Never Enough

it be, anyway. But it was on Victor’s page, and nothing new had gone up there for more than a week, so she clicked over to see it. “Holy shit,” she said.
“What?”
“Can you hear this?”
“Smells Like Teen Spirit.” There was a soft thump as Rory’s feet hit the floor. She came over to the top of the stairs. “Is that Andy?”
“It’s Andy Alfredo Le Pera Enter the Dragon Martin. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong, but something is.” Dana was still watching. Victor had to have taken this, because he was nowhere in sight. “He’s in a karaoke bar and he looks like hell.” Suit jacket hanging open, top three buttons of his shirt undone, hair wild, and screaming out the song like it was his job. It was a good system, too; the backing track was loud and rich, and there were effects
on the mic. It almost sounded mixed.
Rory was down the stairs and leaning over to see Dana’s phone. “Holy shit. Victor posted that?”
“Yeah, a few minutes ago. Looks like they were in Japan.” The song ended. Andy set the mic in its stand, holding onto it with both hands as if he might fall over without it, head down, breathing hard. They could hear applause. Dana glanced up. “Want to see the whole thing?”
Rory wasn’t sure she did want to, at least not at that precise moment. She shook her head. “There’s no caption from Victor? Why did he post that?”
“Not even a date and time, and I don’t know.” It’s an SOS, she thought.
He wouldn’t want to address that online. She logged out without commenting and switched to her text app: Victor WTF with that video. Are we scrambling a rescue team?
The reply was immediate, which was unexpected: About to get shut down goddamned planes Andy’s dad is not doing well and this year’s going to get rough. He’s better now but he needed to scream Thanks for the heads-up. I know you’re taking care of him Trying to. In the homestretch now. Hey we’re brainstorming a new photography thing. Shakespeare slash or gender-bent or otherwise twisted, linked to the text
Rory, reading over Dana’s shoulder, said, “Ooooh. Ask him if we get to pick our characters.” Dana sent the message.
A minute later the answer came: Absolutely. Oh FML here’s the phone police. Besos y Abrazos chicas
Back at ya especially hug the other one plz Will do OXO
“You know,” Rory said, “I’m really glad that guy came along.”
“Me too.” Dana put her phone to sleep and set it on its charger. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Can we cuddle a little?”
“We can cuddle all night, especially if you let me pee first.” Rory leaned down to kiss Dana’s cheek, then scurried for the bathroom.
The last tour dates were in Australia. It was hot. “My internal thermostat is broken,” Andy complained. “We went from winter in Europe to summer in
South America and winter in Asia and here it’s fucking summer again and goddamn.” He was lying naked on the bed. They were finished, and he was glad. The tour had been so much fun, but they were tired. Victor had some time before starting that voice job when they got back to Los Angeles.
Andy’s tentative date for the ‘Tempest’ photo shoot was before that, but not immediately. “Can we take an extra day here?”
That sounded good to Victor. “To lie by the pool and rest? Sure. It’s not like there’s much prep for my thing.” He already had the script, with the director’s notes. “How about two? Two full days and nights, before we get back on a plane.”
“Two days. Oh God that sounds great.” They’d had multiple days between tour dates much of the way through, but at least one was usually lost to crossing multiple time zones. “Hand me my phone?” Victor did that. Andy sent a text to the promoter, and then one to their business manager: hiding out in Sydney for extra 2 days, can you rebook the flight home plz and advise, TYVM. “God I’m such a diva now.” He dropped the phone somewhere on the bed and closed his eyes.
“Delegating like a boss.” Victor had been sort-of planning to book them a massage. That was when they were going to travel the next day. Now they had this day, and two more days, and his husband was naked. Never enough, he thought, still amazed. He pulled off his tee shirt, shucked off his shorts, set a couple things ready (including the camera) and got on the bed. He straddled Andy’s hips and enjoyed the resulting smile. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said.
“What are you up to,” Andy said lazily.
“You’ll find out.” Victor poured a little baby oil into his palm, capped the bottle and tossed it aside. Warmed the oil between his hands, and set them on Andy’s ribs. He stroked up over chest and shoulders, down the slim muscular arms, to the hands Victor never tired of. Thumbs pressing into Andy’s palms and the inside of his wrists. Heels of his hands slowly pushing up the underside of Andy’s forearms, then hands wrapped around those arms above the elbows. Thumbs stroking up the inside of the biceps, watching the response. He bent and put his mouth on Andy’s chest. Listened to the change in his breathing, the little gasp when tongue swept over nipple. Still there when his hands returned to Andy’s, now massaging each finger. Arching his back to press the rigid cock against his. His own breath quickening. Teeth on
a nipple now.
“Jesus.”
“Mmm.” Victor couldn’t make a word. Andy was lying completely still beneath him, except for that rapid breath. Victor wondered if they would both come from this. It was an experiment. He worked each finger as if it were something else, from palm to fingertip. Andy was breathing through his mouth, each exhalation slightly vocal. Victor’s mouth still working on his chest, licking, sucking, biting