THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Samuel
Disclaimer: This story is fictitious and any resemblance to anyone dead or alive is coincidental.
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ONE
Jacob Benjamin Gyllenhaal had three things he wanted to do before he turned thirty: he wanted to marry Samuel Elliot Page, he wanted to run his own business, and he wanted to have at least three good friends he could count on. He was content with his moderately successful deli, especially since he had just opened the deli two months ago. He was sure he had four friends he talked to regularly and he was certain he could count on them in times of need. But he was still thwarted when it came to Sam.
It was a Sunday afternoon and business was usually slow on Sundays since the offices nearby were closed. As a result, Jake took time off to join the group of men seated at the table. They were newspaper people, not journalists but people that worked behind the scenes, and they never stopped working, as the news needed to be edited and polished for publication every day. But on Sundays, they took lunch longer than usual. In their business, the proper keyword to this is "power lunching".
Marc Blucas, a junior editor who was working his way up the ranks due to his affability and diligence, was talking to Scott Wolf, the junior editor of the entertainment pages who was just transferred to the business pages. (Scott was still wondering whether he had been promoted or demoted. He lacked Marc's way with people and had difficulties even considering taking part in office politics.) Despite Scott having started in the New York Times a few years earlier than Marc, Marc now was the one showing Scott how to navigate the landmine-filled scene of his new department. In a way, Scott was very lucky - Marc would be a loyal and open colleague as he was to everyone, and he would make sure that Scott would ease into his new role with little difficulties.
After all, you didn't get demoted from the prime cushion positions at the social and entertainment pages unless you had pissed off somebody big.
But on Sunday, work could wait. Marc and Scott were discussing a piece they were working on - gay men in business - but today, they decided to enjoy themselves with the age old leisure activity: gossip. Jake was reeled in because his beloved Mr Page was one of the main topics of discussion.
"So who's gonna win the feeding frenzy?" Scott, a somewhat stocky and boyish man, asked. "Poor Sam," he added. "It must be tough seeing one's business empire crumble."
"It surely wasn't his fault," Jake declared loyally. "One man doesn't destroy an entire business."
The other men grinned indulgently at him. "Probably. Finances were already shaky from years of mismanagement when Sam took over from his father. The fact that two-thirds of the main shareholders were his father's people couldn't have made it easier on the poor man. The stock market crash was the nail in the coffin," Matt said.
"I don't think there would be many that would be heartbroken," Scott said. "Carmen informed me that her interviews showed that at least four men are fighting over what's left of the Page business empire. It's odd, isn't it? I thought the company is finished."
"Not really," Marc corrected him. Quietly he made a note to pass some of his economics textbooks to Scott. The man wouldn't last if he kept being this naïve about the economy. "Don't forget that Sam still has the name and the wide range of networking. Sam has also invested in the business of Travis Schuldt. You know him, surely, Scott? No? Travis is a strange man in that he worked at home, had no office, but he was one of the most powerful men in America when it came to trade in China and Southeast Asia - places where the money was in Asia. By this default, anyone who owns Page will also be able to enjoy Travis' connections to break into the markets in those countries."
"Why doesn't Travis just buy out Page?" Scott asked.
Marc's spoon clattered onto the table. "I never thought of that," he said finally. "Yeah, why didn't he? Travis and Sam went quite a way back, if I recall correctly."
That was it, Jake realized. This was one way he might help Sam.
Marc and Scott talked about the fight for Sam's properties and holdings and speculated on the person that might emerge more victorious than the other. But Jake stopped listening and began planning in his head.
He would help Sam. Sam generously loaned Jake the money to rent this place from Rupert Everett in the daytime to start his business (Rupert only opened from six in the evening to three in the morning, so Jake could use this place during the day). He felt guilty for accepting the loan, since now Jake knew that Sam was having financial difficulties when he signed the check to Jake, and maybe now Jake could find a way to repay the man for his kind gesture.
"Do you know where I can find Travis Schuldt?" he asked the two men.
Marc looked questioningly at Jake.
"It's worth a shot. Sam is my friend."
"Really? Small world," Scott said, studying Jake over.
"A smaller world than you think," Marc commented absently as he removed his pen from his shirt pocket and reached for a napkin. As he wrote, he said, "My nephew Jared is friends with Travis' boyfriend. Here is the address to Travis' place, but it will be easier if you let me talk to Jared first. Jared can get Eddie to persuade Travis to see you. Here's my number, call me tomorrow evening and I'll update you on how it goes with my talk with Jared."
"You're a very helpful bastard, Marc," Scott said in genuine admiration.
"I just want to see a member of the family succeed, that's all," Marc answered. "We should all stick together and help each other out, that's what I always believe."
Jake took the napkin Marc had written on and clutched it to his chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Maybe it was. If he could never win Sam's affections, he would at least say he had helped the man in his time of need. That was what friends were for, right?
TWO
His life was falling apart and he was helpless to prevent it. Samuel Page sat in his office, the lights switched off so that he could brood in absolute darkness, and wondered whether he could find the strength to blow his brain out with the gun he had placed beside his right elbow on the table. All this time, he had worked so hard to show his parents that he was as good as they expected him to be and more. What use was there? He tried so hard, but in the end, he couldn't do anything to save the business.
He kept quiet as his parents blamed him for a mess they started and expected him to clean up, just as he kept silent when they accused him of disappointing them when he came out of the closet on his twentieth birthday. Ah, Tim, he thought savagely, remembering his college professor and lover that inspired him come out that year. He thought he was in love with Tim and he would live with Tim for the rest of their lives. What a fool he was. Tim decamped the moment Sam's father offer to donate a huge amount of money to Tim's department provided Tim removed himself from Sam's life.
He had always been silent all these years, the obedient son who tried so hard to be what everyone wanted him to be.
Yet at the first sight of trouble, these same people abandoned him without a backward glance. His parents had always favored his younger siblings who weren't gay, and now they acted as if he was a diseased limb they would love to amputate if they could. His boyfriend left him a Dear John letter almost a week ago, accusing him of being cold and unfeeling, but Sam suspected that his potential bankruptcy might be the actual reason for the man's departure. Most of his friends refused to call him or acknowledge his calls.
Sam was so tired of being alone, but he never realized how much he was feeling weary until now. His family never wanted him, he had no friends, and his own life was ruined. Maybe it was stupid of him to pump his own life savings into trying to save this business, but he did just that. He was bankrupt in all but name only.
Not really, a voice in his head reminded him. Jake Gyllenhaal owed him thirty thousand dollars. Sam could sue for that money. But he wouldn't. Jake was an amusing young man, a friend of his younger brother, and while Sam wasn't sure why he loaned Jake the money, he liked Jake because Jake was earnest and dreamy. Maybe a bit strange too, but Sam knew that Jake came from a background different from his. His younger brother Aaron was the only one still talking to Sam, but Aaron was a liberal activist currently in Alaska protesting the drilling of oil there. Since Aaron was the closest Sam had to a family and Jake was Aaron's friend, he liked Jake. Maybe he even pitied Jake, because he suspected that Aaron wasn't as close to Jake than Jake would have loved to believe. Aaron's first love was activism. Hell, Sam suspected that Jake was a charity case for Aaron. Befriending a penniless high schoolmate was something Aaron would do out of some misguided guilt of his own upper class status.
The phone rang, and Sam was thankful for the interruption of his bleak musings. "Hello?" His voice sounded like hell even to his own ears.
"Called your home but got your answering machine. I knew you'd be at the office." It was Travis Schuldt, the Vampire as he was called because of his eccentric tendency to sleep during the day and work only at night. "I thought you'd be interested to know that I just had an interesting visitor, Jake Gyllenhaal. He came here to ask me to buy you out of your misery."
Shock was a hard punch in the gut for Jake. Once the initial shock wore off, there was a disturbingly warm heat of pleasure in his heart, threatening to drive away the ice in his soul. "Jake asked you to help me out?" he asked just to be certain.
"Yeah. I told him it's not that simple, but he made a convincing case. Look, Sam, I'm sorry I refused to help you, I had to take care of my own interests - "
"Yeah, nothing personal," Sam echoed bitterly.
"But Jake's right. You're my friend, Sam, and I should try to help you. Can I come down tomorrow and talk to you about this?"
Travis sounded contrite. "What did Jake say to you?" Sam had to ask.
"Nothing but the usual hackneyed nonsense about friendship and trust and being there through thick and thin. But he's close to tears, Sam. That man must care for you a lot if he can cry for a cold fucker like you. He makes me feel ashamed," Travis said before trailing away, his own thoughts as confused as Sam's at the moment. Finally, he just said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning," before hanging up.
"Thank you." The words came out in a rush. Sam tried to speak slower. It wasn't easy. "Thank you, Jake," he said, this time his voice unsteady as his heart seemed to be breaking and the agony was killing him, making him feel alive. He walked into the man's apartment, and Jake, surprised, moved out of the way.
Sam took in the apartment. It was small but surprisingly homely. A nice smell of something baking completed the picture of homeliness. He sat down on the couch. It was a comfortable couch. Everything was comfortable. Sam smiled despite himself. It was wonderful knowing that there was someone who would slay his dragons for him.
"Why are you here?" Jake asked, absently shutting the door behind him.
"Thank you, Jake, for talking to Travis." It seemed such an inadequate statement compared to what Sam was feeling. "Thank you." God, he was coming off like an idiot. "Thank you." He'd shut up now.
Jake just smiled, and Sam found himself struck by the feline-like beauty of that smile. For an instant, Jake's nondescript face could be considered beautiful. When Jake's smile faded, Sam found himself missing it with a keenness that disturbed him.
"I'll get you a drink," Jake just said before heading to the kitchen.
Why did Sam feel as if Jake was fleeing from him? He frowned. He was a nice guy. He'd show Jake that he could be a nice guy like Aaron.
Jake wanted to help him. It was pathetic, but Sam had nobody who treated him this way before - someone who tried to help him. Even if Jake was doing this out of gratitude for the loan Sam gave him, it was enough. On his drive here, Sam had mentally categorized Jake as a friend. Sam hadn't had any real friends before, but from today, he swore that he would be one worthy of Jake. He would be Jake's best friend in the world.
THREE
"Good morning sunshine," Sam said as he walked into the kitchen. He tapped Jake on the shoulders awkwardly, a too-brief contact that sent suffuses of warm pleasure from where Sam's hand touched his shoulder down his spine to flood his loins. Muscular, tall, and gorgeous, Sam seemed oblivious to the way he was affected Jake.
Jake wished he had worn underwear under his dressing gown. He was already getting hard.
Last night was... how could he describe last night? They were both awkward and self-conscious, he of how attractive the man was sitting beside him and Sam, well, Sam just seemed unsure of how he was supposed to react. Watching late night cable over cold sandwiches and hot chocolate seemed like a bad idea, but surprisingly, it helped break the ice. Sam laughed over bad TV commercials starring faded TV stars and they had a good laugh picking apart and arguing over movies as they watched some of the worst shows on Masterpiece Science Theatre. Jake had pushed his luck by resting his cheek on Sam's muscular pectoral, and Sam delighted him by running his fingers through Jake's hair, until Jake realized that the man had fallen asleep and Sam was touching him probably out of instinct.
Jake couldn't resist slowly pulling up Sam's shirt to sigh at the sight of those fine, taut muscles of his stomach and the tempting furry trail leading from the man's navel. He wanted so badly to touch, but in the end he pulled the shirt back down and closed his eyes as he rested on Sam's chest, imagining that they were a loving couple enjoying some quiet time together.
He had fallen in love with Sam the moment he visited Aaron and saw this powerful, forbidding man. Sam was a romantic fantasy came true: a loner, a hurt and tortured man who needed love, and a darkly handsome man with a harsh, devilish visage all in one.
Jake had fled the party that day to sulk in the gardens because he knew he didn't fit in with the rest of Aaron's friends and because he was sure that Aaron's family hated him for being poor. He had encountered this handsome man who was standing in the greenhouse and naively assuming that the man was another guest bored as Jake was, Jake struck up a conversation. Somehow Jake found himself blabbing about Aaron's family.
"I hear the father is an asshole," the stranger said.
"Actually, I heard that he cheated on his wife," Jake confided without thinking.
"I bet," the stranger said. "The mother looks like a bitch, doesn't she?"
Jake nodded happily, glad to have someone to talk to. Only when Aaron walked in and greeted Sam as his brother did Jake wanted to die on that spot. But Sam seemed cool with Jake and he even danced with Jake. In Jake's eyes, Sam was the most amazing man he'd ever seen.
And now, Sam was in his apartment. Jake was terrified as opposed to being delighted. What would Sam do now? Jake dared not imagine, although he had ideas, ideas that caused his cock to grow as hard as a burning brand of iron. He was glad that he was seated and his cock, thrusting up from his crotch to press against the underside of the table, was hidden from Sam's view. He was so painfully aroused just by Sam's proximity that he had to surreptitiously press his cock hard against the rough wooden underside of the table just to ease the lusty ache.
"Coffee?" Sam asked as he opened the lid of the mug. He made a soft sound of pleasure as he took in the fragrant aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Jake's parents didn't leave him much money, but they taught him how to make the best sandwiches, cakes, and coffee in town. "I could drink this every morning," he said after gulping down a mug full.
"I can make some for you and send it to your office," Jake offered. His brain shut down by lust, he had no idea what else to day.
"I'll probably take you up on that. Can you pass me the papers?"
Jake absently stood up to reach for the papers - and wanted to die when his erection popped up in full view before Sam. "I - " he wanted to say something, but at that moment, the sash of his robe came undone and the heavy fabric fell back, baring his entire frontal to Sam. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry," he began to say as heat and embarrassment caused his eyes to tear.
Sam was silent for a few seconds. Then, his voice slightly unsteady, he said, "No, don't be," quietly, his eyes never leaving Jake's cock, before getting onto his feet. But instead of leaving like Jake expected him to, he just pulled his shirt off before getting onto his knees before Jake. And then his mouth was closing over Jake's cock, and Jake lost all strength in his legs.
He had to hold on to the table for support as Sam worshipped his cock. The man sucked and licked at the tip, coaxing forth pleasures of the most refined agony from Jake until he couldn't believe the foul and lusty curses coming from his own mouth. He came in a hard climax, his pleasure intensified by Sam's voracious swallowing of every drop he had to give. And then Sam was pushing his own jeans down, and then he had Jake spread wide open on the table. With one powerful thrust he possessed Jake. His powerfully muscled thighs began their carnal rhythm, and later Jake would marvel that the table didn't collapse under their savage fucking.
After their lust was sated, Sam bathed and changed silently as Jake just sat on the table, wondering what they would do now. "Are you sorry?" he called.
"No," came Sam's voice from the shower. "I'll do it again if I'm not late in an appointment with Travis."
Jake was okay with that answer. Happily he began to get tidied up himself. He had a business to run.
It was what Sam would say was the start of the best time of his life as he spent the next few days with Jake. It was strange. They didn't spend the whole day fucking like some romantic fantasy. He had a business to save and Jake's deli consumed most of the man's day. By the time they both stagger into Jake's or Sam's bedroom, they were mostly too exhausted to do anything more than to sleep. They made up for lost time on Sundays when Jake would open the store later than usual and close earlier. Yet it was a routine Sam could only describe as heaven.
He wondered how Jake could be so relentlessly supportive of him. He had never received such blind faith and adoration before. Jake seemed to believe that he could walk on water if he chose to. Sam learned that he liked being adored, it was a nice change from being depended on yet being disliked at the same time by the very people that depended on him.
He had always thought that he would only belong to someone as long as they found him useful. If only he knew how to be useful to Jake. Jake gave him strength and confidence. Sometimes it scared him how he was becoming more and more dependant on Jake for his smile and quiet faith.
"Maybe we should live together," Jake suggested one night.
Sam was surprised by the near-paralyzing fear that choked through him. "I don't have money any more," he said.
"How insulting," Jake teased gently. "You think I want you only for the money?"
"Why not? Everyone does."
Now Jake was getting slightly pissed off. Sam could see it on the man's face. But like a man who couldn't help it, he continued putting his foot in his mouth. "Why would you want me if I am a bankrupt fucked-up?"
"Maybe because I love you?"
"Love? But you don't even know me. You tell me you love me from the start, but how can you, when you don't even know who I really am?" Sam heard himself say. He should stop talking. He couldn't. There were some things he had to know - such was what Jake really wanted from him. "I gave you a loan, you helped me back. Or maybe it's because you wanted a piece of me that you helped me. I'm confused, Jake. Nobody wants me for me before, how do I know if you're not just like everyone else?"
"No wonder everyone else dislikes you," Jake snapped. "I'm very tempted to do the same right now. You always accuse people who tell you they love you of being gold diggers?"
"Nobody has told me they love me before," Sam confessed sheepishly.
"Not even your parents?" Jake asked, appalled at the sight of Sam's bleak expression.
"I can't remember the last time they said that to me. Maybe they have, maybe they haven't." Sam tried to shrug with a nonchalance he was far from feeling. "Are you sure, Jake? Please, I need to know."
"I know what people think of me," Jake told him instead. "They say I'm a flaky strange type who is always going on about my crush on you. I can't remember when anyone last told me they loved me either, but that is probably because my parents were dead and my friends... well, friends don't tell each other 'I love you', not like lovers do. But that's where I'm different from you. I like you, I find you attractive, and these last few days, I know that I want to spend my life with you. Will we work out? I don't know. But we can try. But I guess you don't see it that way. You want promises I can't give you."
"Jake, I - " Sam's voice trailed off as he realized he didn't know what to say to Jake.
"It's okay, Sam. Go home and think about this. But please have the decency to call and tell me if you're breaking this off."
"Jake - "
"Get out of the bed. I need to make the bed."
"Hey!" Sam protested when Jake pretty much pushed him out of bed. "I'm confused here. Give me a break here. You telling me you love me isn't something I can shake off easily. It's a life-changing event and I need time to adapt to this."
"Okay, so go adapt yourself." Jake whacked the pillows furiously as he pulled the sheets off the bed. "Call me when you've fully adapted, whatever that means."
"I like you, Jake. I think I even love you, but it's just that..." He was scared, terrified. He hoped Jake would take pity on him.
Jake looked at him, and Sam realized that Jake wasn't angry as much as the man was afraid. Afraid of what, really? That Sam wouldn't want him? "I don't have money," he blurted out. "How can I be useful to you? How can I stop you from realizing what a useless fuck-up I am and throw me aside?" he asked Jake.
"I love you. I guess I'm only realizing now that that may not be enough," Jake told you. "I don't know what to say to make you see that I am not like everyone else you know. Maybe you need new friends. Your current ones suck. If you don't want to be used, why not move on to somewhere else where people like you for who you are? All I can say is, you can start with me. But it's not my decision to make, is it?"
Sam guessed unhappily that it wasn't. He wished that it was, though. He wished that Jake could say a magic word and all in his world would be okay. But life was fucked up in that way - it just wasn't up to Jake to save him from himself. He could only pray that he was the man Jake believed him to be.
FOUR
"No," Sam said later that day. "I'm not going to do this anymore." It hit him out of the blue, the answer, but he didn't care how or why it came to him only then. Jake's face and his words - "I love you" - resonated through his senses all day long, and now, he finally had the answer to what he should do. "I'll just dissolve the company. If they don't agree, I'll resign and let someone else run the sinking ship."
Travis gave Sam an undecipherable look. He was unused to being awake so early in the morning. He had just spent the last twenty hours working at sorting out some logistics problem in Korea over teleconferencing and too many phone calls and emails. The last thing he needed was another drastic change to his well-adjusted schedule. "Please tell me you don't me to do anything drastic," he told Sam.
"Nothing. You can cancel your loan to me. I'm selling the house and the car and everything I can sell and I'll get Jake and me a bigger apartment, big enough for the both of us. I'll help him run the deli - "
"That will be a drastic descend from your old lifestyle." Travis smiled. "Actually, I've been thinking myself. Eddie is always nagging me that I work too hard, so I figured maybe it's time I get someone to help me out. I'm a one-man international entreport industry and it's wearing me out. You're the only guy I don't mind working with. We could get an office - nothing fancy, you know what a miser I am - and you can be my logistics executive."
"You will be a monster to work with."
"You will be a monster to employ."
They made a deal right there and then.
There was no turning back now. He knocked on Jake's door that evening. "Hello," he said when Jake opened the door. "You're right. I'm moving on. I've ditched my old job and I'm now going to be the new and only employee of that cranky bastard Travis Schuldt. I want to spend my life with you. I would be a fool if I let you get away from me."
Jake smiled. "I just came back. I wanted to call you. It's not fair of me to kick you out like that when I should have tried to help you see - "
"No, feel free to knock some sense into me whenever I need it," Sam hastily assured him. "You want me, Jake, and now you've got me."
Jake's answer was to throw his arms around Sam.
"Congratulations," Scott Wolf said to Jake who brought him and Marc their Sunday sandwiches and coffee. "About you and Sam," he added unnecessarily.
"Yeah, heard the great news from Jared," Marc said. "When's the housewarming party? I'd like to meet Sam."
"You just want to get some dirt on the sales of the company," Jake told them. "May I remind you both that you're editors, not journalists?"
"I'm hurt. I do have altruistic motives from time to time," Marc protested mildly with a grin.
"I think Crowe has an advantage over the others in this," Jake told them. "If I were you, I'd send someone down to get the dirt from that guy. You didn't hear that from me."
"No, we didn't," Scott said in mock solemnity. "So Sam's just going to walk away like that, huh? I heard his own father is threatening to sue him."
"He can threaten," Marc said. "But he won't sue. He's just doing all he can to make sure that Sam trots in line to his order. That fool has no idea that in the end he will lose Sam permanently. Maybe he doesn't even care."
There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that stopped Jake from asking how the man could be so sure. Maybe even a Boy Scout like Marc had skeletons in his closet.
"Don't feel guilty about you coming between him and his family," Marc told Jake. "You didn't come between them. What happens between Sam and his family is something that only they can mend, and even then, the decision is not yours to make. Some things can't be forgiven, Jake, and there are things about your lover that you have no say in. Just don't give him any reason to regret giving them up for you."
Scott was looking at Marc with a melancholic expression on his face. Jake watched the two men, for the first time wondering if the bond between those two ran deeper than mere friendship. But both men were wearing rings on their fingers that didn't match. They were friends then, very good friends.
"I'm sorry." Marc laughed weakly, trying to dispel the heavy mood. "I don't know what came over me."
"More coffee?" Jake asked.
"Yeah. And maybe you can bring us some chocolate cake while you're at it," Scott told him.
Marc smiled and nodded. "Decaf for me please."
They never mentioned Marc's moodiness, and Marc never showed that side of him to Jake again. Jake invited them both to his housewarming party, but Marc at the last moment called to say that he couldn't make it. Marc was content to let the relationship between he and Jake remain cordial and Jake let it be. Maybe the man was embarrassed that Jake saw a part of him that he wanted to keep hidden, maybe he had some dislike of Jake that he kept very well hidden - whatever Marc's reason was, he always kept a distance. Jake didn't take it personally. Marc tended to keep everyone at arm's length, Jake noticed that now. If Marc was nice to you, he did it strictly on his own terms. Only Brian Krause, Marc's partner, seemed to have the sole luxury of crossing that distance.
Sam though Marc a boring bastard and Scott a whiny buffoon. He gave the paper an interview and arranged interviews with the paper for some of his business acquaintances (some, like Russell Crowe, had to be 'persuaded' to give his consent) and made sure that Marc and Scott got the credit for them. Any friend of Jake was a friend of his, and besides, he liked those two guys.
He played basketball and baseball regularly with Marc.
Sam never bought a new car to replace his old Porsche. He took the train and tolerated rude and obnoxious cab drivers instead. His new apartment was modest and furnished sparsely, but it was enough for him that it was a comfortable home for the both of them.
Travis threatened to fire him every other day and he threatened to quit. They worked together just fine.
In his spare time, he helped Jake put the accounts for the deli in order. He even suggested franchising, but Jake wouldn't hear it. He wanted to run his business his own way, and Sam could stay the hell out of it. But he'd appreciate it if Sam kept working at Jake's books. Jake hated accounting; he'd rather make sandwiches and latte.
He still had lunches with some old acquaintances from time to time. But he liked where he was now. He was with Jake, content and happy, and he missed very little of his old lifestyle.
It sounded corny, but with Jake, he believed that he had finally found a home where he belonged.