He was sitting on the aforementioned awesome sofa flipping through a script his agent had FedEx'd over when his phone buzzed. And immediately grinned when he saw it was a text from Jamie. Jamie had taken to texting him at random times over the past few weeks, normally with some pithy comment or another about someone he'd just met or some place he'd just been. It helped them to pass the time until they'd get to hang out again – it had been a long time, Channing thought. He'd missed the crazy bastard something fierce, for a multitude of reasons that were probably best not articulated. The text read:
"'Lo?" "Man, you have got to stop trying to hook me up with your sister." Jamie's laughter was like a burst of bright sunlight, and shot straight through Channing like a bullet. "So, I should ring dating agency back and say no, then?" Channing was grinning so hard he thought he might have cracked something in his face. He had no idea why talking to Jamie always put him in such a good mood, but he wasn't going to question it. "Dude, I've already told you, like, a thousand times, you're my leading lady, which totally makes you my date for the night. So wear something nice. You look good in blue." "Blue it is, then. But I must insist on a suit instead of the traditional dress." "You can wear a suit if you wear eyeliner. It looks sexy on you." Of course, everything looked sexy on Jamie, but Channing wasn't going to feed his ego by saying it out loud. "I could be persuaded. Boxers or briefs under?" "Definitely briefs. They look better on you than boxers." "Was that a compliment about my ass, Chan?" "You know it," Channing giggled, feeling a little like a kid getting away with something, then glanced across the room when Jenna strolled in, Lulu trotting at her heels like the lovesick puppy she was. Channing knew exactly how Lulu felt. God knew he trailed after Jenna just as often for the same reason. "What're you so amused about?" Jenna asked, giving Channing a soft smile. "Ah, nothing, just Jamie and me having some fun," Channing replied, and slouched against the cushions so he could watch his wife wander around the room in nothing except a frilly-looking thong and a long t-shirt. He really was the luckiest bastard on the planet. "I take it by your heavy breathing that Jenna's wearing something skimpy?" Jamie asked, and Channing could just hear the smirk in his voice. "You're just jealous you don't have something like this to look at." "You could always send me a picture." "I could," Channing conceded, "but I'm selfish like that." "Bastard." "Hey now, you've met my mother." Jenna stopped in front of the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water (Channing half-hoped she'd get a glass to pour it in since they were on the top shelf and she'd have to stretch, but he was, sadly, out of luck), and then came back into the living room. "Tell him hi for me. How's he doing?" "Devious and brilliant as ever," Channing said. Jamie just snickered. "Making plans for London?" "Don't worry, I already said no to the sheep," Channing told her, over Jamie's very vocal protest. "Although, I did con him into being my date since you're not going to be there." Jenna's laughter flowed across the room like sun-warmed honey. "Does he know yet that being your date means he has to put out?" Channing put on his most wounded expression. "C'mon, now, babe, you know that rule's only there for you." "So you don't want me to put out?" Jamie asked – who'd clearly overheard – with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. "Wait, you want to put out?" Channing asked, shocked, because there was no way Jamie meant it, just as Jenna motioned for the phone. "Let me talk to him." "Why am I scared right now?" Jenna smiled sweetly. "I have no idea." "Jenna wants to talk to you," Channing told Jamie. "I always enjoy conversing with your lovely wife," Jamie said and, out of arguments, Channing passed over the phone. "Hey, sweetie," Jenna said, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder. Channing couldn't hear Jamie's reply, but whatever it was, it made Jenna laugh in the most delightful way. Jenna moved back into the kitchen, her voice low enough that Channing couldn't hear what she was saying (not that he was trying to eavesdrop or anything, he totally respected his wife's privacy, even if she was talking to one of his friends), so he went back to his script after a couple of minutes. He may as well try to slough through it. Lulu curled up beside him and Meeka trotted in a little later on the way to the kitchen in search of food. Jenna was gone so long that Channing was surprised when she dropped the phone back into his lap. "He wants to say goodbye to you." "Huh?" Channing looked at her stupidly for a second before clarity returned. "Okay," he told her, then picked up the phone. "What in Samhill were you two talking about?" "Nothing really, just making plans to run off together for a vacation," Jamie replied, amusement clear in his voice. "Am I invited?" "Sure, but I'll warn you, we talked about going skiing." "No more cold weather," Channing groaned. "Can't we go to Maui or Bora Bora or something. White sand beaches, Jenna in a bikini...I'll teach you to surf." "You can plan the next vacation," Jamie soothed him. "Listen, I've gotta run, but I'll text you later, alright?" "Sounds good, brother. Stay warm and dry out there." "Don't burn anything off until I see you next," Jamie replied, and hung up. Jenna bent over to scratch Meeka's ears. Channing took the time to appreciate the view down the front of her shirt. "How's the script?" she asked. "You're not going to tell me what you guys talked about?" "You never ask me what Joe and I talk about." "Yeah, well, that's because it's Joe," Channing shrugged. Joe tended to be the exception to just about every rule. Channing would hate the bastard if he didn't love him so much. "You know he's as much yours as mine." "Speaking of Joe, I think you should go visit him for a few days." "Wait, what?" Channing wondered if he'd missed part of the conversation somewhere as he gave Jenna a puzzled frown. He could've sworn they were talking about what she'd talked about with Jamie. "Like, in New Orleans?" "Exactly," Jenna beamed at him. "But I just got home two weeks ago." "I know. I just think it'd be nice for you two to see each other while you have the time. I'm going to Michigan to film Setup at the end of the week, so it's not like you need to stick around here for my sake. And if the filming schedule holds up, I should have a couple of days so I can fly down to join you two. Maybe I can drag Ryan with me." "You have an ulterior motive," Channing declared, aware that he was still frowning. He was definitely missing something. "I'm onto you." "Possibly," Jenna smiled, and it was so beautiful that Channing forgot he was annoyed and that he still didn't know what she'd talked about with Jamie, and tugged on her fingers until she tumbled into his lap. He buried his face in her hair. She smelled like the vanilla sugar lotion she always wore. "Love you," he murmured, because he loved saying it, and it was true. He'd known she was The One within an hour of meeting her. "Love you too," she replied, and kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, the caresses butterfly-soft. "So...you'll go visit?" "Since I'm sure you've already talked to Joe about this and he's expecting me, it'd be rude of me not to go." "Not as dumb as advertised." Channing nodded, all serious earnestness. "I am more than just a pretty face." "Totally." Her answering nod was equally serious. "You're also a rockin' body." "It's your shallow nature I love most about you." "When it comes to your ass, I'm as shallow as it gets." Channing waggled his eyebrows. "Yeah?" Jenna just playfully pushed his shoulder before Channing ran a hand along her bare leg and started nuzzling her neck. "Wanna go to the Jacuzzi and make out like horny teenagers?" "Why would I want to do that when I can go out to the Jacuzzi and have wild sex with my husband instead?" "Babe, I love the way you think," Channing stated, and stood, swinging her up in his arms. *** There were half a dozen emails (all either from Channing's agent or production partner) when he landed in New Orleans, a missed call from his sister (he made a mental note to call her later), a text from Jenna featuring a photo of herself and Ryan, blowing kisses at the screen (he quickly texted back with the obligatory 3SOME!!! comment he knew he was expected to make), and a text from Jamie:
"Frilly lace nightdresses are so not me," he stated, when Jamie answered. "Wouldn't you rather I play Hook?" "Hello to you, too, Chan," Jamie chucked. "And you can't play Hook." "Why not, man, I think I've got the swordfighting thing nailed down." "Admit it, you just want to chase me with a pointy stick." "And your point is?" Channing cackled, tickled by his own (admittedly bad) pun. "You do know the story's really about Pan rejecting Hook's advances, right?" Whatever it was Jamie was on, Channing wanted some of it. "Uh, ooookay?" "Hook totally wanted to tap that ass, that's all I'm saying," Jamie replied. "So, essentially, you'd be after my ass again. Is that really the message you want to send to the movie-going public for the second film in a row we've worked on?" Jamie'd been arguing from day one of rehearsals for The Eagle that Marcus had been completely in love with Esca, and that explained all of Marcus' actions where Esca was concerned. Channing couldn't really argue, not after he'd read the book the script was based on. Still, it didn't mean Jamie had a point about Hook and Pan, 'cause, uh, no. Now, him lusting after Jamie's ass was a completely different story, not one Jamie needed (or probably wanted) to hear. "Dude, Peter Pan is a kid's book!" "Maybe Hook liked little boys." "Fucking pervert." "Was that I kettle I heard?" "Oh my God, I am so done with this conversation," Channing groaned. "I'll see you in London. Try not to ruin any more children's books for the general public." "Don't pick up any tranny hookers in the French Quarter." Channing was still laughing to himself when he stepped out of Louis Armstrong International Airport, and immediately remembered why he hadn't been out to visit Joe before now. New Orleans may be one of the best cities on earth, but even in February, the humidity was off the chain. Every breath felt like inhaling molasses. It was sort of like being back home in Alabama, only stickier. Joe was waiting for him outside a sleek black town car that hopefully had air conditioning. "So, I see the missus is already sick of you," he said, pushing up the frame of his glasses with a finger. He was wearing his customary cargo shorts and flip-flops and a bright red t-shirt, and just seeing him put Channing in a better mood. It had been awhile. Channing shook his head sadly. "I know, right, I'd feel all insecure and shit that she might be sleeping around on me, but she'd only cheat on me with you, so." "I keep telling her to ring me up whenever she dumps your hick ass to the curb." "You're not the first person to tell me that this week," Channing said, then the next moment, Joe'd pulled him in for a friendly one-armed hug. "Hey, do you think Captain Hook wanted to bang Peter Pan and Pan rejected him and that's why Hook was all pissed and shit?" If Joe thought the question was completely nuts, he didn't let on. "Yeah, totally. You could definitely make the case for a lot of unresolved sexual tension between them." "But it's a kids' book." "So?" Joe replied, then grabbed Channing's bag and tossed it into the back of the car before crawling in. Channing followed, and the driver pulled out of the airport. "Right, why would I think a children's story isn't perverted and about unresolved sexual tension between a prepubescent boy and a grown man." He reminded himself never to let Joe and Jamie meet while he was around. "You should check out the original Grimms' Fairy Tales sometime, it'll freak your shit out." "I'll take your word for it," Channing said. "Oh, before I forget, congrats on the Batman gig with Nolan. Sounds righteous." "Thanks," Joe grinned. "Not that I can really talk about it with anyone yet." "I haven't told anyone." "And let me state that I'm amazed at your discretion." "I can keep a secret," Channing huffed, but wasn't offended when Joe just snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, whatever. Hey, I was thinking of doing another HitRECord thing while you were here. Up for it?" "Hell yeah, man, whatever you need, you know that. I was actually in Randsburg where we shot the last one with some reporter from GQ." "I know, you drunk-dialed me about the creepy mannequin." "It was a really creepy mannequin, alright," Channing protested, then paused. "Wait, I did? Did I tell you that I lost my phone that night, but someone found it and mailed it back to me?" "No shit." "Yeah, can you believe that? I had, like, four missed calls from Jamie, and a couple of really lewd texts. He would have loved the place, man, it would have been a riot." He really should take Jamie up there next time he and Jamie were in L.A. Jamie needed to meet Bernadette and Olga. He wondered if Jamie was into camping. "Five minutes, man." Joe shook his head forlornly. "What?" "Nothing, just a bet Jenna and I made about how long it would take for you to bring up Jamie's name." "I, uh." Channing wondered if he should apologize, then shrugged it off. It wasn't like he could help it that Jamie was on his mind a lot. He cast a sidelong glance at Joe. "Why, are you getting jealous or something?" Joe just patted him on the shoulder. "Not at all." "That's right, you've been cheating on me with your own Charming British Bastard." And Tom really was one of the most ridiculously charming people Channing had ever met, too. Although maybe he just had a thing for slightly mad British guys these days. He blamed Jamie for that, too. Joe lifted an eyebrow. "I haven't even seen Tom in forever. Besides, that dude is so in love with his best friend it's not even funny." "Wait, who're we talking about?" Talking with Joe was always like this. Just off-kilter enough that Channing felt like he was floundering slightly with every conversation. He was pretty sure Joe did it on purpose. "Who's Tom in love with that's not you?" "Benedict Cumberbatch. He's Sherlock in that new BBC series, been friends with Tom forever...and by friends, I really mean friends with insanely sexual benefits, to hear Tom talk about it." "Ah, right. So...wait. Like, for real, Tom's in love with this Benedict dude?" "I never lie about true love." Joe put his hand over his heart in emphasis. "I thought Tom was engaged and had a kid." "Yeah, because being in an open relationship is something you've clearly never heard of," Joe replied, with a smirk. "Okay, fine, whatever, I shouldn't cast stones. Speaking of, Jenna's gonna join us for a few days when she's got a break. Said she'd try to drag Ryan down with her." "Excellent." Josh rubbed his hands together like a super-villain in a Connery Bond film. "I haven't seen Ryan in forever." "It'll be a proper reunion." Then Channing pinned Joe with his best 'serious discussion' look. "So, you mind telling me why I'm here." Joe just gave him an angelic look that was a little disconcerting, mostly because Joe didn't have an angelic bone in his body. "In the metaphysical way or the physical way, because I'm not entirely sure I'm up to giving you the Zen lowdown on why we're all here and what it means." Channing silently counted to ten so he wouldn't smack Joe upside the head. Infuriating dick, he didn't know why they were friends. "In the why the hell am I with you sweating my ass off already in New Orleans instead of hanging by the pool in L.A. with my wife way." "Um, because your wife – and your dogs – are in Michigan with Ryan, and all you do at the house when they're not there is mope?" "I do not mope –" "– and I thought we could use the time for a last hurrah before you dump your old boyfriend in favor of the new one," Joe concluded, with another dimpled grin. "Jamie is not my boyfriend," Channing protested, and winced at how unconvincing he sounded. He really was a better actor than that. "Ahhh, but the fact that your mind automatically went to him first is pretty telling, though." Joe sounded a little like a high-school professor. "This, by the way, is why I don't come visit you." "Because I don't let you get away with anything?" "Also, you're not my boyfriend," Channing said, because it was easier than arguing with Joe about how right Joe was about Jamie, or rather, what he wanted Jamie to be. "It's a stupid term at our age." "You'd rather I refer to myself as your fancy piece on the side?" "There's nothing fancy about you. How about I call you my back door man?" Joe groaned at the pun. "Crude, but somehow fitting." "Hey, if the shoe fits..." Channing laughed, then rolled to his side when Joe just shoved at him. "Shut up or I'm making you walk to the hotel." *** Joe had a couple of scenes to shoot still, so Channing made himself at home at the hotel (he always stayed at The Monteleone when he was in New Orleans because it was this old, gorgeous French hotel right in the heart of the Quarter) and then wandered around sightseeing until Joe could meet him for dinner. They wound up at this amazing seafood place off Chartres, then decided to head to Frenchman to catch a few live bands. According to Joe, there was this insane blues band that played Apple Barrel on Thursdays that were criminally amazing. Joe definitely had a point, Channing thought, well into the band's third set, and several beers and shots of Patron later. The rhythm section alone was unreal, and the guitarist had probably played with BB King or some shit. But then, that was New Orleans for you – throw a rock and you'd find ten great restaurants and ten great bands. It was one of the reasons it was one of Channing's favorite cities, insane humidity notwithstanding. Joe was sitting on a stool just beside the band, swaying to the beat with this blissed out look on his face that reminded Channing of Jamie so much that he had to call Jamie right the fuck then. (He had impulse control issues when he'd had a few, it was a thing, alright.) He made his way out of the tiny bar to the sidewalk, teeming with people and a brass band playing some sort of crazy fast Zydeco number right in the middle of the street, and pulled out his phone. Jamie answered with a bleary "Hello?" that tightened something in Channing's belly. He really was so gone. Either that or he'd had more to drink than he'd originally thought. "Oh my God, dude, you should be here!" Channing shouted, already feeling better now that he'd heard Jamie's voice. "Chan, is that you?" "Hell yeah, dude. How are you, do you miss me?" "You do realize it's six in the fucking morning where I am." "Did I wake you?" Which was a dumb question, and Channing knew it, but his brain felt a little fuzzy at the moment. Jamie just sighed, but he didn't hang up. "Exactly how drunk are you?" "All the Patron in the world, brother, don't worry, it's all good. Wish you were here. There's this killer band jamming up a storm in the bar and out in the street is a second-line band doing their thing, it's awesome. You ever been to New Orleans?" "No, but I did a film in Savannah, Georgia. That's in the South, right?" "Yeah, but Savannah's nothing like New Orleans. That'd be like me saying Ullapool is like Glasgow 'cause they're both Scotland." "Totally understood," Jamie answered on a yawn. Channing could picture him so clearly, all bleary eyes and crazy spiked hair, nestled under the blankets of his bed...and, yeah, he needed to stop that train of thought right now before it got embarrassing. "Anyway, you should come visit. I could show you around." "You there filming or something?" "Nah, just visiting Joe. Last hurrah before things get crazy, that sort of shit." Channing had told Jamie about his and Jenna's agreement with Joe one night in Scotland. Jamie had been fascinated at the idea that any functioning couple had an actual safe list. ("I can't believe I know real, honest to God swingers, that's amazing." "Uh, dude, it's not like that, it's just..." "Shut it, let me have the fantasy.") "Sounds fun," Jamie replied. "I miss you, man." "You're drunk." "Yeah, you've said that already," Channing pointed out, feeling proud of himself for remembering. "Besides, in vino veritas, or whatever the saying is." "Meaning?" "Meaning I may be drunk, but I still miss your scrawny ass." "You'll see me in a couple of weeks," Jamie pointed out, but Channing could tell he was touched. "C'mon, admit it, you miss me, too," he wheedled. "I never said I didn't, love," Jamie replied, in a soft voice that clenched something tight in Channing's gut. "You and me, man, we are going to tear London up." "God help me, I'm looking forward to it." "Me, too. Hey, look, don't have too many x-rated dreams about me, alright." "Don't pass out on the sidewalk," Jamie replied, and Channing could practically feel the grin when he hung up. He turned to head back inside the bar and almost ran into Joe, who was grinning far too wide for someone who wasn't inhaling helium. "What is it?" Channing asked, frowning in suspicion. Joe normally only grinned like that when he was laughing at Channing for whatever reason. "Man, you have got it so bad." "I do not." "You do too." "What are we, five? He's a friend." The last thing he wanted was Joe thinking this was some sort of weird competition. Because it wasn't. Joe was Joe and Jamie was Jamie and that was that. "Are you seriously trying to feed me that line? Me?" "Nothing's going on." "But not because you don't want to do anything." "I'm married," Channing reminded him, then felt like an idiot for saying it. Because, yeah, this was Joe he was talking to, not some stranger in the street. Joe rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Chan, come on." "He's not on the fucking list, alright," Channing finally sighed in exasperation. He couldn't believe he was even having this conversation. "You sure about that?" "Wait, are you...oh my God, you and Jenna talked about this, didn't you?" He continued without waiting for a reply. "I can't believe you guys talked about this." Channing spun away, then spun back, completely ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of the street. "Of course we talked about this, stop acting so shocked," Joe replied, patting Channing's arm. "Come on, dude, you look like you need another drink." He took hold of Channing's elbow and dragged him across the street to D.B.A. "Fuck my fucking life," Channing groaned, putting his head in his hands. Joe just shoved him onto a bar stool and signaled the bartender for two Abitas. "It's your own fault, man. We wouldn't've needed to conspire if you hadn't been so stupid stubborn." "What's to be stubborn about? I don't even think he's interested in me like that." "You're like a cuddly teddy bear, who the hell could resist you?" "Well, there's a ringing endorsement." "Shut it. He's interested," Joe stated, with complete conviction. "And you know this how?" Channing demanded, then blanched as a horrifying thought occurred to him. "Oh, dude, please don't tell me you've..." "Relax, holy shit, you should see your face," Joe laughed, pointing at him with his beer bottle. "No, I haven't talked to the guy. But I trust Jenna. She said he seemed way into you. Said he laughed at all of your dumb jokes." "He did...wait, what, I do not tell dumb jokes," Channing protested, clinging to the tattered remains of his pride like a lifeline. He was renowned for his jokes, man, ask anyone back in his modeling days. "Yeah, you really do. But it's cute. Endearing even," Joe added, when Channing just glowered at him. "If you keep this up, I swear to God, I'll shoot you." "You should talk to Jamie." "Joe..." "I bet you a thousand bucks he's interested." "I bet you two he's not," Channing retorted, feeling a little like he really was back in kindergarten or something. "You're on," Joe pronounced, smacking a hand on the bar, and Channing had the sinking feeling that he'd been played. Again. "No, come on, that wasn't a real bet." "Too late, we already agreed to terms." "I hate you," Channing groaned, banging his head against the scarred wood surface. Twin dimples showed when Joe smiled. "Love you too, brother." *** Morning – well, what was left of it – came far too soon. Channing rolled out of bed feeling like eighteen shades of hell, with cotton mouth and mysterious bruises on his ribcage (he didn't remember falling, but there had be a lot of tequila and beer last night, and the sidewalks in New Orleans were for crap) to find Joe, far too bright-eyed and awake, standing at his door. At least the bastard'd had the decency to bring two cups of chicory coffee and fresh beignets. "I am never going drinking with you again," Channing stated, grabbing his head as he stepped aside to let Joe in the room. "Not my fault. I didn't drink." "What the hell are you talking about, you were tore up last night," Channing said, sinking into one of the plush chairs and clutching his coffee cup like the lifeline it totally was. "Yeah, but that was weed, not booze," Joe told him. "You should smoke pot more often, I keep telling you that." "Whatever, I'm going to try showering. If I don't drown myself, can you order up an old-fashioned Southern breakfast for me?" The beignets were great and all, but what he really needed was grease. And all of the bacon in the universe. "Sure thing. And then we can talk about how you're going to go after Jamie." "Definitely drowning myself," Channing muttered. Then, louder: "Have pity, man, I'm so not even close to even fifty percent right now." "I have ideas, though..." "I really don't want to know." The idea of Joe with, well, ideas, especially where Jamie was concerned, was enough to scare him straight, pun totally intended. "You could always try singing to him," Joe suggested. "Serenading is a time-honored tradition." He was so beating the hell out of Joe as soon as his limbs cooperated with him. "Fuck you, man, that's not even funny." "Your voice isn't that bad." "You've really got to stop pumping my ego like this, I'll get a complex." Joe tapped at his chin. "Somehow I don't see myself as the Echo to your Narcissus." "Didn't she kill herself or something when he rejected her?" Channing asked, pleased that he actually knew what the hell Joe was talking about, for once. "Stop changing the subject. You're supposed to be working on ways to approach Jamie with your big gay mancrush." Channing sighed. This was so not his life. The real housewives of whatever the hell county were more than welcome to this sort of Telenova drama. "Okay, seriously, do you see any way for me to say anything that's not 'So, I, like, like you, um, a lot, so, yeah?', which sounds completely ridiculous, by the way, not to mention he'd probably piss himself laughing if I tried it." "Wow, that's, like, an eloquent speech right there, man," Joe said, licking sugar remnants off his fingertips. "You should go work for Hallmark." "I swear to God, I'm going to dump you in the Mississippi and tell everyone you dropped off the grid to go study Aztec poetry in the middle of Mexico or something." "Which would be kind of cool..." Joe mused. Channing barely resisted the urge to whimper. "I hate you so much right now." "Alright, in all honestly, while there's a distinct grade-school level of LOL going on with the like like you thing, maybe the direct approach would work." "Y'think?" "He's a dude. Not like you can woo him with trips to Hawaii or flowers like you did Jenna." "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He had no idea why he was agreeing with anything Joe said right now. It felt like he was being Stockholmed or something. "But you still need to say something." "I will. I will, Jeez Louise, stop staring at me like that, it's creepy." "Just remember if you don't, you'll have Jenna and me to answer to," Joe replied, with one of his patented sunny grins. Channing put down his empty cup, feeling slightly more human. "Can I pretty please go shower now?" "Sure," Joe shrugged, then waggled his eyebrows. "Want some help scrubbing your back?" Channing narrowed his eyes, but Joe seemed sincere enough. "Well, since we were too wasted to put out last night and you really do owe me..." "I knew you'd say yes," Joe replied, and tugged Channing into the bathroom. *** London was a nice contrast to New Orleans, even though Channing still didn't dig the cold. It wasn't Scotland, and that was good enough for him. Although, if this thing with Jamie really became, like, a thing, then Channing would probably have to spend more time here. Channing wondered if he could talk Jamie into visiting him in L.A. during the winter months and he could come out here to London in the summer. Sort of like a timeshare, only with sex. Which, yeah, he was so getting ahead of himself. Channing still didn't think Jamie was into him that way. Sure, they flirted, like, all the time, but Jamie was like that with everyone. Dude was friendly and sexy and people just flocked to him. It was sort of like Jamie was a black hole or something – everyone just got sucked into his orbit. So, yeah, it was entirely possible that Channing was driving himself nuts over a dude who probably wasn't even into dudes, and if he was, he probably wasn't into Channing. The second he was in the back of the car that was taking him to his hotel, he texted Joe to let to let him he landed, and then Jamie to let him know what hotel he'd be at and if Jamie wanted to meet him for a drink later. He was gratified that Jamie texted back 'hell yeah' almost immediately. Maybe this wouldn't be the most awkward conversation in the history of ever. Channing couldn't be the first co-star Jamie'd had that had propositioned him, right? He called Jenna next, mostly because he needed to hear her voice, but also because he needed the pep talk. She answered on the third ring, and just the sound of her saying hello was enough to calm him down. "Hey, babe." "Hey yourself, babe," she replied. "You sound nervous." He let out a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, I dunno, why would I be nervous? I'm just, y'know, going to pour my friggin' heart out to Jamie about all of the ways I want to debauch him, no biggie." "I'm sure he'll be flattered. You'll do fine." He took some encouragement from her matter-of-fact tone. "Y'think?" "Absolutely. Go get 'em, tiger," she laughed. "I love you. I just, uh, wanted you to know that." He couldn't think of a single other person that he knew who had such an amazingly awesome wife. "I love you, too," she replied, her voice soft. "And call me later. Much later, like tomorrow. With details." "Yes ma'am." He hung up, feeling immeasurably better, and like maybe he wasn't making the biggest mistake in the world. If Jenna thought he could do this, it'd be a cakewalk. *** Damn, but Jamie was a sight for sore eyes. Channing would have laughed at himself for getting all giddy at seeing Jamie standing in front of him, but he was too busy trying to catalogue everything he could, from Jamie's frazzled hair to how nicely he filled out his Stones t-shirt to how his baggy jeans didn't quite want to fit slender hips. It didn't help Channing's libido in the slightest that Jamie looked happy to see him – that is, if the shit-eating grin Jamie was sporting was anything to go by. "Well, it's about time your hauled your arse back across the pond," Jamie stated, then stepped into the foyer of the suite and into Channing's arms for a crushing bear hug that knocked the wind out of Channing's lungs. He always forgot how deceptively strong Jamie was until he was (literally or figuratively) put on his ass. "Good to see you, man." He thought maybe Jamie had cracked a rib, but he didn't even care. What was a little pain compared to the way Jamie's smile lit up his entire face? "You too. You're looking fit and healthy. I suppose the last few weeks at home've been good for you." "Yeah, it's been nice. Hey, you want a beer or something?" "Nah, I'll save it for when we get down to the pub. Although go on if you've a mind to." "No, it's cool. I'll wait, too." Channing rubbed his suddenly damp hands along his jeans. He couldn't think of anything to say. Which, dude, this was Jamie. They never shut up around each other. Jamie nudged him. "Out with it, Chan. Whatever it is that's got you all tongue-tied, it can't be that bad." Trust Jamie to know him well enough to know that he was hiding something. "So, uh, yeah. Here's the thing." Channing stopped. This was so freakin' embarrassing. Jamie was standing there, looking all earnest and sympathetic, wearing his ridiculously cute glasses and with his hair all messed up and stupid fuzz on his cheeks and chin, and all Channing wanted to do was mess Jamie's hair up even further and fog up his glasses and rub his tongue along Jamie's lips until Jamie opened up for him and... Shit. "Okay, it's like this." You can do this, man, just push forward. "I, uh, like you?" "Oooookay," Jamie replied, scrunching his face. "I like you, too?" "Shit, that's not what...I mean, I like like you. In that way." If he didn't die of embarrassment in the next five minutes, it was going to be a miracle. "Oh...um, you mean...like...like?" Jamie asked, waving his finger between the two of them. "Yeah, like. Exactly like that." "Hmm." Jamie pursed his lips, then tapped his finger against them. "Intriguing." Channing swallowed. "And, you, uh, remember me telling you about my, uh, arrangement with Jenna?" "Yes, your safe list," Jamie nodded. "I remember." "Well, um, up until now, there's only been, like, one person on it." A quick smile flitted across Jamie's face. "You know, mate, if you get any more red, you'd probably be mistaken for a tomato." Definitely dying of embarrassment. "This is a really freakin' uncomfortable conversation, okay." "I don't see why," Jamie shrugged. "You like me, I like you, Jenna's in love with the idea..." "Wait, wait, wait, did I just...did you...?" Channing's brain stuttered to a dead stop. "You like me?" "Yeah," Jamie replied, like he thought maybe Channing had hit his head and was a little slow. "Would you like me to pass you a note in class next time with little hearts and flowers and possibly a badly written sonnet? Or maybe I can make you a music video like you did for Jenna?" Channing didn't even think about it – he just socked Jamie's arm. "That's not funny." He was never letting Joe talk him into posting on HitRECord ever again. "Are you kidding me, it's awesome. I always knew you were this giant kid, but you're acting just like my 13 year-old cousin," Jamie grinned. "Jenna did warn me you'd try your best to bollocks this up." "Wait, um, you and Jenna, like, really...?" This was getting more and more surreal. Why hadn't Jenna warned him that Jamie knew? This would have saved him so many small heart attacks. "You don't think I'd make sure I was copacetic with your lovely wife before I made a move on you, do you?" Channing felt like his brain had been dipped in honey. "You and Jenna really and for real talked about this?" "Of course. What'd'you think all of our conversations have been about?" "I dunno, neither one of you would talk about it." "And why do you think she sent you to New Orleans for that last fling with Joe?" "Wait, that was...Joe meant that?" Channing asked, unable to hide his surprise. Jamie shrugged, but it was like a little of the brightness in him had dimmed. "You still want to keep seeing Joe?" "No," Channing protested, "it's not that, I just...I thought he was fucking with me when he said that we were done like, uh, that, after New Orleans." "That's up to you." Channing licked dry lips. But this time, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. "I think I drove him crazy, talking about you all the time." A smile flickered across Jamie's face. "Did you?" "Yeah. Yeah, I did. He spent most of the time trying to come up with ways I could let you know how I feel about you. Kept telling me you were interested." "I'm glad someone noticed." "Fuck you, it's not like you ever hinted anything to me." "Not true," Jamie protested. "Just because I don't wear my heart on my sleeve like you and go around tackling people for hugs doesn't mean I didn't make it clear that your puppy-like affections weren't reciprocated." "Puppy-like?" Great, just great, now Jamie thought that about him, too. He should shoot himself now. The corners of Jamie's eyes crinkled when he smiled. It was really distracting. "Completely enthusiastic and exuberant and just as impossible to resist." "That doesn't sound too terrible." "It's not." Then Jamie took a step closer and leaned in to brush dry lips across Channing's. "So, what say we have a pint or two and you can tell me about how this whole arrangement is going to work from your own lips." "Uh, okay." His brain was still falter-skipping on the memory of Jamie's mouth on his. "Sure. But, um, first..." This time, he was the one to lean in and initiate the kiss. It felt even better the second time around, and they still hadn't gotten around to actually doing anything. Channing was going to be a mess by the time clothes actually started to come off. Jamie kissed just like he did everything else – with supreme confidence and absolute enthusiasm. He molded himself to Channing's body like he absolutely belonged, and threaded his fingers through Channing's hair to hold him in place for the slow roll of his tongue and the heated press of his mouth. Channing, for his part, felt he was doing good just to hold on and return the kiss. He poured every ounce of need and want into it, lest Jamie get the wrong idea that this was some sort of fluke and not something Channing had been wanting for months. He was rewarded with a startled moan that reverberated between them, and just the sound of it shot straight to Channing's groin. There was no way he was going to survive actual sex. He couldn't wait. "Much better," Jamie murmured, sounding slightly winded, when they finally parted for much needed air. He cupped Channing's cheek, and Channing was pleasantly surprised to see a faint smudge of condensation on Jamie's glasses. "Ready for that pint?" "Sure." Now that he was here, and he knew that Jamie wasn't going to toss him out on his ass, he was perfectly content to wait until they'd talked. He reminded himself to call Jenna later tonight to let her know what was going on (and to, he was sure, hear her gloat.) And he supposed he owed Joe a text. And two grand. "You'll, uh...you'll stay tonight, though, right?" "And pass up on the chance to see your ridiculous bedhead tomorrow morning and hear you sing in the shower?" Jamie was still smiling when he kissed Channing again, and Channing thought maybe he could feel that smile all the way down to his toes. "How could I say no?" "You like it when I sing in the shower?" "Well, I'm not saying you should go on X-Factor or anything, but it's cute," Jamie admitted. "Like a puppy's, I get it." Jamie pulled him into a one-armed hug. "I like this flustered side of you, Chan, I must say." "Uh, thanks?" "But I still expect to see the competitive side of you later tonight." Something in Jamie's tone awakened every nerve in Channing's body. "You do?" "Mmmhmm." Jamie leaned in, brushing the words across the shell of Channing's ear. "Because I bet I can make you come faster than you can make me." Forget nerves, now all of Channing's blood was singing in response. "Uh..." he croaked, eloquent as ever. Jamie just laughed and pulled him out of the room (and away from its perfectly nice, nearby bed, which was wrong in ways Channing didn't even want to contemplate) to find a smoky dark pub so they could, in Jamie's words, continue their particular brand of foreplay and get all the technical bits sorted out before getting naked. Channing was just glad that one of them was capable of thinking clearly. But he vowed to himself that, by the end of the night, he would make Jamie completely incoherent. And to make Jamie come first. (And often.) The thought cheered him up immensely. He really was, no doubt, THE luckiest bastard ever.
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