by
If the helicopter had to crash, at least it was during the last shot on the last day of filming. After moving from the hospital to a skilled nursing facility, movie star Jonathan is expecting his on-and-off girlfriend to swing by on her way out of town. The person who opens the door is his former on-set nutritionist Billy. They were never more than friends before. But almost the first thing Jonathan says is, “If I come out as bi, could I take you on a date?”
Billy didn’t have much of a plan when he left his pandemic volunteer gig to drive across three states. All he knew was that Jonathan could have been killed in Las Vegas, and Billy wasn’t there. Now Jonathan’s assistant has ditched and he needs help, so Billy steps in. He’s positive that when Jonathan’s discharged, they’ll discuss that date.
But recovery takes a detour, and Jonathan’s second near-death experience means they have to put on the brakes. Meanwhile in Los Angeles, two of Jonathan’s past partners are negotiating their own new relationship, and Billy realizes that the best thing for all of them might be…all of them. The only real question is, does Jonathan still want him as part of the deal?
Publisher: JMS Books, LLC
Editors:
Genres:
Pairings: 4+ or Other
Heat Level: 2
Romantic Content: 3
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Aromantic, Bisexual, Gay, Pansexual, Polyamorous
Protagonist 1 Age: 46-65
Protagonist 2 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 3 Age: 46-65
Tropes: Coming Out Later in Life, Everyone is Queer, Famous / Not Famous, Hurt / Comfort, Interracial Relationship
Word Count: 39,500
Setting: Las Vegas
Languages Available: English
I slurped down the rest of the coffee, hauled my ass out of the pool, thanked the guys for the Coffee Talk, and went inside to call Shaya.
An advance text established that she was free to talk. Well, the nearly instant return call after my advance text. “Billy! How’s your hair holding up? Where the fuck are you?”
“The blue starts two or three inches from my scalp now, and I’m in Las Vegas.”
A moment of silence. Then, “Oooooohh.”
“Uh-huh.” She knew, after all, that I’d been crushing on Jonathan from Day One. “His assistant bailed so I’m running the show for a while. Survey says he’s staying here till he’s out of rehab, which means we’re all staying here.”
“What did you tell him?”
“When I rolled in? I said, all I could think when I saw the tape of the crash was that I never told you how much I care.”
“What did he say?”
READ MORE“He said, if I come out as bi can I take you on a date.” There was some shrieking on the Los Angeles end of things. I winced and held the phone away until the noise died down. “If there wasn’t a plague, I’m a hundred percent sure we would have been kissing.” My toes curled all over again at the idea.
“Wow! So then what happened?”
I had the distinct impression Shaya had just settled in for a long comfortable gossip. It made me smile. “Well first of all let me ask you a question. Did you know about his guy friend?”
“Yup. I met Cory a time or two.”
“Did you have, like, a threesome?”
A huffing sound, probably a laugh. “Not per se. In the same place at the same time but not all involved. If that makes sense.”
“Sure. Okay. Is he a nice guy?”
“Oh yeah. Jonathan told me Cory was really up front about not wanting a one and only. He’s not looking to fall in love and be monogamous. Likes having his freedom. Not possessive or jealous. Basically a solitary person who prefers a friends with benefits situation, like me. Except you know I can get a little mushy. I think Cory may be legit aromantic.”
“Huh. That’s probably good.” It all sounded encouraging, actually. “And what about you? Because Jenny’s out of the picture.”
“Wait, what? Wasn’t she out there?”
Oh, very interesting. Shaya’s tone was not that of a woman who was completely indifferent to Jonathan’s relationship status. I’d gotten that impression before, but I never pushed on it because, obviously, Jonathan was with Jenny. “She stopped by the care facility on her way out of town. I just got there, and I was sitting on Jonathan’s bed with my hand down, across his hip, you know? And he had his hand wrapped around my arm. So we’re hip to hip and I’m, like, bracketing his pelvis in this really obvious way.” Shaya was cracking up. I didn’t blame her at all. “And what was I going to do? Pull my hand free? No. So Jenny comes in and she’s all like, Oh.” More laughter. I knew Shaya would be able to envision this scene. “And he tells her he’s bi, and also that he’s had a crush on me for ten years –”
“Oh, Billy.”
“I know. And she clears up the fact that we never did anything about it before –”
“Like it’s any of her fucking business!”
I was dying, trying not to laugh. “Well, but she’s been up-front too. She wants monogamy. They’ve broken up half a dozen times over the fact that he never put a ring on it. It’s what most people want, let’s face it. They want to be coupled.” A dismissive grunt from LA communicated Shaya’s opinion about what I was pretty sure was mostly cultural conditioning. Even where the legality of marriage isn’t gender-specific, it’s always only two people, which is very much the social norm, and most of us have enough other things we’re trying to get away with. Although with the amount of cheating that goes on, you would think it was clear that a lot of people need more than one partner. I shook myself back into focus because Shaya was talking.
“So I’m guessing you didn’t get too far into the details of what might happen next.”
“Totes no. Not the time, not the place. He needs to be home, or what passes for home, though let me tell you this villa is fucking palatial. Anyway, we’re going to do the household quarantine thing and then all get tested again so the masks can come off.”
“And then there will be kissing?”
“Maybe,” I hedged, like there was any conceivable doubt about it.
COLLAPSEFALLING features characters introduced elsewhere in my story universe, but is a stand-alone story which resolves the internal storyline. While the relationship built over the course of the story is M/M/M/F, all action occurs following a severe injury, so the heat level is low.
