This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences. If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site. If you enjoy Nifty, please donate!
-------------------------------------------------- Channing's Visit - Chapter 3 -------------------------------------------------- So sorry for the delay! But, many thanks to all who e-mail me: Robert, Wayne, Freddie, Jhep, Angel, Shannon, Austin, 'Necessary', James and anyone I missed! --------------------------------------------------
For a few days following our last tryst, everything was golden around the house. Channing and I spent more and more time together, whether it be watching movies, cooking meals or working out at the same time. His regimen of exercise was a great motivation for me to keep myself in shape as well.
Channing was on the elliptical and I was huffing away on the treadmill. I was jamming out to some club mix and he had in his headphones, too. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his phone light up. Channing stopped his routine and answered the call, his strides slowing steadily. Then, he flat out stopped, yanked his headphones out and bolted for the door.
Startled, I leapt off of the treadmill after him. "Channing! What's going on?"
He took the steps two at a time, ignoring me as he ran to the front door. He swung the door open and enveloped someone in a crushing hug. "Oh, fuck, Chan! You're dripping sweat! Get off me!"
"Deal with it!"
The two laughed as Channing spun the smaller man around and into the house. When his feet touched the ground, I finally saw his face. Channing guided him over to me, still smiling. "Joey, this is Reagan. Reagan, Joey."
I shook hands and grinned. "Mr. Gordon-Levitt, nice to meet you."
He rolled his eyes. "Joey is fine. And, the pleasure is all mine."
Doubt it.
"So, did you two rent this property together?" he asked, looking around curiously. I was confused. "What do you mean?"
Joey shrugged. "Is this some kind of timeshare I didn't know you had, Chan?"
"Joe, this is Reagan's house."
The look of surprise on his face was priceless. He looked between Channing and I about three times before he spoke. "So... how do you two know each other?"
"Owen Egner," I replied. Joey nodded understandingly. "So, you're the one who hides people away when they don't want to be found."
"Guilty."
"Well, had I known that, I wouldn't have come unannounced. I don't mean to intrude on your hospitality. I was just looking for Chan."
I brushed his formality off. "It's honestly fine. There's plenty of room here and, as the old adage goes, a friend of Channing's is a friend of mine. Although, how DID you know where he was?"
"Owen Egner," he chuckled. "Of course."
I laughed, but something was nagging me in the back of my mind. If Owen had been willing to break his own rule about discretion to send Joey here, there had to be an ulterior motive. As Channing's friend, Joey was someone that could be trusted and supportive, someone who could deliver bad news.
And, just like that, I knew why Joey was in my house.
I came to when Channing placed his hand on my side. "I'm gonna go take a quick shower and then we should do dinner or something."
I forced a smile and nodded, acutely aware that Joey had not missed the physical contact. Channing disappeared, leaving us alone in the foyer. "Do you need help with your bags?" I offered. Joey shook his head and indicated to the small carry-on by the door. "That's all I have. I'm not planning on being here for more than a few days. If that's okay with you."
"It's no problem whatsoever," I said quickly. "There's plenty of space and I'm sure it'll be good for Channing to have someone other than me around. Come on, I'll show you where you can throw your things."
Joey admired the house as we walked, reminding me of when Channing first arrived. "This house is magnificent," he said. "Beautifully decorated, too."
"Thank you."
He stopped at the same painting that Channing had weeks prior. Silently, he looked it over, then at me. Then, back to the painting. Then, back to me. I could almost hear the gears turning. "No. Way."
I nodded. "Yup. It's me."
Joey's face lit up. "You have GOT to be kidding me! Of all the people in the world, he is staying with YOU? I can't... this is just... wow! I don't mean to be that guy, but I have adored your work for a long time!"
"Channing told me," I laughed, realizing the irony of being recognized and admired by someone as famous as Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He alternated between laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. "Let's get you settled in. While you're here, I'll let you check out the studio."
"Fantastic!"
I indicated to the empty room. "This is yours. Feel free to get settled in. I need to shower as well so as not to offend." I took my leave, but headed to Channing's room instead of my own. He was still in the bathroom, so I knocked lightly. "Channing? Can I come in?"
"Come on in."
The entire room was enveloped in steam and I could make out Channing's naked form in the shower. He peeked out from behind the glass, hair dripping. I felt my groin stir. "What's up?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to talk... about..."
He waited expectantly. Then, I realized that I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to talk about. Channing took the reins. "If you're worried about Joey, don't be. He knows I'm into guys, too."
"Does he?"
"No. Well, yes. Kind of."
"Thanks for clearing that up."
Channing chuckled as he cut off the water and stepped out. I definitely got hard as I took in his wet body. "Joey is, for all intents and purposes, straight. But, he is also constantly horny. So, if there's a guy that wants to get with him, he won't say no."
"He's an opportunist."
"Basically," Channing replied, drying off. I mulled that over for a bit. "So, should I be worried?"
"How so?"
I shrugged. "Do you think he's going to try anything... with me?"
Channing looked as if he hadn't thought of that, then tilted his head. "I don't know. Maybe. Does that bother you?"
I answered his question with a question. "Does it bother you?"
"Why would it?"
My heart sank a little. I had begun to think that Channing and I were more than fuck buddies. Maybe, in light of his ending relationship, we were becoming something like lovers. His response crushed stopped that train of thought in its tracks. My silence went unnoticed as he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. I composed myself and made for the door. "I showed Joey his room. I'm gonna shower and change."
"Okay."
As I left, Channing swatted me on the butt and shot me a smile. I tried to return it, but it felt fake. I headed to my own room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I climbed into the shower and turned the water on as hot as possible.
As the steaming water poured over me, I chastised myself. I was an idiot. A full fledged, grade-A moron. Sure, I had been sleeping with Channing and I could easily see us together. But, there was no reason to think that he felt the same. For fuck's sake, he was only in my house to escape his problems. Why on Earth would he add another emotional attachment to that list?
I was tired of changing stances on the issue. If Channing didn't care if I fooled around with Joey, then so be it.
After my shower, I rummaged through my dresser for something specific that I hadn't worn in a while. When I finally found them, I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the item in my hands. Technically, they were considered `lounge shorts', but, in reality, they were like silken running shorts, complete with the slit on the sides. The inseam itself was about an inch and hid nothing when I sat down.
I stepped into a pair of briefs, followed by the black shorts and a tank, then made for the kitchen. Joey and Channing were already there beginning dinner preparations. As I rounded the corner, they turned to me and all conversation stopped. Channing's eyebrows slid up his forehead. Joey nodded, then looked at Channing and snickered. The sound must have snapped him out of his trance because he cleared his throat and turned back to Joey.
"Um... what was I saying?"
"I have no idea. I wasn't listening."
"Ass."
I crossed Channing's path and was not surprised to feel his hands caress my waist. Ignoring him, I moved to Joey's side. "What are we making?"
"Nothing complicated," he replied as he began chopping vegetables. "A spicy chicken pasta dish."
"Looks complicated to me," I mused. "Anything you need from me?"
He shook his head. "You're letting me stay here. It's the least I can do."
I rolled my eyes at the repetitive comment as I made for the wine fridge. "Well, since Joey is gracing us with a spicy culinary masterpiece, I think we shall start with... a sauvignon blanc."
Channing pulled wine glasses form the cabinet as I uncorked the bottle. Pouring just a sip, I indicated for Joey to be the tester. However, his hands were preoccupied with raw chicken, so I took the initiative and brought the glass to his lips. As he drank, I saw the slightest flicker of movement from Channing: for just a moment, he diverted his eyes, scratching a spot visible only to him on the counter.
Joey nodded appreciatively. "That's perfect."
I filled the glasses generously, which consequently drained the bottle, and uncorked another. My guests laughed openly at my enthusiasm as Joey continued his slicing, mixing and cooking. The wine was soon gone from our glasses, so Channing took it upon himself to refill our drinks. As we enjoyed another sauvignon, the smells of a wonderful meal began to fill the kitchen. I forgot about my issues with Channing and I was sure he was forgetting his own.
As the dish neared completion, and we neared our fifth bottle, a devious idea came into my head. Channing was pulling out plates and silverware, so I nudged Joey and mouthed, "Play along." Then, aloud, "So, can we try this magical dish now?"
"Yeah," Channing piped in. "I'm starving."
Joey rolled his eyes. "Go ahead. It's almost done anyway."
I grabbed a fork and speared a piece of chicken from its sauce. Truth be told, it was excellent. When I told Joey as much, he smiled. "Why thank you, sir."
As Channing took his sample, I gently nudged Joey in the ribs. Then, melodramatically, I began scratching my neck. "So, what all is in there?" I asked. Channing tuned in to the conversation, mouth full of chicken. Joey shrugged. "garlic, habanero pepper, onion, tomato. Nothing too fancy."
I began scratching the other side of my neck, drawing Channing's eye. His eyebrows furrowed. "Anything else?" I asked Joey.
"Uh... olive oil, green onions... parsley."
I feigned surprise. "What? Oh, no. No, no, no."
Channing was by my side in an instant. "Reagan, what's wrong?"
"Parsley! That's what's..." I paused, then launched into an admittedly hokey gasp for air. Panic spread across Channing's face. "Joey! What did you do!"
"I didn't know he was allergic!"
"Oh, fuck! Give me your phone!"
Joey, ever the actor, searched his pockets. "I don't have it!"
I continued my gasping and scratching as Channing all but launched himself over the kitchen island. In his drunken state, he managed to knock his phone to the floor in his attempt to retrieve it. As he scrambled under the table for it, I cut the act.
"Actually, I rather like parsley, but only in moderation."
Channing sprung up off the floor, phone in hand and face riddled with confusion. I couldn't help but start to laugh. Joey was right behind me, clutching his sides. When the truth dawned on our victim, his face changed to annoyance. "Fuck you both. That wasn't fucking funny!"
"I have to disagree," Joey chuckled. "I've never seen you move that fast while drinking."
"Fuck off. I thought Reagan was dying," he snipped. "And, you'd better hope you never have a real medical emergency because I'm going to let you die next time, assholes."
Joey placed his face next to mine and grabbed my chin. I couldn't help but notice that his free hand landed on my inner thigh. "Come on, Chan. You can't stay mad at this boyishly handsome face... and slightly effeminate hair."
I whipped my head so fast that I basically head-butted him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Channing basically leapt on the chance to make someone else the butt of the joke. "He's right, Reagan. Your hair is kinda... girly. Just saying." I openly gawked at him. "Since when does Mr. 3rd-Rock-From-The-Sun over here get to make jokes about people's long hair?"
"I was portraying an alien," he replied. "What's your excuse?"
My jaw dropped as Channing roared with laughter. I shot him an evil glare, which promptly made him laugh even harder. "Screw you both. There's nothing wrong with my long hair. And, it's not even THAT long."
"If you grew it out, you could be Legolas for Halloween," Channing suggested.
I flipped him the bird.
"Can we just eat?" I griped, running my fingers through my hair. It only reached halfway down my neck, a reasonable length in my opinion. Plus, I was usually by myself. Who cared what I looked like?
As Joey began plating the food, Channing approached me and tangled his fingers in my hair. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. "I think you're fine the way you are," he said quietly. I felt my heart stutter at the sentiment. Then, I playfully shoved him away. "Screw you. BOTH of you."
Plates stacked high with pasta and glasses refilled to the brim, we all made our way into the living room. Channing took the couch and Joey took the loveseat. In lieu of making any sort of decision, I took the lone armchair. Even though we turned the television on, our conversation took over. We talked about the movies the two had made, my art, their friendship and anything else that came to mind. I was truly enjoying myself and having a great time.
Until the question I had been dreading came up.
"So, Joey, you gotta tell me. How did you get Owen to tell you where I was?"
The mood shifted so abruptly that someone might as well have dropped dead to the floor. Joey slowly set his wine glass down. "He... had something for you. And, he asked me to deliver it."
"Okay, so, what is it?"
Joey took a second to muster himself before he went to his room, returning with a large manila envelope. He gave me a helpless glance as he handed it over. Channing tore it open with an endearing ignorance and reached inside. Enclosed was a stack of papers bound together with one single sheet loose. As his eyes read each line, his expression fell further and further.
"She... she's one hundred percent?"
Joey nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Chan. She already signed everything. Once you do the same, it's official."
The pain in Channing's face was heart wrenching. He hadn't spoken to me personally about his failing marriage, but I could tell that he had perhaps a slight hope that it might work out. Now, with the papers in front of him, it was truly coming to a close. He stared blankly at the divorce papers in his hand before standing suddenly. "I just need some time alone."
I moved to say something, not sure what, but Channing blew past me before I could even get to my feet. I wanted to comfort him, remind him that this wasn't the end of the world. But, as his door closed, I knew there was nothing I could say. Joey must have seen the helplessness on my face because he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "He'll be all right in time. That guy is tough."
I had nothing to say to that, so I simply nodded. As we began cleaning, I could swear that I heard a sob from Channing's room. --------------------------------------------------
Thanks for reading guys. Feel free to e-mail me and let me know what you think, what you would like to see or even if you just want to say thanks or anything!
NiftyAndyDarko@gmail.com