by R. Cayden
Gray tossed Jameson the wolf sweatshirt, then a pair of heavy sweatpants. “Surprises at four in the morning are the best,” he said. “Now come on.”
Jameson pulled the clothes on, but as soon as he was dressed, Gray was out the door. After feeling like Gray was somehow distant for the last day, all of a sudden, Jameson didn’t mind chasing after his boyfriend. Gray was going to keep dragging him on adventures, he realized with a smile, even now that their joyride was finally over.
Downstairs, Gray had a paper bag hanging from one hand. He was dressed in an outfit like Jameson’s, with heavy sweatpants and a zipped hoodie, and he bounced with an excited energy.
“Don’t tell me we’re getting back in the car?” Jameson asked. It felt so good to be a part of Gray’s family; he wasn’t sure he could handle leaving right then.
Gray took his hand, then led him toward the exit. “Nope. Our destination is just around the corner.”
Outside, the entire world was still, like someone had frozen on a single frame. The moon was low in the sky, but bright enough that it cast a gentle light over the street, the old brick buildings, and the trees that dotted the sidewalk. The smell of salt was in the air, and when Gray started right down the street, Jameson realized where they must be going.
“The beach?” he asked, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand as he kept pace. “I didn’t even grab my scarf.”
Gray reached into the paper bag, then pulled out the scarf. “I have it, if we run into anyone. But look at this. It’s too dark to make out anything more than a few feet away, and Declan promised me there’s never anyone out until sunrise.”
Turning his gaze down the street, Jameson saw that Gray was right. He could see where he was going, but even with the occasional streetlight, everything was hazy and hard to make out. It was like in his dream, in fact, but instead of running into nosy strangers, he and Gray just sailed on through.
“I haven’t been to the beach since I was a kid.”
“Me either, until my uncle moved out here. You’re going to love this one.”
The air was chilly to start with, and as they approached the water, Jameson leaned in a little closer to Gray’s warmth. In the distance, he couldn’t see where the ocean ended and the sky began. It just looked like the stars were everywhere, and the long stretch of sand they started crossing practically sparkled.
“Maybe I could buy us a big ship,” Jameson said. “I’ll have my press conference, and then we can just sail away for the rest of our lives.”
Gray pulled Jameson under his arm, and Jameson leaned into his strength as the sand shifted under his feet with each step. “I could get into boats,” he said. “If you let me drive. Or steer. Whatever you do in a boat.”
“I mean, I’ll steer sometimes,” Jameson joked. “Don’t think I’m just going to sit there and compliment you while you take care of me.”
“Jameson,” Gray laughed, his voice deep in his chest, “that’s not a lesson I need to learn. You’re not one to sit back and let other people take control. Even when you were in Hollywood, you were always the one steering your career. Or driving it. Whatever.”
Jameson purred softly. It was true. Even though he felt swept along by forces he couldn’t control half the time, Jameson always fought to stay in control and carve out something that he could live with. He was glad that Gray could see that in him and recognize that he had never given up.
He’d just had to protect himself until someone else came along, someone he could truly trust.
They kept walking, leaning together, and then Gray sighed.
“I have to tell you something,” he said. They reached the water, which was lazily lapping the shore, and stopped together. “If you want to go on a boat, I’ll sail that thing anywhere you want to go. I’ll take you to every corner of this planet. But I can’t be gone from New York forever. I have my mom nearby, and my uncle and Seb, and I can’t just leave Horatio and Raiden like that.”
Gray’s voice was tight, and it hurt Jameson’s heart a little to realize how worried he was. He wrapped his hands around Gray’s wrist and rubbed his thumb over the tender spot on the inside of his arm, where his pulse lived. The moon had cast a shadow over his face, but Jameson could still see the whites of his dark eye.
“Gray, of course,” he said. “I understand that.” Jameson could feel his cheeks turning pink. He knew what kind of man Gray was, and he knew how important his family was to him. He’d never run away from the people he cared about, and Jameson wouldn’t want him to.
If anything, he just wanted to run toward them.
“But I figured it out,” Gray said, his voice speeding up. “I talked to Declan, and I think I can convince Raiden to take a job with Kaiser Security. If they’re looking out for each other, I can still run away with you for a while.” He rubbed the back of his head, and Jameson realized that his voice was pinched tight. “I know it’s not the same thing as forever. It’s not a castle in the mountains or a beach hut in paradise or anything romantic like that.”
Jameson’s smile widened, and he pulled Gray into a kiss. “It’s more romantic,” he said. “Trust me.”
Gray pulled his lips away, and in the moonlight, Jameson saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “And I just want you to know,” he continued, “I’m not going to run any more jobs, either. I’m done playing hotshot and taking stupid risks.” His voice finally cracked, and when Jameson realized that Gray was crying, he started crying, too. “I might not be good enough for you, Jameson, but I love you. And I swear to god, I’m going to earn your love, too.”
Jameson’s heart pounded with pleasure, and he lost his words for a moment. They started kissing and stumbling slowly toward the water. Jameson wanted to put his hands on every part of Gray’s body, to lick and taste every inch of his boyfriend’s skin. He wanted to show him that he was there, that he was staying.
“You are good enough for me, Gray. You’re perfect for me. And it’s not just up to you to take care of me. We’re going to take care of each other, okay?” He started kissing Gray on his cheeks, trying to kiss away his tears. “I love you so much, Gray. And I love your family, too. I would never want to keep you away from them.” Saying the words felt like casting a spell or like naming something that had always been there. “I love you, Gray.”
Gray pressed his mouth close to Jameson’s. “I love you,” he breathed back, his voice steadying again. “And I don’t just want to come back to visit my family alone,” he said. “I want you to be with me. Always.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Jameson said. He pulled his lips back, wiped his tears, and took in a deep breath. Whatever wall had risen up between the two of them at the gas station finally crumbled. They loved each other, and nothing was stronger than that.
Then, as Jameson watched, Gray hopped on one foot, then started tugging his socks off.
“Gray, what are you doing? That water must be freezing.”
“It’s not like I’m going swimming,” he said, then laughed and shook his head quickly, shaking away the last tears. “But you can’t come to the beach without stepping in the ocean. Now come on, kick off your shoes and roll up your sweatpants. I got some towels in the bag so you can dry off after.”
Jameson looked down and resigned himself to having very cold feet. “Does this all mean that a boat is actually on the table? Because six months of sailing sounds just about perfect.”
“Let’s see how your press conference goes first. And I’m not going to lie—it wouldn’t hurt if I worked a couple quick gigs for my uncle and put a little change in my pocket.”
The sand was cold and soft under Jameson’s feet, and he wiggled and stretched his toes before taking Gray’s hand again and stepping forward. “Gray, you mentioned that before. Do you understand how much money I have? I’m not saying you should go on vacation for the rest of your life, but you definitely don’t need to save up.”
They stopped at the edge of the water, the rushing sound of the waves loud in the night
air. “That’s really generous,” Gray said. “And thank you. But I don’t want to assume anything, you know? We just started calling ourselves boyfriends the other night, and we haven’t even really talked about what that means.”
A big wave came forward and splashed ice-cold water at their feet. Gray and Jameson both jumped, and the chill shot up Jameson’s leg. Before he could even stop hopping back and forth, Gray grabbed him by the side, then pulled them each a few steps forward, splashing into the cold.
“Oh my fucking god!” Jameson yelped. The water was like little knives pricking his feet, and without thinking, he jumped in the air, throwing himself around Gray’s shoulders and midsection.
“Ohhhhh fuck!” Gray grunted. He wobbled back and forth, splashing in the shallow water as he tried to steady Jameson. They wavered to one side, then stumbled to the other, and Jameson screamed a hysterical laugh while the water splashed his butt.
With two firm stomps, Gray finally steadied himself. Jameson was curled up in his arms, and with one leg dangling awkwardly to the side, his foot traced the cold water.
Jameson gazed up. The night sky was behind Gray, and his eyes looked bright and alive as he smiled down.
“I love you,” Jameson said.
“I’m in love with you, beautiful.”
They started to kiss, and Jameson whimpered into the scratchy heat of Gray’s beard. When he bit down on Gray’s lip, Gray released his legs, and Jameson splashed into the water with another laugh. His feet instantly ached from the cold, but he kept kissing Gray, hungry for his satisfaction while he wiggled their toes together.
“Okay!” Jameson yelped quietly, then grabbed Gray’s hand and jump-stepped to shore. “Enough cold!”
Gray grabbed the towels, and he squatted down to dry and warm Jameson’s feet first. The terrycloth was soft, and Jameson let out a slow, long breath as he felt the comfort of Gray’s touch.
“Let’s get you back to bed.” Gray rose to his feet, then tossed the towel over his shoulder. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow with your publicist. Declan will smack me upside the head if he knows I kept you up at the beach.”
Jameson nodded, and they started to wander back across the sand. In the distance, headlights crossed a street, and a few birds called overhead. “I could definitely use a few more hours. But I might reschedule things with my publicist.”
“Yeah?”
Jameson tightened his brow as he thought about it. When he was younger, long before he’d totally given up on show business, Jameson used to fantasize about the ways he might come out. He’d thought about it so much, in fact, that he’d planned it down to every little detail, from the shirt he would wear to the way he would present his imagined boyfriend.
It was like anything in his career. Jameson could play Hollywood like a fiddle. He could practically write the headlines himself, when he took the time to. And even if he hated using those skills, Jameson still knew the Justin Sweet machine was a powerful tool.
And maybe, with the help of Gray and his family, there would be a way to use that machine to his advantage. With just a little planning, in fact, Jameson realized that there was a way to take control of the story in the tabloids—and secure some real privacy for him and Gray, too.
“Gray,” he said, one sock on as he stood awkwardly on his shoe, the other dangling from his hand. “I think we’re going to need a little more than a press conference.”
Gray
Down the long, glitzy hallway, Gray kept a solid five feet behind Jameson at all times. He’d even practiced back at his uncle’s place, making Jameson walk around in front of him while they held opposite ends of a five-foot length of string.
He was just a bodyguard that evening. And in a plain black suit, his job was to disappear into the background and maybe look intimidating every now and then.
The idea had seemed weird at first, that he wouldn’t be able to touch Jameson or even catch his eye with a smile. Risking anything meant risking the whole plan, and Gray had trained himself for a solid week to go in and out of work mode, laser focused on what needed to get done.
Luckily, he had the best coach possible in Jameson, an actual professional at pretending to be someone else. And now that they were backstage at New Nightly, making their way from makeup to the preshow lounge room, it felt almost easy.
Jameson and Gray weren’t even there, not really. They were one hundred percent undercover, so that Justin Sweet and his bodyguard could take care of some business.
“Justin! Sweetheart! When I got your message, I nearly had a heart attack! Come here and give me a hug.”
Even though Gray didn’t give a damn about some high school television show, he recognized Cynthia Newsom. Of course, it didn’t hurt either that he’d spent some serious time on Google reminding himself who Justin Sweet was, back when Declan had first offered him the security job. And when you googled Justin Sweet, Cynthia Newsom’s bright, shining face always came up, too.
“You know it’s a special occasion if I’m asking to come on a show,” Jameson joked. He was using his old Justin Sweet voice, which he held steady and even at a low register, and posing his whole body differently, everything rearranged. “Do you have any questions before we go on?”
“I think my team has everything lined up,” she answered, then smiled widely and kissed him on the cheek. “And congratulations,” she whispered, slapping him playfully on the chest. “Does this mean you might be sticking your head back in the business, too?”
Jameson laughed. “Absolutely not. You’ll still have all my exclusives.”
She winked, then glanced at her phone. “Shit. Gotta run. We’ll have a drink after the show, okay? It will be fun. I’ll order everyone else to go away. They’ll hate it!”
Jameson laughed. “It’s a plan!” he called after her.
Gray followed through the backstage area until they reached a big green door with a star on the front sporting Jameson’s acting name. He nodded to Gray to follow him inside, where a couple of couches, a fridge, and a makeup station were clustered stylishly across a circular room.
“There are a few security cameras in this room,” Jameson said, shutting the door behind him. “But they can’t hear what we say.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay. I’m not too nervous or anything.” He found a soda water from the fridge and kept his eyes away from Gray. “I just don’t want to think about it too much. You should enjoy yourself, though! I know it’s fun to be backstage at this kind of thing. Don’t feel bad about taking it all in.”
Gray held his expression still. “You know I don’t care about this shit. Plus, I think that you just told me that you need a distraction.” He wiggled his eyebrows, then held Jameson’s eye for a second. “Now that sounds fun.”
Jameson laughed as he sat on one of the couches. “Trust me, seeing you in a suit is distracting enough. I’ve never even come close to breaking the Justin Sweet act out in public, but when you straightened your jacket earlier and smiled to Cynthia, my tongue almost fell out of my mouth.”
Gray straightened his jacket. “Well, Jameson. I’ve got good news for you. I fully intend to keep this suit on after the show.”
Jameson took another sip from his soda. “After the show?”
“Back in the hotel. While I watch you undress for me.”
Jameson choked on his soda. “Gray! You’re going to make me smile too much. I’ll break character!”
Gray chuckled. “Does that mean stop or keep going?”
From his spot by the door, Gray noticed the way Jameson took his lip between his teeth. For the most fleeting second, he bit down and flashed his wide eyes to Gray.
A jolt of desire went straight to Gray’s core, and then an angry buzzer went off above them, shattering the silence. Gray’s heart jumped into his throat. He and Jameson both laughed. The door popped open behind him, and a man with a clipboard stuck his head in. “Justin Sweet, we’re ready for you.”
Jameson stood, then glanced in the mirror. Gray watched as he straightened the blue denim shirt he was wearing, which was fitted perfectly, then smoothly ran his hand along the edge of his styled hair. “A big day for Justin Sweet,” he said into the mirror, then crossed over to Gray. “Enjoy the show.”
The second Jameson stepped outside, Gray grabbed the remote from the table and turned up the volume on the mounted television. The broadcast showed the famous silver couch where Cynthia welcomed all her guests, and while the band wailed away, the camera swooped to Jameson, who offered the crowd a broad smile.
Gray grabbed himself a soda from the fridge, then took a seat on the couch. He knew that Jameson did this kind of thing professionally, but still, his gut twisted, seeing him exposed to the cameras like that after all they’d done to fight the media off.
“Justin Sweet!” Cynthia said, squeezing him one more time before they took their seats. “And what’s new with you? Just a quiet spring?”
The crowd erupted in laughter, and Jameson chuckled along, keeping his good nature. “I heard I was on the news the other day,” Jameson joked. “Was it something special?”
“In all seriousness, I haven’t seen people get a Sweet Tooth like that since our prom episode. You were on every single tabloid!”
“I heard!” Jameson smiled. “And I’m so sorry if I had any of my fans worried. That’s why I wanted to come out here and clear some things up. And Cynthia, thank you, because there’s no one else I would trust to handle this story.”
Cynthia and Jameson took each other’s hand with a smile, and through the thin wall, Gray could hear the audience’s approval. “Now this sounds like it’s going to be quite a story,” Cynthia said. “Promise me you don’t end up kidnapped at the end!”
“Or the beginning or the middle,” Jameson promised. The audience laughed, and he turned slightly, better facing the camera. “As you know, I’ve always had a problem with overzealous paparazzi. It’s something I’ve come to live with, but recently, it’s gotten out of hand, with people breaking into my home.”
