Disclaimer: I do not know Jake Gyllenhaal, Heath Ledger, or any of their friends, relatives, etc. You may find a detail or two sounding like facts, but listen up, this story is pure fabrication. All factual details are obliterated when read within the context of the story. I’m writing for pure entertainment and the source is my imagination.

Today, it’s move day. Jake is moving into my home. Nah, it’s our home now. It’s been coming for a long time. I knew back then Jake was dangerous to me, from the time we stayed up there in Calgary making a film that would change our lives.

I’m already on the stairs making the first gesture, humping up two rather large suitcases filled with clothes and whatever. One of the suitcases belongs to him.

There’s a thumping noise behind me and I hear a sudden shout out. “Move out of the way, old man.” I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. Jake rushing up and he knocks me into the wall off to my right side, and then he squeezes his body between the railing and me, the one piece of luggage he carries bounce off my leg. Of course the luggage is his. God, he’s such a flake.

“I’m only two years older, goofball.”

He leans over a smirk on his face staring at me. “You’re just jealous. Not everyone can be young and handsome such as moi.”

His face is just this close to me. Temptation is futile (I read that in a script) and I couldn’t resist what’s in front of me, so I decided to take advantage of the situation. I lick his mouth. Not to be outdone, he smooches me right back, and then takes off, laughing evilly.

I watch him, filling up my eyes with the sight of a broad back and slim hips, rounding the curve of the stairs until he’s out of sight. Only then do I restart for my original destination before I was rudely interrupted by one lovely man. He doesn’t like being called lovely, says it sounds like I’m describing a girl. When I’m not in the mood and Jake picks on me, I use his Achilles’ heel: Have a nice day, lovely. What’s for dinner, lovely? A man has to have means for deflecting the jokester.

We’d been traveling all day to New York, after I spent a month in LA helping Jake pack up furniture and clothes, helping him with choices of what to take with him and what should be put into storage. Some items he gave away to his friends, Matt and Austin, a few others, and to his parents.

During the entire visit, I harassed Donna, my PA, at least twice a week for a progress report. I drove her crazy while I was in New York. “Go and pester Jake. I’ll have everything ready when you two come home,” she pleaded. I smile remembering her words. I like Donna and keep her on the payroll to handle my business even when I’m not filming. We’ve established an easy rapport and she ignores me when I get moody or offensive. She takes my shit in stride.

Now that we’re back in NY, she was probably home kicking up her heels and drinking a glass of wine to this monumental event. A bonus maybe in the offering if all goes well.

I look up and down the hallway and don’t see Jake, so I assume he has gone on to the master bedroom. Anticipation sends butterflies to my stomach thinking on Jake’s reaction at the surprise awaiting him there in the bedroom. Will he appreciate it? This question has been bothering me since we boarded the plane in LA. If it were my nature I’d bounce down the hallway in excitement but this describes Jake, not me. I’ve come to terms I will never be the exuberant type, or the nice person wearing rose-colored glasses like a certain person I know.

The door to the bedroom stands halfway opened. I lay my shoulder on it and push it, wide enough for my suitcases and me to go through the door. Darkness hits me. Not what I expected, just like the seed of annoyance growing in my chest at Jake’s apparent lack of consideration. He could’ve at least turned on the lights. Sometimes I think he takes practical jokes too far and as I’m making silent complaints inside my head, I brace myself for a body attack.

Nothing happens. I set the suitcases down and reach behind me to flip the switch for the lights. The lights reveal Jake is not within sight. “Where ever you are,” I say, “come out.” I peep inside the walk-in closets, back track across the bedroom to look in the master bathroom. I think I’m going to kill Jake our first night home.

Because now he has me searching the bedrooms and still Jake remains elusive. I walk down to the other end of the hall, getting peeved, and open up the door to the last room. Jake is there standing by the window, looking out.

“Did you get lost, luv?” I ask, thrusting my hands into my jeans’ pocket. I lean against the doorjamb, wondering why Jake is hanging out in this room.

“The refrigerator is fully stocked,” he says, glancing over at me.

“That’s good,” I tell him. “We won’t have to go out food shopping.” Smart girl, that Donna. I wasn’t looking forward to going to the supermarket. I could sleep for a week. I need routine. Haven’t felt normal for months now.

“The view is beautiful from here,” Jake says. He’s back to staring out the window. “How come I don’t remember seeing it?”

“Don’t know. Don‘t spend any time in this room.” I love the gardens. Cold or hot, I go out there and sit and think and let the peace there settle over me. It’s my private Eden away from a close city of people, bricks, cars, and noise, when the city gets too overwhelming.

“Why not?”

“I’ve everything I need in the other bedroom. There’s the Jacuzzi in the master bath. You do remember don’t you? The other room has more space and the view of the gardens is just as great.” I rub against the doorjamb to scratch the itch annoying my back. “Why the questions about bedrooms?”

“This is large enough.” Jake’s eyes are roaming over the room.

“True. Nothing like the cardboard box I used to sleep in at home,” I say, smiling.

“Australia?”

“That would be the place. What’s going on, G?” He seems change, his mood quiet and deliberate. I recognize the body language. Something is troubling him but I don’t have a clue what’s causing it.

“I want to move into this room.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me.” Now he moves away from the window, slowly making his way to the bed, and when he sits down, his hands clasp together between his legs.

I stay by the door, confused at the unexpected request. We’ve just arrived here, our first night together as a committed couple and he wants his own bedroom. What does this mean? Have I done something wrong? Damn.

I went to Jake and plop down on the bed next to him. “Why here?” I ask trying to keep my voice even tempered. “Because of the gardens?”

“Well now you know.”

“Jake…” I moan. “What the hell happen between the first and second floors? We were fine.”

“I saw this room. I like it. I want to move in it. The view is great, just like you said, man.”

Every word he utters sound fucking lame. “Okay. I get it. You want your own room.” I stand up, blood rushing to my head. This isn’t what I envisioned – Jake in one bedroom and me in another – as if he’s renting space from me. I pace the floor and then I realize I was pacing the floor. I bring my thumb to my mouth and begin biting the hangnail. That’s better, frustration taken out on a nail, the pain aids in keeping me levelheaded.

I stop pacing and place my body in front of Jake who’s looking down, hiding away from me. Is there something more interesting down there on the floor? You got some explaining to do I want to say.

He hasn’t looked at me since I came to the bedroom. With amazing clarity I talk to the top of his head. “It’s all right, G. I understand what you need. You’ve changed your mind and this is your way of telling me. Don’t drag it out. Get on with it and tell me straight up.” Then I move away. I want to hit something; yell at something; I want us to go back to LA and start over again.

“Heath?” I hear. “Sit the fuck down.”

I couldn’t obey fast enough. I rush over to his side, bumping knees sitting down, but I don’t touch him with my hands.

“This isn’t about you. Not really.” He’s twisting his hands, one over the other, into a tight ball.

“What is it? Can I help? Did someone threaten you?” I’m so relieved he asked me to come to him; I’m pulling at straws. He has been receiving threatening fan letters since we came out to the public.

“I should be over this by now. Water under the dam. I ran up the stairs. It all came rushing back at me, Heath. I walked down the same hallway with so much hope, willing to concede to your wishes, and there you were in bed with her.”

“Please…” My voice trails off. Oh fuck, not this. I don’t want to hear this, don’t want to listen. I thought we’ve gotten beyond my stupid-assed duplicity.

“No hear me out. It may seem childish, and yeah, I know I said I forgive you. This house was like my second home. I helped you move in, helped you decorate it. Even some of my stuff is still here. She left a part of herself in my place, and I fucking hate it. Do you hear me. I hate it.”

He speaks while the heel of his hand rubs over his eyes, pressuring down on them.

I reach out to move his hand away from his face. Let my fingers trail down to his neck, stroking the soft skin there. Despite what Jake has said, I did have something to do with this. Over a total stranger. I don’t even remember the woman’s name. She’s back to haunt us, to mess up the best relationship I will ever have.

My fault, I think, shaking my head. A quick lay to drown out my pity wasn’t worth it. I should’ve hunt him down, never let him leave NY after he walked out on me.

But you were a damn chook, too coward to admit you were afraid. Isn’t that the real reason why you moved clear across the country. Didn’t want anyone finding out you were in love with a man. Shit has a way of coming right back at you when you least expected it.

And there are parts of me I will never explain to Jake. They would hurt too badly.

We sit quietly each with our thoughts, my fingers still stroking Jake, keeping him close to me. I think I might have the solution to our dilemma and sleeping in separate bedrooms won’t solve the problem.

“I broke my promise to you,” I hear myself telling Jake. I can tell him this so he’ll know I do love him.

“What promise?” He hasn’t moved away from under my fingers but he hasn’t looked at me either. Jake can be quiet at the oddest times.

I absorb every single detail of his side profile, taking in the line of his mouth, lips, nose, and the thick eyebrows above the sad puppy dog eyes. A look I put on that face. Jake is intelligent and sensitive, gives himself over when I think he should be more reserve. He deserves better.

“I made this promise when we first got together. I would treat you better than Kiki and George. I would watch over you and make you happy. I fucked up bad, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. Shit happens and we found ourselves on this other road, speeding to a place we don’t want to be in. The promises we make in sincerity broken like shattered glass. How can I expect more when nothing seems to work to my liking.” And his head drops further down slipping away from my hand.

What I said next is what I clearly think is best. “I’m sorry. Maybe we’re not ready to make the big move-in together. Maybe you need time alone to think. I can wait.” Will wait forever if necessary.

“Shit.” Jake is up off the bed. He grabs my hand and pulls me up to a standing position.

We skip out of that bedroom in a whirlwind. My hand is held in a tight grip, bordering on pain. Jake is determined and I stumble wordlessly and hit my knee on the chair sitting in the hallway. “Ow.” Stupid chair.

“Come on,” Jake demands, pulling me, leaving me no choice but to follow him even as I try to steady myself.

We’re heading straight for the master bedroom and when we reach just inside the door, Jake stops moving and I run up against his back. The grip loosens and my hand drops to my side. “Whoa,” Jake says.

I hang back by the door, twisting my arms around my chest, hugging myself as Jake walks further into the room. It’s nice and it’s too late. Jake is leaving me.

“When did this happen?” he asks. He stands there with fingers fanning on his hips, eyes traversing the room.

“While I was with you in LA.”

He walks over to the floor lamp and sweeps a hand down the long curved silver pole. “I didn’t see this downstairs. I thought you had gotten rid of it.”

“That’s amazing, G. Why would I throw away your gift?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because I’m a dumbass, maybe.”

We laugh, the air lightens up and I breathe a little.

He goes to the center of the bedroom, snaps a finger and does a complete spin on the ball of his toes. Now that’s the Jake I know. His reaction gives me the courage to ask, “Do you like it?” I’m not going to ask: are you staying? Nor will I say: don’t leave me. The visual I have of Jake right now is competing with the one of a few minutes ago. Seems like another time and I don’t want to spoil it.

“You did this on purpose? Jake gives me a sharp look.

“Yes.”

“Damn,” he says, and I’m not sure I know what he means.

I have eyes only for Jake, though. I’m getting a kick seeing how he’s moving around the bedroom like a five-year old kid. It seems so simple to me. He picks up a picture of him and me and stares at it. He swipes a hand over the gleaming empty bookshelf I asked Donna to purchase. I dislike tripping over books on the floor. With Jake, books on the floor or covering up the entire table, none of it matters to him. I planned on having this long and serious discussion about the nature of orderliness. He lays back on this huge brown leather lounger, one foot on the floor, the other leg resting on the chair, and he presses the remote control to the new entertainment center. TV – on and off; radio – on and off, CD player – on an off. The style is kind of old folk to me. Wonder what Donna had in mind when she purchased that chair. My imagination conjures up interesting positions like Jake in my lap. Now I’m smirking. Ah, Donna, you naughty girl. We’re gonna have a discussion the next time I see you. Then, as though Jake is tire of playing with the gadgets, he walks over to the bed and put both hands flat on the bedcovers, testing the strength of the mattress.

He discovers I’m alive and I get such an intense look, the butterflies that were once dread turn lecherous. Oh yeah, I can get with that look, that walk, that blue narrow-eyed focus on me. It hurts looking at Jake, but Jake could carve me up with those eyes and the pain would be beautiful.

“This room is fucking fantastic,” he says, standing in front of me inches apart, breathing down on me. “You did this for us?”

“I did it for you.” I say. Yep, Donna definitely earns a bonus.

He fits his entire body on me, gluing himself to me so that I’m forced to lean back against the wall. He places a hand on the wall on each side of my head. He has me imprisoned. I’m captured by him and his body, and he moves on me, pressing his hips down on the spot that reminds me we’re good at something else. My breath comes out short and shallow. I’m pushing forward, feeling good. Our foreheads are together, neither one of us is doing any talking, we’re just moving in synch to an old, silent music, music we built with our bodies.

“Jake…”

He covers my mouth and swallows my words. The kiss intensifies, my head is pressing back on the wall. He’s moving and this time he wiggles an arm behind my back, pulls me into him, and he kisses me down the side of my face to my neck. I grip his hips tight with my fingers.

“It’s like you read my mind. Like you knew how I felt. I’m in awe of you,” he whispers in my ear.

What is he saying? The brain cells go south and I’m getting hot and sweaty and quite frankly, I’ve other thoughts on my mind. “I want you.”

“Do you,” he says, pulling back.

“Oh yeah.” I pull the hand from around my back and put it on my dick.

“See that gorgeous sleigh bed over there?”

“Yes.” Jake whole hand covers me, the fingers applying pressure, teasing me, it isn’t enough.

“Why don’t we christen it, baby.”

“Not a bad idea, luv” I say, and push into his hand.

Shoes, socks, and clothes come off, thrown to the floor like a trail from hell to heaven. We push, poke, grab each other, stumbling some as our legs and arms entangle. The bedroom holds sounds that are pure joy to me – giggles, moans, a hitch of breath. They exemplify how it should be, how I envisioned our homecoming.

When I get Jake to the bed, I take the upper hand and push him flat on his back. He uses his feet to scoot back and leave them flat on the bed, knees up, legs open. I place a hand on each leg, brushing the inside, touching his hot spots, feeling the legs twitch. Those knobby knees are a particular kink of mine. I crawl on to the bed, raising one of his legs, and kiss the underside of his knee. Jake wraps the other leg around my hips and tightens. “Come on, Heath. I need you down here.”

“Are we in a hurry?” I say, teasing him with another kiss. It’s my turn to make him hot, tune him to the taste of fine wine.

“We’re going to make this bed ours. Yours and mines, Heath. Make it like someplace new.”

“I got you, G.” I understand now Jake’s concerns and hurt. “This is our space and it belongs to no one but us. We’re starting over again.”

“Yeah, baby,” and he pulls me down giving me a kiss that makes me so hard I can hang a hat on it.

The room smells of raw sex, two bodies, new paint, and new furniture, mingling into one scent. We’ve been at each other throughout the night.

“Think I should have Donna buy us a fancy sign that say, ‘Here be Jake and Heath’s room,’ and have her hang it outside our bedroom door.” I’m brushing my fingers through his hair.

He twists around on my shoulder and staring up at me. “Don’t be an ass.” Then he says, “You know, that might not be a bad idea.”

“I couldn’t let you come back to the old room, G,” I say, staring down at him.

“I know and I love you for it.” Jake shifts up in the bed and pokes out his lips for a kiss.

I oblige him and let my body slide down to his side, pushing my leg between his. I whisper words in his ear and reaching back, searching the bed until I find it.

I slam the lube in his open palm. “Open it and put some in my hand.”

And kiss his lips trembling under my pressure as I spread the stuff over his hardening dick. He’s moaning. I tell him to slow down, luv, take deep breaths. I want him to be able to last.

When I think Jake can’t stand another touch, I lie down on my back and open up for him, drawing him over my chest. His eyes are unfocused, dreamy like. He’s surprise at my offering but I also think it’s lust making his eyes gleam, we are hot for one another. He crawls over me, kissing me on my chest, takes nips at my nipples, which sends shivers down my spine. “Oh.” I reach down and touch myself, bring my leg up further, my foot flat on the bed. Jake works both nipples, then scoots down leaving a trail of cool, wet, kisses over the chest and stomach.

A hand that’s not mine joins me and together we’re going up and down my length, fingers entwined. It feels so damn good, I’m throbbing, getting harder with each stroke. “I can’t take much more,” I say, barely. Not with him breathing on it, teasing me with his tongue.

“How are you doing?” He’s slipping a finger in me.

“I’m okay,” and hitch forward taking more of his finger.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yeah,” and I tell him to come here so I can apply more lube on him.

I think he knows I wanted it this way because Jake slides over my body without asking how or which position. I’m on my back, bringing up my knees and he’s going in, easy and slow, I pant letting my body become accustom to his size and having him inside of me.

“Ah…I’m there, Heath.” His mouth drops open and I reach up touching his lips and feeling the vibrations of his sounds against my skin.

“Yes, luv.” Relax now that I have him, I raise my legs and wrap them around his hips.

It isn’t often I receive and once I’m over the initial burn, I think, why the hell not. It’s hard for me to put in words what Jake does to me. He makes me feel weak and strong at the same time. Makes me want to give up everything I have to him. I want to hold him down on me, to feel the pounding of his body into me, to tighten the grip I have on his dick as he strokes in and out of me. I want Jake happy and I want his love.

“I can’t hold on, baby,” he says, picking up the pace.

“Give it to me, luv,” I say, gripping him tight and kissing the parts of him available to my mouth.

He buries deep inside me, his whole body tense and then let go. I follow him, spurting my climax on my stomach and on my hand. I ease my legs down as all of Jake’s weight falls on my body.

He wraps arms around me and buries his nose in my neck, tonguing me as if petting me. “I love you, Jake,” I say, shifting his weight on me and my fingers twisting his sweaty hair strands.

“Ditto,” he says. His voice is warm, soft, and sleepy.

I’m not ready to sleep just yet. Jake has crashed; his light snoring fills the room. Poor baby, I’ve worn him out. I shift in the bed and raise up on an elbow to study all the changes in the room. I like the cool gray-colored walls and the position of the bed in front of the huge window. It might be a bitch come morning with the sun beaming through the large window.

Jake snuggles close to my body, and he moans. I soothe him, patting him across the shoulders. He settles down under my ministrations. The draperies catch my attention; they are almost the same color as the walls. Later I’ll examine them, hoping they will cover the window and shut out unwanted light. This room is nice, more than I expected, and I think Jake and I will be spending most of our time here. We made a good start.

I had better get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day and I know a certain person will wake up energetic and cheerful and be ready to drill me with questions.

End

Summary: Jake makes an announcement to his mother. Sequel to One Simple Request.
Disclaimer: None of this is real. Absolutely not. I’m borrowing Jake, Naomi, and others for pure entertainment purposes and will let them kindly go back to their lives when I’m done.

Health flew back to New York several days later. He couldn’t put off going back home any longer if he wanted to audition for a part in a new movie. It was a fact as actors, there were going to be times they won’t see each other. Jake knew this, accepted it, the truth didn’t make him feel any better. Because, hell, he was going to miss his baby. They’d resolved their differences and he couldn’t wait until he’d packed up his stuff to move in with Heath.

Jake’s head was hanging up there with the stars. Nothing could destroy his exuberance, the joy he felt, the knowledge Heath actually came after him. It was an accident, really. Circumstances forcing their emotions to the surface and let out exposed, when their reconciliation should’ve been private.

It was more than Jake had ever wanted or expected from Heath. This public acknowledgment. What he wanted was simple. Ordinary things, like waking up and going to sleep with Heath. Maintaining a home together. Cooking for Heath (he could to stand to gain weight.) Discovering all the idiosyncrasies one couldn’t know without living together.

Jake was looking forward to the move to New York. “Yeah.” He punched the air with his fist, brought it down, and wrapped the fingers around the steering wheel as he cruised down the LA highway. He loved the over-crowded, gritty city, but he would miss LA, friends and, family. Jake would have to call Maggie and tell her little brother would become a permanent fixture in NY. Could hear her reaction. It’s about fucking time.

There was one person Jake wasn’t too thrilled in telling the news. His mother. His father he could depend on for support. Stephen knew about Heath and Jake’s troubles. Said he didn’t understand the dynamics of men falling in love with men, reminding Jake about the difficulty his gay friends had just staying together. But he loved his son. Thought Heath was okay. He’d also told Jake he knew about burying pain. “Drinking yourself into a stupor won’t change a damn thing,” Stephen had told Jake. “It’s kind of interesting, though. The shit you guys are going through isn’t much different between man and woman.”

The drinking didn’t help.

If it weren’t for hanging out with Matt and Lance, and Matt’s crude remarks, “Hey Bro, I do believe you’re trying to steal away my thunder. No one drinks me under the table.” And no one sat around, alone and nude in an apartment, banging on the drums either. Jake got the point. Move on or do something about the situation. Being drunk and bike riding don’t mix well. Still, he’d told Matt, he didn’t have a drinking problem. He had a boyfriend problem.

Eyes on the road, Jake’s hand slid down to pick up the ringing cell phone. “Hello,” he said, after pressing the call button.

“Are you free now, dude”

“How the hell did you know?”

“Got a call,” Matthew said on the other line. “Told me he saw you and Heath at LAX.”

“Word gets around fast.”

“You know it. Still can’t believe in what you guys did at my place. The buzz is rapid.”

“Do I detect a problem here?” Matthew had been nothing but a friend to Jake, although, he said a few uncomplimentary remarks about Heath.

“Not me. You know me. Whatever floats your boat. Believe in doing what feels good. Like I told Heath, you got to be careful. Not everyone as sweet and as accepting as me.” Matthew laughed.

“It’s not my problem. Either they deal or they can leave me the fuck alone.”

“I hear you, bro. Look. I called to see if you want to ride.”

“When?”

“Lance is planning a trip tomorrow. Since I know loverboy has gone home, I thought you’d be interested.”

“Hold on.” Jake maneuvered the car in the traffic driving onto the exit ramp.

“Okay,” said Jake. “You do realize Heath isn’t going anywhere. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Just tell him to keep his snarls to himself. I’m not after your gorgeous ass.”

Jake bursts out laughing. He had to grip the cell phone to keep it from slipping from between his fingers. Thank God, the red light caused him to brake the car. “Maybe he has the right to be snarly.”

“Cold day in hell. Your ass maybe beautiful but I prefer them soft, rounded, padded with just the right amount of meat. Hard assed muscles don’t do shit for me.”

Jake decided he’d better pull over to the side of the curb before he had an accident. “Man, you’re fucking sick.” Jake couldn’t stop laughing. Between the chuckles, he said, “Tell Lance I’ll be there.”

“Got it. The three musketeers are back together again.” Then Matt gave Jake the details for the meet up.

Naomi was in the kitchen spooning coffee into the coffee maker. She turned around and seeing Jake, Naomi smiled. He grabbed her by the shoulders and plopped a big kiss on her cheek.

“Hi, mom,” he said, putting elbows on the kitchen counter behind him. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like, smartass?” She grinned indulgently. Her eyes narrowed searching Jake’s face. “Do you want a cup?”

“Sure.” Jake walked over to the island in the middle of the kitchen. He grabbed a stool, sat down, watching his mother work.

“What brings you here early in the morning?”

“It’s almost eleven,” he said, his fingers fidgeting with a saltshaker.

“Unless you’ve stayed overnight, we don’t usually see you till the evening.” A cabinet door opened and down came the plates. Naomi brought them over and sat them down on the island. She headed over to another part of the countertop and picked up a cake dish. Jake could see he was in for a treat.

It appeared as though Naomi was bringing out the ammunition, the let’s get Jake warm and fuzzy. She knew how much he loved German Chocolate cake. The creamy chocolate went straight through his veins like a shot of good feel, almost as good as Heath nurturing a certain part of his body. She knew he had cut back on eating junk food.

“The look on your face,” she said. “It’s dreamy. What’s going on?” Naomi cut a large-sized slice of cake and handed to him on a plate.

“It’s a fabulous day. Haven’t you been out yet?” He got up to get the silverware while she brought over steamy hot coffee.

“Uh huh. You’re up to something.” Naomi sat in the stool next to Jake. “And to answer your question, of course, I’ve been out. Who else is going to walk the brats?”

“Ah. My babies. How are they?” Jake settled back down on his stool.

“Atticus and Boo are just fine. I swear, Boo, is worse than a child. You’ve spoiled that dog rotten. I think he forgets he’s a dog.” Naomi said, grumpily.

“You know you love Boo Radley.” Which was true. Naomi was the person who kept his dogs whenever he was out of town or involved in a project.

Jake closed his eyes at savoring the taste of creamy chocolate filling up his palate. Double dose of caffeine, a natural induced high. Delightful, he groaned. Would be nice to share with Heath imagining the chocolate being put to good use. Down boy.

“It must be good.” Jake’s eyes flew open and stared at his mom. “You’re purring. So tell me and stop keeping me in suspense.”

He let out a deep breath and then tasted the cake one more time, letting it remind him how good he felt, how it was with Heath last night.

“Where’s Dad?”

“In the study. Stop prevaricating, Jake. It doesn’t become you.”

He put down his folk and used his legs to twist him around on the stool to face his mother. She sat waiting with her fingers wrapped around the coffee cup. Large eyes, big and worldly, sharp, as though she knew Jake had something important to tell her.

So he went for the juggler and told it straight out. “Heath and I are back together.” And waited for the fallout.

“Umm… Not so surprising. You look happy. I haven’t seen joy on your face in months.”

“There’s more,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. “He asked me to move in with him.”

That took her for a surprise. Her eyes grew wide. “He did, did he.”

“Yeah,” Jake said, cautiously. He wondered why she hadn’t started the normal lecture on how this relationship with Heath would destroy his career and would make him miserable.

“I didn’t think he would go that far.” There was a look of dismay on her face. “Where are you going to live?”

“New York. Mom. I know you don’t approve of Heath and me. I wish for you it could be different but that’s not the way it’s going to be.”

Naomi turned completely around to face Jake. She ran a finger down the side of his face. “My concerns were not about you and Heath. I worry about you. Worry about your career. Had I been too liberal in raising you. Do you understand the consequences of your choice. Jake, I can’t help wanting to protect you.”

“I know.” And finally, he realized where his mother had been coming from. She didn’t dislike Heath. “You’re going to have to let me go, found my way in life.”

“My baby is growing up.”

He kissed the palm of her hand and covered it between his larger hands. “Are you okay with this?”

“I guess I am. Didn’t know it would go so far with you moving in with him.” There was a gleam in her eyes as though she was more aware than he realized. Her easy acceptance after the many disagreements. Her manner in caressing him as though she was apologizing for contributing to his unhappiness.

Jake slid off the stool and hugged his mother. Perhaps too tight because she said, “You’re going to break an old woman’s bones.”

He laughed bringing relief to the tension in the air. “You’re not old,” he said, sitting back down on the stool.

“Go on. What do you know. I’m your mother.”

“A cool one at that.”

Mother and son settled down to finish their dessert. Jake groaning between bites of cake and sipping coffee.

The phone rang. His mother got up and answered the landline. Jake watched as the smile on her face faded, as her face turned pale.

“That was Kelly.”

Ah, his publicist. “What did she want?”

“Jake. She said she has been receiving death threats about you.”

End ( for now)

“Have you decided?” Jake couldn’t keep down the excitement.

“You know this a tough decision,” Maggie says.

“It’s going to be fantastic.”

“And weird, baby bro. For all of us.”

“You know I love you.”

“Yeah. You never fail to have your way with me.”

Jake grabs Maggie into a headlock. “Peter, Dad, and Mom okay with this?”

“They say we’re too damn close.”

“Come on, Sis. Tell me. Now.”

“I’ll do it.”

Screeching noise of joy. Jake twirls on his feet. “Wow. Heath and I are going to have a baby.”

“Uh huh.” Maggie says joining in the happiness.

In my quest to do more writing, I am doing the drabble challenge at community.

Water pounded his back, dripping over hair. Jake didn’t know what to do or think. Tried for excuses and failed miserably. “Blockhead.” The pelting water softened the sound of self-reproach. Can’t stay here, turning into a prune.

Rigid, hung-over, he opened the door wrapped in a large hotel towel. Waited to get his lights punched out.

“Come here, mate.” Hands pulled at him.

“You okay?”

Heath stripped Jake bare. “Yeah. Best pity party I’ve ever attended.” Fingers stroking down skin. “Now breathe.”

Jake did one better, he deep throat Heath with his tongue. Heath led him back to bliss.

Amazing.

Heath folds the dishcloth into a square and places the folded cloth on the top of countertop near the kitchen sink. Heath stands back making sure everything is in its place, when the phone rings interrupting his inspection.

“Hello”, he answers and tries not to let the disappointment come through to his voice. The people he cares the most about seldom call him at this number and the one person he wants to hear from wouldn’t even think about using the number to his landline.

“I realize I haven’t been exactly nice to you.”

“Oh. Hello to you too,” he says, surprised at hearing her voice.

“I think you should come to Los Angeles.”

“Huh? Something happened?”

“I guess you should know my influence has a limit.”

“You’re kidding me, right.” Heath’s short, stubby fingernails scrape back and forth over his buzz-styled haircut. A month ago, he asked his barber to shave off his hair. The idea came on him sudden, cutting off his hair, as though the change was some way of offering up his shame to the unsuspecting world. The barber talked Heath into a buzz cut instead.

The laugh that trickles through the phone line seems strained. “There was a time he would listen to me. I think mom have worn out her welcome and have been put firmly in her place.”

“Shit, I have no clue to what you’re talking about,” he says sarcastically, listening to her talk about herself in third person. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Have you been keeping up with the news?”

“Yes. Is this what have you worried?” Heath draws out a chair from beneath the kitchen table and sits down, spreading out long legs, crossing ankle over the other.

“Honestly. I am. I’ve wanted nothing but happiness and the best for my children. It’s difficult for me to sit back and watch something I feel will harm them, so…”

Heath sees her clearly in his mind; her shrugging her shoulders just like her son would do when he’s amused or confused.

“…I give unwanted advice”, she says and takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure about these people, Heath. He’s been down a lot, lately. I’m worried they’re taking advantage of his good nature when he’s not up to par. Do you know he came to our home, twice, two sheets to the wind. His father literally dragged him to the shower and cleaned him up. I want to say my opposition to you has never been about you as a person. I think you’re a fine man. A little crude to the public. But you’ve cleaned up just fine. I guess he has something of his mother in him.” She laughs softly.

“Thank you, Naomi, for your vote of confidence.” He accepts her apology, but there it is the mother lode of guilt and shame coming down on him. She didn’t know why her son was drinking and if she did, she wouldn’t be so kind to him. Even now it shocks him, thinking on that time he caused Jake pain.

“My pleasure, indeed. He won’t talk to me. Can you come to LA? I think he needs you.”

Heath didn’t have the heart to tell Naomi, Jake wouldn’t talk to him either.

The doors to the airport open up to a balmy Los Angeles day. LA doesn’t have the steamy humidity in its air like New York. With its broken-down concrete streets and tall-bricked buildings, soaking up the heat like asphalts parking lots. New York possesses historic character and aged old melting pot of cultures and traditions. Heath loves New York like no other place except his country of birth. People there seem less affected by the sight of celebrities than they do in Los Angeles. It’s a place Heath could just be.

While hailing for a taxi, Heath senses someone is watching him and he turns to find a glint of sparkle reflecting off a camera pointing at his direction. The cabbie drives up to the curb next to Heath. Heath glances over at the man taking his picture. Wouldn’t justice be served if he could just smash that camera into little pieces. Yeah, and a picture of you attacking the freaking camera would be in the tabloid in a heart’s beat.

Heath considers giving the man his middle finger but shakes his head. Not worth the trouble. Running afoul of the paparazzi would get him nothing but bad press. And that is not the reason why he came to Los Angeles.

The cabbie let Heath off at a six story brown brick building with green colored doorframes, double doors, and clear glass that takes up most of the space. He goes inside the building ignoring the concierge, who waves at him as he passes by. He isn’t inclined to starting up a conversation with the talkative man.

He rides up the elevator chewing on a hangnail. He walks down the empty corridor dragging his feet. He stops in front of the apartment, deeply breathing in and out, urging himself to stay calm.

The knock on the door is loud and in response he gets no answer. Heath tries again and this time he’s saying a prayer like please let Jake be home and please let him be alone. During the entire trip to LA, pictures of Jake with Lance Armstrong, and Matthew McConaughey haunted him. Even his publicist sent him snapshots of the trio, along with a message written on a post-it-note, asking, “Do you have the scoop on this?”

Jake wouldn’t do that to you, bud. We’ve unfinished business to take care of. Are you sure? It’s your fault and you deserve to lick Jake’s boots.

Shut up.

Finally Heath gives up the waiting and pulls out a key from the pockets of his jeans. When steps insides and closes the door behind him. All he sees…

Jesus.

The scene in front of him is not what he expected to see.

The scent of stale beer crawls up his sensitive nose. Newspapers are strewn over the floor. The floor is littered with beer cans are bent to half shape. The place is like a ready-made trash dumpster. Heath kicks a pair of sneakers out of his way and treads down the short hallway to the bedroom.

The bedroom is in slightly better condition than the rest of the apartment. His eyes travel to the spot on the night table where Jake keeps a picture of them together. It’s ritual for him to search for the picture because he’s reminded of a guardian angel. Jake and Heath watching over them, living and making love in their sacred temple.

The picture is gone. Heath stumbles on bedcovers hanging off the bed trying to trip him up. In its place is an astray of ashes and butts. Jake said he would keep that picture forever as reminder of to whom he belong to.

Shit. A strap hooked to the duffel bag he carries fall off his shoulders as he plops down onto the bed. The heel of his hand rubs across his eyes.

Might as well roll up the proverbial sleeves and clean up this dump.

Jake loves to cook. Heath loves to watch. He made a great show in distracting his lover from his task. He would push up against Jake’s back. Would wrap his arms around him until Jake complained. Then Jake would wiggle, pressing his ass into Heath’s growing dick. “You gonna set us on fire.”

“Not the kind of fire I’m looking for, J.” Heath would nip Jake on the neck.

“Screw dinner.” The stove knob twisted to off position and the pots moved to a cold burner. Jake turned and attacked Heath. Clothes fell off bodies and dropped to the kitchen’s floor. Laughter, snorts, and grunts sounded throughout the room. Jake in Heath’s lap, rode him fast and hard. Made Heath’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He asked for fire, he got exactly what he’d aimed for, the giving and receiving of intense pleasure. A beautiful way of starting the evening hours, loving Jake.

Spicy, herb scent threads invisibly into the air. The kitchen is his second favorite place to be whether he’s in NY or LA. Heath stirs the pot of spaghetti sauce thinking on how much he misses Jake.

Missed being with that crazy man with his eclectic taste in books and music, and his easygoing ways until he wants something badly. Attitude changes like a chameleon and Jake becomes as stubborn as a mountain. His stomach growls a rumble. “Yeah, getting to it”, he murmurs as he hears a door scrapes open.

“I smell food,” a voice says.

“Shiiit. Mom.” Jake yells.

“Mom. What are you?” Heath can’t place the voice but it does sound familiar. “About damn time, boy, someone cleaned up this dump.”

“Shut up.”

Jakes rushes into the kitchen ready to do battle with his mom, it seems. “Didn’t I tell you… Heath.” The boom in his voice goes two octaves lower.

“Hey there, mate”.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Came to be your personal maid. Didn’t you get word?”

“Fuck you.”

Shit. “You can do that too.”

“Hey y’all.” Blonde hair reveals itself over Jake’s shoulder. Rag-head wearing Matthew McConaughey. Does he ever part with that damn bandana? Heath doesn’t like Matthew touching Jake as if he has the right.

“Are you alone?” Jake’s head twists and turns, looking for something. Heath can guess at Jake’s thoughts. Wouldn’t that be just plain stupid of him to bring that along.

“Yeah,” he says, trying to ignore the smirk on Matthew’s face.

“You gonna introduce us?” Matt flings an arm around Jake’s shoulders and shakes him in a hardy manner.

Jake rolls his eyes at Matt and hangs onto Matt with arm across his back. “Matthew McConaughey this is Heath Ledger. Heath, Matt.”

Matt waves at Heath. “Hey, dude.”

Heath nods his head in acknowledgement. Stares at Jake holding Matt. He turns his back to them pretending to check on the food. But Heath is ablaze and not in lust. He picks up the spoon on the counter, his fingers wrapping around the handle, tightening into a fist.

“Whoa, now I call that a genuine brush off.”

“Will you be quiet.”

“Look man, I don’t know what’s going on here. That’s your problem. You coming to the party tonight or not?”

“Um, I don’t…”

“It’s in your best interest.”

Heath drops the spoon and whirls around back at Jake. “You got some place to go, Jake?”

“No need to get hostile, “ Matt butts in. He holds up the palm of his hands as though waving a white flag.

“What. Is he your agent or something? Heath directs his question to Jake.

“Well, see now. Jake is a friend of mine.” Matt says, putting his arm back around Jake’s shoulder. “You. I just met.”

“Fuck this.” Heath blows out of the kitchen, brushing pass Matt on his way out. He couldn’t stay or he would embarrass himself. Couldn’t stand to watch Jake, worshipping Matt.

He hears Matt say, “What bug crawled up his ass?”

And Jake conciliatory tone “We had a falling out…”

“So…”

“C’mon Matt. He flew in from New York. Have to see what’s up with him.”

“All right, man. You’re coming, right. There’s going to be women, booze, and shit. We’re gonna have a grand old time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here.” There’s the nervous laugh coming from Jake. “I’ll see you later, man.”

Voices fade, a door closes, Heath sits on the bed with his head in his hands. He has no right to blow up as he did. He can’t fix the problem if they are angry at each other.

“I see you’ve been busy.” Jake throws another pair of sneakers by the bed. Jake has a closet full of sneakers.

Heath’s neck cranes upward. “This place was like a pig sty. Where the fuck have you been?” Despite the heat coming out of his mouth, another kind of heat is stirring down below. Jake looks good in biker shorts. Long legs are thinner but muscular. Black spandex shaping over the place he’d love to bury his face in.

“None of your damn business, Ledger. You’re not my mother.” Jake tugs off his t-shirt. Heath leans back on the bed, elbows holding up his weight.

“If I was your mother, I would turn you over my knee and teach you better manners.”

Suddenly, Jake is in Heath’s face. Grabs a fist full of the shirt he’s wearing. “I would like to you see you try.”

Heath sits up, keeping Jake from ripping his shirt. His first instinct is to shove but the smell hits him full force in the face. “Damn, you smell like a fucking brewery. You drunk?”

“Apparently not drunk enough.”

“Courtesy of your new friends?” Heath presses down on Jake’s fingers and forces them open, and remove them from his shirt.

“At least they’re honest. Who the hell do you think you are barging into my home. Showing up like you own me.”

“Jake, I tried calling you. You haven’t…”

“Took you two fucking months to get up off your ass and show up here. You know what. I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going to take a shower.”

Jake storms off towards the bathroom. Heath jumps up from the bed following him. “Jake, wait. We have to talk.”

“Talk. You do anymore talking and I may fucking die.” Jake slams the door on Heath. Locks it, preventing Heath from storming in.

God, what a mess. He stretches down on the bed and rolls over to his back. Exhausted beyond comprehension. He’s remembering the image of Matt’s hands on Jake, and his Jake bobbing like a caricature in Matt’s arms. He hates Matt without even knowing the fella. He misses Jake with his whole being. He has to find a way through or God, he just don’t know what the hell he’s going to do.

It’s all too much for Heath. He tries to stay awake. He can’t fight the draining pull of stress, regrets, and loneliness. In a flash Heath is out cold.

The weight of a heavy thump jars Heath awake from a troubled void. The weight is moist and feels like pure skin. Smells like soap and Jake mixed in. He’s pinned him flat on his back to the bed. Heath hugs the weight to his body before he even open his eyes.

“I must be out of my mind but I fucking need this.”

Heath isn’t about to deny Jake nor his own needs, not when he has Jake right where he wants him. “Bring it on”, he says in a voice still dampen with sleep, and he spreads open his legs as far as his jeans will allow him. The muscles under his fingertips feel good to him as the nerves under the surface of the skin come alive, just touching Jake, massaging the sides of his chest, the palms of his hands slipping over and down the back, fingertips reaching the curve of Jake’s ass. Feels the tightening and the release of that ass as Jake rocks into Heath and Heath, restricted by his jeans, thrust up, meeting Jake. Like a man finally tasting water after long periods of thirst, Heath is hard for Jake. Wanting more, without Jake in his arms, Heath couldn’t survive.

Jake wiggles out of Heath’s arms and straddles his body, begins unbuttoning shirt and jeans. The entire time Jake avoids eye contact with Heath as he helps him removes his clothes. He does so in silence.

“How long?” Heath asks, needing to breakup the quiet. He tries to roll on top but Jake has other ideas. Keeps him pinned on his back.

“25 minutes or so. I sat in the chair and waited for you to wake up. Took too long. Don’t move, I’ve got this covered.” Warm breath grazes against the skin of his neck. A wet tongue licks below Heath’s ear.

“Little shit. You’re as demanding as ever,” he says, feeling better hearing Jake’s voice. That sweet voice that falls between manly and girly, the inflection of tone underlies the nature of Jake. Jake has never been the quiet type of guy. “Have your way with me.” And Heath stretches out his arms to the sides of the bed.

“I’m planning on it.” Jake slides over Heath, kissing down over his chest, planting wet lips on skin shivering from the things Jake are doing to him, like burying his face in Heath’s stomach and sticking the point of tongue in his navel. Heath’s back rises off the bed, it felt so damn good.

“I miss you,” Heath says, trailing fingers down side of Jake’s face into his beard.

“Shh… Don’t say a word Heath. Don’t think.”

Falling back on the bed, he thinks on the pain in that voice, and it causes Heath to tremble, remembering that he’s the reason for that pain. Can time travel backwards to the point when life was less complicated. He would do things differently and face head on the trouble rising between them.

Such a gift isn’t his to bestow. What Heath could do is offer up his body for Jake’s will and make him believe, he loves Jake. But now isn’t the time to tell Jake, he would have to reconnect through the simple act of making love.

“Come here, you,” and reaches down and pulls Jake up so they are face to face. His arms go around Jake and clasp the body in a tight hold, wrapping his long legs around the slim hips, keeping Jake imprisoned. Jake holds Heath’s face between the palms of his hands, fingers pushing through the strands of hair right above the ears. Blue eyes that are wide and sad-looking gaze directly into brown eyes. Then Jake is on him with his tongue forcing their way between Heath’s lips. A duel takes place, tongues sliding over each other, swiping across teeth, roaming over wet, soft surface.

Jake bites him on the lips and Heath knows it’s a form of punishment but the sharp sting goes straight to his dick. “God,” Heath says.

“Um…” Jake licks over the bitten lip as though soothing it. “Do you know what you do to me?”

“Yeah,” Heath groans.

They are hard for each other. Legs, arms, and hands entangle as they strained grasping each other. Couldn’t keep off each other, touching sensitive places, stroking down the long hard planes, digging into muscles, and breathing in each other’s air.

Jake is swallowing Heath down whole having moved smoothly out of Heath’s reach. He’s sucking Heath like a man starving for a Popsicle, going up and down the long column, teeth grazing lightly on the underside of his dick. Heath tries hard to not pump upward wanting to bury himself within the tight confine of that experience mouth, Jake knowing what he likes, how to make Heath scream if he wants to. “J. I’m going to blow,” he says, helplessly, the sheets balls up in his fist.

Jake drops him like a hot potato, a locomotive putting on sudden brakes, and rears back onto the flat of his feet straddling Heath. “Shit.” He’s taking in deep, ragged breaths. Moisture is dripping off his forehead. A hand palms Heath’s tight sack and squeeze, putting on the brakes there as well.

“I think you’re trying to kill me.”

“Maybe”, is all Jake says.

Whatever is going on inside the brains of his lover, Heath has no idea. There is something different about their making love, a slither of tension that isn’t part of them, what they are to each other. They’ve fought before. Make up sex after a fight was hot, sometimes rough, sometimes dominant. Heath has a need to touch Jake so he trails fingers down his stomach of his lover, who’s rocking on him, pressing down on his dick. Wraps fingers around the head sticking out at him, thumb gently, sliding over the slickness there.

Heath forms a fist around the hardness. Jake moves, sliding hips sliding back and forth. “Old God. Heath.”

“Yeah, baby. Love seeing you like this.”

Bending down kissing hips, Jake slips out of Heath’s hold. “Fuck me”. His body hovers over Heath as he searches for the lube in the night table beside the bed.

Heath prepares Jake. Jake pumps his hips up and down as a finger covered in lube stretches him open. “Do I need a condom?”

It’s a terrible question and one he wouldn’t have thought to ask before. Jake with eyes half-closed in desire, mouth is gapping open doesn’t miss a beat and whispers “No.”

Then he says, “I’m ready”, and pushes Heath down on the bed and lavish lube on Heath’s cock. Places his body at an angle of where he wants to go and thrust down.

They both moan as their bodies came together. Inch by inch Jake takes him inside, going down, easing up, hands clutching hands, strength holding strength. When Jake accomplishes his goal and covers the length of Heath’s hardness, he trembles, and Heath let go of the reins Jake has on him. He folds up his body and grasps Jake to him, and rolls him to his back to the bed. Jake opens up wide to Heath and wraps legs around his hips. Heath thrust once, fully seated again.

God, he’s… “You’re beautiful.” Heath tells Jake and licks at the gapping mouth, open in desire, inhaling the very breath Jake is breathing.

“Heath, Heath.” Fingers dig into muscles on the arm. “I’m gong to make you feel so good”, and then Jake slides his hands up Heath’s arms and up to his shoulders holding on.

“You do, baby.”

They rise to the edge of a precipice, neither one wanting to spill over. Jake is writhing under Heath, rising up, meeting his long and hurried strokes. Heath unable to deny the pain of pleasure any longer, he grabs hold to Jake’s dick and starts pumping. “Come for me.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yes.”

Jake comes totally apart thrashing underneath Heath. Heath cries out and feel his whole body exploding, his whole body trembling from loving Jake.

And when he gets the strength to lift up his head. Got to kiss my man, show him how grateful I am. Instead he sees eyes staring up at the ceiling in a glaze, tears rolling down the sides of his lover’s face.

Jake says in a tone of despair “Can she give you this?”

The kitchen walls are as white as the skin on Jake’s body. The wood trimming running across the four corners of the ceiling is the same color as Jake’s hair. The ceramic counter top is shaped into squares. The squares are of alternate colors of white, black, and blue. The blue reminds Heath of the color of Jake’s eyes.

This kitchen is no stranger to Heath and yet, he’s never thought about the color scheme, or about the correlation between the pale wall and the pale back staring back at him. But then he would’ve been right up there with Jake either helping him with the cooking or interfering with it, as was his usual way.

After Jake’s outburst, the guilt return and he’s at lost at what to say. Apparently Jake hasn’t forgiven him – what made him think it would be that easy. Jake said two words to Heath. “I’m hungry”, and rolled out of the bed and put on a pair of black silk underwear.

Following him minutes later into the kitchen, Heath sat down at the kitchen table and waited for a sign. He got the cold, silent treatment for his patience. Not once does Jake make eye contact with Heath. He moves back and forth in front of the kitchen countertop, chopping onions, boiling water for the pasta, the sound of the utilities he’s cooking with standing in place for the words refusing to come from his mouth.

When the knife hits the countertop, Heath jumps.

Unable to take it any longer he says, “Are you going to the party?”

“How long are you staying?” Jake avoids looking at Heath. He bends down to the cabinet below and pulls out the coriander.

“Leave tomorrow night.” Heath mutters while chewing his thumbnail.

“Why did you bother? God, I’m so fucking easy.” Jake places the coriander in the sink, removes the pot from the stove burner, and dumps the pasta into the coriander.

“No, Jake.” Heath brings his hand to his face and swipes across it. “You wouldn’t answer my calls. We needed to talk. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jake moves quickly when he wants to. A spatula is in his hand and he’s looming over Heath. Heath tries getting out the way. “What. Am I worth one day of your time. You breeze in here. Pound my ass to the mattress. Then off you go. What do you want from me Heath. I can’t take this shit anymore. God, I can kick your ass back to Australia. Tell me something, is she living with you, sleeping in your bed?”

“Are you fucking that Matthew character?” It’s an instant reaction of self-defense. Heath knows he screwed up real bad when Jake found him in bed with that woman.

“You moron. You’re not turning this shit back on me. I’m not the one who betrayed you.” He stalks back to the counter. Picks up the coriander filled with pasta. It goes flying across the room. Some of the pasta landing on Heath’s chest. Heath scrambles out of the chair. The hot pasta stinging his skin.

“I’m outta here. You can do whatever. Go back to New York. Fuck that girl. “

“If you go to that party, don’t expect to see me again”, Heath yells at Jake’s departing back.

Jake whirls around and points a finger at Heath. “What a laugh. Thought you were already gone.”

Minutes later the front door slams shut. Heath sits like a stone at the table. You could’ve told him the truth, you ass. What the hell am I going to do?

Heath does another cleanup. Seems like that is the only thing he can do well.

Heath considers his options. He could call the airport and see if they could change his flight plan. He could try to get some much-needed sleep. He could hit someone. He could scream and the neighbors probably would call the police. He’s so fucked. He opens the refrigerator and grabs a can of beer. Changes his mind and put the beer back. To hell with it. He’s going after Jake, going to crash in on the party.

Jake’s telephone rings.

“Yeah.” He knows who’s calling him.

“Did you talk to him?”

He laughs sourly. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Let me hear it.”

He tells Naomi everything including the incident with the woman. She listens without interruption or judgment. Funny thing about Jake’s mom, Heath has always liked her. Liked her down-to-earth manner even though he knew she was against Jake and his relationship. She’s becoming a friend while he’s losing her son.

“Damn. I thought I was the cause of your problem.”

“I’m my worse own enemy.” If Jake only knew the half of it, he probably would call him a fool and then laugh ‘til he’s bent over in pain full of giggles.

“I’d say but you do have valid concerns. I should rant at you for cheating on my son. But shit happens.”

“Shit happens?” Heath repeats, amazed at her reaction.

“Yes. There are times one have to walk the hard road before they discover what they would do or not do for love. Discover what’s really important to them. Love does not promise you a rose garden. It’s a well-used metaphor but is damn well true. Do you love him?

“I’m in love with Jake, Naomi.”

“I knew that. Just wanted to hear you say it. So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to the party. I’ll get on my knees if I have to.”

“Good. But save your knees.” He hears her chuckling. “Just drag my stubborn son off somewhere and play nice.”

“Okay,” he says, laughing.

“Would you like me to reschedule your flight?”

“Huh. I now know where Jake gets his persistence. You’re a tough lady. Donna won’t like it. Hold on for a sec.” Heath walks into the bedroom and pulls out his flight ticket from the duffel bag. He gives the information to Naomi.

“She’s your agent, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of Donna. I know her. I’ll tell her you’re in negotiation for your life.”

Heath truly burst into laughter. The first real joy he’s had in months. “I think you’re right about that one.”

Naomi joins in, cementing a bond between them that is long overdue. But she leaves him with one last thought. “Heath you’d better treat my son well. Because next time the gloves are off. Deal?”

“If I mess up, I’ll give myself over to you for complete torture.”

It’s wild. Not his kind of thing. Loud music, too many people, and he stands there watching the scenery unfolds while the taxi pulls away from the curb. Some wrote Jake is boring. Heath amuses himself reading the crap on the net. He knows who’s boring and it wasn’t Jake. This partying thing played out long time ago in his book. Did quite a bit of it in his younger days. But now he prefers quiet nights at home. Lying about listening to music, sweet talking Jake into something pleasurable for both of them.

There’s a line of people wandering around the side of Matt’s Malibu beach house. Heath follows them instead of going through the house and runs straight into Matthew rag-head McConaughey.

“Hey, you made it, buddy.” Matthew hitting him on the back as though they were best of friends.

“Did you expect me?” Heath says, unwilling to give Matt an inch of friendliness.

“Honestly, didn’t think you had the guts to show up here.”

“What’s your problem, dude?”

“You’re the problem.” Heath notices the smirk is gone from Matt’s face. There’s a shift in the wind and it’s blowing his way. Matt is tense and the blue eyes, lighter than Jake’s, are cold to see. “Come on over here, buddy. I wanna to talk to you.”

Heath is curious but not afraid and follows Matt to a spot out of the mingling traffic. A few people are talking there. Matt tells them to take a hike.

“You got me here,” Heath says, thinking this bum couldn’t be any more rude.”

“Look, dude. You may not like me. Don’t mean shit to me. But Jake. When I say he’s a friend. I mean it. A friend, you got that.”

Heath shrugs. “So why you’re telling me?” And wonders how much did Jake say to Matt about them and their problems.

“He came here messed up. I don’t know what the fuck he sees in you. Jake is meeting with the producer who’s going to film Lance’s biography. I got him calmed down. If you gonna start shit, take it someplace else.”

“What film?” There have been rumors for years about doing a bio of Lance Armstrong’s life. Pieces of the puzzle fall into place and Heath is damn near struggling from not letting the embarrassment show. He grips his mouth with fingers, shaking his head.

“You didn’t know?”

“No,” he says truthfully even though admitting the truth to Matt has him feeling like a dork. Jake should’ve told him.

“You two got some messed up relationship.”

“It’s none of your damn business, McConaughey.”

“Calm the fuck down.”

“You know where Jake is?”

“Is this going to be friendly or will I have to kick your ass out of here.”

“I’m trying to negotiate the rest of my life.”

Matt holds Heath’s eyes, looking for truth, maybe. “Got it bad, don’t you. It figures.” Matt smiles like he’s just solved a great mystery. ”I’ll take you to him but let me tell you something. Any sign of trouble will make me an evil man. You don’t want to fuck with the evil man.”

“Thanks,” Heath tells Matt. He’s thinking Matt getting in his face would be the least of his problems.

“There are a lot of people here. Some important. Be cool. Not everyone is as accepting as me.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Like I said. Jake is a friend. Fuck with my friends and you gotta deal with me.”

Turns out Matt didn’t get the chance to take Heath to Jake. They waltzed their way through the crowd like a turtle fighting the pull of a river going upstream. People kept stopping Matt, making conversation. Some recognizing Heath said hello. Some girl planted herself in front of Matt and took the opportunity to chat up Matt. She used every arsenal in her bag of tricks trying to keep Matt’s attention on her. Her huge breasts bouncing, looking ready to spill over her thin bikini top captivated Matt. Heath chuckled silently watching Matt putting the moves on the girl. He made his escape then while the girl engaged Matt and ended up at the back of the house, which faced the beach.

Rounding a corner of the house, Heath spots a baseball cap sitting askew on top of a tall, dark haired man. Moustache and beard covering up that mouth he knows so well. A girl is talking away at Jake and he’s nodding his head but it becomes obvious the girl doesn’t have Jake’s full attention. The twist of the lips and the blank gaze are signs of a body language Heath knows well.

Roaming blue eyes settles on his hungry eyes. They grow wide with surprise. White teeth make an appearance as the mouth on the Jake’s face spread from cheek to cheek. Warmth feels up empty spaces, makes the beat in Heath’s chest go thump. Nothing so beautiful than to have his man give him a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, partner”, he says, sliding up to Jake and nudging him on the shoulder.

Realizing she has lost Jake’s complete attention, the girl steps back, her pale face tinted red and relinquishes her place to Heath.

“Where’d you come from?” Jake shoves him back and doesn’t notice the girl is gone.

Heath shrugs and gives Jake a lopsided grin “Someone forgot to give me an invitation.”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.” Jake lowers his head and looks at the ground.

“You gotta know,” he says, moving in closer and whispers into Jake’s ear. “I’ll always be interested in you.”

It’s like the sun’s slow rise to a new day, Jake meeting him eye to eye. The blues assessing Heath, searching for something only Jake could know. The browns begging, trying to convey to Jake what Heath failed to say in words. I’m sorry. Forgive me.

The space closes in on them, they kiss.

More than the touch of the lips but not sexual either. A kiss of saying hello, can we please start over, and I’m so damn glad you’re here.

He couldn’t have planned it better. Doesn’t have to fall down to his knees and beg Jake to take him back. He would’ve done it, too. He takes the high road and goes one step further. In a split second, Heath has gone against the advice of Matt, his publicist, and his mother-in-law, Naomi, who asked Heath to be circumspect when he meet up with Jake. To hell with caution, it’s the root of their problem.

Pulling back, Jake says, “Think you should warn a guy.” There’s excitement bubbling up in the blue eyes. The tongue slips out of the side of his mouth.

Heath stares at that tongue. “You make me crazy. You know that, don’t you.”

“My pleasure.” Jake is laughing, keeping his eyes on Heath. The face is glowing with joy and this alone makes Heath feels he’s done good. He came and claimed his man.

“Let’s get out of here. I hear a buzz coming.”

Matt is there on the front lawn with hands on his hips. He shakes a finger at Heath as they walk up to him. “You take advice real well, mate.” Then the mouth quirks upward and what follows is a big assed grin. “Shit. That was some kiss. You know you’re going to take some heat.”

“That’s why we leaving,” Jake says.

“Leaving me with the cleanup. Yeah.”

Whatever crap is going to spill out from Matt’s mouth, Heath knows it’s going to be good. All good. Jake is his friend.

“You okay, my man?” Matt asks Jake.

“I’m doing wonderful. Is this going to be a problem for the producer?

“Not if Lance has anything to say about it.”

“Cool.” Jake answers, relieved. “Still going to whip your ass for the part.”

“Give it your best shot.” Matt faces Heath. “Glad to know I won’t have to kick your butt, after all.”

“Yeah, like you and how many other people.” Heath doubts Matt and him will be good friends. “Thanks,” he says to Matt, anyway. That is about as much appreciation he can offer the scoundrel.

“Go on and get out here. Jake, see you tomorrow.”

“He won’t be available,” Heath interjects.

“I won’t?” Jake’s eyebrows go up staring at Heath.

“I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

“Yay,” and like a kid, Jake pumps the air with a fist.

As they head over to Jake’s car, Heath says, “Don’t you have something to tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like why you’re hanging out with rag-head Matthew McConaughey.”

“Man, that’s bad.” Jake begins telling Heath about Sony’s proposal in making a bio of Lance Armstrong and that both he and Matt are competitors for the lead part.

They are back at the apartment. Soft music is playing in the background. Their stomachs full of spaghetti and meatballs. Heath is sprawled in a relaxed state on the couch. Jake is sitting on floor between Heath’s legs. One of his arms is dangling off Heath’s knees.

Heath fingers soft hair, watching the strands spread on his jean covered thigh. “Pick a city.”

“Um… Antarctica.” Jake says, giggling, and looks up at Heath.

“I said a city, not the South Pole, smartass.” Heath smacks Jake on the forehead.

“Hey. Watch it. All right. New York.”

“Good answer.” Heath let a smile crawl on his face.

Jake rolls up and plops his body down on the couch next to Heath. “You know we have to talk about it. I don’t want to. But what happens next time we have a fight. I don’t even know where we are in this. Shit, I hate this.”

They’re legitimate concerns. Ones Heath has been waiting to hear from Jake. He may not be thrilled about going over bad history but Jake deserves better. “Talk then.”

“The girl.” Jake let out a short laugh. “Would’ve joined you if I wasn’t so goddamn angry.”

“Yeah, baby. And I would’ve kicked your ass,” and Heath rubs his thumb over Jake’s bottom lip.

Their faces are mere inches apart. “Can’t happen again, Heath. Don’t think I can handle seeing you with someone else.”

“God.” Heath reaches around to Jake’s neck and pulls him toward him. Just so he could touch Jake’s face, feel the warmth of his skin next to his, wants to stroke away the pain he has put there. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any real excuse except I was fucked up over our fights. Scared you’d leave me.”

“I wouldn’t have left you, Heath. We needed to work out our problem. Not add to it. I came to your home that night to tell you we didn’t have to live together. I understood your reasons.”

“Damn.” Two months of hell could’ve been avoided. “I got drunk in a bar, drowning in my sorrows. She made a play and you know the rest. That’s all it was. Never saw her before then, and never saw her afterward.” Heath starts laughing. Jake looks at him as if he’s lost his mind.

“What’s funny?”

“You wanna know what she said the night you walked out?”

“I guess. Go ahead and tell me.”

“She asked me was I gay.”

“What did you say. Hell no.”

“Told her. ‘Damn right I am. That was my mate walking out on me.’ I was having performance issues and, shit, that got her out of my bed quick. Just so you know, I outted myself twice.”

A bark of laughter bounces around the room. Heath joins in, chuckling. The strain enveloping them easing away through the relief of laugher.

“Performance issues, huh. I guess that’s the reason my ass is sore.” Jake is smug with knowing.

“Yeah. Heath Ledger is gay. Has eyes only for your body, your eyes, your mouth, your gorgeous dick, and for that damn tongue that slides out of your mouth at the strangest times. Screwed up in the head and heart by Jake Gyllenhaal. I owe you another apology.”

“For what?”

“Accusing you with being with Matt.”

“He maybe my type but he has blue eyes. I prefer brown.”

“Prefer?” Does Jake want Matt? He wonders.

Jake practically flattens Heath as he jumps into his lap. Strong thigh muscles straddling over and around him. Jake grabs Heath by the chin and gets into his face. “Next time you accuse me of cheating, you’d better know what the hell you’re talking about. What the fuck made you think I was interested in Matt?”

Heath locks arms around the force keeping him pinned down and stares up at him. “Jealousy. Matt’s hands on you. Didn’t like it,” he says, plainly. “You still want me?”

“Damn right I do. I love you Heath.”

“Good.”

And there’s pressure on his mouth, tongue begging for entrance, the kissing deepens. While they are at it, Heath searches for something behind his back on the couch.

“Let’s go to bed,” Jake says, pressing his groin into Heath’s stomach.

Heath grabs a hold of Jake’s hand and put something in it.

“What’s this?”

“Pick a city.”

Starring at his hand, Jake says, “New York. Does this means… Don’t fuck with me, Ledger.”

“These are your keys to the brownstone. If you want them. They are for the front door, garage, back and side doors…”

“I get it. You want me…” Jake eyes are so big Heath could drown into them.

“Yeah. Move in with me. I want you with me everyday and every night. I don’t do so well without you, baby.”

“It’s all I want, us together.” His thumb and index fingers rub a key as though Jake isn’t sure they’re real. “You said us being together could destroy our career.”

Heath kisses Jake hard and says hovering at the edge of Jake’s mouth. “Too late. I blew it when I kissed you at Matt’s.”

Jake has to laugh. Heath feels the rumbling of happy sounds on his chest. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It’s going to work out. We probably lose some support of our fans. Lose out on parts because of narrow-minded assholes. But it’ll be worth it. People’s attitudes change all the time.”

Heath leans back, running fingers down Jake’s face. “Just remember one thing.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t ever let the dissension to our being together get in the way of us being together. Remember I love you.”

“I’ve got your back, babe.”

End

The day had been long and clearly, nighttime has taken over the sky. Here he was finally standing in front of the home of his lover. The circle of white light beamed down on Jake from the street lamppost nearby.

Jake had wanted to surprise Heath for more reasons than just the usual visits. He smiled while going up the stoops, thinking on the things he planned on doing to Heath. Sexy thoughts like jumping the bones of his lover, which got Jake hot and bothered and gave him the shivers. He felt the growing bulge pressing against his jeans. Won’t be long now. Be cool. Jake couldn’t wait to talk to Heath. He’d made a decision he knew would go a long way in healing their relationship.

Jake used the key Heath had given him and opened the door to a home he shared with Heath when he was in New York. Two weeks, one week, three days, one day, Jake had such need for Heath he would take a flight from LA on a whim just to spend the day with his man. So he could satisfy that itch that had been building since the last time he saw Heath. Jake earned more frequent flyer miles than he cared to think about.

Closing the door behind him, he thinks, so what, I’m going to give in to the pressure exerted by Heath. Being with the person you loved sometimes means sacrificing the things you want.

Jake understood he was the cause for the arguments between them. He’d laid down an ultimatum and Heath didn’t take too kindly to Jake’s demand.

The house was quiet as Jake walked easy from the vestibule to the living room. He set down his duffel bag in the middle of the floor knowing Heath would have a fit come morning. Jake figured his man was already in bed. Heath stayed up late when Jake was there to entertain him. He’d told Jake once he sure knew how to mess up his beauty rest. Jake had pounced on Heath, had wrestled him down to the floor in the living room and said, “You’re already beautiful. You looking for a compliment?”

“Hey, mate. I love you, too,” Heath had said, wrapping his fingers in Jake’s hair.

He stretched arms above his head and wiggled his body from side to side, loosening up tight and tired muscles. Then he breathed in the familiar scent of the house as he looked around. There stood his housewarming gift to Heath. A nearly six feet tall, long stemmed Drink Floor Lamp shaped like a wine glass. He went over and lovingly ran a finger down silvered colored stem.

Those early days when Heath first moved to New York had been fun and enlightening. More like relief too, because in NY, Jake had gotten to know his man in way he couldn’t in LA. Heath hated the invasion of his privacy by the constant appearance of the paparazzi, and the overwhelming sense his life was beyond his control. Their joint efforts at playing the characters in the Brokeback Mountain film became a source of many jokes among the media, and among associates.

They’d endured a secret life of togetherness in LA. It didn’t matter the sly remarks came close to the truth. They were about appearances, and maintaining the BFF friendship that sometimes happened when actors had worked together.

One day Heath had called up Jake and said he was moving to the East Coast. Jake had thought it was an okay idea and told Heath he would miss him but he understood the reason.

“Don’t your sister live in NY?”

“Yeah, and you know. She can provide the perfect cover for us.”

The traveling back and forth between coastlines eventually took its toll on Jake. It wasn’t so much the time spent in the air but the knowing this wasn’t how he wanted to live his life. Jake wanted Heath, wanted to be with him, didn’t want to keep splitting his time between East and West coastlines.

He’d suggested to Heath he could move in permanently. Heath balked, complained Jake moving in would destroy their careers. That started the arguments.

Going to shock the hell out of Heath. Jake smiled and grabbed two cans of beer from the fridge. His trip had been unplanned. Jake wanted to wave the white flag, put a stop to the fights, willing to forget his demand that they live together. He could deal with the situation. Jake wanted peace.

His smile grew wider and wider as he climbed softly up the stairs and walked down the carpeted hallway to the master’s bedroom. He had a plan all mapped out in his head. Was going to kiss his man senseless, make the bed bounce off the walls, then tell Heath about his decision, that they could end the war that was tearing them apart.

The door to the bedroom hung half opened. There were sounds coming from the room like Heath moaning in his sleep, as he tended to do at times. Jake pushed opened the door to enter the bedroom. A low moan shuttled in a throat as though it struggled for full release. Heath on the bed slowly thrusting hips. Jake recognized the movements, knew the shape of the bare hips, the bone structure, the strength, how Heath held on tight not wanting to hurt Jake as Jake sucked him down.

Except that wasn’t Jake on the bed with Heath. “You son-of-a-bitch,” Jake growled. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Heath’s eyes flew open. The brunette, lying on her side, naked, stared up at Jake in surprise. Heath’s dick slid out of her mouth.

“Jake. God.” Heath scrambled away from the woman as though her touch disgusted him.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on here.” Jake’s fingers tightened around the beer cans. He was hard pressed at keeping the cans at his sides. He shook so badly, his whole body felt explosive. In fact Jake dropped the cans because by God, everything in him wanted to hurl them at Heath’s head.

“Oh my,” the girl said, rushing to cover up her body with a sheet. “You’re that guy…” Turning her head to Heath, “Why is he so angry?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jake and Heath said to the girl at the same time.

“You know what,” Jake said. “I see the problem. Here all this time I thought it was me. Too fucking demanding. Excuse me while I go and kick my ass for being stupid. I’m outta here.”

He rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs at full throttle speed.

Jake was willing to admit to Heath, he may have been right about living together. He was willing to continue seeing Heath in way that was comfortable for him. He be damned if he was willing to share Heath with anyone. Jake had no tolerance for people who couldn’t be honest with him, no matter the pain he’d suffer. Disappointment in the people he’d loved seemed the norm in his life. Kirsten, George, and now Heath.

Thumping noise came from the stairs. Jake grabbed his duffel bag. “Wait, Jake. Let’s talk this through, mate.” There was pleading in Heath’s voice.

“I don’t want to hear from you,” Jake said, pointing a finger at Heath and his nakedness. “Every single fucking time I make a concession to someone I love, I get stomped on. No more. Screw this shit.”

He struggled to find the key in his pocket and when it appeared in his hand, he threw it at Heath.

Jake felt the presence of Heath behind him but he slammed close the door anyway. Out he went into the night taking the stoop two at a time, not caring if he’d stumbled or not. Tears begged for release at the corner of his eyes. He pulled out his cell phone from his pants’ pocket, pressed a single number, and hit the call button. Maggie’s voice murmured a sleepy hello.

At least he had a place to go and a soft shoulder he could rest his head on.

End