The Trouble With Brothers
Note: It's important to know the lyrics to 30 Seconds to Mars' song 'From Yesterday' for this!
“Aren't you upset because Jared's brother is coming?”
Colin and Eamon were sitting in the hotel restaurant having breakfast. Next to Colin was one of the local entertainment rags, on page two of which was a picture of Colin coming out of the doors of the hotel, shoulders hunched, lighting a cigarette. He had been discovered. “Why would I would be upset because Shannon is coming?”
“Well you've only got a month left with Jared. Do you really want to spare a week of it to his brother?”
Colin was studying the paper. It was a bad picture—he hated how those fucking extensions made him look, like he was something out of an 80's rock band. Beneath the picture, it said ‘Colin Farrell spotted in London's East End, working on Oliver Stone's new epic.' The effects of it had already begun, as there were people with cameras and fans milling around out on the sidewalk at all hours of the day and night now. They were certainly back in civilization. Colin thought fondly of the boy in the Bangkok bar who hadn't even recognized him.
“It's not like he's leaving,” Colin folded up the paper and went back to his coffee and eggs. “And it's not like we won't be hanging out still.”
“But his brother will be there, all the time.” Eamon gave him a meaningful look, eyebrows raised. Colin hated it when he looked at him like that. It reminded him of his father.
“You're there. All the time.” Colin took a sip of his coffee.
“Yes, but I know about you. You're going to regret it if you waste one minute with him.”
“Listen,” Colin sat his cup down sharply. “You've never meddled in my relationships before. Why are you doing it now?”
“You've never been with a guy before. I figure it's my area of expertise.”
“I'm gonna tell you this one time.” Colin lifted his hands, elbows on the table. He was cranky from the picture, from Oliver's early mornings, and from all this never-ending talk when he was with Eamon. “He is not my boyfriend, we're not having a love affair, and we sure as hell aren't making wedding plans. So back off, and stop trying to give me advice.”
“This is just like you,” Eamon said testily. “Of course you have to go down fighting. You don't even know what you have. You'd rather piss it all away for your fucking image.”
“This is not about my fucking image!” Colin's voice was rising, a few of the other diners glancing over at them. “This is about people needing to mind their own goddamn business.”
Eamon lowered his voice, leaning across the table toward Colin. “If someone doesn't step in you're just going to fuck it up. Do you know how many people would kill for a guy like Jared in their lives?”
“I know of at least one in this fucking room, that's for sure.” Colin took a swift drink of his coffee and snatched up his paper.
“Oh yes, let's turn this around so it's on me!” Eamon's voice rose again, stopping Colin from getting up. “Let's completely forget about you sobbing like a fucking baby on my shoulder in Bangkok.”
“I'm not like you!” Colin snapped back at him. People were looking their way now and Colin lowered his voice to a furious whisper. “I'm not like you.”
“Not ‘like me?'” Eamon's upper lip curled, which was exactly like their father too. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean I can't go showing it off to the world and not giving a fuck. The way you do. The way Jared does!” He got to his feet and pushed the chair in roughly. “Maybe the two of you should get together.”
“I would be glad to. He deserves someone who'll treat him right. But he obviously fucking loves you, so there's no accounting for taste!”
Colin stalked off before he could say another word, and so people would quit staring at them. He went out to the lobby and tried to calm down, clenching the paper so tightly he heard it crinkle and rip. He reasoned that this was why he should have kept it from absolutely everyone. He didn't mind giving Jared what he wanted, he just didn't need outside involvement.
In the red-carpeted hallway lined with mirrors where the elevators were, Colin suddenly ran into Francisco. They both stopped, staring at each other, neither having a quick and valid means of escape.
Francisco was dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater with a trim black coat over it, a duffel bag over his shoulder, and aside from the distinctly uncomfortable look on his face, he was as composed and elegant as ever.
“Colin,” he finally said with a high-pitched, quavering laugh. “Just on my way to the studio.”
“Yeah,” Colin twisted the paper in his hands. They were standing at a rather awkward distance from each other, and Colin went toward him slowly. “I gotta head there in about an hour. Just waiting for Jared to get back.”
Francisco nodded, his gaze flicking to the carpet. He fidgeted nervously with the strap of his bag. “Well, I suppose I should go.”
“Francisco.” Colin took another step closer, and Francisco lifted his gaze, locking eyes with him hesitantly. Colin tried to find the right words. “I just want you to know, I'm not pissed off at you about what happened. It was just as much my fault.”
Francisco shifted, pushing his bag up on his shoulder and looking down at the carpet again. “I…” he hesitated, then looked up. “I don't blame you. It was a stupid thing for me to do. I was just…well, acting with my cock and not my brain.”
Colin almost laughed at the sound of such an uncouth word coming out of his mouth, but the gravity of the moment didn't let him.
“It was my fault, for trying to throw myself at you in the bathroom that night,” Colin said.
Francisco gave a soft laugh. “You tried to kiss me. That's hardly throwing yourself.”
“Yes, but it gave you the wrong idea. I was just pissed off and acting like a child.” Colin looked down at his hands, down at the paper he was still twisting in them.
“Well, it's clear neither one of us is going to let the other blame himself.” Francisco shifted again, and Colin looked up at him. “I hope you and Jared are working things out.” He gave Colin a little smile.
“It would require a novel to give you the answer to that,” Colin sighed. “What about you and Jonathan? Does he…does he know?”
Francisco looked down, and Colin saw the tension in his jaw. He looked up again, his gaze having a forced steadiness to it. “We broke up.”
“What?” Colin stared at him in surprise. “When?”
“Just before we came to London,” Francisco gave a little nod, as if he had to assure himself it was true. “I broke it off with him. I just…I can't get involved with people I'm working with anymore.” There was a strange light in his eyes, something sad and oddly distant.
Colin wasn't sure what to say. He frowned, brow furrowing, trying to understand. “But we saw you at the party.”
“That night,” Francisco gave him a tight little smile. “It's for the best, really.”
Colin didn't believe him, but neither did he know what to say or how to help. He fidgeted with the paper, and Francisco reached over, patting the back of his hand. His skin was soft, but cold. “You're a good man, Colin. You're a little confused, but you're a good man. It's all right. Life is confusing…but good. You'll see.” His smile was so sad Colin wondered how anyone could have such a conflicting expression.
“You've been a good friend to me.” Colin looked into his eyes. He turned his hand over and squeezed Francisco's. “No nagging or judging, just straightforward advice. I don't want us to stop being friends. Can we quit being weird around each other?”
“We can try,” Francisco drew his hand away, wincing slightly as if Colin's touch pained him. “I'm sorry for what I did.”
“No, don't be.” Colin said softly. “No one can help what they feel.” They were words he needed to take into himself, but it was much easier to give them to someone else.
“No, I don't suppose they can,” Francisco's lips were a tight line. That light was still in his eyes, as if he had come to some wall and was now contemplating ways to climb over it.
“I can't believe you and Jonathan broke up,” Colin shook his head. “God, you guys were…”
“Please,” Francisco held up his hand. He looked deeply wounded behind those dark eyes. “I don't want to talk about it.” He said softly.
“All right,” Colin nodded. “Still, I'm sorry.”
“I really do have to get to the studio.”
“All right.” Colin forced a smile. “I guess I'll see you in a little while then. I'm glad we finally talked. Pretty stupid of us, huh?”
“Yes.” Francisco gave him a little smile in return, then started off down the hallway. Colin watched him go, feeling both a sense of relief and like he had just been kicked in the stomach. He was also a little worried about him.
Colin went upstairs to wait for Jared, thinking about Francisco's words, thinking about Eamon's. He wanted a cigarette, but he'd smoke it out the window in his room. He didn't want to go outside and face the fans and photographers right now.
****
Jared opened the door almost as soon as Colin knocked. He still had his coat on and the crisp air of the outdoors clung to him. “We just got in,” Jared opened the door wider for him. “I'll be ready in a few.” Colin stepped in, checking his watch.
“No need to hurry, we got time.”
“I didn't think we were going to get back here before the time I told you to come get me,” he sounded a little out of breath. “Fucking airports. Something's always delayed.”
Jared's illness had thankfully passed quickly, and since no one else came down with it they decided it had to be the food. His usual vital glow was back, as well as his sharp tongue.
“Don't just stand there like an idiot, come in and meet my brother!”
Colin walked down the short hallway from the entryway to the main part of the room. A man, roughly Jared's height with short dark hair, was standing by the bed. He looked like Jared—the same eyes, though not quite as wide and not blue, a similar mouth and nose, but with sloping eyebrows and more angular features. He was dressed all in black, black jeans and a t-shirt, a wallet chain dangling on his hip. He was rooting through an open suitcase on the bed.
“Shannon, this is Colin Farrell,” Jared said, working his coat off. He dropped it in a chair. “Colin, my brother Shannon.”
They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, man.” Shannon said.
“Likewise,” Colin said. There were two guitar cases sitting on the floor next to the bed, as well as a duffel bag and a travel bag.
“Shannon's gonna stay in my room, save some cash.” Jared breezed into the bathroom. “You won't tell anyone, will you?” His voice drifted back out, echoing on tile.
“Yeah, I'm gonna run right down to the front desk and tell them.”
Shannon smirked at Colin. He had Jared's smile.
“I figure I can crash on the sofa out there, he can have the bed,” Jared's voice came out of the bathroom again.
“I'll sleep on the sofa,” Shannon said back.
“Fuck you will. You're sleeping on the bed, so shut the fuck up.”
Shannon shook his head and smirked at Colin again. “I feel for you, having to put up with that shit all day.”
Colin sat down on the end of the bed. “I'm good at tuning people out.”
“I know you're talking about me out there!” Jared called.
Shannon accompanied them to the studio, as did Eamon. They all went in the same car, and Colin was dreading what Eamon might say to Shannon. It appeared Eamon was saying nothing to Colin.
“So you guys have a band?” Eamon had been polite and charming thus far, but Colin had seen him scrutinizing Shannon in that subtle way he had when they all met outside. “What's it called again?”
“30 Seconds to Mars,” Jared said. He was sitting in the back with Shannon on one side and Eamon on the other. Colin was sitting up front with the driver, staring out the window and feeling detached from everything.
“Interesting,” Eamon said. “What's it mean?”
“It was Jared's idea,” Shannon said with a snort. “He wanted something ‘lyrical and atmospheric.' Isn't that what you said?”
“It is lyrical and atmospheric,” Jared said defensively. “It doesn't really have anything to do with space. It's just cinematic, it has a sense of otherness to it. Like an old Hollywood science fiction movie.”
“Plus I think he was stoned,” Shannon's words dissolved into chuckles, then there was the sound of slaps and Shannon laughing and yelling, “Ow! Fucker!”
Colin shook his head. Apparently the Leto attitude was genetic.
“What kind of music do you play?” Eamon asked, chuckling as well. He was sitting right behind Colin and Colin could see his profile in his mirror.
“Kind of a mixture of nu-metal and new wave,” Jared answered. “We're going for a distinct sound. Something that grabs you in the gut.”
“I'd love to hear you play sometime,” Eamon said. “I love music, of all kinds.”
“They're good,” Colin interjected. He wasn't sure why, he just felt the need. “I went and saw them before we started shooting.”
“Aww,” Jared leaned over the seat. “Our biggest fan.” He gave Colin a sharp pat on the cheek. Colin scowled and pushed his hand away. “Christ, what's up your ass today?”
“Nothing,” he looked back out the window.
Shooting was hard that day, as nothing went right and everyone seemed to be in a bad mood—except Jared, who kept trying to cheer Colin up or at least rile him with near constant poking and teasing. Francisco was quiet and withdrawn. Colin wanted to tell Jared about Francisco and Jonathan, but there never seemed to be a right time. Jonathan was there, and kept a good distance from Francisco, not speaking to anyone unless he had to. Colin figured Jared would notice eventually and bring it up himself.
Shannon and Eamon sat on the sidelines, chatting and seemingly having a very good time, as they were constantly laughing about something. Colin noticed that Eamon wasn't on the prowl though, just being more or less friendly, so Shannon must not have passed his inspection—or else he was trying to be extra subtle so as to take him by surprise.
“So how come you and Eamon aren't talking?” Jared asked as they were waiting for the lighting crew to adjust a few things.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why are you not talking? You know, saying things to each other? With words?”
“It's a long story. We're fine.”
Jared eyed him for a moment. “It's a good thing Alexander was Pharaoh of Egypt. Because you certainly are the King of Denial.”
“People!” Oliver shouted before Colin could shoot back a smart remark. “How about we try to act in this shot? Wouldn't that be nice? It'll save us all from having to be here all night!”
It did seem like they were there all night, and by the time they drove back to the hotel, Colin was starving and grouchier than ever. He sat in the backseat with Jared and Shannon, Eamon in the front seat this time.
“Colin,” Shannon leaned forward, looking around Jared who was in the middle. “Eamon says you've been to Japan.”
“Yeah,” Colin gave a tired chuckle. “I have actually. Beautiful country.”
“My girlfriend's mother is from there,” Shannon grinned. Colin glanced up at Eamon when he said ‘girlfriend.' That was why he wasn't zeroing in.
“Which girlfriend?” Jared asked. “Last time I talked to you, you were dating that chick from that skanky band. What the hell were they called again? Confusion?”
“Cold Fusion,” Shannon said icily. “And I never dated her. We went out a couple of times. No man, I'm talking about Aiko. The one that works at the Roadhouse.”
“The one that smells like onion rings?” Jared narrowed his eyes.
“She works at the Roadhouse! You used to smell like shit when you were washing dishes for a living too, cock sucker.”
Colin bit his tongue and looked out the window, trying desperately not to laugh. Jared gave a great sigh. “Well, if she makes you happy, little Shannon.”
“Fuck off.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, then Jared looked over at Colin and smiled. “Colin's been to a lot of places. He's been everywhere, especially after this movie.”
“Pretty much,” Colin agreed.
“He's got a map of the world on his face.” Jared frowned thoughtfully after he said it, then looked at Shannon. “Hey, that'd make a great lyric.”
“It would.” Shannon agreed. “I'll write it down when we get back.”
They rushed inside past the photographers and had a late dinner before heading upstairs. Eamon and Shannon carried most of the conversation during the meal, as Colin and Jared were both exhausted. After Eamon left and they went up to their rooms, Jared paused outside his door after letting Shannon in. “Hey,” he whispered.
Colin stopped, having turned to go down to his room, and looked back. Jared glanced into the room, then hurried over to Colin. “What?” Colin murmured.
“Goodnight, stupid.” He reached up and grabbed the back of Colin's head, pulling his face to his. They shared a brief, firm kiss, then Jared drew back. “Come by in the morning. We'll all hang out, since we don't have to shoot until the afternoon.”
“All right,” Colin said softly, giving him a little smile. Jared grinned and hurried back to his door.
It was strange sleeping alone, since the past few nights he'd either stayed in Jared's room or he in his. He was too worn out to dwell on it though, and fell asleep quickly.
In the morning, after smoking a cigarette out the window and pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, he went back to Jared's room. Jared was in a pair of sweats and Shannon in boxers and a t-shirt, propped up on the sofa. It seemed Jared had lost the fight.
Most of that day the brothers spent writing songs and composing tunes on their guitars. Colin sprawled on the sofa while they occupied the bed, papers and notebooks spread all over it. Colin listened to them and watched the television, occasionally giving them feedback or advice as they requested it. They ordered room service for both breakfast and lunch.
Around two, Eamon showed up. “There you are!” He peeked in around Jared at Colin. “Thought I might find you here.”
“Come on in,” Jared said. He was yet to dress, his hair back in a ponytail. “We're just jamming.”
Eamon entered and Colin drew his feet up so he could sit on the sofa with him. Shannon lost interest in the music and started talking about all the things he wanted to see while he was there.
“It sucks I have to work so much,” Jared said. He was lying crossways on the bed, writing in a notebook. “There's so much stuff to see.”
“I can take him,” Eamon shrugged. “You guys gotta go to the studio here shortly, don't you? Why don't I take him around, we'll go see the Tower of London and stuff nearby, then meet you guys somewhere for dinner. I mean, I know London.”
Colin glanced suspiciously at him from the corner of his eye. Shannon shrugged and looked at Jared. “Fine by me. I'd like to see some stuff.”
“Go ahead,” Jared was still writing. “If Eamon doesn't mind.”
“It'll be my pleasure.”
Shannon wanted a shower before they went. While he was in the bathroom Jared read off some of his lyrics, which he'd been doing all day, getting Colin's opinion.
“On his face is a map of the world…yeah, that sounds right.” He grinned at Colin. “What do you think?”
“I think it sounds just like him,” Eamon gave Colin a look.
“I like it,” Colin looked back at him.
While they waited Colin hung out the window, not for the first time that day, and smoked a cigarette. Jared joined him, squeezing in beside him, bare torso hanging out the window and shivering in the wind. He plucked Colin's cigarette from his fingers and stole a drag.
“I thought you only smoked after sex!” Eamon called from in the room.
Jared smirked and looked over his shoulder, blowing the smoke out. It was quickly caught on the wind and whisked away. “Who says I haven't had it?”
“With your brother here?”
“He held the camera.”
When Shannon was ready he and Eamon left, after making arrangements to meet them at a restaurant down the street that night around seven. When they were gone, Jared sat down on the bed. “Alone at last,” he sighed.
“Yeah, and we gotta get ready to go too.” Colin tried to walk past him, but Jared caught him by the belt loops, dragging him back and looking up at him knowingly.
“Come on, it's the first time we've been alone since yesterday morning.”
Colin decided not to resist, mostly because he was thinking the same thing. He crawled on the bed with Jared, over top of him, kissing him deeply, fully, as if trying to consume his mouth. Jared gripped his hair and made the kiss harder. Colin laughed in his head at Eamon. Losing him for a week, indeed.
After making out for a few minutes, Jared pushed him over and climbed on top of him, smiling deviously. He was sucking at his lower lip, a few strands of hair having escaped his ponytail and hanging around his face. “You wanna?”
Colin glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. “Actually yes. But do we have time?” His cock was starting to push against his jeans, up against the softness of Jared's ass.
“Quickie,” Jared grinned wider. “Come on, get those pants off.”
They were both snickering and flailing around while they got their clothes off. Colin couldn't get his legs untangled from his jeans and Jared didn't seem to care. He got on top of him while they were still around his ankles, their cocks brushing together. “Ooh,” Jared gave a breathy sigh. He worked his hips, rubbing them together more firmly. “That's nice.”
“Yeah,” Colin arched his hips a bit, looking down, watching. Jared's cock was fully hard, smearing wetness along Colin's shaft, which made him harden fully as well. “We need some lube,” Colin said.
“Ah, fuck,” Jared looked around the room. “I don't remember where I stuck it. Didn't want Shannon finding it and razzing me.”
“Spit?” Colin licked his hand. “Nature's own brand.” He spat in his hand, then smeared it along the length of his cock.
“Uncouth bastard.”
Jared seemed to have no reservations about taking it that way, though. He winced as he sank down slowly, Colin gripping the base, guiding it, Jared leaning forward and trapping his arm between them. “Ow,” he said, making Colin pause. “No, go on. I'll get used to it.”
Once Colin was inside, where everything was delightfully tight and hot, things were much easier. Jared rocked his hips against him, adjusting to it, his eyelids fluttering. “Yes,” he whispered, his fingers flexing on Colin's shoulders. Colin glanced at the clock again.
“Gotta make this fast,” he whispered breathily.
“Won't be a problem.”
Jared rode him with sharp thrusts of his hips, beautiful above him, his fingers exploring Colin's chest and stomach, tugging at his nipples now and then with a playful, sultry smile. Colin stroked him, thrusting up a little but letting Jared do most of the work so he didn't hurt him. He liked Jared being on top—it let Colin focus on him, watch him more. He never failed to put on a good show. He paused once to tug the tie out of his hair and let it free, shaking it out over his shoulders.
“Gonna come soon?” Jared murmured. He was watching Colin with heavy-lidded, darkened eyes. “Gonna come inside me? Fill my ass?”
“Yes,” Colin breathed. “God, keep moving like that. Just like that.” Jared had found just the rhythm with his hips, a slow, agonizing up and down movement that took him fully with each stroke.
When Colin heard the click, he thought at first it was some sound the bed made, being rocked beneath them. Less than a breath later, he realized it was the doorknob as Shannon appeared around the wall from the short hallway.
“Holy shit!” The look of shock on his face mirrored the feeling in Colin's chest.
Jared stopped short, whipping his head around. Colin, panicked, tried to push him off. “Fuck!”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Shannon backed up, covering his eyes. “I forgot my gloves! I'll just buy some in the gift shop!” He rushed back the hallway to the door.
“Shannon!” Jared pulled himself off Colin, which wasn't that hard, since Colin had gone almost immediately limp. Jared crawled across the bed and scrambled off it, but the door was already slamming shut.
“Fuck!” Colin sat up, yanking at his pants. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
“Just don't fucking panic, all right?” Jared was pushing his hair away from his face. “It's not the first time he's caught me fucking a guy.” He grabbed his sweats from the end of the bed and started pulling them on. “Well, I was giving a blowjob, but it's the same idea.”
“Oh, that's so fucking reassuring!” Colin pushed himself off the bed, yanking up his jeans. ‘Mortified' didn't even begin to cover it. Anger was rushing in to cover his embarrassment, creating an emotional sludge in his stomach that shorted all the connections to his brain and therefore eradicated rational thought.
“Where are you going?” Jared asked as Colin rushed past him toward the door, pulling his shirt on. “Colin, don't you walk out of this room!”
Colin paused with his hand on the doorknob. He was shaking. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because you won't come back this time,” Jared sounded desperate. “We'll smooth this over, all right? Just don't fucking go out of your mind and act like an idiot. Don't ruin everything.”
Colin opened the door. He needed to go find somewhere to curl up in a ball for a few minutes and let the shock pass. “I just…I fucking need to get out of here. I'll come back. I promise.”
“Colin! I'll go talk to him right now! Just fucking stay here!” Jared sounded wounded and angry, but Colin didn't have the presence of mind to deal with it right now.
“I'm sorry. I'll come back.”
He left the room, head spinning, unable to listen to reason at the moment. All he could think about was the look on Shannon's face, and how his whole secret little world had just come crashing down. So much for his nice comfortable box. It had just been burned and kicked down a hill.
main page back next
No comments:
Post a Comment