MOROCCO AND MANGOES CHAPTER 11

Tangled Web
It had been a brilliant idea for Colin to introduce Eamon to Francisco. They hit it off right away, somewhat to Jonathan's obvious consternation, and ended up talking for a long time before they went to dinner and throughout the meal—though Eamon's attentions were somewhat divided when they were actually at the table.
They'd gone to Ploenchit, a very modern, upscale portion of Bangkok populated by glamorous stores and chic restaurants. It was much more Eamon's style, where Colin would have visited any dingy old pub and been happy. They ended up at Witch's Oyster Bar, which offered far more than oysters—thankfully, since Colin had no taste for them—and had a distinctly British feel to it.
They were at a half table, half booth, Colin sitting in a chair across from Eamon, who was in the booth portion with Francisco and Jonathan. Jared was sitting in a chair between Colin and Eamon. Jared was the reason Eamon was no longer completely focused on Francisco. Jonathan seemed much happier with this, sitting back and sipping his champagne, his arm draped over Francisco's shoulders.
“He was a crazy bastard when we were teenagers,” Eamon had been regaling Jared with tales of Colin's misspent youth for the past twenty minutes while Colin picked idly at his food. “Has he told you about the time he ran our Mum's car into a lake?”
Jared focused a bemused gaze on Colin, ripping apart and eating a chunk of bread. He looked good tonight, wearing a tailored dark gray suit with a pink dress shirt underneath, collar undone, no tie. His hair was loose on his shoulders. He was starting to grow his beard back before they went north, having had to shave it so they could do other scenes while they waited. “Did you run a car into a lake, Colin?”
“It was only the front bit,” Colin shot Eamon a dour look. Eamon was dressed nicely as well, all in black, black jacket and black shirt and trousers, looking incredibly sharp. Colin knew there was only one reason he ever cleaned himself up that well. “It was an accident, besides.”
“Yes, accidents tend to happen when you're too young to actually drive.”
“Oh that's shite!” Colin tossed his fork on his plate. “I was damn well old enough to drive. You just don't remember it right!” Colin immediately regretted raising his voice, and indeed, Eamon gave him the sort of look one reserves for their younger brother when he's being belligerent. “I'm sorry.” Colin rubbed his forehead. “It's been a long day.”
Eamon chuckled and picked up the champagne bottle sitting between them on the table. “Then relax and drink some more,” he refilled Colin's glass. “Has he been this way since he got here?” He winked at Jared.
Jared smirked. “Mostly, yes. I think he's trying to get into Alexander's mindset.”
“I had no idea Alexander was wound so tight.” Eamon sat the bottle back down on the table. “Tight, maybe. But I'm sure that's a question for Hephaistion.” Eamon smiled at Jared. Jared grinned back, and Colin forced a smile too. He saw Francisco watching him, sipping from his champagne glass, his dark eyes taking Colin in knowingly.
“I'm sorry,” Colin said again, sitting up straighter. “I didn't mean to be short with you Eamon. It really has been a long day. And if we're going to tell stories, why don't I tell some on you?” Colin gave him a genuine smile.
Eamon smirked back at him, then glanced at Jared. “Make sure you tell him the one where you saw me naked in the showers and I'm positively huge.”
Laughter broke out over the table, and Colin attempted to relax. He didn't understand why he was so tense to begin with. It didn't even have anything to do with Jared's knee resting against his beneath the table. No, but it might have something to do with you wondering if his other one is against Eamon's.
Colin told some stories, but Eamon took over the conversation again before long, which Colin didn't mind. It had always been that way. Eamon was the talker and Colin was the laid back one. It got onto the subject of Eamon's sexuality, and Colin saw him readying the subtle maneuvers before they were even pulled out.
“Now see, this side of the table has the right idea,” Eamon was telling Colin with a grin. He gestured to Francisco and Jonathan and Francisco laughed. “They know who the fairer sex really is.”
“Actually, I'm bisexual.” Jonathan said dryly. He hadn't been laughing much—nor even trying, as Colin at least was.
“So am I,” Jared said, which was exactly what Eamon had been digging for.
“Oh,” the light in Eamon's eyes became a little brighter. “Then I guess that leaves poor wee Colin out in the cold.”
“Screw you all, I'll take the waitress home,” Colin replied. There was more laughter. Jared just smirked, looking from the corner of his eye at Colin.
“I think that's why Colin and I have always been so close,” Eamon said to Jared. His full attention was on him now.
“Because you're gay?” Jared sat back, slumped elegantly in his chair, crossing his legs. At least Colin knew where his other knee was now.
“Yes,” Eamon looked at Colin and grinned. “There's never been any competition between us, you see. When he's chatting up a woman, he doesn't have to worry about me trying to steal her. I just take her brother home.”
Laughter again. Colin smiled and finished off his champagne, then poured some more.
“Do you go out together often?” Jared asked. As Colin sat the bottle back down, Eamon grabbed it up. He refilled Jared's glass.
“Oh yeah,” Eamon sat the bottle down and picked up the glass, handing it to Jared. Jared gave him a little smile and took it. “We go to clubs together a lot back home, or when I'm visiting him.”
“Gay clubs?” Jared shot Colin a look. If he was looking for some dramatic reaction to the glass refilling, some sign of jealousy, he wasn't going to get it.
“Sometimes,” Eamon shrugged. “He tolerates them for me, and I tolerate a night of strippers for him.” Eamon chuckled.
“I can't imagine straight-laced Colin in a gay bar,” Jared said pointedly, still looking at Colin.
“Neither can I,” Francisco piped up. He was smiling, watching Colin still. “Must be a sight.”
“I go!” Colin said defensively. “God, it's not that big of a deal.”
“I help him out,” Eamon was leaning toward Jared with a smile. “If someone hits on him, I pretend to be his boyfriend.”
Jared laughed. Jonathan snorted and took a long drink.
“That is demented on so many levels,” Jared chuckled. “And you look so alike. People must realize you're related.”
“That makes them run away even faster,” Eamon laughed. He sat back, but his eyes were still on Jared.
“We should go,” Jared gave Colin's knee a kick with his dangling foot. “There's gotta be some in this town.”
“Tonight?” Colin made a face, turning his fork in his pasta, which had largely gone uneaten.
“Yeah, why not!” Eamon said eagerly. “I'll make some calls, we'll find out where one is.”
“What, do you have instant access to the queer network?” Jared asked with a smirk. “You call up the gay hotline and find the nearest bar?”
Eamon laughed uproariously. Francisco laughed as well, nearly spilling his drink.
“Of course!' Francisco said, smiling at Jared. “We have a special number to keep connected!”
“Actually,” Eamon was still chuckling at Jared's joke, which Colin didn't think was that funny. “I'm going to call up a mate back home and have him look it up on the Internet.”
Eamon got to his feet, pulling out his cell phone from his jacket pocket. “Be back in a few, loves.” He put his hand on Jared's shoulder as he went around him, then gave Colin a firm pat on his as he left.
Colin looked down at his pasta, hating himself and the way he was feeling.
Francisco cleared his throat gently. “Jonathan, why don't we use the facilities while Eamon is gone?”
Jonathan slid out of the booth and Francisco followed him. This was the universal signal for ‘let's leave these two alone for a minute.' Francisco gently touched Colin's shoulder as they went. The universal sign for ‘hang in there, jealous fool.'
When everyone was gone, there was a long moment of silence in which Colin stared at his plate and Jared sipped his champagne.
“Damn,” Jared finally sighed. “The way he looks at me, it's like his hands are all over me.”
Colin winced slightly, but said nothing.
“It must be something in the Farrell genes. He's been fucking me with his eyes ever since we got here,” he chuckled.
Colin once again didn't answer. He was neither going to defend nor incriminate his own brother.
“Your accent has changed,” Jared said.
“What?” Colin looked up.
“It's gotten thicker. More Irish.” He sucked at his lower lip a moment, studying him.
“It's because of Eamon.” Colin looked back down at his plate. “Usually I don't have it because I've been around so much, but when I'm around him and hear it, it gets stronger.”
Jared was quiet a moment. Colin looked up from his plate again, pulling a deep breath. “Listen, you can drop the act. I'm not going to choose between you and me brother.”
“There, you did it again,” Jared pointed around his glass. “You said ‘me' instead of ‘my.'”
“I don't give a fuck what I said!” Colin glanced around at the other diners, then lowered his voice. “Just knock it the fuck off.”
“Knock what off?” Jared was bobbing his foot, the tip of his shoe brushing lightly against Colin's pant leg. “What am I doing?”
“Trying to make me fucking jealous with him. It's not going to work. He's my brother, and I love him. I refuse to put anyone above him. You've got a brother, surely you understand.”
Jared snorted and pushed his hair back off his shoulder. “If you're jealous, it's not because I'm trying to make you that way.” He took another drink, eyeing Colin over the rim of his glass. “Besides,” he lowered it, licking his lips. “If you are, who fucking cares? Last I checked, we weren't married.”
“Exactly. So knock it the fuck off, because it's pathetic.”
“We won't talk about what's pathetic right now.”
They didn't speak again until Eamon came back to the table. He slid into the booth, tapping the antenna down on his phone triumphantly. “Found one!” He settled into the seat, grinning at Jared. “You like to dance?”
Jared gave an ironic snort. “Do I? Do I like to dance, Colin?”
“Fucked if I know.” Colin was busy finishing off the bottle of champagne.
“I hope the other two will come along,” Eamon glanced at the empty booth beside him. “Francisco is an interesting man.”
Jared smirked. “I think Jonathan is a bit jealous of you Eamon,” he looked pointedly at Colin. “He's pathetic like that.”
Eamon smirked, digging in the pocket of his jacket. He drew out a pack of cigarettes. “Well I'm not trying to steal Francisco away.” He turned it over and shook two cigarettes out. “I prefer men who are a little sturdier—never went for the willowy and winsome look.” His eyes were on Jared again.
“I think he's beautiful,” Colin said. “Even a straight man can see that.”
Eamon smirked. “Good kisser too, I hear.” He grinned and held a cigarette out to Jared. “You smoke, love?”
Jared held up a hand and smiled. “Only after sex.”
Eamon grinned and withdrew it. “I'll have to make sure to pick up a fresh pack for later then.” He winked.
Colin went to join Francisco and Jonathan in the bathroom.
“You all right?” Francisco said softly, coming up behind Colin as he stood at the sink, splashing water on his face. His fingers trailed lightly over Colin's lower back.
“Yeah,” Colin sighed into his wet hands. “It's just a fucked up situation.” He lifted his head and yanked some towels from the dispenser. He started drying his face, Francisco gazing at him in the mirror, still rubbing his fingers over his back. “Where's Jonathan?” Colin asked.
“He went out for some air. You want to talk about it?”
“No, no I don't.” Colin gave a humorless chuckle and wadded up the towels. “No, I do not.”
Francisco nodded. “It's hard to talk about something when you aren't even sure how you feel about it to begin with.” He reached up, smoothing Colin's hair back behind his ear. Colin turned and looked at him. Francisco's dark eyes gazed back into his, so very sympathetic, without a trace of mockery or contempt. The bathroom was quiet and empty outside of them.
Colin stared at him for a long moment, so many things boiling up inside him he wasn't sure how to sort them. He started to lean forward.
“Ah,” Francisco stopped him, a finger against Colin's lips. He said softly, “That's not the way to fix this. Two wrongs don't make a right.”
Colin drew back, then sighed and nodded. Francisco lowered his hand and smiled. “I'm flattered, though.”
Colin threw the towels away and headed for the door. Going out it, he looked back at Francisco, who was still standing at the sinks, facing the mirrors. He gave Colin another smile, those dark eyes meeting his in the glass and holding a certain heat. Colin hurried out before it had a chance to travel the length of his spine.
Francisco had to convince Jonathan they should go to the club, but they both came. Jared had come with them so he rode with them, Colin in the car with Eamon, Eamon giving him directions.
“God, Jared is something else,” Eamon said as they crawled along the traffic-congested streets. “So fucking hot.” He sighed. “I'm sure you haven't noticed, even though you're the lucky bastard playing his boyfriend.”
Colin flexed his fingers on the wheel. “He's all right.”
Eamon snorted. “All right is an understatement. He's the kind of guy that could make you give up the scene. Settle down, be responsible.”
Colin looked sideways at him. “You don't even know him,” he scoffed.
“I know enough. He's smart, witty. Such a sharp fucking wit.” He shook his head, sounding both impressed and mesmerized. “And so casual. So easy in his skin. Have you noticed that?”
“I guess so.”
“He's a ball of fire. He sets me on fire.” Eamon chuckled. “God, I wonder what he's like in bed?”
Colin brought the car to a stop at a light, swallowing hard.
“Sorry,” Eamon smirked, and whacked him gently on the arm. “Am I freaking you out?”
“No,” Colin looked in the mirror to see if the other car was behind them. “Like I said, it's just been a long day.”
“Yeah…” Eamon seemed to be entirely oblivious to Colin's words or mood. “I tell you what though, I'm damn well gonna find out what he's like in bed.” He turned, looking through the back window, then smiled and waved. Colin saw Jared and Francisco wave back. Jonathan was glowering behind the wheel. “You wanna put a bet on it?” Eamon turned back around, grinning at Colin. “Like we used to? We'll wager dinner tomorrow night on it. If I get him in the sack tonight, you're buying.”
“I think I have shooting tomorrow night,” Colin looked up desperately at the light, willing it to change.
The club they went to was loud, crowded, and uber-trendy. Colin was never particularly uncomfortable in gay bars, as he'd been to plenty with Eamon. A bar was a bar, as long as they served whisky. He ignored the salacious looks tossed his way and went straight for it.
Jonathan joined him, tossing back shots with him and playing props for each other if anyone started flirting. Jared and Eamon of course went to dance, as did Francisco.
“I know he's your brother,” Jonathan said, speaking loudly to be heard. The three of them were out on the floor. Jared had his jacket off, hanging on the back of Colin's stool, his shirtsleeves rolled up. “But if he doesn't stop flirting with Francisco, there's gonna be a brawl.”
“He's not interested in Francisco,” Colin said dully. He threw back another shot, wincing as it burned down his throat—not so much now, though. He'd had enough for taste and heat not to matter anymore. Eamon had his arms draped around Jared's waist from behind, grinding against his ass, saying something in his ear. Jared was smirking, hips wiggling.
Jonathan gave Colin a look, and they ordered up another round.
Jonathan went to the bathroom at one point and Colin sat there, nursing a beer between shots. He had his back to the dance floor, unable to watch anymore. Someone slid into Jonathan's seat and he looked up. It was a handsome blond boy with a very tight shirt on.
“Anyone ever tell you that you look like a movie star?” He said, leaning toward Colin and flashing him a flirty smile.
Colin smirked and considered the ways he could answer, but he felt hands on his shoulders then, and Eamon leaned in close, breathing hard. Colin could feel the heat coming off of him. “Hi honey.” He reached over Colin and grabbed his beer. After taking a drink he looked at the boy, who had sat back, eyeing Eamon. “Who's your new friend lovey?” He put the beer back and grabbed Colin's cigarettes off the bar.
“Oh, a real nice bloke, says I look like a movie star.” Colin smirked back at him.
Eamon gave a high-pitched laugh as he tucked a cigarette between his lips. The boy got to his feet. “Sorry for intruding.” He slid off into the crowd, and they both broke down into laughter.
“I feel so insulted.” Colin handed his lighter over his shoulder for him.
Eamon lit his cigarette, then gave the lighter back to Colin. He blew the smoke out, then put his chin against Colin's shoulder. “Oh my God, I'm so gonna fuck him,” he said, sounding giddy. “I gotta stand here a minute, you don't mind, do you? He had his arse in my crotch and I'm a wee bit excited.” He gave a tittering laugh.
Colin smirked and took a drink of his beer. “Where'd he go?”
“To the bathroom,” he laughed again. “Maybe I ought to follow. Take him by surprise.”
“I don't think you're drunk enough yet for that,” Colin passed his beer around. “Come on, I'll order another.”
The others joined them shortly, Jared sitting between Colin and Eamon, Francisco on the other side of Colin, Jonathan next to him and keeping a hand on some part of his body at all times. Colin ordered up an entire bottle of whisky and started getting Francisco to do shots with him—it was preferable to watching his brother practically licking Jared. Francisco got drunk very quickly, to the point he was laughing at everything and nearly falling off his stool. Colin drank heavily, until he was in a nice, warm place where everything was bright and out of focus.
Coming out of the club several hours later, Eamon was holding Colin up and Jonathan was hauling Francisco along. Colin and Francisco were singing an Irish drinking song that Colin had taught him, boisterously loud and off-key.
“God, it's a good thing some of us aren't alcoholics,” Jared said. “Somebody has to drive your wrecked asses back to the hotel.”
“I'll meet you back there,” Jonathan said, trying to keep Francisco on his feet. “If I'm late it's because we had to stop to puke.” Jonathan eyed Francisco.
Colin sat in the back of their car, Jared driving and Eamon up front with him, not sitting on his side but more toward the middle. Colin willed himself to pass out, but it didn't happen.
It was the longest car ride of Colin's life. He tried to distract himself by singing some more and staring out at the traffic with vision that was slowly going in and out of focus. It was no good though, his eyes kept going back to the front seat. Eamon was playing with Jared's hair, then he was kissing his neck. He was whispering something in his ear, something about how gorgeous he was. He clearly heard the words “suck your cock” at one point. Colin was burning and wanted to scream. Jared was focused on the road and Colin couldn't see his face.
They arrived at the hotel the same time as Jonathan and Francisco. Jonathan drug Francisco out, who waved and shrieked excitedly, “Hello Colin!”
Colin waved back, but had a hard time smiling despite his inebriation. Francisco started yelling something in Spanish, and Eamon cracked up. He and Jared were coming around the car, Jared looking flushed, pushing his hair back from his face.
They shared an elevator upstairs, Francisco still wobbling and speaking in a mix of English and Spanish against Jonathan's shoulder. Jonathan was shaking his head and smiling. Jared was very quiet, standing facing the doors. Colin watched Eamon's hand as it caressed Jared's hip, possessive, marking his claim for the night. When they stepped off the elevator, it was time to decide where everyone was going.
“I'll see you all tomorrow,” Colin said, making the decision easy. Without looking back he stumbled toward his room. It took several tries to swipe the keycard properly, but he finally got it.
Once inside, he didn't bother to turn on a light. He just started pacing back and forth beside the bed, running his fingers through his hair. He fought the urge for several long, buzzing moments that were made sharper by his drunkenness, and then he gave in and started kicking, throwing, and trashing everything around him. His clothes and suitcase hit the floor, as did everything on the vanity, the table, and the bedside stand. Finally he collapsed on the bed crossways, trembling and trying to block out images of Jared and Eamon tangled together on Jared's bed. Jared's bed where he had spent yesterday morning.
He's not your boyfriend, his mind slurred at him. It's absolutely fucking stupid to even be bothered by this. Don't begrudge your brother a good time just because you suddenly have an inferiority complex.
He prayed to just pass out, and maybe tomorrow when he woke up this would all be a whisky-induced dream.
He was on the edge of fuzzy sleep when there was a knock at the door. At first he thought he was dreaming, but when it came again he lifted his head. “Just a minnit.” He mumbled.
He stumbled to the door and opened it, his mind screaming Jared! Dammit, why did he have to go and fuck up the room? Jared would surely get a laugh out of that, never mind ever letting him live it down.
It wasn't Jared though, it was Francisco.
“Shh,” Francisco giggled, pressing a finger to his lips. He was wobbling, a keycard in his hand. He whispered. “Can I come in?”
Colin stared at him a moment, then stepped back to let him in. If he'd been sober, he would have thought before he acted.
“Whoa!” Francisco giggled, stumbling in the dark. “What happened in here?”
“Shitty maid service.” Colin went over to him, trying to balance him, though it was the drunk propping up the drunk. “Where's Jonathan?”
“Sleeping,” Francisco was still giggling. He turned to Colin, slipping his arms around his neck. “He fell asleep.”
“If he wakes up he's going to wonder where you are.” Colin could feel his breath on his face, what he could feel at all. He was wobbling too, holding on to Francisco's waist.
“It's all right. I'll go back soon.” He lurched toward Colin, and their lips met in a sloppy kiss.
“Oh fuck,” Colin whispered against them. “Francisco, what about Jonathan?”
“Told you, he's sleeping.”
That wasn't what Colin had meant, but he found himself strangely unable to resist or even really wanting to as Francisco pulled him toward the bed. He was hurting, Francisco understood, and that was all his whisky-saturated brain cared about at the moment.
He wished he could feel more, that he was less numb, because he was sure Francisco's lips against his were very nice—he seemed to recall that. He was sure Francisco's hands on him and his legs wrapped around his waist were equally wonderful. Francisco was whispering, the sort of heated, intense confessions that came out when one was incredibly loaded.
“I've wanted to fuck you since the first day I met you,” Francisco said. He was clumsily trying to remove Colin's shirt. “I love Jonathan, I do. But I've wanted you for so long.”
Colin was kissing his neck, his mouth, his face. He pulled Francisco's shirt off too. It was all a very nice gesture, but Colin was not entirely sure he could get it up in the state he was in.
“You're going to regret this in the morning,” Colin warned.
“I know. So fuck me and give me something to regret.” Francisco was kissing him again, then whispering in his ear, something in Spanish that sounded incredibly scintillating. He was undoing Colin's pants.
Colin thought he heard a sound, but it didn't register in his scattered mind. He was undoing Francisco's pants when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Both of Francisco's hands were in Colin's underwear, fondling his semi-hard cock, so it wasn't one of his. It was a delayed reaction, but Colin yelped in surprise, looking up.
He was quite sure the silhouette against the light from the window was Jared's.
“How did you get in here!” Colin leapt away from Francisco, who sat up as well, giving a surprised gasp.
“You drunk bastards left the door open!” Jared's voice sounded venomous. “Francisco, get up and go back to your room, before Jonathan finds you here.”
Francisco just sat there a moment, apparently as unable to react as Colin was. “Now!” Jared said sharply.
Francisco got up, finding his shirt and the keycard, then stumbled toward the door. “Bye Colin.” He said softly, before slipping out into the hallway.
“Bye,” Colin called after him. Jared followed him and shut the door behind him. He then came over and switched on the bedside lamp. Colin winced in the light.
“My brother must have finished quick,” Colin said, shielding his eyes with his hand.
Off guard and half blind, he wasn't ready for Jared's volley of punches, which swiftly rained down on his head and chest. Colin shielded himself with his arms, trying to get away. “Hey!”
“You fucker!” Jared's voice was strained. He gave Colin a few more good punches that we're going to hurt in the morning. “I didn't sleep with your brother!”
The punches stopped, and Colin ventured an uneasy glance up at him, feeling nearly sober now. Jared was seething, his teeth clenched, eyes blazing.
“You didn't sleep with him? Then what the fuck was all that tonight! At the bar! In the car!”
“I was trying to be polite, since you couldn't see fit to call him the fuck off!”
“It's not my job to tell him no!” Colin rose to his knees, lowering his arms. “You got a fucking mouth, use it! It wasn't me he was humping on that fucking dance floor!”
“He's your brother, Colin! I was in a hell of a spot! Especially after that fucking speech at dinner, about how he was your precious brother and you wouldn't put anyone else above him!”
“I am not your fucking knight in shining armor!” Colin struggled off the bed, head still spinning but his thoughts thankfully starting to focus. “If you think I'm going to come running to your rescue like some lovesick fool, you better fucking reconsider things. Because that's not me and that's not us!”
Jared was glaring at him, breathing hard. Colin wondered where his fucking cigarettes were. Nicotine might clear his head the rest of the way.
“Oh, so what's this?” Jared motioned around at the mess. His voice sounded choked. “And what's with Francisco? Trying to spite me?”
“He came to me!” Colin pointed at him, wobbling. “He came to my fucking door!”
“You sure didn't turn him away.”
“Now who's the jealous asshole? We're not married!” He said in a mocking voice. “Your words.”
“We may not be married, but at least I have some fucking tact!”
“Oh yes!” Colin waved his arm. “Fucking tact. That's why you didn't bother to tell my brother to fuck off when he had his hands all over you!”
Jared turned and went toward the door.
“Do you think he's me with all the attributes you long for?” Colin yelled after him. Jared stopped at the door and looked back at him. “Do you think he's me, and he'll be your boyfriend, and hold your hand, and show you off in public like you want me to? Is that what you think?” Colin's voice had become mocking again. “You're gonna be surprised, because he might be my brother, but he's not me.”
Jared was quiet a moment, glaring at him. Even with the haze over his vision, Colin could see the brightness in his eyes, threatening to overflow. “I know he's not you,” Jared said lowly. He opened the door. “That's why I didn't sleep with him.”
He was gone then, the door slamming shut behind him. Colin was left standing alone in the ringing silence, surrounded by the mess he'd made—in his room, and in his life.
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