by susan

Antonio forced the heavy Italian motorcycle up the steep winding road, and slowed to a crawl as the backend of the bike slipped on loose rocks and threatened to send him over the edge of the cliff. He had been to Pedro's hideaway in the hills once before and knew that the road was treacherous so he wore his black leather pants to protect his legs from the sharp flying rocks and his heavy leather jacket with a black shirt underneath.

As he climbed higher he could see the lights of Madrid in the distance, gleaming off the clouds in the dusk sky. Antonio was glad that he would arrive before dark because, as daring as he was on his motorcycle, he did not want to tackle this road in blackness.

Pedro had a new script that he wanted Antonio to read. Antonio had already agreed to do it sight unseen because he trusted his friend to produce a quality film and because he had no other film on his schedule at the moment. The director was gathering the lead actors together tonight to go over the script and plan rehearsals. Shooting would start in a few weeks. Carmen Maura was in the cast as well as Eusebio Poncela. Antonio knew both of these actors well as he had worked with them last year in Matador and he counted them among his friends.

His arms were tiring from struggling to control the big motorcycle when Pedro's house finally came into view around a bend in the road. It was small but comfortable and the place where Pedro produced his best writing away from the clubs and distractions in Madrid. As Antonio pulled up beside the stone structure he was surprised to see only Pedro's old beat up gray car. He was the first one here and he thought he would be late. He kicked down the stand, removed his helmet and grabbed his small bag from the back of the bike which contained another shirt, socks, underwear, pajamas, his shaving kit and a toothbrush. He didn't normally wear pajamas but he didn't know what the sleeping arrangements were and the house had only two bedrooms.

Pedro had heard the motorcycle's roar as it echoed off the surrounding hills and he now stood in the open doorway, a glass of red wine in his hand. Antonio threw his bag over his shoulder then cupped his hands and blew on them to replace the warmth lost during the trip. It promised to be a cold night and already his breath frosted the air.

He grinned at Pedro and took the glass from him taking a long sip and enjoying the warmth as it passed his throat. Tossing his bag in the corner he turned to Pedro and said, "I guess I'm the first one here."

Pedro smiled back at the younger man. "You're forever stating the obvious Antonio. Actually, Carmen just called and said that she can't make it tonight. She'll come in the morning and bring Eusebio with her as he has no car. Give me your jacket and go sit by the fire. God, look how red your hands are. Does wearing gloves on a cold night go against your macho sensibilities?"

Antonio knew he was being teased. Pedro liked to do that to him. But sometimes his teasing could be cruel and painful, especially if it concerned their opposite sexual preferences. Antonio hoped that it would not go in that direction tonight and he would have been much more comfortable if Carmen had been here to play mediator. He sat on an overstuffed sofa that was pulled close to the blazing fire and held his hands out to the warmth rubbing them briskly while he tried to ignore the nagging in the back of his mind. So, he and Pedro would spend the night here alone together. Nothing wrong with that, Antonio told himself. There were two bedrooms and Pedro had never made any physical advances – about the only gay man in Madrid who hadn't.

"I'm anxious to see the script, Pedro, what's it called?"

"I don't have a title yet. Have another glass of wine. Are you hungry?"

"No, I ate before I left." Antonio held out his glass and Pedro filled it to the rim. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, his senses telling him that Pedro was stalling. "Is there something in the script that I'm not going to like?"

"Why do you say that?"

Antonio cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "I'd just as soon read it now before I get too drunk," he said putting the glass firmly on a side table."

Pedro sighed dramatically and handed a thick bundle of papers to Antonio. "It's not typed yet. I hope you can read it. I'll just sit here..." Pedro seated himself in a scruffy wing chair. "while you do." His house was like the man himself, messy but homey. Knitted throws graced the backs of the furniture and stacks of magazines and newspapers were everywhere.

Antonio adjusted the light behind him and used his actor's power of concentration to shut out all distractions, including the stocky, frizzy-haired man sitting within an arm's length of him, his feet propped on an ottoman. He read for a bit then looked up. "My character is called Antonio?"

"I've come to like that name."

Antonio smiled and shook his head. He could remember a time when that was not the case. He continued to read, a frown gathering between his brows. Without looking up he said, "I can't do this, Pedro."

"You're not past page three."

"The way it opens. I can't do it. I can't do this scene with the directors and Antonio making the porno film. A full length shot of me naked while I masturbate to his directions? I can't--"

"Alright, alright. I can rewrite that scene so it is not your character. Happy?"

"Maybe." He had read only three pages but already Antonio could tell that this was the most sexually explicit script that Pedro had ever written. And his character, Antonio, was gay again. Antonio sighed and kept reading. Another masturbation scene, but this time only his face was on camera. He could do that. After a few more pages he caught the drift of the script. His character was a sexually immature young man obsessed with a gay director who had a boyfriend. But Antonio pursues the director until he gets him into bed with tragic consequences. He glanced up to see Pedro studying him intensely. "I'm surprised you didn't name the director Pedro."

"I considered it. Keep reading."

Antonio didn't say another word until he was finished then he stubbed out his butt in an ashtray that was full of his butts. He always smoked heavily when he was tense and this script was disturbing indeed. He stood and moved to stare out the window at the lights of the city below. "Somewhat autobiographical, isn't it?"

"Not really."

"Wishful thinking, then?"

"Parts of it."

Antonio turned and ran both hands through his thick curls. Then he leaned against the window and confronted Pedro. "There are a couple of scenes in there..." he nodded towards the script on the sofa... "that I'm not sure I can do the way they are written. Pedro, this is approaching pornography."

"Nothing is explicit."

"What do you mean nothing is explicit? You want me stretched out naked on my back with Eusebio on top of me -- also naked -- and my legs over his shoulders. And we can't even fake it. You've got the camera moving up our bodies. Jesus, Pedro, Eusebio's gay--"

"Antonio," Pedro rose and approached him, "I'm not asking you to actually let him fuck you, it will just look that way."

Antonio moved away from him and lit another cigarette. "Do you know that my mother is after me to find a girl and get married. I think even she is starting to wonder about me. And I don't know how many times I've had to explain what I'm doing to Javier. He gets teased about his 'gay' brother."

"You smoke too much."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime you want."

Antonio glared at Pedro. "My family will disown me, Pedro. There are people all over this country who already think I'm gay. Scenes that are that graphic will cement it in their minds."

"Is that such a repulsive thought?"

Antonio was treading on dangerous ground here. He did not want to insult his friend. "Of course not. It's just that I'm not gay, and I don't like being mistaken for something I'm not. Jesus, Pedro, it's tough enough for me as it is--"

"You should be flattered. Everyone wants you -- male, female, young, old -- everyone. I wish I could be so lucky. You have no idea what it is like being ugly, do you Antonio--"

Antonio was taken aback. "What? You're not ugly, Pedro."

"I have a mirror, my friend. I can see what I look like. And I can see what you look like."

"You have no trouble finding lovers."

"It's only because of who I am."

"That's crazy--"

"Is it? Oh yes, I've had plenty of short relationships but each one has been meaningless. When my lovers realize that I'm not going to cast them in one of my films, they leave me." He laughed bitterly. "The last one only wanted me to try to get to you. There is only one relationship that I long for..."

Antonio pulled open the doors to the terrace and stepped outside letting the cool air wash over him as he caught his breath. Pedro had never been so persistent before and he felt suffocated.

The voice came from behind him. "How many women do you figure you've slept with? Hundreds? Thousands?" Pedro moved even closer and Antonio could feel his warm breath ruffle his hair. "What are you looking for, Antonio? Do you really know yourself all that well?"

"And I suppose you think you know who I am."

"I know you very well. Better than anyone on earth, I suspect. You are an unusual combination of vulnerability and true southern machismo. It's quite a potent mixture, an incredible turn-on. I'm not immune to you, Antonito. You have no idea how difficult it is for me when I work with you. To see you everyday. To share your thoughts. To experience all of your emotions. I want all of you, Antonio."

Antonio slipped to the side then turned to face Pedro, his hands shaking as he tossed the butt over the terrace railing. He briefly considered following the cigarette over the railing and heading for his motorcycle but reason prevailed and he stayed put. "If you want me so much, Pedro, then why do you keep lining up women for me? Eh? Why?"

Pedro folded his arms and leaned his hip against the railing. "Because it makes me feel a bit like I'm with you, to know that a woman I have chosen is fucking you."

Antonio stared at him in amazement.

"Surely you figured that out, Antonio. And when they are finished they call me and tell me every minute detail of the experience. I fuck you through them. I even tell them what to do to you, things that you will let a woman do but not a man."

Antonio was shaking now, whether from the cold or his emotions, he wasn't sure. He headed back inside and sat on the edge of the sofa leaning forward towards the fire to place his forehead on his knees, his arms wrapped around his lower legs to control the trembling. Of course he had known what Pedro was doing. But he had never dared admit it to himself.

Pedro's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Do you really think it matters so much whether it is a woman's mouth or a man's caressing you? Whether it's a woman's hands or a man's? Isn't it the feelings behind those caresses that matter more than anything?" Pedro sighed deeply and said softly, "I love you. Antonito, I am in love with you."

Antonio's voice was muffled. "Pedro, please don't do this."

"Do what? Finally tell you what has been in my heart for years? I thought at first that it was just a crush -- an infatuation with a beautiful boy. But it isn't. It's something much deeper."

Antonio raised his head, his eyes misted with tears. "Pedro, I love you like a brother, like a brother."

"And you thought I felt that way about you too?"

"Yes," came the strangled reply.

"Well, I have brother, as you know, and I certainly don't want to make love to him. My feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. Antonio, I'm not asking for a quick fuck. I want to make love to you very slowly and very gently."

Antonio's mind was reeling. "Did you set this up, Pedro? Am I the only one you invited to be here tonight?"

Pedro chuckled softly. "Yes. I needed time with you alone to go over the sexual aspects of this script. But believe this -- I did not plan to reveal my feelings to you. I did not plan to reveal my pain--"

"Your pain? What do you think you are doing to me?"

A surge of fury overwhelmed Pedro and he advanced towards Antonio causing the younger man to stand up quickly, his back to the fire. Pedro kicked the sofa viciously and stood nose to nose with Antonio, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you have any idea what it is like for me to see you give yourself freely to any woman who wants you? Most of the time you don't even know their names, do you, Antonio?" Pedro was screaming into Antonio's face, his words ripping into him.

Antonio experienced a moment of fear. He had nowhere to go with the fire already burning his back. Would Pedro try to overpower him? He was nine years younger than the director but Pedro was strong.

The brutal words continued. "Yet the one person who loves you can't have you. Just because he's a man." Pedro moved away as quickly as he had advanced and Antonio reached out to grab the mantle to keep from falling into the fire. His legs had turned to water and he sank to the hearth in a heap.

Pedro was standing rock still in the middle of the room. He said quietly, "If you are looking for love, Antonio, when you spend every night with a different anonymous woman, you are looking in the wrong place." Antonio wiped his eyes and Pedro knew that he had gone too far. Why did this always happen, he wondered? Why did they always end up fighting? Usually Antonio fought back with equal force but tonight his beautiful eyes were bright with tears.

"You think I'm a whore, don't you," he said miserably.

"No, but sometimes you certainly behave like one," replied Pedro seriously.

Antonio sniffled. "Yeah, you're right. You're right, I do. I don't know why I do it."

"Maybe you feel you have something to prove?" Pedro inquired hopefully.

Antonio laughed sardonically and shook his head. "No, Pedro. I know who I am. It's just so easy for me with women. They offer and I accept."

"Move over." The director sat on the hearth beside his favorite actor. He produced a tissue and tried to wipe Antonio's face but a hand brushed him away. "If I were a woman would you have let me wipe your tears?"

"No woman has ever made me cry like that."

Pedro smiled. "No, you make them cry. But don't change the subject."

"I don't know. I suppose I would have, yes."

Pedro tried again and this time Antonio sat still as he gently blotted the tears. He longed to hold Antonio close to him and smooth his hair. Instead he said, "Was that so bad?"

"No."

"If I were a woman we'd probably be stretched out naked in front of the fire right now." Antonio produced that lopsided smile that Pedro loved so much. "Probably. But don't even think about it."

The director's teasing tone came back. "I could tie you up and you could pretend that you have no choice..."

"Pedro."

The director reached out to stroke Antonio's cheek. "Just one kiss, then? That's not too much to allow a man who loves you with all of his being." A pained look crossed Antonio's features so Pedro coaxed. "You've kissed men before, in my movies, in Delirios de Amor that you did a few years ago. Jesus, I've never seen you so deeply kissed as you were in that movie, and it was by a man. Just a kiss, Antonio."

Antonio studied the face that he knew so well and almost imperceptibly nodded. Immediately Pedro's fingers threaded through the soft curls at the back of Antonio's head and he leaned forward and lightly brushed Antonio's soft lips with his own, testing him and teasing. Antonio did not pull away. Pedro deepened the kiss, pressing harder with his mouth, slowing sucking on Antonio's lower lip. The second he stopped Antonio was on his feet standing before the sofa.

"This is different. There's no director to yell, 'cut'," he said breathlessly.

"This director certainly isn't going to. We're not finished," said Pedro softly as he moved slowly towards the handsome young man. He knew that if he made one wrong step, moved too quickly, Antonio would be frightened away. Very slowly he placed one arm around Antonio's waist and one behind his head, drawing him close. His mouth began its assault in earnest now, forcing Antonio's jaws wide and plunging inside to plunder his mouth and tongue. Antonio gasped for breath and Pedro tightly pulled their bodies together as he kicked out Antonio's feet and fell onto the sofa on top of him. Antonio's weak struggles were soon lost to another deep kiss that went on and on. He found himself responding and his tongue entwined with Pedro's. The man on top knew he had won a major victory and his caresses became bolder. One hand still controlled Antonio's head but the other slipped under the young man's hips to grind their pelvises together. Both men were fully aroused. He longed to kiss Antonio's neck and chest but Pedro was afraid to free Antonio's mouth for fear he would protest their passion. Pedro didn't want to stop, he wanted to possess all of him. He had waited long enough.

Pedro knew another victory when Antonio's arm snaked around his neck urging the kiss to continue. Pedro poured all of his pent up passion into Antonio's open mouth. Growing bolder he moved his lips and tongue to Antonio's neck and Antonio threw his head back into the cushions giving Pedro full access. One hand was still pressed under Antonio's buttocks where his fingers dug into his firm flesh, and he used his other hand to rip open the buttons on Antonio's shirt, quickly moving his mouth to his chest and nipples, nipping and licking. Antonio groaned.

Pedro reluctantly pulled his hand out from under Antonio and used both of them to fumble with the buckle of the young man's belt. He immediately cursed his haste as Antonio pushed his hands away and struggled to sit up.

"Stop it, Pedro. Stop it," he gasped.

"Antonio, I can give you an orgasm like you've never experienced before. I know a man's body better that any woman ever could," he pleaded.

Antonio had Pedro's roving hands clasped in his. "This was supposed to be just a kiss. You want too much."

"I want nothing that you don't give freely to any woman. Antonito, please, let me love you completely."

The implication in those words made Antonio struggle to get the heavier man off him. Pedro pressed down hard, refusing to admit defeat yet. "Antonio, you are aroused. You can't hide that. Let me take care of you with my mouth. I won't ask anything more, I promise.

Antonio's brain was befuddled with passion. Why not, why not? What difference did it make if it was a man's mouth or a woman's? His hands loosened their grip and Pedro worked his belt buckle once more as his mouth moved to cover Antonio's again. But Antonio moved his head sideways denying him further access to his mouth. His senses screamed at him to allow Pedro to do what he wanted but his mind begged caution. He felt his belt go loose and Pedro's hands feverishly pulling on the tight leather. That broke the spell and Antonio bucked hard throwing Pedro off balance enough that he could slip out from under him. He hit the floor on his hands and knees then scrambled quickly to his feet adjusting his pants with a grimace. Antonio stood over Pedro, panting. "You ask too much."

Pedro flopped over onto his back and looked at Antonio imploringly. "You're fully aroused. I'm fully aroused. What do you propose we do about that? Hmmm?"

Antonio turned his back to the man and stared into the fire, struggling to control the now unwanted passion. He felt quite disgusted that he had almost let his emotions rule his judgment again, a bad habit of his.

"Let me watch you masturbate."

That was enough. Antonio grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He'd rather risk his neck on the rocky road at midnight than have his senses assaulted any further. He slammed the door behind him to indicate his anger then stepped out into utter blackness. There was no moon, no streetlights, nothing. He couldn't even see his black motorcycle.

Then golden light washed over his back casting a long shadow of his body on the gravel in front of him.

"Don't be a fool, Antonio. You'll kill yourself at the first turn in the road. Come back inside."

"I'll sleep out here."

"Then I'll find your frozen corpse tomorrow morning. Come back inside."

Antonio turned to face the director who stood in the doorway with a glass of wine in his hand. It was like the preceding few hours had never happened. "I don't want you to touch me, Pedro. Not like that. This isn't a film and you are not directing me." Although he had hoped that his voice would be firm it sounded more like a plea to his ears.

"You enjoyed it as much as I did, Antonio. Your body told me so," Pedro snapped. "But, if you insist. I certainly am not going to rape you."

Antonio didn't move.

Pedro changed his tone of voice. He knew that his words had bite, that they were cutting. It was the bad habit of a director. He sighed. "I wouldn't do anything in the world to hurt you. I love you too much for that. I promise that I will not make advances. Now come inside. It's freezing and we have a script to go over."

Antonio still felt the need to explain. "It's not that I don't want to love you that way, Pedro, it's just that I don't want our relationship to change. It's good the way it is. You're older than me. You're the producer and director of your movies -- my boss. You hire me and you can fire me. You have power. I can't give you everything, Pedro. Where would that leave me? What would that leave me?"

"I see. My authority over you equals your sexual power over me, is that it?"

Antonio nodded, his beautiful face drawn in distress.

"If that precarious balance of power is what keeps our working relationship sound then so be it. Ah well, I do enjoy arguing with you." He smiled and extended his hand. "Come on inside, Antonio. We've got work to do."

Antonio slowly climbed the steps and moved past Pedro with a grateful glance. Pedro reached out and gently caressed the back of Antonio's leather jacket as he passed, so lightly that the younger man did not feel it. Pedro took a long sip of the wine and considered his situation. He was distressed by the mere presence of Antonio yet he needed to be near him always. The young man's face filled his dreams and tormented him even in sleep. He was trapped in his desire. Was that a law of desire, Pedro wondered? To desire most the one you couldn't have? As Pedro shut the door he knew he had the title for his movie.

Pedro scanned image courtesy of the Antonio Banderas Web Mall

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