Date: Tue, 19 Feb 2013 02:37:40 -0500
From: Andy Darko <niftyandydarko@gmail.com>
Subject: Channing's Visit Chapter 4

This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor
do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences.
If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site. If you
enjoy Nifty, please donate!

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Channing's Visit - Chapter 3
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So sorry for the delay! But, many thanks to all
who e-mail me: Robert, Wayne, Freddie, Jhep, Angel,
Shannon, Austin, 'Necessary', James and anyone I
missed!
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	For a few days following our last tryst, everything was golden
around the house. Channing and I spent more and more time together, whether
it be watching movies, cooking meals or working out at the same time. His
regimen of exercise was a great motivation for me to keep myself in shape
as well.

	Channing was on the elliptical and I was huffing away on the
treadmill. I was jamming out to some club mix and he had in his headphones,
too. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his phone light
up. Channing stopped his routine and answered the call, his strides slowing
steadily. Then, he flat out stopped, yanked his headphones out and bolted
for the door.

	Startled, I leapt off of the treadmill after him. "Channing! What's
going on?"

	He took the steps two at a time, ignoring me as he ran to the front
door. He swung the door open and enveloped someone in a crushing hug. "Oh,
fuck, Chan! You're dripping sweat! Get off me!"

	"Deal with it!"

	The two laughed as Channing spun the smaller man around and into
the house. When his feet touched the ground, I finally saw his
face. Channing guided him over to me, still smiling. "Joey, this is
Reagan. Reagan, Joey."

	I shook hands and grinned. "Mr. Gordon-Levitt, nice to meet you."

	He rolled his eyes. "Joey is fine. And, the pleasure is all mine."

	Doubt it.

	"So, did you two rent this property together?" he asked, looking
around curiously. I was confused. "What do you mean?"

	Joey shrugged. "Is this some kind of timeshare I didn't know you
had, Chan?"

	"Joe, this is Reagan's house."

	The look of surprise on his face was priceless. He looked between
Channing and I about three times before he spoke. "So... how do you two
know each other?"

	"Owen Egner," I replied. Joey nodded understandingly. "So, you're
the one who hides people away when they don't want to be found."

	"Guilty."

	"Well, had I known that, I wouldn't have come unannounced. I don't
mean to intrude on your hospitality. I was just looking for Chan."

	I brushed his formality off. "It's honestly fine. There's plenty of
room here and, as the old adage goes, a friend of Channing's is a friend of
mine. Although, how DID you know where he was?"

	"Owen Egner," he chuckled. "Of course."

	I laughed, but something was nagging me in the back of my mind. If
Owen had been willing to break his own rule about discretion to send Joey
here, there had to be an ulterior motive. As Channing's friend, Joey was
someone that could be trusted and supportive, someone who could deliver bad
news.

	And, just like that, I knew why Joey was in my house.

	I came to when Channing placed his hand on my side. "I'm gonna go
take a quick shower and then we should do dinner or something."

	I forced a smile and nodded, acutely aware that Joey had not missed
the physical contact. Channing disappeared, leaving us alone in the
foyer. "Do you need help with your bags?" I offered. Joey shook his head
and indicated to the small carry-on by the door. "That's all I have. I'm
not planning on being here for more than a few days. If that's okay with
you."

	"It's no problem whatsoever," I said quickly. "There's plenty of
space and I'm sure it'll be good for Channing to have someone other than me
around. Come on, I'll show you where you can throw your things."

	Joey admired the house as we walked, reminding me of when Channing
first arrived. "This house is magnificent," he said. "Beautifully
decorated, too."

	"Thank you."

	He stopped at the same painting that Channing had weeks
prior. Silently, he looked it over, then at me. Then, back to the
painting. Then, back to me. I could almost hear the gears
turning. "No. Way."

	I nodded. "Yup. It's me."

	Joey's face lit up. "You have GOT to be kidding me! Of all the
people in the world, he is staying with YOU? I can't... this is
just... wow! I don't mean to be that guy, but I have adored your work for a
long time!"

	"Channing told me," I laughed, realizing the irony of being
recognized and admired by someone as famous as Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He
alternated between laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. "Let's get
you settled in. While you're here, I'll let you check out the studio."

	"Fantastic!"

	I indicated to the empty room. "This is yours. Feel free to get
settled in. I need to shower as well so as not to offend." I took my leave,
but headed to Channing's room instead of my own. He was still in the
bathroom, so I knocked lightly. "Channing? Can I come in?"

	"Come on in."

	The entire room was enveloped in steam and I could make out
Channing's naked form in the shower. He peeked out from behind the glass,
hair dripping. I felt my groin stir. "What's up?"

	"Nothing. Just wanted to talk... about..."

	He waited expectantly. Then, I realized that I wasn't sure what
exactly I wanted to talk about. Channing took the reins. "If you're worried
about Joey, don't be. He knows I'm into guys, too."

	"Does he?"

	"No. Well, yes. Kind of."

	"Thanks for clearing that up."

	Channing chuckled as he cut off the water and stepped out. I
definitely got hard as I took in his wet body. "Joey is, for all intents
and purposes, straight. But, he is also constantly horny. So, if there's a
guy that wants to get with him, he won't say no."

	"He's an opportunist."

	"Basically," Channing replied, drying off. I mulled that over for a
bit. "So, should I be worried?"

	"How so?"

	I shrugged. "Do you think he's going to try anything... with me?"

	Channing looked as if he hadn't thought of that, then tilted his
head. "I don't know. Maybe. Does that bother you?"

	I answered his question with a question. "Does it bother you?"

	"Why would it?"

	My heart sank a little. I had begun to think that Channing and I
were more than fuck buddies. Maybe, in light of his ending relationship, we
were becoming something like lovers. His response crushed stopped that
train of thought in its tracks. My silence went unnoticed as he pulled on a
pair of boxer briefs. I composed myself and made for the door. "I showed
Joey his room. I'm gonna shower and change."

	"Okay."

	As I left, Channing swatted me on the butt and shot me a smile. I
tried to return it, but it felt fake. I headed to my own room and into the
bathroom, locking the door behind me. I climbed into the shower and turned
the water on as hot as possible.

	As the steaming water poured over me, I chastised myself. I was an
idiot. A full fledged, grade-A moron. Sure, I had been sleeping with
Channing and I could easily see us together. But, there was no reason to
think that he felt the same. For fuck's sake, he was only in my house to
escape his problems. Why on Earth would he add another emotional attachment
to that list?

	I was tired of changing stances on the issue. If Channing didn't
care if I fooled around with Joey, then so be it.

	After my shower, I rummaged through my dresser for something
specific that I hadn't worn in a while. When I finally found them, I
couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the item in my
hands. Technically, they were considered `lounge shorts', but, in reality,
they were like silken running shorts, complete with the slit on the
sides. The inseam itself was about an inch and hid nothing when I sat down.

	I stepped into a pair of briefs, followed by the black shorts and a
tank, then made for the kitchen. Joey and Channing were already there
beginning dinner preparations. As I rounded the corner, they turned to me
and all conversation stopped. Channing's eyebrows slid up his
forehead. Joey nodded, then looked at Channing and snickered. The sound
must have snapped him out of his trance because he cleared his throat and
turned back to Joey.

	"Um... what was I saying?"

	"I have no idea. I wasn't listening."

	"Ass."

	I crossed Channing's path and was not surprised to feel his hands
caress my waist. Ignoring him, I moved to Joey's side. "What are we
making?"

	"Nothing complicated," he replied as he began chopping
vegetables. "A spicy chicken pasta dish."

	"Looks complicated to me," I mused. "Anything you need from me?"

	He shook his head. "You're letting me stay here. It's the least I
can do."

	I rolled my eyes at the repetitive comment as I made for the wine
fridge. "Well, since Joey is gracing us with a spicy culinary masterpiece,
I think we shall start with... a sauvignon blanc."

	Channing pulled wine glasses form the cabinet as I uncorked the
bottle.  Pouring just a sip, I indicated for Joey to be the
tester. However, his hands were preoccupied with raw chicken, so I took the
initiative and brought the glass to his lips. As he drank, I saw the
slightest flicker of movement from Channing: for just a moment, he diverted
his eyes, scratching a spot visible only to him on the counter.

	Joey nodded appreciatively. "That's perfect."

	I filled the glasses generously, which consequently drained the
bottle, and uncorked another. My guests laughed openly at my enthusiasm as
Joey continued his slicing, mixing and cooking. The wine was soon gone from
our glasses, so Channing took it upon himself to refill our drinks. As we
enjoyed another sauvignon, the smells of a wonderful meal began to fill the
kitchen. I forgot about my issues with Channing and I was sure he was
forgetting his own.

	As the dish neared completion, and we neared our fifth bottle, a
devious idea came into my head. Channing was pulling out plates and
silverware, so I nudged Joey and mouthed, "Play along." Then, aloud, "So,
can we try this magical dish now?"

	"Yeah," Channing piped in. "I'm starving."

	Joey rolled his eyes. "Go ahead. It's almost done anyway."

	I grabbed a fork and speared a piece of chicken from its
sauce. Truth be told, it was excellent. When I told Joey as much, he
smiled. "Why thank you, sir."

	As Channing took his sample, I gently nudged Joey in the
ribs. Then, melodramatically, I began scratching my neck. "So, what all is
in there?" I asked. Channing tuned in to the conversation, mouth full of
chicken. Joey shrugged. "garlic, habanero pepper, onion, tomato. Nothing
too fancy."

	I began scratching the other side of my neck, drawing Channing's
eye. His eyebrows furrowed. "Anything else?" I asked Joey.

	"Uh... olive oil, green onions... parsley."

	I feigned surprise. "What? Oh, no. No, no, no."

	Channing was by my side in an instant. "Reagan, what's wrong?"

	"Parsley! That's what's..." I paused, then launched into an
admittedly hokey gasp for air. Panic spread across Channing's face. "Joey!
What did you do!"

	"I didn't know he was allergic!"

	"Oh, fuck! Give me your phone!"

	Joey, ever the actor, searched his pockets. "I don't have it!"

	I continued my gasping and scratching as Channing all but launched
himself over the kitchen island. In his drunken state, he managed to knock
his phone to the floor in his attempt to retrieve it. As he scrambled under
the table for it, I cut the act.

	"Actually, I rather like parsley, but only in moderation."

	Channing sprung up off the floor, phone in hand and face riddled
with confusion. I couldn't help but start to laugh. Joey was right behind
me, clutching his sides. When the truth dawned on our victim, his face
changed to annoyance. "Fuck you both. That wasn't fucking funny!"

	"I have to disagree," Joey chuckled. "I've never seen you move that
fast while drinking."

	"Fuck off. I thought Reagan was dying," he snipped. "And, you'd
better hope you never have a real medical emergency because I'm going to
let you die next time, assholes."

	Joey placed his face next to mine and grabbed my chin. I couldn't
help but notice that his free hand landed on my inner thigh. "Come on,
Chan. You can't stay mad at this boyishly handsome face... and slightly
effeminate hair."

	I whipped my head so fast that I basically head-butted him. "What
is that supposed to mean?"

	Channing basically leapt on the chance to make someone else the
butt of the joke. "He's right, Reagan. Your hair is kinda... girly. Just
saying." I openly gawked at him. "Since when does Mr. 3rd-Rock-From-The-Sun
over here get to make jokes about people's long hair?"

	"I was portraying an alien," he replied. "What's your excuse?"

	My jaw dropped as Channing roared with laughter. I shot him an evil
glare, which promptly made him laugh even harder. "Screw you both. There's
nothing wrong with my long hair. And, it's not even THAT long."

	"If you grew it out, you could be Legolas for Halloween," Channing
suggested.

	I flipped him the bird.

	"Can we just eat?" I griped, running my fingers through my hair. It
only reached halfway down my neck, a reasonable length in my opinion. Plus,
I was usually by myself. Who cared what I looked like?

	As Joey began plating the food, Channing approached me and tangled
his fingers in my hair. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to
mine. "I think you're fine the way you are," he said quietly. I felt my
heart stutter at the sentiment. Then, I playfully shoved him away. "Screw
you. BOTH of you."

	Plates stacked high with pasta and glasses refilled to the brim, we
all made our way into the living room. Channing took the couch and Joey
took the loveseat. In lieu of making any sort of decision, I took the lone
armchair. Even though we turned the television on, our conversation took
over. We talked about the movies the two had made, my art, their friendship
and anything else that came to mind. I was truly enjoying myself and having
a great time.

	Until the question I had been dreading came up.

	"So, Joey, you gotta tell me. How did you get Owen to tell you
where I was?"

	The mood shifted so abruptly that someone might as well have
dropped dead to the floor. Joey slowly set his wine glass down. "He... had
something for you. And, he asked me to deliver it."

	"Okay, so, what is it?"

	Joey took a second to muster himself before he went to his room,
returning with a large manila envelope. He gave me a helpless glance as he
handed it over. Channing tore it open with an endearing ignorance and
reached inside. Enclosed was a stack of papers bound together with one
single sheet loose. As his eyes read each line, his expression fell further
and further.

	"She... she's one hundred percent?"

	Joey nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Chan. She already signed
everything. Once you do the same, it's official."

	The pain in Channing's face was heart wrenching. He hadn't spoken
to me personally about his failing marriage, but I could tell that he had
perhaps a slight hope that it might work out. Now, with the papers in front
of him, it was truly coming to a close. He stared blankly at the divorce
papers in his hand before standing suddenly. "I just need some time alone."

	I moved to say something, not sure what, but Channing blew past me
before I could even get to my feet. I wanted to comfort him, remind him
that this wasn't the end of the world. But, as his door closed, I knew
there was nothing I could say. Joey must have seen the helplessness on my
face because he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "He'll be all right in
time. That guy is tough."

	I had nothing to say to that, so I simply nodded. As we began
cleaning, I could swear that I heard a sob from Channing's room.
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