Date: Tue, 18 Dec 2007 09:48:21 -0800
From: christopher. <christopherrluu@gmail.com>
Subject: breaking through part 44

Usual disclaimers apply, this is all fiction.  No implications are made
about the celebrities mentioned.  This is intended for adults, so if you're
not allowed to read this, don't do it.

Author's Note: head on over to the Gyllenhaal Chronicles site for the
latest on this story and the other Jake stories on Nifty.  It's a great
place and I'm very grateful for all the people I've met there.  Sign up at
http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalChronicles/_whatsnew.

A special thanks goes to everyone who's written to me from the very
beginning and to those just starting. I know that the story's taken a lot
of twists and turns, good and bad, but thank you so so much for sticking
with me through it all.  As always, e-mail can be sent to
christopherrluu@gmail.com or on MSN messenger with that same e-mail
address.  AOL Instant Messenger: babyofthe1980s.  I'm on both all the time,
don't be afraid to drop me a quick message.

Happy Holidays to all my readers.  Thanks for sticking around.

Part LIV

     Chris walked into the closet and rubbed his eyes, still amazed that
Wes had the genius idea and gumption to have someone come in to organize
all their clothes, everything finally hanging on hangers and all their
shoes organized into cubbies.  Yawning, he scratched the back of his head
before reaching up, stretching his back, grinning at the satisfying cracks.
Atticus came in, tail wagging as he nudged Chris' thigh.  Leaning down,
Chris scratched behind his floppy ear, patting his head softly as he
grabbed some clothes.  He poked his head out to glance out the windows, it
was cloudy and gray--a typical morning.  He vaguely recalled hearing the
soft buzz of Jake's razor this morning, the faint recollection of Jake
leaving a soft kiss on his forehead as Boo bounded up onto the bed to curl
into a ball.

     Quickly getting dressed, Chris ran his fingers through his hair,
already mad at himself for not getting up early enough to have a cup of
coffee.  Grabbing his keys and his phone, he was a little disappointed that
he didn't really get to talk to Jake this morning.  He needed to find out
when the movie wrapped.  Stepping outside, he was taken aback by the chill
of the morning, running back inside to grab a scarf to toss around his
neck, the soft cashmere still holding onto Jake's scent.  He grinned at the
thought and drove into the city.

     "How do you like a car of your own?" Stephen asked, "the freedom and
excitement."  He smiled.  He didn't know many people who got cars in their
late twenties.  Chris wasn't quite a sixteen year old with his new drivers
license, but it was almost the same.

     "I hardly use it," Chris said, setting his scarf on the back of his
chair, "but thanks.  You didn't have to give it to us."

     "No use having it sit in our driveway," Stephen said, the waiter
already setting down their food, "I ordered for the both of us."

     Chris opened the silver cover on his plate, eyes wide as he handed it
to the waiter, who gracefully pulled it off of Stephen's with a flourish,
"Caviar at breakfast, Dad?  What did I do to deserve this?"  Chris dug into
his omelet, pointing to Stephen's coffee and orange juice and motioning to
the server for the same.

     "We're worried about you," Stephen said, stopping Chris' fork halfway
to his mouth.

     "We?" Chris asked.

     "Naomi and I...," Stephen said, watching Chris slowly put his fork
down, "what have you been doing?"

     "Jake and I went to the basketball game last night, I went running
before that," Chris said before taking a gulp of juice, "why are you
worried?"

     "Did you write?"  Chris took a bite of his food and chewed it
thoroughly, not quite sure how to answer.  "We just thought it was unusual.
You're usually asking for her ideas and edits and then one day, it just
stopped."

     "I'm having trouble," Chris said, eyes down on his plate.

     "Naomi mentioned that you only had to write an introduction for this
next book," Stephen said, "Christopher, look at me." Chris' eyes met his
father-in-law's his expression concerned, "What's taking so long?"

     "I'm not really ready to do the whole publicity thing again," Chris
said softly, "the book comes out and you know...Jake's movie wraps soon and
we finally have some time together.  I don't..." he groaned, "to have to go
through the whole tour and TV thing now?  I don't want to.  I don't want to
do it if I know that I could be spending time with Jake."

     "You can write it and just postpone the release."

     "They'll want it out before Christmas," Chris said, "and I want to be
with you guys."

     "Christopher...," Stephen started.

     "I already wrote it," Chris interrupted, "and I put them in the order
I wanted and I looked over everything.  It's done."  He kept eating.

     "It's been done, hasn't it?" Stephen chuckled, shaking his head
slightly.  He knew Chris well enough to know he didn't procrastinate.

     Chris nodded, "You probably already read my intro.  I sent a bunch to
Mom and she looked them over for me."  He shrugged off his jacket, pouring
cream into his coffee.  His hoodie slipped off his shoulders onto the floor
and he grabbed it, setting it on his lap.

     "Chris, you know we care about you," Stephen said, grabbing Chris'
hand, "we just want to make sure you're not...blocked."

     "I was," Chris said, "after the funeral.  Weren't you?  What did
everyone do?"

     "Jake was worried about you, we all were.  You took it--we all took it
really hard."

     "I'm better," Chris said, "a lot better than before.  What about you
guys?  Too busy worrying about me to worry yourself?"

     "I took a project on to distract myself," Stephen said, "I heard you
did the same.  Jake told us about a Wesley McGee."

     "He's great," Chris said, smiling, "but tell me about your project, I
want to know."

     "I was hoping you'd help, son," Stephen said, sitting back in his
chair, "maybe whip something up from that crazy head of yours."

     "Anything you need," Chris said, smiling wide, "the crazier the
better."

***

     "That is where the redwoods meet the ocean," Chris said, looking at it
for a second before handing the picture back to Wes.  "In Big Sur.  I
wanted to get married there," he paused, "but Jake was so excited to get
the vineyard so he jumped at it."

     "Big Sur, like Kerouac?"

     "Same place," Chris said, "it's magical.  You should go one day.  Take
the girl, take her through the woods and then all of a sudden there's
ocean, right out of nowhere.  Sure it's a sheer drop down a cliff, but it's
nice to look at."

     "That's the last picture," Wes said, handing Chris the box, "all done.
Did Jake take most of those?"

     "Yeah, he loves his camera," Chris said, sliding the box up onto the
top shelf of the closet, "I don't know what else you can do, you can go
home if you want."

     Wes nodded, "I'll head out."

     "Thanks for coming out today," Chris said, slowly walking down the
stairs.  He opened the front door, the dogs blazing outside into the warm
sun, barking.  Chris watched as they sniffed around, ears alert, Atticus'
body stern and solid, Boo clumsily hopping around.  "Cute dogs," Chris
heard, attention snapping to the voice.

     "Thought you were done with me?" Kurt said, "just one more thing,
though."

     "Kurt, no," Chris said, swinging the door between his hands, "not one
more thing."

     "I wanted to tell you just how it was back then," Kurt said.

     "I already know.  He told me."

     Kurt stepped back, "And you're okay?  Number two's just the first
loser."

     "But it looks like I got everything I needed," Chris said, "winner or
not.  And you're the one still fighting."  His words were slow and
deliberate, each one seemed to hit Kurt hard, a punch to the stomach, a
kick to the shin.  "Number two isn't so bad."

     Kurt stepped back again, nodding, "Looks like it.  'Still fighting.'
One day though, Chris, you'll see me up there on the list with you.  You
watch out, alright?"

     "You're fighting for the wrong thing, Kurt.  But I'll be waiting,"
Chris said.

     "I'll be there right on your tail," he tightened his jaw, looking
Chris right in the eye, "maybe not tomorrow, but I'll be there."

     "Just do it the right way.  Do good work and someone out there will
find it."

     "Fair and square," Kurt said, "no more of this."

     "No more.  It's done."

     Kurt nodded and turned to his car.  Chris leaned back against the door
and watched, Kurt's expression defeated and determined, his body slumped
but strong.  It didn't need any more words, not spoken ones.  Their next
bout would be in their books, Chris knew that much.  It really was done.

***

     Jake slid out of bed; groggily scratching his back as he made sure
Chris was still asleep.  He had the moves down, the slow scoot and ambling
shuffle to get out from under Chris' arms.  On the way to the bathroom he
looked back at Chris, a soft grunt coming from the bed.  He watched Chris
turn over onto his side, drawing the sheets close and settling back into
the mattress.  Nodding, a lazy smile on his lips, Jake splashed water on
his face and brushed his teeth, the soft buzz of his razor echoing off the
bathroom walls.  His eyes were heavy-lidded, every motion routine and
automatic.  The warm water of the shower woke him up and he took a long
breath as he walked downstairs, the smell of coffee already filling the
house.  Wes had taken the time to set up the timer and to Jake that alone
made him indispensable.  Warm mug in his hand, he went back upstairs, the
gray morning light starting to peek through the windows.  The fax machine
was laden with a stack of paper and he sorted through it, his mom's
handwriting in the margins.  It was more of Chris' stories.  Nodding, he
pulled them onto his desk.  Rifling through his messy drawer, he pulled out
a pen and a post-it, scribbling a note for Wes to fax them right over to
Knopf.  This assistant stuff wasn't so hard, Jake thought, smiling again.
The whole house seemed calm and quiet and Jake sat back, warming his hands
on his coffee mug as he sat back in the chair.

     A sound in the hall snapped his head towards the door, but it was only
Atticus, patrolling the halls with his morning rounds, ears alert and
stride confident.  Jake took one last deep breath, chugging the last of his
black coffee.  He went back to the bedroom, grabbing a jacket and kissing
Chris' forehead softly, whispering a soft, "I love you," into his ear.

     Chris only grunted a response, a gentle smile on his lips as he lazily
ran his hand over Jake's jaw, "I miss you already," he whispered.

     Jake kissed him one more time and watched for a few seconds, Chris'
breathing even and his eyes still closed.  Jake slipped out of the room,
Atticus on his heels now.  He pet the dog's coarse fur, "Take care of him,
big guy."

     The traffic was bad, it always was with only one way out of Malibu,
but Jake had decided a long time ago that the ocean views and the partial
seclusion was an equal trade.  He felt a tinge of pride, Chris handled Kurt
with tact and a level head, something Jake knew he could never do himself.
Kurt had a way of getting under his skin and causing maximum damage with
minimal effort.  Nothing had changed.

     Chris might have been dreamy and naive, but when he really tried, he
was devastating.  Jake knew it, but just hearing that Chris had done in one
conversation what Jake couldn't do in three or four separate
confrontations, that only proved it.

***

     "Framed?  That was nice of them," Chris said, eyes scanning the
picture.  It was his last GQ spread, pajamas on the balcony, Jake's hairy
legs visible on the bed.  It was as close to perfect as he could imagine.
It was his own personal snapshot realized, a vision he had in his head that
the photographer shared and caught.

     "Christmas flight is booked," Wes said, poking at his PDA.

     Chris smiled.  Thanksgiving was their favorite holiday.  Jake got to
cook and he got to eat everything Jake cooked.  More than that though, he
got to spend time with baby Aaron, who wasn't a baby anymore, Peter, and
Maggie; it'd been too long since they'd all been together.  Jake, on the
other hand, seemed to live for Christmas.  There was a magic that came with
the chill and the tree, the presents and the parties.

     "Do you need me to rent a car for you guys out there?"

     Shaking his head, "No," Chris said, "we just walk everywhere."

     Another set of pokes, before his eyes came up to meet Chris', "What's
for lunch?"

     Chris glanced at the clock, "Shit, it's late."  They'd spent all
morning working out the trip and a production schedule he hoped his
publishers would like.  Admittedly, they'd been doing a half- assed job of
both, breaking for coffee and bagels.  Chris couldn't put his heart into
something that he was only half-behind.  The reluctance was a combination
of not only the promotion and traveling, but because he wasn't sure he
wanted to put these stories in a book at all.  With one bad review already,
what was the point in giving the critics another chance to chew him out?
If the stories stayed in the magazine, they were safe and he was safe.  He
was confident in them, but he couldn't deny that the bad review had taken a
blow to his hard-earned esteem.  He had grown a thick skin, but that didn't
mean that words didn't affect him.

     Wes followed Chris' line of sight out to the beach, "I can go grab
some stuff if you want."

     "We have food in the fridge," Chris said, shaking himself, "sorry."

     "Things don't ever get easier, do they?" Chris asked as he picked at
his leftover pasta.  Wes looked up at him, silent.  Half of him didn't want
to answer, knowing that Chris would elaborate further, the other half
completely clueless as to what to think at all.

     "This is your...fifth book?"

     "Five," Chris said, "and I still have no idea what I'm doing."

     "I don't think so," Wes said, forehead wrinkling, "you seem to know
your way around."

     "I sometimes do," Chris said, "but sometimes I think people are just
waiting for me to fall down or something.  They want me to put out a shitty
book or show up somewhere looking like crap.  Then they'll just have all
the ammo they need.  And I don't want to make Jake look bad."

     "You don't.  And you never look like crap," Wes said, "at least I
haven't seen you look like crap."

     "Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing when Jake and I show up somewhere
and five feet in front of me is George Clooney and five behind me is
someone like...I don't know...someone else like that.  What sort of dream
am I living?"

     "I think you earned it," Wes said, sitting back in his chair, "and
what matters is that you're happy, right?  You look happy when you're with
Jake."

     "I am," Chris said softly, "but there's always a 'but.'"

     "But what?"

     "But what if I run out of things to say?  But what happens if nobody
cares anymore?  But what happens next?  There are always a lot of 'buts.'"

***

     Chris watched the carousel of clothes swing by him, everything wrapped
in garish glossy plastic.  "One minute," the clerk said.  Chris only
nodded, expression still blank.

    Glancing at his watch, Chris realized he wasn't wearing one.  He
slipped his hand into his pocket to grab his phone, but it buzzed and lit
up as soon as he got his fingers on it.  Startled, Chris glanced at the
screen and saw a tiny picture of Jake and his goofy crooked smile.  "Hey,"
he said softly.

     "I'm coming home early today," Jake said, voice cheery and bright.

     "Early?  What time?" Chris asked, turning his back to spiraling
hangers and clothes.

     "A few minutes."

     "Shit, really?  I'll be right there.  We haven't seen each other all
week."

     "We haven't," Jake said, laughing a little, "I'll see you at home,
okay?"

     "I love you," Chris said, a smile finally forming on his lips.

     "I love you, too," Jake said, "more and more every day."

     Chris rushed up the driveway, plastic sheathed clothes dangling from
one hand as he fumbled to open the front door with the other.  Jake had
gotten home before him, his car already sitting in the driveway.  Chris
clumsily pushed the door open and saw Jake right away, smiling wide as
their eyes met.

     Rushing to him, Chris dropped the clothes and wrapped his arms around
Jake's strong chest, their lips coming together, Chris' breathing quick and
his body desperate for the contact.  "Hey you," Jake whispered, "long time,
no see."

     "I saw you last night," Chris said between quick kisses, "saw you this
morning."

     "Like I said, a long time," Jake said, silencing any further words
with his lips.

     Their kisses conveyed everything, lips crashing together, foreheads
rubbing, hands running up and down each other's sides and backs.  Chris'
fingers went to the buttons on Jake's shirt, suddenly desperate to feel the
warm skin and supple muscles.  Chris' lips moved lower to Jake's jaw as he
slowly pushed Jake towards the sofa.  He pulled Jake's shirt down off his
shoulders, trapping his arms to his sides, leaving his chest, the whole
broad expanse of hairy stomach and wide shoulders exposed to Chris'
exploring hands and soft lips.  Jake groaned when his calves hit the couch
and he pulled Chris down on top of him, straddling him on the sofa as they
kissed again.  Jake's kisses moved down, too, pressing into Chris'
collarbone and down his chest, hands running up under his shirt, tossing it
to ground as he pulled their chests together.  Gasping, Chris' fingers went
to his own pants, fumbling with the buttons as Jake hands splayed across
his back, pushing both their bodies around, lying down on top of Chris as
their bodies stretched across the cushions.

     "Take it off," Chris said, voice already dry and breathy as he pulled
at Jake's shirt.

     Jake gripped his collar and yanked the shirt off as Chris' pants fell
down to his ankles, pooling in jumble before he kicked them away.  Jake
hoisted Chris' body up on top of his, their hard cocks grinding together as
they kissed, "You're so fucking hot," Jake groaned as Chris' lips nipped at
his Adam's apple.  Chris grunted as Jake turned their bodies over, his
hands grabbing Chris' as he kissed his ear and down his jaw, a flutter down
his neck and a trail straight down his sternum.  His underwear slid own his
legs and Jake's hand went to the inside of his knee; Chris felt his leg
being lifted to the back of the sofa, his back arching as Jake's tongue ran
a long, slow trail right up his cock.  He groaned, fingers gripping the
cushions of the couch as Jake's tongue worked his length, his lips and
tongue knowing exactly what to do, where to linger and where to dart.
Chris bit his lower lip, his toes curling as Jake's fingers cupped his
balls, middle finger stroking the sensitive ridge of he perineum.

     Jake pulled back for a second, his hand stroking Chris' cock as his
eyes took in the sight of Chris' lean chest, muscles taut as his jaw hung
slack and a beads of sweat glistened off his forehead.  Jake knocked over
the box on the coffee table, lube bottle skidding across the table.  Jake
grabbed it and squeezed a stream into his hand, his finger sliding into
Chris' hole, his mouth diving back down onto Chris' cock, tongue swirling
around the head as his finger spiraled around his prostate.  Jake spread
Chris' legs further apart, loved seeing Chris' splayed across the couch,
and stroked his cock as another finger slid in, Jake leaning up to kiss him
one more time, fingers scissoring in Chris' hole, stretching the resilient
ring of muscle, "You're tight," Jake rasped out, "relax for me, Chris."

     Chris could taste the sweet remnants of pre-cum on Jake's tongue,
trying his best to steady himself, jaw clenching tight as he felt Jake's
fingers prod deeper inside of him, "Shit Jake," he groaned, words
dissolving as Jake's tongue went to his balls.  Jake's fingers slid in and
out, grunting as he sucked Chris' balls, tongue stalling for just a second
before his tongue joined his fingers.  Chris shuddered, neck stretching
back as he held back, already backpedaling from the edge of orgasm.  Jake's
name fell from his lips over and over again, incoherent as he whipped his
head from side to side, Jake's tongue sliding in and out of his hole,
scratchy beard on his soft skin, Chris' entire body racked with quakes of
sensation, each wave washing over him, almost drowning him.

     Grunting, Chris came, spurts of cum jetting onto his stomach as Jake
rose up, fingers still buried in Chris' hole.  Jake watched as Chris' cock
jerked, his body tense and rigid for just a few seconds before he fell back
onto the cushions, slack and supple as Jake leaned forward to lick a few
drops, Chris bending nearly in half as Chris kissed him, hands tangling in
his thick hair, Chris' tongue desperate as it darted into Jake's mouth, his
hands sliding down Jake's back to the waistband of his underwear.  Chris
slid them down, hands gripping Jake's ass as the moved together, Jake
reaching back to get his own underwear off, his hard dick slapping up
against his tight stomach.

     "Fuck, Chris," Jake grunted, lips desperate.  Chris' whimper was
audible as Jake's fingers slipped out, Jake pressing his face into the
crook of Chris' neck.

     Jake's name slipped from Chris' lips, stretched low and long, his head
thrown back as Jake spread Chris' legs apart, hands locked on the back of
Chris' knees, pushing back, their bodies moving closer together.  He
groaned, the words unintelligible as Jake pressed inside, his lips pressed
against Chris' neck, both gasping for breath, Chris' shuddering at the hot
stretch, the coupling intense as Jake slid in, pushing forward until he
couldn't any more.  Chris groaned and gripped his shoulders, breathing
slowing as Jake nipped at his ear and left soft kisses on his lips.

     "Nothing better..." Jake whispered, "...nothing better than this."
Chris nodded, arching his back, mouth slack as Jake slipped in a fraction
deeper, "Right like that," Jake groaned.  He pulled out slowly, watching
the subtle expressions on Chris' face as the head of his dick raked across
his prostate, Jake bit his lips, keeping the movements slow and even, eyes
drinking in the bliss that washed over Chris' features.  He pulled Chris
back a little, steadying both of their bodies as he pressed their foreheads
together, "Open your eyes, Chris, come on."

     Chris' eyes fluttered open, locking blue and brown as Jake's hot
breath swept across his cheek.  He slid his hands to Jake's neck and he
pulled, lips pressing to Jake's as his thrusts grew in speed and strength.
Jake grunted, shoulders flexing and neck straining as he fucked hard and
fast, Chris writhing under him, head tossing from side to side as Jake's
cock pushed into him again and again.  He was bent in half, knees at his
ears, groaning loudly as his cock dripped pearly clear pre-cum onto his
chest.  Jake's body was woven into his own, arms, legs, and chests fitting
together just right as they moved.

     Jake pulled out, groaning as he pushed off of the sofa and Chris
straightened his body, Jake pulling him down, lips connecting again as
Chris slid down, sheathing every inch of Jake's cock inside himself again,
both of them letting out simultaneous groans, low and shaky as Chris
started a slow rise and fall, Jake's hands sliding up his thighs to grip
his waist, the muscles of Chris' chest and stomach in stark relief as his
hard cock bobbed up and down with every motion.  Jake's eyes rolled back
and he thrust up with every one of Chris' steady falls.  He could see beads
of sweat falling down Chris' chest, feel them slicking the skin under his
fingers.  He could feel his balls tightening as Chris fucked himself
faster.  He leaned down and Chris pressed their bodies together, hands
sliding across Chris' back, fingertips tracing the bumps of Chris' spine,
gasps and groans filling his ear as he felt Chris' chute squeeze him tight.

     Wrapping his hand around Chris' dick, Jake stroked, other hand on
Chris' shoulder, keeping their lips together as Chris groaned, hands braced
on either side of Jake's head.  He pressed hard, Jake shuddering as bore
down on his dick, his own body jolting as Jake stroked him faster.  His
body was awash with ripples of tingles, electric jolts flying up his spine
as Jake's thick cock stretched him open.

     "Jake," Chris groaned, Jake's name slipping from his lips as cum
smattered between their bodies, his breathing tight and shallow, his hole
spasming on Jake's cock.  Jake's neck was tight, shoulders flexing as he
held Chris steady, basking in the tight confines of Chris' hole.

     Chris' lips were on his again, gasping for air as he struggled to keep
his eyes open, Jake slowly thrusting in and out, gaining momentum with
every tiny move.  He gritted his teeth, struggled to keep everything in
control as he gripped Chris' hips again.  One nip, one soft kiss, one bite
at that spot by Jake's ear and Chris felt Jake shudder, ropes of cum
shooting up into him as Jake went rigid underneath him.  The let out
another groan in unison as Jake's hands slid up his back, their chests
pressed together again, Jake's lips desperate for Chris' as he let the
orgasm wash over him, spasms racking his body, his cock still buried deep
inside Chris.

     "Love you," Chris whispered again and again between kisses, his hands
running over Jake's arms, tangling in Jake's hair, their bodies craving
contact, skin yearning for skin.

     "A day, that's all it was," Jake said softly, pushing Chris' hair off
of his forehead, "missed yo so fucking much."

     Nuzzling into Jake's neck, Chris let out a soft sigh.  Jake's fingers
traced down his spine again, grazing skin as they dipped into his ass
again, "Ready for more?"

     "Always," Jake said, his fingers slipping inside.  Chris gasped, eyes
shutting again.  Jake's lips were on his again, tongue seeking entrance one
more time.

***

     Topher stared at Jonas' sleeping body, limbs splayed across the
sheets, hair messy as his chest rose and fell with a slow, even rhythm.  He
looked at his own hands, same hands that were pressed red streaks across
Jonas' milky white skin, the hands that held him steady as his cock slammed
in and out of him.  He let out a long sigh as the same rush of confusion
that always acme rushed over him.  Jonas was his friend, but friends didn't
usually fuck each other.  That was simple enough.  What wasn't simple was
what they had.  They did everything friends did and they did everything
friends didn't.

     "Come here," Jonas said, grinning as he waved Topher over; the accent,
the words, everything tugging at the strings of Topher's heart, "just for a
bit."

     Biting his lower lip, Topher stepped backwards.  He could see the
disappointment in Jonas' eyes, but these feelings were too much.  He'd
loved before, more than once, and he knew what that felt like.  This was
completely different.

     "I..." his voice trailed off as he watched Jonas turn over, his body
long and lean, back smooth and languid.  He reached down to the floor,
pulling on a pair of underwear as he went to the bathroom, green eyes
staring back at him in the mirror.  He looked at himself, examining the
familiar features, same as always.  But there was something else behind it
all and he though that maybe, it could be happiness.

     Jonas stared at the bedside table, cursing himself for getting into
situations like this.  There was a picture of Chris, Jake, and Topher
together, their smiles wide and genuine, the bright yellow sun making them
all squint and the seawater glistening off their skin as their swim trunks
clung to their legs.  It had always been there.  What hadn't always been
there was him.

     He slid off the bed and grabbed his clothes, shaking his head as he
pulled his t-shirt on, struggled to get his jeans on his legs, "Don't," he
heard from the doorway, "Jonas, I don't know why I'm so fucked up."

     "I have some things of my own to work out," Jonas said, eyes angry.

     "Fair dos," Topher said, sighing.

     The words hit Jonas hard and he shook his head slowly as a nervous
smile came to his lips.  Topher wouldn't have ever said that before him,
before this whole ordeal when they only saw each other with Chris and Jake.
Something had managed to get to Topher, and even if it was just some
British slang, he knew he'd gotten in.

     "Stay," Topher said, coming closer, his trim body heavy with
sincerity, "I don't know what to say, but I don't want you to go."

     "I don't want to go," Jonas added, "but I don't like this."

     "I'm fucked up, Jo," Topher said.

     "No," Jonas said as he pulled Topher to him, both of them sighing at
the warmth and comfort.  He looked up into those green eyes, verdant and
sad.  He leaned up and their lips came together for the first time and
Topher decided right then that everything he'd felt before wasn't love.
What he had right here, that was love.

     Jonas pulled away, eyes down-turned, "Sorry," he muttered, "I know you
don't..."

     "Don't be sorry," Topher said softly, "I do now."  He pulled Jonas
against him tight, swallowing the little gasp, finally surrendering.

***

     Jake tossed the ball down the beach and watched as Atticus and Boo ran
after it.  As they came running back, Jake glanced up at the deck, where
Chris sitting with his computer, glasses perched on his nose.  "Hey you,"
Jake yelled.

     Chris looked over at him and smiled, "Keep an eye on your dogs, sir,"
he said, motioning to Atticus, who was braving the gentle waves to chase
after a gull.  He laughed as Jake ran out to get him, water splashing
around his feet.

     "How about you take a break and give me a hand?" Jake yelled.

     Shutting the top of his computer, Chris kicked his flip-flops off and
came down, patting Boo gently as he ran up to greet him, "Working too
hard," Jake said, kissing his cheek.

     "Hardly," Chris said, rolling his eyes.  Jake pulled him out to the
water, ignoring his yells as he pushed Chris down into the cool water.
"Jesus, it's freezing," Chris said, struggling to get back on his feet as
the water splashed up against him.  Atticus and Boo barked wildly around
them, Boo from the edge of the water and Atticus coming right in to voice
his protests, sending more water onto the both of them.  "You tell him,"
Chris said, finally getting upright again, "bad daddy."

     Jake pulled Chris tight against him, "I love you so much," he
whispered, nuzzling his nose into Chris' wet hair.

     Chris leaned over to kiss him, the slightly acrid taste of salt on
Jake's lips.  He smiled, pressing his forehead to Jake's, "Can you believe
it?"

     "What?"

     "Everything," Chris said softly, "wake me up from all of this.  It
can't be this good all the time."

     "If you like it, then keep dreaming," Jake whispered, arms wrapping
around Chris' waist.

     "I love you," Chris said, hands running up Jake's chest to his
shoulders, he shut his eyes for one more kiss, the sun dipping into the
water, both oblivious to the pink and orange sky that meant so much to
them.  Boo let out a few meek barks from the shore, scampering cautiously
to the two of them.  Chris scooped him up, his warm tongue lapping at
Chris' jaw, "I love that we have our own little corner of the world," he
said, scratching the dog's stomach.  Jake only nodded, kissing Chris softly
on the forehead, "I love you so much."  Chris could listen to it over and
over, it never got old and it never once sounded like Jake didn't mean it.

***

     "What went on between you two?" Jonas asked, "you can tell me."

     "Why don't you ask him?" Chris said, craning his head over the rack of
clothes, "it takes two."

     "Two to what?"

     "To anything," Chris said, "it was a really long time ago, Jonas.  If
everything's working out between you two, why do you want to bring it up?"

     "Because I want to know it all," Jonas said, pulling the clothes apart
with a loud metallic slide, their eyes finally coming together, "if it's in
the past, then why are being so quiet about it?"

     "I'm quiet about everything," Chris said, hands sliding into his
pockets, "you don't hear me talking about Jake, do you?"

     "Yes, I do.  And I listen to it," Jonas said, "because I'm your
friend."

     Chris sighed, "It was a really long time ago.  We're different people
now.  You should really ask him."  Jonas huffed.  Chris wouldn't be
withholding if it didn't really mean something to him.  He'd never seen
Chris this flustered.  "And not when I'm around," Chris added.

     "The sex is great," Jonas said, "never met someone who could keep up
and keep me on my toes."

     "Jesus," Chris said, rolling his eyes.  He ran his fingers over the
hanging clothes, feeling the soft fabric, the light brushes against his
skin.  It had been a really long time since he even thought of what
happened between Topher and himself.  They never talked about it.  He had
blocked the entire situation.  Topher was his friend now, one of the most
important people in his life, and he didn't want to lose that.  "You Brits
celebrate Christmas, right?"

     "Are you kidding?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

     "Jake and I are going to be out of town," Chris said, "we do the whole
family thing.  If you're not going home and if you're not spending it with
anyone else, I'm sure you could come too.  It's really nice, there's a tree
and it's half Chanukah and half Christmas."

     "Just you and Jake?"

     "And his parents, his sister, Peter, the baby," Chris said, "that's
it.  They're really nice."

     Jonas nodded, "Christmas with the Gyllenhaals?  Sounds like an
after-school special."

     Chris pushed him playfully, "Don't make fun of Christmas.  I love
Christmas.  Jake does."

     "Do you sneak off to fuck while they open presents?"

     Chris pushed at him again, harder this time, "I can renege the
invitation, don't doubt that."

     "So you wait until after?"

     Chris rolled his eyes.  As if shopping wasn't already hard enough, he
had to put up with this the whole time.  Jonas smirked, throwing an arm
across Chris' shoulders, "It's too easy sometimes, mate, too easy."

***

     "Don't you look nice," Maggie said, wrapping her arms around Chris',
she poked at the toggles of his coat, "Nantucket chic.  I like it."

     "It's your dad's," Chris said, "I don't do this nautical sailor
thing."

     She giggled, resting her head on Chris' shoulder as their eyes
surveyed the water.  The waves were slow and deliberate, no crashing white
crests like the other ocean, no dramatic spray and surf.  Everything seemed
to be calmer and quieter.  Everything was easier out on this idyllic
island.

     "Can you believe it's another Christmas?"

     "Believe it?  I wait for this all year."

     "You wait for it because of all this, right?" Maggie asked, taking a
deep breath, "the family and the presents, the tree and everything."

     "Exactly," Chris said, "how often do we all get together?  When was
the last time?"

     "The funeral," Maggie said, eyes locking with Chris'.

     "The funeral," Chris repeated, sighing.  He gripped Maggie's hand in
his own, "Way to kill the mood."

     "Hey," she said, voice suddenly harsh and patronizing, "you look at me
and you listen: not everything gets a happy ending.  Chris, sometimes I
love that you're so optimistic and so dreamy, but you have to see that it's
not a good thing.  Reality is scary, but it's life."

     "Why does it have to be like that?" Chris asked her, "when I'm with
Jake and we're just at home eating or watching TV or whatever, what does
reality have to do with us then?  Is that reality and the one you're in
different?  Bad stuff happens, but stuff like this bad isn't supposed to."

     "No," she insisted, "but you have to see that it's not Christmas every
day."

     Chris stopped talking, forehead furrowing as he looked at her.

     "We all have to grow up one day," she said, "every one of us."

     "Chris, there you are," Jake said, grin wide as he came out to the
back deck.  His smile faded as he got closer and saw the look of fear and
confusion on Chris' face.  "What's going on?"

     "Nothing," Chris said, shaking himself.  He leaned in, kissing Jake's
cheek softly, "I'll be inside."  Jake watched as he walked back into the
house, strides determined and long.

     "What did you say to him?" Jake asked, glaring at his sister.

     "Someone had to," Maggie said, pointing at the back door, "Jake, he's
not all there.  He's not dealing with anything the way you're supposed to."

     "Maggie, you don't know."

     "I know, Jake," she interrupted, "I went through it, too.  I loved
her, too.  I have a child, Jacob.  I don't think you two can feel what I
feel."

     "What are you talking about?  Maggie, he's been to his doctor, we both
have.  He's been though the whole funeral thing before, don't you think
it's hard enough without you yelling at him?"

     "Wake up.  The two of you have had it too good for too long.  I just
want you to be ready," her blue eyes sparkled with the hint of tears.

     "Maggie, what the hell is going on?"

     "He has you one hundred percent, Jake.  It seems like nobody else can
get into that, you or him."

     "I called you, we talked.  You talked to him, too.  You have Peter and
mom and dad," Jake said, "what are you talking about?"

    "Sometimes, Jake--a lot of the time--you two aren't with us.  It's
great you found each other, but get out of your dreams and into the rest of
our lives too," she whipped around, the soft breeze brushing strands of
hair across her face.  Jake sighed and stepped backward slowly, nodding.

     Back in the house, Chris stared at the blades of the ceiling fan, body
splayed across the bed, crumpling the sheets he'd worked so hard to get
right a few hours ago.  He closed his eyes, imagining blades spinning round
and round.  Opened them again, blades still spinning above him.  "Hey,"
Jake said from the doorframe.  Chris didn't look over.

     Mumbling something under his breath, Chris moved over a little and
Jake slid in beside him, wrapping an arm around Chris' chest, a leg nudging
between Chris'.  "She didn't mean it," Jake whispered in his ear.

     "Yes she did," Chris said back, voice flat, "and it hurt."

     "I'll make it better," Jake said, kissing his neck softly, his hands
drawing Chris closer to him, "where does it hurt?"

     "My heart," Chris said, shaking his head slowly.  He felt Jake's hand
run up under his shirt, making lazy circles over the right side of his
chest.  Chris chuckled softly, "That's the wrong side."

     Jake slid his hand over, nuzzling into Chris' neck, "I'll make it
better," Jake said again.

     "You always do," Chris said, finally turning over to face Jake.  He
ran a hand over Jake's cheek and leaned over for a soft kiss.  They were
doing exactly what Maggie had accused them of, Jake saw that right away,
but with Chris in his arms, he didn't care.  Chris scooted even closer,
their chests pressed together, burrowing deeper into Jake's embrace, "She
just hurts, too."

     Jake nodded, kissing the top of Chris' head.

     "Boys," they heard from the other side of the door.  It was Naomi,
"Help us unload the car, will you?"

     "Be right there," Jake said, pulling Chris a little tighter.  Family
might have been the one thing they both thought was most important, but
times like this made them see that family could also be the thing that hurt
the most, too.

***

     Jake pulled Chris tight against his body, chin on his shoulder, "This
one I made when I was in second grade."

     "Impressive," Chris said, hanging it on the closest bough of the tree,
"your macaroni gluing skills were quite honed for a seven year old."

     "I may have missed my true calling," Jake said, pulling another
ornament from the box.

     "The CD stopped," Chris said, slipping out of Jake's hands to press
play again.  The Charlie Brown music started again, melancholic piano
filling the living room as the fireplace sent waves of warmth around the
furniture and their bodies.  He tiptoed, kissing the tip of Jake's nose,
"This is my favorite ornament," Chris said, grabbing the next one out of
the box, little shreds of newspaper sprinkling across the floor in its
wake.

     "That's older than we are," Jake said, forehead creasing.

     "Tell me why you have a pickle ornament," Chris said, "and maybe it'll
change my mind and I'll like the gold macaroni one more."

     "It's tradition," Naomi said as she came in, "there's a story behind
it."

     "There's always a story," Chris said, "I learned that a long time
ago."

     She paced around the tree, smiling as the twinkling lights played off
the ornaments, the tiny beads of garland glistening like icicles.  She
seemed impressed, nodding with approval.  "It looks great," she said, "very
festive."

     "Chris did it, I was trying to distract him, but he was focused," Jake
said with mock gravity.

     "I put some tea on," Naomi said.

     "And I smell cookies," Chris said, smiling.

     "Your sister's work, I'm sure," Naomi said, "no doubt about that."

***

     "What's all this?" Jonas asked, confused.  The lights were dim,
candles flickering on the dining room table, the soft smell of flowers in
the air.

     "It's Christmas," Topher whispered.

     Jonas walked slowly behind him, still confused, "Where's everyone
else?"

     "It's a party for two," Topher said, "maybe not the first one."

     They still don't know exactly how to act, movements cautious words
carefully chosen.  "Topher," Jonas said softly, "I never thought..."

     "Neither did I," Topher said, smiling, "I don't think anyone would
have.  Me and you?  Come on...who thought?"

     Jonas ran his hands down the sides of Topher's face, leaning in close,
their bodies softly pressing together, their lips gently sliding together.
Soft and easy, they moved together, Topher's hands on Jonas' back, Jonas
tilting his head the tiniest bit, nobody more surprised than the two of
them.

     "It's feels right," Jonas said as their noses brushed, eyes fluttering
open, "so right."

     Topher didn't say anything, only nodding.  Somehow, he'd managed to
tame the party animal without even trying.  Jonas pulled them together one
more time, moaning softly into the kiss.  Topher's mind went blank; and for
the first time in a very long time, he wasn't jealous of what Chris and
Jake had because he had something for himself.

     "Merry Christmas, you sappy bugger," Jonas said, pulling away.  Topher
brushed Jonas' long bangs back and pressed their foreheads together, green
eyes soft, smile still unsure.  They couldn't be any more different, but
none of that seemed to matter.

     "The merriest I've had in a while," Topher whispered.

***

     "Hey, no falling asleep," Jake said, nudging Chris softly.  He
gathered Chris up in his arms, hands mussing his hair before they both
settled on the couch.  Aaron stumbled around the Christmas tree, big eyes
staring at the twinkling lights on the tree.

     Chris leaned up and kissed his cheek, "Wake me up when there's a
present for me," he said, smiling.  Jake's fingers tangled in his.

     "I'm sure you've got more than just one down there," Jake said as
Peter handed him a package wrapped in gold paper.  Jake set it on Chris'
stomach and pulled the ribbon off.  Chris tossed it to the floor and Jake's
deft fingers tore at the paper, sliding it off in one piece.  "Who is this
one from?"

     "From me," Chris said, jabbing his elbow playfully into Jake's side.

     Jake kissed the top of his head before pulling the top off, he pushed
the tissue aside, "Thank you," he said softly, running his fingers over the
fabric.  Folded, he still couldn't tell what it was.  He turned the box
upside down, the fabric falling onto Chris' stomach in a pile.  He shuffled
it around, "It's a scarf."

     "Hey, it's a nice scarf," Chris said, "nicer than the one you left in
that cab in...New York."

     Pulling their bodies together, Jake kissed him again, wrapping the
scarf around Chris' neck, smiling widely.  "Who's next?"

     "I'm going to get some coffee," Chris said, sliding off Jake, fingers
trailing over Jake's arm.

     "I'll get it for you, dear," Naomi offered, but Chris shook his head
and she sat back down.

     "You open your next present, Mama," he said, grabbing a big box from
under the tree.  He set it in her lap, "This is from me and Jake, but I
picked it out."

     She beamed, a smile arcing across her features as she gingerly tore
open the paper.  It looked like an old book, but she opened it up to see
picture after picture of Jake, Maggie, and towards the end, Chris, too.
"You have all those old pictures," Jake said, "now they're all there.  And
who else could you give pictures of yourself to?"

     Naomi leaned over and gave Chris a sweet kiss on the cheek as he
walked back into the room, "Thank you, sweetheart."

     Aaron let out a giggle and everyone smiled, Peter dangling some ribbon
above his chubby hands.  Chris fell back against Jake and he nuzzled his
nose into the soft cashmere of his scarf, "Hey, you need to open a
present."

     Maggie nodded, "This one's from me and Peter."

     "And the baby," Peter said, handing Chris a little box.

     Jake's hands folded on top of Chris' stomach, eyes watching Chris'
fingers pulling at the paper, "It's a pocket watch," Chris said, eyes wide
as he held it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, marveling at the
shiny, polished metal, "like my grandpa's."

     "It is your grandpa's," Jake said, "only she got it fixed.  It works
now."

     "You're like the White Rabbit from Alice," Naomi said, "always late.
Maybe that will help."

      Chris was quiet, staring at the second hand sweeping across the face,
his fingers running over the smooth glass and metal, "Wow," he said softly,
"thank you so much."

     "Family's important," Maggie said, "even when they don't seem like
it."

     "Yeah," Jake said, "family is what Christmas is all about."  Peter
plopped Aaron right down on top of Chris and Jake, giggles and smiles
filling the room.  Aaron erupted in a fit of laughter and Jake held
everyone tight.  It was Christmas, after all.

***

    "Hey, how was your Christmas?" Chris asked, opening the door for Jonas.
He was visibly nervous, completely out of character, and Chris could tell
he was tired but energized, like he was weary with his own energy.

    "Chris, I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," he said, stepping close.

     Chris cocked his head, "What are you talking about?"  Before he could
finish, Jonas had grabbed the sides of his head, pressing their lips
together and slamming Chris hard against the wall.  Chris protested, but
Jonas was surprisingly determined, his body pressed full onto Chris', hands
sliding down Chris' arms to grip his fingers.  He deepened the kiss, tongue
sliding into Chris' mouth as Chris struggled, eyes wide and body jerking.
He pried his hands out of Jonas' grip and pushed him away, Jonas stumbling
a few steps backwards as they both tried to catch their breath.

      Jonas jumped back at him, hands sliding down the contours of Chris'
sides, fingertips dipping into the waist of Chris' pants.  Chris was
struggling again, a jolt of electricity speeding through him when Jonas
touched his dick.  It was enough to push Jonas away again, Chris shaking
his head furiously, "Jonas, what are you doing?"

     "You're hard."

     "You touched my dick."

     "You like it rough, don't you?  I know you do," his voice was breathy,
eyes still intense.

     "Jonas, this isn't a joke."

     Jonas was silent, taking a few steps backwards, "I don't know,
Christopher, I don't."

     Chris took another breath and the entire ordeal played again in his
head, the vivid images flashing one after another, the feel of Jonas
against him, the way his hand felt on his cock.  It sent another wave of
energy through his entire body, "Jonas, what the hell was that?"

     "Fuck!" he exclaimed, fingers tangling in his hair, "fuck fuck fuck.
I'm so fucking fucked."

     Chris leaned against the wall and let his knees buckle, sliding his
body down to the floor, "What's going on?"

     "Chris, I didn't feel anything..."  Jonas said, eyes wide in
disbelief, "I've wanted to do that since we first met.  I would have cut
off my left ball to be with you.  But fuck!" his words ran into each other,
tongue stumbling as he braced himself against the doorframe, "What the fuck
is wrong with me?"

     "Jonas," Chris said, forehead wrinkling as he shook his head, "you're
crazy.  What would Jake have done if he saw that?  Normal people talk about
things like this.  You don't go grabbing your friends' dicks."

     "I don't know what this feeling is inside me, Christopher," Jonas
said, "fucking stomach doing flip flops every time I'm with him.  I can't
think about anything when we're apart.  Can't keep our hands off each other
when we're together."

     "Sounds normal to me," Chris said, struggling to get back on his feet,
"do you need something to calm you down?  Some tea?  A black eye?"

     "Tea?"

     "Get it through your thick head, Jo, you've got something with him.
Don't fuck it up."

     Chris heard the front door open and both of their heads shot to it,
Jake poking through, "Hey, what's going on?"

     "Jonas just came over for...um...," Chris said, scrambling to Jake's
side.

     "Tea," Jonas added quickly.

     Jake kissed Chris softly, shutting the door with his foot, "Tea sounds
nice," he said, pressing his forehead to Chris', "I've got a headache like
you wouldn't believe."

     Chris kissed him one more time, hands tangling behind Jake's neck.  He
felt Jake soften, his body slowly relaxing inch by inch, "Better?"

     Smiling, Jake pulled away, "I'll be right down," he smacked Jonas'
shoulder heartily, "you need to find yourself someone, Jo.  Come home to
hugs and kisses every day."  He bounded upstairs while Jonas followed Chris
into the kitchen.

     "No more," Chris said, pushing one more time at Jonas' chest, "not one
more word.  I don't want to talk about it or think about it ever again."

     "How about one more, help a guy out," Jonas said, pulling Chris'
wrist.  His blue-green eyes bore into Chris'.

     "Figure out for yourself," Chris said, "like the rest of us."  He
yanked his hand free, running it over Jonas' cheek.

     "I'm scared," Jonas said, "so fucking scared."

     Chris grabbed his shoulders and leaned in, "Everyone is.  Every single
one."  He pulled away and Jonas pulled back, hugging Chris tight.

     "I love you, Christopher.  I really do.  But it's a different kind of
love.  I'm sorry about earlier.  Like I said, I'm fucked up."

     "I love you, too, Jonas," Chris said, voice earnest.  He kissed Jonas'
cheek, "Sit down.  I'll get that tea."

     Chris heard Jake coming down the stairs and pulled away.  Jonas
motioned to the door and headed to the stove, Chris rushing out to kiss
Jake, arms wrapping around his chest, bodies pressed together.  "Hey you,"
Jake whispered, "we've got company."

     "I love you," Chris said, "I just wanted to say one more time."

---

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