Splash on the Screen
by Jack Scribe
Doctor Bragman - Howie - patiently looked at me with a puzzled, patient expression as I mentally sorted out my past and organized my thoughts. This was the first outsider who would hear my tale.
After taking a deep breath, I started, "I was 19 and didn't expect my dad to come home. When he arrived early, dad got an eye-full. My best friend and I were really into each other." I gave Howie a fast, capsule account of my past five years - excluding the Memphis side job - and concluded with the recent reconciliation between my dad and me.
"Unfortunately, this situation doesn't have a happy ending like yours...yet," Howie replied, "His name is Bryan Martinez - nice, good looking, smart kid whose future is pretty bleak." He looked down at the floor as he wrung his large, manicured hands.
"Bleak? How so?"
"The father, as I understand it, is disenfranchised from his family in Dallas and Bryan has never met his grandparents on either side. The mother divorced Mr. Martinez five years ago and moved back east. She has never asked to see Bryan since."
"Wow. With the mother walking out - that is bleak. What'll happen to the kid?" I asked.
"Depends on the police investigation. Bryan lived with his dad somewhere in West L.A. The ER got DNA samples of the rape...and there is a positive match to back up Bryan's story. Sounds like foster home time because his father is going away for a long time."
"He's on this floor?" I knew that Howie had asked if our group would make an appearance and reassure the kid. 'This is something we all gotta do,' I decided, 'and help this pup get his head together.'
"At the end of the corridor," Howie said with a hopeful, encouraging smile.
"Doc, you go down and tell Bryan that there are a few friends that want to say hello, and I'll go get the troops...if that's okay."
"More than okay," Howie replied, "but if you could spend a little extra time - just the two of you - a little later, I'd appreciate it."
"I understand. Why don't we bring some of those deserts for the young guy to wolf down?"
"Unfortunately, that would be a problem," Howie replied. "Because of his injuries, Bryan's diet is very precise."
"Got it." I could only imagine the sensitive nature of the kid's torn rectal area.
We both stood and left the lounge. When I returned to the door leading to Jim's room, Howie pointed further down the corridor. I nodded and returned to the group.
"Hey, Brent, everything okay?" Doug asked as I walked into the room. I noticed everything had been put away and Jim was proudly holding court.
"The Doc asked a favor from all of us. There's a young guy down the corridor that needs a little cheer. I won't go into the details except to say that he was physically abused by his father and our presence for a few minutes would be a good psychological lift."
"Guys, I've monopolized your time," Jim said. "This has been a great evening, but sounds like this band of angels is needed elsewhere. To all of you guys, much thanks."
"We're going to have to have a party in San Diego when you're up and about," Dave Replied. "There's a guest room for you and whoever you might want to drag down." Everyone laughed as Billy's face blushed profusely.
"In the meantime, take care of the young man Brent mentioned," Jim said. "I know a little bit about what happened and you'll be good medicine."
The group said goodbye, one by one, as they filed out to the corridor.
"Okay, here's the deal," I said in a stage whisper. "The guy is 15 and his name is Bryan and I'm sure that he'll get emotional. But that's where our acting comes into play - he needs us." When I motioned for everyone to follow me, I noticed Sean at the end of the corridor next to Bryan's room, waving and smiling.
When we arrived at the open door, Sean announced, "Dr. Bragman, would you tell Bryan that he has some visitors?"
"Hey, guy. A few people want to come in and say, 'hi'. You okay with that?" Howie asked.
"If you say it's okay...I guess so," a young, baritone, male voice replied in a low tone.
After Sean nodded, I entered the room with the entire group following closely behind me. One by one we surrounded the bed. Before us was a handsome, young teen with short, dark hair, a fair complexion and large brown eyes.
"Hi, Bryan. I'm Brad and these are some of my buddies. We were visiting a good friend, a few rooms away, and the Doc said that you might like some company," I said with a low, soft tone.
The crew followed up with variations of an upbeat greeting. Each smiled and waved.
"Hi," he squeaked, as his eyes got larger. His head slowly turned and studied each face in his line of sight. His mouth dropped open when he made it back to me. "Is this some sort of dream? I recognize some of you from the television. Is someone pulling my leg?" he asked meekly.
"Some of us work on TV, Bryan," Billy said. "But tonight we just want to be friends. We know you had it pretty rough, and we're here to tell you that there are good days ahead."
"Sez who?" he asked politely but with a hint of skeptical defiance.
"Sez me, big guy," Howie answered. "I wanted you to meet these people and let you know that there are plenty of people pulling for you." He smiled and put his big hand on Bryan's shoulder. "They're here visiting Jim Weiss down the corridor...everyone wanted to stop in and see you before they left."
"And someone from this group will visit you every day until you mend," I said. " Plus I'd like to get to know you better myself."
"Yeah, sure. A big star like you is going to come see me," he answered, a little mockingly.
"If you'll have me, I'll be here, Bryan. I work and also go to school...but I'll be here. Is that okay?" I put out my hand for him to grab.
Reluctantly, he took my hand and we shook while the others around the bed murmured their approval.
"I take a handshake seriously," Bryan said. His grip was strong and his hand was warm.
"So do I, buddy...so do I." We locked into each other's eyes and nodded.
We were closely wrapped together, spooning, with my chest up against Brent's back, my flaccid equipment parked against his butt, and my hand resting firmly on his stomach. He was breathing deeply, still zonked out, as the early Sunday morning light entered the bedroom window. I had been awake for a while and was replaying the last scene we experienced at the hospital before coming home.
Knowing the details of Bryan's abuse, I realized that the young man in the hospital bed had emotionally touched Brent. He gave Mike, Dave and me the sordid details of Bryan's victimization while we drove back to the condo.
"Mornin'," Brent mumbled as he touched my hand and wiggled his behind into my crotch.
"How are ya doing?"
"Except for a pee hard-on, pretty good. Excuse me for a sec," Brent said.
He eased out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Earlier, I had left the mouthwash out for my buddy. We had both concluded, years ago, that Sunday morning loving was a special time. Moments later, I heard a flushing sound...two, actually...and smiled, knowing that our house guests probably had the same plan in mind.
"Feeling better?" I asked as my personal stud muffin returned to bed.
Brent smiled, got back in bed and pulled up for a fresh, morning kiss. "Much better." He moved closer, our awakening cocks touching, and hugged me while his tongue - freshly minted - explored my oral cavity.
"Love ya, champ," I mumbled as we took a break from tongue-fucking each other.
"Love me, hard." Brent looked into my eyes, intensely, as he ground his crotch into mine.
The overcast, gray, morning light was becoming brighter. Without much effort, I moved Brent over on his back. Both of our cocks had grown to their full, excited size.
"Your wish shall be granted," I replied with a lustful smile. Getting on my knees, I straddled my lover and leaned down for another kiss while I started massaging his pecs and lightly pinching his nipples. I wasn't surprised when this produced a pleasant groan.
"Oh, yes...ahhh." He moaned, closed his eyes and smiled in a dreamy fashion.
I started nibbling on his earlobe and laved his ear. After kissing him one more time, I moved down to tongue his armpits, chest, aureoles and six-pack structured torso. I momentarily pecked at his navel before taking the knob of his prized manhood into my mouth. Tonguing his sensitive dickhead kept Brent in overdrive while I rolled his orbs around in his scrotum with my hand.
"These are too good to pass up," I said as I pulled away from his throbbing, drooling cock. I sucked his balls while my fingers found their way to his perineum and beyond.
"Bingo. Fuck me...love me...now," Brent growled as he popped open his eyes. He winked and licked his lips.
I looked into his eyes and read the familiar expression of sexual anticipation on his face. He smiled when I grabbed the bottle of Wet and dribbled a generous portion of lube on my hand. After coating his hard cock and mine, I started to work on his puckered opening. At this stage in our partnership neither of us needed much more that an initial stretching to prepare the anxious anus. He twitched as I entered with two fingers and found his spot.
"I love you, gorgeous," I said as he moved his legs to my shoulders and I positioned my cock at his back door. His butt eagerly moved to receive me.
"Urmph, ahhh...I love you, too," he quietly moaned as I slowly moved in, only stopping once my pubes brushed against his buns. Knowing what my other half liked, I started a variation of long-dicking, followed by short, probing jabs aimed at his prostate. Brent grabbed his hard cockhead and started a focused manipulation with his thumb and forefinger. Neither of us wanted to 'get off' fast.
"Babe, strangle my cock with your asshole, ahhh...oh, yeah...take it, fucker," I yelled as I sped up my strokes after several moments of tender loving.
"Slam it home, you beautiful cocksucker...Kee-rist, ohhh," Brent yelled. I felt his sphincter tighten at the same time my balls started tingling.
"I'm cumming, Brent. Shoot your jizz...I...ahhh...oh, shit," I shouted.
"Houston, we have contact," Brent retorted with a contorted smile as I plunged into him for a few, defining, final stokes. He erupted and shot cum up his chest and torso while I flooded his chute. He eased his legs down and I gently lay over his slick, sticky, warm body while my dick slowly wilted to its normal, flaccid form inside Brent.
"That was, indeed, a good morning," Brent said, as I literally slid up for a final kiss. "A very, very good morning. But the top guy has to clean up." Brent winked and nodded.
"Hold that thought." We both knew what I meant as I slid out of him and off the bed. I trotted to the bathroom and took care of my messy business before returning with two towels: a warm, moist towel and a dry one. I lovingly cleaned him before placing a dry towel under him and smiled at our well-practiced dirty talk bedroom dialogue - it turned us on in a big way.
I smiled with him as we heard a faint, "Fuck me," being yelled from the guest bedroom.
"Score two points for the good guys," I said with a laugh. He smiled before I leaned in for another kiss...this time a soft, tender expression of love.
"Babe, can we talk for a few minutes?"
It was only about 7:00 a.m. We had promised to meet Mike and Dave in the kitchen around eight for some breakfast before they returned to San Diego.
"I think I know what's on your mind. It's Bryan, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's Bryan and where his future is headed. I worry about his placement into a foster home because it can be a real crapshoot. He seems like a nice kid and I'd hate to see anything negative happen to him."
"Why don't we...I emphasize we...get to know Bryan better this week?" I asked. "I can certainly get away from the studio and we could both go over there this afternoon?"
"A good plan," Brent replied with a nod. "He needs some adult role models right now; gay males to whom he can reach out to for advice. I need to tell him about myself...to come out to him."
"Wow, that is a statement of commitment."
"I need to do it, for him." Brent looked at me with a sincere urgency.
"I'll support whatever you decide, but I have a funny feeling that we'd better get our home addition finished soon," I said with a laugh.
"First, let's figure out where his head's at and what our roles might be. I want to help Bryan, but I'm just not sure what we can do," Brent said with a shrug, "but enough of that right now. We need to get cleaned up."
We proceeded to take a shower and shave - Brent and I carefully shaved each other in the shower...everywhere. After throwing on sweats and tees, we padded out to the kitchen, made coffee and started putting together breakfast.
"Good morning, guys." From behind we heard the familiar voices of Dave and Mike.
I turned and smiled at their radiant, just-got-fucked, facial glows. "Hey, yourself. Brent and I are getting ready to make breakfast: juice, scrambled eggs with diced ham, and English muffins. Grab yourselves some coffee."
"I can get into that," Dave replied. As he poured coffee for both, he continued, "That was quite an evening. Kind of a double-hitter. It felt really good to help boost Jim's morale, but neither of us were ready for the impact of that visit with Bryan. What a shitty hand the kid has been dealt."
"He seems like a really a nice boy," Mike replied after a sip of coffee, "and it appears that he is getting a good education. I mean he doesn't come across as some wise-ass, street kid."
Everyone was standing around the kitchen while I cut the ham.
"I'll give the father credit for providing for Bryan," Brent replied. "Apparently he is a chef in a West Hollywood restaurant, and I was told he's infamous for making gnarly, homophobic comments to the waiters."
"Right," I said with a chuckle, "like there's anything like a straight waiter in WeHo."
"And then the father comes home and finds Bryan...well, you know." Brent looked down at the floor, briefly, unable to complete the obvious thought. He just shook his head.
"So much for being a father," Dave said. "From what I understand in pre-law, his actions just pre-empted that position, permanently."
"And that's the rub. No family. The mother hasn't seen Bryan, or hasn't cared to see him, since she left. In that the father works at night, the boy is an unusually positive example of a being a latchkey kid. I guess he loves school," Brent added as he put the English muffins in the double toaster. "Guys, pour some juice and sit down. Looks like chow's almost ready."
"We're going to see Bryan this afternoon and see where his head's at," Doug said. He poured the egg mixture into a large, hot skillet and started the scramble.
"Sounds like you're going to have a young'n in your lives, too," Mike said.
"Too?" Brent asked, "You're speaking of the guy we met when we visited you during Christmas...Justin?"
"Yeah. We've all got teens who are trying to come to terms about being gay," Mike said. For the next 10 minutes he and Dave related how Mike and he had bonded with Justin Palmer during the holidays.
"Before he returned to school, we became really tight - in a big brother way," Dave said, "I feel rewarded that we're able to help a guy get through those last few years before he's officially becomes an adult."
"But, there's another factor," Mike added. "We're very concerned about his grandma's health - diabetes - so we're looking out for her, too. With Justin back in Minnesota at school, he's relieved that we're close at hand."
"Then we may have to compare big brother notes," I said, "because I think Brent and I want to play some sort of roles in Bryan's life."
"The kid doesn't even have a home...and I'm concerned that he'll not be assigned to a proper foster home." Brent squeezed my arm and added, "We're thinking about the feasibility of seeing if he could stay with us."
"Wow, that's news," Dave exclaimed.
"It's nothing definite," I replied. "We're just bouncing the what if's concerning helping out the guy. Bryan's got to warm to the idea, first."
The rest of the morning was devoted to random conversations shared with best friends. However, it was clear that Justin and Bryan were high on both of our lists. By 10:00 a.m., Mike and Dave said goodbye and left to return to San Diego. Brent and I did a few loads of laundry and straightened up the condo. We walked into the recently constructed doorway that led to our soon-to-be master bedroom and entertainment center and discussed how best to accelerate the renovation. Brent promised to call the designer first thing in the morning. His first class wasn't until 11:00 a.m.
Sean Fitzgerald had arranged with security to issue a special two-week pass and gate card to the underground hospital entrance for us to use. Doug and I arrived around 2:00 p.m., picked up the pass and card, and went up to Jim and Bryan's floor. We first stopped by and said 'hi' to Jim. He was in great spirits. Billy had brought over study guides from Jim's professors so that he could make every effort to keep up with classes until he returned to campus.
Our next stop was at Bryan's room. Just as we were about to enter, an unfamiliar voice that sounded like another young guy, said, "I'm sorry how this all turned out...but nothing's changed: we're still best friends."
"You haven't said anything at school, have you?" the other voice - obviously Bryan - asked. "I mean..."
"Absolutely not. I've got just as much to lose as you if the guys found out about the stuff we were doing. I told everyone that you had an appendix operation and the gang expects you back at school in a week or so."
"Phew. Thanks, Jimmy. I hope we'll be best friends for a long time."
"No sweat...that goes without saying again. Bry, I gotta go cuz mom's picking me up in a few minutes. Bye...I'll see ya tomorrow and bring your homework."
"Yikes, don't remind me."
We heard a sound that was probably a fist tap and a tall, lanky, blond kid bounded out of the room. He excused himself as he almost ran into us and went on. He had a curious expression that signaled he wondered who had been standing outside the door. Since I was wearing a cap and sunglasses, I doubted he recognized me.
"We're baaack," I said in a pretty crummy Jack Nicholson impression as we stepped into the room. "Hi, Bryan." I took off my sunglasses and smiled.
"Bryan, my buddy is not very good at impressions," Doug added with a laugh.
After Bryan got over the shock of having two faces from last night in his room again, he let out a giggle. "You came back," he said with a satisfied expression.
"Absolutely. You remember Brent, AKA Brad? And me...Doug."
"We told you we were men of our word. If you want, we'd like to get to know you better and be friends...maybe." I reached down and gently patted Bryan on his back.
"You don't want to be friends with a queer." Bryan looked down at his sheet-draped body and grimaced. A tear appeared in the corner of his eye.
"I prefer the term 'gay' or 'homosexual'," I replied. "To answer your question: yes, we want to be friends, gay or straight."
He slowly raised his head and looked at each of us. Bryan wiped away his tears and turned on a small, tight smile. He was a handsome lad. Genetically, it appeared that his father was probably more Spanish in heritage. And we already knew that his mother was Caucasian, originally from a farming community in Ohio.
"Well, dad certainly found out that I'm gay...for sure...sumpin I wanted to hide, knowing how he feels about que...gays. Now I'm really fucked, in more ways than one." He looked at us, nervously shrugged, and snickered as he rolled his eyes.
I sat down, took his hand and said, "A young, gay guy with a sense of humor. I like that" Doug and I joined in laughing at his awkward icebreaker of a joke.
"Um, I know you're an actor...Mr. Williams. What do you do, Mr....?"
"DiMarco. But let's stick with Doug."
"And I'm Brent to my friends."
"To answer your question, when I'm not picking up after this guy at home, I am a struggling film director."
"Struggling, my ass. Whoops, maybe not the best choice of words." I shrugged and rolled my eyes.
This brought a louder, nervous laugh from Bryan. "Home?" he asked.
"We share a condo...plus a few other things," Doug answered.
I could almost hear cogs turning in his head as he considered this new information. "Bryan, can I tell you some things that need to go no further than this room?" I asked.
"Um, yeah, I suppose," he replied with an expression that was a combination frown and curious scowl.
"Let's put it this way. If you were a kid, I'd say 'cross your heart'. But since you're a young man, I want you to shake hands on this...deal." I extended my hand, and unlike last night, he eagerly grabbed it. 'We're definitely making progress,' I thought as he gripped my hand like a vise, 'and he likes the idea I don't think of him as a kid.' In the process, I put my other hand over his and looked into his curious eyes.
"Deal," Bryan said in a positive fashion as he released my hand.
"I'm not going to even imagine what it was like for your father to...do what he did, Bryan. But I can see the emotional hurt you experienced."
He nodded his head and looked over at Doug before he returned his full attention to me.
"Six years ago, my dad walked in on me and another guy. I won't go into the details except to say that it was heavy-duty gay sex, and we were really getting into it."
"Yep, I'm gay. Was and am. My dad couldn't deal with it and literally tossed me out of his house." 'Hmm,' I thought, 'I said "his house" and not my home.' Interesting.
"Were you...my age?" he asked.
"Naw...I was in college. Nevertheless, he ordered me to get out and stay out...and I did. The big difference, however, was that my dad never physically abused me."
Bryan's mouth was open as he digested what I had just said.
"When Dr. Howie told us about your situation, Brent became quite concerned," Doug said.
"What happened to you touched too closely to my experience with my...dad," I added.
For the next ten minutes, I told Bryan about my life after being kicked out. It was more of a monologue, but I knew that he was paying close attention to every word. Doug smiled and placed his arm around my shoulders when I brought him into the picture.
"So you guys are together?" Bryan asked in a matter-of-fact manner.
"We've been partners for over three years. However, because of the nosy press and Brent's acting career, we keep it very quiet," Doug answered. "If it was legal for two guys to get married in California, we would be first to the altar."
"Unfortunately, I put that possibility right up there with the United States having a black president and somebody like Arnold Schwarzenegger being our governor. It's just not going to happen for a long time."
"That's funny...thinking about Arnold being governor," Bryan replied, "I loved Terminator 2 when the Terminator says, 'Hasta la vista, baby!' and blows the bad guy to smithereens."
"Yeah, that was a pretty cool movie," I replied. Arnold also had a great line - 'chill out, dickwad' - but I decided not to quote it. "Bryan, do you want to talk about it? How you felt about what your father did?" I looked into his eyes and it wasn't difficult to read his emotions.
He immediately pulled his hands up to his face and started crying, softly. "I...I..." was all Bryan could get out.
"I'm sorry, buddy...guess I shouldn't have brought this up." I was getting mad at myself for thinking I could approach this sensitive, personal subject.
"Naw, no, it's okay." Bryan let out a big sigh and wiped his face. "It's just so friggin' painful. I don't mean back there...I'm healing okay. It's just that I can't get over how he threw me onto the bedroom floor and attacked me."
"Only tell me if you wanna," I said, "Doug and I are here to help...if we can." It appeared that maybe we were going to be fine.
"Brent, I want to tell somebody and I think you'll understand."
"You want me to leave?" Doug asked.
"No. I mean you guys are like, married. Right?"
We both nodded, and I said, "Life partners is the PC term...but yeah, like married does just fine."
"Okay...here goes. I guess I never looked at him as anything other than someone who provided for me. My mother didn't love me. In fact, I think that having me was never in the cards for either of them. I kinda just happened."
"Maybe that he took care of you was his way of demonstrating his love for you?" I replied. "You know the saying, love has mysterious ways."
"Fuck mysterious. Whoops, sorry guys. I mean, he never once told me he loved me. Barely ever touched or hugged me. Never even spanked me. Until what he did...happened, I think respect was all I really felt. Now that's gone."
"So now..." Doug said.
"I don't hate him," Bryan replied as he shook his head. "But like I said, I don't respect him...period. You understand, doncha?" He looked at me intensely with a pleading expression.
"One-hundred percent." Our stare was like laser beams locking in.
"I plan on putting both him and what he did into my past and get on with my life." Bryan looked at us intently and added, "Dr. Bragman and another doc have been helping me with this."
I picked up on Bryan's use of the pronoun 'him' and never 'dad' or 'father'. "Sounds like you're getting good advice. The big question is where do you go from here? Dr. Bragman says that you're ready to be released in a few days. From what I understand you don't have any relatives."
"Yeah," he said in a small, tentative voice, "that's the rub. The guy who was leaving as you came in is my best friend. But he said I couldn't stay with him."
"If this isn't too personal, could I ask if this was the guy your dad caught you with?" Doug asked.
Bryan slowly nodded and started leaking tears, in spite of his struggle not to cry.
"Hey, buddy. That's okay. Let it out," I said, leaning into him. Bryan automatically reached for me, hugged me hard and buried his wet face into my chest.
"There's a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo that I'm going to go through," he said after the last of the tears and sniffles subsided. "I understand that I'll be assigned to a foster home. What a bummer. I mean, who wants a gay, teenage guy?"
I looked at this lost young man, whose only misstep had been to physically love another young man, and felt my stomach tighten. I turned to Doug and our eyes immediately communicated. Telepathically, we were reaching into each other's souls. He moved closer and nodded with a small smile. 'Holy fuck,' I thought, 'this thing with Doug is awesome.'
"I know people who might be interested," I answered after I received my lover's approval.
"Yeah?" Bryan asked, skeptically, as he started a rapid blinking, "Who would want me."
"You're looking at them," I replied. "If you want, we'd like to talk with you about coming to a new home...ours." Doug walked around to the other side of the bed, sat down and quietly placed his hand on Bryan's shoulder.