1. "“You said that this garden was Michelle’s favorite part of the house. What’s yours?” Jake retuned his unlit cigarette to the pack.
Heath’s breath caught slightly; no one had ever asked him that before.
Heath led Jake into the master bathroom, barely making a sound. Heath turned on the light and pointed skyward.
“There it is, my favorite part of the house.”
Jake gazed up at the skylight and gasped.
“Wow, so beautiful. Was this here already?”
“No, it was my idea,” Heath said proudly, “didn’t take nearly as long as laying all of this tile.”
Jake poked his fingers at the tile admiringly and looked up at Heath. “Ready to turn in?”
Heath nodded, swallowing hard. The hue of Jake’s eyes exploded against the tiles and he felt his heart speed up.
Jake switched off the light to leave the bathroom. The light from above danced off of the walls. Heath felt the warm shadow of Jake’s body behind him. Heath had never liked having his back to people, a quirk exacerbated by his fame. But there was none of that threatening now, it was all benevolence, all trust, all Jake.
The real Heath will do just fine.
Heath turned slowly to face Jake. He couldn’t see the finer points of his face in the dark which was just as well. He took a step forward and leaned in close to Jake’s body. Summoning all of his courage, Heath pressed his lips to Jake’s, as softly as he could. The feel of Jake’s lips was intoxicating, addictive. He smoothed his tongue on the inside of his friend’s lips, not too deeply, just a taste. Jake sighed softly into Heath’s mouth and Heath felt a thudding ache in his groin in response. The euphoria of being this close was almost too much; he felt his private thoughts exposed, the mysteries of his heart hanging right there between them. Every cell in his body felt alive, nothing in that moment but the two of them. Heath pressed closer, running his hand to the back of Jake’s neck, could have cried out from how soft his hair was at the nape, indulging his hand there. Their lips brushed and pressed, apart then together. Heath absorbed every sensation of Jake returning his kiss.
Jake, not Jack.
Jake broke the kiss and switched the light back on. His eyes were swimming with calculations, probability, outcomes, not wanting to guess, wanting to hit the proper mark with his words.
“Tell me,” he breathed finally.
“Tell you what?” Heath whispered.
“Whatever it is that you’re not telling me,” Jake replied slowly.
Jake’s precision had tripped all of Heath’s sensors like dominoes and he had not projected himself this far into the moment.
Heath went silent.
Jake gave Heath a few seconds to respond, but then moved past him toward the door. Jake glanced over his shoulder quickly and left, closing the door behind him.
See you for supper.
Heath leaned over the sink with his head bowed low as if in prayer."
2. "“Hey.”
“Yeah?” Jake’s voice rose over the sound of the water.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“So go.”
That wasn’t the answer Heath wanted. He tried another approach.
“Is this the only bathroom?”
“This place is old, so yeah. More than one bathroom is a 1980s phenomenon.”
Heath didn’t really want to hear Jake’s monologue of real estate trivia about pre-Reagan era condominium architecture. He just wanted to sit on the toilet.
“Well, it’s all of that roughage you fed me for dinner and now I need private time in the bathroom” Heath said as he swung the door open wider.
“Jeez me Christmas, can’t you just turn on the fan? I’m not done,” Jake called out. Heath waited a bit but Jake didn’t make any moves and even started humming. Heath could sense that Jake was toying with him and his stomach didn’t have time for it.
“I don’t like other people in the bathroom with me when I’m taking a shit, so can you just get out?!” Heath shouted.
The knobs squeaked as Jake turned the shower off. He forcefully slammed the white plastic shower curtain back on its rollers. He had gathered a towel that was too small for him around his waist and gripped the chrome towel rack with both hands. His face was red and he was laughing hysterically. Jake stumbled out of the shower and over to the doorway where Heath was standing.
“Do you want me to fold the toilet paper into a nice triangle for you, Princess?”
Heath snatched the towel off of Jake and shoved him out of the door in the same motion.
“You can air dry,” Heath said as he slammed the door in Jake’s face.
“Fuck you!” Jake hollered as he slid on wet feet into the hallway.
Heath pulled his pants down and looked around for something to read. To the right of the toilet he found a book of New York Times crossword puzzles. He blew a layer of dust off of it. The book was creased and folded to a puzzle from September 14, 1997. The entire puzzle was completed except for a few clues. One of the blanks was 35 down, “Math calculation.” Heath smirked to himself. Jake sucked at math.
When he was done, he flushed the toilet and thought about taking a shower. He pulled his pants halfway up. Heath looked up at the sound of Jake scratching at the door. He didn’t wait for an answer before barging in.
“Are you fin…?”
Jake lost his words as he leaned onto the doorknob. Heath’s jeans were hovering below his hips, his sandy pubic hair showing. Heath looked down at himself and up at Jake again.
“Can I take a picture of you like that?” Jake asked, not taking his eyes off of Heath’s crotch.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
A grin flickered across Heath’s face. “Ok.”
Jake returned with his camera. Heath was never one to enjoy posing and preening for a photograph. But he understood why Jake wanted this. This was a picture to comfort Jake in the days to come; a migration of memories between trysts and proof of desire deferred. Heath pushed his hands down the front of his jeans, and spread the unzipped fly further apart. He looked into the camera, projecting every salacious thought he ever had about Jake onto the lens.
Jake whistled high between his teeth and snapped his shot. “Just in case you were wondering, that whole thing you usually do to try and downplay your looks? It doesn’t work.”
Heath shrugged and shuffled his feet. “I’m going to take a shower, ok?”
“All yours,” Jake said, shutting the door behind him."
3. "“I feel like you’re waiting for something, waiting for me to say or do something. Being a star, having money, it’s not real. There’s just me, just Jacob. You want me to say something? I will, but it can’t be unsaid, and it’ll always be there between us.”
“Say it.” Heath said, his eyes shining.
Jake stepped closer to Heath, steadied his voice. “She doesn’t know you; she doesn’t understand you like I do. That quiet, sensitive part of your spirit, she can’t take care of it; protect it, the way I do. She can’t love you like I can.”
“I hate this shit,” Jake hissed. He leaned into Heath’s space, bumping shoulders, framing his body with outstretched arms, palms flat against the wall. “I don’t want you to leave but I’m also fantasizing about killing you.” Jake licked Heath’s lower lip and tugged at it, bit it.
The taste of his own blood raised the hairs on the back of Heath’s neck. He reached under Jake’s arm to turn the deadbolt on the door.
By the time Jake returned with the lube and condom, Heath’s pants were at his ankles.
Jake rolled the condom over Heath and spread the lube on him, quick and sloppy, tossing the tube and wrapper to the floor.
Heath pressed Jake into the wall, crossing his forearm over the front of his chest.
“You’ll never talk about leaving me again after I’m done with you.”
Jake smiled slow and wicked. “You trying to talk shit, now?”
“You like it?” Heath panted, stroking his cock through the rubber.
“Love it.” Jake leaned his forehead against the wall and spread his legs.
Heath leaned in close. “I’m going to sink every inch of this dick into your ass,” he growled into his ear.
Jake let a moan ripple out of his throat. “Mmm-hmm, talk to me.”
“You feel that?” Heath nudged his crack.
“Barely, that all you got?”
“Got a whole lot more.”
“Bring it,” Jake taunted.
Heath gripped Jake’s shoulder and pushed in hard. “You feel it now?”
“Yeeeaaahh, fuck…give it to me…uuuuhhhh, fucking…bitch.”
Heath pushed in to the hilt. “What do you think about when my dick is inside of you?” he whispered fiercely.
“I think about all…all…uuhhhhh…of the men and women who look at you and want this dick, and they can’t have it,” Jake breathed.
“Yeah, why? Why can’t they have it?” Heath stroked long and agonizingly slow, feeling each tremor and contraction all the way to his knees.
Jake palmed the wall and pushed his ass back onto Heath. “Because that shit is mine.”
“Whose is it?” Heath fairly sang.
“MINE. Your dick is mine. Tell me it is, fucking tell me…” Jake wiped the sweat from his forehead and pounded the wall with his fist when Heath stopped moving.
“You know it is,” Heath gasped. “You want this, you want your dick? Ready for me?”
Jake gritted his teeth. “Let loose, baby, break me in half.”
“Fucking amazing,” Heath whispered hoarsely.
“Definitely in the top five.”
“What’s number one?” Heath asked.
“That first kiss. It was the most exciting, thrilling moment for me, it was better than sex.”
Heath nodded and lifted his pants up but didn’t bother to fasten them.
Jake put his pants back on and sat in Heath’s lap, facing him. He knew it was one of his favorite positions. They stared at each other until Heath broke the silence.
“I’m sorry. I hurt you, I’m far from perfect, so I sure as hell hope that’s not what you’re after.”
Jake just gazed at him, not answering.
“Have I fucked it up completely? What can I do to make it right with us?” Heath held his breath, fearing the worst.
Jake pulled Heath in closer until their lips were inches apart.
It came out as the faintest whisper, but Heath heard it.
“Marry me.”"
4. "Heath held the picture in his hands and wondered how the most beautiful things in his life had become ugly; the sublime made serrated, cutting and slashing at what little bravery he had left. He fingered the edges of the photograph, looking into his own eyes, missing the feelings that had inspired the image. That moment had belonged to him and Jake. Someone else had intruded on what was theirs and removed it from its home, stealing love and repackaging it as a dormant threat.
He dialed Jake’s number without even thinking about it; too hungry for relief to not ask for what he wanted.
“Waassup, Big Joker?” Jake answered, ebullient and full. “Promise me you’ll keep the costume. You acting all psychotic and dark; that could be sexy. Can I be Robin?”
“I need you,” Heath cut in. He paused to gather himself.
“There was a time when I would have cared about how that sounded or how it would make me look to say that. I don’t care anymore.” Heath sat down hard on the couch and let the words tumble out. “My shit is so fucked and there are things I have to say to you that I can’t say over the phone.”"
5. "“Yes, and I’ve got something to show you.”
“Yea, is it the same thing you showed me when you gagged me?”
“Heh. No,” Jake chuckled.
Jake had been bursting with this revelation since the artist left his house two weeks ago. They had toyed with the idea of buying a bracelet for Jake, but nothing seemed right. They looked at rings, exchanged pictures of necklaces, but still, nothing moved them. Finally, Jake dreamed of something while dozing on a train, a flash of what he could do to symbolize the relationship that they were both learning how to protect.
He unbuttoned his shirt and turned his back to Heath. He dropped the shirt to his waist and heard the loud gasp he had paid $500 for.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Heath yelled. “I can’t believe you did that!!”
Heath felt around the spot on Jake’s shoulder blade. “Can I put my hand to it or is it tender still?”
“You can touch it,” Jake replied.
“Good on you,” Heath murmured pressing his fingertips along the vivid outline.
“You like it?”
“I fucking goddamn love it,” Heath gushed, taking Jake’s face between his hands and kissing him across his jaw, hovering over his ear like a hummingbird, breathing quick and deep.
“Mmm…let’s go upstairs,” Jake purred. There was something about being in the brownstone with Heath that was making him feel alcohol-buzzed; lusty. They had never had sex in this house, but Jake wanted to. He wanted to know how it felt to sleep in Heath’s bed. If he were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that he didn’t ever want to leave, and that he had felt that way for a long time.
“Something else first,” Heath said excitedly. “Your new ink has my mind going wild. There was something I wanted to do while you were here and now…argh! It’s going to be even better!
Jake shook his head. It was hopeless, sex would have to wait. Heath was bouncing, and he couldn’t be stopped once he got started.
“This better not be something crappy like chop down a tree or paint a room. I hate it when somebody invites you to come over and hang out but then says, ‘hey, I need to get rid of this beehive, you mind helping me out?”
Heath was already dashing around, gathering lamps and lugging more camera equipment out of a closet in the living room.
“Taking pictures? I don’t wanna do that,” Jake whined. “I do that all the time, you’ve got to be kidding.”
“I don’t dig this light; we’ll go upstairs after all. Grab that sack for me,” Heath said over his shoulder.
“Yeah, why don’t you grab this sack?” Jake called after Heath, holding his crotch.
By the time Jake had stomped up the stairs (muttering a different curse with each step), Heath had stripped the mattress and set up a few lamps around the bed.
Jake looked down at the ball of sheets Heath had tossed on to the floor. “Haven’t we gotten into enough trouble because of naughty pictures?”
“Precisely, now we can do whatever we want.”
“But I don’t want to do this, posing for pictures is boring.”
“Sort of like biking first thing in the morning, isn’t it?”
“You suck.”
“Take off your clothes.”
Jake frowned and pulled off his shorts and underwear; stepping out of his sneakers.
Heath spread out a sheet and motioned for Jake to stand on it. He reached into one of his equipment bags and pulled out a small can.
“Is that a can of whoop ass?” Jake asked.
“Shut up, God! Did you treat Vanity Fair like this?” Heath asked, rolling his eyes. He fished a small brush from the bag and popped the lid of the can.
“You would be amazed at the things those make-up guys will give you if you ask. They love to talk about all the shit they do. This is what they use to make it look like you have greasy dirt on you, but it wipes off instantly if you need to be clean for the next frame.”
Heath dipped the brush into the can and painted a stroke across Jake’s chest.
“Eeee, cold!” Jake cringed. He looked down at the drying stripe on his skin. “Cool, this is way better than the stuff they used in Jarhead.”
Heath painted smears of “dirt” all over Jake’s face and body, including his hair.
Jake wrinkled his nose. “So is this some sort of lofty artistic statement or is it just beefcake porn?”
“Why can’t it be both?”
Jake looked up at Heath and saw the hint of a tepid smile, but there was no mistaking the hurt in his eyes that tried to retreat before Jake noticed it.
Jake started to apologize, but he knew that ‘I’m sorry’ had its limitations, there was a better way to say it.
“Leave it to us to be ass-backwards. I proposed to you after an argument, we came up with our vows on the floor of an empty apartment, consummated our union on a hotel carpet, held the ceremony in a bathtub in Africa, and now we’re just getting around to the wedding photos? What kind of gays are we?”
“The kind of gays that have a picture of my pubes in OK! Magazine as their wedding announcement?” Heath offered.
“I like your style, boy. I’m ready to work,” Jake smiled.
Heath positioned Jake on his stomach on top of the bare mattress and moved some of the lamps, testing and tilting the light. Jake watched Heath as he made his way around the bed, and he felt himself getting hard against the busy blue fabric. He could see Heath concentrating; working towards a vision in his head, moving things until whatever he was seeing in his mind’s eye materialized. Heath’s intense focus brought Jake’s lust back from downstairs where he had left it.
“Bend your knees, then cross your feet at the ankles,” Heath directed while looking into the camera.
Jake crossed his feet and tilted his head.
Heath lowered the camera and squatted down. “Don’t pose for someone else, pose for me. Make me want to get into bed with you.”
Jake dropped his head and let his arms hang off the front of the bed, raising his shoulders and arching his back.
“Yea,” Heath breathed. “That’s it.”
Truthfully, Jake loved being photographed. What he didn’t like was the process: Apply make-up, fluff clothes, re-style hair, re-apply make-up, wait while shot director moves cameras, re-fluff. But the shot director had never been Heath, and he was surprised by how much he liked watching the technical aspects.
He lifted his chin and lowered his eyelids, letting his tongue rest on his bottom lip.
“Mm-hmm,” Heath said approvingly as he moved in closer.
“Hold still and let me step over you so I can get a look at your tattoo from up here.” Heath stood on the bed and pointed the camera down at Jake’s back. He hopped down and turned one of the lights off when he was satisfied with his shot.
Jake rolled to his back and looked at Heath upside-down. “Hey, are you that Heath Ledger dude?”
“Yes,” Heath answered with a sly grin.
“Weren’t you in that gay flick with another guy, I think there were horses in it?”
“Yes.” Heath stepped back, still looking into the camera’s viewfinder.
“Give it to me straight. Did you fuck him in the tent? That looked like real actual fucking to me, except I watched a bootleg copy that I bought at a street fair, so you never know.”
Heath taped a bunch of lighting wires to the floor so he wouldn’t keep tripping over them. “No, that would be pornography. The tent was an important cultural moment in American cinema.”
“Why can’t it be both?” Jake grinned.
“Be quiet, please. This isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Jake turned back to his stomach. “I read on justjared.com that you have a huge dick, is that true?”
Heath put his camera on the floor and doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach while his face turned pink then red. He put his hands on his hips. “My dick is all over the internet, and I must say, this is the first time I’ve ever laughed about it.”
“Really? Ok, I’ll look it up. Does it have its own URL?”
“You’re in rare form today.” Heath sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through the shots he had taken.
“So the guy in the horse movie, did you stick your tongue in his mouth?”
“It’s not a horse movie, it’s a love story. And yes, I did,” Heath sniffed with mock irritation.
“No shit! I thought actors didn’t do that, like when you do a McDonald’s commercial, you don’t even get to sip the milkshake, you have to pretend.”
“You like milkshakes?” Heath asked, swirling a pattern over Jake’s ass with his finger.
Jake turned his head to the side, put his cheek against the mattress and winked at Heath.
“Brings all the boys to the yard.”"
6. "“Can you step out for a second?” The driver was flooring it and he would reach the address in a few minutes but Jake needed this time, anything not public, not restricted.
A smattering of laughs and a muted exchange slipped into a private silence.
“The fuck have you been; thought we were going to meet up for a bit,” Heath grumbled.
Jake smiled into the receiver. That’s more like it.
“Flight was delayed. Can’t you come downstairs?”
“I could but…” Jake knew what Heath was thinking and he was right.
“No,” they said together.
“It would look…”
“Yeah,” Heath sighed. Jake could see him chewing on his thumbnail.
“Goddamn this fucking shit sucks ass,” Jake hissed.
“Have you been hanging out with Peter lately?”
“Yeah, why?” Jake answered.
“Because your language has deteriorated tremendously,” Heath sniffed.
“That’s not all that’s deteriorated, tell you that much. Jacking off is losing its charm quickly.” Jake buttoned up his blazer as the car approached a nondescript building on the Upper West Side where Sam kept a nondescript office.
“Is it ever charming?” Heath mused.
“It is when I do it,” Jake insisted, “wanna see?”
Heath’s chuckles clicked lightly in the back of his throat, and Jake knew that laugh belonged only to him. It wasn’t your everyday laugh about a good television commercial or something adorable your child had done; it was the sort of laugh shared by two people who were sleeping together."
7. "Heath felt his security evaporating, retreating quickly under the dawning day, too much light pouring over what he had fought to conceal. He locked eyes with Jake. The dark room door had been kicked down; his eyes displaying it all like shifting photographs. Heath watched Jake. Jake had seen.
“Oh…God,” Jake whispered, gripping the bridge of his nose with his fingers and leaning over the side of the fence. “You have feelings, you feel something.” It wasn’t a question.
Heath watched the kale green water of the river rush by, knowing that he was no more in control of what he felt than he was over the river that heard his secret. “Yes, I do. It’s not…sex, it’s…I want things from you I have no rights to.”
Jake didn’t look up, kept his eyes closed. “How long?”
Heath searched for an answer. “I don’t know, it was like a, like a dream that kept coming, and all of a sudden, it became real. And then you were in all of my thoughts, not just the dreaming ones, but the waking ones, too.”
Jake startled and pulled Heath away from the fence. “It’s getting too crowded; we gotta get out of here.”"
8. "After 3 loud knocks, Jake opened the door with a smile. Not a bold one for a camera, but a shy one for a crush. Heath smiled back, touched by Jake’s reticence.
Jake stood up and held his hand out for Heath to take. Jake walked backwards through the living room, miraculously averting 2 months worth of the New York Times while holding Heath’s hand, facing him. “Hungry?” Jake asked.
“Starved,” Heath replied. This was how Heath liked Jake best. He was wearing blue shorts and a grey sleeveless T-shirt. He was barefoot and his hair was sticking up like a little boy just up from a nap. His facial hair was grown in some, reddish brown on his chin and lip. Heath wondered if Jake somehow knew his preferences as it wasn’t like Jake to not fuss over his hair. Or so he thought. Maybe there were a lot of things that he didn’t know about Jake’s daily life.
Heath smiled at the sight of Jake’s small kitchen. It was perfectly in order. There were utensils hanging neatly on the wall and his cookbooks were organized and grouped by category. Jake was serious about cooking in every city, it seemed. His stomach was growling audibly and he hoped whatever they were eating was quick. Microwave popcorn was sounding pretty good, but he knew that Jake didn’t buy or eat processed food. Heath went to lean against the narrow pantry door while Jake was occupied in the refrigerator.
“I have to have a sit-down while I’m here,” Heath said crossing his arms over his chest.
“With who?”
“With Phillip Noyce. We’re doing ‘Dirt Music’, shooting outside of Perth. Next year, I think. Didn’t you meet him at the pre-Oscar party?”
Jake turned around with a huge bowl in his hands, kicking the refrigerator door shut. He set the bowl down on the counter and pulled off the plastic covering.
“Are you kidding me with that? Dude, I was so fucking wasted at that party.”
“Is that when you slept with, um, what's her name?”
Jake squinted up into the ceiling with a perplexed half-smile on his face. “I…guess…”
“You guess?”
“So much interest in who I sleep with, need to start asking you some questions.” Jake shot Heath a teasing look while he mixed whatever was in the bowl.
“Ask away, if I've been in a photograph with her, I've probably slept with her,” Heath quipped.
“What about the chick in New York you were chatting up outside the liquor store, her too?”
Heath spread his arms wide. “You were taking forever in there, what do you want?”
They both laughed and Heath felt some of the nervous tension start to dissipate.
“It's good to see you like this, laughing.” Jake bent down to fetch some bowls from a cabinet underneath the counter.
It was hard for Heath to laugh. He felt guilty about being in California with Jake while Michelle was taking care of Matilda and fielding questions about her father. Then there was the matter of what he was doing here. Not just visiting a friend, but consorting with a lover. Heath walked in Jake’s front door a friend but he knew he would walk out as something else entirely. It was in the air all around them, the current that passed through their fingers from skin to bones when they touched, their eyes drifting over one another not seeing enough, wanting to see more.
Heath had no idea how Jake turned salad ingredients into sex, but somehow he found eating alone with Jake to be very arousing. The salad was an incredible mixture of bitterness and fruit with strips of rare beef on top. At first thought, Heath had sulked privately over the concept of salad for dinner. But the competing flavors were divine and the wine they sipped made him feel heady and open, like they were eating outdoors. Jake’s dining room was a small, round table in the corner of the kitchen. The room was losing its light to the evening and the single lamp from the living room fashioned a warm glow. Their long legs were entangled underneath the tabletop, Jake’s bare legs against Heath’s denim, their calves and thighs pushing and pressing because there was no one there to say anything about it. They watched each other openly, not stealing glances, staring full on, in silence."
9. "“I want to get on my hands and knees for you.”
“I don’t have a lot of control with that position, it does things to me,” Jake breathed.
“I don’t want control,” Heath whispered, “I want to get fucked.”
Jake groaned and pushed Heath onto his stomach. Heath quivered with anticipation as he listened to Jake get the lotion and come up close behind him. He felt his mouth water when Jake spread his legs and slid the tip of his finger in. Heath tried to breathe and willed himself to relax. He had never felt so vulnerable, and so sexy.
Jake rotated his finger a bit and pulled Heath onto his hands and knees by his waist. Heath loved being moved and lifted, loved the strength of the body above him. Heath pushed back onto Jake’s finger, so ready, wanting to give everything he had. He could hear Jake’s ragged breathing and felt himself being stretched, tremendous pressure, a tight burning along his entire backside.
“Ah…uh….God!” Heath choked out. Jake pushed a little further and Heath held onto the edge of the bed next to the wall, swatting the pillow onto the floor.
“Mmm…burns,” Heath managed, exhaling sharply and gripping the bed tightly."
10. "Heath chewed at his bottom lip and tugged on his earlobe. “Can I be a complete wanker, for one minute? I just want to hear it once, and never again will I be such a fucking girl.”
“I love you.” Jake’s eyes hovered somewhere between Heath’s nose and lips in an expression that whispered, “Come here…”
Heath closed his eyes and leaned into Jake.
“I, Heathcl…,” he began, the rest of his words tumbling into Jake’s mouth. The kiss vibrated restlessly between them as Jake sucked in air before he broke the kiss gasping. He leaned his forehead on Heath’s shoulder.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Jake murmured while tugging down hard on the belt loops of Heath’s jeans. Jake’s habit of pulling on his clothes had left him with a growing collection of torn T-shirts and underwear. It suited him just fine, actually."