Date: Thu, 9 Feb 2006 21:20:58 -0800 From: Christopher Subject: Breaking Through Part 1 This is fiction. I don't know Jake Gyllenhaal and this little story doesn't imply anything about him or his sexuality, but I'd do just about anything to have him all to myself. Feedback is greatly appreciated and any writer will tell you that they live for it, and I'll answer every single one. Questions, comments, loved it or hated it? Shoot me a message at christopherrluu@gmail.com. Thanks for reading. Part I "I'll have a grande latte with extra foam," Chris said. It was amazing how quick the turnover was for Starbuck's. Every day he came in and every day he got the same thing, but just about ever other week, there'd be a new cashier who he'd have to acquaint himself with all over again. They usually got it after a few days. Chris' disheveled hair and distressed leather messenger bag were pretty distinguishing. So was his punctuality. He showed up at the same time every day to get his coffee. He'd drink half of it while checking his email right in the coffee shop and then walk across to the beach to write for a few hours. It was like clockwork five days a week. "I'll have the regular," Chris said to the barista. She'd been there for about two weeks now and even though she wasn't there every morning, she caught on after just a few face-to-face meetings. That alone made her one of Chris' favorite people. "Regular, huh? Must be nice to...," said a voice from behind Chris. He didn't turn around to acknowledge the voice behind him. The person never finished saying whatever he was going to say, so Chris guessed they were waiting for a response, not a cold shoulder. "Have a good day, Olivia," Chris said to the girl before grabbing his coffee and going to his regular chair in the corner. "Rough mornings?" The customer behind him asked Olivia. "Chris? No. Just odd. Artist-type, you know?" The man nodded. "Artist? Sounds like my kind of work." He said with a chuckle. "No, he's a writer, sort of an outsider even though he grew up here." "And he's here every morning?" "The other baristas joke that you can set your watch by it. So what'll you have?" "Oh," he said, turning his head away from Chris's silhouetted form by the window. The fog rolling in from the beach and the hazy sunlight made him look like a dark shadow against the gray sky. "Large coffee, the dark stuff." "Can I get a name with that?" Olivia asked. "Oh, for Jake." *** Jake waited outside the coffee shop, keeping an eye out for the cute tortured writer that had caught his eye yesterday. He was so distracted that scripts that he had meant to read were left forgotten while he took a walk in the hopes of seeing him again. There was just something about him that Jake couldn't shake. As he was about to step into the shop, he saw Chris walk around the corner. He obviously lived close; Jake had noticed yesterday that he walked out of the shop onto the beach after his coffee. He opened the door and went inside, and there was Olivia again. "I guess he started a trend?" Olivia asked. "I guess so, I'll have a large coffee, the dark stuff." Jake made sure to linger at the counter, still not sure why he was so engrossed in the whole routine of another person. Chris walked up to the counter and ordered his regular, just like yesterday, and just like yesterday, he took the corner table and opened up his laptop. He noticed Chris' long, slow sips and his quick, fervent typing. He also noticed Chris' lean frame under his black sweater and dark jeans. He seemed to be in a world of his own. When the door opened or when a car sped by, he was left unfazed. He kept typing, kept sipping his coffee. Jake wondered what would happen if he got interrupted, would he panic? Would he be okay with it? For Jake at least, there was no way to tell. Jake had no idea that stopping at this particular Starbucks would affect him so much. He didn't know what he was feeling. He didn't even know the guy. He decided that he was just curious, how did someone live his life the way Chris seemed to. It was something out of a movie, not real life. 'It's time for a rude awakening,' Jake thought. He was always one to stir the pot, spice things up, but here, it seemed almost rude to just interrupt someone. He was never one to be overly polite. Jake zipped up his hoodie, grabbed his coffee, and sat down right next to Chris, and not surprisingly, he just kept typing. "Jake. Saw you here yesterday, nice to meet you." He said. "Good morning." Chris replied, offering his hand. Jake was satisfied already, he managed to crack the surface with a standard greeting. This was going to be easy. The two shook hands and Chris went right back to typing. "What are you working on?" Jake asked. "Just working." "What do you do?" "Write." "Yeah, um..." Jake didn't know what to do. Here he was putting himself out there and getting the cold shoulder. He looked around, noticing that the other customers hadn't paid him any attention. "What do you do?" Chris asked. "You're obviously not retired, which is weird, because people normally don't hang around coffee shops until eleven, you know? In-and-out is more their style." "I'm actually between jobs right now." Jake replied. He realized that there were no photographers outside, and his fan-base wasn't made up of retired geriatrics, but there was no reason to mention his real job to a complete stranger. "A tough world out there, that's for sure." "Is that what you write about?" "Sometimes." The conversation, civil and scripted as it seemed, let Jake take notice of Chris' dark eyes, the way he seemed to absorb every word that he heard, the way he chose his words with such intense thought. Jake offered his hand again and it was met with a firm shake. "Good to see you again, maybe we'll see each other around." Contrary to popular belief, Chris didn't mind the interruptions that were sprinkled throughout his day. He knew that most people thought he was a loner, an oddball, but he liked it when the mailman stopped to talk to him when he was typing out on the patio sometimes, or the way Frisbees came hurtling towards him on the beach sometimes. He just preferred to be an observer, that's what writers are, after all. They just write what they see, be it in their heads or through their eyes. Chris saw that Jake was nervous; his toe was tapping the entire time he'd been in the coffee shop. He also noticed his blue eyes and brown hair, his square jaw rough with stubble. Saw the dog hair sprinkled around the hem of his hoodie, saw more than Jake would ever imagine. This was definitely an interruption he didn't mind. "You're new here, aren't you?" "Yeah, just got a beach house for me and my dog. I've lived in LA for a while, needed a change," he said. Chris decided that work could wait today. It'd been too long since he'd made a new friend, Starbuck's baristas notwithstanding. It was good to have some new blood in the neighborhood. "Nice, maybe we'll see each other around some more," Chris said, shutting his laptop. Before Jake could mutter an objection, he was packed up. One last firm, warm handshake and he was gone. Jake sat back in his chair, watching as Chris disappeared through the fog toward the beach. There was something about Chris, maybe it was his nonchalance paired with what seemed like a rigid routine, maybe it was his dark eyes. He couldn't figure it out, but he was going to try. When Chris opened up his laptop again, he couldn't concentrate. He had the beginnings of three or four stories he was working on, knowing for sure that they'd all be scrapped in the coming weeks. He loved writing by the beach, the sound of the waves, the smell of the ocean always managed to let him clear his head and just write down everything that came to him. He tried his best to just write, most of the time it was just an exercise, like working out or practicing an instrument, but when he really got going, he felt like it was running a marathon. Nonstop writing and lost sleep were what got him his first book published, but now, he didn't feel that same drive anymore. Something was missing. He looked out across the ocean, hoping for something that would strike him, but all he could think about was how the blue right at the horizon was almost the exact same color as Jake's eyes. *** "Were you waiting for me?" Chris asked the next morning. Jake was standing outside the Starbucks, a cup in each hand. "They know what you want without me having to ask," Jake said, handing Chris one of the cups. "I usually don't take food from strangers," Chris said, noticing Jake's ear-to-ear grin, "but thank you. You didn't have to. We barely know each other." "I was thinking we could change that," Jake said, "I mean, I got you a coffee. You owe me." Now it was Chris' turn to smile. "Ok, well, I guess we could." Maybe this was exactly what he needed to write his next book, maybe change was what he needed. "Christopher Lewis." "Jake Gyllenhaal." Chris almost burnt his throat with his coffee, but he managed to sustain his composure. He never expected to see a celebrity here in his quiet sleepy beach town. It was obvious that the hippies and the retirees would leave Jake alone, but here he was at a loss for words. "'Between jobs?' Are you kidding me?" "Well, I'm not working right now, taking a break, you know? That's what people do between jobs if I'm not mistaken," he said, still grinning. "Well, are we going to stand here all day?" "Where do you want to go?" "I don't know my way around here, I was lucky to find this place to get coffee in the morning." "We can go to the beach?" Chris suggested. "I've had enough of the beach," Jake said, "is that all there is to do around here?" "There's bingo on Thursday nights," Chris joked, "so it's your place or mine." "I didn't think you'd be that easy," Jake said. "I didn't think you were looking," Chris said before sipping the last of his coffee. "I'm full of surprises." Chris was just confused now. Mixed messages, nervous smiles, and awkward silences were not something he was used to. Here he was, standing with a witty, handsome, charming man and he was pretty sure things were going well. "Well, my place is full of boxes," Jake said, his hands running through his messy hair. "I guess we don't have a choice then, let's head out." Jake followed Chris down the street and up a small hill. "So you grew up here?" Jake asked. "No, I was new here once too. Takes time to be a regular at Starbucks." "Worth it though, if it means other people can buy you a drink sometimes." "That doesn't happen very often, no matter how often you go to Starbucks." "Your lucky day, I guess." "I guess," Chris said, smiling, "this is me." They stopped in front of a small house, something right out of a beach postcard. The pale paint was chipping from the salty air and everything had a worn, weathered look to it. Jake noticed Chris' messy-neat hair; his casual but put together clothes and saw the resemblance. "Nothing too spectacular. Nothing too Hollywood." "Then it's perfect. I came here to get away from all that," Jake said. "I'd offer you something to drink, but we just had coffee," Chris said as he opened the door. The two stepped inside, Jake's hand on Chris' lower back, "watch it, we met each other yesterday." "Force of habit, I guess," Jake said, blushing. "So this is the house, nothing special," Chris said as the two walked into the living room, Jake surveying the house slowly. "Nah, it's just right," Jake said. Chris sat down on the couch as Jake walked around, inspecting the bookshelves and fingering each book's spine. "So you're a writer." "And you're an actor." Jake chuckled. "Would I know anything you've written?" "I'm not mainstream, that's for sure, but I have a bit of a following." Jake lifted up a small trophy. "Man-Booker? Next Prize? Pen-Faulkner finalist? This is serious stuff." "I'm big in Europe and Japan. Those awards paid for this house." "So you're a serious writer. Here I thought you were just some tortured artist living from paycheck to paycheck." Now it was Chris' turn to chuckle. "I'm full of surprises too." "So what have you written?" "Just one book, I'm working on the next one. A few short stories here and there in some lit mags, Zoetrope and Zyzzyva sort of stuff." "You don't have to try and impress me, you did that yesterday." Chris didn't know what to say. He definitely wasn't used to being complimented. "What is the book called? Maybe I've read it." "If you haven't I'll give you a signed copy," Chris said, motioning for Jake to sit down and take a break, "it's called Independence Day. Published last year, paperback out in a month or so. You can tell me about it after you've read it." "It's a deal." "So why did you move here?" "To get away from the craziness. To get a regular at Starbucks," Jake said. Chris found them moving closer together, their legs almost touching, "to meet a nice guy like you." "Two out of three ain't bad." "Not bad at all." "Give 'em a week, maybe they'll remember what you get." "I'm going to kiss you any minute now." "I don't usually let things like that happen," Chris said as Jake moved in closer. He let Jake's hand rest on his shoulder as their lips came together. His eyes shut and he let Jake take over. There was no denying the chemistry; the ease of conversation, and the way Jake's tongue seemed to just fit against his own. Chris' hand trailed up to the back of Jake's neck. Encouraged, Jake pressed their bodies together, feeling Chris give himself to the kiss. It had been too long and he needed it too bad. He let his guard down, letting Jake's short stubble scratch his smooth face as their kiss became more intense. As they broke apart, Chris heard his own strained breath. Jakes eyes were inquisitive, his own were panicked. "Let me get that book for you," Chris said, getting up. "It's not going anywhere, and neither am I," Jake said, pulling him back down to the couch, "lets just keep getting to know each other." Jake took off his hoodie, letting Chris catch a glimpse of his flat stomach, lightly dusted with hair, and his arms, muscular but not overdone. He was falling, hard and fast. "Things are just going really fast," Chris said, he was fighting it, but he didn't know why. "But it feels right, doesn't it? Yeah, it's fast, but I can feel it." Chris hesitated. Jake's face was still contorted in question, but when he saw Chris' body relax, he pulled their bodies together in another kiss. Chris let his hands wander Jake's muscular chest, the stiff muscles of his arms, and his strong shoulders. It had never been like this before. It was just sexual passion or just intellectual connectivity, but here he had both. Jake knew what those prizes were, and he damn well knew how to kiss. Jake's hand went under Chris' thin shirt, feeling the velvet smoothness of his skin while the other traveled down into Chris' pants, fiddling with the waistband of his underwear. "Too fast," he heard Chris mumble. Jake could feel Chris' body stiffening again, but when his hands rested on Chris' lower back, the kiss regained its passion. Chris tried to let go, to give in, but he couldn't. He felt Jake's hands sweeping up and down his back, sending shivers through his body, but there was just something off. "Too fast," Chris said, breaking away, "things are going too fast." Both breathless, Chris saw Jakes eyes dart around, examining his facial expression. Chris had no idea what his own face showed, he was too confused. "What's wrong?" Jake asked, breaking the silence. "I don't know, but I know it's too fast." "I thought things were going pretty well." "Don't get me wrong, I was enjoying it..." "Me too," Jake interrupted, his trademark toothy grin spreading across his face. Chris' hands traced Jake's strong jaw, taking in the icy blueness of his eyes. "God, what's wrong with me?" Chris said, letting himself fall onto Jake's chest. Jake stroked the back of Chris' neck, letting both of them just soak in the moment and regain their bearings. "I just felt something special there, something about you just hits me. I just had to." Chris didn't know how to respond, words were his tool, his medium, and here he was, just speechless. He felt warm and safe here in Jake's arms, "I want so stay like this all day." Jake sighed, his hands coming to rest on Chris' lower back. Chris soaked in everything. Love and writing, writing was about senses and so was love. He felt Jake's heartbeat against his own, his steady breath. He could still taste Jake in his mouth; he swore he'd never forget how that tasted. It was sweet and woodsy, almost primal. He could smell Jake's t-shirt mixed with the ocean air and his own scent. He kept his eyes closed: he always believed that seeing was more about the other senses working together. When he opened them, there was Jake, still there under him, it felt like it had been hours but Chris was sure it had only been a few minutes. "You are the most patient person I've ever met." Jake's hand ran up his back, under his shirt. "Can I kiss you again?" Eyes closed again, Chris let his instincts rule. Scent, smell, touch, sight, and taste all working together. When he felt Jake's stubble scratching against his own mouth, everything felt right. *** "I really liked the middle, the part where they're in Texas and it's the Founder's Day carnival. It was just the worst for Chris. He was so deep in it that he had no choice. He had to follow Sophia." Jake said. "I still can't believe you read it in a day," Chris said, "it took me a long time to write." A few days apart let both of them think about exactly what was going on, and when Chris saw Jake a day later, standing at the coffee shop with large coffees in each hand, he knew he had to give it a try. During those days, Chris managed to pump out page after page, each one better than the one before. Inspiration surged through him; he had to give this a chance. "Sorry, I really couldn't put it down. I know people say that, but I just read it cover to cover." "I feel like I should be telling you I watched Donnie Darko over and over again, but I didn't." Jake put his arm around Chris, he still hadn't unpacked yet and was content to just walk over to Chris'. "I know you don't just sit around all day, and I don't want to throw off your routine." "I've written some stuff that'll let me have a few days off. You should be reading scripts and out breaking hearts, I'm sure. Don't let me get in the way of that." "Smartass. Good thing you're a good kisser." "I just want you to know that I don't do that with every boy that buys me coffee." "And I don't pursue guys. But here we are." "Here we are," Chris said, inching closer to Jake on the couch, "you're not reading, I'm not writing." "And neither of us is drinking coffee." Chris crawled on top of Jake, a smile spreading across his face as he unzipped his hoodie. Jake's hands ran under his t-shirt and across his flat stomach. Chris shivered and pulled off his shirt, hoping that this time, his inhibitions wouldn't stop him. Jake undid Chris' belt, letting his loose jeans fall, slung low on his hips. Chris saw Jake lick his lips before he pulled off his own t-shirt, his fuzzy stomach and pecs coming into view. Their lips crashed together as their hands ran over each new inch, exploring the warmth and heat of exposed skin. Jake's hands ventured into Chris' jeans just as he felt a slow vibration. "Fuck," Chris said, reaching for his phone. "Ignore it, fucking ignore it," Jake panted, yanking it out of Chris' pocket. "No, I can't. I've been waiting for my publicist to call. Wait, no. Just..., I don't know." Chris didn't know if Jake was mad or just annoyed. He got off of Jake, taking the phone into his bedroom. Jake let out a long sigh. What was he doing? Chris was definitely not leading him on, but the constant interruptions, he didn't know if he could handle this. Tortured artists seemed to be too much trouble, but the deep brown eyes and that lean build along with the that spark he felt compelled him to stay put. These past few days had been some of the best since his move. "Sorry about that," Chris said, sitting back down on the couch. He put his hoodie back on, but didn't zip it up. Jake sat up, pulling Chris to him. "It was my rep, she's setting up a tour for the paperback release." "Tour? How long is it going to be?" "A few weeks at least, but it's not for a week or something; she's still setting up the dates." "That's exciting, but..." "But nothing, I don't know what's going on. I want to do...you know, but I don't know what's wrong." Jake let his fingers run through Chris' hair, "just let it happen." 'Just let it happen.' Chris let the words sink in. "Coffee?" Chris asked, zipping up his hoodie. One thing was for sure: it wasn't going to happen just yet. *** "New York for sure, Chicago, Seattle," Chris said, coffee in one hand, the other entwined with Jake's, "San Francisco, LA, then back to the idyllic paradise we have here. Nothing's set in stone yet. I have to call and make sure." "Sounds busy. Have you done this before?" "No, nothing like this. I don't know what to expect. I don't know if I'm going to London or Tokyo. I forgot to ask. I don't want to read to an empty room." "Nah, there'll be large crowds of hipsters saying that they love your book and that it's changed their lives." "Shut up." Deep inside though, Chris was hoping Jake was right. Critical praise was great, but if nobody but critics read his writing, what was the point? "If I forget to tell you, it's been good, you and me. I like it. I like it a lot." "Well, the feeling's mutual," Jake said, kissing Chris' forehead softly. Chris' hand crept up Jake's shirt, he loved the short, soft hairs that dusted Jake's stomach and chest. It wasn't quite "I love you," but "I like the situation that we have" would have to do. Jake pulled Chris up, their eyes meeting before their lips did. Jake felt something new this time, a deeper connection now that the uncertainty was laid out. If things were uncertain before, now things had one thing for sure: nothing was certain. Jake had only seen the living room, patio, and kitchen of Chris' house, but he led the way down the hallway as their t-shirts were shed and belts were pulled from their waists. "Two doors down," Chris said, panting. Jake kicked off his shoes in the threshold, pulling Chris into the bedroom. Chris pulled down Jake's zipper and his jeans fell into a loose pile on the floor. Laying down on Chris' bed, Jake pulled their bodies together, feeling the warmth of Chris' body against his own, their erections pressed together through their boxer-briefs as Jake's hands found their way to Chris' ass. "I've wanted this for a long time," Chris said softly, their two foreheads coming together. Jake's lips pressed against his own, hungry with need. Chris' hands ran down Jake's back, feeling the muscles tensing as their bodies moved together. Chris pulled Jake down on top of him as they fell onto the bed, "I've needed this so bad." Jake's mouth moved down Chris' neck as he pulled down his own underwear. Chris felt Jake's erection press against his thigh as his lips moved down his body. Suddenly he became hyperaware of everything—the cool air against his skin, the heat of Jake's mouth and cock, the way Jake's stubbly chin felt against his own smooth skin. When Jake's hand wrapped around his dick through the thin fabric of the underwear, his entire body tensed. "Whoa, whoa," Jake whispered, his mouth just millimeters from Chris' ear. Chris grabbed the back of Jake's head and they kissed again, this time Chris' tongue darting between Jake's lips. His hips rose to meet Jake's fist as it slowly stroked his length. Jake felt a spurt of pre-cum spill over his hand as he stroked faster. Chris grabbed his hand suddenly and rolled their bodies so that Jake was pinned under him. "You drive me crazy," Chris said, his voice low and his eyes sparkling. Chris placed a kiss near Jake's ear before giving his nipple a slow lick. He heard Jake gasp and ran his hand through the soft hair on Jake's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall. After a few more swipes of his tongue, he felt Jake's hands on his shoulders softly pushing him lower. He grabbed the base of Jake's cock and could feel Jake's body jump, his toes curling. Chris licked up the shaft, feeling Jake's entire body squirm, barely able to maintain control. With long, slow strokes, Chris tasted the salty-sweet pre-cum leaking from Jake's hard tool. He looked up to see Jake's head tossing from side to side, suddenly stopping when Chris' mouth covered his cock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jake groaned, "God Chris, just...yeah." He was practically incoherent. Chris started to take as much of the cock into his mouth as he could, one hand running up Jake's hairy leg and the other playing with Jake's balls. Chris felt Jake's fingers tangle in his messy hair, trying to gain some control. He guided Chris slowly up his shaft and then slowly down, his pants growing louder and louder. Taking it as a good sign, Chris started to pull away, licking up and down the shaft a few more times before sucking one of Jake's balls into his mouth. Jake's back arched, his breaths tainted with need and the strain of control. His eyes were shut tight; the cords in his neck straining as he tried his best not to just pound his cock into Chris' throat. Chris felt Jake's grip tighten, each finger pressing into his scalp to stop him. Even though his head was restrained, he managed to run his tongue with one slow stroke up the length of Jake's cock. Suddenly he felt a jerk at his hair, Jake's eyes meeting his as Jake's cock shot its load, the cum puddling on his taut stomach. "You're too much," Jake said, his voice barely a whisper. His head fell back onto the bed as his breathing deepened. Both their faces were flushed, Chris' throat dry and his hair completely disheveled. Jake's eyes rolled back into his head when he flelt Chris' tongue dart out to lick cum from his chest and stomach. Chris's hand dropped to his own cock, still hard and dripping with pre-cum. "Get up here," Jake said, pulling at Chris' neck and shoulders. Their lips met for just a second before Jake pulled Chris up to straddle his chest, his knees planted firmly in Jake's armpits. "Jack off for me, Chris." Chris' hand wrapped around his own cock, it was harder and thicker than he could remember. Jake's hands ran up Chris' thighs, his eyes focused on Chris'. His ran his fingers up Chris' cock, feeling the slickness of the pre-cum and letting it coat his digits. Chris' breathing sped up, he gripped the headboard for balance Jake's finger nudged his asshole. Chris' mouth opened in a silent scream as Jake slowly pushed his finger into his tight hole. Knuckle-deep, Chris's hand sped up as Jake's finger pressed into him. Another finger joined the first and Chris had to stop stroking his cock, he didn't realize he was holding his breath until he groaned and forced his ass down on Jake's fingers. Jake pulled Chris' hand away from his cock and stroked it with long, firm strokes. Chris gasped, his back arching and his eyes shutting. A few more strokes and he shot his sticky load into Jake's fist, and collapsed onto the bed. Both of them were sticky and panting, "I don't know what to say," Chris said, his head coming to rest on Jake's chest. Jake brought their lips together, pulling Chris on top of him. Jake's strong arms wrapped around his torso, "Shhh." Satisfied, Chris let his body settle into Jake's, feeling how well they seemed to fit together and more inspired than he'd been in a long time. *** "You're a heartbreaker," Jake said, crossing his arms. "Me? You've got to be kidding me," Chris tossed a belt and socks into his suitcase, "I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself with while I'm gone." "The only thing I know in this town is the Starbuck's and the falafel place." "You know the Chinese place, too." "Shut up. I'll see you in New York for sure, I'll meet up with my sister and we can do something. You've got to have some time off." Chris walked over to Jake and kissed his cheek. "You can't get rid of me that easy." Jake's hand lingered on the back of Chris' head, not wanting the inevitable separation, "It's been a week and we're already like this. Stop it." Jake smiled and ruffled Chris' hair, "It's not like anything before. Everything about you is just...just something else." "That's the last of it," Chris said, shutting his suitcase. "Can you drive me to the airport later?" Jake nodded, "what time are we leaving?" "Not for a while." Jake's smile returned and he grabbed Chris' hand, "Let's head out then." Chris didn't know what compelled Jake to fall so hard and fast, but he wasn't going to complain about it. Part of him wanted to just skip the tour and lay in bed together all day telling each other how perfect they were, but reality meant a cross-country tour and hard work on his follow-up novel. Chris grabbed his sunglasses as Jake led the way out onto the beach. The sand was warm but the breeze was chilly. Chris made a mental note to write that contrast into something before Jake stopped and settled onto the sand, his eyes to the water. Jake sighed, "I'm in too deep."