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His hands smooth the napkin over and over again. “I remembered you said, at that audition…”
Chris nods and sips at his beer. “I did. I’m still interested.”
Justin- is that his name?- looks up, eyes wet and eager and his hands reach across the table, latch onto his. He looks so young, so extremely young and Chris wonders if he knows what it’s really like. “We could do this, start something together,” he says.
“Do you understand what it would be like? How much work this would be?”
Justin sits back and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “I can do it. We can.”
Shrug. “Maybe you’re right.”
--
So young, Chris thinks, watching Justin hug his mother goodbye, tears he’d never admit to gathering in his eyes.
Chris turns to hug his mother and feels suddenly old, suddenly worn out. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, and knows that Justin’s mother says the same thing.
--
“It’s so cute,” Joey says. “Like hero worship.” He claps his hands together and sighs dramatically. Chris smacks him.
“Fuck off.”
“No really, he made me take him to buy bandanas today. Try finding a store in Hamburg that sells bandanas, man. We must have walked around for hours.”
Chris looks over at Justin, who is looking back at him. He sighs. “It’s got to stop. I’m not…”
Joey touches his arm, suddenly serious. “You could be,” he says.
Chris pulls away. His eyes never leave Justin’s. “I don’t know how,” he whispers.
--
Chris stops wearing bandanas. So does Justin.
--
He watches Lou watch Justin, greed and hunger in his eyes. Justin pulls of his shirt and Lou steps forward, moves closer and Chris calls his name.
Lou turns to him with impatience, anger, grim understanding in his eyes. “Watch yourself, Kirkpatrick,” he snarls, lifting one fat hand to wipe at the sweat on his brow. “I don’t need you, not like I need him.”
Chris turns away, catches Justin’s eye. “I’m watching you,” he says to Lou, never taking his eyes from Justin. “And I wouldn’t leave without him.”
Lou laughs and turns away; Chris thinks maybe he isn’t worth the effort.
Justin looks confused, so Chris smiles. Justin waves.
--
“Hey, Curly,” he says, carding his fingers through Justin’s hair.
“Shorty,” Justin shoots back. Chris blinks and has to look up to meet Justin’s eyes and it never occurred to him until then.
“Whatever,” he says.
--
They are just at the good part, in Chris’s opinion. Hand that isn’t his in his pants, tongue thrusting into his mouth, ragged breath in his ear. He tips his head back against the wall and the strobe lights flash against his eyelids. Sex in public places has always been his thing.
“Chris,” he hears, over the pulsing bass and the chatter of voices. He didn’t tell the guy his name.
“Chris.” Again.
He opens his eyes and Justin is standing there, watching him, and Chris wishes he could close his eyes again, make him disappear, but he can’t. Justin watches him, licks his little red lips and someone jostles him from behind but his eyes never leave Chris’s.
“Justin.” Chris finally closes his eyes and moans; one last thrust of his hips and it’s like his first time again, in high school, when he couldn’t even get his underwear off.
He opens his eyes again, but Justin is still there.
--
Justin falls asleep spread across him, shirt discarded on the floor. Chris wants to run his hand over the smooth skin of his back but he doesn’t, he can’t. He closes his eyes and thinks of Lou.
--
Justin is way past drunk, stumbling into his hotel room, arm wrapped around Chris’s neck for support.
He pushes Chris back against the wall and Chris could knock him down, easily, but he doesn’t and Justin presses his mouth against Chris’s. Warm tequila breath across his lips and then the warm, sticky skin and Chris lets him, just for a moment. Pretends.
Then Justin stumbles away, mumbling under his breath and Chris pounds his head against the wall, hard enough to hurt.
--
“We’re in love,” Justin says, fingers threaded through hers. He sifts his other hand through her fake blonde extensions, runs a finger down her cheek.
JC claps his hands together, sighing. “Beautiful,” he says, and means it.
“It’s forever,” Justin whispers later, hand clenched around a Jack and coke. “It’s so huge. Feels like forever.”
Chris nods. “Good,” he says, and tries not to remember when he thought that about Dani.
--
“She doesn’t get it,” he says. “She won’t ‘tie herself down’ or whatever. I just want… assurance.”
Chris nods into the phone. He can hear Justin crying, hitching sobs, but he can’t say what he wants to.
--
They are just at the good part, Chris can see. Justin spread against the wall, head tilted back. Guy’s hand in his pants and mouth at Justin’s throat. Sex in public places has always been his thing.
Justin’s mouth falls open and it’s wrong somehow, all wrong.
“Justin,” he says, before he can stop himself.
Justin’s eyes open and for a few seconds, Chris can’t look away. The wrongness and the guilt and the shame and the overwhelming need get tangled up inside and the wet cavern of Justin’s open mouth transfixes him.
“Chris,” Justin says, lips forming the name he doesn’t give breath to.
Chris closes his eyes and moves away.
--
“Why?” Justin asks again. Always asks.
“I don’t. You don’t… It’s nothing,” Chris says, hunching his shoulders to pull away.
“It’s something. You always watch me. I’ve seen you, even when you thought I didn’t.”
“Justin…”
“I want to know why,” Justin says, and Chris knows he won’t listen to excuses anymore.
--
Justin crosses his arms and glares. Chris doesn’t want to watch, but he does.
“Why do you always say that? I do understand.”
Chris shakes his head, pulls away from Justin’s clutching hands. “You don’t, most of the time.”
“When?”
“Whenever, Justin. I haven’t been keeping track. You’re just… it’s so different for you. You’re so much younger, you’ve grown up like this. I can’t, I don’t know how to make you see sometimes.”
Justin pushes past Chris’s attempts to move away, wraps himself around Chris’s waist and clings tighter than Chris knew he could.
“I might not have always understood, but you were there to show me.”
Chris sighs and Justin moves closer, his face pressing into the warm curve of Chris’s shoulder. “Justin…”
“I need you there, to show me,” Justin whispers, mouth moving against Chris’s skin.
“I will,” Chris says. He can feel Justin’s smile against his neck.
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