| |
“What are you boys interested in watching?” Peter entered the screening room where Dylan was dumping popcorn from the mini theater-style popper into two bowls. “Looks like we’ve got a historical drama, a romantic comedy, and a new superhero movie.”
“What about that little French film? You know, the one that Henri sent us.” Martha spoke up from where she’d taken her usual seat; front row center.
“Martha, the boys don’t want to watch some oddball foreign film,” Peter didn’t sound thrilled about it either.
She sighed heavily. “Fine.”
“I’ll watch it with you after they go to bed, okay?” Peter promised.
Martha harrumphed, sitting back in the seat.
“What do you say boys? Drama, romance, or explosions and guys in formfitting uniforms?”
“Are you seriously asking your gay son that question?” Dylan asked.
“Tight uniforms it is,” Peter announced. They walked to the front of the room where the equipment was set up and popped the DVD into the player. “Popcorn ready?”
“Yep.” Dylan handed one of the bowls to Tyler, seated in the row behind Martha, and the other to his mother.
“Drinks?”
“Yes, dear.” Martha shook her cup of ice water at him. “Just start the silly thing and sit down.”
Peter grumbled quietly to himself, but the lights lowered and he settled into the seat beside his wife.
The opening credits started and Dylan reached for a handful of popcorn. His fingers brushed Tyler’s in the shared bowl. In front of them, Martha and Peter snuggled up to each other. Once he was sure that they were fully absorbed in the story, Dylan shifted the bowl between them to put his hand on Tyler’s thigh.
Tyler slid him a look. He was unsure of how far Dylan planned on taking the touch with his parents right in front of them. Finally, he just put his hand on top of the other boy’s, squeezing his fingers.
The movie was good. There was a certain kind of excitement to being inside the house that had been used to film the villain’s lair. Seeing it in ruin thanks to computer graphics was also bizarre.
Dylan was the first to stand when it was over, stretching his arms over his head. “Well, that was interesting.”
“It was good, wasn’t it? I’ll tell Joss we enjoyed it,” Peter told him. “You boys heading to bed?”
“I think so. It was a long day–you know, the drive and everything.” Dylan leaned over the back of the chairs pressing a kiss to his Mom’s cheek, surprising her, and then a hug to his Dad. “Good night. Enjoy your film.”
“Good night,” Peter replied, in a tone that he suspected something but wasn’t quite sure what it was.
“Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” Tyler replied, following behind Dylan. Once they were in the safety of the hall, he sighed. “Jeez, could you have been any more suspicious?”
“Shush.” Dylan grabbed his hand. “If I hadn’t gotten us out of there, they would have tried to talk us into watching that shitty French film. I tolerate my parents through a lot of things, but subtitles are not one of them. Besides, they’ll be so absorbed in making out that we can hole up in my room. They won’t even notice.”
“You know,” Tyler pulled him up short just before they were to Dylan’s bedroom, “I don’t want to push any buttons. It’s your parent’s house. I’m a guest. You’re trying to prove you’re responsible. Maybe we shouldn’t test the waters this weekend.”
“Do you want to fuck me or not?” Dylan asked.
“I want nothing more than to go to bed with you right now,” Tyler assured him.
“Then let’s go test out that bed,” Dylan suggested.
Tyler grimaced. “Dyl, I want to. I want to so badly, but only if you’re totally sure that your parents are going to be cool about it.”
“They don’t even need to know,” Dylan assured him. “Look, the security guys aren’t going to tell them that you went into my room with me. And they aren’t going to ask. They trust me. Sort of. Plus, they already know I’ve slept with you.”
“But not in their house.”
Dylan sighed, dropping Tyler’s hands. “You’re worried about this aren’t you?”
“I don’t want this weekend to be more awkward than it has to be.”
“Okay,” Dylan offered, “how about we go to your room? Then, when we’re done, I’ll be the one making the walk of shame?”
“It’s not about that.”
Dylan frowned. “It is about that. You can trust me, Ty. I mean, c’mon. The first time we met, you drove me out into the middle of nowhere to have sex in your truck. For a good five minutes, I was convinced I was going to die my first night in Tynan. What could happen here?”
“Okay,” Tyler nodded, “I trust you. Implicitly.”
Dylan leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Go to your room then. I’ll grab some stuff. Then I’ll come over.”
“If you mean condoms and lube, I am fully prepared.”
“Oh really?” Dylan raised an eyebrow.
“I never leave home without them,” Tyler teased. He leaned forward, gently biting Dylan’s bottom lip, before licking him gently as he pulled away. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
Dylan felt a shiver run down his back. “I’m going to change quick. Two minutes, tops.”
“Hurry.” Tyler swatted him gently his door. He made his way a little further down the hall to the next bedroom. Dylan watched him disappear before going into his bedroom. He threw off the polo and khakis. His shoes were kicked off into the closet. His socks peeled off and were tossed into the hamper. Then, he traded for a clean pair of shorts and ribbed tank top. He paused for a moment after opening the door. Hearing nothing, not that he had expected anything, he stepped out into the hall and calmly walked toward the neighboring bedroom. He slipped inside and found Tyler resting, already fully naked, on the bed, playing with his phone.
“Are you texting naked?” Dylan slid the lock into place before crossing the room. He lost his own clothes before crawling into the bed.
“I was looking up some tips on selecting your number for this fancy bed,” Tyler admitted, holding up the remote for the bed. “I’m kinda lost.”
Dylan grinned. “Let me help you out with that.” He leaned forward, kissing him and pressing their bodies tightly together. He took the remote and started adjusting the buttons. “Do you want it firm or soft?”
“On the firm side, but still with a little give,” Tyler told him, stroking his hand down Dylan’s bare chest. He watched Dylan and felt the bed shifting underneath him.
“How’s that?” Dylan asked after a moment.
“Hmm.” Tyler wiggled his hips, making their members rub together. “Maybe a little firmer yet. Still a little too squishy. Oh! Wait, that’s perfect.”
Dylan grinned, tossing the remote onto the side table with a clatter. Then, he lowered himself down over Tyler again. Tyler wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Tyler whispered between kisses. One leg came up, wrapping around Dylan’s thighs as he twisted, pulling Dylan beside him and then underneath him. “And you feel so good.” He hummed, pressing his lips along Dylan’s neck, then down his chest.
Dylan’s mouth opened in a gasp as Tyler put his tongue to good use. “Ah, you’re so good at that.”
“I’d like to say practice makes perfect, but that sounds a little slutty.” Tyler grinned up at him. “You have a beautiful cock.”
Dylan flushed. “Um, thanks.”
Tyler laughed, cupping him with his hand as he moved back up to kiss him again, “Relax. You’re so tense all of a sudden.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Dylan reached up, pushing a lock of Tyler’s hair back behind his ear.
Tyler leaned down for the briefest of kisses. “Is this a sexy secret?”
“No.” Dylan admitted.
“Is it pertinent to what’s going on right now?”
“Sort of.”
“Is this along the same lines of you telling me you’re only sixteen?”
“I’ve never fucked anyone in my house before,” Dylan answered.
“What?” The good vibes strumming from their entanglement stilled.
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve brought guys home with me. But usually one of us passes out before we get very far. Or you know, high as a fuckin’ kite and you so much as breathe and it’s Old Faithful in here.”
“Goddamn it,” Tyler sighed, disentangling himself from Dylan to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Ty, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just new.” Dylan bit his lip.
“Why do you tell me stuff?” Tyler scrubbed his hands across his face. “I don’t need to know things.”
“Well,” Dylan wrung his hands together, “I feel like you deserve to know stuff. I want to be honest with you. I don’t do that for anyone else besides my parents.”
“You don’t lie to your parents?”
“No,” Dylan shook his head. “I do dumb shit, and they’re the first ones to know whether I tell them or not so there isn’t much point in lying.”
“Uh huh. And if we do dumb shit here, they’re going to know. Right?”
Dylan shrugged.
“Let me recap this. I tell you that I have second thoughts about doing it in your parent’s house. You assure me, it is fine. I am butt-naked, ready to go, and now you’re telling me that you’ve never actually had sex with someone in your own house.”
“Yep.”
Tyler blew out a breath. “Dylan, we have a really messed up relationship.”
“Probably.”
He shook his head before turning and crawling back across the bed to straddle Dylan by the hips. He pressed another kiss to his lips. “I swear to god, if David or one of the other security guys comes in to break this up, I am going to be so pissed at you.”
All Dylan did in reply was laugh.
***
The next morning, Dylan knocked on Tyler’s door when he hadn’t emerged by nine o’clock. When he let himself in Tyler stirred awake.
“Hey,” Tyler grinned sleepily, “what time is it?”
“A quarter after nine,” Dylan told him, sliding into the bed. “Are you that comfy?”
“What’s the thread count on these sheets? I feel like I’m wrapped up in a big, puffy cloud.” Tyler reached for him, pulling him closer.
“I have no idea, but they’re Egyptian cotton.”
“Hmm. Don’t tell me how much they cost. Then I can dream of owning a bed just like this one day.”
“What do you think of getting up and getting brunch with my parents?”
“Do I have to?”
“I think what you’re doing to this bed is pretty indecent, so it’s probably best if you have some separation.”
Tyler’s mouth turned into a grin. “I guess. What’s the dress code?”
“Don’t look embarrassing?”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Tyler asked, looking at him appraisingly.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be fine.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing,” Tyler assured him. “You look sexy.” He confirmed the statement with a kiss before slowly edging out of the bed. He grimaced as he got up and slipped toward the bathroom.
“I think my parents like you,” Dylan called.
“Yeah?” Tyler called back.
“All they’ve done all morning is berate me about you,” Dylan told him. He heard the toilet flush and then the tap turned on.
“Berate you how?” Tyler asked, reappearing a moment later, toothbrush in hand.
Dylan shrugged. “Wanting to know your entire life story. Your family, what you do, your friends. Parent stuff.”
Tyler gave a curt nod before popping the toothbrush in his mouth and disappearing back into the bathroom.
“Basically, the same questions that they’re going to field over to you while we’re at brunch.”
“Did you tell them I’m not your boyfriend?” Tyler asked when he reappeared. “I mean, you’ve been pretty adamant about it.”
“Really? That’s your first thought of the morning? You’re a friend. A friend I fool around with. That’s all they need to know.”
Tyler shrugged, moving over to his suit case and pulling out a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans, “Okay. Whatever makes you happy.”
***
“How would you feel about catching a show?” Dylan asked. After brunch, Peter had needed to go do some paperwork at a nearby office and Martha was meeting with her personal shopper, leaving the two of them to fend for themselves in the city.
“What kind of show?”
“Broadway. Off Broadway. Off-off Broadway. A movie. I don’t care, otherwise we can go back to the house and hang out.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Tyler told him. “Broadway has never particularly been my thing though.”
“That’s because you haven’t been to the right show,” Dylan chided. “But fine. Screening room? We’ve still got those other screeners to watch or basically anything your little heart could desire.”
“Okay,” Tyler agreed. “Let’s go hang out at your house. Although, I feel weird calling that place a house.”
“You could always call it The Castle; that’s what I used do,” Dylan observed. “Then it was pointed out to me that calling my residence that was kind of pretentious.”
“Ah, but I don’t live there.”
“So instead, you’ll sound awestruck.”
“Guilty,” Tyler shrugged.
“I’ll call David to pick us up.” Dylan pulled out his phone.
“Why don’t we just hail a cab?”
“I’m rich. I don’t hail anything.”
“Have you thought about getting your license?” Tyler asked after he’d hung up.
“Why would I do that? I live in the city. If I need a ride, I have practically an entire fleet of cars at my disposal.”
“Now that sounded pretentious,” Tyler teased.
Dylan blushed. “You know what I mean. I’m practically this generation’s Paris Hilton. I’ll never have to work for anything.”
“You aren’t arguing your case here. I’m pretty sure Paris Hilton can drive. And works. Sort of.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?”
“That you’ll humor me and think about driving school. Getting licensed in New Jersey is probably cheaper than here. Although, we’re close enough to the boarder in Tynan, you could find a class over the state line.”
“Hmm, humoring you...humoring you... Yeah, thought about it and the answer is no. I don’t want a license, okay?”
“Why not? Don’t you understand the freedom of a license?”
“Don’t you understand New York City? It’s illogical to get a license here.”
“You don’t have to live your whole life here.”
“I know that, but any big city is going to have public transportation, cabs, whatever.”
“Like you’ve ever been on public transit.”
“It’s there if I ever need it.”
“Are you afraid of driving?”
“What? No.”
“You totally are. Have you ever driven before? You have that huge drive way and you’ve never so much as backed up the car or parked it, have you?”
“We have staff for that.”
“This must be what they refer to as a First World Problem. You can bet the little kids living in Africa have tooled around the Serengeti in a Jeep.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re getting defensive so I know I must have hit a nerve.”
Dylan’s mouth tightened into a thin line. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Fine. I don’t like the idea of driving. There are too many rules and people and bicyclists waiting to get run over. I don’t want to drive because I’m pretty sure I’d kill somebody. Also, cars are bad for the environment.”
Tyler laughed, throwing his head back. People on the street gave him sideways glances and a wide berth.
“Dyl, I love you, but you can be so odd.”
There was a sudden calm that washed over them as the words hit home. Dylan’s face reddened. He stepped back to the edge of the curb; just as the black sedan pulled up beside them.
“Dyl, I’m... Christ,” Tyler sighed as David popped up from the driver’s seat.
“Problem sirs?”
“No David, we’ve got it,” Tyler ducked into the back seat next to Dylan. David merged back into traffic smoothly once they’d both buckled in. Dylan crossed his arms over his chest, burrowing down into the seat.
“Take it back,” he spoke up after several minutes of silence.
“Sir?” David looked at them in the mirror, confused.
Dylan ignored him. “Take it back, Tyler.”
“No,” Tyler shook his head, “I could have done it better, but I’m not taking it back. It’s out there, and I’m glad.”
“Bullshit. Just take it back, rephrase it, I don’t care, but you don’t love me.”
“Don’t dictate my feelings,” Tyler spat. “We’ve been tip-toeing around it for weeks now. I want to have a real relationship with you.”
“And I told you that I don’t do that.”
“Then at least admit that you love me too. That’s all I want.”
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
“Now who’s dictating feelings?” Dylan retorted. “I don’t love you, Tyler. I don’t know if I’m even capable of loving someone.”
“Of course, you are. Why wouldn’t you be?”
Dylan turned back to their driver. “David, when we get back, how much time before we can leave for Tynan?”
“Umm,” David was flummoxed, “Tynan, sir?”
“Yes, you know. Where this idiot lives. My parents banished me there for the summer.”
“You aren’t departing back until tomorrow morning, sir. I don’t think your parents would be very pleased if we simply left without telling them.”
Dylan scowled, glaring at the back of David’s head.
“When they return, I can ask them about departing after dinner?”
“That isn’t soon enough,” Dylan grumbled.
“David, is there a bus station nearby?” Tyler asked.
“Nearby, Mr. Norse? Well, not really.” David’s usually calm demeanor dropped entirely. “Is something going on that I should be aware of?”
“No,” Tyler shook his head. “Dylan is an insecure child who doesn’t have the capacity to realize that love isn’t an emotion that you turn off and on.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Dylan snapped. “David, I don’t give a shit what happens to him, but I don’t want to see him until we leave for Tynan.”
“Understood sir,” David’s voice held an underlying note of sympathy. Though Tyler couldn’t tell who exactly it was for.
When David parked the car outside the main entrance, Dylan got out as quickly as he could and rushed for the steps. David turned in the driver’s seat to look at Tyler.
“He just needs to cool down, sir. Would you mind accompanying me to the security offices?”
“Sure,” Tyler agreed, “not like I have anywhere better to be.”
“On the bright side you get to see the cool underground areas. Stay close to me. It is possible to get lost down there.”
With that, Tyler’s interest with piqued. David parked the sedan in the garage which housed, among other things, an antique Ford, a 1930s Studebaker, a few 60s muscle cars, and 3 motorcycles in various states of repair, as well as a large black SUV with tinted windows that just screamed Bullet proof, don’t bother.
“Whoa,” Tyler whistled, getting out of the car and looking around. “Did I just step into Jay Leno’s garage?”
“We hardly have the collection that Mr. Leno does,” David scoffed. “But, we do have some nice vehicles.”
“Do they run?” Tyler ran his hand over the hood of one of the muscle cars.
“All except the motorcycles, which are Mr. Montgomery’s newest projects, and the Porsche. The rest are in perfect working order.” David led the way toward a gray door that blended almost perfectly into the wall.
The underground was literally a labyrinth of hallways that ran beneath the castle for easy access to every part of the building. The security room was manned by two others that day. Kenneth, who had shown them in the day before, and a man introduced as Dakota. The two sat in opposite chairs, scanning small monitors of just about every single room and hallway in the castle. including most of the bedrooms. Two were black; which Tyler figured were the Master Suite and Dylan’s bedroom. However, as he looked, he picked out the guestroom where he was staying; tell-tailed by the open suitcase on the chair. Then it dawned on him.
“Oh shit. Dylan alluded to cameras, but I didn’t think he was serious. You guys totally saw us fucking last night, didn’t you?”
“It’s a bad angle for that,” Dakota said airily. “Besides, we basically watch long enough to make sure you’re not a psycho and then we turn off the monitors. Most of the time.”
“Don’t say shit like that,” Kenneth hissed. “Especially with the boss in the room.”
“What do you mean by psycho? I mean, just so I know where to keep my hands for future reference.”
“It’s an intuitive thing. You seem safe enough. I much prefer you with your pants on. I shut the monitor off pretty quick. No offence.” Dakota tossed him a grin.
Tyler felt his cheeks redden, and he leaned back awkwardly against the wall near the door. “So, um, this is quite the operation in here.”
“I’m sure it seems like over kill to a civilian.” Kenneth hadn’t turned from the monitors.
“Civilian?” Tyler repeated.
“Sorry,” Dakota apologized for his coworker, “Kenneth has only been out of the service for six months; he’s still in military mode.”
“Are you all ex-military?”
“Basically. Not a lot of job opportunities for vets. But, security and police work are popular choices. The military gives us a certain set of marketable skills,” Dakota replied.
“With that in mind, what do you do for fun?” Tyler asked. “I’m getting the vibe you’re the kind of guys who frequent bars and shooting ranges.”
“Bars, yes,” Dakota grinned, “shooting ranges, not so much.”
“You should come out with us tonight.” David had relaxed in the sanctity of the office. “Mora is meeting us for drinks at Charlie’s. Dylan will probably still be pissed for a while. Peter and Martha aren’t going to let their baby go home a night early. They’re too excited to have him back in the house.”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call any of them by their first names,” Tyler mused. “It’s a little weird. And I liked Mora; I’d like to see her again.”
“Yeah, we drop all the sir’ing and the mister and missus’ing when we’re in here,” Dakota explained. “It’s gets kind of exhausting.”
“Speak for yourself,” Kenneth scoffed.
“He’s kind of a killjoy, ain’t he?” Tyler observed.
David hid a grin and Dakota let out a laugh. Kenneth glared at his monitors, but didn’t say anything further.
“So, you guys just hangout in here and watch people doin’ it in the privacy of their own bedrooms all day?”
“Only when we have guests,” Dakota replied. “Mostly we watch the gates more than the rooms. Although, we had a maid that was stealing. She was a sneaky little witch. Took us almost a month to catch her in the act.”
“That doesn’t happen often does it?”
David shook his head. “We sometimes have to keep a closer eye on the actors and film crew who get a little adventurous, but for the most part there isn’t anything super valuable or anything we’ll miss in those areas. It’s when they breach into the private and main sections that we have to have a chat with them.”
“And by chat you mean breaking kneecaps?”
“Only the annoying ones. We convince them that it was an accident though,” Dakota retorted.
“I like you guys when you’re not being uptight and butler-y.” Tyler decided.
“Robert and Mr. Montgomery are pulling into the driveway,” Kenneth broke in.
“I’ll go meet them and explain about the Dylan situation,” David stood up and straightened his jacket. “Tyler, you’re good hanging out here?”
“Can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be,” Tyler quipped.
“Good. I’ll be back directly.”
“Take your time. We’ll keep him occupied and out of trouble,” Dakota promised.
“I doubt that severely.”