Date: Sun, 17 Sep 2006 21:04:02 -0700 From: christopher. Subject: Breaking Through part 28 Usual disclaimers apply. This is fiction. Don't read it if you're not allowed to. I don't know the real people I'm using as characters in my own story. Author's Note: feedback is the lifeblood of all writers, so send any comments you have, good or bad, to christopherrluu@gmail.com or at AIM/iChat babyofthe1980s. Part XXVIII Jake nearly got the wind knocked out of him when Chris ran at him, arms wrapping around his body, face nuzzling right into the crook of Jake's neck, "I missed you so much," he said, words muffled into his chest. Jake's hands ran over his back, his body tingling at the familiarity of it, the smell of Chris' light cologne, the way his body felt against him, the sound of his voice. He'd pushed what had happened from his mind, falling into a dreamless, murky sleep that left him even more tired when he woke up the next morning, body half-hanging off of the sofa bed. Jake could remember smelling Chris on the sheets, however faint the smell was, knew that across the continent, Chris was sleeping somewhere, too. It had been a restless night, his head spinning as he tossed and turned, but he pushed that out of his head. Chris was here now. "You did good out there, right?" Jake asked quietly, running his fingers through Chris' hair, watching and feeling relief and happiness just wash over Chris' body, "worked hard?" "I can't believe you're done, I can't believe I'm done. I just want to shut down and not even get out of bed," Chris said, running his cheek over Jake's, craving the familiar feeling of his raspy stubble, the feeling of Jake's strong body against his, he just wanted to absorb everything all over again, remember everything from top to bottom, take it all in one more time to make sure he wasn't imagining things. "I love you so much," Jake whispered, holding Chris tight, "you'll never know how much I love you." Jake wanted to cry, his mind finally settling with the fact that they really were done with everything, that they finally got through being apart and that from here on out, for the foreseeable future at least, they'd be together again. Chris pressed his lips to Jake's, finally letting his emotions ride out. It felt good to just kiss Jake, to know that it wasn't something that they'd have to rush through because Chris had to catch a plane the next day or Jake would have to get up early to be on set, they were both right back into the laid-back and relaxed movements that they'd grown so accustomed to. Chris thought they'd lost it, but all they needed was the assurance of knowing that it was all behind them. From here on out, he was going to make sure he spent every minute he could with Jake. Jake pulled away, pressing his nose into Chris' hair, lips at his ear, "Don't bother unpacking, we're going to head out tomorrow. Just the two of us. Me, you...the beach, the sun, just us." Chris felt warm all over, like everything was right, everything was the way it was supposed to be. "I don't want to do anything but be with you. I don't care where we are." He leaned against Jake, his arms wrapping around Jake's neck, a lazy smile on his face, "I still can't believe it," he whispered, "I feel like I've been dreaming about this forever." Jake smiled, holding Chris even tighter, tighter than he could ever remember, like he could just slip away at any minute, "Why are you crying?" Chris asked, voice quiet. "I don't know," Jake said, smiling through the tears as Chris wiped away the tears, "I don't know why because I've got you now." "You're so sappy sometimes," Chris said, kissing him lightly. Jake gave a soft laugh, pulling Chris into another kiss, more intense, deeper. It was exactly like he remembered, Chris sort of melding into his body, their hands, their lips, even their tongues knew exactly where to go and what to do without them even thinking about it. It filled Jake with a comfort he'd missed for a long time, settling his racing head, if even just for a minute. Everything seemed perfect, like nothing had even happened and it was just another day, another kiss. Jake wanted it to last forever, just lose himself in the embrace because if he had Chris like this, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. *** Chris opened the car door, sliding his sunglasses up into his hair. A little girl ran towards the two of them, her light brown hair flowing behind her as she ran, arms outstretched as her eyes sparkled, headed straight for Jake. She wrapped her arms around his legs as soon as he got out of the car, holding him tight as a tall woman came outside, waving to the both of them with a wide smile on her face. Chris vaguely remembered her, nothing but a quick introduction at Maggie's wedding, but that was a long time ago, he figured she'd forgotten about him a long time ago. He always figured he was too ordinary to be memorable, he was "that guy," the "unidentified friend," but even he knew that it was happening less and less now, especially since he'd been getting more and more notoriety. His famous friends didn't hurt, but he didn't want to be known as the friend, the buddy, the tagalong; if people knew him, he wanted it to be because of his work. And that's why he loved Jake's family, his family: they all seemed to know his work, know it and love it. "Was the ride out alright, boys?" she asked, the little girl running back to her, hiding behind her legs as Jake and Chris walked towards them, luggage in tow. "Abby, you remember Chris, right?" Jake asked, a smile on his face. Chris kneeled, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear as she came out from behind her mother, "I remember how pretty you looked at Maggie's wedding," he said, bringing a smile to her face. "Uncle Jake said that you're going to get married just like Maggie and Uncle Peter," she said, hand on her hip, "so I'll look pretty for that too." "Jake and Peter aren't your uncles, Abigail. But I'm sure you're pretty every day," Chris said, taking her hand as he got back onto his feet, "do you want to show me our room so we can put our stuff down?" "Only daddy calls me Abigail," she said, hand on her hip. Chris hadn't spent much time with children, but he had a feeling that treating them like adults was something that would work to his advantage. "Then you can call me Christopher, because it's what your cousin Maggie and Peter call me," Chris said, his voice suddenly dropping low and quiet, almost a whisper, "I don't even let Jake call me that." She beamed, grabbing Chris' hand, "I can show you my playroom, mommy made me put all my Barbies and things away." "Show Chris the one we were cleaning up this morning, sweetie," the woman said, she turned to Chris, holding out a hand, "Rebecca. Jake's aunt." "I remember." "I remember you too," she said, smiling. Chris felt Abby pulling on his hand and he followed her after giving Aunt Rebecca a quick hug, "She's going to drive him crazy," Rebecca said to Jake, who watched as Chris and Abby walked down the path to the house, Abby practically skipping as Chris walked beside her. "Thanks for letting us stay here, I didn't know you were here for the summer." "It's your parent's house, Jake, I should be thanking you." He pulled his luggage behind him, Rebecca leading the way down the path with slow steps, "Everything's good? I heard you finished another movie." "Taking a break we both deserve, that's why we're out here," Jake said, eyes still fixed on Chris as he opened the front door for Abby. "That didn't answer how you are," Rebecca said, the slightest tinge of concern in her voice, "you seem sort of distracted. Even now, you're not all here, are you?" Jake nodded, concentrating on the sound of his suitcase on the concrete path, the distant sound of the beach, the cool wind on his face, everything but what was going on inside his head, "It's a lot of things," Jake said, "I just wanted to get him away from everything, I had to get away. We've been apart for too long, it's messing with our heads." "And your hearts," she said, patting Jake's shoulder lightly, "nobody should have to go through what you two do. Your sister and your mom, they worry about the two of you." "We can take care of ourselves," Jake said, "now that we can sort of calm down, get our bearings straight." "You came to the right place," she said, "this is the one place reality doesn't touch." "No, it's like this at home, too. It's too perfect to be real. That's why we can't deal with real problems." *** Jake felt a tug on his foot, the full-sized bed way smaller than what he and Chris were used to sharing, their legs hanging off the sides as they curled up together, Chris snuggling into the curves of Jake's body, "Uncle Chris," he heard, Abby's voice quiet. "That's my foot," Jake whispered, mumbling with morning weariness as he pulled it back under the covers. He felt Chris snuggle closer to him, arms holding him tighter, "Chris is asleep, Abby." He heard her run around the bed pulling on his other foot, "Uncle Chris," she repeated, "it's time to get up." "Chris," Jake said, yawning, "it's your wakeup call." "What time is it?" Chris asked, eyes still closed, body still clutching Jake's, craving the warmth. "Uncle Christopher," Abby pleaded, pulling on his arm, "come on." "What number is the little hand pointing to?" Chris asked her, waving his arm in the general direction of the clock hanging on the wall, wrapping his legs around Jake's as he tried to get deeper under the covers. "The seven," she said, irritation evident in her voice, "almost." "How about you come back when the little hand is on the ten?" Chris said as felt Jake hold him tighter, his breathing slowing as he fell back asleep. "Uncle Chris..." she pleaded. "I'm not your uncle, Abigail," Chris said, slowly untangling himself from Jake's long limbs. Abby clapped when she saw the movements, happy to finally get Chris out of bed, to have someone to play with, "I'll make you my favorite," she said as she skipped out of the room, satisfied when Chris threw his legs over the bed, stretching his arms above his head. Jake was sound asleep on the bed as Chris walked over to the bathroom, hearing Abby's movements in the kitchen. Sharing a bed with Jake again, just the idea of it brought him a smile. He could have used a few more hours, but just having the body next to him, warm and long, their bodies coming together in familiar patterns even in their sleep; it wasn't their own bed, but it was good enough. Chris glanced out the window, the early morning light made everything hazy. He could hear the low rumble of the waves somewhere, they still hadn't gotten a chance to see the water. When he got to the kitchen, he saw Abby struggling with a pitcher of milk, barely able to lift it as she teetered on a stepstool. "I'll get that part," Chris said, pouring the milk over her cereal in a graceful arc. "It's for you, not for me. Mommy and I ate already," she said, "mommy said that you'd watch me while she went to get more food for you and Uncle Jake." Chris pushed her hair behind her ear as he ate a spoonful of cereal. It was sickly sweet, so sugary that he could barely swallow. Was this really what kids were eating? "Did she just leave?" He pushed the bowl aside, wishing Abby knew how to make coffee or at the very least, tell him where the coffeemaker was. "Yeah," Abby said, her voice excited, "she got us these before you and Jake came." She ran out of the room, rushing back into the kitchen, out of breath as she spread out two coloring books and a fresh box of crayons on the table, "do you want dinosaurs or Barbie?" "Barbie," Chris said, grinning. Abby's eyes narrowed, "Barbie is for girls," she said, inching the glittering pink book towards herself. "Are you making trouble, Abby?" Jake asked as he walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Chris' chest, nuzzling his nose into the back of Chris' neck. His chest hair tickled Chris' back and he could feel Chris relax and settle into the grooves of his body, Chris' foot running over Jake's lightly. "You don't like dinosaurs? Girls can like dinosaurs." He grabbed the spoon from Chris' hand, shoveling some cereal into his mouth. "Abby made me breakfast," Chris said, watching as Abby beamed proudle, "but you can finish it. I like dinosaurs, Abby, you can have the Barbie one." Jake let Chris go, finishing the rest of the cereal as he sat down, eyes fixed on Chris' sparkling eyes, smile on his face as he colored the thin neck of a brontosaurus. "What do you want to do today?" "We can color, then we can play Barbie, and we can play Candyland," Abby said. Chris let out a chuckle, surrendering his green crayon to her grasping hand. "Maggie is the best colorer. She says that Barbie has the best clothes." "Beach," Chris said simply, "we didn't come out here not to go to the beach." "Mommy says it's too cold to go to the beach," Abby said, "but there are pretty birds. And shells." She put her crayon down and hopped off the chair, running out of the kitchen, an excited look on her face. "She's cute," Chris said, reaching for a brown crayon. Jake grabbed Chris' hand, bringing it to his lips, "I'm coloring, Jake," he joked, smiling as he felt Jake's scratchy stubble against his skin. Jake let out a soft laugh, kissing Chris' wrist lightly, trailing down to his rings, smiling as he saw them glinting in the light, "You're right handed. Keep coloring." Jake felt a tinge of guilt, slowly spreading in him as he felt Chris lean back against him. He held down what he was sure was bile, the guilt mixing with sugary cereal. He pushed himself away from Chris, swallowing hard as he ran his fingers over his face, a chill shooting through his body. Coughing, he scrambled around the kitchen for a glass, frustrated he didn't know where anything was. He got to the sink and cupped his hands together, taking huge gulps of water, shaking himself as Chris turned around, face covered with concern. "That cereal's gross, I can't believe you ate it all," he said, getting up out of the chair. Jake waved his hand, shaking his head and Chris sat back down, the worried look still on his face. Jake had another coughing fit, fist pounding on his own chest as he took another big gulp of water. "Just went down the wrong way," Jake said, catching his breath. Abby ran back into the kitchen, breathless as she bounded back onto the kitchen stool, "I found these at the beach with mommy," she said, carefully placing three shells onto the table, coloring book long forgotten, "they're so pretty." Her eyes were wide as she ran her fingers along the iridescent shells. Chris picked one up, feeling the rough exterior with one finger as the other slid across the smooth side, watching the play of light on the pearly ripples inside, "Jake, it's like the ones back at home," he said as he handed it to him. "They came all the way from your house?" Abby asked in amazement, "I didn't even know they could swim." Smiling, Chris watched Jake hand the shell back to Abby, his hand running across Chris' shoulders, pulling their bodies together again. "We'll go find some more today, maybe we'll find one that looks like a snail," Jake said. "Snails are yucky," Abby said, ears perking as she heard a car pull up the drive, "mommy's back!" Chris gathered the shells on the table, setting everything aside as Jake pulled him close, nose nuzzling in his hair, "It's real, right? Tell me it's real." "You don't want to wake up, Jake," Chris whispered, "if this is a dream, keep it going." *** "It's freezing," Chris said mouth and eyes both wide, jumping from the water, his feet chilly on the cold sand as he walked quickly back to where Jake was standing, shaking the sand off his foot as he slipped his flip-flop back on, "this isn't like the beach back at home. There aren't any waves and it's so cold. I didn't know the beach could get this cold." "There's nowhere like home," Jake said, pulling Chris up against his body. "But it's so nice out here," Chris said, smiling as he ran his cheek over Jake's shoulder, the softness of his sweater blending with the warmth from his body, "just the two of us out here." Jake's eyes scanned the beach in both directions. Chris was right, apart from the birds, it was just the two of them. "Just close your eyes and listen," Jake whispered, hand running down to the small of Chris' back, "it sounds like home." He felt Chris chuckle before letting out a long sigh, "It does a little," he said, "and it smells a little like home." Jake took a deep breath, smelling the light scent of Chris' hair more than anything else, but the salty air mixed with the freshness of being away from a big city, he knew that was what Chris meant. Chris lived in a different place, Jake sometimes thought, a place where everything was about observing and absorbing. He used his senses differently, could put what he felt in a way nobody else could. He loved hearing Chris talk, watching him just take everything in and sort it in his head. It was like watching magic happen because most of the time, Jake saw it come out again in something, be it a short story or a part of Chris' longer pieces, everything he noticed seemed to pop up somewhere. "What are you thinking right now?" Jake asked, lips on Chris' ear, the sensation and the words sending a shiver through Chris' body; his hand running over the smooth expanse of Jake's shoulder blade. "I don't know, sometimes when we're like this, I just can't think about anything but you," Chris said, just feeling the warmth of Jake's body against his, "and how you feel. And how you make me feel." Jake pushed Chris away gently, their foreheads pressing together as Jake ran his hands down Chris' arms, "You're amazing." "What are you talking about?" "I just want you to know, no matter what happens from here on out, you have to remember what we've gone through," Jake said, his eyes intense. "Stop," Chris said, finger on Jake's lips, suddenly shaken by the turn in the conversation, "I know." He nodded, smiling as Jake's features softened, his fingers running over Jake's stubbly jawline, "This movie really hit you hard." "Being away from you hit me hard," Jake whispered, "I couldn't get it out of my head. Every minute of every day I just wanted to be with you." "Stop," Chris said again, "we're together now. Forget about all that, I already did." Jake smiled, running his hand through Chris' hair, pulling him in tight again, "I can't. I don't want to put you through that again." "Stop," Chris said, more serious this time, "I don't want to think about it anymore. We're together now." He pushed his lips to Jake's, feeling his body relax as Jake's tongue slid into his mouth. It was the only surefire way to calm Jake down fast, the one thing that distracted Jake from anything and everything. Chris closed his eyes, letting Jake's tongue slide against his, his hands running up Chris' back, Chris clutching his shoulders to steady the both of them. "No more of that," Chris said, lips brushing Jake's as he talked, "I wish there was a no photographers rule in Santa Barbara like there is here--so we could do this all we wanted." He kissed Jake again, loving the feeling of it, cool ocean breeze at his back as his chest pressed against Jake. The world melted away, the two of them completely oblivious to everything around them. *** "You're back!" Abby yelled, rushing towards Chris as he opened the front door, arms wrapping around his legs. He leaned down and gave her a hug, picking her up as she giggled, "Where did you and Jake go?" "We got you this snail," Jake said, handing her a shiny white shell, "so you can think about giving things a second chance." "This is pretty," Abby said, enamored by the little shell, "I didn't think snails could be pretty." "You can't just think things without knowing," Chris said, setting her down on the kitchen counter, "tell Jake what you told me this morning." Abby blushed and Jake raised an eyebrow, rushing at her and tickling her sides as they both laughed even harder, "Alright," she said, catching her breath, "mommy said that tonight, we'd have dinner on the beach." "That's it?" Jake asked. "What else did you tell me this morning, Abigail?" She blushed a deep red, "Jake, you don't color good. And, Auntie Maggie called and said she might come up too! She said we could teach you how to color." Chris lit up, nodding when Jake glanced at him. It was like a huge family vacation, something Chris never got to experience, but just seeing how excited Abby was made him excited too. Jake smiled too, happy to have everyone together away from the stresses of work and the city, it was just so different out here. There was nothing to worry about, they could sleep in and just go to the beach every day, practically a dream come true. "So we'll all get to be together, the whole gang," Chris said, "it's perfect." "And Uncle Peter smells good," Abby added, "I remember." There was nothing this girl couldn't talk about, Chris thought. Her mind raced a mile a minute, jumping from one thing to the next, from this to that without a second thought. It caught his attention every time she opened her mouth. It was so raw and spastic, something completely unrestrained; he loved it, wished he could capture it somehow, but he'd never felt more at ease not writing. Taking a break from everything, including what he loved to do, it just seemed right at the moment. He had to see what everyone thought of his new book before diving into whatever he was going to do next. The one review he read was good, the one thing they didn't like had nothing to do with him at all. It seemed like Jake's introduction was seen as more of a quirky addition than anything else. Chris remembered that line word for word, even through the nicotine haze, "Ignore the superfluous introduction by Hollywood heavyweight but callow literary neophyte Jake Gyllenhaal and readers will find that Lewis delivers the cleanest, most creative, and most fun work to date." He didn't have the heart to tell Jake. 'Superflous?' 'callow?' that was harsh. Unnecessarily so, Chris thought. Their job was to review his work, not Jake's. He suddenly felt a little protective. Jake didn't need to know. "Christopher!" Abby yelled, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt, "Jake bsaid that you were daydreaming again." Chris shook himself, smiling at Abby. How long had he been spacing out? "It's in your eyes," Jake said, pouring two mugs of coffee, "if I can't tell, who can?" It was true, Jake knew him better than anyone else, "I can't help it." "Newspaper's right there," Rebecca said, pulling her hair into a ponytail, "you boys can watch Abby right? She's not going to leave you side if she can help it." Abby blushed, "I never get to see Jake," she whined, "or Chris...I mean Christopher." "It's okay," Chris said, "I don't mind." He sipped his coffee, settling his body against Jake's as they watched Abby color some more. She was determined to get every page done in both books, every waking moment that Chris and Jake spent idle, she spent coloring. "Are you excited to see Maggie and Peter?" "Yeah," she said, eyes glistening, "Maggie has the prettiest shoes and Uncle Peter gives me piggyback rides." Chris smiled again. Peter really fell into the big brother role naturally, loving-- practically reveling--in every moment he could give advice or a shoulder to lean on. Chris was glad he wasn't the only one taking advantage of Peter's generosity. "And you're right, he does smell good." "Chris smells good too, Abby," Jake said, nose in Chris' hair, arms wrapping around his waist, "and I think he's prettier than Peter." It was Chris' turn to blush, turning around to give Jake a quick kiss, "Thanks for taking me out here," he said quietly, "for everything." "Anything for you," Jake whispered into his ear, lips gently grazing the soft skin there, "I love you. Know that." He'd been saying it a lot lately, almost too much, he thought, but he had to get the point across. He couldn't lose Chris, not after everything. It meant too much to him and he needed Chris as much as Chris thought he needed Jake. They meant to much to him, he needed it. Over and over, he tried to figure out the best way to tell Chris, thought that he deserved that much, but the more and more he tried, the more he thought that Chris didn't deserve the heartache. A long time ago, Jake promised never to hurt him and this would kill him. *** Chris watched as Jake pulled off his white t-shirt, stretching his arms above his head before sliding onto the bed, "What are you reading," he asked, pulling Chris close. Jake's hugs were tight, more possessive than before, Chris noticed, like he was trying to keep Chris from escaping or something. Chris figured he was just happy that they were together again, his excitement being channeled into these embraces. "Book about druggies," Chris said, yawning, "let's get some heroine. It sounds amazing." "Shut up," Jake said, grinning, "I get pissed off when you smoke. Pull that shit and I'll kill you." "I don't smoke that often," Chris said, "you make it sound like I'm addicted." "You make it sound like you don't have a pack in that suitcase." "Stop," Chris said, kissing Jake softly as he set his book down on the night table, straddling Jake's hips as their lips came together. Jake's hands settled on his neck, feeling Chris' pulse quicken, "I'm not addicted. Not to smoking, at least," Chris whispered, hands running down over Jake's hairy chest down to his stomach, following the trail of hair to his bellybutton. "Why'd you stop there?" Jake whispered, his lips still on Chris'. "Because you accused me of being addicted to cigarettes," Chris said, smiling, "and it's really your fault." Jake knew it was a joke, but part of him knew it was true, too. "You used to smoke, you know how easy it is to fall into it again." "We don't have to talk about it right now," Jake said, his body shivering as Chris' hand halted, "not when your hand's right there." "It'll stay there," Chris said, fingers lightly tickling Jake's skin, "unless you do something about it." His nose settled into Jake's neck, the smell of firewood from the lobster boil still lingering on his skin with the sweet salty smell of the ocean that always reminded him of home. "What do you want me to do?" Jake asked, shifting their bodies, kissing Chris' neck, his hands sliding down to Chris' shoulders, even lower to his waist, fingers finding their way under Chris' t-shirt, "say it. Tell me." Chris shivered as Jake's fingers touched his skin, ripples of sensation flowing from his fingertips, "Anything," Chris said, his voice already breathy, "anything you want...I want." He grabbed Jake's right wrist, kissing his tender skin when he brought it to his lips, Jake watching with rapt eyes, the blue focused on Chris' pink lips, his half-lidded eyes. Jake groaned when Chris pushed his index finger between his lips, tongue sliding along the skin, swirling around the tip slowly as he pulled it out, "So what do you want to do?" "Damn, fuck...I can't think right now," Jake whispered, watching his finger slide out of Chris' mouth, glistening and slick with sweat. Chris leaned down and kissed him again, deep and slow, like there was nothing in the entire world apart from their lips and their bodies. Jake pulled Chris' t-shirt off, Chris grunting as their lips came apart for that split second. Chris pulled off his underwear, tossing the boxer briefs to the floor as Jake pushed him down onto his back, lips on his neck, scratchy beard rasping against his skin as Jake pulled off his own boxers. Chris groaned as Jake settled on top of him, their bodies practically crashing into each other, familiar hands explored charted territory, but neither cared how many times they'd been there before. Every sensation still sparked with excitement and enthusiasm. "Love you," Chris said, gasping as Jake's lips slid down his neck, following that slick finger down his chest with a trail of kisses and nips. Chris' fingers clutched at Jake's shoulders, his body tensing as Jake completely ignored his hard cock, pausing for a second to kiss his balls, to give one long lick up his shaft to ease Chris' writhing body. Jake's hands ran up Chris' chest again, eyes drinking in the sight of Chris' breathless body, flushed as his eyes fluttered open to meet Jake's again, dark brown and blue meeting through the heat of the room. Chris ran his fingers through his own hair, tongue sliding out to lick his lips as he watched Jake breathe, chest heaving, both anticipating what would happen next. Chris groaned when Jake grabbed his waist and turned him over, pulling him up onto his hands and knees, his chest settling on Chris' back as his lips attached to Chris' neck, his finger sliding up Chris' crack, sliding slowly into Chris' hole. Gasping, Chris let his head drop to the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets. He felt Jake shift behind him, his back suddenly chilly as Jake's chest left it, his finger still crooked up against his prostate, shocks coursing through his entire body. Jake pulled his finger out and Chris let out a long groan when he felt Jake's tongue at his hole, the scratch of stubble against his skin there completely unexpected, his body almost jumping off the bed. He was panting, his mind spinning as the tip of Jake's tongue slid around the tightness of his ring, his entire body tingling. Jake held Chris steady, tongue tracing the quivering muscle as Chris writhed under him, anticipating, craving more. Jake licked at his hole, sliding it inside one more time, pulling a long groan from Chris' throat. It sounded vaguely anxious to Jake, definitely sending a shiver down his spine as a finger slid in again, slicking the tight muscle and sending a string of groans from Chris' mouth. Jake steadied his bucking hips, a hand on his lower back as he slid his finger all the way in, his tongue still teasing Chris' hole, knowing that every second was driving Chris crazy, a quick glance at his cock confirmed it, Jake's own cock aching for some attention. "Jake," Chris groaned, the sound melting into the air as Jake slid his tongue past the muscle, Chris' body going rigid, a slow shiver spreading all over, his head thrown back as Jake held him steady. Jake spread his cheeks apart, sliding his tongue in as far as he could, every sense bombarded by the closeness, the connection that sent chills through his own body just knowing that he was with Chris in a way only they could be. He spread Chris' legs wider, his knee pushing them apart. "Fuck, Jake, get in me now or I'll fucking explode," Chris grunted, words stilted and strained. Jake felt Chris moving under him, turning himself over and throwing a leg over his shoulder, "I need you so bad." His eyes were dark, body flushed as he pulled Jake towards him. Breathing hard, Jake tried to take it all in, the way Chris' body looked right then, aching with need, desperate for release, his eyes glazed and his cock hard and dripping. Just seeing it made him groan, his lips went to Chris' Adam's apple as he slicked his cock, sliding the head in slowly as he watched Chris throw his head back, his entire body tensing under Jake, his knuckles white as he fisted the sheets. Jake kissed him, tongue sliding between his lips as he stayed there, not moving forward or backward, Chris' hands flying to his neck to steady himself, pushing himself so that another inch slid in, a satisfied groan filling Jake's ears as his head hit Chris' prostate. "Right there," Chris moaned, a fresh sheen of sweat breaking across his body, "oh God, yeah. Right there." Jake smiled weakly, his arms flexing as he steadied himself, Chris' fingers sliding down to the muscle, gripping his biceps as he rocked slightly, pressing the head of his cock into Chris' prostate, feeling the tight warmth of Chris' channel down the length of his shaft, feeling Chris' body shudder under his. "Fuck, Jake," Chris said, his voice tight and quiet, "just do it." Jake pushed the rest of his cock in, a groan coming from his own throat as he felt the heat, the tightness of Chris' clutching hole on every inch of his cock as he bottomed out, his breaths hot and heavy against Chris' skin. Chris was breathing just as hard, his eyes clenched shut as Jake started thrusting, his teeth lightly sinking into the skin of Chris' shoulder as he reigned in the drive to go at it hard and quick. Slow and controlled, Jake slid in and out, watching every muscle in Chris' neck tense and relax, every quick gasp and every long groan. Arching back onto his shoulders, Chris felt the waves wash over him, every thrust sending a shudder through his entire body, Jake's cock hitting him just how he liked it, the controlled chaos sending him as close to complete bliss as he could get. "Chris, I...I have to go," Jake whispered, "I can't keep this up...can't keep it like this." "Go, go go...go for it," Chris said, practically yelled it seemed. Either way, it echoed in his ears, it rippled through his entire body as Jake slammed in hard, sawing in and out fast and severe, going deep and pulling out so far that Chris thought he would slip out entirely. He clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep it in. Jake yanked his hand away, covering Chris' lips with his own instead, his tongue mimicking the movement of his cock. Chris whimpered, his body slack and languid, letting Jake's body move it any way it had to, their bodies completely connected, every inch of skin that could touch did, every breath seemed labored, and every thrust sent them closer and closer to the edge. Jake pushed Chris' legs tight against his chest, practically bending him in half as he thrust into Chris' tight hole, his ass lifted up off the bed, Jake's balls slapping slick sweaty skin with every push forward. Roughly thrusting, Jake pulled at Chris' shoulders, wanting, needing to get every inch of himself into the clutching muscles. This was what it was supposed to feel like, an uncontrollable, unfettered drive to feel the connection, this is what he was looking for, this is what he needed. He pulled Chris up, lips on Chris' collarbone as he held Chris tight, their slick chests sliding together as Chris bounced up and down onto Jake's cock his legs flexing with every motion. Jake's cock seemed thicker, longer, just seemed to fill him differently, there was something about it that seemed different. Jake's lips were desperate on his chest, Chris breathless as he edged closer and closer, his balls tingling, his cock slippery with pre-cum as Jake seemed to just thrust it out of him. Chris' hands framed Jake's face as he pulled their lips together, his throat dry and his entire body flush and hot at the same time. He froze, entire body rigid as he shot, thick ropes of cum flying up between their heaving bodies, choked whimper and grunts filling Jake's ears and his own. Jake held him tight, his own body tingling as he felt the constrictions on his cock, their bodies connection on so many levels that Jake didn't know where he ended and Chris started. Seeing with his own two eyes, feeling it against his body, he knew that Chris gave him everything he needed. Their lips crashed together again, Chris' clutching ass sending Jake over the edge, cum spewing deep inside Chris, Jake gasping as he tried to get enough air, tried to hold their bodies together as they tried to tame their senses. Chris' fingers ran through Jake's thick hair, a weak smile on his face as he kissed Jake's forehead, shaking his head when Jake started to pull out, "Hold on just a little," Chris whispered, pressing his forehead against Jake's, "it's just been too long, I just..." Jake shushed him, nodding, lowering him onto the bed, cock slowly sliding out; one last groan escaping Chris' body. Jake let out a long breath, feeling Chris settle into his body, content to let sleep take over the way it always did, happy that Jake was the very last thing on his mind as he slipped into slumber. Jake held him tight, hand stroking his back lightly, his mind settling on one front, but the back of his head suddenly waking up, realizing that he'd fucked up and still hadn't dealt with it yet, couldn't deal with it because now he knew what he had to lose. The connection was deep, so deep that Jake couldn't imagine losing it, couldn't imagine what he'd be if he didn't have it. "Love you," Jake whispered, "so much. So so much." Chris mumbled a response, hand sliding up to clutch Jake's shoulder. He promised Chris a long time ago that he'd never hurt him. The memory came back again and again. He already broke that promise once, he couldn't bear to know he'd done it again, knew that neither of them would be able to handle the fallout. He'd let Chris live in blissful ignorance, he decided. Right then and right there, protecting Chris from what could hurt him, Jake's own stupid mistakes included, overshadowed everything else. Chris' breathing was low and regular, chest rising and falling steadily. Jake let out one last long sigh, sometimes, he figured, what people didn't know could be more important than what they did. *** "Why are you crying?" Abby asked, sitting down next to Chris on the cool sand, a strong salty breeze blowing her hair away from her face. "I'm not," Chris lied, wiping away the stray tears, shaking himself. He couldn't bear to let people see him like this, not even Abby. He steadied himself, put on the strong front he knew Abby wanted to see before he pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears as he ran a finger over her jaw, strong and square just like her cousin's. "Why are you all by yourself? Mommy's cooking." "Jake went back to work...I miss him." Abby sat silently, fingers tracing circles in the sand as the surf crashed in front of them, white foam splashing into the air just a few feet from their faces, "I miss him, too." He pulled her close, smiling at her attempt to relate, "I know you do. But I've been missing him for a long time. We're used to seeing each other all day, like you and your mom. And then sometimes we go for a long time without seeing each other and it makes us both really sad." "Why do you feel so sad when you don't see him? Sometimes I forget that I even have a cousin Jake." Chris held in another barrage of tears, wishing hard that he could get back to that mindset, to be as carefree as Abby always was, "I can't forget, ever. Most of the time, he's all I think about." "Why?" Abby asked, huddling closer to Chris for warmth. She wrapped her arms around Chris', resting her cheek on his bicep, eyes still locked on the water. "Because I love him. More than anything, Abby. He's everything I need, it's like...I don't know how to get you to understand, it's like how you need your mom, but it's different, I love him so much that it hurts my heart when he's not around." It sounded weird to hear it, to have to explain something he experienced firsthand every single day. But hearing it just made him see how it deeply they seemed to affect each other. Abby stepped back at the sudden outpour, not sure what to do. She'd never seen someone like that, not in the cartoons she watched or real life. She had nothing to compare this to. "Christopher, you're scaring me. Don't be sad anymore. Stop it." Chris blinked back tears, looking at Abby through swollen eyes and holding in sobs-- the childish innocence bringing a half-hearted smile to his face. It wasn't that easy, could never be that easy. It was so sudden, Jake getting one phone call and packing an overnight bag to New York all over again. A kiss goodbye and an "I love you" was all Chris got before Jake gave him one last pleading look and a weak smile. It was like it hadn't happened a million times already, but every time it was the same ordeal, one of them left and somehow, both of them felt numb. "I'm okay," Chris said, holding Abby's shivering body tight against his own, "or I will be. Let's get you inside. You're freezing out here." He picked her up, holding her as she laid her head on his shoulder, clutching his neck tight as the sand kicked up behind his long strides. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he felt a slow warmth spread across his body. Playing big brother wasn't just for Peter, Chris felt like he could get used to it with just a little more practice. Back inside the house, he set her down on the kitchen counter, Rebecca already busy in the kitchen, "I thought you were a big hit on the West Coast, Chris." "I am," Chris said slowly, confused, "at least I thought I was..." "Well, the chart is up," she said. 'The chart' was what book people: publishers, publicists, writers, and the like, called the two important bestsellers lists--the New York and the Los Angeles lists. Rebecca worked magazines, so she knew what it meant to a writer to be on the charts. It meant sales, it meant buzz, but more than anything, it meant people were buying and reading. Chris always feigned the expectation of disappointment. He'd only felt it a few times when it came to his work, especially lately, but he always pretended that he expected to not be on it, even though everything he'd written had ended up on the charts, even his last book that nobody liked. He just did it because it's what writers were supposed to do. He knew he'd make it on the chart, but he didn't know what position it'd be. Writing was the one part of himself that he had confidence in, he knew he was good at it, so he didn't worry much after all was said and done. He grabbed the newspaper and flipped past the book reviews, right to the table in the back of every issue. His eyes lit up when he saw that he was number two. It was as good as number one; there was no way writers made number one unless Oprah put them on her list or their book was tied to a movie somehow, it just didn't happen to mere mortals. That was New York, where he'd always been well received, so he let a grin slip onto his face, Jake slipping from his mind for a split second before he was filled with the urge to tell him the good news. "Okay, now look at the other paper," Rebecca said, hands set settling on the counter across from Chris. Her face looked serious. Chris pushed the New York Times aside and opened the LA Times, practiced movements getting him through the paper quick, right to the chart in that issue. His forehead wrinkled with confusion as he scanned the page. There had to be a mistake, because the charts were almost always identical, usually just the same titles in a slightly different order. There was definitely something wrong. He couldn't find his name anywhere. "What's going on? Is this for real?" "You tell me," Rebecca said, "you've got to call your rep. Something's going on, things like that don't happen." "I don't know," Chris said, "I don't get it...I should be higher on the West Coast than I am over here. They like me back at home." Interviewers told him over and over that people that didn't even read books felt like they should go out and get a copy of his work, like they were missing out on something if they weren't reading something by him because he was always being talked about. Chris never believed it, but staring at the page, his name nowhere to be found, maybe they gave up on him after his last book bombed. Maybe he was old news. Maybe, and this was his worst fear, he was the only person that thought what he wrote was good anymore. "You have to get a hold of your agent, your publisher, anyone." "I have to call Jake," Chris said, even though he knew Jake couldn't do anything about it. "He won't know what's going on," Rebecca said, pulling the newspaper out from under Chris' fingers, pushing Chris back to reality. "This is serious. Either they had a problem getting your book out there or they could have messed up production, there's no reason for this to have happened." Chris was still dazed, ignoring Abby's short tugs at his sleeve, "I..." "Call someone, I'm serious," Rebecca said, "go." *** Jake gulped the last of his coffee, deciding right then and there to never do a movie with David Fincher again, even if it had the most amazing script. It wasn't worth putting himself, and Chris for that matter, through constant heartache. It was completely uncalled for, the scene seemed fine, but the way Fincher was yelling through the phone, the anger and passion in his voice, Jake knew it was a losing battle. He felt anxious, knowing that the worst thing that he could do is draw it out, so he did his best to deal with the situation and get the lines out the way Fincher wanted. "Back on set," a PA yelled. Jake shook his head, not feeling the caffeine at all. He zipped up his spaceman jacket and got back on the mark, pushing everything into the back of his head. A straight ten hours later, one soggy sandwich and five changes in their starting marks, Jake couldn't be happier to be dumping his jacket into the laundry bin and head off, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone, his hand reaching for his phone right away. It was too late to call Chris, he realized, sliding it back into his pocket, the chilly New York air enveloping his body. It was jarring to have the exact same soundstage setup in a different city, but he was grateful for it. He didn't want to fly all the way back to Toronto for one day of re-shoots. He instantly thought of Chris again, the one person that put up with flying up to Toronto, rain or shine, whether he was busy or not, he was there every weekend just like he promised. It stopped Jake right in his tracks. "Work sucks, doesn't it?" Jake heard. It sent a chill down his spine, the calm, eerie voice familiar and foreign all at once. He ignored it, walking forward again, eyes scanning the streets for a cab. If he could get to Maggie's townhouse quick enough, he could grab his bags and catch a train out to the coast again, maybe even take a cab all the way out there if they were allowed to do that sort of thing. The talking stopped, but Jake heard the sound of even footsteps behind him. "If you're expecting something," Jake said, "don't." "I don't expect anything," Hayden said, eyes focusing on Jake's intense expression, his lips tight, "but I didn't last time either." Jake turned around quickly on his heel, fist clenched as his eyes narrowed, fiery as he took in Hayden's air of calm coolness. It only infuriated him further, "You have no idea what happened. I have someone that I care about and I fucked it up. I'm not like you. I couldn't ever treat it the way you do. It means something and you just don't understand." Hayden didn't seem fazed, "So what's the problem? If the shit's hit the fan, what's the point in trying to fix it if you can't?" "Because I can fix it." "How?" Hayden shot back. Jake stood there, his head reeling. He pushed everything aside, getting out of character, getting back into his own head, trying to get back to where he was when Chris was with him, where he was himself, where his head wasn't muddled and cloudy because of acting and other people. "I don't know." "I didn't think so," Hayden said, grabbing Jake's forearm. Jake jerked his arm away, his forehead wrinkling as his eyes bored into Hayden's. "What part of this don't you get? I've been with someone for a long time. We never had anything like that." "I'm not asking for emotion, for love, for anything but sex, Jake. You're hot and we're hot together, you can't deny that." "Fuck, Hayden, we didn't have anything. Not like what I've got going." "Then why aren't you in his arms now? It seems to me like there's always one thing you put above the person you love, don't you? You can't say no to the craft," his voice was low, haunting in Jake's ears. Chris was what came first, wasn't he? He'd never ask Jake to stop working, knowing that it was how Jake expressed himself, but as Jake sloshed through memories, head swampy with confusion, he vaguely recalled asking Chris to stop for a while, remembered the fallout. "You know how it is, Hayden, don't play it like you don't. It's a part of it. We all deal." "We all deal differently," Hayden said, stepping closer to Jake, seeing every tiny shake of Jake's hand, seeing him flinch as their bodies got closer, "wouldn't something...getting off, maybe...wouldn't that calm you down? You seem so strung out." Jake stepped back, "Stop it. Get out of my fucking head. I'm not going to do this to him." "You already did, Jake." *** Chris walked out to the water, sitting down so that the edge of the surf just barely lapped at his toes, both hands clutching at the mug of steaming milky coffee to stay warm. The sky was gray, looked just like it was made out of lead. He grinned, knowing that it was one of the comparisons that confused Jake the most. 'How could something light and airy like the sky be like lead?' he'd say. Chris would always shrug it off. He was the writer, he could say whatever he wanted. The sky could look like rocks if he wanted it to; they were his stories. Jake only read them, told Chris what he didn't get, but even then, Chris knew Jake was a little more perceptive, way more understanding of his writing than the average reader. If Jake didn't get it, nobody else would either. Once or twice, things got so weird that he changed things even when he didn't want to. Jake was a good barometer for his experimenting and Chris was grateful for that. He sipped his coffee, feeling the warmth spread through his body. If nobody could buy his book, nobody could understand or misunderstand it. He was getting so many roundabout answers from everyone at Knopf that he just gave in and called Vivian, knowing that she should have been the very first person he called, but even she didn't know what was going on. She'd been going through the same jumbled telephone mess that Chris had been struggling through. He couldn't figure out why it happened, but right now, staring out at the waves, watching the clouds float by, it didn't really matter. He couldn't do anything about it sitting on the beach or on the phone. Whatever he did, he was just a tiny piece in the huge industry of publishing and marketing. He put it out and let it go from there. It was completely out of his hands now, and when it all boiled down, he was relieved to find that he didn't care at all. He smiled thinking about it, about really taking a break from the stresses of writing and editing, writing some more and then waiting for anything, everything he could get. He thought about lazy mornings, resting his head on Jake's chest as they just watched the water crash on the beach out the bedroom window. It was something they hadn't done in such a long time, something he wished they did more often. Another deep breath and he took another long, slow sip of his coffee. They'd always talked about what they'd do with time off and Jake had made promise after promise during the shoot, but Chris didn't care anymore. Now that he had that book out, had what he thought was the most polished and inspired work he'd ever done, he'd be perfectly content doing absolutely nothing at all. Right now, all he wanted was Jake to be there with him, warm body pressed against his, nose in his hair, and arms wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, smile fading from his face. The feeling was one he'd been having too often lately. He was afraid to open his eyes, knew that when everything came back into focus, he'd still be there by himself, hoping and wishing. He'd still be there alone. *** Topher's heart was beating excitedly as he practically bounded up the steps of Maggie and Peter's stoop. If Jake was in town, more than likely, he figured, Chris would be here, too. Not just here in the city, but on the other side of that door. He knocked twice, his hand shaking as he brought it back down. Chris had been ignoring every phone call, every text message, every single means of communication he'd been trying. Obviously, he'd taken Peter's words to heart, but now that Topher sort of saw how things had been headed, had gotten a reality check that night, maybe Chris would see that too, and they could continue what they'd had, the friendship he'd tried so hard to figure out. The door swung open and Topher was met with Peter, his hands frozen in surprise as he zipped up his jacket, Maggie tossing shoes into a duffel bag behind him in the living room. "Hi," was the simple greeting he was met with. Peter wasn't the one he'd wanted to see, he was probably the last person he'd wanted to see, but they were both grown men, both civil--or they could at least pretend to be. Chris wouldn't leave him hanging right there on the stoop. "Chris is here, right? I just wanted to tell him something really quick," Topher said, words fast. "No," Peter said, forehead furrowing, confusion covering his face, "did he tell you he was here?" "I saw Jake at that bar last night," Topher said, crestfallen as he looked down to his feet, his faded brown boot suddenly the only thing he wanted to talk to, "I just...I thought he'd be here." "Jake's in town?" Peter asked Maggie over his shoulder, Topher just an afterthought now. She shrugged, getting up off of the floor and walking over to the door. "We're actually heading out, Topher. I'm sure that Chris is still out in the Hamptons and we're going to join him pretty soon," she said, "but I really think it'd be best, for everyone really, if you let him figure things out between you." She ran a hand down Topher's arm and gave him a wide smile, stepping back inside to fumble for her phone in her purse, "It'd be good for the both of you." Topher stepped backwards, suddenly feeling something between a warning and an attack. The Gyllenhaals or the Gyllenhaal-Sarsgaards, the soon to be Lewis-Gyllenhaals or Gyllenhaal-Lewis's, whatever they were, really were a loyal family; looking out for each other was second nature. It was sort of endearing, but it seemed like Chris was the only person who really gave him a chance. Jake tried, maybe, but after everything played out, he didn't have anything but animosity towards Topher. Even after the things that happened between them, Chris was willing to give him a second try, probably even a third or a fourth. It was just how he was. "Sorry, I know I just showed up. I thought maybe he'd be here." He turned on his heels, shaking his head. No matter what he was doing, where he was, Chris would find a way into his head, not because Topher wanted to be with him again like that night, but because Topher just wanted to spend time with him. They genuinely had a good time when they were together. Topher just wished it wasn't always tainted with the thought of Jake looming over it, and now Peter. He knew they were just trying to protect Chris, but they just had to see that he wasn't a threat anymore. Things were different now. Very different. "Jake was at the bar last night?" Peter asked, "I thought he was out there with Chris. Was he by himself?" Peter never got an answer, Topher was already halfway down the block by the time he'd managed to put all the pieces together. Somehow, the situation had gone from Chris in New York and Jake in Canada to everyone in New York to both of them in the Hamptons and now Jake was in New York. Where was Chris? Where was Jake? Peter needed some sort of homing device, it was beginning to get out of hand. It was too weird having everyone all over the place, not knowing exactly where everyone was and what they were doing. Just knowing, for everyone, not just Peter and Maggie, just made it a little more comfortable. "Did you get a hold of him?" Peter asked Maggie, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. "He's on his way back out there," Maggie said, "he said they had to re-shoot a scene yesterday and all last night. He didn't tell us or anything because he'd be in and out, he said." "That's weird," Peter said, zipping up his jacket, "he normally tells you when he's anywhere outside his front door." Maggie's lip tightened, Jake and Chris were both guys who loved habit, loved doing everything in routine, so this was out of character for the both of them. "Vogue's here," Maggie said, shaking herself. She grabbed it and slipped it into her tote bag. If there was something to get her mind off of hoe weird things were, it was the glossy pages of Vogue. It was an escape, a cheap one at that, and she reveled in it every single month. "Is it the one Chris is in?" Peter asked, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He grabbed Maggie's and stepped towards the door, steadying himself, finding his balance, "I'm going to throw these in the car." Maggie flipped it open and there Chris was, wearing a plain white t-shirt and dark blue jeans, feet bare, Natalie laying down next to him, the huge tiers of tulle from under her pale gray dress practically drowning the both of them. Chris looked mischievous, one arm above his head and the other draped across his stomach, the slightest sliver of skin showing above the waistband of his jeans. Maggie had to look closer, the picture just seemed too real, Chris being smothered by the lifestyle he found himself in, not sure if he belonged or not. She sighed, sometimes she thought she read into things too much, but this picture, the others along with it, Chris dressed in variants of the same outfit, Natalie wearing couture dresses. Maggie understood it was a play on the title of the editorial, "Back to Basics," but she couldn't help but think that Chris had brought a little more into it. He always did that sort of thing. "Ready?" Peter asked, "you can read it on the way." "Yeah, yeah," Maggie said, shutting it as she ran a hand over Peter's cheek, "I got distracted." "You can tell him how much you love it when you see him," Peter said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Maggie smiled, sliding the magazine into her purse, it'd be good to see the boys together again, especially since now there was absolutely nothing to get in the way of doing nothing at all. *** "I don't want to talk about it," Chris said, lips sliding over Jake's, lightly pulling on Jake's lower lip, hands sliding down Jake's chest, fingertips lightly tickling Jake's navel, "I don't want to even think about it." He smiled, feeling Jake's hands on his back, rolling them over so that he was on top, sand sprinkling down over both their bodies. Jake wanted to talk about it, to talk about anything that would get his mind off of what was going on in his head--he'd do anything to get himself out of his head. Chris made him do that, made him sort of reflect on things whenever they were together by just being there, making Jake realize that everything he did had repercussions outside himself. Chris was a part of his life, a huge part of his life. He snapped out of the reverie when he felt a little hand on his back, a firm slap right between his shoulder blades. "Jake, you're going to smash Christopher. And you're both getting all dirty," Abby said, expression accusatory, "you're both going to get in trouble." Chris blushed, not realizing that Abby had come out to the beach, wondering how much she'd seen, "Is Maggie here yet?" Chris asked, still reveling in the fact that Jake's weight was right there on top of him, that Jake's body was so close to his. "She called and said that they're lost, but they're almost here," Abby said pulling Jake's arm. Jake flopped off of Chris, landing hard on the sand beside him, Chris automatically leaning over, resting his head on Jake's chest, hand running lazy patterns on Jake's stomach. He craved the contact, absorbing every touch and every caress. "Tell us when they're here," Jake said, feeling Chris' hand move to his jaw, fingers grazing his cheek. Abby ran back towards the house to sit in the bay window, waiting for her favorite cousin, getting herself far away from Chris and Jake. They were so boring when they were together, always hugging and kissing, looking at each other and just hugging some more. Chris hardly did any more coloring since Jake got there, but Maggie would be happy to do it, Abby was sure. "They had to make you shave?" Chris whispered into his ear, kissing Jake's cheek, lips sliding over foreign, smooth skin. Jake let out a chuckle, holding Chris tight against him, listening to the waves and the birds. "Continuity," Jake said, almost a whisper. "What about my continuity?" Chris asked, lips moving down Jake's jaw, hand sliding up under his sweater, rolling his body so that he was on top of Jake. The biggest difference between the beaches here and the ones back at home was the clouds. It was always cloudy here; gray and gloomy, Chris missed feeling the sun on his shoulders, feeling it warm his skin. Jake moaned when his finger brushed a nipple, sliding back down to his stomach, "I could get used to being on top," Chris said, smiling, "I like the view." Jake's eyes widened as he shook himself, licking his lips as he pulled Chris down for a kiss and his mind flooded with images of Hayden. He flipped Chris over hard, his body landing down on top of Chris' as he caught his breath, eyes locked on brown but unfocused, distracted. He pressed his lips to Chris', trying to get his head back into the real world. He pushed his tongue against Chris' lips, sliding it against Chris' as he pushed his knee down between Chris' legs, spreading them as he intensified the kiss. His breathing quickened, his heart racing, his entire body teetering between control and instinct. Chris was pushing at his chest, hands frantic on his sweater. Jake took it as a sign to go deeper, harder, pressing their bodies even closer, his erection pressing against Chris', his body hot under his clothes. Chris let out a muffled grunt and Jake felt his hands really push against him, arms straining under his weight. Jake pulled off slightly and Chris pushed him off completely, shaking his head and taking deep breaths, eyes wide. "Jesus Christ, I could barely breathe, Jake," Chris said, panting. He scrambled back on his feet, brushing the sand off of himself, standing over Jake's body as he caught his breath, mind reeling, "You're not light. And the sand, I just...I couldn't...didn't you feel me pushing you?" Jake looked at his hands, tiny grains of sand falling to the beach as he lifted them up. He blinked hard, opening his eyes and focusing on Chris, a look of confusion on his face, "I don't know...I'm so sorry." "Relax, just chill out," Chris said, straddling Jake's legs again, grabbing his hands, "I'm not going anywhere. Wow, I mean..." he stroked Jake's hair, saw the panic in his eyes, his body shaking slightly as he tried to absorb the entire thing, "it's okay. I'm fine." "I'm not," Jake whispered, "what the fuck did I just do?" He steadied himself against Chris, blinking blindly, eyes unfocused again darting from Chris to the beach back to Chris again. Chris leaned in close, framing Jake's face with his hands, trying to calm him down, lips grazing Jake's again, softer, slower, letting Jake settle back into the moment. Jake's hands moved to his back as his slid to Jake's shoulders. "I'm sorry," Jake said softly, lips brushing Chris' as he spoke, "I'm so sorry." Chris shushed him, "You already said it, it's fine." "No, it's not," Jake said, "I don't know what happened." "It's alright," Chris insisted, trying to get Jake's lips back on his own. "I need to get some tea or something. I just need to..." Jake said, still looking dazed, "you're right, I need to calm down." *** Maggie smiled, watching Abby cling to Peter's leg as they walked into the house, Jake pulling the luggage in behind them, "Where's Chris?" "Out on the beach still," Jake said, voice flat and tired, "I came in and heard the car pull up. He should be in any minute." "I'll go out looking for him," Maggie said, putting her purse down, "Abby, do you want to go look for him, too?" Her eyes grew wide, a smile spreading on her lips as she pulled herself away from Peter, "Go get a jacket and we'll head out." Peter leaned down, giving Maggie a quick kiss before the two girls headed out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched Jake toss a teabag into the trash, "How come you didn't stop by when you were doing that re-shoot? You know how your sister gets." Jake froze, "I was just...just wanted to get in and out." "You can't put Chris through this." His heart raced and he could feel the color flushing from his face, "What...how did you find out? I told Hayden not come by your house." Peter looked confused, but Jake kept talking, words fast and quick, his hands clenched into two fists. "I don't know what was going on, Peter. I wasn't supposed to fuck this up." Peter grabbed Jake's shoulders, steadying Jake's shaking body, trying to calm his frantic voice. His eyes met Jake's, wide but blank, "Jake, what the hell are you talking about?" His voice, unlike Jake's, was calm, words slow. "Did Hayden just come by and ask for a quick fuck? He's such a cocky asshole," Jake said, suddenly full of anger, his breathing heavy and his body tense, "it wasn't...I didn't want it to happen." "Fuck, Jake, you've got to be kidding me," Peter said, eyes narrowing, his hands pushing Jake back hard, his own fists tightening, "you're fucking around? Jesus Christ...what the hell are you thinking?" Jake stumbled backwards, landing hard against the opposite side of the kitchen. "It wasÉI wasÉ" Jake started, too confused to figure out what exactly happened. It was all a blur, the only thing he remembered was feeling overwhelmed, drowning in things like obligation and expectation; what he wanted and what he needed to do, what he did because he felt like he had to and what he did because he just felt, everything was so confusing. Then there was Hayden, same guy he knew before all of this, when things were still easy. And after Hayden, it was a nightmare. "Is that why he's out there? Why you're apart when all you ever want is to be together?" Peter's voice was angry, doubly effective because he was normally so composed, voice calm and soft all the time. "He doesn't know," Jake said, voice somber and eyes turned downward, "and I'm not telling him. I can't do that to him." "You've got to be kidding me," Peter said, throwing his arms up, the tone of his voice bordering on a yell, "what are you...he deserves to know. You can't just pretend it didn't happen." "I'm not," Jake said, raising his voice, "I can't stop thinking about it. I can't even fucking kiss him without thinking about it." "Tell him," Peter said, yelling now, eyes fiery, "he deserves to know." Slow and steady, every word punctuated with a step forward, Peter fuming. "This is between us, Peter, don't tell me what to do." "This isn't just you two, Jake," Peter yelled. "I know him better than anyone," Jake yelled back, tears slowly streaking his cheeks, "I know what it'll do to him." "Fuck that, Jake," Peter shouted, reeling himself when he saw how Jake was reacting, how they were both screaming at the top of their lungs, hearts pounding and heads spinning, "I've spent more time with him lately than you have, I know him better than you think I do. Give me some credit, I fucking love him and you're going to tell him." Jake wiped the tears from his face, "What the fuck did I do, Peter? He's gone. I'll tell him and he'll just...I can't lose him like this. I fucked up," he paused, afraid to hear the words come out, " and I can't fix it." --- Feedback? christopherrluu@gmail.com