Chapter 9

Kyan tore his carry on bag apart looking for his sunglasses. He wished he would've realized he didn't have them on when they were still on the plane instead of when he was rushing out the door to meet Carson for coffee across the street. The two of them were going to go check out the clothing stores and the salons they had researched. Jai, Ted, and Barry had an appointment to do some wine tasting, and Thom was stuck in his hotel room- starching his head at the ground plans and pictures he had received from the production people regarding the house he was supposed to re-do in the next few days.
Kyan swore under this breath when he dealt with the inevitable: he didn't have his glasses, but Thom probably would know what happened to them. He mustered up his pride and courage, while he grabbed the hotel room key and his wallet. The door slammed behind him. Glancing down the hall he saw no one roaming around. Quickly, he darted over to Thom's room, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Thom opened the door, looking extremely comfortable- wearing a pair of baggy short and an oversized t-shirt. He was barefoot, and not one piece of jewelry graced his skin.

"I, uh…" Kyan stammered. "I'm on my way to meet Carson. Can't find my sunglasses. Do you happen to know…"

"I have them," Thom said. "They were falling off you when you were sleeping." He pushed the door open. "Come in."

Kyan was surprised at the invitation, but didn't hesitate to follow him. The room liked like a bomb went off.

"Good god," Kyan announced, looking around. "We've been here for like ten minutes!"

"I packed all my research materials at the bottom of my suitcase- like an idiot," Thom explained, wading through the piles on the bed.

"Did you get the pictures?"

He motioned to the table where a stack of papers laid next to his laptop. Kyan eagerly went over and started digging.

"Oh, god," he exclaimed, flipping through the photos.

"Tell me about it," Thom said. "It's horrible. I don't know how these straight men can live in such filth."

Kyan glanced at him over his shoulder and smirked, watching Thom toss clothes onto the floor as he searched for the sunglasses.

"Do you have any idea what you are going to do about it?"

"Of course," said Thom. "Still doesn’t mean I won't be up to my eyeballs in work the rest of the day. Tomorrow I get to go shopping before we go over to his house."

Kyan's head leapt in his throat. The opportunity knocked. "Do you, uh, want some company?" he ventured, cautiously.

Thom stopped what he was doing and looked at the back of Kyan's head. He was still digging through his research materials as if the question and the answer meant nothing to him.

"Jai is coming with me," he declared.

Kyan's stomach fell. "Of course Jai was going with him. The two of them are inseparable." He grimaced, almost feeling a little jealous.

"That's cool," he managed. "I'll probably be--"

"With Carson," Thom finished.

Kyan raised an eyebrow. "Do I dare detect some jealousy?"

"Here," said Thom.

Kyan pivoted and was faced with a small pile of items. His forehead crinkled.

"Your sweater, watch, socks, sunglasses, and uh… your underwear," Thom explained.

The way he listed them off only remind both of them of the frantic way Kyan left.

"Thanks," he mumbled, taking them, not able to look at Thom in the eye.

"Welcome."

Kyan tilted his head a little. "Where was my underwear that morning anyway? When I got up…"

"I was washing them," Thom grunted. "Because for some stupid reason I had thought you were going to stay longer than a half a second. I didn't want you to have to wear dirty…" His voice trailed off. "Whatever. It doesn't matter now."

Kyan swallowed, his throat slowly closing in. He couldn't imagine feeling any worse than he did at that second. Thom had woken up that morning taking his lover's best interest at heart, and with a handful of words, Kyan had rejected that genuine sincerity.

"Just don't say anything," Thom threatened, stepping away. "I've got too much work to do than sit here and have this conversation."

Kyan's hopes rose just a little. "Are we going to have this conversation?"

"I don't know," Thom whispered. "I need to think through some things. After seeing you today… hearing what happened to you…"

"Wait a minute," Kyan snapped. "I don't want you to give me sympathy! If you only want to talk about this because you feel sorry for me, then…."

"I'm not giving you sympathy," Thom said. "I'm just saying- maybe now I can understand what happened that morning." He walked to the window and crossed his arms. "Although it still confuses me. I don't know what I did or said to make you think I would be like Jason."

"I'm telling you- it wasn't you. It's me."

"Oh, come on, Kyan. You are thirty-three years old. Find another excuse."

"I'm telling you the truth! What happened with Jason---"

Thom waved his hands. "Don't… just don't, okay?"

"Why not? Why can't we talk about this! Please, Thom."

"I'm not ready to talk to you about this," he admitted. "I told you how I felt about you; practically handed my heart to you, and you got up and walked out! I can't forget that! Not right now. Not when I look at you and I want you so much, and I'm hurting so bad."

"I don't want you to hurt anymore," Kyan whispered. "I don't want to hurt anymore. We can---"

"No, we can't," Thom barked. "I don't trust you at all! I can't sit here and take you back… not like we were really together in the first place, but still… and have you do this to me again. I won't do it, Kyan. I won't! Jason broke your trust. You broke mine."

Kyan's knees weakened. "You… please don’t say that. I didn't mean… I know I hurt you. I was scared- I still am scared! I don't wan---"

"You should leave," Thom interrupted. "I have a lot of things to get done." He started towards the door. "And Carson is waiting for you, is he not?"

"He can wait!"

"Well, I can't. I have to do work. There is a reason why we are in Texas, remember?" He grabbed the doorknob. "Just leave, Kyan. Just let me think."

"Not until you promise me we will work through this."

Thom sighed, leaning against the open door. "I can't promise you that."

"Why?" His voice quivered.

"What if we don't get through this?" he asked. "What if you decide I'm too much like Jason? What if I decide I can't risk getting hurt like this again?" He shook his head. "It's too big a promise. I can't do it."

"Bu---"

"Kyan, please!" Thom said, his voice rising to get his point across. "The more you beg and the longer you stand there…"

Kyan 's back stiffened. Tucking his personal items under his arm, he walked out of the room. "Just one thing," he said, looking Thom right in the eye.

"What?"

"I'm not giving up on us yet. We will have this conversation. I promise you that." He saw a shimmer of hope in Thom's eyes. Unable to hold his confidence up any longer, he rushed back down the hall towards his room. His cell phone rang just as he was sliding the key into the door.

"Where are you?" Carson demanded. "Your double vanilla latte is about to become an iced latte."

"I was talking to Thom," Kyan told him, tossing the pile of stuff inside the door, then heading to the elevators.

"Thom? You were talking to Thom? Oh my god! What happened? Are you guys back together? Did you tell him how much you love him?"

"Jesus, Carson," Kyan groaned.

"Tell me. Tell me!"

"I'm in the elevator. Just chill 'til I get there." He didn't give Carson a chance to answer before hanging up.

Thirty minutes later the two men were walking through Saks Fifth Avenue. Carson had been appalled a the large cowboy statue that was perched right outside the entrance, but finally caught his breath when the inside resembled the famous, luxurious department store.

"Let's give you a little fashion make over," he suggested to Kyan, grabbing a pair of jeans and holding them up to his friend.

"My clothes are perfectly fine, thank you," Kyan said.

"Yes, but for Thommy…."

"What could you possibly dress me in that would make his head turn? I mean, he's seen me in leather, in suits, in a tux, in t-shirts, in jeans… and he's seen me completely naked."

"Why do you put images like that in my head?" Carson whined.

"Were you or were you not groping me in the back of the limo?"

"Not seriously!" He shuddered.

Kyan chuckled.

"Why don't we see what we find?" Carson said, taking his arm. "We can at least show him what he is missing."

"But we need to get over to Redox Salon. I have to talk to the manager."

"We have time," Carson insisted. "Now, does he like the rough, rugged look?" He spotted a pair of jeans that had been deliberated frayed, bleached and torn apart.

"I don't know," Kyan said.

"What does this say to you?" he asked, holding up the jeans.

"I need a new pair of jeans," Kyan answered, smugly.

Carson sighed. "What is wrong with you? You are always willing to shop for clothes!"

"I just don't think spending a hundred dollars on destroyed jeans is going to make Thom look at me any differently."

"It's worth a shot!" Carson argued. "Besides I know these jeans will look hot on you."

Kyan took the garment. "My ass will be hanging out of them!"

"Exactly."

"Car, I can not wear these on TV!"

"Fine. I'll find some fabric in wardrobe and sew a patch into it." He pushed Kyan. "Now, go try these on. I'm going to find some shirts."

"I'm not going to win on this, am I?"

Carson smiled and shook his head.

"But these are so not me! You know I like the clean, crisp look. These will make me look dirty, unkempt--"

"Sexy, hot, delicious… and like a man, not like some queer."

Kyan's mouth dropped. "You are such a…."

"Oh, shut up and try them on!"

"I can't believe you said that."

"I've said worse, now move!"

"I'm never going shopping with you again," Kyan vowed, entering the tiny room. "Never again."

"You wish." Carson scanned the racks of clothing. "I'll be right back. Don't you take those off until I see them!"

"This is ridiculous," Kyan muttered. He shed his jeans and slid the over-distressed ones on. "What the hell size are these?"

"Let me see," Carson demanded, coming back after a few minutes with an armful of shirts.

"They are too small. You know what size I wear."

"Which is why I got you a size smaller," he exclaimed. "Let me see."

"They are too small," Kyan sang.

"Let me see," Carson sang back.

"God, I hate you," he grunted, flinging the dressing room door open.

"Not bad," Carson said, examining him.

"Not bad? Are you blind?" He motioned to his crotch. "Do you see the way the denim is pulling?"

"Which is the point," Carson told him. "Turn around."

"I'm not wearing these, Car," Kyan argued, walking in a circle. "I can barely move in them!"

"But they make your ass look nice and tight."

"I don't think I can sit down in them."

Carson sighed. "Okay, fine. If I get you the right size will you wear them?"

Kyan rolled his eyes. "Whatever, as long as you fix this enormous hole back here."

"Deal," Carson agreed. "Here." He shoved the pile of tops at him.

"The term 'power shopping' does not even apply to you," Kyan said. "Did you even look at what you were pulling off the rack?"

"Of course." He shook his head. "Ye of little faith. You are talking to the master of clothes here or have you forgotten already."

"No, no," Kyan said, closing the door. "How could I possibly forget? It's the only thing you talk about."

"Hey, I resent that. I have other things to discuss than clothing."

"Oh, okay, sorry- clothes and sex."

Carson grimaced. "Sex has been non-existent lately."

"What happened to that guy you met at the holiday party?"

"We just had that one date. I never called him after that."

"Why not? He was cute."

"I just didn't feel that connection with him."

"But you slept with him."

"Of course, but it was boring. I kept looking at the clock wondering when it was going to be over."

Kyan sucked in his breath. "That's not good."

"Tell me about it." He paused. "So, you never gave me any real details about you and Thom."

"You told me you didn't want to know," Kyan informed him.

"So, I want to know now. Did you watch the clock the whole time?"

"I didn't know what time it was until I woke up the next morning."

"It was that good?"

Kyan opened the door so Carson could inspect the first shirt. "It was more than good."

"Don't like it. Next." He leaned against the doorframe as Kyan changed. "Was it the best you've ever had?"

"Yeah," he said, dropping his eyes.

"Wow, really?"

"I wouldn't say something like if I didn't mean it, Car."

"Well, do you think he felt the same?"

"That it was the best for him?"

"Yeah."

Kyan shrugged as he pulled the next shirt on. "I don't know. Possibly."

Carson crossed his arms. "Is it because you love him or does he just have a …" He glanced over his shoulder, quickly. "Donkey Dick."

"A little of both." He answered without blinking an eye at the slang.

Carson shook his head at the shirt, but was intriguing at the comment. "So, our Thommy is packing heat, huh?"

"You could say that," Kyan grinned.

"Damn you! How come I can't find a guy that makes me feel the way Thom makes you feel?"

"Don't curse yourself," Kyan said, sadly. "Right now I'm not feeling all too good."

"Oh, he'll come around. I'm sure of it. You guys fit together." He raised his eyebrow. "Pun intended."

"Yeah, I figured."

"That one looks good," Carson observed. "But try on the rest of them."

"Okay, so is there anything else you want to know?" Kyan asked, changing shirts.

"Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Do you really love him? I mean, really, really love him; not just because it's a lack of options and he's convenient?"

"He's not convenient," Kyan said, straightening out the suede, long-sleeve crew shirt. He turned to Carson. "I love him."

Carson smiled, then looked him over. "That's it. That's the look. A nice belt, some jewelry, and your boots…. He won't be able to resist you."

"I'm trusting you on this," he said, glancing in the mirror. The shirt wasn't so bad- it would've been something he would've picked out himself, but the jeans- the jeans were so different than his style.

"You look fantastic," Carson said. "Hurry up and change. I'll buy you that other shirt, too."

"And go get my size in these jeans!" Kyan lectured once Carson closed the room door.

"On my way."

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