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and finally taking them both over the edge with drawn-out cries of satisfaction.
It was the best morning sex Garrett could ever remember having.
Well, maybe it was the only morning sex he could remember having. It had been a long time.
They lay entangled, snoozing off and on for another hour, and then finally got up to take showers before they became permanently glued together. Justin talked Garrett into braving the crowds and going out for dim sum and wandering around Chinatown looking at unidentifiable things in the market windows afterward. Garrett got him to try a sweet bean-paste dumpling that nearly made Justin gag and then was paid back by being dared to eat chicken feet.
Garrett gamely gave it a try but declared Justin the winner and tried not to flush when Justin grabbed his ass and said he’d be demanding his prize later.
“Home then?” Garrett asked, already getting a little hard at the thought of more sex.
Justin frowned. “Actually….” He looked at his watch.
“Probably not. I mean, yeah, we should get back, but then I have to go to the studio for another set of stills and any reshoots from yesterday.”
“Damn. Who knew being with a porn star meant we’d never get to fuck?” Garrett grouched.
“Hey, you wanted to go slow anyway,” Justin said, shoving him gently. “Make up your mind.”
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This time when Justin kissed him goodbye and left, Garrett didn’t feel jealous or confused or upset. He felt fucking depressed. Sure, they’d had sex and it was great.
And he really liked Justin, and it seemed that Justin liked him a lot too. But that was just the problem: he couldn’t fucking fall in love with a porn star, for God’s sake. He distracted himself with more random chores, telling himself very sternly that he was not going to think about Justin, not going to think about what he was doing at the studio right at that moment, not going to think about how very right things had felt between them all weekend. Nor about sleeping with Justin, cuddling in bed with him, watching movies with him, or Justin’s totally dorky laugh when Arnold said “I’ll be back”
in the movie last night.
And he was absolutely not going to fall in love with Justin.
KISSING Justin goodbye at the airport was supposed to be one of those moments that was sort of bittersweet and hot, like from an old movie. Instead, there was almost nothing bitter about it, and any sweetness in the kiss was thoroughly overwhelmed by
oh my God
hot…. Justin had found an out-of-the-way corner, and Garrett’s chaste Clark Gable-esque kiss was turned into something wet and deep and probing, complete with groping and grinding. Garrett was so fucking hard by the time Justin broke the kiss that he actually whimpered, reaching for more.
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backpack onto his shoulder. “I had a good weekend. Thanks for letting me stay with you.”
“No problem. I had a good time. I’m glad you came.”
Justin laughed and winked. “Me too.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “Fucker. Get out of here.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch. I’m going,” Justin said, shaking his head as he grabbed his suitcase. “I’ll call you.”
“Damn right. Or I won’t put out at all, next time.” He grinned one last time as Justin turned and walked off to the security checkpoint, waving the entire way like the dork he was under the porn-star glitz.
Shit, Garrett thought, cursing the achy feeling in his chest. He was
not
doing this. It was just stupid.
Maybe Justin wouldn’t call him, and Garrett would just let him go.
Maybe.
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III
CHAD called him on Tuesday. “What the fuck, fucker? You fall off the planet or something? Why don’t you call me anymore?”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy? With what? Aliens kidnapped you and you liked the probing a little too much? Oh, don’t even tell me you’re getting laid and haven’t told me all the details, bitch. I am coming over tonight and you’re going to seriously spill, even if I have to beat the story out of you.”
“I’d like to see you try, little man,” Garrett teased. Chad wasn’t short by most men’s standards, but at six foot four, Garrett towered over nearly everyone.
“Shut up, you giant freak,” Chad pouted. “I’ll be there at seven.”
He was late, so of course Garrett had started dinner without him. Ignoring the look Garrett gave him, Chad grabbed a beer out of the fridge and settled onto the sofa, helping himself to the bowl of chips on the table. “Make me food,” he ordered hopefully with an envious look at Garrett’s grilled ham and cheese sandwich.
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Rolling his eyes, Garrett pointedly finished eating his last few bites before going into the kitchen to make another one. Chad followed.
“So spill. You seem fucked up.”
“Thank you for your outstanding tact and sensitivity,”
Garrett grumbled while grating cheese. “Justin visited.”
“Justin?”
“Uh, ‘Alec’. The porn star guy, from Folsom.”
“Wow.” Chad’s impressed look was hardly flattering.
“How’d you manage that?”
Garrett shrugged. “We did an interview and kind of hit it off. And I had to talk to him to do follow-ups and stuff, and then he came up for the weekend for some Hawk Studios business and stayed here.”
Chad gave him a probing look. “Why aren’t you happy about that? I mean, you got laid by a dude that tons of guys jack it to. What happened?”
“Nothing. I just… like him.”
“You
did
have sex, right? I’m going to be so disappointed in you if you fucked that up, Garrett. He’s a porn star, for God’s sake. It should have been a sure thing.”
“Fuck you. He’s not… like that.” Garrett sighed. “At least, well… not with me. And we did have sex,” he added before his friend could start again. “Just not everything. But that’s because I wanted to go slow. I like him,” he said, fiddling with the sandwich in the skillet.
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He looked up as Chad sighed, a warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder for a moment. “Only you, man. Only you would fall for a porn star.”
“Yeah. I know.” Garrett flipped the sandwich over, letting it brown on the other side.
“So what are you going to do?”
Which was the whole problem in a nutshell, of course.
What to do. Let himself fall in love with Justin, try to deal with his job and all the conflicting feelings it brought up? Or just let it go? The guy was in L.A., after all, and regularly fucking other people. It couldn’t work out.
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Yeah, you do. Ideal world, man. What do you want?”
“I want Justin. I want him to live here, not in L.A. I want him to be as awesome as I think he might be. And I don’t think I want to share him with a ton of other guys for his job. I mean, it’s hot and all. But it’s kind of fucking me up.”
“Well, duh. So work on it one thing at a time. You’ll figure it out. And is that sandwich supposed to be smoking like that or are you burning my food, you emo bitch?”
WHEN Justin called the next night, Garrett was feeling a little better in his head. He hadn’t been consciously thinking about The Problem, but it sort of kept creeping up on him all day anyway. He really liked the guy, but… it had been kind of an intense weekend. Both weekends. And Garrett
hadn’t
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L.A., well, he wondered if maybe he’d been making too much out of it. It had been good, fucking incredible even, but maybe not entirely real.
It was damned nice to hear Justin’s voice again, though.
And it was flattering, too, to have such a good looking, far more sexually wild guy interested in him. They had a good conversation, not about anything in particular, just comfortable, like that night on the sofa watching movies.
Justin was funny as hell when he wanted to be, sarcastic and witty. They liked the same kind of movies, and Justin had read most of the same sci fi books that Garrett had.
They flirted a little, but nothing too heavy; enough to make Garrett feel good, like Justin wanted more, maybe, someday, but nothing demanding. Or emo. Thank God.
The next day Garrett kept catching himself grinning for no particular reason: at work, on the bus, walking up the hill to his apartment. Ellen had teased him about it when she’d run into him in the break room, saying that he looked like a man who was having some pretty good nights. Garrett stuck his tongue out at her and told her to mind her own business.
He’d spent the night alone at home, as usual.
She’d glanced at his hands in an obvious manner. “Not that I’m saying anything against flying solo, God knows, but… damn, Garrett. Did you find a new toy or what?”
“God, you’re such a perv. I just had a good phone call with a friend. A
friend
friend,” he’d clarified in response to her raised eyebrows.
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him feeling relaxed, and the appreciative glances from some of the other patrons didn’t hurt his mood a bit. Life would sort itself out. There was no need to get so worried.
Waking up in a good mood, Garrett decided to treat himself to coffee on the way to work. No one would notice, right? He wouldn’t be that late, and there was a mocha chai at the café down the block that was calling his name. His coworkers wanted him to be happy, since a happy Garrett was a productive Garrett, right? Right.
After that, his day just kept getting better and better.
The next issue at the magazine was going to be about queer political issues since an election was coming up in a couple of months, and Garrett was assigned background research on the legal areas. The same old conversations about marriage and religion and the government’s place in both came up and made for a lot of heated discussions, although most of the staff generally agreed with each other. Ellen and Jeff delighted in playing devil’s advocates, which often resulted in a much stronger piece of writing. Well, that and they liked being hardasses too. The look of evil glee on Ellen’s face as she “hypothetically” ripped into someone’s position was something that gave Garrett shivers.
On his bus ride home that night the guy sitting across from Garrett kept staring at him, so much so that he began to wonder if there was something on his face. The man smiled before Garrett could work himself into a good embarrassed panic and leaned over to hand Garrett a business card. “You’re really gorgeous, you know. Here’s my card, if you ever wanna hook up or something. Are you single? What’s your name?”
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Wow. The guy was pretty good looking; probably in his mid-to-late-thirties in a business suit and carrying a briefcase, with nicely groomed, dark skin. He looked like something out of
GQ
or a TV show, something with improbably sexy detectives like Benjamin Bratt. He fumbled for a long moment before he remembered that the stranger had asked him a question.
“I’m… kind of single?” he answered, smiling. “And it’s Garrett.”
The man laughed and reached out to tap the card.
“Well, if you decide you’re single enough, Garrett, give me a call,” he said, getting up to disembark from the bus. “I’d love to see more of you.”
Garrett practically bounced all the way home, grinning like an idiot. A
gorgeous
idiot that some random lawyer-type had tried to pick up on the bus—but what the fuck was up with him saying he wasn’t completely single? It wasn’t like Justin wasn’t fucking other people all the time. They hadn’t made any promises, but then again, that was Justin’s job, so it wasn’t quite like cheating. And they weren’t dating, anyway. Anyway, Garrett didn’t do one-night stands. Right?
Shit, his head was a mess.
“HEY Garrett, it’s Justin. I guess you’re out doing something
fabulously interesting, or at least I hope you are. Ooh, maybe
you’re at the gym, pumping iron, getting all sweaty… I
wouldn’t mind seeing that view. Well, once you get the sweat
showered off, give me a call back. Preferably before you get
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dressed. I want to talk to you naked. Bye!”
Justin’s voice was a mixture of laughter and flirtation, and Garrett couldn’t help grinning as he listened to the message.
He dialed back before could talk himself out of it and managed to catch Justin just as he returned home. They shot the shit for a while, filling each other in on the mundane details of their lives and so on. Garrett moved from the living room to the bedroom to sort laundry while they talked, since his gym clothes were in desperate need of detox.
When Justin asked about the magazine, Garrett replied,
“Work is good. The next issue is political stuff, and I’m earning my keep doing research. It’s one of the things I was originally hired for as an intern a few years ago. I like it, although of course I like writing better.”
“Well, at least it’s not something really boring like proofreading.”
“True enough. So how do
you
feel about marriage?”
Garrett asked, trying not to gag at the smell of some particularly nasty socks.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
“I’m for it?”
“No, jackass,” Garrett snorted, throwing the socks to the side. “What I meant was, you’re a young, single gay guy. If you were in a state where gay marriage was legal, do you think that’s something you might want to do someday?”
Justin hummed for a long moment. “I don’t know. I guess so. I mean, I don’t want to be single forever. I don’t have any strong feelings about marriage because, you know, with my family background, it was never something I’d When Work Is a Pleasure |
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