Get ready to learn some more! Everyone hides something. What's Alex hiding? Thank you so so much for reading and reviewing, the support for this story, even just two chapters in is amazing! You guys are the greatest!
Over the next few days Alex got better, though being sick had barely slowed him down in the first place. His crew got more comfortable running the show and he had less to do during performances. We chatted between shows, small talk mostly, never anything of substance, he was always one of the first to arrive in the morning. I loved getting to talk to him, the rush never went away, it always went away, but not with him. With him, every conversation was like running headlong toward a cliff. My knees shook each time he opened his mouth, I loved watching him talk, how he'd get excited about something and his hands would gesture wildly, the faces he would make when impersonating people.
The first week of performances was finally behind us, I sat in the booth with my headset on, listening to Lafayette mutter to himself in French before I switched back to my empty channel, knowing someone would come on if there were any problems. I sat there for a while and sketched, there was static on the headset, someone tuning into my channel, I waited for directions, wondering what must have gone wrong.
"John?" Alex whispered, his voice staticy.
"That's me." I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
"Has anyone told you today that you have a great ass?"
"The best below fourteenth street. Is it true?"
"Goddamn, did you just quote RENT at me?"
"Might have."
"That's… You're… Damn…" he tuned back out of my channel.
The next night, another occurrence on my channel.
"You there?" He whispered.
"I'm here."
"Hi."
"Hey."
"Can I make out with you in the wings tonight after the show?"
"That would be preferable."
He found me hiding in the shadows after the final curtain and pushed me against the wall of the wing and kissed me hard, grinding our bodies together. I squeezed his ass, his baggy jeans making it a difficult task, but one that I took on with glee. He had to leave again, and didn't offer for me to join him, this was strange to me, I'd never been a part of a slow burn, most guys I'd been with would have been onto their next victim by now. He was different.
Alex came onto my channel again during the Friday night show, "I like your face. I like your face even more when you use it to smile at me. I like your lips best when they're on mine, though."
"Hi, Alex." I giggled at him.
"Hi, sweetheart."
Sweetheart? My heart rose to my throat, he'd never used a pet name with me before, I liked it, my grin wide and involuntary, I was glad he couldn't see me.
"What's up?"
"Just thinking about you."
"Dude, just come up to the booth, then, there's no one else in here right now."
He started watching the show from my booth, giving his techies direction over the headset from the stool next to me. We shared Sour Patch Kids and kisses in equal measure. We'd make out for a little while in the wings or in my booth before he went home each night. Each time leaving me exhilarated and frustrated, wanting more of him. Wishing he could stay, wishing he'd invite me back to his place.
"I've got a bed here." I winked at him one night when he broke our kiss with a yawn that stretched his mouth and crinkled his eyes.
"Tempting…" He tucked a stray curl behind my ear, tipping my chin down to kiss me again, "but I gotta go."
I smiled and nodded, he never stayed. I wondered if he ever would, or if Lafayette was completely right. Maybe this was something that I shouldn't have gotten myself involved in. I smirked to myself, almost nothing that I did should I have gotten myself involved in, but here I was.
A two show day, between shows he left to get himself dinner and came back with a very full bag of takeout, he found me in the greenroom, still empty with the cast out to eat.
"Hungry?" I quirked an eyebrow at him.
He tore the plastic bag open and handed me a styrofoam container, "no, dummy, brought you dinner."
"What?" I grinned at him.
He sat on the floor next to me, shoving half an eggroll in his mouth in one bite.
"Thank you." I smiled and ate an eggroll of my own.
"So, where'd you grow up?" He asked once he'd swallowed.
"Uh… South Carolina?" It wasn't a question, it was an answer, but it caught me off guard, most of our interactions were physical, silently making out behind the stage, quietly running fingertips up each other's thighs while listening to our own channels through headsets during shows. Head nods from opposite wings as we passed each other. It was silly how much I liked him with how little we talked about anything significant.
"Thought I heard something southern in your voice, it's sexy, though. New York's a little different, huh?"
I laughed, "yeah, lots different. What about you?"
"Moved here when I was a kid, I'm…" he rubbed his face, deep in thought, "Chile-Domini-Cu-Rican? But I always just say I'm from Queens. We moved from Puerto Rico when I was like five or six after my mom died so I don't really remember anything other than New York."
I nodded, this was the most I knew about him.
"I've never been out of the country."
"I haven't since I moved here, but it's all good, just gotta take a train and you're in a whole new place, we got Chinatown and little Italy and little India, Koreatown, little Dominican Republic where I live… because I'm a walking cliche."
"Washington Heights?"
"The very one. You know people up there?"
"Dated a guy once, y'all hide the good pernil up there," my mouth watered thinking about it, "I'm… vaguely Hispanic? Puerto Rican-ish, he wanted me to 'get in touch with my roots.'" I shrugged.
"Didn't work out, huh?" He asked.
"Yeah, not so much. But y'know, at least I didn't date Thomas Jefferson." I nudged him playfully with my shoulder.
"Ugh, I should just go off myself." His cheeks burned red.
"Who would I bother after shows then?" I pouted at him.
"Fair, fair."
I giggled and wrinkled up my nose, "what did you even see in him in the first place?"
Alex grinned at me behind his rice filled fork and took a bite, saying around the food in his mouth, "the dude's hung."
I gaped at him and laughed into a bite of orange chicken, "Alex!"
"It's true. Probably why I stayed with him so long. He treated me like shit, but, damn the dude could fuck."
"You're a mess."
"I know. Sometimes you just get lonely, man."
"Yeah… I hear that."
"Why are you single, anyway?"
"Uh…" I thought about it, "because I live in a theatre and don't talk to anyone?"
"That works out well for me. I mean, if you weren't all 'Phantom of the Opera' I'd be screwed, you'd have dudes lining up for you."
"Shut up." I felt the heat in my face again.
"I'm serious," he was staring at me, "but I gotta know, how far do the freckles go?" he reached over and tugged at my collar.
I pulled away with a giggle, "nope, it's a secret."
"My God, you're totally covered in 'em, aren't you?"
I rolled my eyes and nodded.
"Wait, so how does a theatre guy end up covered in freckles?"
I puffed out my chest and did my best impression of my dad, "'theatre is for women, Jackie. You'll play sports like a man!' My dad refused to believe that I was a gay, theatre nerd and forced me to play sports and it's hot in Charleston and so you spend a lot of time running shirtless and… so, yeah, I'm covered in freckles…"
He licked his lips, shook his head like he was clearing it "sorry, you lost me on, 'running shirtless,' is that a thing still? Where do I sign up to watch that happen?"
"It doesn't, I hated sports."
"Bummer... Jackie?"
"Or Jack, yeah, it's a nickname from when I was a kid."
"Do I get to call you that?"
I shrugged, "if you want to."
In tandem, our headsets squealed with a message from Lafayette tuning into the master channel to call for everyone on stage. More shows passed, summer was in full effect. I loved summer. It was the part of home I missed, hot days on the beach. I liked how much less humid it was in New York, my hair did, too. Alex grumbled about the heat, still wearing all black and long sleeves every day to be as concealed on stage as possible.
It was Sunday, I loved Sundays, just a matinee, then the rest of the evening free to relax or sketch or do whatever. Alex looked tired, more so than usual, he leaned against me while we kissed, arms holding himself up, clinging around my neck.
"You want to come kick it for a bit after the show?" I asked him during the finale.
"For just a little while, then I gotta go home."
"Yeah, of course. I get it if you're busy." I tried to hide my excitement. He always said it was too late after shows, but the matinee gave him plenty of time to get home.
We wrapped the show and he worked with Lafayette to give performance notes to improve for the next show. I gave new instructions to my crew, acknowledging the mistake that kept being made during the second act. I led Alex back through the theatre to my room once everyone else was gone or too busy to notice. My futon was still pulled out from last night. He flopped on it and groaned.
"You okay?" I giggled at him.
"Just fucking beat."
"Same." I took off my shoes and sat next to him.
He kicked his shoes off as well and sat up on my bed. We were right next to each other, we'd never done this before, never gone back to my space since the day he was so sick. He kissed me and then pulled back, tugging his hair out of his bun. It was rare for him to wear it down, but I loved it each time he did, how it framed his face and hung around his shoulders.
"You look beat, darlin'." I stroked his shoulder. I'd decided to start using pet names, too, especially when I could pull out the twang that stuck around in my voice. He didn't seem to mind the names.
"Oh, yeah. I'm exhausted." He used a hand to press me flat against the futon, kissing me the whole way down.
We made out, hot and heavy like that, him on top of me, his body so close to mine, hands working through my hair. I closed my eyes and let the sensations take precedence. How his kisses felt, soft and warm, gentle but forceful, the prickle of his goatee on my face. My own hardness wanton between my legs. I wanted him, wanted everything, wanted to kiss him forever. He seemed happy to oblige with the last part.
Eventually he rolled off of me and we kissed lazily side by side under the blanket. Spoke a few sentences to each other, another peck, talked a little more, another. He fit so perfectly in the crook of my arm. My free hand found his hip and I stroked it, tracing circles with my fingertips. His eyes fluttered shut and I watched him for a few minutes, how pleasing his face was relaxed with sleep, the stress and worry that creased his face ironed out, just how long his eyelashes were. His hair tangled around his face, hoodie seeming to dwarf him in his sleep. I fell asleep next to him. He was so warm, occupying all my senses, his coffee and cigarettes smell, his slow, even breathing, his body in my arms.
I was stunned awake by the ringing of an unfamiliar phone, Alex rolled in my arms and picked his phone up off the floor. I was clearly no longer his priority even as our legs were still tangled together, he let out a string of curses as he answered, still in my arms. He was close enough that I could hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Daddy? When are you coming home? I thought today was an early day, right?" Daddy? The voice was so small.
Alex sighed, "yes, baby, I'm sorry, okay. I'm headed home now, I got caught up with some stuff at work. I'll see you soon. I love you."
"Okay, you promise you're coming home?" The little voice in the phone asked.
"Swear."
"Okay, I love you, too, daddy."
Alex groaned and hung up. I tried to keep my face smooth and unsurprised.
"So, I have a kid." He sat up and started to put his shoes on.
He has a kid? He has a kid. Okay. A kid, kids are cool.
I hung my arms around his neck and rested my cheek against his shoulder, "what's his name?"
"Philip." He tied his hair back up into its messy bun.
"Can I see a picture?"
He illuminated his phone and handed it to me, the lock screen photo I'd seen the other day. I smiled at the picture, looking at his bright hazel eyes, the freckles across the bridge of his nose.
"He's so cute, Alex. He's like the most adorable human in the world." I gushed at the picture.
"Thanks," Alex smiled, his lips tucking up into one side of his mouth, "I have to get home."
"I'll see you tomorrow. I liked our nap."
He left and I curled back up on the futon, it still smelled like him. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. So what if he had a kid. That wasn't that big of a deal. Especially not with that cute of a kid. I liked kids, came from a big family, I wasn't sure why he thought it was such a big deal. Lots of people had kids! Someday, I hoped I would. He had nothing to be ashamed of. I hoped he'd listen to me.