Chapter 14

New Year's Eve. Kyan groaned at the sound of the obnoxious knocking at his hotel room door. He rolled over and smacked into the sleeping man next to him.

"Ow," Carson grumbled.

"Oh, God," Kyan answered at the painfully way his head was pounding.

Images from the night before flooded his mind: alcohol, lots of alcohol, then Carson passing out next to him on the bed. They were still in their clothes from yesterday.

Kyan managed to pull himself into a sitting position and groaned even louder at the sight of all the empty bottles- bottles that had been pulled from the mini bar. The production manager was going to flip when he received the bill.

"Make it stop," Carson whined.

"God, don't talk," Kyan hissed, pressing his fingers to his temples as he stumbled out of bed.

He didn't even look through the peephole as he threw the door open.

"Christ, you look like shit," Andrew observed, holding his "security blanket" clipboard.

"'Morning to you, too."

"You have to be at the salon in two hours," Andrew informed him. "They are expecting you in costume and makeup in an hour, in the car in an hour and a half. Got it?"

"Can't I call in sick?" Kyan muttered.

"I think I'm dying," Carson wailed.

Andrew jumped a little at the sound of Carson's voice.

"Oh, don't get any ideas," Kyan sighed, seeing the question in the assistant's eyes. "We had a pre-New Year's Eve party last night; that's all."

He hesitated. "Two hours."

"I got it." Kyan closed the door before he had another chance to say anything. "There has got to be some aspirin around here somewhere," he mumbled, looking around.

"Kyan, I'm serious," Carson quivered. "I think I'm dying."

"You aren't dying!" Kyan snapped. "Get your ass out of bed and help me look for these damn drugs."

Carson exaggerated his groans as he pushed the covers off of himself. He wallowed once he sat up and continuously complained until he was standing.

"You are such a baby," Kyan observed, then heading into the bathroom.

"I have to take a shower," Carson lamented. "I smell like a whiskey bottle." He shuffled his way to where Kyan was. "Do you want me to talk to Thom?"

"I'm surprised you remember that conversation."

"It was early in the night," Carson justified.

Kyan gulped down a glass of water before filling it up again.

"So, do you?" Carson asked.

"Do you think you should?"

"I think I should, but it's up to you."

Kyan handed Carson two white pills and the water glass. He watched as his friend swallowed the medication.

"Don't say anything," he concluded. "I'm a grown man. I should be able to handle this."

"You haven't been handling it!" Carson yelled, then groaning in protest. He closed his eyes briefly.

Kyan shrugged. "Today's a new day. We are finished this afternoon. There is a party tonight. There's nothing to stop us from talking."

"Except your unbelievably ridiculous insecurities and his stubborn pride."

"Thanks for bring that up," Kyan said, sarcastically.

Carson grinned. "Any time."

He took a deep breath as he grabbed for his toothbrush. "What time are you heading to the house?"

"Not for a few more hours," Carson said, looking at his watch. "I'll be there when you get there."

"And for about how long is it going to be me, you and Thom there?" he asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"An hour or so."

"Lovely."

Carson tilted his head a little. "I don't know. I have a good feeling about today."

"It's your hangover."

"Christ, I'll never understand you! One minute you are up and optimistic, and the next…. Have you ever been diagnosed with bipolar disorder?"

"No, but I'm sure after doing a couple of more seasons with you guys I will be."

"Very funny," Carson replied, putting the glass down on the counter. "And now I must go. Leave you to your hair rituals…"

"Thanks," Kyan said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll see you at the house." He paused. "If you change your mind…"

"I know where to find you," Kyan finished. "As usual."

Carson twisted his hips a little, then slipped out the door.



Kyan wished his head would stop spinning. He paced up and down the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette and waiting for the camera crew to show up. He loathed being sent to the site early. His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket, and he grabbed it instantly, hoping it was someone calling to explain where everyone was. He frowned in confusion when Ted's number popped up on the caller ID screen. Wondering what the hell was going on, he hit the answer button.

"What's up?"

"Oh, not much," Ted said, casually.

"Are you at the house?"

"Yeah…"

"And?" He took a drag off his cigarette and waited.

"Cripes, I don't even know where to start…."

Kyan felt his insides freeze. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is Thom okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, no… Thom's fine. It's nothing like that."

"Then what the hell is going on? You are giving me a freakin' heart attack."

"Okay, uh, well, this is none of my business, but…"

"But what!" Kyan was ready to jump through the phone and strangle him.

"Did you and Carson sleep together last night?"

"What!" Kyan screamed.

"There's just some talk going on here," Ted tried to explain.

"Oh my god. This is unbelievable."

"So, it's not true?"

"Of course it's not true. What the fuck…"

"A couple of crewmembers overheard Andrew saying something to Bec, and---"

"Ah, Christ," Kyan swore, flicking his cigarette into the street. "Damn typical." He ran his hand over his forehead. "Does Thom know this? Has he heard the rumor?"

"Why do you think I'm calling you?"

"And he believes it!"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Why would he! Why would anyone? The idea of Carson and me…" He shuddered. "Carson and I sat up drinking all night. He passed out in my room. When Andrew came to get me this morning- Jesus, he didn't even see Carson! We were still in our clothes for god's sake." He took a deep breath. "This is ridiculous."

"Well, I don't think Andrew misinterpreted anything," Ted defended. "I think it got exaggerated when the crew overheard."

"But still, Ted! Now Thom thinks I banged Carson last night!" His stomach waved in and out. He slumped against the brick wall. "It's never going to end, is it? The two of us aren't going to get through this, are we?"

"Now, don't say that," Ted assured. "This is just a bump in the road."

"A bump! Ted, it's a fucking mountain! This past week has been one big damn mountain that keeps getting bigger and bigger."

"You two need to talk," Ted spelled out slowly. "How do you guys expect things to change when you two refuse to talk?"

"Well, he won't talk to me now! He thinks I'm screwing Carson!" He shuddered again.

"I'll clear everything up," he offered. "Just don't worry about it."

"Great," Kyan sighed. "You should take a number."

"Huh?"

"Carson mentioned to me that he wanted to talk to Thom as well."

"Oh?"

Kyan smiled a little. "Not a good idea now, eh?"

"Just… don't worry about a thing," Ted said. "Everything is going to be cool."

But everything was not cool, and when Kyan arrived at the house, Ted was only able to tell him he hadn't had time to talk to Thom due to the fact that at the last minute they decided to get a whole new fridge in since the smell had never vaporized from the old one. Ted and Jai had spent the morning shopping.

Kyan walked into the house and let his jaw drop in astonishment. The house was beautiful, and he literally felt his heart tug for the brilliant man that had created such a tranquil surrounding.

"You are here!" said Andrew, rushing through the room.

"Yes, I am," Kyan stated.

"Great. We had a minor change to the kitchen."

"I heard," Kyan said.

"So, since you are done with the bathroom, Thom needs help in the kitchen."

"Where's Carson?" Kyan asked, almost panicked.

"In the bedroom, where else?"

Before Andrew could stop him, he was bouncing up the steps.

"You don't have a mic on!" Andrew yelled after him.

"That's the point," he muttered, bursting through the door.

The cameraman that was standing there jumped back in surprise and Carson's head popped out of the closet at the ruckus.

"There you are," Kyan said.

"We need to talk," Carson said at the same time.

The two of them paused, then glanced at the cameraman. Within seconds, Kyan had pushed Carson back into the closet and slammed the door behind them.

"Hey!" yelled the guy. "You guys can't do that!"

"Take your mic off," Kyan hissed.

Carson motioned the corner above Kyan's left shoulder. "Another camera."

"Jesus Christ," Kyan yelled, taking a shirt from the hanger. "I feel as if I'm bacteria under a damn microscope." He tossed the cotton fabric up until it hooked over the camera lens.

"Let's make this quick," Carson whispered. "Crew will up here in seconds when they see that camera dark."

"They all think we slept together!"

"That's an understatement."

The two of them kept their voices low.

"Did you talk to Thom?"

"Briefly," Carson said.

"And?"

"And he's not happy. He barely looked at me."

"Oh my god! I don't understand why he would think---"

"But this isn't such a bad thing," Carson reasoned. "He's jealous as hell! He still wants you, Kyan."

"He thinks we slept together!" Kyan stressed. "He hates my guts."

"Did you tell anyone we didn't sleep together?"

"Of course I did! I told Ted." He paused. "Did you?"

"The second I found out what was running around this place."

"Except Thom."

"He wouldn't listen to me!" Carson growled. "He's a stubborn bastard!" He motioned with his hands. "Have you seen him? He looks like death warmed over! He looks like he hasn't slept in days; which is probably because of you more than this house. He's angry and sulking all at the same time. I heard him on the phone with Michael when I got here and---"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kyan said, holding up his hand. "Michael?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Don't start this, please! He was talking to the man, not screwing him."

Kyan opened his mouth to respond.

"And if you even accuse him," Carson blurted. "You are damn hypocrite! How can you possibly be upset at the fact that he thinks we are sleeping together when you've all but outright accused him of sleeping with him?"

"Because the two of them have slept together before!" Kyan grumbled. "They have that past! We don't, and we never will." He added.

"Thank God for that."

"What the hell am I supposed to do, Car?" Kyan asked, desperately. "They want me to go down there and help him finish the kitchen. I’m freaking out over here."

"Okay, you need to calm down," he said. "Nothing is going to happen at this house. Not with all the crew here and Travis minutes away from arriving. Thom will be professional as you will be, you understand?"

"But what about afterward? I mean, we have four days before we get to the next victim's house. How---"

"Kyan! Carson!" Bec's voice practically cracked the wood of the door.

"Shit," Carson cursed.

"Out right now! Get the shirt off the camera, and put your mics back on this instant!"

Kyan reached behind him and ripped open the door. "Why is it so damn difficult to have just a little bit of privacy and respect?"

"We have an hour before Travis gets back here," Bec lectured, completely ignoring the question. "The kitchen is not finished. Move! Now!"

"I fucking hate this show," Kyan murmured under his breath as he kicked the door out of his way.

"Stop it," Carson warned. He looked at Bec and smiled sweetly. "Sorry."

Kyan didn't wait for anyone to follow him, and he trotted down the steps, where the sound operator greeted him. He let the man do his job, clipped the mic-pack on his waistband and stormed to the kitchen. He could hear Bec yelling at him the whole way, and just like she had done to him, he completely ignored her.

Thom looked up when Kyan walked into the room. Their eyes met for a second, then Thom looked away.

"What do you want me to do?" Kyan asked, semi-politely.

"The dishes and knives set that Ted bought need to be washed and put away," Thom suggested in the same tone.

"Great." He rolled up his sleeves and started to the sink.

"Would you, uh…" Kyan heard Thom take a deep breath. "Ted opened a bottle of wine for all of us before he left with Jai. Do you want some?"

Kyan leaned against the countertop and let his fingers dig into the stainless steel. His mind cast back to the two of them sitting in Thom's bed- sipping wine and basking together in satisfied lust. Thom had kissed him so gently then- so tenderly- so lovingly. He swallowed the growing lump and tucked his chin into his chest to hide his eyes that were blurred with tears.

"Here," Thom whispered, sliding a glass to him. "It's pretty mild. You'll like it."

Kyan turned his head a little to look at him. "I didn't sleep with him," he managed, quietly.

Automatically, Thom's eyes shifted to the cameras mounted above the door and to the mic that was perched on Kyan's lapel.

"I don't care who hears me, Thom," he said, although keeping his voice below even a whisper. "I didn't sleep with him."

"Kyan…"

"I don't want him."

Thom swallowed, lost in the sincerity in Kyan's voice and the pleading in his eyes. "Who do you want then?" he ventured.

"Hey, Guys! We can't hear you," yelled a sound crewmember from the other room. "Your mics on correctly?"

"We are sending a cameraman in," Bec announced.

"We can't do this," Thom said, stepping away and turning back to the task of hanging the glasses on the newly installed wineglass rack.

As much as it killed him to not say anymore, he nodded and turned on the faucet, hoping the loud sound of the running water would wash out his own thoughts.

"Does he believe me? He has to believe me. How could he even think I could sleep with Carson- no matter how much I had to drink?" He glanced at Thom out of the corner of his eye. "Why does he have to look so good? Even though he does look exhausted, he's so damn…hot." He ground his teeth together. "Damn Carson for putting him in that outfit! I can see every inch of his body… the damn fabric is clinging to him… Christ."

Thom moved away from his eyesight to reach for the next box of glasses. Kyan snapped his eyes straight ahead.

"God, I hope he didn't see me checking him out. Feel like a complete moron."

The two of them didn't notice right away when the cameraman filled the doorway. Kyan's only comfort was that the footage usually taken from these shots were in double time. No one would be able to catch his subtle looks at the man working next to him.

"I wish I knew what he was thinking," he thought. "Is he thinking of me? Does he still want me even now, after all this crap?"

"Could you hand me a knife or something to get this box open?" Thom asked.

"Sure," he answered, jumping a little at the sound of his voice.

Kyan picked up one of the knives and handed it to him. Thom's fingers brushed over his. He let them linger there, stroking Kyan's skin just barely. Everything seemed to stand still for a second. Kyan's eyes fluttered slightly. His breath caught in his throat. Just as he was regaining his senses, Thom took the knife from him and turned away.

"Thanks," he said.

"Yeah," he squeaked. The cameraman's shadow suddenly seemed to loom over him, and he shivered.

"So, uh, how did your segment go?" Thom asked. There was a tiny quake to his voice.

Kyan knew what he was doing- making small talk. Bec and the crew would question why they weren't chatting up a storm like they usually do.

"It went fine," he answered. "Wait until you see him. He looks fantastic. Quite a difference."

"The hair was chopped I presume."

"Completely. You won't recognize him."

Thom's tongue clicked the roof of his mouth. "You going to the party tonight?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged. "Maybe you made plans."

"God damn it! He still thinks I have something with Carson." His brain flipped over to find an answer.

Thom cleared his throat. "As soon as I'm done with this I'll come dry those dishes. Then we should be about done. Candles need to be lit in the living room, but that won't take long."

"You look tired," Kyan offered after a few seconds.

"I am tired," he affirmed. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Kyan's knees melted. He tilted his head to look at him. "Thom…"

"Because of having to step in for Sam," Thom blurted out before Kyan could finish his thought. "It's been chaos around here. Thankfully, Sam is alright, so it's a small price to pay."

Kyan shook his head. Thom had lied through his teeth. It had nothing to do with the house or with Sam- and everything to do with their situation.

"Are you going to be at the party then?" he asked, turning back to his task.

"I'm not sure."

Kyan literally started to panic. He had planned to use that evening as a launching pad to start sorting things out with him. Now that Thom was saying he wasn't even sure if he was going to go, he didn't know what to do. The vow he made back at the airport lingered in the back of his mind. He refused to start the New Year without him.

"Alright, Kids," Carson announced, slipping into the room. "Bedroom is done. What's next?"

Kyan heard Thom grumble something under his breath.

"I'll dry," Carson suggested, when no one said anything. He grabbed a dishtowel.

"Why don't you go light the candles in the living room," Thom practically snapped, reaching behind Kyan and grabbing the towel out of Carson's hands. "I'll dry."

Carson didn't take offense to the way Thom spoke to him. He looked at Kyan, gave him the "I-told-you-so" look, then danced off.

Kyan had to bite his tongue, wanting to restate the fact that he and Carson had nothing together.

With the glasses done, Thom started on the dishes. He stood on the opposite side of the drying rack. To Kyan, it was all too noticeable that he was avoiding being next to him. Every second that passed, the hope that had sparked when Thom touched him fizzled out.

"Who are you kidding? Give it up, man. He doesn't want you. How much clearer can it be?"

"Double time, guys!" Bec announced, sticking her head into the kitchen. "Ted and Jai are on their way with Travis. They'll be here in about ten minutes."

It was enough of an incentive to get Kyan's mind out of self-pity and into why he was there and concentrate on the job he had to do.

The two of them finished the kitchen just as the SUV was pulling into the driveway. Rushing into the living room, Thom had just enough time to tszuj the throw pillows before the three men walked in.

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