Art House

by Charley Descoteaux

  Bran raised an eyebrow, and a surprised laugh squeezed out of Chase before he could stop it. He was aware of Garrett moving away from him and toward Jess, but the tension he’d felt a moment ago—and that had been coming from Garrett in waves—had dropped from his limbs in the time it took him to laugh. Chase was glad for it, even if he felt a little too happy. Giddy? Is that what I’m feeling now?

  “Sorry. You just did that eyebrow-thing Kyle does. You guys are picking up each other’s habits. It’s cute.”

  After giving him a fake scowl, Bran drove into the parking garage. Chase turned to find Jess and Garrett parting from a hug. She didn’t give him any time to get weird about it before pulling him into her arms.

  “You weren’t expecting me. What happened to that whole talking thing?” Jess released Chase and frowned at him. He wasn’t sure how much of it was real and how much for show so was relieved when she turned it on Garrett. “Why wasn’t he expecting me?”

  “Because I got busy and forgot.” Garrett made a face at Jess and then turned to Chase. In the fraction of a second before their eyes met, Garrett’s face softened into a smile. A charming-as-hell smile. “Jess is going to help with the heavy lifting in exchange for a long weekend at the beach.”

  “Sounds good to me. The heavy lifting is my least favorite part of this whole endeavor.” Chase headed for the door, but not before he saw Jess playfully punching Garrett’s arm. His ow wasn’t loud and it wasn’t real either.

  KYLE ARRIVED just as they put the last box into the U-Haul. Only a small truck, it was almost completely filled. Chase had never guessed Kyle was such a pack rat until he got a look inside the closet in his room, filled with boxes and a couple of small pieces of furniture that appeared to be handmade.

  It’s a miracle all of his clothes aren’t permanently wrinkled. Unless he’s just that good at folding….

  After a short argument between Garrett and Jess over who would drive the U-Haul, they left the garage and fell in behind Bran’s car. Chase hated to admit it, but he was relieved not to even have been in the running to drive the truck the three hours to Lincoln City. He’d never enjoyed driving and was content to sit on Garrett’s right side while Jess drove on his left. Chase spent most of the drive watching the scenery and listening to them talk. Garrett had spent the past few days working on something he didn’t want to share yet and jumping Chase every afternoon for some hard-and-fast sex—noticeably lacking in penetration—but as Jess had pointed out, they’d done little talking.

  Chase still hadn’t figured out how he felt about that by the time he saw the Welcome to Lincoln City sign. Garrett snaked the hand that had been resting on Chase’s thigh around and underneath, pulling his leg closer as he leaned against his side. When he squeezed gently, Chase turned to see a little unease in his smoky hazel eyes. It disappeared as soon as he smiled.

  “You’ve been quiet.” Garrett didn’t make that sound like a question, but Chase heard one just the same.

  “Thinking about a project and watching the world go by.”

  Jess stopped the truck at a light and looked at Chase over Garrett’s head. “You know where the house is? Bran lost me.”

  Chase turned to look out the windshield and felt a little startled not to have noticed. He pulled out his phone and opened the GPS app, and a few minutes later they’d begun to unload the truck. Thankfully, unloading took far less time than loading had; they put everything in an empty bedroom for Kyle and Bran to deal with later.

  He was standing on the back porch with a beer, staring out at the work-in-progress garden and trying not to think about anything in particular, when Jess joined him, clapping him on the shoulder as she came. Like you would do to a horse so he wouldn’t kick you in surprise.

  “Today’s not so easy for you,” she said.

  When he glanced her way, Jess took a long drink from her beer.

  Chase shrugged. “I guess.”

  “You’re close with Kyle?”

  “I’ll miss him at the condo. And Bran.”

  “They’re pretty adorable together.”

  “Yeah.” Chase fought the urge to sigh or to go look for Garrett. If they were staying for the whole long weekend—and he assumed they were—he had plenty of time to be adorable with Garrett once they reached the camp.

  “You guys really didn’t talk about this weekend. Like, at all, did you?”

  “Garrett’s been busy on a new secret project.”

  “If you’d rather I went back to town today—”

  “No.” Chase turned to face Jess. “Don’t think I’m all moody because of you. I’m glad you’re here. If you can spare the time, you should stay.”

  “Yeah. They’ve been cutting my hours at work, so I have plenty of time.” She grinned bitterly and turned back to face the garden as she took another pull of her beer.

  “Where do you work?”

  “In a warehouse in Milwaukie. It’s so glamorous, driving a forklift, loading frozen food onto trucks.” She turned her face up to look at the sky, smiled, and drained the last of her beer. “But it keeps me under a roof and flush in beer and edibles, so I’m good.”

  They stood in silence for a few seconds, watching a small group of trees in the far corner of the backyard as their leaves waved in the breeze. Chase felt awkward around Jess, maybe for obvious reasons. He didn’t like it but couldn’t figure out how to push past it either.

  Jess sighed. “I’ll be glad when you loosen up a little. Maybe when we get to Buchanan House I’ll share a little something to take the edge off.”

  Chase assumed she meant edibles, but before he could answer, the sliding glass door opened behind them.

  “Looks like we’re done here.” Garrett sounded upbeat, like he was looking forward to going to Buchanan House, and that made Chase smile.

  Maybe this weekend will be good for us. We can put an end to the whole not-talking thing.

  After a round of hugs, they took off in separate vehicles—Jess drove the U-Haul, and Garrett followed, driving them all to the camp in Bran’s car once they had returned the truck. The parking lot at the camp was almost empty except for a row of vans parked in the spaces nearest the main building, but Garrett still parked in the last row. They pulled their bags from the trunk and crunched across the gravel.

  “The lot is empty for a Thursday. What’s going on?” Chase couldn’t ignore a tickle of nervousness at the prospect of being the focus of some kind of family intervention. He couldn’t figure out what that would be about, but it still seemed too likely for comfort.

  They reached the open front doors, and Nathan swept out to meet them. When he grabbed Chase into a hug first and kissed both of his cheeks, his suspicion grew.

  Nathan Lucas was the hugging type—all the time and with everyone—which was why nobody in their family had batted an eye when he and Eric bought Buchanan House. So why am I reading so much into his “hostess with the mostest” mode?

  “So good to see you guys. And who is this lovely creature?” Nathan looked Jess over and smiled. If Nathan wasn’t married—and gay—Chase might have thought he was about to try and make a move on her.

  Garrett chuckled softly, or maybe he giggled. “This is Jess. Jess, Nathan.”

  “Yep, I would have known you blindfolded. Nice to meet you, Nathan.” They embraced like long-lost friends, and for a moment Chase wondered if they’d met before. The hug went on longer than he expected, but he was a little surprised when Garrett spoke.

  “The parking lot is almost empty. What’s going on this weekend?”

  Is he feeling the same foreboding I am?

  Nathan released Jess from his embrace, and after a slightly lingering—appraising?—look, he swung his attention toward Garrett. “The camp is closed for the next ten days. For filming.” Nathan leaned in and kissed Garrett’s cheek. “But not to worry. Room eight is always open for you, sweetie.”

  Before anyone could ask, the rest of their family poured out from the direction of the dining r
oom. After the requisite greetings, hugs, and introductions, Garrett asked what Nathan had meant by filming.

  “The St. Clouds are making another movie here. Where are they?” Nathan looked around, and Chase went back to worrying about an intervention.

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” Garrett asked.

  Jess pushed his shoulder. “Because they made that movie This Pretty Life. You remember—”

  “Oh my God, I loved that movie.” Garrett turned to look where Nathan was looking for a second. His cheeks turned a little pink, and he took Chase’s hand while he spoke to Nathan. “I cried like a little girl at the end of that movie—ow. Jess!” He barely took a second to react to her punching his shoulder before asking Nathan, slightly breathlessly, “They’re really here?”

  “Yes, they’re—here they are. Shane and Sean St. Cloud, come and meet a few more members of our Portland family: Chase, Garrett, and Jess.”

  Hellos and handshakes went around the loose circle, and when they were done, the man in the wheelchair was looking at Garrett like he was on a sushi-go-round and the man hadn’t eaten in days. “Are these the guys you were talking about, Nathan? The artists?”

  “Yes, darling. I thought we’d let them get settled before springing that on them.”

  Relief washed through Chase’s body at the exchange. Anything related to art had to be better than what he had been thinking. He said, “No need to wait,” at the same time Garrett said, “We can get settled later.”

  Jess and Nathan both gave them fond looks, and Eric suggested they take the conversation into the art room. That name for it hurt a tiny place inside Chase, but he would never say so. He had been invited to bring some work out the previous year, and one painting still hung in the dining room, so he couldn’t figure out why he would feel that way.

  They all settled on the couches, and Eric excused himself to go get refreshments. Chase sat at the end of the couch facing the fireplace, with Garrett, Jess, and then Nathan filling the rest of the cushions. Derek, Alex, and Paulie shared another couch, and the St. Clouds took positions in front of the fireplace, directly across from Garrett. Chase bristled at how much attention they seemed to be focusing on Garrett, but he didn’t really think it was a problem. Just my weird mood.

  That thought didn’t keep him from stretching an arm across the back of the couch, placing his hand close enough to Garrett’s hair to tangle his fingers in it. It was a struggle to keep the emotion off his face when Garrett sat forward—literally on the edge of his seat—to ask the St. Clouds, “What’s the new movie about?”

  The man in the wheelchair, Shane, smiled, obviously pleased, and he and his partner shared a quick look before he spoke. “It’s almost too bad we’re not looking to cast another part.”

  Garrett smiled but didn’t blush. “I’m not an actor, but thanks.”

  “No.” Chase jumped in and then felt self-conscious about why. “He’s an amazing artist, though.”

  Garrett reached out and rested a hand on Chase’s knee for a second but didn’t pull his attention from the filmmakers. Eric returned with Tim and a tray of what looked like little bread balls and smelled like garlic and other delicious spices, along with a pitcher of something pink that Chase hoped was alcoholic. Tim poured a glass for everyone except the filmmakers and joined Eric on the couch. If the pink drink did have a kick, it wasn’t much of one.

  “The main character of this story is a bisexual man who loses his lover. A woman in the support group he joins—who also happens to be bi—helps him heal and they—”

  “No, don’t tell me the end.” Garrett looked like he might cry just thinking about it.

  Shane winked, maybe at Nathan, and then turned toward Eric. “I’m guessing he’s the one you had in mind to do the posters?”

  “Um, actually I thought of Chase.” Paulie shifted in his seat and smiled apologetically at Chase.

  Garrett didn’t miss a beat. “Good thought. He can capture the feeling of the film while keeping in style with your previous posters. I’m surprised you’re going with a new artist for this one. The designer you’ve been working with is good.”

  Shane looked stunned for a second or two. “Thanks. Uh… that designer isn’t available anymore.” Shane glanced up at Sean. “We were happy with the style, but since this film is so different from the rest of our body of work, maybe a different style would be a clue. So we don’t have to give away the farm in the trailers.”

  Sean finished his thought. “And maybe save ourselves an unpleasant review or two.”

  Chase watched the conversation like a tennis match and had no clue what it meant. Obviously Garrett didn’t have that problem. His expression said he thought he knew the ending and it was a happy surprise.

  “We have an idea of what we want, but it’s loose, open to interpretation.” They shared another look, and Shane nodded. “If you’re both interested, we’d love to see what you come up with. We have a script you can read and a few scenes coming up you could watch in rehearsal.”

  Chase had practically chugged his pink drink and waited for it to kick in. It hadn’t, so he had no trouble feeling the tension building around him. Or maybe it was all coming from him. Just what I need, to be in competition with the best artist I’ve ever met. “Don’t movie posters usually include a still from the movie?”

  “Not necessarily. That’s part of the departure we want… from our previous posters.”

  Nathan scooted forward and turned his body toward Garrett and Chase. “Nothing has to be decided right now, though. Not even this weekend, right, Shane?”

  “Right.” Shane seemed confused but didn’t say anything when Nathan swept Chase and Garrett up—not quite literally, but it was close—and took them upstairs.

  Nathan kept up a continual stream of chatter, as usual. Chase loved him, but at that moment he was uncomfortable enough he wished for quiet. “Jess, we can put you in seven. Unfortunately it will be right next door to these chatterboxes, but we also have earplugs if you need them.” Nathan winked at Jess and shot a concerned look past her. Chase wanted to think it was aimed toward Garrett but knew it was meant for him.

  Garrett seemed preoccupied as they left Jess and Nathan in room seven and went into room eight. Probably working on the movie poster already. They changed—Chase into swim trunks and a matching ocean-blue button-down shirt that he only wore to hold a pair of sunglasses; Garrett pulled on a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt to protect his fair skin from the sun—and headed out onto the beach. Again, without discussing it or anything else.

  ERIC HAD put some Firecrackers—finally, some alcohol!—and food into a picnic basket and gently suggested Chase and Garrett go beyond the backyard for a few hours. Jess went out with them but disappeared after about an hour. Even though they had taken a beach umbrella, when they returned to the house, Garrett’s nose, forehead, and shoulders were pink. He hadn’t stopped smiling once, though, and couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, so Chase didn’t think the sunburn hurt—hopefully it wouldn’t later either. For his part, Chase had hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses he’d found in a basket in the room and focused his attention on the Firecrackers, food, and the ocean. The tide had been coming in, and the combination of a shorter stretch of beach and the later hour combined to increase the number of people passing near their little patch of sand. Garrett had never been self-conscious about public displays, but Chase still had trouble in certain situations.

  Most situations outside of a gay bar.

  It wasn’t easy to set aside half a lifetime of hiding, but he made a decent show of it for Garrett’s sake. Chase had been out from the day he turned eighteen and left his father’s house, but not as aggressively as the guys he knew who were Garrett’s age or younger. The guys who had grown up with a GSA and antibullying campaigns in their schools and representation on television and mainstream movies. Such as it was.

  And Chase’s father had known for two years by then—him and everyone else in the sm
all town where Chase grew up. But Chase never thought about any of that if he could help it.

  Conversation had stopped when Jess left, so Garrett startled when Chase suggested they go up to the room. “If you want to.” He looked at Garrett over the top of his sunglasses, feeling decadently lazy and horny enough to fuck all afternoon.

  “Let’s” was Garrett’s only answer. He practically leaped off the blanket they shared and started packing up.

  They left the umbrella and picnic basket in the lobby and raced upstairs. Well, Garrett raced, and Chase followed.

  Garrett turned in the doorway to room eight and gripped the doorknob, his arm draped across the open space. “If you don’t want me to do the poster….”

  “That’s crazy.” Chase slowed his approach, hoping Garrett would move before he reached the threshold. “Do it if you want to.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  Chase tried to slip past him into the room, but Garrett held his ground. “Nothing’s bothering me except that we’re still dressed.” Chase grinned, but his heart didn’t feel like it was on board.

  Garrett reached out to take the sunglasses off Chase’s face, but when Chase tried to pass him again, he let him. Sunglasses and all.

  He knows I’m lying, that I don’t want to be in competition with him because I’ll lose.

  Chase went straight through the room and into the bathroom. When he came out a few minutes later, Garrett looked like he had been prepared to continue the “what’s bothering you” conversation, or maybe like he’d been upset himself. But one look at Chase’s nude body and he visibly relaxed.

  “You’re still dressed.”

  “You just left me standing in the doorway. I didn’t—”

  “Too many Firecrackers.” Chase grinned and said a silent thanks that it felt real. He left a very careful kiss on Garrett’s poor sunburned nose. Garrett had shucked his shirt almost as soon as they reached the beach, which Chase had appreciated at the time, but that hadn’t protected him from the sun. Chase kissed Garrett’s shoulders and started working his way down. “You’re burned.”