Of course, first things first. I checked out which of the cameras in the back room had a good view of my desk and laptop. I rearranged them so the desk was positioned under the window, where three of them had a better view of it. Than I connected my laptop to a pair of widescreen monitors. I set up an external keyboard and left everything in full view, showing I was super serious screenwriter, here.
Then I bought a new MacBook, transferred everything about Nicky and Stevie and Georgie onto it using an external hard drive, and kept both in my briefcase. In my bedroom. I had kickass WiFi and a nice table and chairs on my balcony to work at. I then changed all my passcodes and verified there was no one but me logged in to the server. I figured that would end any relays through that potential antenna, but wanted to be safe.
So I did all the party stuff at my desk. Invitations. Catering. Event planner. Even valet parking, set up with a nearby lot, and a shuttle car for valet boys to use going back and forth.
Now this may sound like a lot of mess and effort for a party in a condo, but my place was actually pretty good-sized. I had a large front room and, thanks to the minimalization of the designer, not a lot of furniture to move around and out of the way. The kitchen was huge, as I liked. There was the toilet, downstairs, the bathroom upstairs, and the balcony added plenty of space, as did a small yard in front with direct access to the beach. I could easily handle a hundred people...and any more than that is just ostentatiously silly. And since parking in Venice is a bitch, I didn’t wany anybody having to walk five blocks to their car in the middle of the night.
For the guest list, I had the producers, previous writers, Stevie and others in the videos...and the crew, who never get invited to parties like this. I was expecting seventy-seventy-five guests so allowed for the full hundred. I had a good freezer for any leftovers, and the caterer loved my kitchen.
Now here’s the fun part...I casually mentioned to Vance that I was inviting Mr. Nicholas McNevin Chase.
“Why?” was the first work out of his mouth.
“Oh, uh, networking,” I said, pretending I wasn’t paying that much attention to our conversation. “I hear he’s moving up the chain from modeling and acting to producing, and since I just did a reality show, I wanted him to keep me in mind for future projects.”
He actually hesitated. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“Really? Hmph. It was a sub-story on Celebrity Scandal Week. Which wasn’t a scandal. More like a snarky Yeah, sure, that’s gonna work. But you never know.”
“True, in this town.” Now his voice was truly wary.
Just to be an ass, I said, “Oh, wait...why don’t you bring him as your plus-one? Keep an eye on him. Make sure I don’t get too close.”
“Oh, stop it. You act like I don’t trust you.”
“Do you?”
“Jesus, Rett. Why would you even ask me a question like that?”
“Just feelin’ frisky. Tell you what, bring Ben and Liam, too. I’d send them invitations but I don’t have any way to contact them.”
“I...um, okay, I’ll let them know.”
“Cool. Eight is great? Week from Saturday.”
“It’s a date.”
Oh, was it ever going to be.
I kept myself happy by jacking off to Ralph’s and Ryan’s recordings, seated in my office. Keep the spies satiated with my superficiality. Until I happened to connect with a lovely black sk8ter who had sloe eyes and a hot ass on top of perfect legs...and who loved my blow job so much, he let me fuck him.
And by let me I mean he swore he wasn’t into that...but a little TLC on my tongue’s part changed his mind and opened his horizons.
He didn’t have much hair on his body, just some nice scruff on his well-shaped chin, but his muscles were so smooth and well-placed and his dick so amazing, I had to blow him, again, as he took a shower. Which he really liked.
I can’t give out any more information than that because he’s an actor who’s very much on the downlow, a term I didn’t know was still being used. But he said he’d be back, sometime. I invited him to the party but he was headed to Georgia to work for three months. I really do look forward to his return...so long as I’m still out of jail...
Anyway, the big night came around and everything was in order. Caterer van backed into my garage and they took over the kitchen at five, to prep and heat and mix and match. Bar was set up diagonal from my big-screen tv. Episodes from the show played over that. Valet arrived at seven-thirty and people began showing up at just after eight. The crew people, mostly, for the food. Some came by Uber; some their own car; some actually walked, since they lived nearby.
I didn’t notice Ben and Liam till after nine, when they appeared by the kitchen entrance. Each with a beer and a plate of food. Real plates, not paper. Chairs and small tables were set up all over and in the front yard, so I waved to them as they made their way through the growing crowd to sit outside. They nodded back. They wore nicer shirts, nicer shorts and tennies, of course. Cute kids. Too bad they’re off-limits...
For now.
Vance didn’t show up with Nicky until after ten. No apologies; non expected. He wore less in the way of hiding clothing, looking almost normal. While Nicky...
Fuck...
Was this the face that launched a thousand ships and burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
I know it’s pretentious to reference Marlowe at a time like this, but holy fucking shit...up close and personal, he was a god. A couple inches taller than me. No bulk, just clean smooth muscle under a loose burgundy silk shirt that was lightly tucked into black dress slacks in the coolest cut, not needing a belt to keep them up and...and Italian fucking loafers!
I love Italian shoes.
He stood straight and sure and his nips poked at the silk so coyly and elegantly, I nearly stopped breathing.
Vance pretended not to notice as he said, “Nicholas, this is the writer I’ve been telling you about. Garrett Marshall. Did a phenomenal job restructuring the script for Sk8ter to the Stars.”
“Yeah?” He gave me a fist bump with a hand that was cared for but not overdone in its neatness and...and...and...
And the second his skin touched mine I felt my heart leap straight to my dick.
But all I said was, “Good to meet you.” And thanked God I was wearing briefs.
He gave the room a glance and nodded. “Looks smaller from the outside. Your place?”
I nodded, managing to keep my voice level as I said, “I kept the furnishings minimalized and clean. I don’t like a lot of clutter. You’re welcome to anywhere and anything you want.”
He just nodded then headed to the bar.
That is when Vance nudged me and said, “You’re blushing.”
I was. So I leaned close to him and whispered, “No fucking shit, so you better keep an eye on me.”
“I intend to. The boys here, yet?”
“Front yard.”
“Good to know.”
That is when Stevie and his wife showed up and guided my focus away from Nicky. He was a bit shorter than I expected, and in person not really all that interesting. I’ve run into that before, when someone who looks nice and normal when you meet them but the second they’re on camera they turn into a sex god, and he was one. Like I thought, the camera loved him. And I was so glad I could set aside my obsession with him.
For now.
We did the usual Glad you could make it. You really helped the project. You’re the one making it work. Thanks. And on and on. In fact, I actually liked talking to him as an equal. So he drifted off my list of guys to do. I wanted him as a friend, not a fuck toy.
He got to chatting with some crew members while others watched the show on the big screen. I noticed Nicky was also watching it, very interested. Holding a Corona. A canape in his other hand. His stance was so casual yet chic, he was like a panther amongst kittens. The line of his body so smooth. The curve of his back into his amazing ass so perfect, even when partially hidden by the loose shirt and snug-enough pants...
I began to wonder if there was anything I could do to get him alone.
Just for a moment.
Just to see if he’d be interested...because I wasn’t getting anything in the way of possibilities from him. And usually I’m pretty good at sussing that out.
Some people left. More people came. I kept making the rounds to chatter with everyone. Nicky was pleasant and polite with everyone who approached him...even Ben and Liam when they flanked him at the sliding doors to the yard.
But I felt the wary gaze of Vance on me at all times.
Finally, it was past midnight and only a few people were left. Stevie and wife had gone home to their kids. Vance had vanished somewhere, hopefully not onto my bed with someone male or female. And Ben and Liam were in the kitchen, each with a beer and nibbling at the last of the food, talking so softly it felt secretive.
I made my way over to them and said, “Did you have fun?”
They both tensed and cast me a look of uncertainty.
“It’s okay, Rett,” said Ben. “We were here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Liam added, nodding. “Nice party. Nothin’ like Georgie’s.”
“Yeah, his were usually screaming queens everywhere.”
“He had way more furniture, too.”
“But not as many people showing up.”
Liam nodded.
I looked at Ben and said, “Party’s pretty much broke up. You drive here?”
He shook his head, absently. “Walked. I’m crashing at Liam’s.”
“He close by?”
“Just a block...over...” Then he cut himself off, as if he’d said too much.
Which he had. I now had an idea of Liam’s proximity, and if that wire still worked, it was probably broadcasting to his residence. I acted like I hadn’t noticed.
“Guys...are we on good terms?” I asked.
Ben frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”
“If you’re still unhappy with me, why’d you come?”
Liam sighed and said, “Vance asked us to.”
“As backup,” said Ben.
Shit, I’d been double-teamed by sk8ter boy security.
I made myself chuckle. “You think I’m going to rape Nicky?”
Ben looked straight at me. “The way you’ve been talking about him? And what you did with us? Yeah.”
“That’d be stupid of me,” I replied, smiling. “If we’re gonna work together, I can’t do anything that’d put him off me.”
“Work together?”
I nodded. “Didn’t Vance tell you? He’s working with Nick on a new program. Needs a writer. He likes what I did for Stevie’s project.”
“Stevie?” asked Liam.
I chuckled. “Smoke. Stephen Marlon Kratorski.”
“Oh, right. Right. Saw him here.”
“He didn’t know us,” said Ben.
Us?
I’d only seen videos of Liam messing with the guy. None with Ben, even after going through all Georgie’s DVDs. So there were other projects out there? Some I hadn’t seen?
I just said, “The videos I saw he was blindfolded. Might not have known who was doing it to him.”
The boys just shrugged to each other. They still seemed nervous.
That’s when Vance appeared and said, “Valet asked me to let you know they were done for the night. Everyone who used them is gone.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Last car. Parked in your garage.”
I nodded. The caterer had cleaned up and cleared out half an hour ago.
“So...party’s over,” said Liam.
Ben nodded then he and Liam headed for the garage door.
“This was a good idea,” Vance said as he and I followed them. “People got to see each other. A couple more jobs got set up. How do you feel about Nicholas?”
“I’d like to work with him.”
“I bet you would.”
I sighed. “You really have no respect for me, have you?”
That made him blink. “I never said that.”
“No, you just show it in the way you act around me. The way you manipulate me.”
That brought a cool careful expression to his face. “Careful, Rett.”
I smiled. “I will be.”
He smiled back, but only in a professional way. “Good. Let’s talk next week about the job. Tuesday work for you? About one? My office?”
“You have an office?”
“Oh, Rett, stop trying to be clever. It doesn’t suit you.”
Then he went into the garage, got in his car, and drove away...with Ben and Liam as passengers.
Of course. See that the boys got home all right. Gotta be careful about big bad Rett.
I closed the garage and locked the door then headed to the front to check on that and...
Nicky was there. Leaning against the sliding glass door in a way that made him seem like sex incarnate. Looking straight at me.
I jolted to a halt. “Sorry, Nicky, I thought you’d left.”
He said nothing. Did not move. Just kept his amazing eyes locked on me.
I finally said, “Do you mind me calling you Nicky?”
No response.
“Would you prefer Nicholas?”
Still no response. He was almost like a statue. My breath was growing shallow at the picture he made, and I started wondering if I still had that roll of packing tape in a kitchen drawer.
“How about Nick?”
That brought an impossibly gorgeous smile to his face. Then he straightened up, casually came over to me in a cat-like stroll, took my face in his elegant hands and kissed me.
He fucking kissed me!
Holy fucking shit, he fucking kissed me!!!!!
And what a fucking kiss.
Just lips to lips, no tongue...with the vague taste of brandy...
Brandy?
No, I hadn't had brandy there...it couldn't be...the taste of him was too light...had to be something else...something lovely...too lovely...too perfect...
Reminding me of all that is good and pure and desirable in the world.
Nothing vile or base or animalistic, just the beauty of existence.
The joy of giving and receiving.
Of joining with another human being in all that is holy and meaningful in life.
A connection that demanded permanence and reverence and love eternal.
It couldn’t end. It never could end. Please never let it end.
So when he pulled away, even though it was only the slightest bit, I nearly wept until...
Until he whispered, “I like Niko. Call me Niko.”
And he kissed me, again. This time caressing my lips with his tongue. Parting then gently. Oh so gently. Until his met mine with the barest of touches and my heart all but stopped and my breath nearly ended and...and...I could not think because I...I...
I was lost in that glorious world.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
