From Morocco to Paris (16 page)

“What!” Zane turned around. “Was it something important? I left my phone in my room!”

“Hell if I know.” Davey lifted his foot. “Here, lick. Since you apparently have a fetish.”

Zane pushed his foot away. “It better not have been something important!”

“Don’t worry, if it was you’ll miss it.” Davey picked up his paper again. “What did you want me to say? Yeah, he’s right here behind me, banging me. Let me pass the phone over my shoulder?”

Zane sighed and turned back to his magazine. He’d get his phone and give Rory a call in a little bit. He reasoned if he called right away Rory would know Davey had lied.

Zane’s plan didn’t come to fruition however, as Davey got bored of his crossword and started running his nails lightly down Zane’s back again, sitting next to him. Goosebumps broke out over Zane’s skin at the gentle but strangely intense sensation.

He turned his head to look at Davey with a raised eyebrow. Davey crawled forward and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Zane looked down at his magazine, though he no longer had much interest in the article. He felt Davey’s breath against his ear.

“I’m horny,” Davey whispered.

“Are you?” Zane closed the magazine. “I’m not; I had a nice blowjob this morning.”

Davey drew back to Zane’s shoulder and gave his collarbone a gentle bite. “Will you fuck me?” he asked.

Zane rolled over on his side, so he faced him. Davey sat back.

“Things are still weird,” Zane said softly. “Don’t you think?”

“Things have always been weird. That’s never stopped us from fucking.” Davey undid his robe. “Not man enough to get off twice in one morning? You don’t even have to get off, just get it up.”

“How am I supposed to do that!” Zane protested as Davey rolled him onto his back. “It’s tired!”

“Then I guess this is a job for…” Davey whipped his robe open with a fierce look. “The Cockmaster!”

Zane groaned and put a hand over his eyes.

He didn’t think he could focus long enough to become aroused. However, after his shorts were off, Davey’s bare body on top of his accomplished a great deal in a short time. Davey rubbed his hard cock against Zane’s limp one and swiftly stirred him. Zane lifted his hips to the sensation, his stiffening length rubbing silkily against Davey’s erection.

Davey hovered over him, hands on either side of Zane’s shoulders, the sunlight in his hair. Zane reached up and wound the long strands around his fingers.

“You can pull it,” Davey said and smirked. “I know you like it rough.”

Zane didn’t pull. He didn’t feel like being rough.

Davey looked beautiful, naked on top of him, skin dusky and hair flowing, tossing his head and rolling his hips as he brought them both to full arousal. He knew how to put on a show. They proceeded to the application of something wet and slick, and then some shifting, some preparing, and then the tight heat inside of Davey made everything else pale into the background.

Pressing Davey up against the headboard, Davey’s knees hooked over his arms, Zane found bliss.

Things had changed though, and something white hot and resonating strung between them, connecting them in a way Zane found alarming. He was afraid to look Davey in the eyes or hear the words he said. Davey traced Zane’s lower lip with his fingers, and Zane sucked one into his mouth.

“I fucking love you,” Davey whispered. No, not
you
, it. He’d said “it” and Zane heard “you.”

Davey kissed him, sucked at his tongue, moaned desperately into his mouth. The position had to hurt, but he begged for more.

Zane came first, in a rush like fire shooting through his veins, making him give a strangled cry against Davey’s lips. The sensation galvanized him, tearing him down to his essential self. The intensity made him tremble.

“Oh God.” Davey’s voice and his sigh fell heavy on Zane’s ears. “You beautiful bastard.”

Zane stroked him, still inside him, not thinking he could remove himself just yet. Davey arched and squirmed when he came and Zane finally slipped out. Davey clutched the headboard and swore and moaned so loudly Zane mused the room next door had had some free entertainment.

Afterward, Zane sprawled on his stomach, head hanging off the bed and gazing at the noonday sun streaming through the window. Davey rested his head on his lower back, his hair draped over Zane’s hip. Zane continued trembling for minutes afterward and was profoundly glad Davey said nothing about the reaction.

After a long, quiet time broken only by the sound of the city drifting in, Zane glanced around the floor, looking for his jeans. He reached out and pulled them over. His cell phone tumbled out of one of the pockets.

“Ah fuck,” he said as he snatched the phone up. “I
had
my phone!”

Davey chuckled. “You were pretty drunk last night. Remember, first you were convinced you lost it, then you were convinced it was in your room?”

“I better call Rory.”

Davey rolled away. Zane powered the phone up and saw he had three voicemails from Rory -- but thankfully none from Elliot, who actually paid him to take his calls.

“I swear to God, if this is something really important I’m going to stick your head in that pot,” Zane warned Davey.

Zane sat up and propped himself against the headboard. Davey snuggled up against him, arm over Zane’s stomach and head on his chest. Zane didn’t bother listening to the voicemails and just called Rory.

“Tell him to bring us some lunch,” Davey said.

Rory picked up after two rings. “Hello?”

“Rory!” Zane said brightly. “It’s Zane.”

“Zane! Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, I was…jogging.” Davey snickered and Zane swatted him on the back of the head. “What’s going on?” Zane asked.

“Your brother is here!”

Zane paused in dumbfounded silence. “What!”

Davey lifted his head and looked up at him.

“Your brother. Is here. He went up to your room, but you weren’t there. We’ve been hanging out. Cool guy.”

In the background Zane heard Ian’s voice, berating him playfully for being missing.

“Oh shit!” Zane sat up, making Davey sit up too. “What the fuck is he doing here! He didn’t tell me he was coming!”

“Surprise. You wanna talk to him?”

Zane rolled off the bed and grabbed up his jeans. “Sure. Where are you?”

“Downstairs in the restaurant. Here.”

He heard a faint crackling, and then Ian’s voice came on. “Zane!”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He struggled to get his jeans on.

Davey sat on the bed, watching him with perplexed amusement.

“I can’t come see my brother?” Ian asked. “Where the hell have you been? With some girl, aren’t you?”

“No.” Zane buttoned his jeans, the phone tucked against his shoulder. He shot Davey a look. “I was just jogging. I’ll be right down, okay?”

“All right. I mean, I’ve waited this long for you.”

“Okay. Be there in a few.” Zane hung up and tossed the phone on the bed.

“What the hell was that?” Davey asked.

Zane searched for his shirt. “My fucking brother is here! Which I would have known if you hadn’t told Rory you didn’t know where I was!”

Davey crawled to the edge of the bed, watching as Zane tugged his shirt on, then struggled into his socks and shoes.

“Zane, if I told Rory you were here, you would have been pissed off at me for telling him. You would have complained it looked suspicious. I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t, aren’t I?”

“Whatever.” Zane stood up, running a hand through his hair. He paused, then said more gently, “I’ll talk to you tonight, all right?”

Davey knelt, elbows on the bed, chin propped on one hand. He wiggled his fingers. “Bye, honey.”

Zane left in a rush. He couldn’t say exactly why Ian being there made him so nervous, but he fidgeted all the way downstairs in the elevator, then stopped at a mirror to check his appearance before making his way to the restaurant.

“There he is!” Ian said and got to his feet as Zane approached the table.

Rory swiveled in his chair and waved, then returned to his food. Zane embraced his brother, hoping he didn’t smell like sex.

People often said they bore a striking family resemblance, though Ian was thinner and a few inches taller. His hair was a few shades lighter brown, sleek, straight, and fringed, just above shoulder-length, in contrast to Zane’s darker, short, shaggy hair. The style flattered Ian’s narrow face and made him look quite chic. He dressed a hell of a lot better than Zane, too.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Zane asked. “You should have called and told me you were coming!”

They sat down at the table. A waiter brought Zane a menu and some water.

“Like I was going to pass on the chance to visit
Cairo
.” Ian waved a hand. “This is the most exotic place you’ve ever been! I would have come to Morocco, but I had too much going on at the time. I decided I’d take a few days off now and invoke my ‘visit my little brother on the set’ privileges. Thought you might like the surprise.”

Ian ran a talent agency in Santa Barbara. His connections had been invaluable in getting Zane into the movie business. Zane liked having his brother in the same state and with the funds to visit him when he traveled.

“It is a great surprise,” Zane said with a smile. “Sorry I was busy when you showed up.”

“Lunch is on me today,” Ian said. “You can buy dinner and make it up to me.”

They did some catching up. Zane really so happy to see him he quickly forgot about the complication waiting upstairs, until Ian suddenly looked up and made a face Zane knew well. Something delicious had just walked through the door.

“Ouch, damn,” Ian murmured.

Zane smirked and looked over his shoulder half-expecting to see Cristiano, and promptly dropped his fork.

Davey breezed toward the table, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair in a loose ponytail. Disaster, approaching with unerring swiftness.

“Hey, guys.” Davey stopped at the table, smiling. His gaze fell on Ian.

“Hey, Davey,” Rory said.

Zane couldn’t speak. His tongue felt thick, blocking the opening of his throat. Ian shot Zane a prodding, expectant look.

“Um.” Zane cleared his throat. “Ian, this is Davey Alexander. He’s one of the set costumers. Davey, this is my brother Ian.”

“Hi.” Davey smiled brightly and held out a hand; Ian took it and shook it firmly, smiling up at him. “Good to meet you,” Davey said. “Zane’s told me so much about you. Mind if I join you guys?”

“Go ahead,” Rory said, before Zane could speak.

Davey pulled out a chair and sat.

“So, you and my brother are friends, huh?” Ian asked.

Zane took a quick drink of his tea.

Davey smiled, pushing an errant strand of hair away from his face. “Oh yes, great friends. We’ve been hanging out the whole production.”

Ian smiled widely. Rory snorted. Zane tried to think of an excuse to get away from the table, though he wondered which was more dangerous -- staying, or leaving and not knowing what Davey said.

“So, you just got to Cairo, Ian?” Davey asked. “How long are you staying?”

“Depends on how the sightseeing is,” Ian said meaningfully.

Disaster
.

Chapter 13

In an effort to create a cunning distraction, Zane introduced Ian to Cristiano. They hit it off right away, to Elliot’s obvious consternation, and talked for several hours in the hotel lobby before they all went to dinner in the evening after shooting.

They went to Sharia Alfy, an area of Cairo heavily populated with restaurants, clubs, and bars, lively and busy and certainly Ian’s style. Zane would have preferred someplace quiet and out of the way, but he wanted to be accommodating.

The restaurant they went to was called Alfy Bey, a vivacious, atmospheric Egyptian establishment with very traditional Egyptian food. Everything Zane ordered was either disturbingly exotic or painfully bland, but they all -- minus Elliot, obviously -- wanted the experience. Zane hoped said experience wouldn’t include being hunched over a toilet later, as they’d been warned repeatedly to be careful about what local food they ate.

They sat at a half table, half booth, Zane in a chair across from Ian, Ian in the booth portion with Cristiano and Elliot, Davey in another chair between Zane and Ian. Ian had swiveled his attention from Cristiano to Davey since their arrival at the restaurant. Elliot seemed much happier with this, sitting back and sipping orange juice -- the restaurant didn’t serve alcohol -- his arm on the seat behind Cristiano, though not touching him. Elliot had enough sense to know Saul didn’t need one of his key actors imprisoned in Cairo for homosexuality.

“He was crazy when we were teenagers,” Ian said. He had been regaling Davey with tales of Zane’s misspent youth for nearly a half hour. “Has he told you about the time he ran our momma’s car into a lake?”

Davey focused bemusedly on Zane, ripping apart a piece of flatbread. He looked good, dressed in a tailored, dark gray suit with a pink dress shirt underneath.

“Did you run a car into a lake, Zane?” Davey asked.

“It was only the front part.” Zane shot his brother a dour look.

Ian was dressed nicely as well, all in black, a jacket and dress shirt and trousers, sharp and stylish. He only cleaned himself up so well for one reason.

“You still put it in the lake,” Ian said.

“It was an accident.”

“Yes, accidents tend to happen when you’re too young to drive.”

“That’s bullshit!” Zane said. “I was damn well old enough to drive. You just don’t remember it right!”

Zane immediately regretted raising his voice. Ian fixed him with a pointed, stern look.

“I’m sorry,” Zane said and rubbed his forehead. “It’s been a long day.”

“We need to get you somewhere that serves booze, then,” Ian said and winked at Davey. “Has he been like this since he got here?”

Davey smirked. “Mostly, yes. I think the heat has gone right to his head.”

Cristiano gazed at Zane, dark eyes taking him in knowingly. Zane had a feeling he could see right through him, see down to the fact Zane was so conflicted he wanted to tear his own hair out. Ian was his brother, and he loved and respected him and would never stand in his way. Ian also thought Zane was the very definition of straight and had no idea what he was doing by flirting with Davey.

“I’m sorry,” Zane said again, sitting up straighter. “I didn’t mean to get shitty with you, Ian. It really has been a long day. And if we’re going to tell stories, why don’t I tell some about you?” Zane smiled genuinely.

Ian smiled back at him. “Make sure you tell the one where you saw me naked in the shower and I’m positively
huge
.”

Laughter erupted, and Zane attempted to relax.

Zane told a few stories, but Ian took over the conversation again before long, which Zane expected and didn’t mind. Ian had always been the talker and Zane the laid back one. Ian worked the subject around to his sexuality, and Zane saw him readying his guns before he even pulled them out.

“Now see, this side of the table has the right idea,” he told Zane. He gestured to Cristiano and Elliot. “They know who the fairer sex
really
is.”

“Actually, I’m bisexual too,” Davey said.

Exactly what Ian had been digging for.

“Oh!” Ian’s eyes got brighter. “Then I guess poor little Zane is out in the cold.”

“Screw y’all,” Zane replied. “That just leaves all the hot girls for me tonight.”

Ian, Cristiano, and Elliot laughed. Davey smirked, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“I think that’s why Zane and I have always been so close,” Ian said.

“Because you’re gay?” Davey asked. He sat back, slumped elegantly in his chair, and crossed his legs. At least Zane could now see he and Ian weren’t touching under the table.

“Yes.” Ian looked at Zane. “There’s never been any competition between us. When he’s flirting with a girl he doesn’t have to worry about me trying to steal her. I just take her brother home.”

Laughter again. Zane finished off his orange juice and poured some more from the carafe in the middle of the table. Orange juice was served everywhere in Cairo -- fresh squeezed, natural, nothing like the sugary, processed crap back home.

“Do you go out together often?” Davey asked.

When Zane set the carafe down, Ian grabbed it up and refilled Davey’s glass.

“Oh yeah,” Ian said and offered the full glass to Davey, which he took with a little smile. “We go to clubs all the time when we’re both home.”

“Gay clubs?” Davey asked and looked at Zane.

Zane got the impression Davey wanted him to lose his cool -- he wanted some dramatic reaction to the glass refilling, some sign of jealousy. He could keep dreaming. Zane wasn’t going to let his composure be so easily compromised.

“Sometimes.” Ian shrugged. “He tolerates them for me, and I tolerate a night of strippers for him.”

“I can’t imagine strait-laced Zane in a gay bar,” Davey said.

“Neither can I,” Cristiano piped up. “Must be a sight.”

“I go!” Zane said defensively. “God, it’s not that big a deal.”

“I help him out.” Ian leaned toward Davey with a smile. “If someone hits on him, I pretend to be his boyfriend.”

Davey laughed. “That is demented on so many levels. You look so alike. People must realize you’re related!”

“That makes them run away even faster.” Ian grinned. “We should go.” He swatted Davey’s dangling foot. “There’s gotta be some hidden away in this city.”

“It’s illegal here,” Zane said. “You’re not gonna find a gay club in Cairo, Ian.”

“I know it’s illegal.” Ian whipped out his cell phone. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t certain places you can go.”

“What, are you calling up the queer hotline?” Davey asked.

Ian laughed uproariously. Cristiano laughed as well, a crystalline, tinkling sound in comparison.

“Of course he is!” Cristiano said, smiling at Davey. “We have a special number to keep connected!”

“Actually,” Ian still chuckled at Davey’s joke, which Zane didn’t find
that
funny, “I’m gonna look it up on the internet. If that doesn’t help, I’ll call a friend.” Ian got to his feet. “Be back in a few.”

He put a hand on Davey’s shoulder as he went around him, then patted Zane on the back as he left. Zane looked down at his plate.

Cristiano cleared his throat. “Elliot, why don’t we use the facilities while Ian is gone?” The universal code for “let’s leave these two alone.”

Elliot slid out of the booth, and Cristiano followed. Cristiano touched Zane’s shoulder as they passed: universal code for “hang in there, jealous fool.”

After they left, Zane and Davey were silent, Zane staring at his plate and Davey sipping his orange juice.

“Damn,” Davey finally said. “The way he looks at me, it feels like his hands are all over me.”

Zane winced but said nothing.

“It must be genetic. He fucks me with his eyes just like you do.”

Once again, Zane didn’t answer, willing neither to defend nor incriminate his brother.

“Your voice has changed,” Davey said.

“What?” Zane looked up.

“Your hillbilly accent is coming out.”

“It’s because of Ian. Usually I don’t have it because I’ve been in California long enough, but when I’m around him and hear traces of it, well.” He shrugged. “Listen, you can drop the act. I’m not going to choose between you and my brother.”

“There, you did it again.” Davey pointed around his glass. “You said ‘mah’ instead of ‘my.’”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said!” He glanced around at the other diners and lowered his voice. “Just knock it the fuck off.”

“Knock what off? What am I doing?”

“Trying to make me jealous. It’s not going to work. He’s my brother, and I love him. I refuse to put anyone above him.”

Davey snorted and pushed his hair off his shoulder. “If you’re jealous, it’s not because I’m trying to make you that way.” He took a drink, eyeing Zane over the rim of his glass, then lowered it and licked his lips. “Besides, if you are, who fucking cares? Last I checked, we weren’t married.”

“Exactly. Knock it the fuck off, because it’s pathetic.”

“We won’t talk about what’s pathetic right now.”

Zane seethed silently. He knew he should just tell Ian to back off, but doing so would require an earth-shattering revelation and a long, deep conversation. He would also have to admit to Davey he was being irrational and projecting his own fear.

They didn’t speak again until Ian came back to the table. He slid back into the booth, holding his phone triumphantly in the air.

“Found a place!” He settled into the seat, grinning at Davey. “Do you drink?”

Davey snorted. “Do I drink, Zane?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“I hope the other two will come along.” Ian glanced at the empty booth beside him. “Cristiano is an interesting fella. A little odd though. I’ve seen his type in Hollywood. Stylish, classy, elusive. They’re usually hiding something.”

“I think Elliot is a bit jealous of you, Ian,” Davey said and looked at Zane. “He’s pathetic like that.”

Ian smirked, pushing a hand into the pocket of his jacket. He drew out a pack of cigarettes.

“I’m not trying to steal Cristiano away from him,” Ian said. He turned the pack over and shook two cigarettes out. “I prefer my men a little sturdier -- never went for the willowy and winsome look.” He grinned and held a cigarette out to Davey. “You smoke, darling?”

Davey held a hand up and smiled. “Only after sex.”

Now Davey was being deliberately antagonizing.

Ian withdrew the cigarette. “I’ll have to make sure I pick up a fresh pack for later then,” he said.

Zane got up and went to join Cristiano and Elliot in the bathroom. Cristiano stood at the sinks, blowing his nose, and looked strangely startled to see him. He tossed the tissue in a trashcan and started washing his hands.

“You all right?” Cristiano asked softly. They were alone.

“Yeah.”

Zane walked over to a sink. He turned on the water, leaned over, and splashed some on his face. He yanked some towels from the dispenser beside him and dried his cheeks, Cristiano gazing at him in the mirror.

“Where’s Elliot?” Zane asked.

“He went out for some air. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No.” Zane chuckled humorlessly and wadded up the towels. “No, I wouldn’t.” He tossed them toward the trashcan. They missed.

Cristiano nodded. “It’s hard to talk about something when you aren’t even sure how you feel about it to begin with.”

Cristiano dried his hands and walked over to Zane. To Zane’s mild surprise, he reached up and smoothed his hair behind his ear. Cristiano’s dark eyes were so very sympathetic, without a trace of mockery or contempt in them. Zane stared at him a moment, so many thoughts rolling around inside his head he wasn’t sure how to sort them. Anger simmered just under the surface of everything else, and he wanted to act out like a spited child. He leaned forward.

“Ah.” Cristiano stopped him with a finger against his lips. “
Caro mio
, that’s not the way to fix this. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Zane drew back, heat flaring in his cheeks.
That was fucking stupid,
he admonished himself.

Cristiano lowered his hand and smiled. “I’m flattered, though.”

Zane turned and headed for the door. Going out, he looked back at Cristiano, still standing at the sinks. Cristiano smiled again, those dark eyes meeting his, despite his protest a certain heat burning in their depths. Zane hurried out before the look had a chance to travel the length of his spine.

After some convincing, Elliot and Cristiano agreed to come to the bar Ian had found. They were all worried about raids by the sex police, but Ian assured them the place catered mostly to foreigners and the police left the patrons alone. Davey rode with Elliot and Cristiano in their car, and Ian rode with Zane.

“God, Davey is something else,” Ian said as they crawled through the traffic-congested streets. Zane tried to concentrate on the hellish, organic mess of cars that paid no heed to traffic laws and continuously blared their horns.

“If you say so,” Zane said.

“So fucking hot,” Ian sighed, apparently so smitten he was oblivious to the chaos around them. “I’m sure you haven’t noticed.”

Zane flexed his fingers on the wheel. “He’s all right.”

Ian snorted. “
All right
is an understatement. He’s the kind of guy could make you forget all other guys exist. That’s ‘settling down material,’ as Momma says.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough. He’s smart, witty. Such a sharp fucking wit. And so casual. So easy in his skin. Have you noticed that?”

“I guess.”

“He’s a ball of fire. He sets
me
on fire.” Ian chuckled. “God, I wonder what he’s like in bed?”

Zane brought the car to an abrupt stop at a light. They were packed in tight, encased in noise and heat and fumes.

“Sorry,” Ian said. He smirked and whacked Zane gently on the arm. “Am I freaking you out?”

“No.” Zane looked in the mirror to see if Elliot had stayed behind them. “Like I said, it’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah…” Ian seemed entirely oblivious to Zane’s words or mood. “I tell you what though, I’m damn well gonna find out what he’s like in bed.”

Ian turned and looked through the back window and waved. Somehow the others had managed to stay on their bumper. Zane saw Davey and Cristiano wave back. Elliot sat glowering behind the wheel.