Chapter Thirty-Two

When he opened his eyes, it was dark. He could feel an aching in his limbs, but within a few seconds, he realized that it was a good kind of ache, the ache that came after having had sex for the first time in a very, very long time.

He could hear Cameron breathing steadily beside him. He was thirsty. Between the two men there lingered the sweet smell of sex, the musky odor of two men having finally given in to their lust. Dax could have happily fallen asleep once more but the craving for water was too strong. Besides, he needed to pee.

Carefully moving so as not to wake Cameron, he slipped into his boxers and padded out to the landing. He used the bathroom and then went downstairs. In the kitchen, he filled a glass of water and gulped it down. He heard the creaking of floorboards above his head and he knew that Cameron had stirred, too. In an old house like this, there was no getting away with sneaking around: the old place was bound to give you away at any second.

Now that Dax had drunk water, his belly rumbled with hunger, so he pulled some bread out of the packet and popped it into the four-slice toaster. As he did so, he felt two strong arms loop around his waist, bare skin pressing against his back, and two lips kissing his shoulder. He turned around and Cameron leaned in to kiss him deeply. For a few seconds the two men tasted each other’s mouths, only this time with less frantic lust than before. More with gentle affection and tenderness.

That wasn’t to say, of course, that the kisses had no effect on either of them. On the contrary, Dax felt his cock stirring within seconds, and he was hard, and as he moved his hips, he felt Cameron’s erection rubbing against his hip, too. “Fuck,” the therapist whispered. “What are you doing to me?”

Dax smiled. “It’s all your fault,” he said. “You can’t blame me for any of this.”

“There’s something I need to ask you,” Cameron said, his eyes serious. Dax pulled back and looked at him.

“What is it?”

“Please tell me that you’ve put some toast in for me, too?”

Dax laughed. “What would you do if I said all four pieces were for me?”

“I’d tell you that I’d never suck your dick again.”

Dax groaned. “Don’t say that,” he said. “I’ll give you all four pieces right now, I swear.”

Cameron kissed him. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said. “Just two’s fine.”

“Butter and jelly?”

“Jelly?”

“Sorry. Jam.”

“Yes, jam. Jelly’s another thing entirely. It’s a wobbly dessert you eat with ice cream at kids’ birthday parties.”

“Ah, yeah. You mean jello.”

“No, you mean jello,” Cameron teased. “You’re in my country now, remember?”

He went to the fridge, and like Dax, was only wearing his boxer shorts. Dax took a second to appreciate the sight of his firm ass. His erection was subsiding for the moment, his empty belly a more pressing concern at present. He buttered the toast and slathered it with strawberry jam, and the two men munched on their snack. It was a little after ten, and Dax was disoriented, his body clock not knowing what on earth was going on.

He couldn’t recall a time he’d slept so soundly, even long before the accident. So many of his nights were spent partying, and he would usually fall asleep in a drunken stupor in the early hours of the morning. His body was still working so hard to process all the alcohol in his system night after night that he never really felt rested. Now, though, whether because of the hours of slumber, or simply because of the endorphins rushing around his body thanks to sex with Cameron, he felt good. Healthy. Well.

Earlier in the day, he hadn’t felt that way. The memory of his fight against himself had him looking down a very dark tunnel, and he’d been about to head down there, into the abyss, but he’d taken a chance, and it had paid off. A chance to declare his own feelings, and the response had been very favorable indeed.

That evening, Cameron came into his bed without either of them talking about it. They made love until the early hours, and Dax realized what it was like to have sex with someone who was still there the following morning. No sneaking out, no feelings of shame or embarrassment. And, most amazing of all, no photographer trying to land the snap of their career at Dax’s expense.

Over the next few days, the two men saw each other in a whole new light. The sexual tension Dax hadn’t even known was there had finally been addressed, and a weight had been lifted. Cameron was still keen to ensure Dax’s recovery didn’t slip, though, and they continued their time as therapist and patient.

Sitting at a weight machine in the gym upstairs, Dax reached up to a bar above his head, slowly pulling it down and releasing it back up again. He concentrated on lifting correctly, and although the weight still wasn’t very large, he was careful not to tear any of the muscles in his back.

“So, did you know?” he asked Cameron, who was standing in front of him, his arms folded as he watched to make sure Dax’s technique was safe.

“Know what?”

“That I like guys.”

Cameron smiled, but it wasn’t a cruel smile. It looked a little sad. He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I knew before we met,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never been one to follow tabloids about celebrities, and I have to confess that I don’t really know anything about your career, but it was pretty much seen as an open secret.”

Dax nodded. “I know it must sound so dumb to you, but I had no idea it was that obvious. I didn’t know that people knew. I thought that all this time, I was going out and meeting guys and getting away with it. Sure, there was the odd story in the media but my PR team cleared it up so fast that I didn’t hear anything else about it. I didn’t know that they were basically trying to protect my feelings but by doing that, they were keeping me from the truth.”

He felt foolish. As though everyone else had known about him the whole time, but he’d been blind to it, thinking he’d been clever the whole time, thinking nobody had really noticed. But by confronting it, by saying it aloud, he knew that deep down, he’d always known that it wasn’t a secret.

“What about you?” he asked. “Do people know?”

Cameron shrugged. “I’ve never denied it, and I’ve never withheld it from anyone who wanted to know. But I’ve never felt the need to tell anyone. I mean, I’m left handed. I never think about it. I just write with my left hand. But if you go back just a hundred years, or maybe less, people would think you were crazy for being left-handed. They’d accuse you of witchcraft.”

Dax paused in his reps, releasing the bar above his head. “Maybe one day they won’t think I’m crazy,” he said, staring at the floor.

“Who thinks you’re crazy?” Cameron asked.

“Everyone who tells me that it’s wrong for me to have these feelings,” Dax said.

“But who’s telling you this? I’m confused. If the hatred for your feelings is coming from yourself, then you need to learn how to deal with it, and how to learn to love yourself.”

Dax rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You’ve been talking to Doctor Pravenda.”

“I take it she’s told you the same,” Cameron replied. “And she’s right. Because I can see it from a mile off, and so can she. You don’t love yourself. You’ve got hordes of fans and millions of people around the world who adore you, but none of it means anything if you can’t accept yourself for who you are.”

Dax didn’t say anything. He shook his head and looked at the floor. Cameron could never understand what it was like to be him, to have the weight on his shoulders that he’d had since he was eighteen.

“Look at me,” Cameron said, and Dax lifted his head, staring into the green eyes that pierced deeply into his soul. “Anybody who tells you that being gay is crazy, isn’t worth your time. They’re not worth your love. They’re not worth your attention. And I think you’ve been surrounding yourself with people like that for so long, that you’ve been fed their bullshit.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I wanted to be famous,” Dax said. “It’s my fault.”

“What, what?” Cameron was incredulous. “You’re holding yourself to a decision you made when you were barely an adult? Plenty of people have the skill and the dream to be a star. But the chances of making it are a million to one. So what, you have to spend the rest of your life selling out just to see your name in lights?”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Good. Because I’m afraid I really don’t.”

“I have a duty to be true to the person they’ve created,” Dax said. “I have responsibilities to my fans, to my team. If I fuck up and expose myself, then everyone loses.”

“Wow,” Cameron said, softly. “They’ve fed you this bullshit for so long that you’ve really started to believe it now. It’s like you’re in a cult. The kind of cult where you have to show loyalty to the supreme leader, because they’re the one pulling the strings. But you can’t see it’s a cult until you’re out of it.”

He knelt down and stroked Dax’s face. “They’re wrong to tell you that you’re anything other than perfect as you are,” he said. “And I wish you could see what I see. Because once you do, your life is going to start properly.”

Dax gazed at him. He could feel the touch of Cameron’s fingers on his skin, and it was the most genuine thing he’d ever felt. He wanted so much to trust him, to believe that what he was saying was true, but each time he felt he might just be able to grasp at the chance, it melted away from him again, the reality of his life causing him to come crashing down once more.

“Work out who you really want to be,” Cameron said. “If the fame and the stardom’s enough for you, then keep at it. Go back to America and keep being the boy next door that all the girls go crazy for. But there’s so much more to you than that. And it’s really sad to see someone being forced to be someone they’re not, just to line the pockets of assholes in suits, smoking cigars and counting their money.”

In a flash, all Dax could see was Grant, sitting at his desk, doing just that. He thought about all the times his manager had barked at him, humiliated him, shouted him down. He recalled the way he’d pleaded with Grant, begging for just a little time off from the touring, or space to clear his head. Grant had always refused.

Now, in front of him, Dax had someone who seemed to have his best interests at heart, and yet this scared him too. Cameron’s words made sense to him, and terrified him all at the same time. He sensed that in the distance, a new path was starting to become clearer, but he was far too scared to walk down it, for fear of what Grant had always threatened: the end of his career. Obscurity. Desolation.

Sooner or later, he was going to have to face things. For now, though, it wouldn’t hurt to explore things with Cameron. He lifted his hand to Cameron’s, which was still on the side of his face. He held it, leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, and Cameron’s hands moved down his body. He kissed Dax’s neck, murmuring with pleasure at the smell of fresh, clean sweat at the back of Dax’s head.

Dax couldn’t resist his touch, the sensation of his lips. He leaned back on the workbench and swallowed, groaning, as Cameron reached into his sweatpants and released his cock, placing it into his hot mouth and pleasuring him in the way for which he had a certain knack.

While the worry of tomorrow was never far away from his mind, for now Dax melted into ecstasy, the feeling of Cameron’s mouth moving up and down his shaft enough to push his anxieties aside, at least for a little while.