Just Like Heaven

by T L Bradford

  Gemma says, “You need to relax. You’re making a way bigger deal out of this than need be.” She’s picking around her Cobb salad and trying her best to bring me back from the ledge.

  “I’m trying okay? It’s just so, I don’t know, unnatural for me.”

  “I don’t see why? You guys were always comfortable and affectionate around each other before. What changed?” She looks up through her lashes, raising a single eyebrow at me with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

  “It just is.” I refuse to be baited by her.

  “So then… is the issue that you’re afraid you won’t be able to act it out? Or is it because you’re afraid that you can?”

  “What are you implying, Gemma?” I ask, knowing full well what she is talking about.

  “I’m saying, I love you very much, you know that. I only want the best for you. It’s been a long time with just the two of us. We’re both reaching points in our lives where things are changing. But I think it’s changing for the better. We’re finally moving on.” She makes it sound like she’s eloping next week for goodness sake. “I’ve found love, and it’s the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. Noah, you too, deserve to have that kind of love.” I go stock still. “No matter who that person is.”

  She stops fiddling with her salad and pushes it to the side. Then she leans in on the table and takes both of my hands in hers. “The reason I broke things off with you is that I could never love you the way you needed to be loved.” She grips more tightly. “You will only be happy once you admit to yourself who you are. Sometimes love is right in front of your face and you can be the last person to see it. Noah, I know you are strong and stubborn. But, honey, if you wait too long, you may lose out on the best thing that has ever happened in your life.”

  To my chagrin, I feel the sting of tears beginning in the corners of my eyes. I am unable to respond to her for fear of my voice breaking and giving me away. Then she smiles when she sees my overwhelmed expression. “I think you and Josh would make a great couple.”

  I head back to the studio and prep in hair and makeup. I haven’t seen Josh in a few days so we have not run the lines as thoroughly as I would have liked. I go down to Set B and am glad that Josh has not arrived on set yet. I need to prepare mentally. We are on a locked down set, per my request. Only me, Josh, our Director Marty and the cameraman are on set.

  I start to wonder if Josh chickened out and decided he couldn’t go through with it when he walks onto the set. I am shaken by how stunning he looks. I’ve seen Josh in plenty of situations, but never quite like this. He looks like he just walked off the cover of GQ. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him now, even if I tried. They touched up his hair where it looks more honey blond. He has on blue jeans and a blue and white colored tank top. I feel my heart freeze and my mouth dry out. I am totally, completely, and utterly smitten.

  Josh walks right up to me and puts his bag down directly by my feet. I catch his smoky, woodsy scent that is uniquely Josh. He’s teasing me, getting unnecessarily close and blatantly looking me over. His goal is to unsettle me, and it’s working.

  We take our positions and begin the shoot. The past couple of weeks our shoots have been the slow reconciliation of the pair, but today is the culmination of that build-up. Max and Jace come back to Jace’s apartment and consummate their relationship.

  Jace grabs Max’s arm roughly and feels the tightly wound muscles in his arm. He feels up his chest and runs his hands over his abdomen then up under Max’s shirt. He throws him up against the wall and puts his leg between Max’s preventing him from moving or being able to protect himself. Jace wants him helpless. He pushes his body into Max and smells him. He intoxicates his senses. It’s like a damn drug. Slowly he licks his tongue up the side of his neck, up to his jawline all the way to his plush lips that are turning from pink to a deep blush as Max is engulfed in the fevered frenzy of Jace’s pursuit.

  Jace punishes Max’s mouth with brutal kisses; there is nothing sweet or gentle about his advances. Max is being held in place, forced to take the assault. He moves his hands down further, and tugs at Max’s belt then uses the belt to drag him over to the bed. With one hand, Jace shoves him on the bed onto his back with his palm.

  Max’s eyes open wide in surprise at the bold move. Then Jace hovers over him like a predator and takes his mouth forcefully again. He kisses down his torso and proceeds to unbutton his jeans and pull them off completely. Max goes to reach for Jace, but Jace stops him. Instead, he lays Max out flat on his back.

  I feel myself starting to go off script, losing control of my desire. Jace and I become one, lusting over Max/Josh.

  Jace then flips him over and moves on top of him, kissing a line down his spine to his ass. He moves back up and kisses the back of his neck and takes tiny bites on his nape. Jace grinds his pelvis into Max’s behind, making him groan out loud, then kneads his buttocks with his hands and slips a hand quickly between his cheeks, making him squirm with pleasure. Then he flips Max back over and grinds his rock-hard dick into Max’s.

  Max is squirming and writhing, craving Jace’s touch, needing more, wanting him. They both break out in a sweat, clawing and pawing each other like wild animals. Jace grabs the back of Max’s head and threads his hands through his hair and pulls it taut, then fists his hands through the honey strands and smashes his lips into his again.

  We are both out of control, licking, biting and feasting on one another, totally unaware that Marty called cut some time ago. We keep going at it, taking all the frustration of the past two months and setting it free on each other. I can’t stop, Josh is my crack, and I need my fix. My cock is fully engorged and ready to take him. If it weren’t for the fucking boxer briefs he has on, he would be mine right now.

  “Guys, we got the shot, guys!” Somewhere in the back of my hazy mind, I hear a voice yelling. “Noah, you have to stop. We can’t use this.” I’m a maniac, and lust has made me crazy with need. “Noah!” Marty yells. Josh is moaning loudly, and I’m harder than steel. I snap out of my spell when Marty shouts my name a second time. I look down at Josh and see his eyes rolled all the way back in his head.

  I don’t move from over the top of him because the evidence is clear. All 8 inches of it. Instead, I sit back on my legs with the sheet pulled across me and try to gather my breath. Josh’s eyes eventually open. He’s panting hard and looks spent. He says, “Still confused?”

  Chapter 27

  Noah

  Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and I am in an Uber on the way to my mom and stepfather’s house for the holiday. I always enjoy coming home. I pull up to their modest mid-century style split-level house and idle in the driveway. I give her a quick call to make sure she’s there (she’s not so great about details like showing up on time), then I take my bag out of the backseat.

  Helena Parker, my mother, comes running out the front door dressed in her typical colorful, free-flowing hippy garb. She throws her arms around my neck. She looks so much younger than her age with only a scant trace of wrinkles at the edges of her caramel-brown eyes and her small apple shaped face with delicate features. Her dark brown hair tumbles down her back in waves.

  “Sweetie! You’re here! I missed you so much,” she squeals. She’s batshit crazy, but God, I love my mother.

  “Missed you too, Mom.”

  We make our way inside the house, and I am hit with the smell of my mother’s home cooked meal. I know she made my favorite. She always does. “How was the flight baby? Did you fly first class?”

  “Mom, I told you, only pretentious losers fly first class. So… of course I did. Here are some honey roasted almonds.” I tease and toss the bag at her with a smile.

  “You stop that. You are the sweetest boy I know. I’ll take those almonds, though.”

  “Jacob! Jacob, get down here. Noah made it in!” She shouts upstairs. This is how they communicate. Jacob stays upstairs in the living room, watching sports and action movies all day, and my mom screams to get hi
s attention. Then he yells down his answer, sight unseen. This seems to work well for them, so who am I to complain.

  “He’ll be down in a minute. So, how was your trip? Are you hungry? I made your favorite, Mac & Cheese, Chicken Kiev and green beans.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “Yes, I do, and don’t you forget it.”

  We go into the kitchen, and I note how after all these years not a thing has changed. That’s one thing I love about coming back to my house, nothing ever changes. Time stands still. I guess that’s why I like it so much. It’s always familiar. She takes down three plates and begins setting the table for dinner.

  “I’ve been watching the show. You and that Max boy are cute together. See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

  “No, it turned out okay. I’m uh, glad I took the chance. The feedback has been amazing.”

  “I knew it would be baby. You’re a talented actor, that can’t be overlooked.”

  “You have to say that because you’re my mother.” I take the forks and knives out of the drawer and place them on the table.

  “No, people just better recognize, that’s all.” She has no irony in her voice whatsoever.

  “What the…are you going straight up gangsta now? Where did you pick that up? Have you been watching The Wire?”

  “I’m hip.”

  “No, you’re a hippy; there’s a big difference.”

  “My boy! How ya doing?” says Jacob, suddenly appearing in the doorframe.

  “Alright, old man,” I get up from the table to hug him.

  “Hey now, careful with the old man stuff. Consider yourself lucky if you make it as far as me.” He has a giant grin. Jacob Parker, my stepfather, is five foot ten of country boy goodness. He’s got a stocky build, kind green eyes and a thick head of salt and pepper hair.

  We grub on Mom’s dinner and talk about what’s been going on in our lives. Mom is still plugging away at her wax candle shop, and Jacob, now retired, spends his days listening to my mother talk about her wax candle shop.

  I give them their gifts from Kauai, and my mother is over the moon about the vintage silver ring I found her. And Jacob loves the aloha shirt I bought him. We spend the evening reminiscing over good times. I go to bed feeling much more settled than I have been over the last few days.

  After taping the Jace and Max scene, I went into seclusion. Marty brought me in his office immediately after the recording and promised me no one would see the first cut until only he edited it first. I thanked him profusely and apologized for losing control like that on the set. He said it was okay; we got enough footage for the show. He also said he and Rick, our cameraman, would keep our interaction to themselves so that nothing about us got out before we were ready to say something. I appreciated him doing this without needing to be asked.

  I haven’t talked to Josh since that day, and frankly, I’m embarrassed to do so. He baited me, and I took it and ran. He’s in Denver now with his family for the holidays, which is good timing. I couldn’t face him in person.

  I pick up my phone and consider sending him a text to clear up any lingering questions. I must type about 20 different responses and erase them before I finally come up with one. Happy Thanksgiving. Then I hit send and go to sleep. I am so lame.

  Early Thursday morning, Jacob and I continue our annual tradition of going fishing before our Thanksgiving feast. We go out on Elk Lake. The waters are still, and the only sounds are the ducks in the surrounding reeds. Eventually, Jacob breaks the silence.

  “Something about you has changed. You seem much more at peace.”

  “Is that your nice way of saying I pulled the stick out of my ass?” I grin at him.

  “That too.”

  “Yeah, I guess things are going okay.”

  “How’s Gemma? I was kind of hoping we would see her with you on this trip.”

  “She’s doing great. She probably won’t be making any more trips down here with me. She’s started seeing someone. I guess it’s pretty serious.”

  “Really? Wow. I’d always held out hope for you guys, but if it’s not meant to be, it’s just not meant to be, I guess. Is it anyone I would know?”

  “I’d love to tell you, but it’s not even anyone I know. She’s not talking about it.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s someone from the set. I don’t know why she won’t tell me. It’s not like I would get jealous and try the rip the asshole’s head off or anything like that.” I feel my temper starting to flare.

  “No, nothing like that.” He eyes me warily, not convinced at all that I wouldn’t do something like that. “See, that’s what I’m talking about; you’ve got so much more passion in you these days.”

  “What? That I have Hulk-outs?”

  “No, not quite. When you came here to live with us, you were so timid and shy. Damn boy, you feared your own shadow. I remember thinking that boy’s a turtle.”

  “A turtle?” I am cocking my eyebrow, not grasping what he’s talking about. “Yeah, a turtle, protected on the outside, vulnerable on the inside. You were so keyed up your mother and I worried about you for a long time. We even considered getting you some outside help.” This was news to me. “But over time, you seemed to work it out on your own, found your footing as it were. I think once you discovered your passion, that’s when you started to flourish.”

  “Acting was all I ever wanted to do. If I was somebody else, then I didn’t have to be myself.” With that, Jacob grows quiet and looks as though he wants to ask me deeper questions, then decides not to pry.

  “Your mom tells me that you’re now a featured player again on your show. That’s great son. I try to catch an episode now and then when I can.”

  “I didn’t know you’d been keeping up with the show.” I go for it and ask him. “Are you weirded out by the part I’m playing?”

  “No. I think it’s important that these types of stories get told. The world is changing. I see it as a chance for you to take a stand against hate and ignorance. You’re a great role model and are probably helping a lot of people out. I’m proud of you son.”

  I feel tears well behind my eyes but look away. I’ve never heard those words before. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Hand me the potato peeler, would you please?” my mom asks as I help her prep for dinner.

  “Here you go, ma.”

  “Is there something on your mind, Noah, you’re awfully quiet.”

  “I’m fine ma. Why?”

  “Everything went alright with your fishing trip this morning?”

  “Yeah, we didn’t catch anything, but we had a good talk.”

  “Is that what’s made you so thoughtful?”

  “Maybe, I’m trying to figure things out is all.” I hear my accent coming back. Screw it. I’m home. I’m not trying to impress anyone.

  “Are you happy?”

  I don’t know why this question takes me off guard, but it does. I’d checked my phone about 100 times since I woke up this morning and still no text back from Josh. I’m missing him and wondering what he is up to. Maybe I should call him? Would he even pick up? This is so grade school I can’t believe it.

  “I’m happy ma; why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know, you seem, well, lonely. Are you seeing anybody?” She continues peeling away on her potato.

  “No, ma.”

  “A handsome boy like you and you aren’t seeing anyone at all? What’s wrong with those women in LA? How’s Gemma? Are you guys still talking?”

  “Gemma’s seeing someone else now.”

  “Oh, well, sweetie, you just have to get yourself back on the market then.”

  “I’m not up to dating, besides with the show and all the other commitments, it’s impossible to have time for anyone else.”

  “It’s always important to make time for love baby. Maybe you can find it without having to change your lifestyle. Are you interested in anyone on the show? At least that way, you could have the same schedule.” />
  “No, ma, plus it’s not a great idea to date people from where you work.”

  “Okay.” She stops for a moment to finish peeling. “You know it doesn’t have to be a committed relationship. You could just get laid.”

  “Ma!”

  “You’re such a prude sweetie.”

  They invited a few of their friends over for Thanksgiving. One of the couples also has their 22-year-old daughter, Rachel, in tow. She spends the entire evening mooning over me from across the table. I’ve been set up. Later, mom asks me to run out and get some more ice which we don’t need, and Rachel offers to go with me, of course.

  She spends the entire ride asking me about the show, the cast and Hollywood life. I’m about ready to run us both into the highway railing when she asks me if I’m really gay because she saw the pictures posted from the leak. I give her my stock response, which is no I’m not, Jace is just a character I play on TV, but I fully support the LGBTQ community.

  When we return home, I park my mother’s car and bring down the garage door. Reaching into the backseat to get the ice, I am stopped by a hand on my chest. Rachel is trying to make her conquest. Me.

  She grabs my shirt in her tiny fist and pulls me toward her. Then she kisses me hard on the mouth. I am still recovering from her attack, when I see her pull up her skirt, lift her leg, then straddle me in the driver’s seat. This is no small task since the steering wheel is lodged right into her back. She grabs my head and begins kissing me, not allowing me to breathe.

  I try to push her off, but she is trapped behind the steering wheel. I feel her hands reach down to my zipper and try to pull me out. She’s having trouble in the tight space, so she keeps tugging the zipper up and down. I’m still trying to slide her off me, and I twist at the wrong time. It’s at the same time she’s tugging up on the zipper. I yowl in pain as my dick gets caught in the zipper teeth. I push her back so hard she hits the steering wheel setting off the horn and alarm system.