THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB William Written by Lady Poetess egiggles at moose-mail.com /~bbp Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. PROLOGUE "Don't be shy, Ethan. You know you want to join in." Ethan Hawke crossed his arms and scowled. "No," he said in a final tone, daring anyone to disagree with him. "Yes, I know it's hard that the other members of the board went ahead with this despite your objections," Freddie Prinze, Jr told him. "I normally won't do something like this, but the Celebrate Camp Festival is for a good cause, Ethan. Proceeds to AIDS research, counseling and support for gay teens, and sex education in schools are all good, and more importantly, it makes the Brigadiers head above its closest rivals when it comes to being an important figurehead in the arts scene." "I don't know, Freddie," Ethan said, sitting down heavily. "I started this because I just wanted a place for people to perform arts without being troubled by self-imposed censorship and whims of the patrons or politicians. But now, the Brigadiers are performing some mainstream shit I won't be caught dead associating my name to." "We need money to run the institute, Ethan," Freddie told his friend. They had this talk many times before, and while Freddie sympathized with Ethan, he was pragmatic enough to know that you cannot become successful and still remain cutting edge. He was counting the days when Ethan would resign and return to his roots. He knew there were many artists that would defect to whichever venture Ethan would set up next. Freddie would follow the man as well. He enjoyed being one of the busier managers of the institute, but he had his other job - financial advisor and consultant - to think about and the Brigadiers were eating too much into his day job. He looked forward to starting small again, radical and exciting, with Ethan. "With the Brigadiers so popular and mainstream - " Freddie smiled as Ethan shuddered visibly at the word 'mainstream' - "we cannot function without considering what the media and the politicians would think of us." "I've tendered my resignation," Ethan announced. He studied Freddie's placid expression. "You know I will do this." "I've expected it, yes." "I have only begged one man before in my life, and that's Doc. And I'm begging you now, Freddie. I want you to be with me when I start another center. This time we'll not repeat our mistakes and become too big," said Ethan earnestly. "Will you come with me, Freddie?" "Yes, of course! What have I to lose?" Freddie told Ethan. "That makes it more vital that you play a bigger role in this Celebrate Camp Festival, Ethan. Leave with a bang - remind them that all this started with your vision." "But... singing Broadway music and ABBA tunes?" Ethan made a choking sound. "I'd probably puke on stage. Won't that be a fucking vision?" "At least give a speech." "Where I can tell them to go to hell?" "You do know that is why they love you, don't you?" said Freddie with a grin. "You're so defiantly counterculture, always doing what no one else is doing, and not caring what they think of you." After a wildly successful ballet production that Ethan considered his biggest mistake in his career, Ethan had, against his critics' prediction, remained a darling of the art critics years after he had stopped being a fad and his fame ebbed to a more normal level, much to Ethan's relief. "Well, they almost drove me to my old suicidal ways when they made a Hallmark movie from my autobiography." The autobiography was another mistake according to Ethan's estimation. The book was a dark and too honest account of Ethan's life, written at the final stages of his battle with alcoholism, drug addiction, and depression as a final exorcism on his part. He expected that no one would care. Instead, his unashamed outpouring of his increasing obsession and devotion to his shrink only earned Ethan a romantic Byronic reputation. He sacked his agent for selling movie rights to the book without actually talking to him about it first. Freddie studied the sheet of paper in his hand closely for the first time since he received it earlier this evening. A name caught his eye. He reread it again, and burst out laughing when he realized that he had not misread the name. "What the fuck is it?" Ethan asked sourly. "I think someone - Doc? Danny? - played a trick. You're listed here to perform in the ABBA medley in the second act." Ethan paled at the news. ONE Ronan Keating was down with a severe sore throat and high fever and his lover Stephen Gately decided to pull out to tend to Ronan. Both of them sent a very nicely worded apology with regrets but that meant that Guy Pearce was missing a baritone and a tenor to perform a series of modified two-piece choral pieces of Anton Bruckner. Guy could step in if he could - he could play more musical instruments than any other person and he could handle vocals from the lower ranges of second bass to the upper ranges of first tenor. But he was charged with managing behind the scenes so the last thing he needed was to juggle rehearsals into his packed schedule. Will Robert Young stopped singing when he saw Guy walk into the piano room. Not that anyone was using the piano. The choral piece was performed acapella and the only music in the room came from Will's radio playing the original version of Gradual. Following Guy was a really cute guy that made Will pause and take a second look. The first impression Will had of this hunk was that the hunk had dark brown neat straight hair that made him seem to absorb light despite the well-lit brightness of the piano room. The dimples were killers along with those bedroom eyes, and the square jaw and military-like posture of the man made Will think that maybe all those bad military porn he'd the misfortune to watch had some merits after all. The man's well-formed musculature was evident in those thickly muscled upper arms nicely displayed in a sleeveless basketball top. Ditto those legs in khaki shorts that ended around his knee. The second impression Will had was that this hunk was probably very straight. He didn't have a good ping for his fellow queer folks like some of his friends, but it was a safe bet that someone that obviously came from a basketball match was most likely a relative of one of the predominantly gay or bisexual members of this center. The man didn't cast any curious glances at the men that walk past the door, including the almost unearthly beautiful Jude Law that was laughing in his devastatingly charming way as Jude carried his keyboard and walked with his friends in their band to practice in the room down the hall. Everyone with a pulse that liked men looked at least twice at Jude Law, but this stranger just looked around the room instead as if he had never been in a musical room before. Which was likely - this stranger had "jock" screaming from every inch of him. He reminded Will of those determinedly straight guys in the football team in high school that would freak out at anything even a little gay. Will with some regret crossed this hunk off his imaginary harem. He never considered straight-acting males as the ideal type and chased after straight guys like some gay men he knew and he didn't intend to join the ranks of those constantly heartbroken men any time soon. "Will, you're sounding good," Guy said. "Here's Jesus Hernandez. He just signed up to be a baritone to your tenor. Come on, Jesus - " "Call me Jay," the man said. He sounded uncomfortable as he looked at Will in what seemed like a mildly unnerved expression. Will hoped that Jay wouldn't have issues working with an openly gay guy. "I... uh, I've never actually done anything like this before." "This is your first time singing?" Guy asked skeptically. "I mean, I don't usually sing outside the shower." "Never mind, we all start somewhere," Guy said kindly. To Will, he said, "I've had Jay sing a few notes, and he's a bass. Bruckner will be magic with you two doing the male parts." Jay looked blank. "Can you read music notes?" Will asked gently, showing Jay the sheaves of paper in question. "Maybe this isn't a good idea," Jay said softly. "I'm really not like you guys..." "Well, we all need to start somewhere," Guy told Jay firmly, not wanting to let this man go now that he had found a replacement for Ronan Keating. "Will can teach you everything you need. He writes music and teaches piano and voice classes to spoiled rich kids all over the city." "Thanks a lot, Guy," Will said. "Well, Jay, it's pretty easy. I'll show you how to read the notes and then we'll get you to hit the notes." "I'll leave you two alone," Guy said. "I have to talk with Danny and the boys about their set." Will and Jay watched Guy dash from the room. Uncomfortable silence descended in the room for a few seconds as they studied each other. Will had to suppress a keen disappointment that Jay was really starting to look like a classic case of a straight guy caught in an environment he was unfamiliar with. He knew how that felt. He was the only male in his large family of females (his father died when he was two and his mother never remarried) until his older sisters got married and had kids, and even then, he was never comfortable with her sisters' husbands. They and he had very little in common and he suspected that they tolerated him only because he was their wives' baby brother. It was his remembering how awkward it felt to be alienated that prompted Will to smile his best grin and pushed the musical sheets across the table to Jay. He sat behind the piano and lifted the cover. "Do you know the 'Do Re Mi' song from The Sound of Music?" he asked conversationally. "Man, that's a fucking awful movie." A breeder, definitely, Will thought. It was a pity, really, even though he really, really tried very hard not to dwell on it. TWO Will didn't really know how or why, but Jay and he found a kind of chemistry between them that was almost organic in how natural and comfortable it was. Jay came from a military background, as Will suspected, and he was an army brat until he graduated from college and settled down in Miami to start a business with his brothers. Will raised a brow in surprise when he learned that Jay was one of the six co-owners of the third largest demolition firm in the country. You couldn't get any more macho than that, surely? Jay liked basketball and fast bikes and he was an active participant in the country's motor-cross circuit during his annual vacation. He cited his favorite musicians as Prodigy and OutKast and his CD selection was an eclectic mix of hardcore hip hop to heavy garage. Will knew this because he and Jay practiced on weekends at Jay's penthouse apartment, a place three times bigger than Will's rented flat and so luxuriously furnished that Will was almost afraid to step on the floor in fear of cracking the shiny smooth marble. There were also many, many photos of gorgeous women all around Jay's place - skinny model-like women, curvy beautiful women, ordinary women, all immortalized in intimate embraces or playful postures with the handsome hunk himself. Will wasn't the only one convinced that Jay was straight. Their straight female friends - always ready to check out the few straight men that ventured into their world - cooed, flattered, and flirted with him so outrageously that Will was too amused to be jealous. Okay, maybe he was jealous a little, but he was only human. Jay obviously enjoyed their attention and flirted outrageously back, although Will was with him often enough to notice that he took care to never make sure that these women got too close to him to get the wrong ideas. On the other hand, while Jay might be a womanizing hardcore music fan that confessed to be once heavily into the recreational drug and party scene, Will couldn't be any more different. Will had six long relationships in his twenty-four years, not counting a few temporary indiscretions when he was in between boyfriends, his music tastes were rather clich‚d in that he liked classical and stage music, and he hated speed and dangerous sports. But it was with Will that Jay hanged out with after rehearsals. Even Will's friends began to remark three weeks after Jay came into Will's life that he and Jay seemed to be able to second guess and complement each other. "Will you - " Will only had to ask and Jay would have already passed him the salt, to cite a frequent example. When Will was frustrated at the way rehearsal was going, Jay always had some jokes cheesy enough to make Will laugh. Jay, a quick study, soon mastered the basic of vocal performance and he was able to catch most of the notes he was supposed to hit in the short time they had him working on the choral pieces. Will began looking forward to evenings when he would leave the music school he worked at to meet Jay and to sing with him. The night guard often had to remind them that it was eleven in the evening and everyone had gone home before they returned back to earth from their private world of music and laughter. "Why do you come here?" Will asked during the third week. "I mean, why sing the kind of music you are not familiar with? Why not join a hip hop band or something?" "I like this kind of music, as you call it," Jay said. They sat on the roof of the building, watching the night sky and the streets below, Will not wanting to go home yet and Jay apparently content to do the same. "I heard what I know now is Mozart sometime during my high school prom and I really liked it. I feel as if I'm transported into a different world, you know?" "A world where sounds are pure and soothing and nothing else matters?" suggested Will. "I always feel as if I'm enveloped by some warm cocoon of aural bliss when I listen to Bach. The passion, the feelings conveyed by the friction of strings and the rush of wind through hollowed wind instruments - surely such magical sounds from such simple action suggests the presence of a divine being." "Well, yeah, only you put it better than I could," Jay said. He caught Will shivering slightly as a cool breeze blew, and he took off his jacket and placed it on Will. "A few months ago I was fucked up. I wanted to die because my father passed away. I've never lost anyone before, Will, and I can't bear losing my father. I thought he would live forever, you know? Anyway, that night I somehow turned into some classical music station and that's when I remember how I felt that night at prom, like I'm floating in some peaceful white light and the world is quiet. I slept without dreaming after that and when I woke up, I told myself I am never letting go of this feeling or the music. I want to sing the music." He turned to look into Will's eyes, an intense and penetrating searing gaze that made Will shiver because Will thought his soul was drowning into this man's eyes. And maybe it was - surely he was falling in love with this man as the days passed. Not because Jay was cute, but because Jay made him laugh and their singing had him believing that music was never this beautiful or tranquil. He once believed that music was a pleasure best experienced solo in his favorite room with his eyes closed and with all sounds from the outside world muted as much as possible. Now, he slept to the sounds of Jay's rich bass washing over his senses like rich honey. "I really enjoy singing with you," Jay said. And Will wondered how this man seemed to be able to read his mind yet remain unattainable. Misreading Will's shiver, Jay casually placed his muscular arm around Will and pulled the man closer to his sturdy body. Will was only human; he rested his cheek on Jay's steady right pectoral muscle. He didn't know how cold he was until the heat of Jay's body suffused through fabric into Will's skin and system. Will inhaled softly and Jay's clean scent of skin and male musk forced him to swallow a groan of desire. "The world is so quiet," Will whispered softly. Jay began singing the first few lines of Gradual. Will added in his part and they remained like this, looking at each other as they completed each other and the music, enjoying the silence, enjoying the music, the world around them forgotten for now. "I want us to keep being friends after the Celebrate Camp Festival," Jay said. "Say yes, Will, please." Will decided that he couldn't blame himself for falling in love with this man. He doubted that even angels could withstand this absolutely perfect man who was slowly becoming what Will feared was the missing parts of his soul. THREE Jay pulled up and stopped the car by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. They had driven out of town for who knew how long and how far. Will wasn't keeping track - he was enjoying himself too much laughing and talking with Jay during the drive. Jay had asked Will that weekend to help him start a classical CD collection. The evening turned into one of the most enjoyable evenings Will ever had. Jay had twirled him on the floor to the sounds of OutKast and Will laughed in an exuberant abandon he had rarely felt while the staff of the CD store watched on in amusement. They ate sandwiches and shared stories about their lives. And then Jay drove while listening to the Kate Bush and Indigo Girls CDs Will bought. Kate Bush's ethereal vocal, which Jay was firmly in love with at the end of the drive, was heartbreaking as she sings about her insecurities and the burdens of love when Jay left the radio on, opened the car door, and nodded at Will to get out. And Will thought that it was indeed heartbreaking. His heart was breaking from the wild hope that an erotic interlude would result from tonight and the fervent prayer that it wouldn't. He didn't know what he wanted. He only knew that he was in love and he knew his heart would break from this impossible love. "Listen - it's so silent," Jay shushed Will as he took Will's hand in his. And Will listened. The night was silent except for the soft chirps of night insects, a distant roar of a vehicle, Kate Bush, and the pounding of his heart so loud that he feared that Jay would hear. "What are we doing here?" Will whispered, not willing to break the tranquility, as Jay led him down a path among the undergrowth. "My secret hideout," Jay said. It was a pool. Will groaned. Please no, not this. Not - yikes! Will closed his eyes as Jay pulled off his shirt. "I don't skinny dip," he said. It was true, he never did it, and he wouldn't do it now, not with Jay. He wasn't insane. "Suit yourself." There was a soft splash. Will opened his eyes. Sure enough, Jay's clothes were a pile on the ground. He looked around, anywhere but the pool, wondering what he ought to do now. And it was then he realized that Jay was making no sound. It was quiet, too quiet. "Jay!" he yelled as he ran towards the pool, imagining the man drowning or worse. "Jay, where are you?" Jay laughed as he pounced, grabbing Will's waist from behind with a "Gotcha!" They fell heavily to the ground, and Will realized that Jay's wet and very naked body was pressed against his. It was enough to freeze his rational thoughts. Lust took over, and he was kissing Jay. Jay was kissing him back, touching him, rough and beautiful hands exposing Will's skin until Will choked in pain as Jay's thick cock slowly filled him. They moved together on the ground, slowly at first, savoring the rhythm, only to increase the face faster and more urgently as desire flamed and crested, until their world exploded in a shattering climax. "You owe me an explanation," Jay said quietly when Will opened his door. "When I woke up, you're gone." "I managed to flag a cab," Will said weakly. "Why did you leave me?" Jay asked. "What can I do? You gave me a pity screw," said Will. Seeing Jay's expression, he explained, "Come on, Jay, you know as well as I do that you're straight. And everyone knows I am attracted to you, no doubt you do too. I can only think that you fucked me because I am so in love with you that it must show and you feel sorry for me. I need time to think and..." Will sobbed. "I want to know how to make our friendship okay again." "Two things, Will," Jay told him as he placed his arm on the doorway, preventing Will from closing the door should the man chose to. "One, I love you. Two, what makes you think I am straight?" "Everyone thinks so." "Because I like sports and I don't like musicals and Streisand? Stereotyping much, no?" teased Jay. "And those photos of your girlfriends - " "And they are my girlfriends, in the sense that we are good friends that hang out, talk about guys, and have fun together," Jay explained. "I've never slept with a woman, Will." "Those photos - " "Are as bad as that photo of you, Guy, and some guys wearing skimpy thongs looking as if you have your hands all over each other during the 1998 Gay Parade. But you don't sleep with each other, do you?" "Point taken, Jay," said Will. He closed his eyes. "I'm such a fool," he groaned. "Well, we've talked and made things clear now. I love you and you love me back," said Jay tenderly. "We make each other's world a little more peaceful and beautiful. I will teach you to love hip- hop and you will be my choir buddy. Marry me, Will, be mine and make me the happiest man on earth." Will sighed. He ought to control his tears as he wanted to remember Jay's face and everything about this moment with as much clarity as possible. "I will be honored to be yours, Jay." Jay smiled. "As I will be yours, always." EPILOGUE "Not going back?" Freddie asked as he paused at the doorway of Ethan's office. "The party's long over and everyone sane has gone home." Ethan looked up from his inscrutable contemplation at his desk. He just bit his lower lip and remained silent. "The Festival was a success." "It was awful," Ethan spoke finally. "It is everything I despised: overly showy and calculated to pander to the current camp revival. Thankfully, there's the relatively sane classical music interlude to keep me from ripping my eyeballs out of my sockets. And fuck, me singing in that disgusting ten minute musical!" "You're not bad at all." Freddie tried not to laugh. "Your improvisations improved the musical. That line about sodomizing Fernando in a church is a hit with the crowd." "I gotta send something to that happy couple Jay and Will, I guess." Freddie shrugged. "You should, I guess. This Festival isn't such a loss after all, if two people get together because of it." "I guess." Ethan was quiet for a few seconds. "I will miss this place," he confessed. "You can always come back for quick visits." "Yeah, I guess. I won't miss the fucking awful shit like the Festival, but I will miss the atmosphere. Standing there and watching as Jay and Will kiss and announce that they're gonna... well, it's nice." "So you're still resigning?" asked Freddie. "I am. But it's a harder decision than I expected." Ethan reluctantly got on his feet. "Is Doc still sleeping on the coach?" "Doug is holding him as he pukes into the sink." "I should be the one holding him," Ethan murmured. "I guess I better go get him." Freddie walked away. Ethan gave his office one last look, sighed one last time, switched off the light, and shut the door behind him.