Another Step Closer to the Truth...
"....SsnnnZZZzzzzz...Snnnzzzz...SSSNNNNSSSzzzzzzZZzzzzzz...”
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings James, but I think there might be more than one reason for your divorce." Michael has been listening to James snore for the last two hours and is, understandably, growing a bit weary of having his eardrums assaulted. "You know, you really should have those adenoids looked at, mate. I think you may have a medical condition.”
“Snnnzzzz...SSNNNzzZZzzz...zzzzzzzz...” James snuffles in response.
“I’m so glad you agree,” Michael says.
“ZZZZzzzzzzZZZzzz...SnNNzzzzz...”
“You really think so? I never heard it put quite that way before.”
“ZZZzzzzSSSNNnnnzz...SNNNZZZzzzzz...”
“That’s fascinating, James!”
“SNNNzzzzzzzzzzSNzzz...HmmmnnnnnSnnZZzz...”
“You know, I never knew you were such a stimulating conversationalist!” Michael says. “And here, I thought you were just another pretty face!”
“Hhhnnnggghhhh...” James groans, then croaks out, “I fucking hate you."
“Oh my! It lives!” Michael grins.
“Don’t fucking shout at me!”
“Poor baby! Does your head hurt?” Michael coos in mock-sympathy.
“Stop yelling at me, for God’s sake!” James whimpers, and tries to burrow into Michael’s armpit.
The one upside to having his eardrums battered by James’s snores was that James is apparently a cuddler and, in his sleep, had squirmed about until he was wrapped around Michael like an octopus with separation-anxiety. Michael had particularly enjoyed the squirming. He would have felt guilty for that, but after a few minutes of putting up that god-awful snoring, he’d decided to consider it justifiable compensation for his suffering.
“What fucking happened?” James moans. Cautiously cracking open a bleary, bloodshot blue eye, he looks around, then follows with a slightly panicked, “Er...Michael? Why are we in bed together?”
Michael’s grin is pure evil. Oh, this was going to be fun. Michael gives James a hurt look. “You don’t remember?” he whispers, sounding shattered. “You gave me the most beautiful experience of my life, and you don’t even have the decency to remember it?!”
James’s horrified eyes are nearly bulging out of his skull and he looks ready to have a stroke. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Michael, what did I do?!”
Michael somehow manages to disguise his laughter as sobbing. “You were so forceful, yet so tender. No one’s ever made love to me like that before. It was so beautiful, James.” The look of horror (mingled with pride) on James’s face is absolutely priceless. Michael can’t hold back his laughter any longer and he whacks James with a pillow. “James, I’m just fucking with you!”
“So I didn't...?” James looks both comically relieved and crushingly disappointed. Michael whacks him again with the pillow. “You're still dressed, you dumb twat! I assure you, my virtue is intact.” Only because you passed out, though. “You’d started telling me how you came to be Amore`, but you drank most of a fifth of whisky, got completely legless, then passed out drunk.” Giving James a sour look, he adds, “I nearly threw my back out, carrying your fat arse in here.”
“‘M not fat, you bastard!” James mumbles, having burrowed back into the pillows.
“Tell that to my back. Anyway, I dumped you on the bed and stayed to watch over you in case you got sick, so you wouldn't choke or anything.”
“Well, um, thank you for that, at least.”
“Though, if I’d known you snored like that,” Michael continues, “I’d have watched from the other room. As it is, I’m not sure my eardrums will ever recover.”
James raises his head long enough to roll his eyes at Michael. “What fuck did you expect to hear, Fassy? Pachabel’s Canon? I mean, you have seen my nose, right?”
Your adorable, freckled nose that just begs to be kissed? “Well, yes, but I wasn't quite expecting you to sound like a twin-engine jet!”
A pale, freckled arm emerges from the nest of pillows to give Michael the finger. “Piss off! Now go away and let me sleep!”
Michael has had enough. Ignoring James’s protests, he starts chucking pillows off the bed, digging James out from his little nest. “Oh no! Oh no, you don’t! I've let you get by long enough with evading my questions and trying to weasel out of your promise. You’re going to finish telling me about Amore`, whether you like it or not!” He meets James’s stony, mulish expression with one of his own. “You’re gonna talk, so deal with it. The sooner you ‘fess up, the sooner I’ll let you sleep.”
Looking sulky, James reluctantly nods. But when Michael helps him up, James leaps out of the bed and makes for the door, trying to escape. Michael had been expecting something like this. But even though he was ready for it, he barely manages to get his arms around James’s legs to tackle him to the ground. Michael is not a small man, but he has to literally sit on James’s back to keep him down. My God, he’s so fast and strong!
“Stop fighting me, James!”
“Let me go, you motherfucker! Get off me!!”
“Stop fighting me! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Michael pants. He’s shocked at how strong the other man is, especially knowing how exhausted and hung-over he is right now.
“No!!! Let me go, Michael! Please!”
“No! You’re going to tell me everything! Please, James, just talk to me,” Michael pleads. “You said yourself, that you were tired of keeping it all inside.”
“I was lying!” James yells. “I was lying, you dumb bastard! I never intended to tell you anything! I’d never have admitted to it at all, if I hadn't been so fucking tired! I don’t even know how you knew it was me!”
“Your scent.” James stills and turns his head to look back at Michael, blinking in confusion, like he was expecting to hear something else. Which is a reasonable assumption, Michael supposes. “No one else smells quite like you, James. Your mouth, the color of your eyes, that lock of your hair I saw, were all pretty good indicators of your identity, don’t get me wrong. But it was when you ran off into the night that I knew for sure." Michael smiles fondly at him, "The wind blew by and I could smell your shampoo and that cologne you like so much. Gingerbread and crisp apples.” Michael cards his fingers gently through James’s hair, “Nope, no one else in the world smells like you. I'd know your scent anywhere, anyplace, anytime.”
At Michael's admission that wasn't-but-was, all the fight goes out of James and he begins finally telling the sometimes-sad, sometimes-funny true story of how an mild-mannered actor came to be a super-hero...