~
Alex, arms crossed, paced in front of the
sofa Billy was seated on. They had a huge open-plan home not far
from Mark and Steve's house in Bel Air, and the back of the house
overlooked the Getty Museum and surrounding hills.
Billy flipped another page of the script, not
happy, appearing furious.
Alex glanced at the table at the unopened
bottle of champagne and the stemmed glasses Billy had set out in
anticipation of celebrating his making number two on the captain's
list.
He heard Billy muttering profanity under his
breath. Alex hadn't absorbed the entire story yet. Billy had taken
the script out of his hand the minute he heard Alex had been
offered a part co-starring with Randy Dawson.
Maybe Adam didn't know him, but Alex's hubby
did. And he was not pleased.
Alex stopped his pacing and faced Billy.
Billy was wearing a tattered LAPD T-shirt and
tight jeans, bare feet, looking hotter than hell, but at the
moment, Alex was annoyed Billy wasn't happy for him. Alex was happy
for Billy. Happy that Billy was going to get out of IAG and be
promoted.
Billy finished reading the script and slapped
it on the coffee table in front of him. When Alex met Billy's light
blue eyes the jealous rage was nearly unbearable.
"It's acting." Alex dropped his arms to his
sides. "It's my first chance at a big Hollywood blockbuster. It's
George—"
"You're going to be in Rome with that guy?
Kissing him? Naked with him?" Billy snarled, showing his teeth.
"It's acting!" Alex pleaded, interlacing his
fingers to beg. "Like with Tadzio and Ryan."
"You're not hot for younger men." Billy
glared at Alex.
"I'm married." Alex pointed to his wedding
rings. "Not going to happen."
"How long will you be in Rome?"
"I don't know yet. I want you to come."
"How can I come?" Billy yelled, "I'm about to
be promoted!"
Alex recoiled. "Don't take it out on me!"
Billy stood, throwing his hands up in rage.
"Fuck it. Do what you want. Fuck who you want." He grabbed the
champagne bottle and one glass.
Alex followed him to the kitchen. "I only
want you."
Billy opened the champagne, pointing the cork
at the kitchen sink and popping it. It overflowed into the basin
and then he poured a glass for himself. "Here's to me here in LA
while my star screws another man." He guzzled it.
"Why won't you trust me?" Alex felt sick.
Billy spun around and shouted, "Because it's
Randy Dawson! I know how hot that fucker is! He's just what you
want!"
"No! You're what I want!"
Hearing a knock at the door, both Alex and
Billy looked at it but neither made a move.
"I don't care." Billy shook his head as if he
were defeated. "Do what you fucking want." He left the room, taking
the bottle and glass with him.
The knocking grew louder and then Alex heard
his father calling his name. He headed towards the door and opened
it. The minute Mark saw how miserable Alex looked he held him,
rocking him and kissing his hair. "Okay, baby. Okay."
"Dad, he thinks I'll cheat." Alex choked
up.
Mark shut the door and hugged Alex tightly.
"He's just nervous. You've never had a part where you had to leave
LA."
"I want him to come, but he can't. He said
he'll be promoted soon." Alex wiped at his eyes.
"Where is he, love?"
"I don't know. He took the champagne we were
going to celebrate with and walked down the hall."
"Can I have a moment with him?"
"Good luck." Alex looked at the coffee table,
and said, "I haven't even had a chance to digest the script
yet."
"Then go. Sit and reread it. Let me talk with
him."
Alex gripped his father's arm and asked
softly, "How did you know he'd be upset?"
"Because. He is just like Steven. And Steven
would be furious." Mark pecked Alex on the cheek and walked
off.
Alex watched his dad for a minute, sighed
heavily, sat with the script on his lap, and then began reading. No
way I'm turning this down. No way.
~
Mark rapped his knuckle on a closed door.
"Oh, captain, my captain?" he sang playfully.
He heard nothing, so he opened the door and
poked his head in. Billy was seated on his bed, pouring from a
bottle into a glass.
"May I come in?"
"Whatever." Billy set the bottle on the
nightstand and gulped the contents of the fluted glass.
Mark closed the door behind him, sitting
beside Billy, staring at him. "It's work. You do realize that. He's
not running off to have an affair."
Billy's face darkened and he tipped the glass
up to get the last drop and set it beside the bottle.
"Billy, love…" Mark relaxed on the bed, lying
on his side, his head propped up on his palm. "You do realize
getting a chance to star in a George Ford film is the break of a
lifetime."
Billy rubbed his face and eyes tiredly.
"I seriously cannot imagine you denying him
that." Mark could see how muscular Billy was through the faded dark
blue LAPD T-shirt. His shoulders and biceps made the short sleeves
tight around them, and his tattoo showed; one with the barbed wire
and Alex's name scrolled into it.
"It's as if he denied you your promotion. And
he never would."
"I'm not leaving for Rome with a hot stud
whom I will be kissing and naked in bed with."
"No. But he does that already on the
show."
"Not with a man like Dawson." Billy met
Mark's eyes and Mark could see the jealousy in them.
"Because he's older?"
"He's Alex's fucking type. Those twinks on
the show aren't."
"So you think his loyalty will be
tested."
"Fuck, yeah!"
"And you can't get time off?"
"A day, yes. A month, no. I'm going to be
promoted quickly, Mark. And once I hit a new division? As captain?
I'm not going to be able to take a leave of absence like that."
"What if I were to go with Alex, to
chaperone."
"How can you do that? Leave Steve? He'd be as
pissed as I am." Billy lay back on the bed and mirrored Mark's
posture, his jaw propped up on his palm.
"He loves you, Billy."
"I know. I'm not saying he doesn't. But he's
twenty-four and needs to get fucked constantly."
"The work, being on set, is so demanding, so
draining, Alex will most likely drop off to sleep the moment he is
in his hotel room."
"Do you know Randy Dawson, Mark? Have you
ever met him?"
"I know 'of him', but no: our paths have not
crossed. He is in film, and I've just done modeling and a few guest
spots on TV. No. I've never had the opportunity to meet him."
"Is he gay?"
"I don't know."
Billy rolled to his back and stared at the
ceiling. "That script. Them kissing, touching, naked all the time…"
He scrubbed his face and eyes and Mark could see this was killing
him.
"You two…" Mark scooted nearer, touching
Billy's broad chest. "He hates your work and you don't like his.
Not an easy combination."
Billy turned to face Mark making it feel
closer, more intimate. "He's so young. Not…not like you. I would
trust you."
"It's his libido, love. He's a young man who
is constantly in need of satisfaction. I'm well…closer to your
age." Mark thought of his birthday and cringed. When he felt Billy
caress his hair Mark immediately thought of Alex walking in on them
and getting the wrong idea.
"Did I make a mistake marrying him?" Billy
cupped Mark's jaw in both his hands.
"No. Of course not. And we shouldn't be like
this. Billy, Alex will misunderstand."
"What will Alex think?"
Mark stared into Billy's blue eyes. A
captain? A fucking captain in the LAPD? Does it get any hotter than
that?"
"Dad?"
Mark jumped out of his skin and off the bed.
"Come in, Alexander." Mark ran his hand through his hair and tried
to act calm.
"Billy?" Alex pouted. A pout to melt a
glacier.
"Come here." Billy reached out to Alex.
Mark backed up, watching his son fall into
Billy's arms. When they began kissing, Mark turned away. "Right.
I'll leave you to it." He closed the door behind him and let
himself out of the house. Stopping beside his TVR sports car, Mark
stared at the rays of the setting sun. Life constantly put up
trials and tests for one to pass.
Mark glanced back at the house his son and
Billy shared, and wondered once Alex was gone off to Rome, if Billy
would come hunting. He brushed his hair out of his face as the wind
kicked up and climbed into his car.
Steve cleared the table as Adam loaded the
dishwasher and Jack wiped the counters. Once the kitchen was put in
order, Steve gestured for the other two to sit with him in the
living room to wait for Mark. He and Jack had a beer in their
hands, while Adam sipped more wine.
As they got cozy on the sofa, Adam set his
glass down on a coaster and picked up a large coffee table book of
male nudes. One Mark had posed for when he was in his early
twenties for a photographer named Janis Campbell. Male Men.
With the large book on his lap, Adam
leisurely flipped the glossy pages as Jack leaned on his shoulder,
looking at it with him.
Steve admired the two men as a pair, a solid
couple, with little or no friction between them. Adam's dark hair
and eyes a contrast to Jack's fair blue-eyed blond complexion. Two
men, both past the milestone of forty, both with high-stress
high-power jobs. No matter what life threw at those two, including
the drama of Mark Antonious Richfield and his crazy son, Jack and
Adam were forever. There was no doubt in Steve's mind.
He tipped the beer to his lips as Jack
pointed to a photo in the big flashy book. "See that horse? That's
a lot like the one Mark wants."
Adam nodded.
Steve knew that photo, Mark naked, lying on
the back of a huge white stallion. A stallion he bought after the
shoot. Dehra Dun.
Steve checked his watch. He was tempted to
call Mark. To ask why Mark thought he needed to meddle in Billy and
Alex's life. A gnawing feeling that Billy and Mark were attracted
to each other made Steve uneasy.
Captain. Captain Sharpe. Great. Just what
makes Richfield crazy. A man with rank and power in uniform.
Steve could role play, pretend he was still a
cop, but…he was not.
And ironically, it was Steve's police
presence and past that had lured him away not only from Jack, but
from Sharon Tice, a woman Mark was going to marry— to show he
wasn't gay, of course.
But, Steve had a lot of faith in Mark. Mark,
being around beautiful people, people who propositioned him, adored
him, had never strayed. At least not without consent.
Was Steve indulgent when it came to Mark?
Yes.
"Love this one," Adam said, tapping the
page.
Jack leaned closer. "Mark in the shower. I
know. Look at that ass."
"Twenty years later he still has an ass that
tight." Adam peeked up at Steve. "You okay, Steve?"
"Huh?" Steve woke from his thoughts, putting
the beer bottle down on the coffee table. "Yeah. Fine."
"Alex on the loose in Rome…" Jack said, as if
musing. "He will fuck Dawson. You do know that, right?"
"You don't know that." Adam elbowed Jack in
admonishment. "Alex has come a long way from when he first got
here."
Steve smiled to himself remembering Alex at
eighteen, showing up at their door to meet his biological father,
Mark Antonious. Well, the resemblance was remarkable. Steve saw it
instantly.
"Alex needs to fuck," Jack said, finishing
the beer and setting it aside. "He will fuck."
"He can jerk off." Adam kept turning pages of
the book.
"Jack," Steve said, slightly irritated, "He
and Billy have a solid relationship. They'll be fine."
Jack gave Steve a look as if he were insane
and then focused back on the book. Adam closed the cover and ran
his hand over it. A black and white photograph of Mark licking
Jack's cheek, one that had been framed and hung in both Mark and
Jack's bedroom had been used as the cover picture.
"I've never been on a feature film shoot."
Adam appeared to be lost in his daydream. "I've seen the television
shows being taped, but nothing is like a big budget
blockbuster."
Jack rested his head on Adam's shoulder.
"What's it like?"
"Well," Adam sighed and continued, "From what
I hear, it's exhausting. The days are full: sometimes sixteen
hours, six-day weeks…long, hot, and very challenging."
Steve looked up at a wall in their living
room. Photos of his graduation from the academy were hanging there
as well as their wedding portrait. "Then Alex will be too tired to
screw."
"He and Billy can Skype. You know, jerk off
to each other." Adam returned the book to the coffee table.
The noise of the garage door opening was
heard through the walls. Steve stared at the entrance of the
hallway in anticipation of seeing Mark.
"So much for us starting without him," Adam
said, smiling.
Steve heard the garage door lower, then the
kitchen door open. It took Mark a moment, and then he appeared,
like a vision of the pages of the magazines he posed for, at the
threshold of the living room.
Steve admired his appearance, his absolute
beauty. November. Mark's birthday month. He knew better than anyone
not to even breathe a word of that dreaded day. Mark turning
forty-two? The man looked twenty-two.
"Well?" Adam asked.
"Of course they were at it. And not in a good
way." Mark walked around the coffee table to sit beside Steve,
leaning on him. Steve put his arm around Mark and held him close,
kissing his hair.
"I think the timing is bloody awful." Mark
stared at the book on the table. "I offered to chaperone."