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Rex studied the man across the dinner table. Keith's tan stood out among all the winter-pale people, and had drawn a couple comments, as well as many admiring stares. 'Damn! He's always been good looking, but, since he came back from Miami, something's changed. He's more confident, more assertive, more . . . everything.' Rex did his best to push aside an unpleasant thought. 'I wonder if this change has anything to do with that . . . talk . . . Jak mentioned the two of them having, and, if it does, what sort'a person will Jak be, when he comes back.' "So . . . ," he began, drawing Keith's attention away from his steak. When Keith looked up and grinned, quirking his brows in query, Rex decided to plunge on. 'It won't hurt to ask.' "Tell me what went on down in Florida. You headed down there shaking in your boots, about what might happen, and have come home a different man. What happened, and how does this change involve Jak?" Keith laid his silverware down. "You're right. I did go down there, shaking in my boots. Jak though, was right, all along. There was no reason to be afraid. The guys, including the bosses, made me feel welcome, from the moment Dave picked Jak and me up at the airport. I couldn't have asked to be surrounded by a nicer group of guys. "It wasn't all them, though. I found something in me which could deal with the new situations I was put in." Keith grinned. "I tend to joke around, sometimes, and that worked great. No one was ever quite sure whether I was certifiably crazy, or was just temporarily out of my mind." He snorted a soft laugh. "Sometimes, I think I even had Jak confused. "I was proud of myself, Rex. I don't think I could have survived, no matter how nice everyone was, if I hadn't been given all those months of Jak's pep talks. "He was wonderful. Every time he introduced me to someone, he stood at my side, with an arm around my waist, giving me his support. When he saw I was going to do okay, he'd drift away and leave me on my own. Lots'a times, though, I'd look up and see him watching me, making sure I was okay. "He was soooo concerned that I had a good time." "What about when he was working? Was that as rough as you thought it'd be?" Rex's eyes widened. "Geez! If I'm getting too personal, just let me know, okay?" Keith nodded his bowed head. "He was scheduled to do two vids, one with Ron, and a second with Daniel. He did the one with Ron, while I was there. The one with Daniel's scheduled for this week." Rex nodded, recalling talking to his brother about both. "Well . . . I didn't realize that, along with actually making the vid, the guys would be hauled out to someplace for a photo shoot. I thought the vids were the only thing, but, since I've never seen the site, what do I know?" Rex grinned, at how, even now, Keith would not visit the site. 'He knows Jak is having sex with different guys. It's one thing, to know it's going on, and another, to see it. Those photo shoots look like they're intended as practice for everyone, and to show some sexy pics of the guys for the Site's members.' "So," Keith continued, "While I was there, he was busy doing the first one of those. Then, there were two interviews; one of 'em with a gay television station from . . ." he paused, "I forget where they're from. And the second with a magazine. He had to do another photo shoot for that. And, of course, that vid with Ron. Every time he came back from an interview though, he was bothered by something. He never did tell me what was going on, but something was." Keith grinned. "He bitched and moaned all evening about that last photo shoot." Rex raised his brows, asking why. "They had someone . . . a woman . . . work on him," Keith explained. "What?" Rex burst out, forgetting they were in a restaurant. Keith laughed. "You didn't let me finish! I guess they wanted to touch him up, or something, so they had someone . . . not the woman . . . shave his chest hair, and whatever, before they turned him over to the woman, who was there to apply make-up. Geez, you would have thought he'd been asked to have sex with a dog, or something! "'They trimmed my eyebrows!' he shouted at me, as he got out of the car. 'And then put some sort of colored crap on my lips, plus who knows what else! Oh, yeah!" he continued, making a motion with a hand, to accentuate what he was about to say. "They put some dark sort'a crap on my eyelashes . . . 't'make 'em stand out!' he called, looking to the sky, as if asking for patience. "The moment the damn thing was over, I demanded to be allowed to take a shower! I wasn't sitting around made up to look like a cheap hooker!' "'An expensive hooker would have been okay, though,' Dave, the chauffeur and vid guy, laughed, causing Jak to give him a dirty look. "'Geez,' Jak groaned, 'People are going to see me with all that stuff on my face n'all! Being asked to develop a tan line, and having my butt, n'everything, shaved, is one thing, but this is too much. And . . . a woman! There I was, starkers, and this woman . . . she looked like my friggin' mother, wanted to put make-up on my dick! Imagine!'" "'Imagine,' Dave teased. 'He doesn't mind everyone seeing him naked, with a hard-on, or showing off his butthole, but, make-up, heaven forbid!' "'My mother! She looked like my mother! I almost called her Mom, for pity's sake! At least she was dressed!'" When Rex finished laughing, Keith continued with the story. "Dave shook his head and smiled, as Jak stomped off, intent on complaining to Levi about the woman. "'What he's really upset about,' Dave said, leaning close, and lowering his voice, 'is that he was so embarrassed, his dick shriveled up, so that she had a tough time touching it up. She wanted him to get it hard for her, so she could do her job.' Dave burst out laughing. 'Jak was appalled! He told her, 'No way I'll ever get hard in front of you, lady, so, work with what you're given, or leave me alone! And . . . don't get any smart-ass ideas about touching me. I'm not paid enough to allow that!'" Rex could barely control himself, he was laughing so hard. "So . . . you've avoided my question about how you felt during all this stuff," he finally asked. Keith looked away, then down at his meal, and, finally, at Rex. "The first time . . . when he was making the vid with Ron, was not good. If I'd had to hang around, I would have been in tears, or something. But one of the guys, Daniel, gave me a cool baseball cap, then took me on a tour. We had a great time, and saw a bunch of stuff . . ." "But . . ." Rex prompted. Keith heaved a sigh. "Jak didn't take my being away, enjoying myself, very well." "What?" "Rex . . . the details of all this are between Jak and me, okay? I've prob'ly already said more than I should have." "When he was on the phone with me, and you interrupted him, that's when you settled all this, isn't it?" Keith nodded once. "Yeah, we had a good talk . . . 'bout lots of things." "Did he pay attention? He better have," Rex said, in a warning tone. "Yeah, I think he did. He's got some things to work through, though. It's probably going to take him some time, and I hope he's able to work everything out. There may be more going on than he's even told me. I don't know. All I know is that all this notoriety is messing with his mind. He's doing his best to not let it happen, but . . ." Keith shrugged. Rex studied the man across the table. "And . . . what if he isn't able to work things out?" "I don't know," Keith murmured, unable to meet Rex's eyes. "I do know, though, that I don't want you working on him, or anything. This is something he needs to work through on his own, or he and I need to work through. Rex, please, he doesn't need your input, no matter how well intentioned. Okay?" "Yeah, okay, but I think this sucks. In the bad sense," he added, "not in the good sense. "Can he do what needs t'be done?" "Yes, without a doubt. He has to do it on his own, though, for it to make a difference. It can't be an act. He knows it's necessary. He knows I love him, and will do whatever I can to help. But the whole thing is going to take a pretty major mind-shift on his part." * * * "Hi, Dad!" Jak said, as he heard his father's voice. "This is your oldest boy, and, geez, I need t'talk. Are you free? This might take a while. "No . . . no, nothing happened. Things here are fine. Well . . . there was a little bit of a run-in with a woman who wanted to put make-up on my dick, but, other than that, things are okay." He paused. "It is not funny! She looked like Mom, and there I was, sitting on a friggin' chair with my legs spread . . . starkers, while this . . . woman . . . hovered in front of me with a damned paint brush, playing Michelangelina, or something. Jak listened, as his father attempted to stop laughing. "Yeah," he finally admitted, after some prompting. "I was so freaked, my dick shrank up, until it practically disappeared! The things I'm asked to do just to earn a buck! "Yeah . . . very funny. Ha . . . Ha. Well . . . no, that's not why I called. It is great to hear your voice, though. Geez, Dad, I miss you! I was telling Ron, one of the other guys, about how I talk to you, all the time. He couldn't imagine doing the same thing with his father. I always knew Rex and I have something really special, with you as our dad. I forget just how special what we have really is, until I hear someone else talk about their dad. Oh, Ron's dad is a great guy, but his and Ron's relationship is not at all like yours and mine. "Anyhow, I was feeling awful the other night, and called to talk to you. You were at the gym, or something, so I settled for Rex, and, of course, he was right about everything. Why is he always right? Why can't I ever be right? Then, there's Keith! He's about as bad as Rex! He sees right through me and knows what I'm thinking, when I don't even know, myself! "All I know, is I've been feeling like crap, and then, there I am, out on the beach in the friggin' dark, splashing around, acting like a mad man, shouting and carrying on, yelling at Rex, telling him things I didn't even know I thought! And Keith heard me, and put me in my place, and now, I'm not sure how to feel. I know Keith and Rex are right. They're telling me I need to change. I know they're right; I just don't know how. It's not like I can wave a magic wand, or something, and voilá, I'm fine! It's not that easy! "Some of it's in my mind, I know, but . . . sheesh, Dad, some people treat me like shit . . . photographers . . . that sort'a people, and I have to take it. I'm being paid to smile, and accept whatever stuff they throw my way. Naw, I'm not talking about paintbrush-wielding women. In many ways, people like her are the least of my problems. "Uh, okay. What do you mean I'm not making any sense? You, Dad, are the only person I know who doesn't seem to know what I'm thinking, without me having t'say it! It is soooo refreshing! "Yeah . . . change. I need t'be doing quite a bit of it. If I can't, or . . . won't, I'm afraid of what kind'a guy I'll become, or if Keith'll want to have any part of me." Jak paused, gulping past a lump in his throat. "I've been brought up to believe people are better than many of the ones I'm meeting down here. No . . . Levi, Dave, the models . . . they're all awesome. It's almost everyone else. "Yeah . . . things are pretty serious. Take those photographers, for instance . . ." * * * Keith had finished telling Rex about his trip to Florida. Now, it was Rex's turn to talk. "Yeah, things here have been just fine. A bundle of laughs. Jak calls and yells at me, then apologizes, and asks if the two of us are okay, and I'm worried about him and you. Then, there's all this with me being fifteen," he said, almost spitting the word. "Too many things are happening, and at the same time, not enough is happening . . . to me, that is. I'm really worried about Jak. It's not like him to yell . . . at me, or anybody. Something's going on in his mind. Every time he comes home he's more preoccupied . . . less like the guy I grew up with. The only time he really seems happy is when he's around you. I think that's cool, but it makes me feel even more alone. Jak's always meant more to me than just as a brother. I hate to see him bothered, like he has been. When I ask him what's going on, he says he doesn't know. He says it's not you, and I believe him. So . . . it's got'a be something about that job of his. Something's making him act crazy. "On top of all this, there's my age! I should just tell people I'm eighteen and be done with it. No one would know the difference, 'cept they'd wonder why I'm still in school." He shook his head, taking a quick breath, then hurried on. "Keith, I don't want to wait for three friggin' years to have sex with someone! I know there are guys out there . . . older guys . . . who'd take a chance with me, but," he shuddered, "they're not the kind'a guys I want touching me. Besides, Dad and I had a talk, about me and older men, the other night, and I promised him, that, before I did anything, I'd bring the guy home for him to meet. Well," Rex flopped back in his seat. "That promise pretty much ensures me not being able to have sex with someone for the next three years. "If this goes on, by the time I am eighteen, I'm gonna be so friggin' horny no one's gonna be safe. Hell, I'm not even supposed to kiss someone. I'd be happy, if I could find someone who just wanted to swap spit. We wouldn't even have to get undressed, or . . . or anything. Just hugging and kissing would be awesome. I'd be more happy, a'course, if we were naked n'stuff, but . . . I'm not like other guys I know. There's more to being with someone than just getting your rocks off. If I can't get my rocks off with someone 'cause they're afraid of going t'jail, why can't they at least hold me, and kiss? People . . . guys treat me like I'm contagious, or something!" He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. "I don't like this one bit! I'm not a six year-old, for pity's sake. No one's taking advantage of me. I know what I want. Even though I can't have all of what I want, why can't I have some of it?" * * * "So," Levi began, as he and Jak settled into a couple of the overstuffed armchairs in the living room of his sprawling house. "Now that you're about ready to head back home, how do you think everything went, having Keith down here?" Jak stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, as he lay both arms along the back of the sofa, in a pose of studied relaxation. "What do you want to know?" Levi shook his head in exasperation. "Since when have you felt it necessary to become so guarded with me?" "I . . ." Levi made a dismissive gesture. "That wasn't being very fair, but, Jak, something's going on up here," he said, pointing to his head, "and I want to help, if I might." "Are my performances a problem?" "What? No! I'm not having any problems whatsoever with you. However, where you were once open and laughing, telling me of your dreams for Keith and yourself, now, you are closed. Something's happened. "Did Daniel, Cody, or Ron, cause any problems for Keith? Or, Dave?" Levi added, after Jak shook his head. "It seemed to me Keith had a good time, while he was here. Did he not?" "He had a great time." Jak tenderly smiled, recalling his and Keith's nightly telephone conversations, since his lover had to head home, and go back to school. "It's all he talks about, in fact. Everyone made him feel at home. "My brother tells me he's done nothing but talk about how great everyone was to him, and how much he enjoyed everything, except what he calls, Florida bugs." Levi laughed. "So, he's come across some of those, has he?" "I guess." "He told me the other day, when we were talking on the phone, that he thinks he'd like to live down here. He only has a year of school left, and he's thinking he'd rather do that, plus any graduate degrees he might work for, down here." "But that's wonderful!" Levi began, than slowly sobered. "Isn't it?" Jak shrugged, then stood and began to pace. "Hell if I know!" he said, in an exasperated voice, as he raised his arms, then dropped them. "Everyone I know seems so damned . . . grounded, and here I am, not knowing what's going on!" He collapsed into a chair, with a whoosh of expelled breath. "Levi, I'm so confused, I hardly know who I am any longer. Am I Soren? Am I Jak? And what does my not having a clue to the answer mean for myself and those around me? I don't understand what or who I am, or what I'm all about. I'm so . . . confused. "When I'm back home, everything seems so simple. I know who I am. I know what I want from life. No one's griping about my smile or . . . whatever. I'm in love with a wonderful man. I've got a stellar father and brother, and, even though I've not seen her in a while, a wonderful mother." "But?" Levi prompted, disturbed by the implication that someone was treating one of his models badly. 'Who?' he wondered. 'None of the other models, surely. I would have heard.' "But . . . all I need do is get on an airplane to head down here, and things . . . change, I change, what I am changes, what I want from life changes. How I react to things, to people, to everything, changes." "And what about your feelings for Keith, your brother, and father? Do they change, as well?" "No," Jak bowed his head. "I don't think so." "What are you afraid of?" "Of living down here, and losing myself. I'm afraid I'll no longer be plain ol' Jak Rollins, and will start to think of myself as Soren. He's a character, Levi! He's not real. Yet, at the same time, he is. He's a part of me, and that scares the daylights out'a me. I don't know what thinking of myself as Soren means. He's a different man than me, Levi! He revels in the attention he gets. He loves giving autographs, and everything else . . ." Jak lowered his voice, and his eyes. "He's not too happy though when attention shifts to someone else." "Keith?" Levi asked. "Yeah, him . . . anyone." "Keith has told me he's seen a change in how I behave. He says he sees me growing to not only like, but expect people to treat me like a star, or something. Before he cornered me, down on the beach, I didn't think I was behaving like that." He turned to his boss. "What's wrong with me? I feel as if I'm two different people!" "Jak, doing what you're doing, you are bound to think of yourself differently than when you were a student, struggling to make ends meet. You are a celebrity, much like a star quarterback in football, or a rockstar, or something. Maybe not quite as much of a celebrity, but, you get my meaning. You are no longer the man you were when we met. You are more than you were then. You can never be the same person you once were. Life experiences have changed you. "You would have changed, even if you'd never come down here to work for me. That's what life is all about . . . change. "As much as I like Keith, he's not spent any time away from home, has he? If he had, he would be more understanding." "He's not having problems with me changing. He's having problems with me believing I deserve some sort of adulation, or something. He thinks I'm growing to expect it, and he's said that no matter how much he may love me, he will not worship me, like many people seem to." "Do you disagree with his comment? Would you wish him to treat you differently than he does? Would you rather he not have told you of his feelings?" "I don't want to be worshipped! I don't want people nitpicking everything I do, either. I'm doing the best I can! I try not to complain, but geez, Levi . . . sometimes . . ." "Is that what you really feel, or is it what you believe you should say . . . about being worshipped, I mean." "Huh?" "Think about it. Are you telling me you don't believe you're somehow special, because you really think you're not, or are you saying it because you believe that's what you think is the right answer? "You are special, Jak. You're special to Dave and me, just as you are to the men you've worked with. You make us all feel good about ourselves. You've never seen the behind the scenes behavior of ninety-eight percent of the men who work for me, but I have, and I know those men treat one another differently than you treat them. "During a scene, you make them feel good about themselves because of how you treat them. You're aggressive, yes, and that's wonderful. But you're not aggressive at their expense. You show them how much of a good time you're having by how you treat them. You make them feel special. "When a scene's over, you thank them for a wonderful time. WHAT? The first time I heard you say 'thanks,' I was flabbergasted. No one, I mean no one, has ever done that. It's like those guys think, 'Okay, I've gotten my rocks off, the scene is over, I'm out'a here!' "Not with you. You have an intuitive feeling for what your partner needs to hear, or do. So when you both have shot your loads, and other guys would be heading to the showers, you will continue to cuddle. The guy leaves feeling . . . wonderful. Hell, I feel wonderful, just watching, as do the site's members! "You don't watch your vids, do you?" "Um . . . no. Should I?" "Not if you don't want. If you had, though, you would realize that, on a few of them, we've put in some of those scenes, with you and the other model, into the final vid. Those scenes have been enormously popular. "Our members like watching you bust a nut, but, more than that, they get off on watching the subliminal things you do, the way you treat your partner. Jak, whether you would call it love, or respect, or something else, you are demonstrating what each and everyone one of us wishes to have in our life." Levi grinned. "I've had some people write telling me you've ruined them. They say that after watching you they won't settle for anything less in their partner. On the other hand, I have many others write and tell me that, after watching you, they have been inspired to treat their partners better. Later, those same people will write to tell me how much better their relationships are because of what they learned by watching you." Jak bowed his head and bit his lip, as he tried to control his emotions. When his shoulders shook, in a losing battle with the emotions, Levi quickly moved to his side and held him close. "I'm not doing anything special, Levi," he complained, gulping for a breath of air. "I'm just being me. I don't deserve to be treated special because of that, any more than I deserve the shit some of those photographer folks throw at me. Am I just too sensitive?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes, I don't know what I'm feeling any more." "Who's treating you special? Many people are changing their lives, and those of their partners, because of you. That's a wonderful thing. They're not treating you special. "Dave and I feel privileged to work with someone who is not only easy to work with, but makes our lives easier because of the sort of person he is. I don't think, though, that we're treating you special." "But . . .," Jak gestured to the surroundings. "Sitting with me like this . . . talking. Do you do that with all the guys?" "Yes, when one of them needs to talk, Dave or I listen. So," Levi chuckled. "See, even in that, you're not special. "If what Keith says is true, the only person who thinks you're special is you." Levi paused. "That sounded more harsh than I would have wished. "Jak, people admire you, they love you, they want to be your friend, or follow your example, because you're a good guy." "But, I'm treated differently than the other guys. I mean, the interviews, and extra photo shoots, n'all. And, those people . . . the way they act . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "You're being paid to do those things. Jak, as I believe I once told you, way back when we met, I am running a business. I am in business to make money. I hire people, such as yourself, to help me make money. I saw something in you which I felt our site's members would be able to relate to, so I offered to pay you for that intangible thing. "I was right. People saw the same thing I did." "Thing?" "Charisma, or whatever you call it. You have it. Your father has it, and I would not be surprised to learn that your brother has the same thing. You are a good person Jak. Maybe you should stop thinking about special, and concentrate on being yourself. Continue treating everyone as you have been. Be a good guy, and all the rest will take care of itself." "But that's Soren acting, not Jak." "I disagree. Soren is nothing more than the aggressive side of your personality. He's not some sort of extra person inside you which you let escape whenever you're down here working. He's always been there. Most folks don't pin a name to one aspect of their personality. It makes about as much sense as naming your right hand. Why would you? Your personality just is, just like your hand. The name, Soren, means absolutely nothing, other than to be a name our viewers can call you by. We could just as easily have called you Bozo, or Lancelot, or something equally ridiculous. I think you deserve better than being introduced as Bozo, now, don't you? I mean, it's nowhere near as cool as Soren." Jak laughed. "Bozo, I like that." He turned to his boss and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Levi. I'm a lucky guy t'have such a great friend as you. Maybe I need to come in and get a pep talk after every photo shoot, or whatever." 'And . . . whether you choose to admit it or not, my friend,' Levi told himself, as they hugged, 'you are special.' It was only later, after Jak had left for home that Levi began to wonder what was going on at the photo shoots that would trouble Jak so much. * * * "Dave," Levi murmured, as the two men lazed on one of the large sun beds in the courtyard. All the models had been delivered to the airport, and it was time for Levi and Dave to spend some time together. Even though their relationship had changed, since Pete left, they still cared for one another, deeply, and spent every night at one another's side. "Hmmmm?" Dave hummed, as he trailed a finger over Levi's chest. "Are you aware of any problems Soren may be having, when he goes out onto photo shoots, or interviews?" "No, why? Has he mentioned having trouble? Photographers can be assholes. I thought we were choosing reputable people. If there was any question, I wouldn't have allowed him to go alone." There was a smile in Dave's voice. "He wasn't talking to you about the woman who tried to put make up on his dick, was he?" "Noooo . . . though you'll have to tell me about that, later. "I don't know if there have been problems. I had a very disjointed conversation with him, before he returned home. He's having problems integrating the Soren character into his view of himself. But . . . there's more going on than that. Maybe he's unable to articulate things yet, but we need to keep an eye out." "Jak's a sweetheart. He's much more complex than the supremely self confident man we see in his vids though. I think that, sometimes, even he is surprised by how he acts. What do you suggest we do? Ask him what's bothering him?" Levi thought a moment. "No, I'm not sure he'd be able to tell us. Let's wait a while and see if he comes to either of us. We should, however, pay more attention to his behavior when he comes back from a photo shoot or interview. It may be that we're working him too hard. The problem is, he is soooo much in demand. If the schedule I've set is too arduous, or he's being browbeaten, or anything else, we need to be aware of it, and make changes. "Jak is too important to both you and me, to have him suffering, especially if I've been the root cause." * * * Jak stepped closer to Keith, glad he'd worn a heavy sweater. He thrust one hand into a pocket and linked fingers with Keith with the other, as they walked across the darkened university campus, on their way to dinner. "Well, Spring has finally arrived," he mumbled, loving the warmth of his lover walking next to him. "It's so weird, to be flipping back and forth from the heat and humidity of Miami, to the weather up here." The fragrance of daffodils hung in the still night air, as the two men paused at the side of the bell tower. Jak turned to Keith. "Oh, baby, I love you, so much," he said, then drew Keith to him for a lingering kiss. "Ohhhh, that's nice," Keith sighed, as they parted, and he lay his head on Jak's shoulder. "I've missed you, since I got back home. I like this separation-business less and less. "What'd Rex think about being invited down to Florida? Same with your father?" Jak softly laughed. "He was trying to figure out a way to skip out of school, for the next two months. I probably should have kept things quiet, but Dad had to know of the invitation so he could make vacation arrangements at work. Whenever I've spoken to him on the phone, he's been talking more and more about relocating, which is thrilling Rex to no end." "I've been thinking the same thing," Keith said, glancing toward Jak. "Then, we could be together! No more hotels, and flying back and forth!" Jak drew Keith into an embrace, then almost immediately held him at arm's length. "You're not talking about quitting school, though, are you?" Keith laughed. "No! I've worked my tail off to get this far. I'm not about ready to quit! I have been doing some investigation, though, and, there are two schools which will offer me a scholarship for my final year, plus graduate school. "Umm . . . I was wondering if I could wrangle an invitation to go down when your Dad and Rex go, so I could decide which scholarship to accept, and, if things work out, you and I could find someplace to live." "Oh, lover!" Jak laughed. "I'm sure Levi would be happy to have us stay at his place, along with Dad and Rex. We could get a hotel, though, if you want. You going down there isn't dependent on Levi inviting you. We'll also need to rent a car, so you can get around. "You could come down with me, in fact. I'm going to be there for a couple weeks before Dad and Rex arrive, doing a couple vids, and an interview, or whatever. In fact, I won't be going back until then. Levi told me Cody'll be back the next time I'm down there, plus Boyd and Jace. I've never met Jace. It'll be nice to see Boyd again. You'll like him. A swimmer-type guy." * * *-- Jak and Keith looked up as two hesitant college age guys approached, nudging one another on. "Autograph," one of them croaked, holding out one of the restaurant's cloth napkins. "Um, would you mind?" "We'd appreciate it," the other man added. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the hottest guy on that site. It is so cool to see you in person." "An autograph? Sure, I'd be happy to," Jak smiled. "I'm thinking you'll prob'ly want my partner's autograph, too. He's the star around here." The two men's eyes lit. "Yeah, sure! Thanks! This is awesome. D'you guys live here, or are you just passing through?" "We're visiting," Jak said. "Beautiful place, though a bit chilly for me. I'm accustomed to palm trees, n'stuff," he grinned. Jak signed the napkins the men provided, then gave them to Keith. "There you go, lover." "You . . . you're . . . lovers?" one of the men almost gasped. "F'real?" "Yep, I'm a lucky guy," Jak added, as Keith handed the napkins back to the two men, who thanked him and Jak profusely, then returned to their table. "So . . . Hank," Jak grinned. "Y'better limber up on those autograph-signing skills. They go with the territory." "Hmm, okay. It's sort'a a game, isn't it? Signing those napkins, and using a fake name, doesn't hurt anyone. The guys can go home and tell their friends they met someone famous, and his boyfriend . . . and they look just like . . . normal . . . people!" Keith teased. "At least the one with the buzz cut wasn't wearing lip gloss," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Don't even think of going there . . . Hank." "Okay," Keith reached out to briefly squeeze Jak's hand, where it rested on the table. "It's clear you've been doing quite a bit of thinking about our beach-side conversation." Jak bowed his head, and nodded. "How can you tell?" "Easy. You've begun to see all this autograph-stuff as nothing more than a game, too, haven't you?" "Yeah, I guess. There are still lots'a things I've got to figure out though. Levi tells me that Soren and Jak are two sides of the same person . . . me. The trouble is, there are things about that Soren side, I don't like, one bit. I don't only not like them, I'm afraid of them, and what they'll do to me . . . to us. "You give me strength to face things needing facing." Jak was silent for a moment then grinned, as he picked up the black marker one of the departing men left behind, and scrawled a message on a napkin, which he handed to Keith. "I love you, Hank," the message read, and was signed, "Soren." * * * "So, we're really gonna get t'go down and meet some of the guys!" Rex exulted, flopping back onto his father's bed, as Steve changed out of his work suit. "Y'think I'll have a chance to watch first-hand, as they make a vid, or something? Jak wouldn't mind, if I watched. Maybe I . . ." "Rex, please! Don't start planning everyone's lives, okay? From what Jak tells me, we'll be arriving just as the last group of guys Levi and Dave will be hosting, for a while, will be leaving. I imagine any vids will have already been made. If you're lucky, though, you might get to meet some of the guys. Meet them, Rex, not suck them off!" "Yeah, okay. So, I guess I shouldn't hope for one of 'em to bust my cherry, huh?" "Your cherry?" Steve laughed. "Not a proper term to use, when speaking of guys, young man. And, no, I wouldn't expect the guys to line up to fuck you, or bend over for you to do them." "This vacation is sounding less fun by-the-moment. Hell, I can stay home and masturbate." Rex rolled onto his stomach, causing his father's cock to twitch at the sight of his son's bare buttocks. "So, Dad . . . what're Jak's bosses like? Keith says this Levi guy is sort'a tall, with black curly hair, and a . . . a commanding presence. Those were his words. I'm not sure what that sort'a presence is." "It's what I wish I had more of, so a certain young man would pay more attention to me, from time-to-time." "Oh. Too bad you don't have it, then, huh?" Steve gave his son an over-the-eyeglasses look, which was completely ignored. When he went to the bureau and pulled out a pair of sweats, though, Rex took notice. "Why d'you need t'get dressed? Hanging out nekkid is way better. Maybe you could tell me what sort'a interesting things have been going on at that gym of yours. You could tell me all about all the cool stuff you've been experiencing, and I could jerk off, listening to your story. What'cha say? "Have you gotten t'slide your dick up someone's asshole, yet?" Rex asked. "Where do you guys do it? In the showers? Where? "So you don't have to ask how I know what you've been doing . . . you've been coming home, smiling. You've been going to the gym when the gym is closed, and, small stuff like that. So . . . tell me all about it. You can jack off, too, unless you're not too worn out from earlier . . . y'know. And, 'cause you're too old n'stuff, t'shoot more than once a week. "So . . . have y'shot already t'day?" Rex asked, scooting to the head of the bed. He leaned back against the pillows, and spread his legs wide, giving room to his thickening cock. Steve dimmed the bedroom lights. "Damn, I love your chest hair," he said, as he turned an armchair to face the bed. He sat down, throwing a leg over each arm of the chair, feeling extremely . . . nasty . . . for displaying himself for his youngest son. 'He may be my youngest son, but he certainly doesn't look any less mature than his older brother. Jak wasn't this . . . developed . . . when he was Rex's age. And . . . Rex is, without a doubt . . . developed.' "C'mon, Dad. Stop staring. Tell me what you've been up to." Rex snuggled back, among the pillows, as he slowly toyed with his erection with one hand, and teased one of his nipples with the fingertips of the other. "A guy, named Matt, and I have been seeing one another, to have sex. Neither of us is interested in having a relationship with the other, but . . . damn," Steve grinned, as he rubbed a fingertip over his cock head, absently toying with the opening. "He's good at what he does." "Oh, yeah?" Rex asked. All Steve did was smile. "The two of us hang around in the showers, until the gym's 'bout ready t'close. One time, Andy, the guy on duty, came through the locker room, t'make sure everyone had cleared out, and found us. He asked if he could join in, and, since then, he'll ask if we plan on staying late. When the gym closes, he'll lock up and come back to the locker room, where he strips-off, and we play." "Aw fuck," Rex murmured, as he slowly stimulated his erection. "Matt loves getting fucked," Steve continued. "He's a college-age guy, with the bubble butt of a football player. He loves having a guy in him when he's lying on his back. Andy and I will switch-off. Andy'll fuck him, while I sit on Matt's face and he licks my asshole. Then, we change places." Steve slowly stimulated himself, recalling the feeling of Matt's tongue working its way inside his hole, and watching Andy's thick dick spread Matt's sphincter, as it worked its way inside. "I like to have Andy shoot first, 'cause that means I can use his slippery load as lube, when I slide in." Rex loudly groaned, writhing on the bed. He'd abandoned toying with his nipple, in favor of fingering himself, as he listened to his father's story. From Steve's point of view, the sight of his naked son, masturbating, was nearly as exciting as what happened at the gym, less than an hour earlier. "So . . . ," Rex managed, between breaths. "It feels good, t'have someone's . . . tongue working . . . its way into your hole?" "Oh yes," Steve murmured, as he climbed onto the bed and faced his son, spreading his legs wide, inviting Rex to toy with him, using a foot. Rex quickly figured out what was expected, and probed beneath his father's scrotum with his toes. "Yeah," Steve sighed, as Rex rubbed across his asshole. "So . . . you shoot in him, Dad?" Rex asked, close to his orgasm. "Once you've popped, d'you lick his asshole, then share your juice?" "Naw. I let Andy lick the hole. I scoop up some of the spunk leaking out of Matt's butthole, and spread it across mine." "Aw fuck!" Rex almost howled. "You let him fuck you?" "Yeah," Steve breathlessly replied, intent on his own approaching orgasm. "Yeah, he's got a great dick. When he shoots in me, Andy . . . the gym worker, slurps up some of the juice leaking out'a my hole. He does the same for Matt, then kisses us and shares some of the loads." Rex squeezed his eyes tightly closed, arched his back, as he fisted his erection, then shot. It never ceased to amaze Steve to see either of his sons climax. They literally exploded. The first jet of Rex's orgasm splatted against the headboard. The second splashed onto his chin, while the third merely left a thick trail of liquid over his belly. "Ah fuck," Steve hissed, as some of his own load landed on his son's foot. "That . . . that was awesome, he murmured. When he opened his eyes, he had to smile. Rex had sat up, and had pulled his own foot to his mouth and was eagerly licking it, slurping up his father's jiz. "Geez, Dad, that was great. Thanks for telling me 'bout the gym. Y'think I can go? No one needs t'know I'm only fifteen." Steve climbed across the bed and switched off the bedside lamp, then lay down and drew Rex to him in their accustomed night time position. "Somehow, handsome, I knew you were going to ask that." * * * "Keith, I need t'talk about some stuff. I was thinking I could give Rex a call. He's always full of advice, but I'd much rather talk to you. You've been to Florida and met the guys. You have a better sense of what I face." "What you face? Is this more about the stuff we talked about when I was down there?" Jak shrugged. "That, and more. You say I'm behaving differently, since I came back. I don't notice any difference." Keith smiled. "Aren't you feeling any better?" Jak thought a moment. "Yeah, I guess . . . some." He sat on the sofa, urging Keith to sit at his side. They linked fingers, as Jak worked through his thoughts. "After you left Florida, to come back home, I had a long phone conversation with Dad, and another, even longer one, with Levi." "And?" "Both of them said the same thing . . . basically. Jak and Soren are not two different people. They're both me, with the name, Soren, being given to me for no other reason than to keep the Site's visitors from knowing my real name, and because it's a cooler name than plain ol' Jak. It's like I'm in a stage play, or something, and that's my character's name. It sounds so simple, when it's put that way, and I can sort'a understand it all, but, why do I act one way around you, and another way down in Florida? "Why can't I be the same, both places? People still want a something of me, no matter where I am." "As far as being the same person in both places, you already are. I think you're finally beginning to realize it. You're acting . . . differently. As for people wanting something of you. I don't understand what you're talking about." Jak flung himself away from the sofa and began to pace, his distress evident in every word, in every movement. "Maybe I was naive." He snorted a disgusted laugh. "I know I was naive." "About what?" "What it means to be a porn . . . star," he said, using his fingers to form quotes around the word, star. "I thought, it'd be so simple. They'd pay me big bucks to have sex with someone. I mean, how difficult can that be?" He made a don't answer that, gesture. "After all, I'm young, I like sex, I get an erection at the merest suggestion that I'm going to be able to have sex. I figured the job would be a breeze." "But, it's not . . . what you expected?" "Forgive me, Keith, if I upset you with what I say, but it's how I feel." "I understand." "The sex part is easy, and I have fun. At least . . . the first time I was down there, I had a great time. Then, I met you, and my definition of what was fun changed. I wasn't interested in all those guys nearly as much as I was the first time, and every time I was with one of 'em, I was dreaming of you. You were the one I was having sex with, not the person I was being filmed with. "But, that's not good enough! Now, more n'more people want something of me . . . other than just simple vids! They want an interview, they want me to pose, and tell 'em the secrets of life, or something. If they want that, they should talk to Rex, not me!" Jak barked a laugh. "Turn Rex loose on 'em and they'll back off! Y'know, one of those interview folks wanted to know what sort of girls turn me on and what my girlfriend thinks of me doing porn. "Imagine! Everyone in the friggin' room knew that was a dumb-ass question. "I think you're under the impression you're interviewing a man who likes to have sex with women," I told the woman. "Maybe you're in the wrong room and that guy who likes girls is waiting for you to show up." There were lots of laughs, but I felt bad for snapping at the lady like that. Before she was able to escape, though, I did manage to apologize. I don't know if it meant anything to her, but it did to me. "But . . . Keith! With each magazine interview, or television interview, or photo set, or video, more people want more of me! Those people are . . . are . . ." he hesitated, "crazy!" He shook his head. "When I leave one of those photo shoots, I feel like pond scum, or something. I don't believe I've ever heard a civil word from any of 'em . . . not one! They won't even stoop to say something like, 'good morning.' No, it's, 'strip! Let's get busy!' And . . . and . . . 'thank you,' is like a foreign language! "I'm beginning to understand why we hear of some of those movie star folks ranting at people who are following 'em around t'take hidden pics of them. I have to watch everything I do. I mean everything! Heaven forbid if I should ever scratch in what I think is a private moment. I'm not even sure this place isn't being watched. I'm so worn out by all this, I'm beginning to see bad people where there are none. So," he snorted, "now, I'm being paranoid! "I'm afraid of what crazies will do, not only to me, but to you. You didn't volunteer for any of this; yet, here I am, bringing all of it and laying it in your lap. And then, to make matters even more complicated, the Soren . . . part of me, really gets off on the attention. Not the attention from the interview people, but . . . everyone else. That part of me eats up all the notoriety. I believe I'm nothing special, yet Soren thinks he is special. How can he and I be part of the same person? "Then, there are the autographs. Autographs!" He barked the word. "Autographs are the least of my worries. People wanting to touch me, just so they can say they touched Soren, the porno guy, are way worse than people wanting an autograph. I don't know where they'll stop! Some people don't like being told, no. They want something, and damn it, they're going to get it! You're no longer human. You're nothing more than an image of a guy they're accustomed to seeing on the Web. "I was afraid at the restaurant tonight. Not of the guys who asked for the autograph. They were harmless. I was worried about the other people in there. What might they want from me, or, worse yet, when am I going to meet someone who needs to prove his masculinity by attacking someone? I can't live my life locked away, doing nothing but making porn vids! What'll that do to you? Hell, what'll that do to me? "What's it going to come to? Bodyguards? Sure, the money's great, but is it worth this?"
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