Hollywood Bound

by Morticia Knight

  Jack paused before going any further. The quiet was deafening between them, but he was certain that if he uttered any sound, it would break the magic that was keeping them both in thrall. Moving even more cautiously, Jack let his hands drop lower, past Nick’s waist, and settled them on the ass he had secretly admired for so long.

  The silence broke.

  “Jacky,” whispered Nick, “we shouldn’t be touching each other like this.”

  Even as he said it, Jack knew in his heart that it was a lie, as Nick hadn’t let him go. And he could feel his closest and only friend’s hard cock pressed against his belly.

  “Why, Nick? You must know how I feel about you. I can tell you like me too. Why can’t we just feel good about something?”

  Nick let him go and Jack heard him stumbling around in the darkness. One of the small lights in the backstage went on. They were still in the back door area, and the rest of the theatre lay before them, ominous and deserted.

  Nick had his back to Jack, and he spoke without turning around.

  “Look, Jack, I do like you. But…oh Jesus, just you never mind. This ain’t the right time for this. We have to talk about what happened with Mr Pearson tonight. And what’s gonna happen.”

  Jack slumped his shoulders, but at the same time, it was the closest they’d come to talking about what they were to each other than ever before. At least Nick hadn’t pushed him away. He hadn’t hit or kicked him and said he was disgusting or a filthy queer. He had seemed like he felt the same too.

  I just want to show him. Show how much he really means to me.

  “Here, Jack, grab our stuff and let’s make a spot for ourselves on the sand bags over here behind these flats.”

  The bags were used to anchor the curtains and scenery, and it was usually Jack’s job to move the scenery flats out of the way and keep them stored neatly in the wings for future shows, or repainted as necessary. Nothing went to waste in Mr Pearson’s universe. He did as Nick had said, and watched as Nick positioned the pieces so that they made a little faux room around the sandbags that were pushed against the brick wall lining the back of the theatre.

  “Are we staying here, Nick?”

  Nick gestured for Jack to sit down, so he plopped onto their make-shift bed.

  Nick joined him, and it seemed to Jack that he was being careful not to sit too close.

  “So here’s the thing, kid. Mr Pearson is a filthy no-good thief. It’s goin’ on two weeks of wages he owes us. That’s almost a hundred bucks. Well, I ain’t gonna stand for it no more, ya see? I figure he owes us a place to stay since we ain’t got no rent money. So, for now, we’re stayin’ here.”

  “But I don’t get it. How come you got the key? I saw you talkin’ to Oscar. How’d he get the key?”

  “This is where payin’ attention to shit pays off. I’ve known for a while that little bastard has been coming in here at night and nickin’ shit from the theatre. Once when we was drinkin’, he told me about the key and how old man Pearson had no idea he’d stolen the spare a long time ago. So’s I told him tonight that I’d tell Mr Pearson that he was the crook if he didn’t give me the key for a while. See how braggin’ gets you in trouble?”

  Jack hung his head down. He knew it was his fault for a lot of what had happened earlier. Was it his fault that they hadn’t got paid too? That they were sneaking into the theatre and sleeping on dirty sand bags on the floor?

  “I’m really sorry, Nick. I didn’t know we wouldn’t get paid because of me.”

  Nick reached across to put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Even though Jack was sure it was meant just as a friendly comforting gesture, he could feel the heat that even the slightest touch from Nick created on his skin.

  “We didn’t get paid because Pearson is an asshole. Not because of anythin’ you said or did. In some ways, he might’ve done us a favour.”

  “Huh? I don’t get it.”

  “Let’s just say that with no rent to pay, we’ll be savin’ even more money than ever. It’s all gonna work out, kid. Just you wait.”

  “Whatever you say, Nick, you know I trust you all the way.”

  Nick stroked his shoulder softly with his thumb for just a few seconds, then removed his hand.

  I won’t be scared. Nick is here. He’ll protect me.

  Nick stared up at the ceiling. He’d left the one small light on, and the weak rays from it filtered through the painted canvas of the flats and sneaked in between the openings between them. Jack had said it was okay, he wouldn’t be scared if Nick shut it off. But he didn’t dare. Those few moments when he and Jack had been encased in complete darkness it had seemed as though they were one person, and it had scared the shit out of him.

  It reminded him of those goofy poems his mother used to read aloud to his sisters that would make them giggle and sigh—all hearts and souls and love and together forever. It was how he was supposed to feel about Penelope, and it was the absolute last thing he felt for her. He didn’t dislike her. He just didn’t want to have to touch her. He didn’t want to kiss her, caress or fuck her.

  How did I get myself into this mess?

  It had seemed so simple those few years ago. He would go to the big city for a few months and work for his uncle—get some experience. Then he’d go back to Philly, have some skills to get a job, save up and marry Penelope in a couple of years. And live the life his parents had lived and their parents and so on.

  He had made excuse after excuse. First he couldn’t come back because his uncle died and he didn’t have the fare. Then it was that he had a great job and could save so much faster by staying there. Through all of it, Penelope kept sending letters filled with longing and sentiments that meant nothing to him. For that he felt bad, but he couldn’t pretend something that didn’t exist.

  Through it all, it had always been Jack. Nick knew that now. It still didn’t mean that he was planning on doing anything about it, but at least he understood himself a little bit better. It wasn’t that Penelope wasn’t the right girl, it was just that Penelope was a girl. It all made so much sense. Why he’d been unable to turn away from Jack, why he’d always felt so protective towards him, why he’d wanted to kiss him tonight in the dark.

  I love him.

  Nick punched a sandbag that lay between him and Jack.

  “Fuck!”

  Jack started and turned over.

  “What? Have we been caught?”

  There was such fear in Jack’s voice.

  God, he’s so sweet. So beautiful. This shouldn’t be happening. It can only bring trouble.

  “No, Jacky boy. Go to sleep, I’ll keep watch.”

  Jack yawned and looked at him through drowsy eyes.

  “No one ever comes in here before noon, Nick. Get some sleep. I feel guilty.”

  “Jesus, kid, don’t worry about it.”

  “Well, wake me up in a couple hours, and I’ll take over.”

  “Sure, kid. Whatever you say.”

  Chapter Three

  A week had gone by, and it looked like they were getting away with hiding in the theatre. No one had said anything and they all went about their business each day. Mr Pearson kept smirking at Jack in a weird kind of way, but he never said anything. Jack was positive that if he knew anything he would have kicked them straight out and slammed the door on their asses. Then they would really be in trouble. No place to stay and no job at all.

  The only thing that was different was the way that Oscar kept avoiding both him and Nick. He only spoke with them as much as was required to do the job, but other than that, he kept to himself.

  I wonder what Nick said to him.

  Sometimes Nick could be very intimidating. He knew that Nick was a good person deep down inside—the way he’d always looked out for Jack was a testament to that—but he could be scary to other people who didn’t know him. Maybe he had threatened Oscar with something more than just telling Mr Pearson. Jack just didn’t want Nick to get into any trouble.

  Especially si
nce I started this whole mess.

  As much as Nick insisted it had nothing to do with anything he’d done, Jack could tell there was something that had happened with Mr Pearson that he wasn’t talking about. But Jack was trying to be patient. Ever since that first night in the dark, Nick had been very careful to avoid either shutting out the light, or getting too close to Jack. He’d even gone so far as to huddle up in his thin jacket, and just let Jack use the blanket.

  Jack squinted at Nick’s arm, trying to see what time it was on his watch. Nick had his cap pulled down over his eyes—probably to block out the light. They usually tried to be up and out of there no later than eight o’clock to be on the safe side. Jack leaned a little closer, making a slight crunching noise on the sandbags between them.

  “Whaddya want, kid?”

  Jack jumped back.

  “I just wanted to know what time it was. Sorry.”

  Nick pushed his cap back off his face.

  “You need to knock that off. Quit sayin’ you’re sorry all of the time. Makes you sound like some pathetic baby. You’re a man, remember?”

  Jack turned over and didn’t respond. It hurt his heart the way Nick would talk to him sometimes—even if he knew he was right. And ever since they’d been staying in the theatre, Nick had been extra irritable. Jack was sure it had to do with them being somewhere they shouldn’t. Plus the whole thing with the money. Just a few more hours, and they’d find out if they were getting paid. Jack didn’t even want to consider what might happen if they didn’t get their money this time. Nick might just come completely unhinged.

  He heard Nick sigh.

  “Don’t mind me, kid. I’m just hungry, that’s all. It makes me cranky. I’ll go first to the washroom, and then it’ll be your turn. After that, we’ll get our morning smoke and cup of coffee.”

  They had been sharing the small bathroom in the back of the theatre to clean up and wash their things. They’d had to be extra sneaky—hiding their drying clothes in little out-of-the-way spots, making sure nothing looked like it was out of place when Pearson came in every morning. If it wasn’t so serious, he would have thought of it as an adventure.

  Jack got a fresh set of clothes out of their bag, and waited for Nick to finish up. Very reluctantly, Nick had broken into the Hollywood money. They’d had no choice. With only thirty cents left until they might get paid a week later, they would have starved.

  “One dollar each, that’s it,” he’d said. “We’ll have to make it last. If we only have two smokes a day, a cup of coffee and split a cheese sandwich, we can do it.”

  “Geez, Nick, I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it.”

  “Okay, look. If it gets real bad, we can head over to the bakery. They always throw the old rolls out the back when they’s no good anymore. We can scrape the bad parts off and eat the rest.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  It hadn’t sounded all right, but it was better than digging through old random trash looking for food people had thrown away. That was what they’d had to do back when they were on the streets before. Jack didn’t want to let on to Nick, but he felt secure knowing that the fifty dollars was there in case they ended up really having to use it.

  After they were finished getting ready for the day, they stashed their belongings, and put the scenery and sand bags all back where they usually were.

  “How long you think we’ll have to do this Nick?”

  “If things go the way I want, we’ll be seein’ the blue waters of the West Coast in just a coupla weeks.”

  Nick had a look in his eyes and a smile on his face that Jack rarely saw. It was obvious that the thought of being so close to making it to California thrilled him.

  If only he would look like that when he thought about me.

  They had been so close—so close to doing something about their feelings for each other that first night in the theatre. Jack had felt hope, but now it seemed they’d gone backwards. Nick was willing to be cold rather than let Jack near him. For a very brief moment Jack thought about letting Nick go on ahead without him. Maybe stay at the theatre and make it on his own. It would just be too painful if they made it to the coast and Nick sent for Penelope.

  But that idea was quickly cast aside. A part of him knew that even if he could never have him the way he wanted, and even if Nick loved a hundred women, as long as he was still around, Jack would be happy.

  It was unusually cool for mid-May, and Nick rubbed his hands together as they headed to Huyler’s where they always got their coffee. It was a bit of a walk, but it wasn’t as if they had anything else to fill their time with until they went to the theatre at noon. But lately, he’d had a very good idea of how he’d like to pass the time, and it was driving him crazy.

  His thoughts strayed to Jack, and a dream he’d had the night before. In the dream he had said to Jack that he was hungry, that he couldn’t take it anymore. Jack had offered his cock to him, and Nick had taken it greedily into his mouth, savouring every inch of Jack’s flavour, licking and sucking until Jack had shot his cum down Nick’s throat. As soon as he’d done that, he hadn’t been hungry any more. He had even felt completely satisfied and at peace. It was an odd vision, as he had absolutely no idea what Jack—or any other man—tasted like. But now it was all he could think about. He had spent the last few days avoiding physical contact with Jack, but it wasn’t helping to keep his feelings at bay. If anything, they were getting stronger.

  They walked in silence, and Nick was sure that Jack didn’t know what to say to him lately, as Nick had been so stand-offish.

  I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but what if I give in, and it doesn’t work out? What if I end up hating myself and him because of it? Then what?

  They reached Huyler’s, and it was busier than usual. There were no spots at the counter, and the tables were reserved for people buying food.

  Dammit.

  “Come on, kid. Let’s go outside for a smoke, and we’ll see if it clears up.”

  Jack followed him out as he followed him everywhere, and Nick felt that clutching in his chest when he thought of how rotten he treated Jack sometimes. He didn’t mean to. It was just his way of making sure he didn’t get too soft with Jack, which would only lead to other behaviour.

  “How much we got left, Nick?”

  “Ten cents. Enough for a cup each until we get paid. This is the last smoke though, so we’ll each take turns puffin’, okay?”

  Jack had a funny look on his face as though he were turning something over and over in his mind.

  “We’re sure to get paid today, right?”

  “If Pearson wants to keep his nose on straight, then yeah, we’re gettin’ paid today.”

  “So it wouldn’t hurt if we took out another dollar, sat at one of the tables and had a great big pancake breakfast, with syrup and bacon and—”

  Nick yanked Jack up by his collar. He was so angry, he could barely see straight.

  “We don’t touch anymore of this fuckin’ money—you got it?”

  Jack’s eyes were wide like saucers, and his lower lip trembled a bit. Nick let him go and looked away. His lust for Jack was consuming him, changing him into some sort of beast he no longer recognised.

  Unable to face Jack, he turned towards him just enough to offer him the cigarette.

  “Here. You take the rest.”

  “Fuck you, Nick!” he yelled, batting the cigarette from Nick’s hand.

  Nick swirled all the way around just in time to see Jack running away. The kid was speedy, and Nick spurred into action. He had no idea where Jack was headed, but he was filled with a sudden terror that if he didn’t make things right, he might not ever see him again. That thought alone filled him with dread, and pushed him to move faster.

  Just as Jack rounded a corner into one of the many filthy alleys that cut through the city, Nick caught up to him and slammed him against the wall.

  “Let me go, you jerk!”

  Jack struggled with him, kicking
at Nick’s shins, but Nick held Jack fast, grasping his hands above his head and shoving his thigh in between Jack’s legs, giving him no room to get away or strike out at him.

  Jack stilled, both of them out of breath from running like crazy men, their chests heaving with their exertion. Nick gazed down at Jack who was being careful to look to the side and not make eye contact. All Nick wanted in that moment was to claim him. To tell Jack that he belonged to him, with him, and nowhere else.

  “I hate you,” Jack said softly, still not looking at Nick.

  Nick’s heart was breaking, yet he could feel the hard outline of Jack’s dick pressed against his thigh. Jack liked it. He liked having Nick hold him there, restrain him like that. Be rough with him.

  “No you don’t.”

  Suddenly, Nick used his free hand to turn Jack’s head towards him. Nick pressed his lips against Jack’s and forced his way into his mouth. He explored and probed, enjoying the sweetness of him. It had never felt like this before. The hesitant little pecks he had shared with Penelope had been sterile and cold compared to this glorious heat. He deepened the kiss, sweeping the inside of Jack’s teeth and tongue, memorising every little nuance that was him. His man. His Jack.

  Jack had relaxed in Nick’s embrace and was responding to him unreservedly. They were both hard and kissing with such an urgency that Nick knew if they weren’t careful they would end up fucking right there in the alley and risk getting arrested.

  He pulled away abruptly, but still held Jack prisoner.

  “Not here. We can’t take a chance gettin’ caught.”

  Jack had tears at the corners of his eyes, and Nick bent down to kiss them gently away.

  “There, there, Jacky boy. It’s okay. Everythin’s gonna be okay.”

  Jack choked on a little sob.