Apartment For Three

Chapter 11

Paul's hard work paid off. He was able to get in a Broadway play and finally showcase his talent. He'd dreamt about it for so long, I couldn't help but feel happiness for him. But deep down I felt an innate sense of guilt for sleeping with Marlon just a few days prior.

And worst of all, I loved it.

Paul was sensual and thorough in sex. He took his time with every touch, and thought it out carefully. Every kiss or stroke was filled with care and passion.

But Marlon, he was different. His thrusts were hard and forced. He always had sex as if he was fighting something... fighting someone. But in his rage, although there was some pain there was also pleasure. And although I'd be left sore after he was through, I was always begging for more.

Marlon didn't make love, he didn't know how. He purely fucked, and that's something I needed from time to time.

Was I wrong for having both of these men? Maybe... because Paul had no idea what exactly was happening behind his back. To Paul, I was his loyal girlfriend and every time he came inside of me, it was all his.

Little did Paul know, whole he was away at the Workshop, Marlon was taking his place.

"To Paul, and his talent." Marlon toasted. He'd already had quite a bit to drink that night, so the fact he was toasting to anything wasn't a surprise at all. Paul was just a little tipsy, he'd celebrated with his fellow cast members earlier in the night.

Now the three of us sat in the apartment, celebrating all that'd Paul had achieved. Both of the boys downed their shots.

"Take a snot of this, Paul." Marlon laughed as he handed him a bottle. "I paid a lot on it."

Paul took a long drink from the bottle, then looked down at it with droopy eyes. "How'd you afford this stuff?"

"I got a job." Marlon exclaimed. "In California for a film."

"Congrats..." Paul smiled as he lifted the bottle. "Let's drink to that!"

"Are you both just going to get flat out drunk? Because if so I'll just head to sleep." I asked with a risen brow.

"I'm only letting Paul know that he's not the only one succeeding around here..." Marlon slurred. "I got a job too."

"A better job at that." Paul agreed. "You're a real talent, Marlon. But I'm sure you know that."

"Damn right, I do!" Marlon shouted. You see, Paul was not hardly as drunk as Marlon. And even in sobriety, Marlon took himself very seriously. While to Paul, he was genuinely happy his roomie was able to achieve such success, Marlon saw it as his way of 'winning'.

"I can't wait until... until I get to that point." Paul nodded as he licked his lips.

"Who knows if you ever will... I sure didn't know I would." Marlon shouted loudly as he poured himself some more. "You know, when I first started I was practically selling myself just to get a Broadway show."

"Times have changed... film is just as... as big as the stage." Paul tried to visualized his thoughts with his hands. Marlon shook his head slowly at Paul.

"Film is the new stage. And it pays more too." Marlon nodded. "Only a sucker would do stage... only suckers do stage because they have to and on top of that they're suckers."

As time went on, both of them continued on drinking and therefore both of them got very drunk. This led to misunderstanding after misunderstanding within their conversation. Or maybe all that was said was their true feelings. I'll never know.

"Hey... if I didn't know better I'd think you were disrespecting me." Paul pointed at his chest lazily. "I'd think you are saying I'm a sucker."

"Maybe I am." Marlon laughed. I was sitting across the way from where they sat on the couch, and I watched the argument unfold before my eyes.

"You know, for a guy who had to fuck a lady to get where he is you're sure cocky." Paul slurred as he leaned toward Marlon.

"Who the hell do you think you are? That's bullshit... Who the hell?" Marlon defensively snapped back.

"I'm Paul. Paul Newman." Paul nodded after each sentence. "And I'm coming to become an actor. Without a kitten as help."

"You know what?" Marlon furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed. "That's not right, Paul. It's not right. Because I confided that... I told that... and now— you don't even. You aren't even respecting whatItoldyou.

"I am... I'm respecting that you're a gigolo." Paul laughed. And then Paul laughed a little harder. This was something we'd joked about in the past, but with the alcohol suddenly it wasn't so funny for Marlon.

Marlon's fist connected with Paul's cheek, causing Paul to stumble off of the couch and onto the floor. His head almost hit the coffee table.

"What'd you do that for?" Paul asked as he sat back on the couch. "I said the truth, you were a gigolo."

"And you know what? Your girl seems to like gigolo cock because she was just taking it few days ago." Marlon let the cat out of the bag.

Paul blew out a raspberry. "What do you mean? The only man Adele has been with is me."

"Oh yeah? Ask her." Marlon looked to where I sat off to the side. I was at a loss for words, not knowing exactly how to react. My silence spoke for me. Paul lowered his face into his hand, obviously ashamed of being embarrassed this way.

He seemed to be having a tender moment, hiding his face behind his hand. But in the blink of an eye, that hand suddenly became a fist to Marlon's cheek.

Both men began to wrestle right before my eyes. I stood up, but my feet were frozen. I wasn't exactly sure whether or not I should intervene or let them ride it out.

Paul grabbed the neckline of Marlon's shirt and stomped across the room with him in his grip. Both of them crashed against the wall, and Paul held him there angrily. Marlon didn't fight back at all, in muscle Marlon far exceeded Paul but he didn't care to send him to the doc. He just stood there pressed up to the wall with a smirk.

"What the hell is your deal, Marlon? Why'd you fuck her?" Paul asked angrily, his bravery and ego propelling his tantrum forward.

"Sure, I fucked her since you've been together." Marlon chuckled. "But why aren't you mentioning our night together?"