Love Conventions

by Morgan James

  For a moment Ash almost forgot the tight friction pushing him to orgasm as he stared transfixed at Remy’s beautiful face. He couldn’t believe….

  He pulled his body up, head and torso, to bring his face within range. “Kiss me?”

  Remy obliged. He stilled his hips and leaned forward until their mouths met. The kiss was awkward—openmouthed, panting, uncoordinated—and yet not. Neither of them was very smooth right then.

  Remy wrapped his arms around Ash’s shoulders, and Ash pushed himself up into a seated position. They resettled, kissing the whole while, gasping and laughing when they stumbled. They were wrapped up together, Ash still inside Remy and Remy’s limbs around him, holding him close. Then Remy started to… undulate, not really fucking himself so much as grinding their hips together, creating friction with the barest of movement, and bumping his dick up against Ash’s belly.

  It was amazing. Tangled up together, in each other, sharing this moment only they were part of. No one else could know them or this moment the way they did.

  Ash came, trembling, held firmly in Remy’s arms, his face buried in Remy’s neck. And after, he wrapped one arm around Remy’s waist to hold him tight and reached down to stroke him the way he was learning Remy liked, until Remy too gasped and came, shuddering and shaking.

  After they unwound their embrace and tidied up a bit, they lay together in a tangle of sheets, cuddling close, and Ash thought nothing could ever be better.

  THEY woke up before midnight. Ash pressed a kiss to Remy’s lips and murmured, “Stay right here.” He put on his robe and went in search of dessert.

  He was pulling glasses out of the cupboard when he heard the front door unlock. Etta walked in, and he was caught in the act. Wearing nothing but a robe, holding two glasses, and with a tray next to him already laden with shortbread and milk, Ash became acutely aware of how he must look to her: thoroughly shagged.

  His face heated. Unable to move his arms to put down the glasses, he was stuck in an odd pantomime when she caught sight of him.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “How was the date?” She glanced at the tray and smiled.

  Ash blinked. He should run. Though… a small, surprising part of him wanted to tell her everything—not in detail or to brag, but just to share. “It was really good,” he blurted. And then wanted to sink into the floor.

  Etta grinned wide. “Good. I’m glad you had a ‘really good’ date.”

  Ash swallowed, mouth dry. “Thanks. Erm, how was your night?”

  “Great. The ladies are awesome.” She kicked off her shoes and hung up her coat. “We went to Chellie’s for pizza and beer, watched Jupiter Ascending and Wonder Woman.” She covered up a yawn. “Anyway. It’s bedtime. Enjoy the rest of your date.” She winked and waved at him as she sauntered through the flat toward her door. “Night, Remy,” she called softly as she passed by the door to the master suite.

  “Night” came the choked-laughter response.

  Face burning, Ash finally got unstuck, placed the glasses on the tray, and hurried back to his room, where Remy was lounging on the bed. He sat propped up on pillows, with only his groin and one leg covered by the sheet, in a manner which might grace the front of a romance novel, and he was shaking with silent laughter.

  Ash shut the door firmly behind him—using his behind—and rested against it for a moment. He glared halfheartedly. “Stuff it, you,” he grumbled, which only made Remy laugh harder.

  “Oh God. It was funny before, but now that I see your face….” He gave an exaggerated wipe to one cheek, as if brushing away tears. “So good.”

  Ash narrowed his eyes. Then he strode across the room, put the tray on his bedside table, and crawled onto the mattress. He straddled Remy’s thighs and looked down at him. “What about my face?” he asked, putting in a bit of Zvi’s growl.

  Remy shivered, and his eyes went wide. Then he cupped Ash’s face in warm palms, murmured, “Nothing. It’s lovely,” and leaned in for a long, slow kiss.

  “As much as I’d love to explore this further,” Remy murmured as their noses bumped together, “you brought me dessert.” He leaned back and away, stretched his torso across the pillows, and reached for the cookies.

  Surprised, Ash didn’t react until Remy already had a bite in his mouth. “Gee, thanks,” he drawled.

  “No prob.” Remy stuffed his half-eaten cookie into Ash’s mouth. Reflexively Ash bit, chewed, and moaned. The shortbread was flaky and sweet with a taste of cocoa. The chocolate layer on top was dark and rich, and was that a hint of salt?

  Remy nodded. “Yeah. I sprinkled some sea salt on top.” He looked thoughtful. “I like it.”

  “Oh, well, if you like it….”

  “Look, we all know I’m the food guy in this relationship.”

  Ash’s mind went to mush. “Aye. Ye are.” And he leaned in for a chocolate-sweet kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  THEY woke late the next morning. Ash found himself camped on the edge of the mattress, as usual, and he smiled softly. Then he got out of bed, cleaned up in his en suite to make himself presentable enough for Etta, threw on joggers and a tee, and headed out to make breakfast. Remy would want to make them omelets, but by now Ash knew well enough how to prepare veggies for them.

  When Remy emerged, hair tousled and eyelids heavy, he was wrapped in Ash’s robe. Ash swallowed. For all the nights Remy had stayed over, he’d never borrowed clothes before.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning,” Remy murmured, his voice sleep rough. He pressed up to place a tender kiss to the corner of Ash’s mouth and then rumbled a sleep-zombie–like, “Coffeeee,” and moved on.

  Remy made omelets, and they sat at the breakfast bar to eat them. Per their new habits, Ash grabbed his latest book and flipped it open, and Remy read the news on his phone.

  Ash had pushed his plate aside and pulled Hidden Figures closer, and was lingering with his second cup of tea when Remy grunted a noise of surprise. Ash looked over and saw Remy frowning at his phone as he typed quickly. After his thumbs stilled, Ash hummed an inquiry.

  “Nothing. Just… an email from an old prof. Was surprised to hear from him.”

  Ash waited for more, but Remy shook his head and changed the subject.

  “I heard from Nisha. She’s being sent to a conference in Winnipeg.” He wrinkled his nose. “Apparently it was in Vancouver last year.” He sighed gustily. “Just my luck.”

  Ash pressed a consoling kiss to his forehead. “Maybe she can come for a holiday? Maybe later this summer or in the fall.”

  “Maybe,” Remy said slowly, though he didn’t sound confident.

  Ash cleared his throat. “I’ve got the office… I know it’s a small room, but it’s big enough to crash in if she wants.”

  The somewhat subdued mood fell away, and Remy smiled at him with such tenderness that Ash struggled not to look away. “Ashland Wells, you are a treasure and a sweet man. I’ve no idea what I’ve done to deserve you.”

  Ash colored. “Don’t be daft. She’s your dearest friend. How could I not put her up?”

  Remy smiled. “Indeed.” Then he leaned in and pressed several happy kisses to Ash’s willing mouth.

  OVER the course of the next week, Ash tried to hold on to those memories of being warm and cozy in his kitchen, as he spent several nights stuck in a public park thanks to the latest episode. Darn vampires and their need for night shoots. Though he supposed he should be grateful Mythfits didn’t have nearly as many calls on location or during the night as Restraint. They’d had a bit of a dark and gloomy obsession, and during those six years, Ash had miraculously grown even paler—to makeup’s discontent—while hidden away from the sun.

  On the second night in the park, Janet showed up and watched them for an hour. She stood on the sidelines, her expression pinched and unhappy, and stayed silent even after the director called cut.

  By the following night, Ash was shattered and looking a little racoon-eyed. He was ready for a long night’s
sleep and the weekend.

  We’re still on tomorrow right? Remy texted on Friday, and Ash answered with a Yes before falling into bed.

  Ash woke up late on Saturday and cursed when he saw the clock read half eleven. He rushed through the day’s to-do list, without Etta’s help as she was teaching, and barely got home from the grocery store before Remy arrived.

  They settled in the kitchen, where Ash chopped vegetables and meat and shredded cheese under Remy’s directions while Remy made up some sauce and mixed up pizza dough.

  He was pulling it out of the bowl to knead by hand when his phone chimed on the counter. Remy cleaned off his hands and then frowned as he read the text.

  “Hey, Nish and I were supposed to hang out tomorrow, but she has to cancel—family stuff. Do you mind if we chat a bit now?” He chewed his lip.

  Ash tried not to frown at the veg—he didn’t want Remy to misinterpret the reason—and said, “Of course I don’t mind. I told you she’s welcome here.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured and kissed Ash’s cheek. He propped up his phone, dialed, and Nisha’s face appeared.

  “Hey. How are you?”

  Ash zoned out of the conversation and got lost in the rhythm of chopping—while his technique had improved, he was still laughably slow—and let Remy and Nisha have their time together.

  When Ash ran out of things to chop, he tuned back in to discover Remy pressing the dough into pans as he chatted about the Hollmans’ French bulldogs.

  Ash settled next to him at the counter, waiting for further direction.

  “Thanks for buying the groceries,” Remy said and kissed his cheek. Ash glanced at the tablet. Nisha wore a smile. Happiness curled in his belly at being seen like this.

  Feeling daring, he set his hand on Remy’s hip, out of view of the camera, and squeezed. “No worries.”

  Remy smiled and leaned into him, and Ash settled his arm comfortably around Remy’s waist. He took a sip of his wine.

  “Don’t you look happy,” Nisha said over her own wineglass.

  Remy hummed in agreement. “How’s work? Anything new and exciting?”

  She nodded and told them about working on the launch material for a game she couldn’t yet name or describe in public.

  Ash tilted his head to rest his cheek against Remy’s curls. They’d grown long, unshorn since Remy’s move.

  “What about you? Still enjoying a life of unsecure employment?” Nisha asked.

  Remy frowned at her. “Yes,” he gritted. “It’s a good job, lots of good people.” He leaned into Ash.

  “Right.” Nisha gave a knowing look. “With no guarantee of advancement or stability—just what you were hoping for.”

  Remy wrinkled his nose. “Don’t remind me.”

  Ash squeezed him. “Janet wants to use your script next year. Might lead to more.”

  “She said she wants the rights so she can maybe use it next year if there is another season,” Remy pointed out.

  “Still,” Ash said.

  “That’s awesome. Why didn’t I know about this?” Nisha demanded.

  Remy’s cheeks pinked. “It just happened. And there’s a good chance it won’t lead to anything. I mean, Mythfits has to get picked up for season two, and even if it does, the showrunners have to still want to do it and it has to fit with the plan, and—”

  “It’s still a victory,” Ash said softly.

  “Definitely,” Nisha agreed.

  Remy shrugged and smiled. “I guess.”

  “You start your novel yet?”

  “Novel?” The only time Remy had ever mentioned writing a book had been in jest.

  Remy waved him off. “She’s not serious.”

  “Yes, I am.” Nisha pointed at him. “I’m always serious when it comes to following your dreams.”

  Remy rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

  “Right, you’ve only been saying ‘when I write a book’ for ages, but you don’t actually want to do it.” She sighed and turned to Ash. “See what he’s like? I know he wants to.”

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe,” Remy said, but it sounded like yes. “But who makes a living at that? Besides, don’t let Nisha fool you. She just wants to say she knows an author.” He stuck out his tongue.

  She grinned. “It’s true. I really want to brag about it. I’ve already been telling people my friend writes for TV.”

  “Of course you are.” Remy shook his head.

  Ash excused himself to the bathroom. Finished, he opened the door, then paused. Remy and Nisha were whispering heatedly enough to be heard across the open plan.

  “—want to be sure you’re sure about him.”

  “Yes. I am,” Remy said firmly.

  There was nowhere to hide in the flat, and feeling awkward, Ash slowly stepped out of the bathroom. Remy spotted him, smiled, and said a little louder, “I should let you go. Almost pizza time.”

  “Uh-huh. Good to meet you again, Ash,” Nisha said. Then after lots of “love yous,” Remy hung up.

  “Thanks for that,” he said. Ash waved it away. “No, talking to her means a lot to me, and I would have been bummed to miss her this weekend. So thank you.”

  “I wouldn’t say no,” Ash pointed out.

  “I know but…. Look, it’s not like I know a lot of people around here, so these calls are important.”

  Ash stepped in close and pressed a hand to Remy’s cheek. “I get it.” He kissed Remy’s forehead. “Are you… are you lonely here?”

  Remy shrugged. “Not when I’m with you.”

  “I’m glad.” He kissed his lips. “But that didnae answer my question.”

  “A little. I mean, most of the other writers work from home, and I tried to find a beer league, but it’s the wrong season. Meeting people to make friends when you don’t have school is hard,” he added, sounding bewildered.

  “Well, you have me,” Ash said, and Remy nodded. “And Etta. And the cast. They all love you. And that has nothing to do with me. Actually I think they might like you better.”

  Remy laughed. “They do not.”

  “Hmm. I’m pretty sure they do—and I cannae blame them. You’re very likeable.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yup. I’ve no doubt that after you’ve been here for longer than a couple of months, you’ll be well-popular. I’ll have to schedule you in advance.”

  “Never,” Remy swore dramatically. “I’ll always have time for you.”

  They were mid-snog and Ash was wondering how to ask for more when the timer sounded.

  “That’s the pizza,” Remy murmured.

  “One last kiss.” Ash brushed their lips softly together.

  “Pizza,” Remy laughed and pulled away.

  Right, time for dinner. And it would be a shame if their hard work burned. Better to put the snogging on hold.

  There was always later.

  BY the time Ash arrived at work on Monday morning for the table read, he was rested and ready for another week. Days off with Remy cured all.

  The regular cast and crew, but none of the guest stars, were gathered around the table when Janet arrived.

  She wore an expression even more pinched and unhappy as she settled into a chair, every one of her fortysomething years writ large.

  “What’s going on?” Michael asked.

  Janet sighed. “Bad news. The network has decided that we’re too hot to handle, too ‘controversial.’” She blew out a breath, and Ash’s stomach sank. “As of today, they’re quietly pulling us off the air.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ASH ate another spoonful of ice cream and watched Jonathan kick the jerkface off Cake Wars. Ash had waited all series for the talentless idiot to get his just desserts, but he took little satisfaction from it.

  He ate more vanilla ice cream and frowned at the carton. He loved vanilla, but it wasn’t best for moping.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “It’s open.”

  Remy walked in, his
shoulders slumped. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Remy kicked off his trainers, shuffled across the flat, and flopped onto the couch. “Today sucks.”

  “Aye.”

  “Why—” He cleared his throat. “I knew TV was fickle, but….”

  “Yeah.” Ash handed over the tub and spoon. “Yer subject to other people’s whims in this business. One person green-lights ye, and another bins ye.”

  “‘Bins’?” Remy blinked. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Two beers. Etta said was too pathetic to drink more ’an that ’fore four.” Ash slumped and leaned toward Remy.

  “Right.”

  “Too shattered to ’member Canadian.”

  Remy gave a weak smile. “If I wasn’t so sad and worried right now, that adorable sentence would have gotten you laid.”

  Ash swallowed, and though he was no’ in the mood either, he enjoyed for a moment the thought of bare skin pressed together, Remy slick and—

  “Where’s Etta?”

  “Getting tea. And more ice cream.”

  “Oh. That’s nice of her.”

  “Aye.” Ash nodded. “Though she says it’s to save her from negligence charges, else I’d waste away.”

  Remy snorted, shimmied closer, put his head on Ash’s shoulder, and passed him the spoon. “What are we watching?”

  Ash looked at the TV and squinted. The program had changed. “I’m no’ sure.”

  Remy snorted again. On-screen a woman plated fish and covered it with… chocolate drizzle?

  “What?”

  “Ah dunno. Change the channel?”

  Ash grunted and Remy swiped the remote from the coffee table. “We need comfort viewing,” he announced.

  Twenty minutes later Etta found them cuddled together and watching the season two premiere of Supergirl.

  She shook her head at them but didn’t hesitate to join or share the sushi.

  “THE fans are pissed,” Remy said the following morning at breakfast.

  News of the cancellation had leaked the night before.