Date: Wed, 04 Aug 2004 15:36:02 -0400
From: Ryan Gora <remiel78@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kyle and Me - Part 1

Kyle and Me Disclaimer: This story is about men having sex
with men. If that's not your thing or you're too young to
read it, please leave now. The author has no knowledge of
Kyle and Lane Carlson's sexuality, nor that of any other
celebrity that may be mentioned here, and has written this
purely as a work of erotic fantasy fiction. Enjoy!

Kyle and Me

by Remiel78
------------------------------------------------------------

"Exactly, what are you trying to say," I asked.
Don't you hate it when you already know what's been said?
It's pretty obvious what was said.   It doesn't register. I
don't think you want to register. I know I didn't.  It was
definitely one of those times I didn't want it to sink in.
I could feel my eyelids blinking; I still didn't want this
to be reality.  Unfortunately it was.

"Are you breaking up with me?" He should've seen that
question coming.  I could be completely logical at times.

"Maybe," he muttered.  He being Brian, my boyfriend for the
last year and half.  The window was slowly sliding up and
logic was going to be pitched out the window.
"Will..."  Will you stop muttering!  It's what I wanted to
say, but I didn't. My eyes moved from his to something else
I don't know what it was. I think it was one of those
annoying singing basses.  I was quickly losing focus on it.
It became this blur of green and silver.  Or maybe it was me
that was turning green and I was projecting it onto the
fish.  Is that even possible?  Hell if I know.   We were at
the caf‚ in university district.  I guess people tend to
think you won't make a stink if you're in public.   I wanted
to, but I really wanted to hear the reason.
"What?"  He looked at me with those innocent brown eyes, but
there wasn't anything innocent about it.  I wanted to stab
him in the eye.
"Forget it."  I guess there was nothing else to say at the
moment. He said what he wanted to say.  He did what he
wanted to do.  I should've seen this coming shouldn't I?
Does anyone ever see it coming?   There's warning signs.
There's supposed to be warning signs, but I there wasn't
anything.  I'm so in shock right now it hurts.  It's not
even the knife in the heart or the dagger in the gut.  "I
need to go."
"Babe, don't be this way.  You knew this was coming.  I
did," he said.
I think I'm going to be sick. I think I'm going to vomit all
over him right now. It's not going to be the little bit;
it's going to be all over his shoes, his shirt, hell his
face.  I knew this was coming.   I'm not about to get
emotional.  I could feel my mouth open, the tip of my tongue
trace along my the tip of my teeth.  There were words
itching to be said, but I held onto them.  I was attempting
to be the bigger person here.
Ill, so ill, I feel so very ill right now.  If  he says we
can be friends I'm going to take the spoon and gouge his
fucking eye out. It's just that simple.  For a moment I
found myself doing that. I was a fantasy.  I leap over the
table tackle him, forcing the spoon into the eye socket
doing my best to pop that sucker out.
I didn't see anything coming.  Maybe I've been caught up in
other things. Maybe I wasn't paying attention. "Jack, that's
what I saw coming, Brian."  My fingers went to both sides of
my forehead massaging the eyebrows.   I could feel a tension
headache coming on.  I needed out of here.
The words kept rising up, but it wasn't anything I wanted to
say.  Well, I did. There were a lot of things I wanted to
do.  The words thought hey kept hanging out there in my
throat, rising like bile.  That was the problem it felt like
that and it made my stomach twist a little.  I didn't want
it to be like this.  We were good together, at least I
thought we were.  What happened?  Where did it go wrong?
Could it be me?  Of course it had to be, it couldn't be
Brian, right!  I can't deal with this. I don't want to.  He
said it there.  My eyes were starting to burn. The stung
because I was trying to keep the tears in.  He caught me off
guard.  Shaking isn't an option right now.
"Seth."  The tone brought me back. It's the one he used when
he knew that he was in deep shit.  Like it should matter he
was just ended it.  How could I kick his ass over this.  I
just got this idea that there's more. I don't know.  Maybe
there was nothing.  I don't know.
"Just couldn't deal anymore."  The more I stood there and
wondered the more things became a little clear.  There's a
lot on my plate these days, maybe I was blind to everything
that was going on.  I'm not gorgeous and I do have a bit of
a weight problem, I'm chunky.   I've worked on it and it's
been an issue that's been dogging me for a while, for the
good part of my life actually.

It's too good to be true, that's what I told myself, but
after all this time I didn't think it would be an issue.
There were so many things that could go wrong, but they
didn't.   The anger faded, well a bit.  There's nothing else
to say.   "Sorry I wasted your time,"  I managed to say
without letting my voice crack.  Swallowing a couple of
times I turned from the table.  There was so much to look
forward to.
"Seth.I'm,"  he started, but my hand came up and fell
silent. I didn't want to hear it.   Is anyone ever sorry
about the things they do?  About the pain they cause, maybe,
but I really didn't want to think he was sorry about this.
It wasn't a couple of months or a year it was two.  I'm so
not into the ugly break up scene. It's not me.  Is my heart
shattering all over the floor?  Yeah.   Am I mad?  Bet your
ass, but am I about to have some dramatic moment where I
demand answers and pour my heart out in an attempt to win
him back by my undying devotion.
After a long mental pause I feel a rush of wind from the
door shutting behind me.  Guess not. I don't look back. I
can't look back. I shouldn't look back, this moment has such
pillar of salt potential.  So I don't. I just keep walking
trying to figure out where I go from here.

-Six Months Later-

"He what?"  Teresa looked up from the magazine she was
flipping through.  She really wasn't reading it.  Busy work,
idle hands are the devil's playground or something like
that.  "You are so not going.  I forbid you to go."  She
didn't smile, she usually smiled when she said stuff like
that.   She's looking out for me.
"I'm serious," she snapped tossing the magazine at me.  I
threw my hands up in my face.
"Bitch!"
"So!"  Teresa was close to five-five, a hundred forty
pounds, with dark curly hair and dark eyes.  I never called
them deep brown, dark brown, they were just dark eyes.  She
said so much with her eyes and right now they told me that
she was ready to kick my ass.
"What?"   I didn't know if I was going or not. It's only
been six months.   It's sudden, but sometimes you have to
jump on the things you want.  Right?
"Don't what me."  Teresa was on her feet walking over to me.
It was my apartment I could toss her out, and I was bigger,
but she hit hard, pinched hard, everything she did was hard.
Making a impact one would think.  I was still dealing with
the weight issue.  I just wanted to I don't know.  I look in
the mirror and wonder what I see.  I don't know what I see.
I don't know if it has anything to do with being fat.  Fat,
chunky it all means the same to most people.  I stare in the
mirror and wonder about the person who's staring back at me.
Sometimes it's ok to look at and sometimes it's not.  Right
now I could give a rat's ass.
"Terry, I didn't even say if I was going or not.  I don't
know if I'm contemplating it or not."
"Uh huh." She didn't sound convinced. Funny.  Neither did I.
"You're not going.   I told you it's final."
"Such a serious tone you have, Teresa.  Have I been a bad
boy?"  I smirked attempting to lighten the mood, but it
wasn't happening.
I didn't talk to anyone for about a week after it happened.
I didn't know what to say. I was stunned into silence.  Sure
I could speak and talk to people, but what I was going to
say and friends have a way of trying to help when you really
don't want them to.  I'd recover, but I didn't want to be
bothered.   I didn't want to trash anyone or get upset. I
was upset enough.  Friends have a way of taking those levels
to new heights.
"Seth."  Turning towards the couch I let my head rest along
the back of it.  I didn't want to discuss it not right now.
This is all my fault.
"I told you I haven't made up my mind,"  I sighed.
"It's a no brainer, Seth.  Say no.  Commitment ceremony?
What kind of fucked up game is Brian playing,"  she hissed.
"Does Sar know?"
Does Sar know.  What does she think?  If Sar knew she would
know.  So that should tell her no Sar doesn't know, but I'm
guessing she's going to know soon.
I glance at my watch hoping up to my feet.  "I'm late."
"Don't..." she started.
"It's not a lie. I really am late.  I should've been at the
studio thirty minutes ago.  I'm surprised they send someone
out to hunt me down.  Don't get all bent, Terry.  I haven't
decided anything,"  I explained while slipping my sneakers
on. I could wear jeans and a decent shirt.  I loved this
part of the job.  All I needed to do and see how the photo
shoots were going, check the pictures from a previous one
decide which ones to go with and then I was done.  The build
up was a different story, that involved a lot of work,
securing the space, the photographers, the models.  Making
sure everything was ok and that there weren't going to be
any problems.
Teresa's still giving me her `What I say goes' look and I'm
so not dealing with it right now.   "I'll talk to you later
tonight ok."  I give her a kiss on the cheek before she has
a chance to respond.  I hate being late, it's a pet peeve
and this unconscious fear that something special happens
during that space of time.  I know it's a little irrational,
but it's me.
"Lock up before you leave," I call out letting the door
close behind me.   I take the stairs rather than the
elevator.  The shoot's half way across town.  Hitting the
stairs I pull my cell phone hitting Johnny's number.
"You're late," he snarls out.   He always snarls, his snarl
is worse than his bite.  He's really a big pussy cat.
"Tell me something I don't know, Sherlock.  I got held up.
Has the shoot started?"
"Yes."  Someone's in a mood.  He's still snarling.
"I'll be there in less than fifteen."
"You better be."  Cue my eye roll. "Stop rolling your eyes."
I hate it when he does that.  Reaching the bottom I walk out
the back way to where my cars parked.  I get in and try to
make that fifteen minute window.
It doesn't take the long to get there.  I make it in sixteen
minutes.  Walking out of the elevator Johnny was there
tapping his foot and his watch.  It takes real talent to
pull that off. I've told him that once or twice before.
"What?" Everyone keeps giving me looks that say I should
know better.  Better about what?
"You were supposed to be here to do the meet and greet.
People don't want to talk to me, Seth.  They rather talk to
the big cheese."  I stopped looking right at him when he
said that.  I had to make sure there was no venom in that.
"Did you forget to take a pill?"  I was being completely
serious. Ok not completely, but I was pretty close.  That
has to count for something.  He was dressed in pair of black
slacks.  I didn't need to guess who they were by.  The belt
tells me, Prada.  The entire outfit was Prada right down to
the shoes.   Johnny is just about my height and had the
stream line look that most people would die to have.   We've
been friends ever since I started working for LMG, Logan
Media Group.
"Funny."  He wasn't always so serious something's got him
ticked.
"What happened?"
"Nothing.  Just my life is falling apart that's all.  You
know?"  Oh shit. I don't have time for Johnny break down. I
really don't.   It better be something serious.   I swear if
some bull shit I'm going to kick his ass.
"Johnny."  The tone was a mix of things.  Fifty percent was
concern, twenty-five percent represented the stern, ten
percent actually drifted to worry.  Worry is higher than
concern despite their similar nature.  At least that's what
I believe. Five percent was reserved for the absolute worse
and was ready to console and ten percent was there for the
oh shit factor.
"I might have to dump Dante."  Might have to dump Dante?

"What?"  He didn't say anything he just pulled me along to
where they shots were being done.   They hired George Colton
to do the shoots.  We hired that is. I liked his worked and
we've worked with him before.  They wanted someone that was
fun and willing to take a few risks.  Gordon's was looking
for something a little on the new side for their catalog.
I smiled to George when he saw me.  "I know. I know I'm
late."  I glanced towards Johnny waiting for him to get to
the root of things here.  I had pictures to sign off on.
"Look."   George resumed taking a few shoots. It was all
test shoots in various scenes.   He would basically see what
he was working with. Know exactly what he wanted from the
models and build the concepts from there.  They were doing a
fall scene at the moment.  Warm sweaters, earth tones, light
fabric but thick enough to keep you warm.
"And who is the one that's going to replace Dante,"  I ask
him.  Just then a pair of guys walk out and I start laughing
a little. It's not loud, but it's enough to get two sets of
blue eyes turned in our direction.  "You are such a freak."
I say softly nodding towards Lane and Kyle Carlson.   I
hired them, because of their appeal and they did great work
for Abercrombie and Fitch.   I'm surprise we were able to
work something out.
"You don't understand, Seth. I mean come on. When you
weren't here." Johnny started.
"You got to touch them," I teased. I was loving it.  "I need
to catch up." He slipped me a clipboard that contained
various papers and budgets that needed to be signed off on
and a post it with numbers of the pictures that he that was
good.
"Go ogle."   Smirking I head over to the to the table to
look  a couple of things over.  I hear a frustrated sigh and
I keep my mind on my business.  Definitely easy on the eyes,
but he needs to stop. It's just not going to happen.  I mean
come on.
"You know."  My eyes move from the pictures towards George
who's loading up film into his camera. "You would look great
in front of the camera."
"We've had this discussion before, George.  Behind the
scenes. I'm not model material."
"Not what they're looking for, but there's things that you
have to offer.  Your smile.  Your eyes.  You're personable.
People can appreciate that, Seth."  The week after I came to
my senses over being dumped I was pretty raw.  George loved
it. I told him I would crack him over the head with his
camera if he tried to take my picture.
"Perfect shade of chestnut brown," he said looking at my
skin.
"Several shades darker than chestnut," I correct him.  "Stop
trying to milk us for more money, George or I'm going to
start negotiating for flat fees on the slim side."  He
grinned at me and went about his work.
I don't know how many pictures that they took, but I know it
lasted another two hours. Everyone had packed up.   We had
the place for another two weeks.  No need to break
everything down.   Johnny kept giving me so many looks that
I threatened to tell Dante about his knew `love.'  He called
me a whore.  We're having lunch tomorrow.
Walking out I headed towards the elevator listening to
George talk about another project that he's working on.  "I
think you would be interested in this, Seth."
"Promoting?"
"No, you'd be apart of it. It's different."
"George, I told you." He looked at me and I relented.
George has to be close to fifty. He's been in the business
for a while.  He hasn't always done fashion, well that's to
say that his work isn't limited to fashion.  He's well
respected.  He has the entire silver fox thing going on with
the hair and it works for him.
"Go."  That's me speak for him to pitch his idea.
"You need something more than, this.  You need something
that you can be proud of."  But I am proud of the things I
do and he knows it. I know what he means though.  "You need
to enjoy life.  You need."  I was going to let him finish
until I realize I was missing my cell phone and I left a
couple of papers behind.
"George..." He looked at me and I fell silent.
"I want you to be happy, Seth."  I nodded.   Happy was
entirely different thing.
"Let me think about it ok."  He seemed satisfied with that
as the elevator doors opened.   "I need to go back in, left
a few things inside. I'll be alright."  I let the doors
close and headed back to the studio.  It was locked on the
outside.   I pulled out the keys and let myself in making
sure that the outside was locked up.
Walking across the studio I found my cell phone and papers.
I was about to head out when I heard something around the
wall, probably one of the models.  Walking towards it I was
about to tell them I was headed back out, didn't want them
getting spooked or anything.  Coming around the corner I
froze at what I saw.
Kyle Carlson stood there with his back to me dropping his
towel.  I didn't say anything, but heard my foot falls.
"Hey Lane." When he turned at waist he stopped talking, but
here was a smile on his face.  "I thought."  I wasn't
speaking so that caused him to stop speaking.
"I'm sorry." My eyes went down to the floor and I could feel
the heat at my cheeks. I wanted to touch them, but that
would be really lame.   "Just..."
"Why," he said in a soft tone.   I swear he was closer.
"Why what," I answered.
"Why are you sorry?"  I raised my head up a little and found
myself face to face with a set of blue eyes, eyes that were
for some reason were staring into my brown ones.   "I'm
not."

TO BE CONTINUED
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