Justin
couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about JC’s house that
just wasn’t right.
It was a beautiful house. Justin had no doubts about that. Big and airy, built
on a hill above Los Angles. Private and secluded, but with a view that took your
breath away. The house was of multi-level design, so there were rooms hidden
behind corners and stairs where you’d least expect them. A beautiful house.
And JC loved it. Again, Justin had no doubt about that. He’d called Justin
when he’d found the house, knowing immediately that he would buy it. JC loved
the look of the house, the feel of the wood floors and stucco walls. He loved
its easy access to the studios in LA, but also that it was far enough away to
keep most people he knew who lived in LA from dropping over.
JC also loved the fact the house had a somewhat unsavory reputation.
“It was built in the late twenties,” he said, showing Justin through the
rooms, opening doors and turning on lights. “I’m not really sure who the
original owners were, just that they were involved in Hollywood throughout the
thirties, until they suddenly disappeared under suspicious circumstances.”
Justin smiled at the excitement on JC’s face. “You like that idea?” he
asked.
JC nodded. “I like the fact that the house has a history,” he said, running
his hands over the banister. “It makes me feel a part of it, somehow.”
Justin understood. JC’s own history was somewhat of a mystery to him, so he
found comfort in things that had a traceable past.
JC led Justin into the kitchen. “After that, it was owned by a few
non-Hollywood types, then for the longest time, the man who ran Capital Records
lived here.” He opened the sliding glass door to the patio, and the two men
walked out, absorbing the view of Los Angels at twilight. “When he died, his
children didn’t want it anymore, so now it’s mine.” He turned to Justin,
his smile dropping just a bit at the look on Justin’s face. “You don’t
like it?” he asked.
Justin looked at JC, the older man’s eyes so bright with expectation. He shook
off the strange vibe he was getting from the house, and walked to JC. “I love
the house,” he said, pulling JC close and kissing him slowly. “But I’d
like it a lot better if it had some furniture in it.” Justin moved his mouth
along JC’s jaw to his neck, biting the sensitive skin he found there. JC’s
hands were running up Justin’s back to his head, his fingers splaying against
Justin’s head and holding him closer. “Furniture like a bed,” Justin
continued as he nibbled JC’s ear.
“Delivered this morning,” JC said, capturing Justin’s mouth and kissing
him deeply, sucking Justin’s tongue into his own mouth while rubbing his
hardening erection against the younger man.
“Mmm,” Justin said, slipping a hand between them and running a finger
lightly against the waistband of JC’s pants, skimming the hot skin he found.
“I think we need to christen your new house properly, don’t you?” Justin
said, dipping his fingers lower and grasping JC’s hard cock in his hand. JC
could only moan in agreement.
Justin shot straight up in bed, breathing heavily. The dream had been…he shook
his head, trying to capture the dream that had so startled him, but it had
slipped away. He worked to calm his breathing, looking down at JC beside him.
The older man had not been disturbed, but was sleeping peacefully. Justin
reached out a hand and lightly touched JC’s tousled hair. He slowly got out of
bed and pulled on his jeans, needing a drink of water and a few minutes of calm
before he tried to sleep again.
Justin walked down the stairs to the kitchen and turned on the light switch.
Nothing happened as he flicked the switch a few time. Must be a fuse, he
thought, walking to the sink. I’d change it for Josh if he had any extras…and
I knew how to change fuses. Justin pulled a glass from the cabinet and
filled it with water, gulping down the cool liquid as he struggled to remember
anything of the dream.
He’d been in the dream…of that he was sure. And JC had been there, too. And
Justin was pretty sure they’d been here, in this house. But other than that,
the rest of the dream was a blur of forgotten images. Justin drank another glass
of water, then rinsed the glass and put it in the dish drain, ready to go back
to bed. At least Josh is in the bed, Justin thought. There’s nothing
worse than waking from a bad dream to an empty bed.
Justin was climbing the stairs when he felt something brush past him. He nearly
stumbled at the sensation, catching himself agaisnt the wall, his hear racing.
He stood there a moment to catch his breath, convincing himself that he’d
imagined it. There was no one else but he and JC in the house…nothing had
truly passed him on the stairs…but it had felt so real. He reached the
bathroom and turned on the light. At least this one worked, he thought,
running the water and splashing it on his face. He reached for a towel and wiped
his face, looking at the mirror when again he felt something, this time behind
him. He turned around quickly.
Again, nothing—or no one—was there. That creepy feeling he’d gotten when
he entered the house came back. This is ridiculous, he thought. There’s
no such things as ghosts.
He spied the paper peeking up from the edge of the counter as he was hanging the
towel back on the rack. It looked old, and was tightly wedged between the
bathroom counter and the wall. Justin reached in with a finger and thumb and
gently pulled the paper up, taking care not to tear it. The paper had yellowed
with age, and the writing had faded, but it was legible enough for Justin to
read what had been written on the back:
Leaving Chicago 1928
Justin blinked at the words. Slowly, he turned the paper over, shocked by what
he found on the other side. It was a photograph. A photograph of two men
boarding a train, dressed in 1920’s style clothes, surrounded by suitcases.
But it wasn’t the setting that so shocked Justin; it was who the people in the
photo were that was causing him to doubt his sanity.
Because the two men in the photograph were Justin and JC.