Improvise

by Iyana Jenna

  “Let it go.” With a start Tim suddenly realizes how close Brent is. He pulls back but Brent just traps him more tightly in his embrace. “It’s okay, Tim, just let me.”

  Tim goes limp and he lets out a shudder as he sobs quietly on Brent’s chest, soaking Brent’s shirt. The man murmurs softly, giving as much time as Tim needs, until he calms down. Brent smooths Tim’s head.

  “Are you all right?” Tim nods, a bit embarrassed. “Good.” Before Tim can say anything, Brent’s mouth has closed upon his, hesitantly at first but when Tim doesn’t resist, Brent gets bolder. He explores Tim’s lips with his tongue, seeking entrance, which Tim allows with a sigh. Brent’s lips are thinner than Sean’s, but they are just as soft. Brent’s tongue probes Tim’s mouth, and for a brief second Tim is thrust back in time. Uncomfortable memories. He gives a small whimper and shrinks away. Stunned, Brent yanks back, too, eyes widening, saliva clinging to his lips.

  “God, Tim. Is that—?”

  Tim won’t look at Brent. “I’m tired. Are you going to stay? You can sleep on the couch.” He steals a glimpse at Brent.

  Brent pauses and nods. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t,” Tim answers shortly and he turns away.

  * * * *

  Brent honestly thinks Tim should not be alone that night. Tim might never admit he’s not all right, but with everything he just went through, his mind can be a dangerous place. Brent also realizes how Tim compared his kiss with Sean’s.

  Brent arranges himself on Tim’s plush couch and looks around. Compared to his own apartment, this one is a palace. Brent likes the simplicity of the furniture, the black and silver color scheme, and the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall glass panel of the window looking out to the city skyline that flickers at night. Brent is enjoying the view, thinking he should stay awake the rest of the night. The next second he is already snoring.

  * * * *

  Brent moves fast. They have spent so much time on this case that they owe it to the tax payers to wind it up as quickly as they can. He contacts Dan to get a warrant from the local court and soon a unit of search experts have come down to Sean’s house, ready to turn every stone there if necessary.

  Brent no longer stays with Tim. Whatever excuses he gives to Tim or himself end up being just that—excuses—but he just wants to be with Tim at all times.

  Perhaps he’ll just ask Tim on a date.

  Today Dan comes to pick him up at home. His face is closed off and immediately Brent can see something is wrong.

  “What’s up?” he asks lightly, not wanting to upset him. Dan looks straight ahead as he drives, seemingly not to hear Brent’s greeting. “Uh—”

  Dan talks then. “The man you make googly eyes with, Tim, is a liar.”

  Brent regards that silently. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Dan doesn’t smile a bit. “You know how many days we’ve been conducting the search. Right, three days,” he goes on before Brent can answer. “And do you know if we’ve found the jewelry?” Again Dan rushes on. “No. Nothing. Zilch, nada. Do you know why?” This time Dan makes sure Brent gets everything crystal clear as he is practically yelling it to Brent’s face. “Because your boy is damn lying right through his teeth. He lied at the very beginning and he’s still lying right now.”

  “Christ, Dan, he was kidnapped and tortured. Do you think he was that strong that he could withhold information if he really knew the answer?”

  Dan shrugs. “He might be.”

  “Dan, he’s a civilian with no training in resisting interrogation and no combat background. He was a mess when we found him.”

  “He was lucky we got to him quickly. He didn’t have to pretend he was innocent any longer.”

  “He was not pretending!” Brent yells. The kiss, the fear, they were all just too real for someone to fake it. No, Brent won’t believe Dan’s words at all.

  “Have you been so blinded by his green eyes, kid?”

  “Don’t, Dan. And stop calling me kid. In fact, stop the car right now. I’ll get a cab.”

  “Brent—”

  “Stop the car.”

  “All right, all right.” He pulls over. “Brent, please think about this. We need to take Tim in again for—”

  Brent isn’t listening anymore. He slams the door shut and turns to go.

  * * * *

  There is a knock at the door and Tim arches his eyebrows as he checks the clock. It is eleven and only Brent usually comes at these weird hours.

  Tim is still worried about the necklace. Besides wanting to have the matter all over and done with already, he wants to be able to hand in the necklace for Brent’s sake. He owes it to Brent—and Dan—for rescuing him. His detective friend has looked worse for wear lately with those bags under his eyes.

  Tim opens the door only to stagger back as rough hands shove at him.

  “Hey!” he protests. “What the hell…Brent?”

  “Tim, you’ve got to listen to me. Listen up and tell me straight. Dan—” Brent clutches at Tim’s shoulders tightly.

  “What? What should I tell you? What’s Dan going to do?”

  But Brent looks totally out of it and the smell of his breath tells everything Tim needs to know.

  “You’re drunk. What happened? What’s wrong with you?” Tim is trying to twist away from Brent’s grip and steer the man to the couch but being much bigger and more obstinate, Brent is not easy to handle.

  “No. It’s you.” Brent moves his hands to clasp at Tim’s cheeks. “Dan’s going to get you.”

  “What? Why?”

  Brent’s eyes focus on him as he cradles Tim’s face. “I trust you, Tim, but he doesn’t believe—”

  Tim should have seen it coming. Dan has shown his aversion toward Tim since the first time they met.

  “He doesn’t believe I really didn’t know about the necklace,” he finishes Brent’s sentence. “Huh, like I don’t want to find it myself.” He pushes Brent to the couch and takes Brent’s hands off his face. “What’s his problem with me, huh?” Dan can’t be homophobic, seeing how close he is with Brent and it’s not like he doesn’t know Brent is gay. That leaves another, totally the opposite, possibility. “Sullivan, I think he likes you.”

  Brent huffs. “It’s not about me and you know that. Dan’s frustrated, too, with this case. Now he thinks you’re lying and he wants to take you in to interrogate you, strap you to a lie detector, and God knows what else.”

  “Do you think I’m lying?” Tim asks quietly.

  Brent stares at him and shakes his head. Tim puts his hand on Brent’s, watching how Brent’s gaze falls to it.

  “I swear to you I’m not lying. He can do anything to me but I still won’t be able to tell him anything. Trust me, Brent. The man just hates me. He likes you but instead of getting his hints, you flaunt in front of him how much you like me.”

  No one says anything for some time.

  “That’s impossible,” Brent says then. “He’s married.”

  Tim’s eyes widen as he takes in the information. He sighs. “All right then.”

  The clock ticks off, its sound reverberating in the quiet room. The drink gets the better of Brent and he begins to nod off.

  “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Tim reaches out and supports the police detective as he walks him to the guest room. When he pulls the blanket up to cover the man, Brent’s eyes flutter open.

  “I do like you,” he says drowsily. “I like you so much. Even more, I think I love you.”

  “Ssh,” Tim whispers. “You sleep now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Brent shifts to lie on his side, his back facing Tim, but Tim can still hear him murmur, “I’m going to watch over you, Tim Gregory.”

  * * * *

  In bed on his own, Tim twists and turns, unable to shut his eyes. He can’t forget Brent’s words and him admitting his love for Tim. He knows he is also attracted to Brent but it’s just too soon to get involved with another man after all the terr
ible things that happened.

  He is still between the waking and sleeping worlds when another thought flickers into his mind. Not about Brent at all, but about Sean that morning after he had unknowingly received the necklace. Until now, Tim had never remembered what happened afterwards, apart from him passing out again. Now flashes of events and strings of words seem to play beneath his closed lids. Suddenly everything becomes clear and he remembers that a big brown envelope that his dad had described with the jewelry in it had not been among the things on his bed at that time. Tim inwardly pats himself on the back as a heavy load lifts off his shoulders. He falls asleep before he can do anything more about it.

  * * * *

  When Tim wakes up in the morning, he doubts what he thought the previous night was even real. It must have been part of a dream when he was half asleep and half awake, and so he decides not to say anything to Brent before he is certain.

  The detective staggers into the kitchen two hours later when Tim is turning pancakes.

  “Ooh, pancakes. Yummy,” Brent mumbles, parking himself on one of the high stools circling around the breakfast bar.

  Tim looks over his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

  “Peachy.”

  “Coffee is over there.”

  Brent groans as he slides off the stool. “Thank you.” His moan of pleasure as he sips at the warm liquid goes straight to Tim’s groin. The plate of pancakes slams too hard when Tim puts it on the table, making Brent jump.

  “Sorry, my hand slipped,” Tim mutters, feeling his face turn hot when Brent swallows a smile.

  “I feel a lot better. Thanks for the aspirin, man, really helped.”

  The normalcy of Brent’s voice makes Tim wonder if he remembers what he said when he was drunk to the bones last night.

  “But I’m serious about what I said. Drunk or not, I’ll still think the same.”

  So he remembers. Tim ducks down. For the second time that morning he feels all flushed. His stack of pancakes is much more appealing to look at. Hell, anything is more appealing to look at right now.

  He makes small sounds in his throat when Brent says, “Look at me.”

  Tim complies.

  “Your kiss,” Brent goes on. “It was for real, wasn’t it? I was pretty sure it was.”

  Tim sighs when Brent takes his hand. “Then I’m right about Dan,” Tim says.

  “You don’t know that.” Brent is already pulling his hand. “Your room or mine?”

  Tim tugs free, smiling. “Go brush your teeth first.”

  * * * *

  After their little quickie, Tim sends Brent to shower while he sneaks into the library where he used to spend time reading scripts and practicing lines with Sean.

  The place is pristine thanks to his absence lately. He hasn’t felt like reading anything in the room after Sean’s death. Tim hurries to the fireplace at the far end of the room. None of the intruders thought of checking behind the stones surrounding the fire place where a safe is locked with the combination of numbers only Tim knows.

  There is no money or paper of any value inside the safe, only scripts he has written, ready to be sent to some producers. If his suspicion is proved correct—if the necklace is indeed inside it—it would be the first real valuable item ever kept in the box. Tim spins the knob several times and the safe opens with a soft click.

  He finds the plain brown envelope with nothing written on it exactly like his father described, on top of the short pile, and he retrieves it carefully. He must have mistaken it for one of his bound scripts inside an envelope. Looking at it now, the box inside is smaller, thicker, and lined with suede like a usual jewelry box. Tim opens it and inhales sharply.

  Suddenly he hears Brent’s faint voice calling him, and he jerks back out of his reverie. Brent can’t see it. Not now. He will think that Tim was hiding the necklace all this time. Tim hurries back to the safe, replaces the box, and secures the lock. With a few relieved breaths, he hangs the painting back on its place on the wall right before Brent peeks into the library.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  Tim smiles despite his pounding heart.

  “Nah, nothing. Are you going now?”

  Brent doesn’t seem to notice the change of topic. He just shrugs.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Tim lifts an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why should there be?”

  “I don’t know; you tell me.”

  Brent shakes his head and Tim leans forward and steals a small kiss from Brent’s lips.

  “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

  * * * *

  After breakfast Tim gave Brent a VIP ticket to the premiere of his latest performance tonight. Now he pushes Brent away to go to the office. Brent doesn’t like it He is supposed to stay with Tim, but Tim insists that he left. It seems rather suspicious, really. It is almost as if Tim is hiding something.

  The sound of his phone ringing brings Brent back to the present.

  “Hello?”

  “Sullivan, we got the go-ahead to take Gregory Junior in.”

  Dan. Goddammit.

  “Is he at his place? Are you at his place?”

  Brent tightens his grip on his cell phone without realizing it.

  “No, I’m not.” He grits his teeth and hangs up, checking his watch. It is still early but he must get to Tim immediately.

  Tim is in his makeup room when Brent storms in.

  “Man, what are you doing here? It’s still four, no, five hours before the show. We’ve still got to do our dress rehearsal and so on.”

  “That’s okay. I’m just going to be around. I, uh—” He jabs his thumb to point outside. “Shall I?”

  Tim smiles, nodding. “You’d better.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

  This time Tim laughs. “You sure love doing that.”

  Brent is hanging around the place, watching the last check of set blocking from the farthest row. He could pick out Tim easily despite the distance between them. Tim has told him that this play was written for Sean.

  Brent only leaves once to buy some hotdogs from a stall outside. He has stopped by Tim’s dressing room to offer him one, but Tim’s stomach is apparently too knotted to welcome food, so Brent finishes them all. Tim ushers him out sometime later as the show is about to begin. Brent goes reluctantly. Who would want to leave this gorgeous creature, complete with dark liner around his eyes that punctuates the sparkling greenness of them? He doesn’t feel like sharing Tim with an audience. If only he could just bundle him up and carry him home. To make it worse, Tim won’t allow Brent to kiss him because it will ruin his makeup. Aw, what the hell.

  His phone is vibrating in his pants’ pocket. He picks it up. It’s Dan. Brent considers it for a brief second and rejects it. He switches off the phone completely.

  It’s time to watch Tim.

  The first part of the show blows Brent’s mind completely. The play focuses on a black coffin in the middle of the stage with Tim’s character busy warding off other actors who are dressed as cockroaches. Brent shudders watching those insects. They look so real and their enormous size makes them even more disgusting. The metallic dark brown costumes effectively contrast with Tim’s, a flimsy piece of lacy loin cloth that takes his breath away.

  During the interval, Brent listens to the buzz of conversations as the audience enjoys their refreshments. Brent doesn’t talk to anyone but he can tell that they are all mesmerized by Tim.

  In the second part, they bring Sean back through a holographic presentation that means to totally break Tim, causing him to lash out at everyone on stage, downing bottles of beer. They take away the coffin, leaving Tim crumpled on the floor, drunk and unconscious. The curtain drops and the audience, with eyes damp with tears, rise for a standing ovation. When the curtain opens again, their claps are cut short and gasps resound around the theater as they see that there is no row of the supporting cast lining on stage, just Tim, still lying on
the floor.

  He gets up on all fours, making Brent’s breath catch as he witnesses the sheer beauty before his eyes, Tim without a stitch on his body but a necklace hanging around his neck.

  Brent’s jaw drops. No, it can’t be. Can it? Tim told him he couldn’t remember—

  The view from Brent’s seat is not too clear. The space between the chairs and the stage is wide, and the stage is elevated and dimly lit. Brent can’t be sure it’s the necklace that Tim is wearing.

  Tim gets on his feet and treads down the stage in a lazy gait in Brent’s direction. His shaved manhood is swinging freely, mesmerizing everyone, turning the entire theater into complete and utter silence. A string of blue sapphires and diamonds dangles comfortably against Tim’s milky white complexion, accentuating his long neck.

  Brent cannot so much as blink when he realizes that Tim is standing in front of him. His legs unfold as he stands up and he reaches out to cup Tim’s face. Tim stops him. He lifts the necklace and puts it into Brent’s open palms.

  “I remembered,” he murmurs softly and stands on his toes. His face tilts up and he closes his eyes. Brent reads the signs well and he dips low, kissing Tim gently on the lips.

  It’s such a perfect quiet moment for them as no one dares make a sound. Brent can see that Tim needs the play for some kind of a closure and Brent feels exactly the same.

  Perhaps it is too soon to think that way now that the necklace is tucked deep in Brent’s pants’ pocket.

  “Freeze. Tim Gregory, you are under arrest for obstructing an investigation.”

  Brent shouts out when Tim is wrenched away from his hands.

  “Wait.” He fishes into his pocket and raises the jewelry high. “I have the necklace here. You should let him go.”

  Tim only shakes his head and smiles in his direction as some cops are securing his hands behind his back, covering him with a blanket.

  “Brent, no.”

  Dan switches his attention to his partner. “And you, Sullivan, you have an appointment with Internal Affairs.”

  “Whatever, as long as you release Tim.”