Billy removed his gun and wallet, setting them on the nightstand. He hung up his suit, but it needed dry cleaning. He emptied the small carryon bag, and replaced his toiletries.
When he tossed the bag into a closet, Alex was there, holding a cold beer for him.
“Thank you, babydoll.” Billy kissed him and took the beer.
Alex sat on the bed, taking off his shoes and socks. “Billy. I’m okay.”
Billy stood near the bed, and guzzled the beer, then set the empty bottle down on the dresser. “I blame myself. I left.”
“Billy.” Alex exaggerated a pout. He patted the bed.
Billy sat down beside him and rubbed his face. “I fucked up. I always fuck up when it comes to you.”
“Stop it. You don’t.” Alex hugged him.
“I left. You wrapped early. You got drugged and attacked.”
“I’m okay. Jeremy was—”
“Yes. Jeremy was there to save you.” Billy tried not to sneer, since he was very grateful. “Did you fuck?”
“No.”
“No?” Billy glanced at him. “Didn’t suck his dick in thanks?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because, not only do I love you, but you scare the shit out of him.”
Billy thought about it and started to laugh.
“You do.” Alex chewed on Billy’s neck.
Billy rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face. “I failed you.”
“Will you stop it?”
“I went to that ridiculous funeral instead of being by your side.”
“And what are we supposed to do? Huh? Get into my time machine and go back? Snap out of it, Sharpe. I’m fine!”
“What do you see in me?” Billy peeked at him. “I’m fucking up your career. I’m not there when you need me—”
“Stop. That’s my captain you’re talking about.”
“You should be with a guy like Runner. He’s younger than I am. He’s an actor. You guys have amazing chemistry.”
“He’s not you. I don’t want him.”
Billy interlaced his fingers and studied Alex’s expression. “You don’t want Runner.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love someone else.” Alex kissed Billy’s cheek. “Wanna see the tattoo I have of my policeman’s lieutenant badge? It says, ‘Billy’ and ‘Forever’.”
Billy tried to smile. “I was hoping you could make it into a Chief of Police badge. Now I’ve even fucked that up.”
“Did you find out?”
“Nope. I tried to get an update. Nothing back yet.”
Alex knelt in front of Billy, on the floor. He held Billy’s hands in his. “Hey.”
Billy met Alex’s gaze.
“I thought after the film was done, I’d be sunk. I figured I’d sit on my fucking ass, looking for another film and get nothing.”
“Not you.” Billy caressed Alex’s hair. “You’re the most wanted man in Hollywood.”
“Ha! You know how fickle this industry is. You heard what Adam said. Keith’s film premier in Utah sucked.”
“Why?”
“Adam said Carl called him. They left after the first showing.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It means, the film had three more screenings, but the first one was so badly received, they flew back to LA.”
“Ouch. Poor Keith.”
“And Carl can’t get another film. After!” Alex was almost yelling from his anger. “After, he won Best Actor.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re out!”
“Alex. Calm down.” Billy reached for him.
“And Jeremy said the same thing. He won’t come out. He can’t!” Alex became upset, his eyes getting watery and red. “I’m out! Oh, right, now, since I’m young, everyone is cool. But, Billy, I have no future!”
Billy reached for him and held onto him. “No. You’re wrong. You have an amazing career ahead of you.”
“What if I don’t? Huh? What if Jackie hadn’t found out they were in breach of my contract? Charlotte didn’t even know! Will and Derek didn’t know! They lied! They blamed my film studio!”
Billy held Alex tighter, cupping his head. “Okay. Calm down. We’re fine.”
“We have to be,” Alex said in tears, “Don’t you get it? My grandmother died and left Dad and me nothing! She was a fucking zillionaire. Billy! I have to be okay. You have to be okay. Or I’ll turn into Dad and take valium.”
Billy pulled Alex down on the bed with him, comforting him. “I missed you. So fucking much.”
Alex sobbed against Billy’s cheek. “Me too. I hate filming away from you. I die.”
“Stop. I never should have left!”
Alex sat up on Billy’s legs and wiped his eyes. “Can we just take it a day at a time?”
“Yes. Please. My head is about to explode.”
Alex kept wiping at his eyes. “I have a new TV series. You will get your top cop job. You will.”
“Come here.” Billy drew Alex into his arms, kissing him over and over. “I don’t deserve you.”
“I love you so much.”
Billy closed his eyes and held onto Alex like his lifeline. “And I’d be lost without you. Never leave me.”
“Never.”
Billy rolled over so he was on top of Alex. They met gazes. They both went for each other’s mouth and kissed. Billy tasted Alex’s salty tears on his skin and parted to pull off his shirt, then Alex’s. Alex yanked his jeans and briefs down his legs, as Billy undressed and shoved their clothing off the bed.
They kissed again, rolling around and whimpering against each other’s lips.
Billy moaned in agony at having Alex in their bed, back home, to enjoy, to devour. He kissed his way down Alex’s smooth chest to his nipples and then his cock. Billy spread Alex’s legs and sucked him as deeply as he could.
Alex moaned and reached into the nightstand for the lube.
Billy released his suction on Alex’s cock and nuzzled into his balls, going out of his mind. He licked the tattoo on Alex’s pelvis and Alex held out the gel. Billy sat up, took it, and used it on his hand.
“Take me,” Alex whispered, like the sex god he was.
A flash of fire hit Billy and he went back to sucking Alex, pushing his fingers into Alex’s ass.
“Yes!” Alex raised his hips off the bed. “More! God, more!”
Billy’s cock throbbed as he worked his fingers into Alex’s ass and felt Alex’s cock go rigid in his mouth.
“Billy! More!”
Billy corkscrewed his fingers into Alex and then grabbed the base of Alex’s cock and pulled on it to his mouth, fucking him with his hand at the same time.
“Ah! Ah! Billy!”
Billy moaned in bliss as Alex came in his mouth. He swallowed and sat upright, tugging Alex’s legs to his lap. Billy shoved his cock inside Alex and hammered into him.
“Ah! Fuck! Ah!” Alex arched his back and his dick shot out more creamy cum.
Billy clenched his jaw and stared at his gorgeous superstar husband, thrilled he was back home, back in his bed, and in his arms. Billy shifted his weight to crush Alex under him and thrust deep and hard.
“Ah! Fuck!” Alex threw his head back and more cum sprayed from his dick.
Billy felt the orgasm slap him senseless. He coughed on the intensity and pushed inside Alex as deeply as he could, connecting himself to Alex so they were one. He came, his cock throbbing strongly inside the tight heat of Alex’s body. Alex went crazy when he felt it and reached to kiss Billy. Billy and he met mouths and were panting like wild stallions after a sprint.
Billy thrust in a few more times until the climax waves lessened, then he dropped down on Alex’s body and sucked on Alex’s tongue, and kissed him, kissed him, and kept kissing him, until they had to part to gain air.
Alex’s chest heaved under him. He recuperated, exhausted, and sexually sated.
“My captain.” Alex smiled. “Oh, my God!”
Billy started to laugh. “Yeah. That was good.”
“Good? Good?” Alex choked with laughter.
Billy’s phone rang. “Oh, no. Not now.” Billy didn’t want to move.
Alex hugged him. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s important.”
“Nothing is as important as you.”
They smiled at each other.
“Go on,” Alex teased.
Billy moaned and wiped his hand on his own thigh, then picked up the phone. He looked at the caller ID. He sat up and listened to his voicemail.
‘Captain! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Well! Welcome to the Santa Monica police department. We had a vote, and you were unanimously accepted for the position of Chief of Police. Congratulations.’
Billy gaped at Alex.
He appeared worried. “Uh oh.”
“No! It was Dawn Drescher. I got the job!”
“No!” Alex’s eyes went wide. “You got the top cop position?”
“I did!” Billy was giddy.
Alex leapt on him and kept kissing him. Billy managed to put the phone down and rolled on the bed with Alex.
“Wow.” Alex made a silly face at him. “I’m going to be sleeping with the Chief of Police?”
“Ha!” Billy was as shocked as Alex.
“Dad will be so jealous!” Alex laughed.
Billy fell to his back to digest the news. “I got it. Holy shit.”
Alex crawled on top of him. “How could they say no to you?”
“Holy shit. I’m stunned.”
“Mmm!” Alex squirmed all over him.
“Holy-motherfucking-shit.”
“I think we need a huge party. Huh? All your police buddies, maybe Hunter and Blake, Josh and Tanner, the whole gang?”
Billy kept trying to believe it. He had thought the miserable rumors had killed his chances. But, truth won out. And the trolls that sought to destroy both him and Alex, had lost.
Alex hugged Billy tight. “Congratulations, Chief.”
“Ha!” Billy shook his head. “I’m speechless.”
Alex leaned up on his hands to stare at Billy. “No. You’re magnificent.”
Billy grabbed Alex and wrestled with him playfully. “You’re going to be fucking a top cop.”
“I already have been, handsome.” Alex smiled wickedly at him.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.” Alex cupped the back of Billy’s head, and brought him to his lips.
~
Mark awoke.
Even though the pills helped him fall asleep, they didn’t keep him sleeping. Nights meant hell. Nights meant being drugged. And, nights meant his brain had time to go off the rails.
Steve was sound asleep beside him.
Mark peeked at the clock. It was just after midnight. It didn’t help that they went to bed early. Nor did it help he and Steve had to go to work tomorrow.
They could have asked for the whole week off, but Mark knew Harold Parsons counted on him and Steve to reel in the biggest accounts.
Mark moved off the bed, trying not to wake Steve. He entered the bathroom and relieved himself, then brushed his hair and stared into his eyes. Modeling shoot this Saturday. I’m as ready as I can be.
Mark touched his chest, smooth from waxing, the Botox had worked, so his face was flawless, and his muscles showed under his skin from not eating.
He left the bathroom and instead of trying to get back to sleep and tossing, and most likely disturbing Steve, Mark headed to the bottom floor. Maybe a warm cup of decaffeinated tea will help me wind down.
When he walked by the sofa in the living room, he realized the box had been opened. He turned on a lamp on a side table and sat down near it, staring at the photo albums. Years ago, before the estate in Paradise sold, Mark had located family videos that his father had taken. At first Mark thought they were average family movies, until they took a dark turn, and his father had actually been perving on him. It was something he suspected, but the videos were proof.
As he looked into the box Harry had shipped, Mark dreaded more of the same. Steve obviously has looked. Mark removed the top album and leafed through it. It was of his mother and father with a new baby boy. Him.
He took another album and there he was, in his little league outfit, another photo was of him with his first horse, looking like a normal kid. When did it all go wrong?
Mark could see his mother had only photographs from when he was very young. As Mark aged and went off to college, no more pictures were taken by his family.
He set them back into the box, and thought hard about his parents. Why had he become so messed up mentally by them? And… was it fair he still felt the need to blame them? He was forty-four. Certainly old enough to take responsibility for his actions.
Or do we ever grow out of it? Does a person finally shed the skin of his parents’ influence and shake off the internal dialogue of self-doubt and hatred?
Mark stood and climbed the stairs quietly back to the bedroom. He knew Steve was a deep sleeper, and envied him for it. Inside the dim walk-in closet, Mark dressed. He left the bedroom. On his way to the garage, he picked up his leather jacket and keys.
He had a replacement for his horse now. Not that he would ignore his lovely white stallion, but there was no way to ride him at night.
He now owned a fiercely fast ‘duc’ he could escape on. He pocketed his house keys, and put on his helmet. As he straddled the motorcycle, Mark hoped the garage door opening didn’t wake Steve.
He rolled it out of the garage, shut the garage door, then started the motor. In the wee hours of the morning, Mark took off down the road, feeling the sense of freedom that came with being on a powerfully built speed machine. He loved it in his TVR, adored it in his horse, and now?
The only thing faster than this, would be to learn how to pilot his own jet.
Mark immediately headed to the Interstate. Only a few cars were on the road, and even the transients had camped for the night. Mark was alone on the freeway. He shifted the gear and with a straight vacant road ahead, traffic free, he indeed, needed to hit that century mark, and he would.
~
Jack lay beside Adam in their beachfront home. The noise of the hypnotic waves lulled them to sleep. But tonight, Jack fell into a nightmare.
It began with him in his law office, walking through the halls, like narrow tunnels of white light. He heard voices, conversations in outer rooms, but couldn’t figure out who was talking. Then, the dream shifted to being outside. Jack was walking the college campus, looking for Mark. Young, long-haired, Mark Antonious- his roommate. And Jack had pined for him ever since he laid eyes on Mark. They met playing baseball on the college team. Jack was so smitten by Mark, he basically stalked him until Mark became confident in their friendship.
Jack was in blue-ball hell back then, jerking off to a man sleeping in the next room.
In his dream, the campus became a maze of paths and towering buildings. Jack called for Mark but he couldn’t find him. Next, Jack was in a hospital, again, searching for Mark. It was so disorienting, Jack had to use the walls to guide him. He kept calling Mark’s name again and again, finally seeing him in a bed, hooked up to tubes and monitors.
Jack began to grow upset, and stared down at him. Once more the dream changed, and Jack was standing over an open coffin, with Mark lying still as death inside it.
He jolted and sat upright.
“Babe?”
Jack touched his face and was drenched in sweat.
Adam asked, “Jack?”
“Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” Jack got off of the bed and entered the bathroom, splashing his face. He looked into his own blue eyes and that last image of Mark dead in a coffin made him cringe. He dried his face, relieved himself, and checked the time. It was after one a.m. and both he and Adam had to work in the morning. Jack flushed the toilet and rinsed his hands, then he stared at himself once more. He had known Mark Antonious longer than any of their friends had. Knew Mark better than anyone, maybe even Steve.
Jack closed the toilet lid and sat down to calm himself after the miserable nightmare.
“Jack?”
He looked up at Adam. Adam’s concern for him was obvious. Jack reached for him and Adam stood in front of him, caressing his hair. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No.” Jack held onto Adam’s hips and closed his eyes.
Adam, knowing Jack very well, let Jack quietly get through the lingering fear of the dream. Jack rested his head on Adam’s low abdomen as Adam caressed him lovingly.
After a moment, Jack stood, and Adam backed up.
Adam’s expression of concern was intense.
Jack turned off the light. “Let’s go back to bed.” He followed Adam and they climbed under the covers once more. Adam held onto Jack kissing his shoulder and neck.
As the image of Mark in a coffin haunted Jack, he felt his eyes burn with tears. He scooped Adam into his arms and Adam rested on top of him.
When Jack let out a sob, unable to contain it, Adam appeared to have had enough.
“What was the dream about?” Adam cupped Jack’s face.
Barely able to put the sentence out there, Jack mumbled, “Mark had died.”
It was all Adam needed to know. He embraced Jack and squeezed him tight.
As Jack fought the idea that yes, one day, he would lose his best friend, his lover, and a man he adored like a second husband, Adam, his rock through all the Richfield drama, was with him. Jack kissed Adam in gratitude and tried to get back to sleep.