Hot Like Me

Part X: "Smarter Than He Looks"


"I didn't mean it, Trey," the younger man whispered. He felt lips touching his ear, warm and moist, the smell of stale Scotch wafting to his nose.

"I want you," Trey breathed into Harley's ear. "I am so drunk Harley, and I'm so sorry that's the only thing giving me the courage to tell you how I feel. I want you, baby brother. I love you, I want you, and I need you, so badly. I can't breathe without you..."

Tears stung at Harley's bloodshot eyes. He had never stopped loving Trey, wanting him and needing him, and he'd not been the one paralyzed by guilt in the first place. For reasons even he wasn't sure of, Harley had been able to easily dispense with the guilt and the fear very early on, shockingly soon after their relationship had changed into something decidedly un-brotherly.

Harley tilted his head, brushing his cheek against the strong hand still softly stroking his collarbone. A tear ran down his face and dripped onto the back of his brother's hand, warm and wet.

"I want you too," Harley spoke softly. "I love you, big brother."

Trey's chin came to rest heavily on Harley's shoulder. "And therein lies the problem," he said with a shuddering, shaky breath. "You're my brother. I just can't get past how wrong that is, to feel this way about you."

Harley turned to face his brother, taking the older man's face in his hands. Tears streaked his face, and he tried his hardest to smile through them. "How many times am I going to have to explain this to you?" he asked rhetorically. "I don't give a shit how wrong anybody thinks this is. I want you. I need you. I love you. So what if I just happen to be your brother? That was an accident, Trey, a biological freak of nature that we ended up being related, some sort of fucking heartless, cosmic soul-mate joke. I can't explain it, and I can't even begin to rationalize it to anyone else's satisfaction, not even yours. All I know is that I love you, I need you, and I want you. Nothing else matters to me, Trey, nothing. Not even the fact that you are my brother."

"I don't want to hurt you," Trey said tearfully.

"You're not hurting me!" Harley rasped. "Why can't you get that through your fucking thick skull? I'm a grown man Trey, and I'm a hell of a lot brighter than people give me credit for. I don't make decisions lightly. Just ask my agent."

Trey smiled, a small chuckle escaping him despite the gravity of the moment. He knew full well the shit that Harley put his agent through, being as particular as he was regarding the roles he accepted. The boy could be starring in four or five films a year if he weren't so goddamn picky.

"You're not hurting me, " Harley repeated, his voice calm and soothing. "I know exactly what I'm doing." He sighed, wrapping his arms around his older brother's waist before continuing. "I know you're afraid, Trey. You're afraid of what would happen if anyone found out. The difference between you and me is that I don't fucking care. God, I sound like a fucking broken record…"

"Okay," Trey said, suddenly quite sober. "Let's be hypothetical here. What if, suddenly, this all went public? How would you handle that, all the media reports that you're having an incestuous relationship with your brother?"

Harley smirked. "Who cares? If I ended up blacklisted it wouldn't matter anyway. I've made enough money already to live very comfortably for the rest of my life. And knowing Hollywood, it would probably get me more offers. You know how those folks love a scandal. Shit... Woody Allen and Roman Polanski would probably be beating down the door to hire me once the word got out."

Trey laughed out loud. He paused and smiled at his brother. "Why is that you can always make me laugh when I'm feeling my worst?"

Harley didn't hesitate a second before responding. "Because you know, deep in your heart, that I love you. More than anyone ever has, or ever will love you."

"What if Mom and Dad and the girls found out?"

Trey's question hit Harley hard, blind-siding him like a barroom brawl sucker punch. It reeled him for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

Harley responded by asking his own question. "If we had done something awful, Trey, something really, really terrible, like robbing a bank, or stealing a car, or dealing drugs, or even killing somebody - do you think that Mom or Dad or our sisters would turn away from us, not support us, not love us anymore?"

If there was one thing that Trey knew in his heart, something that was unbreakable and unshakable, it was their parents' unconditional love for their children, for all of them, no matter what. The same went for their three sisters, and the close bond they had as a family. He'd just never thought of it in those terms before. He hadn't really needed to, until now.

"No," Trey shook his head softly, " no, they wouldn't turn away. It might be hard on them, and very disappointing. But they'd still love us, regardless. I know that."

"Then why would this be any different?"

Trey couldn't think of a good reason why it would. He lowered his eyes, staring at the tile floor as he shook his head, acquiescing to his brother's logic. "It wouldn't. They'd be shocked, probably hurt, but in the end they'd all still love us. They wouldn't abandon us for anything."

"Is there anyone else, besides Mom and Dad and the girls, who you care enough about to even give a damn what they think?"

Again, Trey couldn't think of an argumentative response. Still staring at the floor, he shook his head again. "No. No one."

"I rest my case." Harley reached out his hand, placing his fingers softly under Trey's chin. He tilted his brother's head up, gently, pulling the older man's gaze from the cold, tile floor to his own warm, blue eyes.

Trey smiled. "I thought I was supposed to be the brains behind the operation."

Harley smiled, that bright, patented movie star smile of his. "That's just movie business. This is real life. And I'm not nearly as stupid as I lead people to believe."

"Pretty beats smart, any day of the week, right?"

Trey's little brother grinned with enough wattage to light up the Hollywood sign on a dark, foggy night. "You bet your sweet ass it does."


~~~~

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© Copyright 2006 Justin Tyler. All rights reserved. Publication or distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Justin Tyler.
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