same pouty face he had used to get me to massage his
calf and I found myself weakened. I huffed then opened my mouth and allowed
him to feed me. As I chewed, I found myself enjoying the taste. I
begrudgingly told Channing so, which made him smile and proceed to feed me
another piece.

	I returned the favor, feeding him shrimp off my plate with my
hands. On the last, he lunged forward, snapping my fingers between his
teeth, prompting laughter from the other half of the table. I whacked him
on the shoulder, then joined the laughter myself.

	By the time the entrees arrived, I was feeling good and tipsy. My
filet mignon looked absolutely divine, but I kept eyeing Channing's rack of
lamb. When he caught me, he wordlessly cut off a few bites and placed them
on my plate. Throwing caution to the wind, I placed a small kiss on his
cheek. In return, he rested his hand on my thigh and squeezed gently,
smiling as he chewed.

	We talked between forkfuls; we talked about the movies the guys had
made, about my art, about Meagan's horses, about anything and everything. I
was extremely glad that Channing had hit it off so well with my sister,
although I felt that she was constantly observing us, even when her
attentions were elsewhere.

	The dynamic between Channing and I seemed to have lurched forward
since I had placed his divorce papers in the mail. I was no longer leery of
showing him affection and he seemed even more enthusiastic about our
emotional connection. Our conversations were peppered with light touches; a
brush of the hand against the arm, a shoulder bump, a tender grasp of the
leg. On top of that, it seemed impossible to make eye contact without a
smile following, as if we were sharing some secret joke. It was a wonderful
dinner, from beginning to end.

	Meagan's friend was kind enough to take care of the bill for us,
her only price being a picture of her with the guys. They were more than
happy to oblige, however insisting that we leave a large tip for our
waiter. Between the four of us, we all set a significant amount of cash on
the table before heading out.

	I found myself feeling a tad more drunk than I thought I had been
as we walked to the car. Channing must have noticed because he took me
under his arm which allowed me to lean on him. When I turned to look up at
him, he met the gaze, smiled and kissed my forehead. We piled into the car
as we had before: Meagan driving, Joey in the front seat, Channing and I in
the rear. I skipped the seatbelt and threw myself across the seat, resting
my head in Channing's lap and closed my eyes. I basically purred when he
began running his fingers through my hair.

	Sooner than I would have liked, we were back at the house. We
agreed to meet for a nightcap before bed and dispersed. I was none too
surprised when Meagan followed me into my room. In the time it took for me
to kick off my shoes and turn, she had shut the door, crossed her arms and
put on such a stern look that I was reminded of our mother. "Spill it."

	"Spill what?"

	"Something is amiss and we are not leaving this room until you
explain why Channing Tatum is not only in my house, but showing you a
rather... personal amount of affection."

	I sighed. "And, here I was hoping you had missed ALL of that."

	"I'd have to be blind, deaf and stupid. Explain."

	"It's a long story," I huffed as I threw myself onto the bed,
staring up at the ceiling. Meagan crossed the room and reclined next to me,
propping herself up on one arm. "Reagan, you have never had a problem
talking to me. If this is something you aren't allowed to talk about, I'll
understand. But, there's something going on with you and... well, to be
honest, I like it."

	"What do you mean?"

	"First, you seem..." She paused as she searched for the
word. "Content. Like you found something you were missing. Second, you are
out of your dungeon. And, pay attention because this one is important, you
FINALLY cut your freaking hair!"

	I couldn't help but join her laughter. "I know, I know! You like
it?"

	"I do! You look all Hollywood, which makes sense with your company,
I suppose. So, tell me. What's with all the changes?"

	"Well... I think we're kind of... talking."

	Meagan's brow furrowed. "What the heck does that mean?"

	"To be honest, I have no idea! He just sent off his divorce papers
three days ago, but we've been getting close since he first came to my
house. We hang out, have dinner, watch movies-,"

	"You've had sex with him." She said it as a statement, with no
doubt in her voice. I nodded which made Meagan sit up and purse her
lips. "Hm. You weren't kidding when you said it was a long story." There
was a short period where neither of us spoke. I was sure that Meagan was
formulating some logical advice that I desperately needed. When she finally
opened her mouth, it wasn't quite what I expected. "Go for it."

	"Wait... what?"

	She resumed her position laying next to me. "Reagan, listen. You
haven't had a boyfriend since Dallan and we all know what a tremendous
failure he was. And, since the... incident, you've done nothing but hole up
in your house, moping and playing celebrity hideaway. This could be an
amazing opportunity to make yourself happy. You'd be daft not to at least
see where this could go."

	"But, what am I supposed to do?" I asked, my mind buzzing with
questions. "Up and move to L.A. with him? Follow him around for movie
shoots? And, what if the press gets wind of this? He's not out, you know. I
mean, what if it ruins his career? I wouldn't be able to face myself. And,
what about MY career? What if - OW!"

	Meagan had cut me off with a sharp pinch on my neck. "You know I
try not to cuss, but shut the fuck up." I stared at her, stunned. "Stop
overanalyzing everything. Just take it one day at a time and see how it
works out. That's all you can do."

	I was saved the struggle of coming up with a response by a knock on
the door. "Come in," I called, still rubbing my neck wound. The door opened
slightly and Channing popped his head in. "Oh, hey. I didn't know I was
interrupting."

	"Nonsense," Meagan chirped. "Just having some family fun time."

	Channing opened the door and leaned on the frame, his body clad in
flannel pants and a loose tee. "Joey and I were just wondering if we should
wait for you guys. I mean, the bar is kinda out in the open, but we don't
want to be rude or anything." Channing looked to me for a reply and I, in
turn, looked at Meagan. She hopped off the bed. "I'll get some drinks ready
while Reagan changes."

	In a flash, she was gone, leaving me alone with Channing. As I
rummaged through my bag, he threw himself across the bed, arms over his
head. The stretch made his shirt slide up a few inches, which made my
inches stir. "I like her," he said as he gazed nowhere in
particular. "She's... spunky."

	"That's Meagan," I agreed. "My sassy sister."

	I dropped my pants and stepped into a pair of sweatpants, then
paused. Channing seemed to sense my awkwardness and sat up on his
elbows. "Are you going to change your shirt?"

	"In front of you?"

	He looked at me like I was stupid. "You just changed your
pants. And, in case you forgot, I've been inside you multiple times."

	I took a deep breath, unbuttoned my shirt and cast it aside. Then,
as quickly as I could, I reached for the tee shirt I planned on wearing. I
didn't move fast enough however, because Channing was on his feet in a
flash. "Reagan... what... what is this?"

	I suddenly felt cold and exposed without a shirt. Channing ran his
hands over my torso, his fingers tracing lines over the profusion of pink
scars that crisscrossed my back. Most were vertical, only a few
horizontal. When I didn't respond, he asked again.

	"I don't want to talk about it," I said shortly, whipping my shirt
over my head. I moved to leave the room, but Channing blocked the door and
held me by the shoulders. His eyes honed in on mine and I found myself
feeling sheepish for my behavior. "Hey, hey. We don't have to talk
about... whatever this is right now. But, we can. Whenever you want. Okay?"
I nodded and felt Channing pull me into a gentle, but firm hug. I rested my
head on his chest as he held me, emotions still running high.

	"Let's go join the after-party," he said, his deep voice rumbling
in my ear. I reluctantly released him, but not before giving him an
appreciative squeeze. He smiled as we left the room and walked
downstairs. True to her word, Meagan had four generously poured drinks
ready, each one personalized. Gin and tonic for me, whiskey for Channing,
vodka for Joey and some posh cocktail for herself. There was no toast this
time, but the air of friendship was definitely there.

	As expected with Meagan, one cocktail turned into three. When she
hopped off the couch to make the next round, I objected. "Meg, count me
out. At this rate, I'll be passed out for the rest of the weekend."

	"Lightweight," she replied, somewhat slurring.

	"I have to agree," Joey spoke up. "I've gotta tap out, too."

	Meagan furrowed her brow and looked at Channing. He bit his bottom
lip and slowly shook his head. Ever dramatic, Meagan threw her arms
up. "Fine. I guess I'll have to make hot chocolate since I'm surrounded by
amateurs." She made her way to the kitchen and I excused myself to use the
bathroom. Once my business was done, I found myself drawn to the back porch
instead of the living room. To take the chill out of the air, I turned on
the heater and curled my arms around myself.

	I had been staring out into the distance for only a few minutes
when I heard the sliding door open and close. The weight of the footsteps
let me know who was approaching before he even said a word. From behind me,
a mug of hot chocolate appeared, topped with whipped cream and chocolate
shavings. "Thanks."

	"No problem," Channing said, tapping his own mug against mine
before taking a sip. "I was told to tell you that it's your special hot
chocolate. Which means...?"

	"It's spiked."

	"Ah."

	We stood in silence as we drank, Channing rocking back and forth on
his feet as I enjoyed the warmth of the drink. It wasn't an uncomfortable
silence. Just... contemplative. I would steal glances at the gorgeous man
next to me, his lips pressed against the cup, and wonder what was going to
happen in my life. Would this even go anywhere or would it end as soon as
he had to return to the real world? I didn't have to mull over it for long
as Channing set his empty mug down. Although I wasn't quite finished, I did
the same.

	Channing took a deep breath before turning to face me. His visage
was uncharacteristically nervous as he took my hands in his. "So... there's
something I really want to say to you and I just... I need to say it, but I
don't really know how to say it right. So, just... give me a chance to get
it all out before you say anything, okay?" I nodded, mildly amused at his
jitters. When he spoke again, it was with a renewed confidence. "I know
neither of us are really in the best place. I mean, with everything that's
going on with me and Jenna... it's just complicated. And, I know there's
stuff going on with you, even if you don't want to tell me about it. And,
that's fine. It's just... I'm just saying that I know our lives are kinda
crazy right now. Me basically running away from everything worked itself
out in a way that I never expected." He paused to give me a smile. "But, I
want you to know, more than anything, that I do care about you. I'm not
looking at you to be a rebound or a fling or anything like that. I truly
have feelings for you, Reagan. I like the way we are together and I like
that I can be myself with you. I don't know if this will all work out or
even if you want to keep going, but... I'd like to try. And, if you don't
want to... well, I guess I'd have to understand."

	I studied his face, surprised that he couldn't look me in the
eye. I admired the curve of his lips, he strength of his jaw, even the
slight bags under his eyes. Then, I poked him under the chin, forcing him
to look at me. And, there, in those eyes, I saw something even more
beautiful: him. Not the physical Channing, but the Channing that had spoken
those words. The Channing that chose to bear his innermost feelings to me
and lay his heart out on the line and allow me to either stomp on it or
embrace it.

	In that look, I gave him my answer without saying a word. And, I
knew he understood. His face lightened, the tension gone. His hands moved
around my body, pulling me into him. And, just like that, he pressed his
lips to mine.

	I lost myself in the sensation. Those two pink lips were softer
than I could have imagined, like warm silk. I slid my arms around his neck,
pulling him closer and keeping him from moving away, though I had no reason
to believe he would. Our contact went on for what seemed like forever. I
was surprised, when I finally pulled away, to find us in my bed. I hadn't
remembered coming back into the house, nor did I remember us crawling into
bed together. But, I had no complaints.

	Later, he would recall to me how we stumbled past Meagan and Joey
in the living room, maintained our connection as we awkwardly climbed the
stairs, then blindly made our way into my room. Sometime in our time-warp,
we had shed our garments, Channing only in his underwear, me still wearing
my shirt. His large body dwarfed mine as I cuddled up next to him, eyes
glinting in the shadowed room.  The heat of his body radiated throughout
the bed, warming us both. However, my arousal was purely emotional.

	After an unknown amount of time, I suddenly felt the combination of
a long day, good food and lots of alcohol catching up to me. My body,
despite the mind-blowing allure of the situation I was in, began to shut
down. I tangled my legs with Channing's, scooted impossibly closer to him
and leaned in for another amazing kiss.

	And, it was amazing. So much so that I refused to stop, even when
my body cried out for sleep.

	And so, unbelievably content and at peace, I fell asleep with my
lips still kissing his...

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