Marry Me, G. Hauser [ereader for textbooks .txt] 📗

Scott?”

Braxton poured all natural acacia berry juice into the glasses

with the vodka and put away both the booze and juice bottles so

nothing was left on the counter. He held Fabian’s glass and

sipped his.

“We’ll be right down.” Fabian met Braxton’s eyes. “Okay.

Thanks.” He hung up the phone and took the glass from Braxton.

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Yes. You can tell from his voice?”

Fabian tossed the entire glass of vodka and juice down his

throat and raised one eyebrow at Braxton in reply.

Since Scott was waiting, Braxton did the same, taking the

empty glasses and putting them into the dishwasher. “Are we

ready for our public appearance as the top of a gay wedding

cake, Mr Rhys?”

“I am if you are.” Fabian held his hand and squeezed it.

Braxton kissed his knuckles quickly, then began shutting

lights and checking his phone for messages. Right before he

opened his unit door to leave, he asked, “Do I look like I was the

victim of a knife fight?”

“Huh?”

Braxton pointed to his chin.

“You do realize it’s the size of a pinhead, right?”

“To me it’s as if I took a cleaver to my face.” He gestured for

Fabian to leave first, then double-locked his door, pocketing his

key.

“What am I going to do with you?” Fabian squeezed

Braxton’s ass as they headed to the elevator.

“Take care of me tonight. I’m planning on getting drunk on

my ass.”

“Deal.”

~

Fabian exited the elevator and lobby to see a stretch

limousine and a stud wearing a chauffeur’s uniform, including a

cap, leaning against it, waiting. The man looked more like a

strip-o-gram than a real driver.

You fucked that?

“Scott, this is my…” Braxton thumbed over his shoulder to

Fabian and seemed to stumble on a word.

Trying to ease Braxton’s anxiety, Fabian said, “Friend,” and

extended his hand.

“Fuck that!” Braxton leapt on Fabian and kissed him, nearly

knocking Fabian off his feet. When he ended the kiss Braxton

said to Scott, “He ain’t my fucking friend.”

Scott laughed and opened the back door. “One with

benefits?”

“No. He’s my…” Braxton coughed and rubbed his forehead.

“My boyfriend!” he yelled as if he were battling internal demons

again and then climbed into the car.

Fabian smiled at Scott. “That took a momentous effort.”

“Believe me, I know. I’ve known Braxton for a long time.

Good job on getting him this far.”

“Thanks.” Fabian entered the back of the limousine and

Braxton was slouched on the seat, pouring scotch into a shot

glass.

Fabian sat against him and smiled. “Bravo. That was nice.”

Braxton shot the liquor down and asked, “You want one?”

“Not yet. Let me at least see what the hell this affair is like

before I get inebriated and act like an ass.”

“That’s me. An ass. They expect it.” He poured another as

Scott began to drive them onto the main street.

“Hey, Scott,” Fabian called to the man behind the wheel. “Is

he usually this hard on himself?”

Braxton elbowed Fabian to be quiet.

“Yes. Sorry, man. He’s got…issues.” Scott laughed.

“That’s rich coming from you, Baldwin.” Braxton downed

the second shot and replaced the bottle into the small cabinet.

“Baldwin?”

“Not that Baldwin,” Braxton said and slumped low in the

seat.

Fabian put the privacy divider up and turned to face Braxton,

cupping Braxton’s crotch. “What is it about these events makes

you crazy?”

“Everything.”

“The worst part? One thing?”

Braxton ran his hand through his hair as if it was in his face

and driving him crazy. “Being alone and getting hit on by a pack

of morons.”

“Well. You’re not alone now.”

Braxton turned to face him and his eyes were glossy and sad.

He cupped Fabian’s jaw and kissed him, slowly pushing Fabian

back on the bench seat and lying on top of him.

Fabian relaxed as Braxton got the reassurance he was

possibly looking for. What did Braxton expect him to do? Run

off with a celebrity and leave him to go home alone?

After a long moment of kissing, Braxton rested on Fabian,

closing his eyes. Fabian petted Braxton’s hair, trying to relax

him, hoping the booze would do the same for him.

A knock of a knuckle sounded at the privacy divider. Braxton

sat up and straightened his jacket, lowering the divider.

“About there, Brax.”

“Thanks, Scott.”

Fabian noticed Scott trying to see them in the rear view

mirror. No we weren’t fucking.

As Braxton checked his appearance in a drop down mirror,

Fabian wondered about this whole celebrity lifestyle. The

pressure was already heavy, and he wasn’t even famous.

Braxton, however, was.

The car stopped and even through the closed windows and

doors Fabian could hear the loud chatter of people right outside.

Scott opened the back door for them and Braxton exited first,

waiting for Fabian.

Fabian climbed out to view a huge mob outside the restaurant

where the pre-gala function was being held. Ropes, security

guards, LAPD cops, and paparazzi with cameras flashing

overwhelmed Fabian.

There were screams from women of Braxton’s name and

people waving paper as if they wanted his autograph. Cell

phones and digital cameras were pointed at the men as they were

guarded on both sides and escorted into the fancy venue.

Once inside, it felt safe and serene, until they entered the

room holding the reception. The large restaurant catering hall

was decorated with posters for the film, and the scent of food hit

Fabian, making his stomach growl.

The second Braxton was noticed, he was greeted and

approached by many people who offered a hug or an enthusiastic

shake of his hand.

Fabian fell into the background, watching, waiting,

wondering what his role was.

“…and this is…” Braxton turned around and appeared

surprised Fabian wasn’t right beside him. He waved anxiously

for Fabian to ‘ get over here!’

Fabian hustled to stand with Braxton.

“This is my newest associate, Fabian Rhys. So for all of you

who have been touched by his uncompromising service, here’s

the man in the flesh.”

“Oh! So you’re Fabian!”

“Fabian, thank you so much for all your help!”

“I can’t believe Braxton actually found someone as efficient

as he is!”

As Fabian absorbed the praise modestly, not remembering

anyone’s name and knowing this small independent film, though

it starred several up and coming young talent, didn’t have any

mega stars, he still tried to be gracious.

“Yes, well,” Braxton tried to ease them out of the mob,

“Time for food and booze. Good luck on the premiere.”

As Braxton held his elbow and led him to the buffet table,

Fabian looked back to see the shared smiles from the group,

whispering about…? About how Mr Todd and Mr Rhys