by GA Hauser
“Yes. You commute together every day. People aren’t stupid, Carl.” She stepped back. “Just don’t sweat it. Okay? Look. I need to get you two back to work. Now, take another minute to compose yourselves and get back on the set.”
After she walked away, Keith sat up in the chair. “I am so sick I feel like vomiting.”
“We’ll deal with this. Just inhale a few deep breaths.”
“Why did she tell us this now? Huh? Before a taping? I’m a wreck.”
“You have to straighten up, Keith. Don’t show her you can’t take the heat. Please.”
Hearing that as a serious warning about not getting cut from the show and keeping his job, Keith rubbed the cool sweat off his face and stood. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”
Carl’s black slacks were dirty from sitting on the floor. As he slapped at them, Keith helped, brushing the dry dust from the material. Feeling Carl’s solid legs under the thin fabric, Keith felt a flash of fire and stopped touching him instantly.
“Thanks.” Carl didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.
“Let’s get today over with. I need a fucking drink.” Keith nudged him to head back to the set.
“You can always hit Betty up for a snort.”
Thinking about the older co-star who played Carl’s character’s mother, Keith actually smiled in amusement. “I should. But that whiskey she drinks is murder.”
Carl chuckled softly, placing his arm around Keith’s shoulders.
After Ken, their make-up man, brushed Keith’s hair and powdered his shine, he and Carl stood by for the instructions.
Seeing everyone waiting, Keith knew it would take a supreme effort on his and Carl’s part to act normal, pretend things were fine, and go through their lines.
But he and Carl had had this discussion before. They were the great pretenders now. Everything in their life was make-believe, except, Keith hoped, their love. If that wasn’t real, then what good was all the agony?
“Okay, you boys ready?” Charlotte asked in her usual professional manner as if she hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb on them.
“Yes,” they both replied softly.
“Living room scene. Take one. Action!”
Keith knew his line was first up. “A gay bar? Not really, Troy. How could we go to a gay bar?”
Carl reached for Keith’s hand and squeezed it tight. “One fun night out to relax and be ourselves. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal?” Keith choked at the absurdity. “Your family is already giving us a hard time, and mine have no clue I’m gay. It is a big deal, Troy.”
“Dennis,” Carl cupped Keith’s jaw gently, “it’s a night where we don’t have to hide. We can let our guard down and be ourselves.”
Keith melted at Carl’s gaze. He always turned to mush whether it was on or off camera. “Fine. A night at a gay bar. Okay.”
“I love you. Come here.” Carl wrapped around Keith and kissed him.
Instantly Keith imagined that evil culprit filming them with a small mobile phone or another device. He parted from Carl’s mouth and struggled not to look around the crowded room.
“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Troy.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Famous last words.” Keith reached for the front door on the set.
“Cut!”
Keith dropped his hand to his side and waited for the verdict.
“Well done. Go take a break.”
Hearing Charlotte’s approval, Keith walked over to the refreshment table and poured himself a glass of juice.
“You okay?”
Meeting Carl’s gaze, Keith shook his head. “No. I’m surprised she didn’t make me redo that last scene. I have so much shit going on in my head at the moment I must look like I’m passing a kidney stone.”
“Yes, but ironically it’s the same expression your character should have.”
“True.” Keith sipped his juice. “I’m so sick about this, Carl.”
“When we get back to my place we’ll look up the site.”
“Do we really want to do that?”
Carl poured coffee into a cup. “I do. I want to see whose YouTube site it belongs to. There has to be a way of figuring it out.”
“You know the weird thing, Carl?”
“No, what?”
“I expected fan sites to pop up, even with gay overtones, considering our characters, but for someone to secretly video tape us squirming in bed? It’s the worst violation of privacy I could imagine. Why couldn’t they be satisfied with the two minute montage Charlotte would have provided? The one she edited for the show? Christ, Carl, how much do you want to bet they can see both our erections?”
“Stop. Honestly, Keith, I can’t think about this now and work at the same time.”
“I’m sorry, Carl.” Keith beat himself up for moving in with Carl. It was a mistake. But now that they were living together, Keith didn’t want them to be apart.
~
Another scene between two other cast members, Cheryl Jones and Omar Desmond acting as Doris and Xavier, who also played lovers, was shot quickly. As Keith waited for the next step in filming, he found the crew packing up. “Shit. She’s really taking us on location for this.”
“She is.” Carl ran his fingers through his hair nervously.
“A real gay bar?” Keith asked.
“I don’t know if it’ll be gay, but it’s obviously out somewhere.”
Keith raced after his director before she slipped away. “Charlotte?”
“Yes, sugarplum?”
“Where’s the shoot going to be?”
“At a bar in West Hollywood.”
“A gay bar?”
“Yes. We needed the dancers. And the atmosphere is fantastic.”
“Dancers?” Keith tried not so sound like a shocked hillbilly.
“You’ll see.” She kissed his cheek and waved her entourage on.
~
Sitting in the back of a chauffeur driven sedan, Carl leaned his elbow on the armrest on the door, gazing out at the traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard. He didn’t want to talk to Keith about it. They didn’t know the driver and everyone was on their list of suspects now.
When they were stopped at a roadblock, Carl leaned closer to the window to see the police had barricaded the city block off that held the popular gay club. Gawkers leered beyond the police line to get a glimpse of the stars involved in the shoot.
Rubbing the stubble on his jaw anxiously, Carl felt his stomach flip. He was going to be inside a gay bar. How easy would it be for their phantom photographer to claim the shots were from their real life and not the show? This was just too simple a game to play. They may as well throw up their hands and admit it after all the incriminating photographs hit the internet and tabloid press.
Carl looked over at Keith. He seemed pale and pinched, staring out of the opposite window.
The car stopped directly in front of the club. Carl couldn’t read the name of the place until he got out and stood on the street in front of it. The area was chaotic with equipment, crew, and spotlights surrounding the entrance.
Carl felt Keith brush his side. When he looked down at him, Keith was riveted to the club. “Have you ever heard of it?”
“No. You?” Keith briefly met his eyes.
“No.”
“Look at the flier in the window.”
Carl scanned the façade and found it. “My Big Fat Dick Contest? Oh, for crying out loud.”
“I had no idea places like this existed.”
“Makes two of us.”
“I swear, I’m so fucking nervous I can’t remember any of my lines.”
“We don’t have many.” Carl looked around for Charlotte. “If I remember right, we enter, dance, and kiss. Something like that.”
“We have lines, Carl.”
“A few. Don’t worry.” Although Carl reassured Keith, he was very anxious himself. Where was this plot going and how much more could they do
to damage their acting reputation?
We’ll never get another role after this show ends. We’re completely finished.
“Okay, boys.” Charlotte materialized out of thin air behind them. “Just the quick shot of you two entering. Holding hands. Then we go in. Okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Carl mumbled, petrified of what the inside of the place held in store for them.
She spun around and began hollering for the camera crew to get ready.
Keith nervously combed his fingers through his blond hair as he eyed the surroundings. “Look at all those spectators.”
Carl turned to where he pointed. An enormous crowd was gathering behind the barricades. Cops stood between the wooden horses to prevent any breeching. When Carl faced them to get a better look, a loud squeal erupted from the women who began shouting and waving at them. “Our loyal fans.”
“It’s all women, Carl. That has to be a good thing.”
“True. See? Don’t lose hope.” Carl waved back. Another roar of high-pitched screams ricocheted around them.
“Okay…” Charlotte looked back at the noise. “Oh, we need to shut them up.” She scanned the employees who were rushing by them. “Bruce! Brucie!” She waved. “Get over there and quiet them down.”
Bruce nodded and raced over to the raucous chaos.
“Let’s get this done and get inside. The noise level out here is horrible.”
“Our fans love us,” Carl chuckled.
“They do! Believe me, I know,” she laughed. “Grab hands. Let’s go.”
As she backed up, Carl reached out for his lover’s hand. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Keith connected to Carl’s fingers and squeezed tight.
“Club entrance scene. Take one. Action!”
On cue, Carl began walking Keith up to the front of the club. He opened the door and just before he allowed Keith in, Keith gave his ass a good caress. Carl twisted around to see his demonic grin, shaking his head at him. Once they were inside, Carl sighed, “We’ll have to do it again now.”
“Wanna bet?” Keith didn’t release his hand.
Seconds later Charlotte raced in breathlessly. “Nice touch, Keith! I loved it.”
“Told ya.” Keith teased.
“You’re beginning to get as demented as our director.” Carl released Keith’s grip and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Okay. Inside.” Charlotte led the way into the main dance floor of the club.
When Carl pushed back the doors to follow her, the room went silent. As he and Keith entered, Carl found dozens of men, mute, staring at them. “Oh, my fucking God.” Carl felt their curious intense gazes, most likely asking themselves, ”Are they or aren’t they?”
“Carl…”
“Easy, Keith. Inhale, exhale.”
As Carl tried to smile amiably at the scores of men who watched them as they passed, he noticed buff male dancers in only g-strings, ogling as they approached. “Hey,” Carl greeted a man as he walked by. “You all right?”
“What are you doing?” Keith hissed.
“They’re staring at me,” Carl whispered back. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Okay, gentlemen!” Charlotte shouted to the men in the crowded room. “Just act naturally. Dance, drink, talk, be yourselves.”
Melvin appeared out of nowhere. He reached out his hand. “Give me your jacket, Carl.”
Carl removed his suit jacket, handing it to him. “You must be in heaven.”
“I am. It’s my favorite haunt.” Mel folded the blazer over his arm. “Enjoy!”
“What are we supposed to do? Carl, my mind is blank.”
“We dance.” Carl noticed some of the men trying to listen. Speaking softer, Carl leaned to Keith’s ear. “We dance like we’re fucking each other, kiss and make out. Remember?”
“In front of all these gay guys?”
“Shut up.” Carl couldn’t feel any more nervous if he tried.
“I need a fucking drink,” Keith announced.
To Carl’s amazement, someone handed him one.
“What is it?” Keith asked the handsome man.
“Rum and Coke.”
“Thanks.” Keith sucked it down thirstily.
“You want one?” the same man asked Carl.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Before he could receive it, Carl shouted, “Charlotte! We’re having a stiff one first!” As soon as he realized what he had said, the entire place broke up with laughter. Seeing Keith’s smirk, Carl moaned, “Oh, Christ, where’s the booze?”
“If you want something stiff, you came to the right place, Carl!” came Charlotte’s snappy reply.
“Here, love.” A man handed Carl a glass.
Detecting a slight accent, Carl met the man’s eyes. He was absolutely gorgeous. The heat of excitement washed over Carl’s skin. “Thanks.” He shot it down quickly and handed the stunning man back the empty glass.
“Anytime, love. Anytime.”
Carl had to stop ogling him. There were so many handsome men in the room he was going crazy.
“Can we get rolling, honey pies?” Charlotte asked loudly.
“Yes, Mother!” Carl opened the top button of his cotton shirt, boiling hot suddenly.
“Okay! Cue the music and lights!”
Loud dance music blasted and swirls of colored lights began spinning around them.
“How the hell are we supposed to say dialogue over this?” Keith waved to the surroundings.
“That’s her fucking problem.”
Over an amplified speaker, they heard, “Gay dance scene. Take one. Action!”
Carl had no idea what they should be doing. So he grabbed Keith by the hips and connected their crotches together, dancing cock to cock.
In response, Keith wrapped his arms around Carl’s neck, licking his skin and chewing on his shirt collar.
Carl felt his body tingle and caught the eyes of the men as they surrounded them. Though they were trying to act normal, every one of them was keeping track of his and Keith’s actions.
Feeling Keith step back, dancing with his arms over his head in sudden wild abandon, Carl blinked in awe. Someone behind Keith reached around him, pulling Keith’s t-shirt over his head.
Carl had no idea what to do. Should they stop? Break the scene? Keith seemed to be loving it. The look on his face was pure bliss.
With his shirt off, and most likely gone for good, Keith began unbuttoning Carl’s. As Carl held his breath, moving to the deep, throbbing beat, he felt the warm air brushing his naked skin.
Raising his head to see where the cameras were, Carl just noticed two nearly naked men, dancing erotically, touching their hard-ons through their g-strings and pulling their small garments down their hips, nearly exposing themselves.
“Holy shit,” Carl mumbled, knowing no one could hear.
Keith removed Carl’s shirt. They were dancing topless in the leering crowd. Keith wrapped around Carl, licking his chest and pumping his hips into Carl’s.
A camera made an aggressive appearance, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. As Keith devoured the skin on Carl’s chest, it closed in on the action. Suddenly Carl felt as if he needed to react, participate, when all he had been doing was observing the surroundings like a stunned spectator.
Noticing some men kissing, Carl held Keith’s face and directed it toward his mouth. The minute they connected, Keith went wild. Carl closed his eyes, pretending they weren’t being spied by so many men and several cameras, and deepened the kiss. Keith opened the top button on Carl’s slacks and dug his hand into them. When Keith made contact with Carl’s cock, Carl knew this was going too far. Gently he urged Keith’s fingers back out on the pretext of holding his hand. In seconds Keith had pulled out of his grasp using both his palms to slide down Carl’s back to cup his bare ass inside his slacks.
With Keith humping his crotch, causing arousing friction, Carl felt his cock go rigid. He wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist and lifted him off
the floor, sucking at his tongue, moaning in agony. They weren’t here; they were alone in their bedroom. Oh, God please let this be a dream!
Carl needed to slow Keith down. He had no idea what had come over him.
~
Keith was so horny he was about to explode. He didn’t know what was in that drink, but whatever it was, it made his cock rock hard. He wanted Carl naked. Squeezing his ass cheeks in his palms, Keith felt the firmness of Carl’s perfect bottom and the hard bulge of Carl’s cock against his. Their tongues dancing around each other, the thrill of all the gorgeous men surrounding them, and the perfect muscle-bound dancers, Keith had never felt so uninhibited and free. He wanted to strip, hop up on the stage, and dance buck-naked.
In his ear, Carl hissed, “Slow down.”
Opening his eyes, Keith came face to face with a camera lens. For a moment, just a split second, Keith had lost himself in the fantasy. But this wasn’t a dream, this was a taping.
