Anthony did stay over at Gabe's place that night, but he slept on the couch. As soon as they walked through the door, Anthony fell over on it and passed out. Gabe had to admit that some small part of him was disappointed. But he knew that a larger part of him would be glad nothing happened once the alcohol was out of his system.
He managed to get his shoes off before he crashed into his bed, but he didn't fall asleep right away. His brain was still alive with so many thoughts. What happened tonight? With Anthony? That kiss, in the booth – did it mean anything? Or was it like it had been with Charlie? Experimentation? Perhaps, just a means to an end? Of course, that would mean that Charlie never meant anything to him and that wasn't true. Not at all.
Thinking back to the times he had cum with another person, that person had always been Charlie. He didn't tell Anthony because part of him wanted to deny that the only time he had ever been able to achieve an erection, keep it going strong, and orgasm with another person was when that other person was a male. No female ever did that to him. No female was ever attractive the way Charlie was, or even Anthony was to him now. He wanted to deny it all –especially to himself.
All these years he'd been trying to rationalize it. Telling himself that perhaps he hadn't found the right woman yet. Or that maybe, in some weird way, he was asexual and nobody could do it for him in that way.
Though he could get aroused, just not to conventional fantasies and thoughts which he so rigidly forced himself to think about. It was only when he let his mind wander to those earlier days, with Charlie, that he could masturbate freely and finish himself off.
Well, except for that time after the scene with Anthony, but he didn't think about much of anything at that point. He just needed a quick release – he was already too far gone for that one.
As he finally started drifting off to sleep, he started to wonder if perhaps his brother had been right about him all along.
***
And ironically enough it was his brother who woke him up as soon as the sun came streaming through his window. Speak – or think – of the devil, and the devil shall appear. Text after text made his phone vibrate almost continuously next to him.
Finally, he woke up, drool covering his face and pillow. His boner, which had to have gone down as he slept, was already awake and ready to try again. Lifting up his head, which now hurt like hell and made the room spin, he looked at his phone. One missed call and three text messages – all from Greg.
Groaning, he pulled up the text message out of morbid curiosity, and suddenly, he was wide awake. It wasn't the words from his brother that caused his blood to run cold.
It was a picture.
Of him and Anthony at the club the previous night, in the booth, locked in kiss. His brother's message said: If it's just acting, what the hell is this? Followed by a few other choice words that Gabe couldn't bring himself to read.
Anthony was still snoring away on his couch, and while he didn't want to wake him, he felt like he needed to talk to someone.
“Anthony,” he said groggily. “Wake up, please.”
Anthony didn't respond at first, so Gabe hopped out of bed and went over to him, stirring him awake.
“Anthony, wake up,” he said. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Anthony groaned, his eyes still closed.
“Look at this,” Gabe said, his voice shaking.
He handed his phone over to Anthony who now peered out from under half-open eyelids. As soon as he realized what he was staring at, his eyes grew wide.
“What in the hell? Where did he get this?”
“That's what I'd like to know,” Gabe said, taking back his phone.
Anthony sat up, clutching his head, and reached for his phone. “I'm going to Google this shit,” he muttered.
Gabe had to admit that was a good plan, one he hadn't thought of in the midst of all the emotions running through his body. A private moment. A drunken moment. And suddenly, the whole world had access to those private, drunken moments, just because he was in one, single film?
Though he probably should have before, Gabe knew he was going to look at the tabloids in a whole different way now. They were predators. Vultures. And it just didn't seem right.
“Ah, so apparently one of the photographers last night got the picture. It was originally featured on Rainbow Brigade, but its spread like wildfire. The good news is that our names are trending on Twitter. The bad news is – well, I think you can figure that out for yourself.”
“So Nick was behind this? The guy we talked to last night?” Gabe sat down next to Anthony, fists clenched to his side like he was ready to punch someone. “And yet, he seemed so nice. I actually liked him.”
Anthony didn't say anything, he just kept reading. “Nick's name isn't on the article, so I don't know if it was him or not. Could be any of their other staff members. Hey, the commenters love us now, though. Oh and lookie here, we now have Facebook pages set up by fans. They think we're hot.”
“You think this is funny, don't you?” Gabe said, his voice rising a bit. “You think it's okay that someone shared a very private, very drunken moment with the entire world and made it into something it’s not?”
Anthony looked away from his phone, and looked over at Gabe. His face held a more serious expression for the first time since he saw the picture.
“There's not much we can do about it now, Gabe. It happened. It's making us famous online. So yeah, I'm just going to deal with it,” he said. “Don't worry, tomorrow they'll be talking about someone else. So let's just enjoy our fifteen minutes of fame while it lasts.”
“But this fame is based on a lie,” Gabe said, turning his anger on Anthony. “Don't you have a problem with that?” Gabe thought they should be on the same side here, presenting a united front. It shouldn't that one of them pissed off while the other was having a laugh about it.
“A lie? Huh. That's funny. If I remember correctly, you were the one who kissed me first, and it sure as hell didn't feel like a lie to me.” Anthony put his phone away. “Listen, man. I'm sorry your brother is a douchebag, but what happened last night did happen. Whether you're gay, curious, bi or just drunk, it still happened. And that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that.”
“Maybe for you,” Gabe muttered then reached a hand up to his nose without realizing it. He knew Anthony was right, but in that moment, he felt violated. Sure, he was stupid for thinking he could be free with his actions in public, but it wasn't like he was some big star. He wasn't used to thinking like an A-list celebrity was.
He wasn't used to living in a fishbowl or having to make sure he acted a certain way in public, regardless of how he felt in private. He never expected to be tabloid fodder, especially so early in his career.
“Why does it have to be any different for you? What's okay for me can be okay for you too, you know,” Anthony said. “You just have to be the one who's okay with it. To hell with your brother or whoever the fuck tells you it's wrong. Because they're the ones who are wrong. Not you. Not me. Them.”
Anthony was right and Gabe knew it. But his head was killing him and he was exhausted. He didn't want to think about any of this right now. He just wanted to be left alone to think. Anthony was surely sobered up by now. He'd be fine to drive home.
“I just need some time to myself to deal with this so I don't say – or do – something I will very likely completely regret.”
“I understand,” Anthony grumbled.
Gabe wasn't so sure he did understand, but in that moment, he didn't care. He had a lot going through his mind and a lot to deal with. They'd talk later. Just not now. Gabe was angry, hurt, confused and he knew if Anthony stayed around, he'd lash out and hurt him in some way. And that wasn't his intention. That was every bit as wrong as what that paparazzi scumbag had done to them.
Anthony didn't say another word and slammed the door on his way out, leaving Gabe alone with his thoughts. Gabe curled up on the couch – the couch his mother bought for him – tried to turn his mind off, and slept off the hangover as best he could.