THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
William

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.


PROLOGUE

"Don't be shy, Ethan. You know you want to join in."

Ethan Hawke crossed his arms and scowled. "No," he said in a final
tone, daring anyone to disagree with him.

"Yes, I know it's hard that the other members of the board went
ahead with this despite your objections," Freddie Prinze, Jr told
him. "I normally won't do something like this, but the Celebrate
Camp Festival is for a good cause, Ethan. Proceeds to AIDS
research, counseling and support for gay teens, and sex education
in schools are all good, and more importantly, it makes the
Brigadiers head above its closest rivals when it comes to being an
important figurehead in the arts scene."

"I don't know, Freddie," Ethan said, sitting down heavily. "I
started this because I just wanted a place for people to perform
arts without being troubled by self-imposed censorship and whims
of the patrons or politicians. But now, the Brigadiers are
performing some mainstream shit I won't be caught dead associating
my name to."

"We need money to run the institute, Ethan," Freddie told his
friend. They had this talk many times before, and while Freddie
sympathized with Ethan, he was pragmatic enough to know that you
cannot become successful and still remain cutting edge. He was
counting the days when Ethan would resign and return to his roots.
He knew there were many artists that would defect to whichever
venture Ethan would set up next. Freddie would follow the man as
well. He enjoyed being one of the busier managers of the
institute, but he had his other job - financial advisor and
consultant - to think about and the Brigadiers were eating too
much into his day job. He looked forward to starting small again,
radical and exciting, with Ethan. "With the Brigadiers so popular
and mainstream - " Freddie smiled as Ethan shuddered visibly at
the word 'mainstream' - "we cannot function without considering
what the media and the politicians would think of us."

"I've tendered my resignation," Ethan announced. He studied
Freddie's placid expression. "You know I will do this."

"I've expected it, yes."

"I have only begged one man before in my life, and that's Doc. And
I'm begging you now, Freddie. I want you to be with me when I
start another center. This time we'll not repeat our mistakes and
become too big," said Ethan earnestly. "Will you come with me,
Freddie?"

"Yes, of course! What have I to lose?" Freddie told Ethan. "That
makes it more vital that you play a bigger role in this Celebrate
Camp Festival, Ethan. Leave with a bang - remind them that all
this started with your vision."

"But... singing Broadway music and ABBA tunes?" Ethan made a
choking sound. "I'd probably puke on stage. Won't that be a
fucking vision?"

"At least give a speech."

"Where I can tell them to go to hell?"

"You do know that is why they love you, don't you?" said Freddie
with a grin. "You're so defiantly counterculture, always doing
what no one else is doing, and not caring what they think of you."
After a wildly successful ballet production that Ethan considered
his biggest mistake in his career, Ethan had, against his critics'
prediction, remained a darling of the art critics years after he
had stopped being a fad and his fame ebbed to a more normal level,
much to Ethan's relief.

"Well, they almost drove me to my old suicidal ways when they made
a Hallmark movie from my autobiography." The autobiography was
another mistake according to Ethan's estimation. The book was a
dark and too honest account of Ethan's life, written at the final
stages of his battle with alcoholism, drug addiction, and
depression as a final exorcism on his part. He expected that no
one would care. Instead, his unashamed outpouring of his
increasing obsession and devotion to his shrink only earned Ethan
a romantic Byronic reputation. He sacked his agent for selling
movie rights to the book without actually talking to him about it
first.

Freddie studied the sheet of paper in his hand closely for the
first time since he received it earlier this evening. A name
caught his eye. He reread it again, and burst out laughing when he
realized that he had not misread the name.

"What the fuck is it?" Ethan asked sourly.

"I think someone - Doc? Danny? - played a trick. You're listed
here to perform in the ABBA medley in the second act."

Ethan paled at the news.



ONE

Ronan Keating was down with a severe sore throat and high fever
and his lover Stephen Gately decided to pull out to tend to Ronan.
Both of them sent a very nicely worded apology with regrets but
that meant that Guy Pearce was missing a baritone and a tenor to
perform a series of modified two-piece choral pieces of Anton
Bruckner. Guy could step in if he could - he could play more
musical instruments than any other person and he could handle
vocals from the lower ranges of second bass to the upper ranges of
first tenor. But he was charged with managing behind the scenes so
the last thing he needed was to juggle rehearsals into his packed
schedule.

Will Robert Young stopped singing when he saw Guy walk into the
piano room. Not that anyone was using the piano. The choral piece
was performed acapella and the only music in the room came from
Will's radio playing the original version of Gradual. Following
Guy was a really cute guy that made Will pause and take a second
look.

The first impression Will had of this hunk was that the hunk had
dark brown neat straight hair that made him seem to absorb light
despite the well-lit brightness of the piano room. The dimples
were killers along with those bedroom eyes, and the square jaw and
military-like posture of the man made Will think that maybe all
those bad military porn he'd the misfortune to watch had some
merits after all. The man's well-formed musculature was evident in
those thickly muscled upper arms nicely displayed in a sleeveless
basketball top. Ditto those legs in khaki shorts that ended around
his knee.

The second impression Will had was that this hunk was probably
very straight. He didn't have a good ping for his fellow queer
folks like some of his friends, but it was a safe bet that someone
that obviously came from a basketball match was most likely a
relative of one of the predominantly gay or bisexual members of
this center. The man didn't cast any curious glances at the men
that walk past the door, including the almost unearthly beautiful
Jude Law that was laughing in his devastatingly charming way as
Jude carried his keyboard and walked with his friends in their
band to practice in the room down the hall. Everyone with a pulse
that liked men looked at least twice at Jude Law, but this
stranger just looked around the room instead as if he had never
been in a musical room before. Which was likely - this stranger
had "jock" screaming from every inch of him. He reminded Will of
those determinedly straight guys in the football team in high
school that would freak out at anything even a little gay. Will
with some regret crossed this hunk off his imaginary harem. He
never considered straight-acting males as the ideal type and
chased after straight guys like some gay men he knew and he didn't
intend to join the ranks of those constantly heartbroken men any
time soon.

"Will, you're sounding good," Guy said. "Here's Jesus Hernandez.
He just signed up to be a baritone to your tenor. Come on, Jesus -
"

"Call me Jay," the man said. He sounded uncomfortable as he looked
at Will in what seemed like a mildly unnerved expression. Will
hoped that Jay wouldn't have issues working with an openly gay
guy. "I... uh, I've never actually done anything like this
before."

"This is your first time singing?" Guy asked skeptically.

"I mean, I don't usually sing outside the shower."

"Never mind, we all start somewhere," Guy said kindly. To Will, he
said, "I've had Jay sing a few notes, and he's a bass. Bruckner
will be magic with you two doing the male parts."

Jay looked blank.

"Can you read music notes?" Will asked gently, showing Jay the
sheaves of paper in question.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Jay said softly. "I'm really not
like you guys..."

"Well, we all need to start somewhere," Guy told Jay firmly, not
wanting to let this man go now that he had found a replacement for
Ronan Keating. "Will can teach you everything you need. He writes
music and teaches piano and voice classes to spoiled rich kids all
over the city."

"Thanks a lot, Guy," Will said. "Well, Jay, it's pretty easy. I'll
show you how to read the notes and then we'll get you to hit the
notes."

"I'll leave you two alone," Guy said. "I have to talk with Danny
and the boys about their set."

Will and Jay watched Guy dash from the room. Uncomfortable silence
descended in the room for a few seconds as they studied each
other. Will had to suppress a keen disappointment that Jay was
really starting to look like a classic case of a straight guy
caught in an environment he was unfamiliar with. He knew how that
felt. He was the only male in his large family of females (his
father died when he was two and his mother never remarried) until
his older sisters got married and had kids, and even then, he was
never comfortable with her sisters' husbands. They and he had very
little in common and he suspected that they tolerated him only
because he was their wives' baby brother. It was his remembering
how awkward it felt to be alienated that prompted Will to smile
his best grin and pushed the musical sheets across the table to
Jay. He sat behind the piano and lifted the cover. "Do you know
the 'Do Re Mi' song from The Sound of Music?" he asked
conversationally.

"Man, that's a fucking awful movie."

A breeder, definitely, Will thought. It was a pity, really, even
though he really, really tried very hard not to dwell on it.






TWO

Will didn't really know how or why, but Jay and he found a kind of
chemistry between them that was almost organic in how natural and
comfortable it was. Jay came from a military background, as Will
suspected, and he was an army brat until he graduated from college
and settled down in Miami to start a business with his brothers.
Will raised a brow in surprise when he learned that Jay was one of
the six co-owners of the third largest demolition firm in the
country. You couldn't get any more macho than that, surely?

Jay liked basketball and fast bikes and he was an active
participant in the country's motor-cross circuit during his annual
vacation. He cited his favorite musicians as Prodigy and OutKast
and his CD selection was an eclectic mix of hardcore hip hop to
heavy garage. Will knew this because he and Jay practiced on
weekends at Jay's penthouse apartment, a place three times bigger
than Will's rented flat and so luxuriously furnished that Will was
almost afraid to step on the floor in fear of cracking the shiny
smooth marble. There were also many, many photos of gorgeous women
all around Jay's place - skinny model-like women, curvy beautiful
women, ordinary women, all immortalized in intimate embraces or
playful postures with the handsome hunk himself.

Will wasn't the only one convinced that Jay was straight. Their
straight female friends - always ready to check out the few
straight men that ventured into their world - cooed, flattered,
and flirted with him so outrageously that Will was too amused to
be jealous. Okay, maybe he was jealous a little, but he was only
human. Jay obviously enjoyed their attention and flirted
outrageously back, although Will was with him often enough to
notice that he took care to never make sure that these women got
too close to him to get the wrong ideas.

On the other hand, while Jay might be a womanizing hardcore music
fan that confessed to be once heavily into the recreational drug
and party scene, Will couldn't be any more different. Will had six
long relationships in his twenty-four years, not counting a few
temporary indiscretions when he was in between boyfriends, his
music tastes were rather clich‚d in that he liked classical and
stage music, and he hated speed and dangerous sports.

But it was with Will that Jay hanged out with after rehearsals.
Even Will's friends began to remark three weeks after Jay came
into Will's life that he and Jay seemed to be able to second guess
and complement each other. "Will you - " Will only had to ask and
Jay would have already passed him the salt, to cite a frequent
example. When Will was frustrated at the way rehearsal was going,
Jay always had some jokes cheesy enough to make Will laugh.

Jay, a quick study, soon mastered the basic of vocal performance
and he was able to catch most of the notes he was supposed to hit
in the short time they had him working on the choral pieces. Will
began looking forward to evenings when he would leave the music
school he worked at to meet Jay and to sing with him. The night
guard often had to remind them that it was eleven in the evening
and everyone had gone home before they returned back to earth from
their private world of music and laughter.

"Why do you come here?" Will asked during the third week. "I mean,
why sing the kind of music you are not familiar with? Why not join
a hip hop band or something?"

"I like this kind of music, as you call it," Jay said. They sat on
the roof of the building, watching the night sky and the streets
below, Will not wanting to go home yet and Jay apparently content
to do the same. "I heard what I know now is Mozart sometime during
my high school prom and I really liked it. I feel as if I'm
transported into a different world, you know?"

"A world where sounds are pure and soothing and nothing else
matters?" suggested Will. "I always feel as if I'm enveloped by
some warm cocoon of aural bliss when I listen to Bach. The
passion, the feelings conveyed by the friction of strings and the
rush of wind through hollowed wind instruments - surely such
magical sounds from such simple action suggests the presence of a
divine being."

"Well, yeah, only you put it better than I could," Jay said. He
caught Will shivering slightly as a cool breeze blew, and he took
off his jacket and placed it on Will. "A few months ago I was
fucked up. I wanted to die because my father passed away. I've
never lost anyone before, Will, and I can't bear losing my father.
I thought he would live forever, you know? Anyway, that night I
somehow turned into some classical music station and that's when I
remember how I felt that night at prom, like I'm floating in some
peaceful white light and the world is quiet. I slept without
dreaming after that and when I woke up, I told myself I am never
letting go of this feeling or the music. I want to sing the
music."

He turned to look into Will's eyes, an intense and penetrating
searing gaze that made Will shiver because Will thought his soul
was drowning into this man's eyes. And maybe it was - surely he
was falling in love with this man as the days passed. Not because
Jay was cute, but because Jay made him laugh and their singing had
him believing that music was never this beautiful or tranquil. He
once believed that music was a pleasure best experienced solo in
his favorite room with his eyes closed and with all sounds from
the outside world muted as much as possible. Now, he slept to the
sounds of Jay's rich bass washing over his senses like rich honey.

"I really enjoy singing with you," Jay said.

And Will wondered how this man seemed to be able to read his mind
yet remain unattainable.

Misreading Will's shiver, Jay casually placed his muscular arm
around Will and pulled the man closer to his sturdy body. Will was
only human; he rested his cheek on Jay's steady right pectoral
muscle. He didn't know how cold he was until the heat of Jay's
body suffused through fabric into Will's skin and system. Will
inhaled softly and Jay's clean scent of skin and male musk forced
him to swallow a groan of desire.

"The world is so quiet," Will whispered softly.

Jay began singing the first few lines of Gradual. Will added in
his part and they remained like this, looking at each other as
they completed each other and the music, enjoying the silence,
enjoying the music, the world around them forgotten for now.

"I want us to keep being friends after the Celebrate Camp
Festival," Jay said. "Say yes, Will, please."

Will decided that he couldn't blame himself for falling in love
with this man. He doubted that even angels could withstand this
absolutely perfect man who was slowly becoming what Will feared
was the missing parts of his soul.




THREE

Jay pulled up and stopped the car by the side of the road in the
middle of nowhere. They had driven out of town for who knew how
long and how far. Will wasn't keeping track - he was enjoying
himself too much laughing and talking with Jay during the drive.

Jay had asked Will that weekend to help him start a classical CD
collection. The evening turned into one of the most enjoyable
evenings Will ever had. Jay had twirled him on the floor to the
sounds of OutKast and Will laughed in an exuberant abandon he had
rarely felt while the staff of the CD store watched on in
amusement. They ate sandwiches and shared stories about their
lives. And then Jay drove while listening to the Kate Bush and
Indigo Girls CDs Will bought.

Kate Bush's ethereal vocal, which Jay was firmly in love with at
the end of the drive, was heartbreaking as she sings about her
insecurities and the burdens of love when Jay left the radio on,
opened the car door, and nodded at Will to get out. And Will
thought that it was indeed heartbreaking. His heart was breaking
from the wild hope that an erotic interlude would result from
tonight and the fervent prayer that it wouldn't. He didn't know
what he wanted. He only knew that he was in love and he knew his
heart would break from this impossible love.

"Listen - it's so silent," Jay shushed Will as he took Will's hand
in his.

And Will listened. The night was silent except for the soft chirps
of night insects, a distant roar of a vehicle, Kate Bush, and the
pounding of his heart so loud that he feared that Jay would hear.

"What are we doing here?" Will whispered, not willing to break the
tranquility, as Jay led him down a path among the undergrowth.

"My secret hideout," Jay said.

It was a pool. Will groaned. Please no, not this. Not - yikes!
Will closed his eyes as Jay pulled off his shirt. "I don't skinny
dip," he said. It was true, he never did it, and he wouldn't do it
now, not with Jay. He wasn't insane.

"Suit yourself."

There was a soft splash. Will opened his eyes. Sure enough, Jay's
clothes were a pile on the ground. He looked around, anywhere but
the pool, wondering what he ought to do now. And it was then he
realized that Jay was making no sound. It was quiet, too quiet.
"Jay!" he yelled as he ran towards the pool, imagining the man
drowning or worse. "Jay, where are you?"

Jay laughed as he pounced, grabbing Will's waist from behind with
a "Gotcha!" They fell heavily to the ground, and Will realized
that Jay's wet and very naked body was pressed against his. It was
enough to freeze his rational thoughts. Lust took over, and he was
kissing Jay. Jay was kissing him back, touching him, rough and
beautiful hands exposing Will's skin until Will choked in pain as
Jay's thick cock slowly filled him. They moved together on the
ground, slowly at first, savoring the rhythm, only to increase the
face faster and more urgently as desire flamed and crested, until
their world exploded in a shattering climax.



"You owe me an explanation," Jay said quietly when Will opened his
door. "When I woke up, you're gone."

"I managed to flag a cab," Will said weakly.

"Why did you leave me?" Jay asked.

"What can I do? You gave me a pity screw," said Will. Seeing Jay's
expression, he explained, "Come on, Jay, you know as well as I do
that you're straight. And everyone knows I am attracted to you, no
doubt you do too. I can only think that you fucked me because I am
so in love with you that it must show and you feel sorry for me. I
need time to think and..." Will sobbed. "I want to know how to
make our friendship okay again."

"Two things, Will," Jay told him as he placed his arm on the
doorway, preventing Will from closing the door should the man
chose to. "One, I love you. Two, what makes you think I am
straight?"

"Everyone thinks so."

"Because I like sports and I don't like musicals and Streisand?
Stereotyping much, no?" teased Jay.

"And those photos of your girlfriends - "

"And they are my girlfriends, in the sense that we are good
friends that hang out, talk about guys, and have fun together,"
Jay explained. "I've never slept with a woman, Will."

"Those photos - "

"Are as bad as that photo of you, Guy, and some guys wearing
skimpy thongs looking as if you have your hands all over each
other during the 1998 Gay Parade. But you don't sleep with each
other, do you?"

"Point taken, Jay," said Will. He closed his eyes. "I'm such a
fool," he groaned.

"Well, we've talked and made things clear now. I love you and you
love me back," said Jay tenderly. "We make each other's world a
little more peaceful and beautiful. I will teach you to love hip-
hop and you will be my choir buddy. Marry me, Will, be mine and
make me the happiest man on earth."

Will sighed. He ought to control his tears as he wanted to
remember Jay's face and everything about this moment with as much
clarity as possible. "I will be honored to be yours, Jay."

Jay smiled. "As I will be yours, always."





EPILOGUE

"Not going back?" Freddie asked as he paused at the doorway of
Ethan's office. "The party's long over and everyone sane has gone
home."

Ethan looked up from his inscrutable contemplation at his desk. He
just bit his lower lip and remained silent.

"The Festival was a success."

"It was awful," Ethan spoke finally. "It is everything I despised:
overly showy and calculated to pander to the current camp revival.
Thankfully, there's the relatively sane classical music interlude
to keep me from ripping my eyeballs out of my sockets. And fuck,
me singing in that disgusting ten minute musical!"

"You're not bad at all." Freddie tried not to laugh. "Your
improvisations improved the musical. That line about sodomizing
Fernando in a church is a hit with the crowd."

"I gotta send something to that happy couple Jay and Will, I
guess."

Freddie shrugged. "You should, I guess. This Festival isn't such a
loss after all, if two people get together because of it."

"I guess." Ethan was quiet for a few seconds. "I will miss this
place," he confessed.

"You can always come back for quick visits."

"Yeah, I guess. I won't miss the fucking awful shit like the
Festival, but I will miss the atmosphere. Standing there and
watching as Jay and Will kiss and announce that they're gonna...
well, it's nice."

"So you're still resigning?" asked Freddie.

"I am. But it's a harder decision than I expected." Ethan
reluctantly got on his feet. "Is Doc still sleeping on the coach?"

"Doug is holding him as he pukes into the sink."

"I should be the one holding him," Ethan murmured. "I guess I
better go get him."

Freddie walked away. Ethan gave his office one last look, sighed
one last time, switched off the light, and shut the door behind
him.
