After Alexander, I take on another gay romance, albeit lower-budget, film, A Home At The End Of the World, with more explicit scenes between myself and Dallas Roberts.

It's released on July 23 in the US. I wanted to explore that avenue of films and I like it. When I close my eyes, I can pretend for a second that I'm kissing Jared, and that second is euphoric. It only leaves me hungrier, though.

Jared and I have stayed in touch, if the definition includes one-sided conversations. He's got photoshoots with L'Uomo Vogue Magazine in July and August, among other things, so I tell myself he's just busy.

Besides, in September, OUT magazine puts his face on the cover with the caption "Alexander's Man," and, honestly, what more could I ask for in this lifetime or the next?!

On November 16, Alexander premieres at Grauman's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, Los Angeles.

I'm so fucking pissed because they cut my kisses with Jared out. The theatrical cut has the balcony scene, but Stone has said that it won't be in any future cuts. I hear he's getting trouble from a bunch of Greek lawyers for what they think is a historically inaccurate portrayal of their national hero, so his hands are a bit tied. This happens to directors all the time. Scenes get cut. But these scenes were important to me.

Jared looks dashing on the red carpet. His hair is now short and side-swept. While I prefer it long, I don't believe there is a hairstyle he couldn't rock. Meanwhile, my hair is now brown.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fucking fuuuuck; I can't even breath. He's just too damn gorgeous, even more than I remember. I thought maybe some time apart would allow my feelings to simmer down and abate somewhat, but no such luck. I'm still as obsessed with him as I was the moment I first laid eyes on him, if not more.

ET interviews Jared, Angelina and myself on the red carpet.

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"Settle the rumours for me, man," the interviewer implores me. "You're kissing a lot of people, right?"

"I'm kissing nobody, man," I reply somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Now that he mentions it, I suppose I do have steamy scenes with many people. Not that Alexander actually loved them all.

"Angelina, Rosario, wh-what is, what's the rumours? Settle it right now."

"Nooo, it's just me and Jared. Just me and Jared."

"Alright; alright, good."

I hover around within earshot while he interviews Jared.

"What's up with Colin? Do you like him blond or brunet? What's the deal?"

Jared hesitates, laughing.

"I-I like him however he comes. I-I'm a fan, all the way across the board."

A warmth seeps into my chest at that.

"You guys worked really close in this movie. Like, did you guys have a special bond at all?"

Jared lowers his gaze. Fuck yeah, we did.

"We did, we got along famously, and I met him before this, uh, so I knew that he was a good guy and had a great heart."

The movie premiere is over, but we're doing non-stop promotion. Jared spends the evening strolling through Soho with his friend Jonathan St. Gian, the guy who always accompanied him as Claudine does me. He's sort of an assistant and friend.

The next day, Jared, Val, Angelina, Stone and myself answer questions from the audience following the Variety screening of Alexander at the ArcLight Theater in Hollywood. Jared and I are both wearing our medallions, but nobody notices.

Part of why it was so fun to recreate this world, Stone tells the world, is that we have no concept of what it was really like. We have no concept of that era, of Babylon, or any of the places and cities. The beauty of the film could be to pass a few hours in Greek time, he posits. Everything Stone has worked on so far is related to America. American culture is interesting, but there's so much more to explore. The mind-frame he's in right now, he prefers these ancient worlds.

On set, Stone was all down to business with talk of shot-reverse-shots and two-shots and montages and point-of-view shots.

Speaking to the audience, he's choc-full of philosophical musings like: "I look at the film as one long day. Maybe I made a mistake in my thinking. Maybe life is one long drive..." and "what I do is prostitution. I stage something publicly that's held inside, private. Yes, it's an active prostitution; prostitution makes public the private. And, you know, people are going to see me naked. I feel like I am naked like a prostitute. Everyone can say, she's pretty, she's ugly, she's my type; everyone has an opinion of you."

When people ask me, do you ever wanna direct? I answer: yeah, I'm gonna isolate myself from the crew, put some black sheets up, and stay in my little fucking hovel like a certain Oliver Stone.

On November 21, I arrive in NYC and paparazzi cameras flash as I embrace Jonathan St. Gian and Jared.

"'Sup, my gay boy," Jonathan greets me.

I feign a cough. 

"You know, whether Alexander was gay or not is heavily contested," I wisecrack.

"Oh, yeah. Straight historians be like: and these two platonic sword mates often practiced kissing for their future wives and even bought each other wedding rings to get used to wearing them for when they finally found the right woman," he deadpans.

"Interestingly," Jared adds, "moaning could often be heard from their friendship tent when they were alone..."

"...thus providing historical evidence of ghosts," I supply with a snicker.

We go off to lunch debating who was top and who was bottom, trilling with laughs.

The next day is the Special Screening of Alexander at Lincoln Center. What follows is a private after-party at EN near the meat-packing district, which Angelina completely forgets about. She cancels her booking at the Spice Market, however, and joins us.

After dinner, Angelina goes home to look after little Maddox. I go across the street and smoke some while Jared slips across town to a nightclub called Butter, and then I go partying with Jared, because I'm drawn to him and I can't help it. We're there with Paris Hilton and Sean Lennon, who were at the LA premiere of Alexander a week earlier, and who seem to have the hots for Angelina.

I dance with Jared at the club. Beams of light flashing, strobes pulsing, bass throbbing, we get down to the beat and just have fun, laughing and sweating and throwing back drinks. I think it's fair to say that I am being accosted by girls, but I don't want anything to do with them. I need it rough now. Can't stand the soft, sweet hands. Want thick thighs and body hair and muscle and stubble and a rough touch, just crazy, hard, rough lovemaking tonight. 

But I'm unable to keep Jared by my side, losing him to enthusiastic throngs of partiers, so I decide to call it a night and head home. This doesn't faze Jared, who continues partying over at the Bungalow 8 nightclub.

Angelina isn't trying to contact me, and I suspect it has something to do with a certain man named Brad. She and I are doing a lot to promote the movie, Angelina on "Good Morning America", and myself on "Letterman", "Live! with Kelly", and "Late Night with Conan O'Brien."

Jared and I are the talk of the town. We've shared the "it" girls of the decade: Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Lindsay Lohan. Jared was also with Scarlett Johansson, but she didn't play much of a role for him. She was out of the picture shortly after the West Hollywood premiere of Alexander, and celebrated her 20th birthday on November 21 at Disneyland, without him. She's thirteen years younger than him and means about as much to him as a flesh-light in my humble opinion.

There's a lot going on in our lives. Jared has been busy recording "A Beautiful Lie."

Angelina has been having a secret affair with Brad Pitt.

I have a 14-month-old baby boy by a woman I can't stand, from whom I separated before his birth. My precious son was also diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder. I don't like talking about it. I'm not ready to be a dad and shit, not ready to abandon my partying ways quite yet or give up the red wine during interviews.

I drink and I drink, to escape my problems. I know that one day it'll catch up with me and I'll need to change my ways, but today is not that day.

***

On November 24, the film goes into wide theatrical release.

I get to see Jared again at this world premiere, and what a sweet reunion it is. I swear he gets more beautiful every time I see him. I'm still getting used to the short hair, but it almost makes him cuter, if that's even possible.

I hardly look at the camera, because I'm so enraptured by his face. Seriously, I've never looked at a more beautiful face.

Feeling elated and unstoppable, drunk on his proximity, I lean in close to Jared's ear and whisper, "I'm harder than Shannon's drumming right now."

As is my wont, I stick around while Jared is being interviewed, so I can be the first to hear what he has to say about me. He knows, and fucks with me by practically deepthroating a banana in front of the camera. The interviewer asks for a bite and Jared jokes that they'll be officially engaged if he takes one. Flirty little brat knows exactly what he's doing, stirring me up...

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"I understood as soon as I read the script that it was about love," Jared explains on a more serious note. "Robin Lane Fox, who wrote this amazing biography, the first thing he said to me was, the only thing you need to know about Alexander and Hephaestion is the love that they had for each other."

When asked about playing the role, Jared says: "It was, it was, ah... I loved the character Hephaestion and, uh, it was easy for me to understand the relationship and all the parameters, so it was cool..."

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Easy for him to understand the relationship, huh? I don't dare ask him what he meant by that, preferring to savour the idea that he might have felt an inkling for me of what I felt for him while we were shooting.

I love watching these interviews. Jared is so shy and beautiful and takes compliments with such grace.

Sitting beside him on a stage and talking about the movie, I'm just so impressed by him over and over again.

Angelina, Stone, Rosario, Jared and I also make a very special and fun appearance on "The View" today where we discuss all the silly hookup rumours going around about us cast members.

Towards the end of the day, the cast is ready to party. I ditch the others and follow Jared around, to one's surprise.

We're in Hollywood, so the party is obviously lit. There's a pool and endlessly flowing drinks and lots of beautiful women, but the highlight of the evening is that Jared is there with me and I'm so buzzed that I don't even care anymore if I'm following him like a lost puppy; I just want to be near him at any cost.

I make sure to drink enough so that Jared is afraid to leave me alone. I stay in his hotel room overnight and we just hold each other. Well, he holds my head up so I don't puke. I hold him.

The next morning, I borrow a pair of Jared's jeans and his black dress shirt and hope no one notices.

I'm feeling so horny, after lying next to him all night. It's like I'm nineteen years old again. So here I am, fondling the junk of this Madame Tussaud NYC wax figure, when a camera flash indicates I've been caught.

We sign quite a few blowups of my favourite scenes today.

Sitting beside Jared on the couch between events, I put my arm around him and not only does he not throw it off but he leans his head on my shoulder. Long after it goes numb, I keep it there, drawing circles absently on his upper arm. He's comfortable and distracted and I want nothing more than to be a comfortable constant in the background for him. Drinks and cigarettes and chicks can fuck right off; I'm happy here.

The next day, we do some more Q&A and then jump right back to celebratory partying.

When it's time to leave, I curse the hour, the end of the movie promotion, everything. We get a ride back to the hotel, and Jared and I make our way back to our separate rooms.

It's really over now. Somehow, I'm going to have to make peace with the fact that Jared and I just aren't meant to be. That's life. Things don't always turn out the way you want or expect.

My room is first on our way. I stop and give Jared a pained smile before unlocking the door.

"See you bright and early tomorrow morning," I manage, tight-lipped.

I step past the threshold and go to close the door when Jared surprises me by bunching my collar in his fist, slamming me against a wall and mashing our mouths together. My mouth falls open and suddenly it's filled with Jared's tongue. Pulse whipping through my veins, I grip his face with trembling hands and kiss the shit out of him. The stubble and aggressive tongue action are like nothing I've ever experienced in a kiss before.

"So fuckin' irritating..." Jared glares at me, breaking the kiss to lock the door.

I'm not sure if I'm dreaming when Jared spins us around and pushes me onto the bed, smouldering bedroom eyes boring into mine. I lay there, dazed, while he crawls on top of me. He's muttering things under his breath, ripping off our clothes one by one. I'm practically catatonic with shock, can hardly muster up the coordination to help.

The body I lusted over for so long is stunning. He's got thick thighs, hard slabs of hot skin, well-groomed body hair, every limb roped with muscle.

"Vacant, vapid, stupid, perfect..." Jared is muttering the words like curses as he kisses and nips my skin. My fingers hesitate to touch his, as though it were fire.

But when the pads land on his back, I swallow the lump in my throat and breathe, "your skin is so soft." Then he's kissing me again, and my head is spinning.

Jared spits into his palm and reaches behind himself, eyes falling shut and mouth falling open. I can only watch with hungry eyes, and fight to suck oxygen into my lungs.

"Never been with a man," I pant softly, pleadingly, "want you..."

Jared's hands are around my throat next, and his heat around my member, and the groan that falls from my lips sounds alien, animalistic.

It's crazy, hard, rough lovemaking, with a forbidden undercurrent as sweet as wine. Is this what Alexander felt like, rolling around in a tent with Hephaestion, wearing only sweat, dirt, and the blood of men he had killed?

Jared is like none of the women I've ever been with; he's a firm but tender lover, a little prickly but hotter for it.

"Come on, Hephaestion! Give it to me!" I come alive, squeezing his ass in my hands and thrusting upwards at a punishing pace. Jared plants both hands on my chest and leans over my face, lips parted, pupils blown wide with lust, and slick strands of hair framing his perspiring face.  

It's rushed, our pace hurried and frantic.

I yell out my release, and Jared's palm immediately bears down on my mouth, silencing me. He rides me a little longer before slumping on top of me, gasping and twitching and damp from head to toe.

He rolls onto his back, and stares at the ceiling with the look of a man fully satisfied.

"Fucking tease," I rasp. "You made me so hard, all those months, and all along you wanted to fuck me too."

"Did I?" Jared's smirk is suave, swoon-worthy, dark.

"Your ass did some incredible things to my dick just there," I go on, panting. "That wasn't your first time, was it?"

"Wasn't it?"

"Fuck your. Just admit that you're gay."

"Am I?" 

"No, you're not gay," I scoff. "You just like having sex with men."

Jared grins devilishly as he rises to his feet and starts rummaging for his clothes.

The atmosphere is quiet and somewhat awkward as he redresses.

"It was really nice," I venture timidly at length.

He pauses and just looks at me. A slight smirk kicks up the corner of his lips.

I doubt we'll ever do this again. Maybe we'll find each other at celebrity galas and awards shows, and have hot, sweaty sex in some bathroom stall. But it's enough, being here with him right now. What I just did, transcending myself, achieving something I never thought I could, going to places I never dreamed of... I think that makes me a bit of an Alexander. And it feels exhilarating.

I don't think it's possible for me to be happy without him, or have a stable relationship with any woman, after this. Not anymore. I'll be miserable and depressed for the rest of my life if we don't find our way back to each other.

But the sultry, knowing wink Jared flashes me on his way out the door tells me this time won't be our last, and there are incredible things in store for our secret little relationship.