FASHION BABY

     THEIR CONVERSATION HAD taken a turn for which neither of them had explicitly prepared. Mutual apologies hadn’t been on his mind when Rhett had first showed up at the beach -- hell, he couldn’t even think of a single thing for the other to apologize for until he heard his elaboration. What Everett had said back when Beck arrived at the isle was unpleasant and stinging, yes, but it’s not like Beck didn’t deserve it. Given the time to think about what he’d put his ex boyfriend through for the last few months of their relationship, it was a wonder they’d slept together at all that first encounter. Beck wouldn’t have been able to tolerate himself if he’d been in Rhett’s shoes. “S’alright,” he dismissed under his breath, glancing over at his former lover out of the corner of his eyes. “You had every right to be angry with me.” He doesn’t want to sound like a self pitying mascochist so he refrains from saying that he got what he deserves but when Rhett is making his abrupt excuse to leave, Beckham’s gaze shot upwards and he reached out a hand on impulse. Fingers managed to snake around his ex’s slim wrist, loosely keeping him in place with a gentle press of his thumb to the other male’s pulse point. “Please --,” he implored, eyes wide with an innocence and fear that only Everett had seen before. It was the same purity of expression he’d once had as a young teenager who had yet to see the hardships of the world, who had yet to experience disappointment, rejection, loss and loneliness. “ -- Don’t go. Not ... just, stay?” Rhett could pull out of the grip if he wished. Beckham wasn’t about to force anything upon the person who had put up with the most from him. But all he knew was that he really didn’t want to be alone right now and the only person who could understand even half the feelings suddenly swirling around in his chest was Rhett. His Rhett.

     THE FACT THAT RHETT said nothing and made no comment on a large majority of Beckham’s points spoke volumes more than if he’d said something. Beck took the hint and silenced on the issues as well -- there was no use dredging their past through the mud any more than both of their actions already had (perhaps his own more so than his ex’s). He was grateful that it seemed the topic of Milo was dropped, too. He didn’t want to get into a fight, especially not about his former dealer and the one who had given him all the tools needed to continue his own self destructive spiral. Rhett could forgive Milo all he wanted but it still wouldn’t undo the nearly irreversible damage his involvement in Beck’s life had caused. Everett’s flat tone of obvious distrust grated at Beckham’s subconscious. He knew he shouldn’t expect the trust of his former flame but it had been a simple enough statement -- and entirely truthful at that. Rhett’s relationship ‘mistakes’, at least those that Beck knew about, hadn’t been the other male’s fault whatsoever. Much as he loathe to admit it, their fallout was Beck’s fault and his alone, hence why he liked to pass along his own portion of the blame onto Milo and others who had meddled. Surprising himself, he didn’t want to make Rhett feel jealous by talking about his future baby. In fact, even just the slightly softer tone of his ex’s voice was breaking his heart and making him regret bringing up the topic. So yeah, while Rhett might feel perfectly fine bringing up other daddies, Beck made the deliberate decision not to bring up his own future baby. Not now anyways. He tried to think of ways to backpedal, to take the somber expression off of Rhett’s features. Instead, the only word that fell off of his lips was a breathy “sorry.” He didn’t offer more explanation than that and fell silent, looking away from the boy that still held so much of his heart.

    “YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN a job doing something and paid what you could afford. I know good paying jobs require a college degree or whatever but you could have done something menial and paid a small rent until you got on your feet, I don’t know. This just doesn’t seem like your scene.” He shrugged as best as his position allowed and their mutual aggression over the Milo subject makes a sigh leave his lips. “I never said you couldn’t fucking take care of yourself. I’m just saying, he’s not a good person. He screwed me up and then screwed me over -- forgive me for not wanting the same for you.” Beck wouldn’t wish his mistakes on anyone but especially not on Rhett who had never been anything other than lovely in all the time he’s known him. He crossed his arms and brought them up to cover his eyes. The warmth radiating on his skin was a nice sensation on which to focus instead of the anger still boiling in his veins. Having his ex here was bad enough but having his former dealer at the villa had nearly been a dealbreaker. Nearly. Either way, he was glad to hear that Milo won’t be claiming Everett. It made it a little stranger that he was shelling out such exorbitant amounts for Rhett’s education but Beckham was in no position to say that he couldn’t. “I really don’t think it’s anything that you’re doing wrong. Just... trust me, okay? On this one thing. You’ll find someone who perfectly suits all your needs and desires in this whole arrangement, yeah?” It only made him incredibly bitter that it wasn’t going to be him but he hid it well. “And I’ll find someone to spoil absolutely rotten. You know me.” He forced a smile, hoping the rather turbulent turn of their conversation was over.

     BECKHAM WONDERED IF RHETT thought that he only liked fancy things. Although his tastes in clothing were dripping in luxury, his true soft spot had always been a rural blue eyed country boy. Even if Rhett had known that fact at one point, Beck was sure he’d fucked it all up to the point where it was no longer recognizable. Maybe that was for the best. “Well, I’m staying. And you’re staying...” he replied with a casual shrug. Yet another thing they both had in common, perhaps: the dedication to see something through until completion. He listened attentively, shielding his eyes from the sun (though he could have slid his shades back on) as he watched his ex boyfriend’s shadow perched beside him. “I suppose that’s why I was surprised you’d choose a place like this. Most of the daddies here want to dote without you needing to make it up or work it off in any way that isn’t sexual.” He could think of a few who would charge only favors in the bedroom but the idea of someone doing that with Rhett made him visibly shiver. “Don’t get in the habit of owing Milo anything,” Beck bristled, suddenly back on the defensive. “Believe me, that’s a vortex of problems you need to avoid.” He was being genuine, trying to protect the more innocent of the two of them from making the same mistakes as he had. “Honestly, I’d rather not talk about him any more than strictly necessary. Believe it or not, him and I are on worse terms than ... well, you and me.” Beckham stretched out on his towel, shifting to allow for the maximum sunlight on his tanned skin. “What do you mean you’re going about it wrong? You’re fine -- I’m sure, you’re fine. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” God only knows that’s true.

     HE WAS PLEASED TO hear that Everett thought there might be a fabric store on the mainland though he filed away the fact that Rhett hadn’t been often for later. From the way the other male talked, Beck would have thought all the daddies were bringing Rhett on little trips and out shopping, Milo included. “I’ll have to look into it next time I go. If the quality is up to my standards, I might not ever leave the store,” it’s a joke and he allows a brief smile to cross his features. “Not sure the timing will work out -- I’ll probably have the line finished well before I find a suited match. I’d ask my first model to come back for a repeat but he’s still in the real world and, besides, I’d rather he stick with being my breakout line’s image, you know?” Everett probably doesn’t know but he was good to talk to about it nonetheless. He took his gaze back upwards, trying to shake loose the idea of Rhett in his clothes since he knew he’d grow too attached to the idea. “Maybe the isle will get a new shipment of baby boys here soon -- a man can only hope.” Beck crossed his fingers in exaggeration; none would probably compare to Rhett anyways. “Few months, hm,” he drawled with mild interest. “What made you doubt being here? Like, isn’t this enjoyable for you? I would think you enjoy having someone take care of you.” Beck had done his best to do so, after all. Until he couldn’t anymore. “Oh... what’s making it better? Have you found someone then?” It hurt to ask, almost, but he had to know. Beck was, admittedly, a little proud of them for being this civil.

     IT WAS ALMOST LIKE old times, Beckham talking fashion lines and top trends and Everett listening like each word was dusted in the stars themselves. He’d always appreciated his boyfriend’s feedback -- almost especially because the other knew so little about fashion. If he could describe it in a way that Rhett understood and appreciated, it meant Beck was doing something right. Or at least that was how he’d taken it. He gave a light hum of agreement before sinking onto his back on his beach towel, glancing up at the clear sky overhead. “I just want to hang shimmers of gold on every garment,” he sighed wistfully, envisioning a cream and gold color palette, dripping with luxury. His gaze glanced over at Everett and for a flicker of a moment, he could see his ex in an almost sheer top with gold stitches knit together in an ornate design to cover him up. His trousers would be a cream color, maybe even leather if he could pull it together. Everett could pull it off, surely, but unfortunately, he knew he could never go near his ex with his actual garments. They weren’t the other’s style and Beck couldn’t blame him for that. “Probably will order some fabric in if I can’t find what I need on the mainland. I’m staying for as long as it takes me to find a baby to spoil. Maybe he can be the face of my next line.” The image flit through his mind once again -- no one else could suit such an angelic line, could they? “From the looks of things, that may be a while. How long have you been here?”

     “I LIKE TO THINK SO, darlin’, but aside from my very pesky ex, I haven’t actually met all that many boys here, sadly to say. You’re right in that I have had my fair share of female suitors in the past; it always hurts to turn them down since women are so lovely, just not my type. Me and my jawline appreciate the compliments though --- I like you.”

     “BELIEVE ME, I WOULD very much like to show you a good time but I’m also very gay so that might change our definitions of such. I must have the wrong room...”

     TRUTHFULLY, UNDERNEATH ALL THE bitterness and, yes, jealousy that came along with Everett mentioning Milo, Beckham was a little proud that Rhett was looking into renewing his education. He’d always thought his ex boyfriend to be especially bright and the fact that he’d stolen him away to pursue his own dreams had hung guiltily on Beck’s shoulders. He didn’t make enough back then to support both their tuitions, else he would have certainly done what it seems Milo is now all too willing to provide. “That’s good, then. I hope it continues going well for you.” He doesn’t mention Milo again and hopes Everett will follow suit. Beck doesn’t miss the way that Rhett’s jaw tenses and his gaze shifts away for a flicker of a moment. It would seem they’re both stifling something down. “I’m not entirely sure of the direction I want to go. I want it to be ... opulent. Everything about this place screams luxury and I want to embody its lofty elegance in a line that’s inspired by, well, here. I came here for some inspiration and I can already feel it working.” He was talking with his hands, painting out gauzy garments and refined draping techniques on models only he could see in his mind’s eye. He was forgetting that they had more to talk about besides his line and, honestly, it was a blissful lapse of memory.

     “IT IS QUITE A nice vacation spot, all things considered. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a plaything. This place seems to be abundant with them.”

     MILO BEING BROUGHT into their conversation had Beckham’s ordinarily calm demeanor hardening and a steely expression flashing across his eyes. He had no sympathies nor capacity for forgiveness towards the older man and grimaced at the thought of him spoiling Everett so shamelessly. “Reading -- sounds riveting,” he deadpanned, adjusting the aviators perched on his nose before situating himself on the towel in a sprawled out manner that would get him the best sun. “Nothing quite that exciting for me, I’m afraid. Just getting to know some of the babies around here and working on my tan. I have to be looking my best, you know.” He swept a hand down his toned muscles as though he wasn’t in peak physical condition already. “Working on some pieces for a new line as well.” The honest answer was delivered a bit softer; he couldn’t address his passion with the same level of bite in his tone.

     “I DON’T THINK I could handle horrendously cold. Alabama gets chillier than usual but it’s still mild. Lots of rain and clouds this time of year. Nothing quite this nice.”

     “IT’S ALSO DIFFERENT from Alabama and a lot of other places, I’d presume. What’s Finland like though? Not nice this time of year?”