Chapter 20 #2
The gentle tapping at his door dispelled the pleasant memory.
Mike walked across and opened it to find Jack standing there, dressed in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that showed off his ripped body and tattooed arms. The tattoo that curled around his collarbones was just visible above the neckline of his T-shirt.
“Hey.” Jack gave him a half smile. He ran his hand through the short layers of hair on top of his head.
“I was waiting for you to arrive.” He glanced to his right down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Mike could hear Nico laughing and chuckles from the two younger men.
“Can I come in?” There was a jumpiness to him that was new.
“Sure.” Mike stepped aside and let Jack into the room, closing the door behind him. He watched his former lover walk across the room to the window, shoulders hunched forward, his gait lacking his usual fluid grace. Mike frowned. “What have you done to yourself?”
Jack turned, eyebrows lifted. “Damn, that was quick.” His smile widened. “I forgot how much you see.”
Mike was having none of it. He took a deep breath, as if that would help to quell the anger and hurt welling up inside him. Fat chance.
“What the fuck, Jack?” He clenched his hands at his sides, staring at his old friend, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.
Jack paled. “Mike?” He swallowed hard.
“Fucking bareback? What the fuck are you thinking of?” Mike’s heart hammered so strongly, it caused him pain.
“Oh God. You know.” Jack reached out for the plastic chair by the window and crumpled into it. “I shoulda known you’d get to hear about it.” He gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles white.
“Oh yeah, good news sure travels fast in this industry,” Mike said with a snarl.
“Far more important to me, however, is why I got to hear about it from William fucking Marks and not from you!” He couldn’t keep a lid on all the emotion that bubbled up to the surface.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. After everything we talked about, our agreements… .”
“Mike, please, hear me out,” Jack pleaded, his face now white. “I can explain.”
“We always talked about this, damn it!” Mike yelled.
“Have you given a thought to the ramifications for your costars? ’Cause I’m thinking about them right now, not you, you selfish bastard.
Damn it, you’re supposed to care about people!
The Jack I knew cared. He wouldn’t risk the people he filmed with, curled up with, loved…
.” Mike struggled to draw a breath, his pulse speeding, heartbeat pounding.
Jack rose slowly to his feet, his breathing rapid, his expression pinched. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He walked stiffly to the door without a backward glance at Mike and shut the door after him.
Mike stared at the wooden door, the bile rising in his throat. He swallowed, fighting to compose himself.
Well, that could’ve been handled better.
He dropped down onto the mattress and lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling. He’d had no idea just how much Jack’s decision had affected him. Little by little his anger dissipated, leaving him with an ache in his chest and a heaviness in his limbs.
I overreacted, plain and simple. Jack didn’t deserve that much venom, not after all their years together.
What the fuck came over me? Maybe it was a good thing he and Jack weren’t shooting a scene together.
Then it occurred to him that he hadn’t exactly been quiet.
The others would’ve heard everything. Talk about awkward.
He sat up and picked up the script from beside him.
Not that he was in any mood to read it, but it was something to focus on.
Anything to stop seeing Jack’s ashen face in his head.
He stared at the script, trying to take it all in, but the words just danced on the page, making no sense at all.
When the call came for dinner, he abandoned the sheaf of papers with a sigh and got up from the bed.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face and then dried it.
He gazed at his reflection in the cool light above the washbasin, not in the least bit hungry.
With a sigh he straightened, flicked off the light, and headed down the hall into the brightly lit kitchen.
Dinner was… uncomfortable. Jack was silent, picking at the lasagna Nico had prepared.
The two young men kept glancing at each other, their foreheads furrowed, faces unsmiling.
Pete tried to make conversation but gave up after his jokes and funny stories fell on stony ground.
It was a relief when the meal ended and everyone disappeared into their rooms for the rest of the evening, with the exception of Jesse and Kyler, who went outside to shoot some hoops, the yard lit by an outdoor light.
Nico collected the plates and the leftover lasagna, clearly unhappy.
Mike retreated to his room and spent an hour or so rereading the script.
He knew from the last shoot with this studio that the emphasis would be on the reactions of the actors to each other, their emotions and expressions, rather than focusing the camera on what went where.
He hardly noticed the passage of time. When he was ready to call it a day, he waited his turn for the bathroom he shared with Nico to be empty, and then Mike slipped in for a wash before bed.
His shower would wait until the morning, when he would go through his pre-shoot routines.
Once back in the bedroom, he slid under the blankets and switched off the light.
Little noise intruded from the outside world.
Mike closed his eyes and worked on switching off his brain, but Jack was there, that white-faced stare, the pain in those brown eyes.
Let it go, he told himself. Just… let it go.
He turned his thoughts to Tommy. Damn, but it felt like he was a million miles away right then.
Mike comforted himself with the anticipation of seeing his young lover the following night, even if it would only be via Skype.
It was better than nothing. He’d hear that lovely Georgian drawl, see that sweet face.
It wasn’t long before Mike was drifting off to sleep, warm and cozy… .
Only to awaken when the blankets lifted and a smooth, naked male form pressed up against him—an unmistakably horny male.