he went there straight from school, or else he'd go back to his own place and meet Paul in Malibu when he finished working later on. But he hadn't spent a night in his own apartment in months, and his roommates teased him every chance they got.
'Okay, Thayer … who is this broad? What's her name? When are we going to lay eyes on her, or is she one of these easy dames you hide from your friends and just screw all the time … ?”
“Very funny.” He tried to fob them off, he put up with their jokes, their admiration, their jealousy, wondering what they would say if they knew the truth. But he knew the answer to that. They would call him a fucking filthy little faggot and probably throw him out.
“Have you told any of your friends?” Paul asked him one night, as they lay naked in front of the fire, having just made love.
Lionel shook his head. “No.” All he could think of were the boys he shared the apartment with. Typical freshmen jocks, or young intellectuals, all dying to get laid and working hard at it all the time. Their sex lives were far less active than Lionel's, but in a totally different vein. They would have been horrified if they could see him now. Yet he was so happy like this. He looked tenderly at Paul, who was watching him carefully, as though trying to read his mind.
“You going to hide all your life, li? It's the shits. I did it myself for a long time.”
“I'm not ready to come out yet.” They both knew that.
“I know.” And Paul hadn't pushed. He didn't take him anywhere, although the boy was absolutely beautiful and his friends would have all drooled enviously, but he didn't want word to get out. It was only a matter of time, once he did go out with him, before people found out who he was. Faye Thayer's son … and then the shit would hit the fan. Paul wanted to spare them both that, and that seemed wise to both of them. Particularly to Paul, whose career could have been jeopardized if Faye or Ward went berserk when they heard, and they might well. The boy was only eighteen after all, and Paul had just turned twenty-nine. It could make a real stink, and it wouldn't do Paul any good. His PR agent still linked his name with actresses whenever possible. People cared about that stuff. No one wanted to hear that their idol was gay.
At Thanksgiving, Lionel spent the day with his family, feeling separate and grown up and strange and different from them now. He didn't have anything to say, he discovered, listening to them. Greg was so childish, and the girls seemed as though they came from another world. He couldn't talk to his parents now, and only Anne was bearable as he waited for the day to tick by. He was relieved when, after dinner, he could finally leave and go back to Paul. He had told his parents that he was going up to Lake Tahoe with friends, though of course he was spending the weekend quietly with Paul. Paul only had another few weeks of shooting left, and they were both relaxed.
It seemed only moments later when Christmas had arrived. Lionel did all his Christmas shopping as soon as he got out of school for vacation and he dropped in on the set one afternoon, while Paul was in his dressing room.
He didn't see his parents anywhere, so Lionel just drifted into the little room he knew well by now and flopped down in a chair. Paul was smoking a joint, and he offered it to Li, but he had never enjoyed it as much as Paul said he did. He took a quick hit, and gave it back, and the two men sat back and smiled at each other, as Paul touched Lionel's thigh. “If we weren't here, I'd have a great idea.” The two men laughed. They were so easy with each other sometimes they forgot there was something to hide. Paul leaned forward and they kissed.
And neither of them heard the door or the single step, but Lionel was sure he heard a sharp gasp and he pulled away to see Faye standing there, with her face frozen with shock and tears in her eyes. Lionel jumped to his feet instantly, and slowly Paul stood up, as the three of them