Chapter 8
Due to the complete lack of reviews on my latest chapter, I have decided to take a month off from updating this site. See you on 5/06. -DL
"Wow, what a long night," Drew sighed as Jarrod helped him through the door of his apartment.
"Yeah," the caterer sighed wearily. They'd been at the hospital for hours, talking to the police and giving their formal statements. Both of them were exhausted, now that the adrenaline rush of earlier had worn off. Drew in particular was wavering on his feet, his head sunk nearly to his chest. His bruised arm was neatly encased in a sling, but it was starting to throb dully as the painkillers of earlier wore off. He yawned, blinking his eyes to try to clear the fog out of them.
"You need to sleep," Jarrod said gently, beginning to steer him toward his bedroom.
Sounded good to him. Sounded great, in fact. Jarrod helped him through the door of his bedroom, and took him over to his bed. "You'll need my help getting out of your clothes," he remarked.
That brought Drew awake in a rush. He lifted his head. "Oh, really?" he asked hopefully.
Jarrod laughed at his expression, shaking his head. "I can't believe I never guessed that you're gay," he remarked in wry amusement, kneeling down to begin to attend to the snap and zipper at the front of the trousers that Drew was wearing.
"Well, I guess I'm just that good an actor," Drew replied with a faint chuckle. All of his attention was concentrated on the slender fingers undoing the front of his pants. He was nearly holding his breath as Jarrod began to ease them down off of his hips.
"Geez, Drew; you'd think you'd be too tired," Jarrod remarked, eyeing his face.
He realized that he had at least half an erection, in spite of his pain and weariness. He lifted his left shoulder helplessly. "I can't help it," he said. "I'm just a guy."
Jarrod laughed again, and the sight of it so enchanted him that the half-erection went full-blown. He drew in a shuddering breath. The catered noticed the movement under his boxers, and drew in a rather sharp breath of his own. "Sorry," he said contritely. "I'm trying to control myself, but..."
"It's all right, I understand," Jarrod told him. "Besides, I'll just take it as a compliment," he added with a crooked, sweet smile. He rose to his feet.
“Step out of those, and I'll see what I can do about what's left of your shirt."
Drew managed to get out of the trousers without tangling them in his feet, a miracle in itself. Jarrod's fingers went to work on the buttons at the front of his shirt, which didn't help his erratic breathing(or his raging erection) any! He was practically holding his breath as Jarrod eased the shirt off; he didn't have any problems, since the hospital had finished cutting away the arm of the shirt on the side where Drew had been struck. Jarrod stepped back with the mangled remains of his best shirt in his arms.
"Now, get into bed," he told Drew. "You need some sleep."
"Yes, Mommy," he teased, crawling in under his covers with care for the sling.
Jarrod giggled. "Do you need another painkiller?" he asked when Drew visibly grimaced as he shifted a bit.
"Yeah. Could you...?"
"Of course, I'll be right back," Jarrod bustled off to get him a glass of water and the bottle of painkillers the doctor had prescribed for him.
Drew leaned back against his pillows carefully, sighing. What a hellish, strange evening this had turned out to be! It was true that some good had come out of it - Steve was in jail, and would be for some time to come. And while his arm hurt like hell, at least it was permanently damaged. The bone wasn't even broken. And...while it might not have been wise to admit it, he'd finally told Jarrod how he felt about him. How he'd react to Drew's confession in the long-term remained to be seen, but for now he just felt relief about not only telling Jarrod how he felt, but also admitting that he was gay.
Jarrod came back with e bottle and a gals of water, and handed him two of the pills. He put them in his mouth, then Jarrod handed him the water. He gulped it down, feeling the water and the pills slide down his throat. Jarrod nodded and set the glass down on the bedside table. "Get some sleep, Drew," he said again.
"You do the same, Jarrod," he replied firmly.
Jarrod nodded. "I'm definitely ready for bed," he said wearily. "Or couch, in my case," he went on with a small grin. "Anyway, goodnight, Drew."
"G'night, Jarrod," he murmured, feeling sleep trying to draw him down now that the painkillers were kicking in. His eyes were closing, and he moved carefully to remove the sling from his bad arm and lay it on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Then he turned on his good side and snuggled down under his blankets, and was fast asleep in a few moments.
Jarrod stood and looked down at the man sleeping on the bed, his face contemplative. It had been such a strange, awful night, when it should have been an amazing celebration of the wrap-up of Drew's first feature film as a leading man. But at least the wretched Steve was in jail, and Drew wasn't badly hurt. If he had been... Jarrod didn't know how he would have lived with himself. Even though Drew had assured him that it wasn't his fault, he still felt guilty. Steve was his ex-boyfriend, after all. He'd never even have met Drew if it hadn't been for him. Jarrod sighed, then padded out into the living room to get ready for bed.
He thought about Drew's confession to him as he unfolded his blankets and draped them over the couch-bed. He'd been so shocked...the actor was not only gay, but in love with him?! Drew really WAS a good actor; he'd never even given Jarrod a hint of what he was feeling before this. He still had no idea how he felt about it all. He liked Drew, so very much. But only, up until now, as good friends. This change in their relationship(and how could it not change, after this evening?) was something that he'd have to have time to think about. But he knew that Drew would give him that time. He was such a nice guy! He'd admitted that he'd intended to wait for as long as it took for Jarrod to get over Steve before making his confession. How many men would have done something like that; would be such a true gentleman? Drew was one-of-a-kind.
He climbed into bed and covered himself up, sighing softly. Whatever he decided about how he felt about Drew, he knew that he'd always have their friendship. Even if he rejected Drew, the actor wouldn't cut ties with him completely. it would be hard on him, but he'd accept it if Jarrod told him that he just wanted to be friends. He felt a warm glow fill him. It was good to have such an amazing friend, even if it never turned into something else.
Drew awoke late in the morning the next day. He'd slept heavily all night long, but his arm throbbing woke him up. He sat up with a groan, rubbing at his face with his good hand. He reached out fro the bottle of painkillers on the bedside table, but then realized to his chagrin that he needed two good hands to open the bottle! Oh, fuck. He groaned again, gritting his teeth at how badly his arm was throbbing now.
His bedroom door opened, and Jarrod came bustling in. He was still wearing his pajamas, but he was carrying a tray with dishes and glasses on it. "Morning, Drew," he said cheerfully. "Is your arm hurting you?" he asked in concern as he came over to the bed.
"Yeah, it is. Could you open this?" Drew asked, holding up the bottle pathetically.
“Of course. Here," he laid the tray over Drew's knees, revealing that he'd made him breakfast in bed. He took the bottle and opened it, then gave two to Drew.
After he'd swallowed the pills, Jarrod pointed at the tray. "Eat as much as you can. You shouldn't take pills too often on an empty stomach," he said.
"Thanks. It smells great," Drew replied, awkwardly picking up his fork with his good left hand.
Jarrod picked up the sling, then surprised Drew by crawling carefully up onto the bed and helped Drew put the sling back on with gentle care. He felt deep gratitude as Jarrod sat down next to him on the bed. "I thought we could eat breakfast together," he explained. "I've already called in at work, so we can take our time."
Sounded good to Drew. Sounded great, in fact. He was all too acutely aware of Jarrod's slim body next to his, and the warmth of it separated from him by only the t-shirt and flannel pants that Jarrod was wearing. He tried to concentrate on the food instead, but it wasn't easy.
Jarrod picked up his own plate from the tray and began to eat his breakfast. "Cid called a bit earlier to see how you're doing," Jarrod commented after a moment's companionable silence. "I told him you were good, except your arm hurts. He said for me to tell you that reporters might show up at your door sometime today," he added with a faint grimace.
Drew did some grimacing of his own. "Great," he muttered. Jarrod threw him a commiserating look.
"Cid said to tell you that the media are sharks, and that this kind of thing goes with the territory. He seemed pretty cheerful about the whole thing, though," he went on doubtfully.
Drew snorted. "That's because he's happy that this happened," he told Jarrod dryly.
Jarrod looked shocked. "What?! Why?!" he yelped.
Drew laughed mockingly. "Because it's great publicity," he told the caterer. "If I'd been badly hurt or killed, it would have been different. But since I wasn't, he sees this as a great opportunity to publicize our movie. 'Actor subdues man who attacks him for defending gay friend'," he said. "I'm sure he has headlines dancing in his head. It makes me look like a hero, and will make potential audiences both sympathetic and curious. So more people will go to see the movie than probably would have before this happened, and everybody wins. Or that's how Cid will see it, anyway."
Jarrod looked indignant. "That's awful!" he exclaimed.
Drew smiled crookedly. "That's Hollywood," he remarked in dry acceptance of the facts of life.
Due to the complete lack of reviews on my latest chapter, I have decided to take a month off from updating this site. See you on 5/06. -DL
"Wow, what a long night," Drew sighed as Jarrod helped him through the door of his apartment.
"Yeah," the caterer sighed wearily. They'd been at the hospital for hours, talking to the police and giving their formal statements. Both of them were exhausted, now that the adrenaline rush of earlier had worn off. Drew in particular was wavering on his feet, his head sunk nearly to his chest. His bruised arm was neatly encased in a sling, but it was starting to throb dully as the painkillers of earlier wore off. He yawned, blinking his eyes to try to clear the fog out of them.
"You need to sleep," Jarrod said gently, beginning to steer him toward his bedroom.
Sounded good to him. Sounded great, in fact. Jarrod helped him through the door of his bedroom, and took him over to his bed. "You'll need my help getting out of your clothes," he remarked.
That brought Drew awake in a rush. He lifted his head. "Oh, really?" he asked hopefully.
Jarrod laughed at his expression, shaking his head. "I can't believe I never guessed that you're gay," he remarked in wry amusement, kneeling down to begin to attend to the snap and zipper at the front of the trousers that Drew was wearing.
"Well, I guess I'm just that good an actor," Drew replied with a faint chuckle. All of his attention was concentrated on the slender fingers undoing the front of his pants. He was nearly holding his breath as Jarrod began to ease them down off of his hips.
"Geez, Drew; you'd think you'd be too tired," Jarrod remarked, eyeing his face.
He realized that he had at least half an erection, in spite of his pain and weariness. He lifted his left shoulder helplessly. "I can't help it," he said. "I'm just a guy."
Jarrod laughed again, and the sight of it so enchanted him that the half-erection went full-blown. He drew in a shuddering breath. The catered noticed the movement under his boxers, and drew in a rather sharp breath of his own. "Sorry," he said contritely. "I'm trying to control myself, but..."
"It's all right, I understand," Jarrod told him. "Besides, I'll just take it as a compliment," he added with a crooked, sweet smile. He rose to his feet.
“Step out of those, and I'll see what I can do about what's left of your shirt."
Drew managed to get out of the trousers without tangling them in his feet, a miracle in itself. Jarrod's fingers went to work on the buttons at the front of his shirt, which didn't help his erratic breathing(or his raging erection) any! He was practically holding his breath as Jarrod eased the shirt off; he didn't have any problems, since the hospital had finished cutting away the arm of the shirt on the side where Drew had been struck. Jarrod stepped back with the mangled remains of his best shirt in his arms.
"Now, get into bed," he told Drew. "You need some sleep."
"Yes, Mommy," he teased, crawling in under his covers with care for the sling.
Jarrod giggled. "Do you need another painkiller?" he asked when Drew visibly grimaced as he shifted a bit.
"Yeah. Could you...?"
"Of course, I'll be right back," Jarrod bustled off to get him a glass of water and the bottle of painkillers the doctor had prescribed for him.
Drew leaned back against his pillows carefully, sighing. What a hellish, strange evening this had turned out to be! It was true that some good had come out of it - Steve was in jail, and would be for some time to come. And while his arm hurt like hell, at least it was permanently damaged. The bone wasn't even broken. And...while it might not have been wise to admit it, he'd finally told Jarrod how he felt about him. How he'd react to Drew's confession in the long-term remained to be seen, but for now he just felt relief about not only telling Jarrod how he felt, but also admitting that he was gay.
Jarrod came back with e bottle and a gals of water, and handed him two of the pills. He put them in his mouth, then Jarrod handed him the water. He gulped it down, feeling the water and the pills slide down his throat. Jarrod nodded and set the glass down on the bedside table. "Get some sleep, Drew," he said again.
"You do the same, Jarrod," he replied firmly.
Jarrod nodded. "I'm definitely ready for bed," he said wearily. "Or couch, in my case," he went on with a small grin. "Anyway, goodnight, Drew."
"G'night, Jarrod," he murmured, feeling sleep trying to draw him down now that the painkillers were kicking in. His eyes were closing, and he moved carefully to remove the sling from his bad arm and lay it on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Then he turned on his good side and snuggled down under his blankets, and was fast asleep in a few moments.
Jarrod stood and looked down at the man sleeping on the bed, his face contemplative. It had been such a strange, awful night, when it should have been an amazing celebration of the wrap-up of Drew's first feature film as a leading man. But at least the wretched Steve was in jail, and Drew wasn't badly hurt. If he had been... Jarrod didn't know how he would have lived with himself. Even though Drew had assured him that it wasn't his fault, he still felt guilty. Steve was his ex-boyfriend, after all. He'd never even have met Drew if it hadn't been for him. Jarrod sighed, then padded out into the living room to get ready for bed.
He thought about Drew's confession to him as he unfolded his blankets and draped them over the couch-bed. He'd been so shocked...the actor was not only gay, but in love with him?! Drew really WAS a good actor; he'd never even given Jarrod a hint of what he was feeling before this. He still had no idea how he felt about it all. He liked Drew, so very much. But only, up until now, as good friends. This change in their relationship(and how could it not change, after this evening?) was something that he'd have to have time to think about. But he knew that Drew would give him that time. He was such a nice guy! He'd admitted that he'd intended to wait for as long as it took for Jarrod to get over Steve before making his confession. How many men would have done something like that; would be such a true gentleman? Drew was one-of-a-kind.
He climbed into bed and covered himself up, sighing softly. Whatever he decided about how he felt about Drew, he knew that he'd always have their friendship. Even if he rejected Drew, the actor wouldn't cut ties with him completely. it would be hard on him, but he'd accept it if Jarrod told him that he just wanted to be friends. He felt a warm glow fill him. It was good to have such an amazing friend, even if it never turned into something else.
Drew awoke late in the morning the next day. He'd slept heavily all night long, but his arm throbbing woke him up. He sat up with a groan, rubbing at his face with his good hand. He reached out fro the bottle of painkillers on the bedside table, but then realized to his chagrin that he needed two good hands to open the bottle! Oh, fuck. He groaned again, gritting his teeth at how badly his arm was throbbing now.
His bedroom door opened, and Jarrod came bustling in. He was still wearing his pajamas, but he was carrying a tray with dishes and glasses on it. "Morning, Drew," he said cheerfully. "Is your arm hurting you?" he asked in concern as he came over to the bed.
"Yeah, it is. Could you open this?" Drew asked, holding up the bottle pathetically.
“Of course. Here," he laid the tray over Drew's knees, revealing that he'd made him breakfast in bed. He took the bottle and opened it, then gave two to Drew.
After he'd swallowed the pills, Jarrod pointed at the tray. "Eat as much as you can. You shouldn't take pills too often on an empty stomach," he said.
"Thanks. It smells great," Drew replied, awkwardly picking up his fork with his good left hand.
Jarrod picked up the sling, then surprised Drew by crawling carefully up onto the bed and helped Drew put the sling back on with gentle care. He felt deep gratitude as Jarrod sat down next to him on the bed. "I thought we could eat breakfast together," he explained. "I've already called in at work, so we can take our time."
Sounded good to Drew. Sounded great, in fact. He was all too acutely aware of Jarrod's slim body next to his, and the warmth of it separated from him by only the t-shirt and flannel pants that Jarrod was wearing. He tried to concentrate on the food instead, but it wasn't easy.
Jarrod picked up his own plate from the tray and began to eat his breakfast. "Cid called a bit earlier to see how you're doing," Jarrod commented after a moment's companionable silence. "I told him you were good, except your arm hurts. He said for me to tell you that reporters might show up at your door sometime today," he added with a faint grimace.
Drew did some grimacing of his own. "Great," he muttered. Jarrod threw him a commiserating look.
"Cid said to tell you that the media are sharks, and that this kind of thing goes with the territory. He seemed pretty cheerful about the whole thing, though," he went on doubtfully.
Drew snorted. "That's because he's happy that this happened," he told Jarrod dryly.
Jarrod looked shocked. "What?! Why?!" he yelped.
Drew laughed mockingly. "Because it's great publicity," he told the caterer. "If I'd been badly hurt or killed, it would have been different. But since I wasn't, he sees this as a great opportunity to publicize our movie. 'Actor subdues man who attacks him for defending gay friend'," he said. "I'm sure he has headlines dancing in his head. It makes me look like a hero, and will make potential audiences both sympathetic and curious. So more people will go to see the movie than probably would have before this happened, and everybody wins. Or that's how Cid will see it, anyway."
Jarrod looked indignant. "That's awful!" he exclaimed.
Drew smiled crookedly. "That's Hollywood," he remarked in dry acceptance of the facts of life.