PROLOGUE
Reagan winced in pain as the wheelchair that he was confided in for now at least, hit a bumpy portion of the corridor, and he clenched his fists in sheer and utter agony.
“Apologies, nearly there!” the orderly promised and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as her way to convey her feelings.
Reagan closed his eyes and just hoped to God or who ever was actually up there, that Jagger was going to be okay.
He had to be.
He was his best friend in this whole fucked up world…he just had to be okay.
“Okay, so you may be shocked at how he seemed to look, but I can assure you, the surgeon promised that he came through with flying colours and that there is nothing to actually worry about. Until now, there has been no sign of his body rejecting your liver, so we have to keep our fingers crossed,” the orderly said in her soothing, gentle tone.
Reagan just nodded. He couldn’t care less what Jagger looked like. He needed to see him, needed to see with his own eyes that he was going to be okay.
Jagger opened his eyes jus a flutter when Reagan and the orderly entered the room, and sheer terror flickered in the young man’s eyes as he wondered just what his best friend was actually doing here.
“Jesus Reagan, what the hell did you do now? Crash your car again?” he croaked out of his voice before the orderly winked at both himself and Reagan, placing her hand on Reagan’s shoulder.
“You have thirty minutes, the surgeon said. Use it well!” she whispered before she finally left and gave the two best friend some much-needed peace and quiet.
Jagger shook his head and immediately closed his eyes in sheer and utter pain as he twisted his back without thinking, and immediately Reagan grabbed his hand and looked him DEAD in the eye.
“Dude, would you fucking relax! I’m here, okay? I didn’t have an accident!”
“You had a stroke then?”
“What the fuck?”
“You tripped and broke your ankle?”
“Jesus, Jagger…that was once…”
“So, then what the hell, Reagan? I’m supposed to be the one stuck on dialysis for the rest of my life waiting for a liver transplant that’s obviously going to take forever, so excuse me for fucking worrying about my so-called best friend not telling me why the actual hell he’s stuck in a God damn wheelchair!” Jagger hissed and laid back against the comfortable hospital cushions.
Reagan took a deep breath, and he finally let go of Jagger’s hand, the moment that he realised that neither one of the two had pulled away from the other, as yet.
“Dude…you remember that I had myself tested a few weeks ago, to see if I was a match to donate a piece of my liver?” he softly asked, diverting his eyes to flicker anywhere but on his best friend.
Jagger cleared his throat.
“Yeah, of course I do. They said you were a match, but since your blood pressure was way too high, it wouldn’t be a good idea,” he answered.
Reagan shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
“Jags…look…I know you didn’t want me to, but since you had slipped into a coma a couple of days before the operation, I took a chance and had myself tested again and…”
Jagger sat up, as quickly as the wound at the back of his body allowed him to, and he stared at Reagan with his eyes watering…a sheer mixture of disbelief and despair blazing through them like a hot knife through butter.
“You…you mean…?” he managed to get out of his dry throat, as he nervously looked over towards the wheelchair, and how drained of colour Reagan himself was.
Reagan nodded and took hold of Jagger’s hand as quickly as he could.
“Dude…honestly, you can be angry with me all you like. I know you said that I shouldn’t donate because I have high blood pressure but it all worked out, right? It was my choice in the end!”
Jagger gripped Reagan’s hand so tight, it felt like the latter was seeing stars.
“I told you…I fucking told you…God dammit Reagan, you could have died!” he choked out as he finally couldn’t take the pain anymore and slumped back against the soft mattress.
Reagan sighed, allowing Jagger’s hand to fall flat on his side, before he slowly wheeled himself over towards the window, peeping out to the bright, clear blue sky outside. Kids laughing and playing on the jungle gym that had been set up outside of the hospital, birds of all shapes and sizes gliding through the sky.
He closed his eyes and methodically turned around, and smiled at Jagger.
“Kindergarten, all those years ago. I was playing in the sand pit when three of the bullies in the class came to pick on me, because I was the only kid there who wore glasses and had his hair styled in something resembling the 1960’s.”
Jagger rolled his eyes.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Reagan wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
“You remember why they stopped being mean to me? Because the tallest kid in class, told him to leave me alone and if they picked on me again, that he would punch their teeth out. They never bothered me again as long as we were enrolled there.”
Jagger blinked his eyes but he didn’t say anything.
Reagan wheeled himself closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving those of his best friend.
“Sixth grade. Because I was smaller than the rest of the boys, I naturally became an easy target and I was ambushed several times after school. Even though he didn’t go to the same school at me, my best friend, the same one from Kindergarten, made damn sure that he drove his bike to my school every afternoon, so what we could walk home together. He once again, with his taller frame and insane muscles for a kid twelve years of age, made sure that no one troubled me again.”
“Dude…” Jagger whispered, but Reagan held up his hand and stopped him.
“Finally…high school. Three years ago. We were seventeen years old and I had just been outted as being gay. The abuse…Jesus Christ, it was relentless. My best friend was out with a cold when it happened, but when he returned, he made it all go away. He even broke up with his girlfriend because she was calling him names. Having him there made high school…somewhat bearable.”
Reagan realised that he was crying and angrily wiped away the tears that was now positively streaming across both of his cheeks, unable to keep his emotions in check for one mere second longer.
“So sorry…sorry if I remember everything that he has ever done for me, and then not expect me to give him a piece of my liver when he really, really needed it!” he finished, at last.
Jagger groaned and grabbed Reagan’s arm furiously, and pulled the young man towards him. He reached in and helped Reagan wipe away some of the watery splashes of tears that he had missed.
“Jesus man…I knew we cared about each other, I knew we were lifelong best friends but…”
“Fourteen years…”
“You and your dumb numbers, who the hell is counting, bro? Seriously…you…fucking hell man, you literally saved my life! I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back for doing this. I really don’t!”
Reagan squeezed the hand of his best friend as the two young men affirmed their long-standing friendship. Their brotherhood…their kinship that they have had, ever since they were a mere five years of age.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something…” Reagan said back with a wicked smile.
**
PRESENT DAY
“I bought ice cream. Rum and raisin. Seriously, if eating this whole tub doesn’t make you feel better, then there is no hope for you.”
Reagan groaned as he refused to look his best friend in the eye, before he hissed as the duvet under which he was hiding was swiftly removed from his person, and vicious matter of the scowl on Jagger’s face made it all the more worse by the passing second.
“FUCK! Why did you do that? Can’t you see that I’m dying?” Reagan shouted before he tried and failed to grab said duvet back from Jagger who had thrown it in the wash by the time Reagan sat up in his bed and if looks could kill, they would be planning for Jagger’s funeral.
“Come on, loser. Up you get. It’s been two weeks, for God’s sake! I thought you would have been over him by now!” Jagger reprimanded him and Reagan sighed as he saw Jagger disappear into the bathroom, hearing muttering under his breath as he did so.
Slowly Reagan managed to get up and stand on his own two feet, and was just about to reach for that delicious ice cream that his best friend had bought, before he shuddered as copious amounts of cold water was suddenly and very unexpectedly POURED over him.
“JESUS…CHRIST!” he shouted and began to rubbing the water out of his face and his hair, all the while wanting to grab Jagger and literally murder him.
He felt both of his shoulders being grabbed before Jagger’s handsome face appeared before his very own.
“Now you fucking listen to me. You WERE engaged to that loser. You’re not anymore, okay? He was stupid enough to dump you for a rich sugar daddy, and that is so not your fault. You gotta stop blaming yourself!”
Reagan coughed out the last bit of water from his mouth, before he angrily pushed Jagger away from him.
“Fuck off, dude, you don’t know shit about us!”
Jagger scoffed.
“I told you…I fucking TOLD you that there was something off and wrong about him but you didn’t wanna listen to me two years ago, and you’re totally not listening to me now either!”
Reagan grabbed a towel from the cupboard and furiously tried to dry the wet spots on his hair.
“Well, who could have seen THAT coming, right? It’s not like you didn’t have some or other problem with literally EVERY guy that I have ever dated…”
“Take that back!”
“Fuck that, I won’t! Have I ever said anything about all the sluts you bring home after rehearsals?”
“They are actors, just like me. Where the hell did sluts come into the picture?”
Reagan reached into his mouth with his index finger and proceeded to make a barking motion.
“All those chicks you always bring over into OUR apartment and then I can’t sleep because they’re screaming and groaning and shouting how big your dick is and have I EVER said anything about that, like ever?”
Jagger was quiet for a moment, before he burst out giggling, so much so, that he gripped his ripped, muscled stomach for good measure.
Reagan rolled his eyes and threw the wet towel straight at his best buddy.
“I can’t help it, okay? I was in love with Brandon, and fuck me, but I didn’t see all the things that was apparently SO DAMN CLEAR and that I can totally see now! All the evenings that he had to WORK…that he had to attend MEETINGS…that he had to PET SIT HIS AUNT’s DOGS…”
“Yeah, even a blind man in Jersey kinda would have seen that coming, buddy,” Jagger reluctantly put in his own two cents.
Reagan sighed.
“I loved him, okay? We were going to get married. He proposed to me, not the other way around, so why would I have thought he would ever cheat on me? I make good money, I’m a fucking smart-ass accountant, why would I suspect he would ever leave me for a guy three times my age?”
Jagger smirked.
“Well, you may have a couple of thousand in your bank account but he left you for a guy with literally millions so…”
Reagan showed Jagger the finger.
“Thanks. That REALLY helps me feel so much better, buddy, you’re really the fucking best friend a gay guy can ever have…”
Jagger shook his head and once more took hold of Reagan’s shoulders. He hesitated, before he took both sides of Reagan’s face inside the palms of his callused hands.
“Dude…what the hell do I know, right? I’m a struggling actor, living from audition to audition, hoping to God that I would bag a gig once in a while, and you are this magician when it comes to numbers, and making the big bucks. Screw me for not wanting you to throw your life away over BRANDON, because you actually HAVE one.”
Reagan nodded, and once more, he thanked God for putting Jagger in his life. Their friendship meant everything to him, it always has.
“You can make lunch. I’ll get freshened up. Jesus, I fucking stink…” he whispered, making Jagger giggle his signature boyish thrill that seemed to attract girls by the literal hundreds.
“So, in other words, I’ll be ordering pizza with your credit card?” Jagger asked amusingly.
Reagan smirked…but he knew Jagger had a good heart and meant well.
“Sure, what else? Are you gonna sell your body?” he joked back.
Jagger stepped away, and slowly removed the tank top that he was wearing, and Reagan held out his hands to cover his face.
“Fuck man, you want me to go blind?” he laughed, all the while Jagger was rubbing both of his hands over his magnificent eight pack abs that he worked so hard in the gym to appreciate.
“Oh, come on, Reags! You wanna tell me in all these years of us being buddies, that you never once checked out this here body? All these muscles and toned biceps? You wanna feel them?”
“GET OFF!” Reagan giggled and lightly punched Jagger right in the middle of his stomach, allowing the latter to double over in sheer laughter.
“Seriously, why even bother to look for a guy, when you already have a piece of prime beef actually living with you…”
Reagan flicked Jagger’s ear like they did when they were little boys and handed him his credit card.
“Dude, stop it, we’re grown men, not horny teenagers. Go and order that fucking pizza, I’m actually starving now that I think about it. And seriously…you might have a good body and be all handsome and shit, but it will be a cold day in hell before I’m ever attracted to you. Fucking hell, that would be like kissing my brother!” Reagan teased as he sighed and finally entered the shower.
**
“Thanks for the pizza, buddy.”
“Anytime, Reags, anytime.”
“Hey, why the fuck am I thanking you, when I paid for it? Geez…I gotta get my shit together, fuck!”
Jagger threw a used serviette at his best friend, who grabbed a slice of pizza and tossed it in his mouth before said serviette could reach him.
“Nothing beats pepperoni, God damn. You probably gonna watch the game later, right?”
Jagger coughed and nodded.
“Yeah, unless you wanna watch those pussy soap operas you always wanna put me through.”
Reagan smiled.
“Seriously, you’re an actor and you’re telling me you’ll turn down a part on Days of our Lives or something if it came your way?”
Jagger grinned his signature grin and stood up. Before Reagan knew what hit him, Jagger had him in a traditional full nelson wrestling move, before tossing him softly onto the carpet.
“I’m all action, you know me. The ladies LOVE it!” he replied, before tossing the remote over towards Reagan.
“Still an hour or so left before the game stars, buddy. You go nuts,” he said, before both men were suddenly silenced as Reagan’s phone started to ring.
“Just a sec,” Reagan said before rushing to the dining table where he had left his phone and Jagger immediately saw the frown on his friend’s face as he saw who was calling.
“Reags?” he started to ask, but the latter shook his head.
“It’s my mom…” he softly said.
Jagger stood up and walked over towards Reagan. He took Reagan’s phone from the table and gently placed it in his hands.
“Answer it. Never mind what they had put you through in the past, at least you still have a family out there. I wish I still had,” he said quietly, before he squeezed Reagan’s bicep and gave his best friend some much-needed space for the phone call.
Reagan took a deep breath, before he flicked the green button on the screen.
“Mom? Everything okay back home?” he asked as he answered.
“Why do you always assume something is wrong whenever I call you?” Veronica Taylor asked as Reagan sighed as he always does whenever anyone of his family members made contact.
Which they rarely did.
“Okay then, to what do I owe this magnificent pleasure of your call?” he proceeded to ask, trying to keep things light as possible.
He vaguely heard his mother say something to someone in the background, before she returned to their conversation.
“You do remember what is happening this weekend, right Reagan? Granddad’s eightieth birthday party?”
FUCK.
FUCK!
He had totally forgot…what with everything happening with his break up with Brandon…oh my God, his grandfather was literally the only person in his entire extended family that still wanted anything to do with him.
How could he forget a special day like that, regardless of his own fucked up life?
He loved his grandfather dearly. That man was the father that his own, could and would never be able to ever be. He understood him, he GOT him.
But most importantly, he never chose to judge him.
“Honestly Reagan, you forgot, didn’t you?”
“Well, Mom, sorry, but I actually have a life here, okay? I feel bad enough, so you can stop with the melodrama. It’s this weekend, right?”
He heard Veronica sigh.
“Well, yes, but only if you can make it. Don’t go through unnecessary trouble and expenses just to come home for a weekend.”
Reagan closed his eyes and begged for patience.
“It was Frankie, you just spoke you, right? Let me guess, he doesn’t want me there and Dad doesn’t either. But Granddad does, because it would mean the world to him to have his oldest grandson there, so you can’t actually say no. So, now all you guys CAN actually do, is to hope that I can’t make it. How am I doing so far?”
Veronica was quiet for a few moments, so much so, that Reagan was actually starting to think that she had hung up, but he then heard her sigh once more, before clearing her throat.
“Reagan, you have to understand, that your life choices are not something that my father or your brother for that matter, are prepared to understand or ever accept. My God, you were raised in a Christian household, to this day, I cannot for the life of me understand what happened to you?”
“Mom, there was literally a photo somewhere in some album where I posed playing with a Barbie doll when I was THREE years old! I say WAS, before knowing you and dad, you probably burned the thing. But that’s just it though…how can you say it is a CHOICE? I was born this way, and you God damn know it!”
Veronica scoffed.
“Well, if you are going to be like this for the entire weekend, perhaps it is better if you won’t come.”
Reagan smirked…and there it was.
She and Frankie planned this…that was the background noise he had overheard at the beginning of the phone call. So that they could go and tell his grandfather that he refused to come, when in reality, it was way more complicated than that.
Well, screw them.
Screw Mom.
Screw Dad.
And screw Frankie.
“Mom, can you please put Granddad on the phone? I don’t ask for much, please?”
He could actually hear his mother rolling her eyes, very much like Reagan himself did when it was irritated as fuck. He also knew that she loved Granddad with all her heart, and that she wouldn’t begrudge him a talk with his beloved grandson.
“Hold on. And be on time at the weekend!” was her final words, before she seemingly handed the phone to his grandfather.
“My boy? Reagan, is that you?”
A smile as wide and deep as the Kalahari Desert framed around Reagan’s mouth as he sat down and held the phone close to his ear.
“Hey Pops! Yeah, it really is. And guess what…I’m gonna be seeing you this weekend! Eighty, good God, you raking in them years right now!” he chatted away.
It filled his heart with utter joy as he heard his grandfather’s laugh from the other side.
“It’s been too long, my boy. Way too long. You haven’t been home in ages.”
Reagan swallowed, slowly. He suddenly felt guilty as hell.
“Granddad…”
“I know, my boy. I know things are difficult between you and the rest of the family. You are what you are, and you can’t and shouldn’t change for anybody. And I know in time, you and Brandon will perhaps someday adopt some kiddies of your own, and I just hope that I will still be able to see them when the time comes.
What?
Brandon?
Kiddies?
“Say what now, Granddad?”
“You know…Brandon. Your fiance. It makes an old man’s heart so happy to see that you, despite of everything that you have faced with the family, and you are finally standing on your own two feet and showing these complete idiots just how well you are doing. As a proud gay man.”
Jesus.
He…never told Granddad that he and Brandon broke up.
They haven’t spoken in ages.
“Uhm…Granddad…”
“You know what tickles me? When you and Brandon arrive here on Friday, everyone around here who always said that a relationship between two men would never survive, would be proved wrong. You’re getting married, my boy! I can’t wait to see you, and of course to meet Brandon too.
HOLY MOTHER OF…
This wasn’t happening.
“My boy, are you still there? I said that I’m looking forward to meeting the man who stole your heart.”
JESUS.
Reagan took a deep breath, as Jagger emerged from his bedroom, shirtless and wet. He had obviously taken a shower in the time that Reagan had been on the phone.
The several droplets of water were positively cascading down his ripped torso, his long wet blond hair that he always wore in a man-bun (because the girls fucking dig it!) was hanging down his shoulders making his best friend seem almost God like at that moment and time.
“Everything okay?” he mouthed.
Clearing his throat, Reagan turned his attention back to his granddad.
“We’ll see you this Friday, okay? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you,” he replied, before ending the call.
**
“YOU DIDN’T tell him?
Reagan looked at his best friend like he had just been placed into a straightjacket.
“Dude, the old timer is turning eighty! You want me to give him a heart attack as a present?” he thundered.
Jagger finished tying his long flowing hair into his customary man-bun, before he grabbed two bottles of Coke from the fridge, tossing one over to Reagan as he did so.
“You could have just said you and that loser had broken up, what’ it to your grandfather anyway? It’s not like HE was dating the dude. That would be SICK though…”
“Jags, grow up! You’re right. Of course you’re fucking right. As fucking always. I should have told him. But then he went ON and ON and ONE about being so God damn proud of me for being a gay man and not have the family roasting me since I was seventeen years old get to me. I guess, I just didn’t wanna disappoint him.”
Jagger took two huge sips of his Coke.
“You’re gonna have to do that at the weekend, anyway, buddy,” he replied.
Reagan slowly opened his own bottle of Coke, downing some of the ice-cold liquid.
“Yeah, I guess. Just wish I didn’t have to though. Like, he is the one person who always had my back, even when my dad threw me out of the house when I came out as gay.”
Jagger pursed his lips.
“You didn’t come out. You were outted by Jasmine and her army of skanks all because you didn’t wanna have sex with her,” he hissed angrily.
“How was I supposed to know she was going to steal my phone and reveal my search history to the entire school?”
Jagger giggled, but immediately composed himself.
“Yeah, to this day, I am SO glad that you didn’t google stuff like bondage and edging because THAT would have been so much worse…”
“You’re really not helping, Jags!”
Jagger smiled and patted Reagan’s shoulder. For a few moments everything was quiet between the two life long best friends, which if you knew them, was not like them at all.
Reagan sighed and stood up, tossing the TV remote towards Jagger.
“Game is on already, you missed the beginning thanks you all your shit talking,” he muttered before he turned towards the corridor to head upwards to his room.
Lord knows what that would achieve, but he needed time to think.
“Reags, wait!”
Reagan stopped and turned back to face Jagger.
“Jags, I’ve told you before, I ain’t watching the football with you…”
Jagger smiled and jumped up from where he was sitting, wiping extra residue from his Coke from his mouth, before he stood before Reagan, his eyes positively SPARKLING.
“I know what look. I’ve seen it at least fifty times a day since we were five years old. What is going on in that brain of yours?” Reagan carefully asked.
Jagger suddenly stopped smiling, and got deadly serious. He turned around, away from Reagan, as if to compose to himself, before he turned back and stuck out his hand towards his best buddy.
“The fuck are you doing?” Reagan started to ask, but Jagger refused to take his hand away.
“How does this sound, okay? What’s up? I’m Brandon, Reagan’s fiance. It’s really nice to finally meet you all.”
**
“The hell did you put in that Coke? Jagermeister?” Reagan asked.
Jagger giggled but only for a few minutes, as they say in the industry, breaking character.
“This is a really nice place you guys got here. Reagan has told me so much about all of you, I feel like I’ve known you for years.”
Reagan punched Jagger on his shoulder in complete and utter disgust.
“My own fucking family are making fun of me, and now my best friend is doing it too? Fuck you, man,” he started to say, but of course, Jagger stopped him from heading back to his room.
“This is fucking perfect! I can totally pull this off too!”
“Jagger, get real! What the hell are you even talking about?”
Jagger walked to the middle of the room and placed his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants, staring at Reagan as he did so.
“Reags, just…hear me out okay? Just bear with me for a moment.”
“I can barely bear you for a second…”
“Dude, who better than to pose as your finance Brandon, than me! It’s only for the weekend, anyway! No one, literally NO ONE knows you better than me either, it all fits!”
Reagan narrowed his eyes…all started to make sense and click inside his head what Jagger was actually suggesting they do.
“Let me get this straight…”
“There is nothing straight about you…”
“You wanna…go with me to my family’s farm and PRETEND that you are Brandon and we…I mean me and you, are dating?”
“Don’t forget about the upcoming wedding, love of my life!”
“JAGGER! GET REAL! My family knows you; we’ve been friends ever since we were five fucking years old! Do you honestly think my parents and especially Frankie is going to believe this shit?”
Jagger spat out an imaginary piece of chewing gum in complete and utter disgust.
“You’re the one who should get real. Where were your folks when we were growing up? Your grandparents practically had to raise both you and Frankie since they were never there! I highly doubt they are going to recognise me with my long hair and chiselled features after all these years.”
Reagan stared at Jagger as if seeing him for the very first time.
“You’re actually serious, aren’t you?” he whispered.
Jagger sighed and slowly walked over towards Reagan, and once more, like he had done numerous amounts of times, he placed his hands firmly on both of Reagan’s shoulders.
Only this time…a shudder BLASTED through Reagan, something that had never happened before, when Jagger did something like this.
“You literally gave me a piece of your liver five years ago. It’s thanks to you, that I’m even still here, buddy.”
“Fucking hell, Jags, you can’t use that now, not like this…”
“I can and I will. You risked your own life to save mine. With your high blood pressure things could have gone south as hell, but you did it anyway, because you love me, and I love you. We’re best friends. If anyone can pull this off, it is us! Don’t tell me you don’t believe that!”
Reagan looked at Jagger…and I mean, REALLY looked at him, probably for the first time in his life. Seeing his beautiful blue eyes and his luscious locks of blond hair that he always knew Jagger possessed, but never really thought about…because Jagger was his best friend.
He was and never will be attracted to him, because they had that vast strong friendship, lasting over twenty years by now.
It would mean the world to Granddad.
That was reason enough to actually do this.
What if they get caught?
What if Frankie or his parents recognised Jagger?
Could they really take that chance?
Then again, it was just for the weekend.
Two days.
Then everything would be back to normal, and somewhere down the line, they could always tell Granddad that they had broken up…somewhere where the old man would not be celebrating his God damn eightieth birthday.
Reagan sighed and his eyes flickered towards Jagger’s.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered.
Jagger hesitated for just a second, before something in his demeanour changed.
Both of his hands were still firmly on top of Reagan’s shoulders by then, and once more, he grabbed both sides of his buddy’s face and looked him deep in the eyes.
It was like Reagan knew what was coming next, what Jagger was going to fucking do, but it was also like his brain was refusing to believe it.
Because this was Jagger.
His best friend.
And best friends don’t do stuff like this.
**
Jagger’s mouth was on his own before he could say BUSTED.
It was only a short kiss, lasting barely five seconds, but it honestly had both men trembling when it was over.
Reagan swallowed…trying desperately to digest that his best friend had just kissed him, and not in a friendship kind of way.
And suddenly all that he could think of was those numerous babes that Jagger always brought home and banged up in his room. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t blame the girls for falling for Jagger.
God knows, he just had a smidgeon of what being with Jagger felt like and it already felt like he was lost in space.
“See? I’m that good an actor, I even have you fucking SHAKING! If they ever reboot Brokeback Mountain, I’m so getting cast!” Jagger giggled as he patted Reagan on his shoulder and sat down, switched on the TV and finished his Coke in one full swoop.
Reagan cleared his throat.
He wasn’t quite sure what was happening.
Literally ten minutes ago, Jagger was still Jagger. His life long best friend.
Suddenly they kiss for five fucking seconds, and to Reagan it felt like the world had turned upside down.
“You’re an awesome actor, bro. I’ll give you that,” he whispered, smiling faintly as he saw Jagger giving him a thumbs up.
**
“Now for God’s sake, don’t get their names all mixed up! That will fucking expose us completely! As my supposed fiance, you’re supposed to know it by heart.”
Jagger smirked.
“Dude, we’ve been THROUGH this! Your father is Gordon Taylor, your mom, who by the way, I would really like to bang…”
“OH MY GOD, JAGGER…”
“What, she’s hot!”
“Pull over, for real, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Your mom is Veronica Taylor, you have a younger brother, the asshole called Frankie, and your youngest sibling is your sister Tanya. Your granddad is Colin, but that is covered, because I’ll be calling him Sir…it would obviously help with getting his respect and so on.”
“Fucking hell, you have really thought this through.”
“I’m a method actor. Sue me.”
“Well method this…if they even so much as recognise one hair on your head, we are OUT of there.”
Jagger patted Reagan’s knee.
“They won’t, would you just trust me?”
They drove the rest of the distance in silence, whilst the car radio blasted AC/DC over the Bluetooth speakers. Reagan hated…HATED anything to do with heavy metal, but he felt that allowing it was the least that Jagger deserved, after doing all of this for him.
He turned to look at Jagger.
Once more, he was stunned at just how…beautiful his best friend was.
It was so funny…and so unbelievably astounding at the same time…before that kissed, they shared a few days ago, Jagger was just Jagger. He knew the dude was sexy as hell, I mean, he would have to be blind or straight to NOT notice it.
Since he was neither, he was aware of his buddy’s good looks, but never really thought anything of it. He was happy when Jagger dated a different girl every two weeks, not jealous or anything.
One kiss could have caused him to see Jagger in SUCH a different light? How was that even possible?
“Home sweet home!” Jagger announced as they drove into Pearly Cove Ranch, the Taylor family farm where Reagan had grown up.
Reagan shuddered as they drove past the familiar surroundings. He hadn’t been home in ages. Not since he as eighteen and his father had no legal standing to keep him around anymore.
His eyes fluttered over the pool at back of the house, where he and Frankie and Tanya had spent majority of their childhood in. The trees that he and his brother never grew tired of climbing.
Once, Tanya joined them and she fell out of said tree and broke her leg. That night their father Gordon had giving both Reagan and Frankie such a damn hiding, they couldn’t sit down for a week.
“Dude, we can’t do this…” he suddenly muttered.
“Fuck that, we came all this way…”
“Jags, I’m fucking serious! No one is going to believe…no one except my grandfather even WANTS us here!”
Jagger parked the car and stared at his best friend for a moment.
“Reagan Anthony Taylor, now you listen to me. I only may be a jobless actor, but I do have a heart and I do have brains. And if we get caught, we get caught. But what if we don’t? What if we ACTUALLY manage to pull his off and fool everyone? Then you, my friend, you go home with your head held high. Because you MADE something of yourself. And you have a handsome, sexy fake fiance who thinks the world of you. Okay? We good?”
Reagan took a huge breath and blew out some of his nervousness in free air form, before he took one last look at Jagger, before nervously nodding.”
“Okay. Okay! You’re right, we got this!” he said, aiming a fist bump at Jagger.
Jagger’s eyes flickered over towards the house, before returning the fist bump gesture.
“Uhm…even if we wanted to back out, we literally can’t…I think your parents are on their way over here…” he muttered softly.
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