Love Conventions

by Morgan James

  Etta snorted into her ginger-lemon tea. “Of course they are.”

  “You should see some of these comments.”

  Ash shrugged and kept his head down. Not today. He wasn’t ready. He stared hard at his open book, trying to focus on the words. He’d pulled out Awake and Dreaming because he didn’t have the energy for anything but children’s lit.

  Maybe he couldn’t manage even that.

  “Shit. This thread has twenty tweets.”

  “About?” Etta cocked her head.

  “Mostly about the homogeny of Hollywood. Damn. This is some well-worded and intelligent ire.” Remy ran his finger up the tablet. “‘Once again a show underrepresenting straight white dudes gets pulled for upsetting the very same.’”

  Etta held up a fist for Remy to bump. “Nice.”

  Ash bit his lip and scowled at his blurring pages. He blinked several times and tried not to think about all the others—the people who hated them, him, enough to get a show canceled.

  “Oh man, someone was angry enough to search out a Samuel L. Jackson stupid-ass-decision gif.”

  Etta snorted. “Aging but good. It applies to so much in life.”

  Remy gave a chuckle and agreed.

  Ash tightened his lips.

  “Oooh, look.” Remy leaned toward him, and Ash finally looked up.

  The screen had a picture of someone sobbing and eating ice cream. Despite himself, Ash read the text underneath: tfw you discover you’re never going to see Niamish come to fruition.

  Ash stared. He wanted to feel moved that this viewer cared, but….

  “They hate us.”

  “Huh?” Remy pulled the phone back and frowned at the screen.

  “Naw, no’—how can you…. They hate enough to get us canceled. Ah dinnae….” Ash huffed and looked down at his book. “How can you even—” Ash shrugged and didn’t finish the thought.

  “Because the fans’ outrage helps make it better? I get that some people were dipshits with the complaining, but the people who aren’t, the ones who like us, they’re being louder right now. And that gives me hope.” Remy reached out and tangled their fingers together. “The world is always gonna suck, which is why you gotta give more energy to the less sucky parts.”

  Ash looked at their hands and the way Remy’s slim darker fingers curled snugly against his own—so different and yet a perfect match. When he lifted his head, Remy met his gaze unflinchingly. Ash leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet.

  LIFE fell into a new routine after that. Remy stayed over more nights than not, given neither of them had anywhere pressing to be most days and Remy’s dog-walking clients lived closer to Ash.

  Ash could take a few weeks to mourn before trying to find a new gig. He only wished Remy could do the same.

  Remy asked his few clients to send any other pet owners his way and then began to search job sites in earnest. He spent too much time sitting on Ash’s couch, staring at his computer screen, and chewing on his lower lip.

  Remy glanced up, caught Ash staring, and said, “Stop being a creeper and tell me if I should apply to these people.”

  Ash rolled his eyes and settled closer to see the screen. “A temp agency?”

  Remy blew out a loud breath. “Yeah I know. But at least I would be making some money.”

  “You know,” Ash said awkwardly, “if you ever need a-a loan—”

  Remy shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to—but thank you. That you’re offering means a lot.”

  Ash titled his head. “Okay. Um, obviously I’m offering because I fancy you a wee bit, but….” He blew out a breath. “You do know I’m comfortable enough to give any mate a hand, aye?”

  Remy stared at him, then leaned forward to plant a hard, passionate kiss to his mouth.

  “Um.” Ash licked his lips. His trousers were growing tight. “What was that for?”

  “For wanting to look after me, even if I clearly can’t let you. Now shut up and tell me if you think I should apply to this agency.”

  “If I shut up, how can I—”

  Remy shoved a hand in his face and pushed him away, then slipped it down to his shoulder and pulled him back. “Numpty,” he said with such fondness Ash’s insides melted. He wasn’t sure what his face did, but Remy turned pink and leaned in for another kiss. At least, Ash thought, as he slid his hands up Remy’s shirt, he still had this.

  JULY passed by in an unemployed haze and came to a close. The hot dry summer days stretched into August, and Ash admitted to Etta that maybe, four weeks on, it was time to consider letting his agent send him new scripts.

  He didn’t email her.

  Instead he went for another run and skipped the gym, again, to avoid weight training. Motivation to keep up the Hamish physique—in shape but not hulking—had died. At least the running—and the long nights with Remy in bed—would keep him from gaining fifty pounds from all the ice-cream binges.

  He stuck to a familiar route, headed south to loop round Queen Elizabeth Park, and got home a few hours later, tired and boggin. Then he laid out his yoga mat and stretched until he’d cooled down enough to take a shower.

  Dressed in old jeans and a lightweight hoodie, Ash was chopping vegetables for an omelet when Remy arrived.

  “Hey, you,” Remy said sweetly and leaned in for a slow snog. Ash gripped the knife tightly and pinned his knuckles to the counter. He didn’t want to forget about the blade while under the tease of Remy’s tongue.

  “’Lo,” Ash murmured against his mouth. Remy huffed a laugh, and the puff of air tingled against Ash’s wet lips.

  “Dork.” He pressed a quick, closed-mouthed kiss to Ash’s lips and pulled away. “What are you making me for lunch?”

  Ash snorted. “I thought I’d show off my omelet skills, now that you have me trained.”

  Remy hummed. “I do, don’t I.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave Ash a once-over. His leer was reminiscent of the one he’d given Ash two nights ago when he pulled the antique cock ring out of his pocket with a guilty shrug. “So I forgot to gift it,” he’d said not so innocently. Ash had thought wearing it might be embarrassing, but as he lay spent and exhausted over an hour later, embarrassing wasn’t the word that came to mind.

  Now, despite himself and the several rounds of sex they’d had over the past month, Ash blushed.

  “Well.” He cleared his throat. “Now I know what you like and have some practice, I figured I could show you.”

  “Mmm, Ash? How hungry are you?” Ash lifted his gaze; Remy watched him with dark eyes and lowered lashes. “Because I’m a bit peckish, but I’m really hungry.”

  Ash’s stomach swooped with anticipation. “Lunch can wait,” he said, surprised at how deep his voice sounded.

  Remy shivered, grinned, and dragged Ash to his bedroom.

  Later, after they were sated and curled up together, Remy picked the coin up off Ash’s chest and smoothed it between his fingers. “I’ve never seen you without this.”

  Ash hummed.

  “Can I ask about it? I mean, I see you touch it sometimes, under your shirt….”

  “My da found it on the street, which was luck in itself, it’s an old coin. But that night Maw told him she was pregnant again, so he figured it was the luckiest of coins and had it strung.”

  “Oh,” Remy said softly.

  “Da died when I was wee. Forgot to wear this that day.” Ash reached down and picked the coin up, felt the familiar unicorn pattern beneath his thumb. “There was an accident.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, when I got older, Langston and Maw said I should have it. I dinnae remember him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Remy whispered.

  “No’ your fault.” He turned onto his side, settling face-to-face, and smiled. “Wearing it is like getting to know him. Besides, I wear it always, and I have you, so it must be lucky.”

  “Must be,” Remy said softly and leaned in to kiss him. “I never knew my dad. Was just me and Mom, until Stepdad.”

  “I’
m sorry,” Ash whispered.

  “Don’t be. We were fine without him.” He didn’t sound bitter or sad, just honest. “Besides—Stepdad did all right.”

  Once their stomachs started growling, they got back into clothes and stumbled out to the kitchen on wobbly knees. Or at least Ash did. Remy’s tongue always took some time to recover from.

  They made quick work of the omelets and soon settled with them on the couch. Remy moaned over his and several times leaned in close to brush a thank-you kiss against Ash’s cheek. “Best boyfriend ever,” he murmured.

  “I try,” Ash said shyly. Contentment filled him, and he could almost forget the melancholy of the past month. “You know I’m grateful, yeah? This month sucked, but it sucked less with you.” Even the prospect of a new job didn’t seem daunting.

  That earned him a lingering kiss.

  “And I’m glad you made me listen to all those tweets about fans missing us.” They had eased the hurt, eventually.

  “Good.” Remy ran his knuckles along Ash’s jaw.

  “And for helping me remember we still did good, even if it was a short run.” Maybe he’d even have enough courage to try again, find another nonstraight role.

  “Yeah, you did do good.” He rested his hand around Ash’s neck and swept his thumb back and forth. “It might be a silly fantasy show, but it’s still important. And I’m proud of you for doing it, for helping others to see we’re normal.” He smiled tenderly.

  Last year, in a restaurant, Remy had talked about being out. Ash recalled, as he had many times before, the fierceness in Remy’s gaze, the passion in his words. The memory had shamed him in the past, but pride and satisfaction welled up in him now.

  He swallowed. “Thank you. And you did it too, you know.”

  “Yeah. Helping to fight the bigots, you and me.”

  “Aye. Regular superheroes, us.” Ash nodded seriously.

  “Oh yeah.” Remy smiled and ran his hand down to Ash’s shoulder. “I look great in spandex.”

  Ash laughed. “What, no ripped gloves and trench coat like your namesake?”

  Remy squawked and shoved Ash away. Chuckling, Ash straightened and tried to move in for a kiss, but Remy shoved a pillow in his face.

  With a growl, Ash pushed it away and pounced. Using moves Etta had taught him, he pinned a wriggling Remy beneath him. Ash cupped one hand around Remy’s face and ran his thumb across his cheekbone. “And,” he said softly, “I can never regret Mythfits. It brought you back into my life.”

  “Wow,” Remy murmured, his laughter calming, though the flush remained on his cheeks. He shifted and pulled Ash closer. “That was the most romantic and cornball thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  Ash’s cheeks burned, but he pushed on. “It’s true. I regretted not getting your number the moment you left.”

  “Yeah?” Remy’s nose scrunched under the force of his grin. “Ashland Wells, were you pining after me?”

  Ash looked down, the shyness not entirely an act. “Well, you did shove your face into my crotch….”

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe—I thought we were never mentioning that,” Remy yelped.

  Ash grinned. “Well, it was super memorable.”

  Remy smacked his shoulder. “Ugh. That’s one word for it. Such an idiot.” He paused and considered Ash. “Though… you were a gentleman about it.” Ash preened. “Until now. Bringing it up, you great big jerk.”

  Ash laughed and reeled his boyfriend in for a kiss.

  They cuddled on the couch, their movements slow and lazy, tangled up together, touching for the sake of touching, gently running their hands over each other’s body, on top of clothes.

  Ash had slipped his hand under Remy’s shirt and rested it against the small of his back to palm his warm skin, when his phone rang.

  He pulled away and blinked with surprise. “That’s Janet’s ringtone.”

  Remy stared back with equal shock. “You better answer it. What if she’s got a new project?”

  “That could be good,” Ash said without hesitation. He reached toward the coffee table.

  “Hello?”

  “Ashland.” Janet sounded surprisingly upbeat. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” he said, caution catching his tongue.

  “Great. I got some news.”

  He listened as she spoke and responded only to agree and say goodbye.

  “Well? What did she say?” Remy tapped an impatient staccato on Ash’s thigh.

  “She says the producers have been talking to Netflix.” Ash ruminated over that one. Netflix. “They bought Mythfits. We’re going to finish the season.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “HAMISH!” Jasmine jumped into Ash’s arms, and Ash embraced the hug. Why exactly had he avoided Jasmine for those few Mythfits-less weeks?

  Jasmine hopped down, grinning ear to ear. “Can you believe it?”

  “Naw, I cannae believe it.” He shook his head and grinned back.

  “Darling! Sugarplum!” Michael swanned into the room, followed more sedately by Kim, who was rolling her eyes. More hugs were shared, and Michael, the jerk, planted a smacking kiss to Ash’s forehead. Lastly Miya made her entrance, and the group was complete. Energy buzzed between them. Even Kim displayed her excitement and lifted Miya right off her feet when they hugged.

  Janet called them to order, and like giggling schoolchildren, they settled around the table.

  “I can’t tell you how lovely it is to see you.” She beamed. “The producers have been hashing this out for weeks, almost from the moment news broke about us being canceled, and I wanted so bad to tell all of you, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up. And, you know, I didn’t want to get sued.” Her grin turned wry, and they chuckled. “But we’re here now, rescued by Netflix—who paid a whole whack of money to get us—and the good news keeps coming. First, that episode that got trashed? Netflix wants to add it to the season, on top of the other thirteen filmed or planned.” They cheered. She lifted her phone and waggled it about. “Second, I received an email this morning. ‘Dear Ms. Hum, we are delighted to inform you we successfully booked slots for your show at Seattle Comic-Con.’”

  Jasmine whooped with delight, and Miya squeaked into her hands, her eyes wide. Michael tossed his head back and laughed. Kim’s eyes widened and she muttered, “No way.”

  Ash sat still, an eejit’s grin plastered on his face. Seattle Con was one of the largest in the US, and the second biggest on the west coast.

  Janet raised her voice. “What can I say? Netflix really believes in us. Of course there are details to iron out with your respective people, but all five of you are invited. Keep your calendars clear for August, folks, because we’re going to Washington.” She winked and sat down, and the five of them broke into applause.

  Damn, it was good to be back.

  REMY was back on salary too, which meant more breathing room for him. Ash couldn’t stop grinning after Remy called to confirm his reinstatement.

  “Netflix is already talking about season two, and Janet mentioned my script again.”

  “That’s fab. That—” Ash floundered. “I’m so chuffed for you,” he said at last, softer.

  “Yeah.” Remy’s voice went soft too, and Ash pictured him sitting at home in his living room, maybe curled up in his pajamas and looking invitingly cozy on the couch. If only Ash could join him.

  A week later—and a few times in between—Ash and Remy were curled up together on Ash’s couch and watching Cake Wars when Adele sent a flurry of texts.

  Hallooooooooooo!

  Guess what!

  Guess who’s coming back to Vanny!!

  This guy!

  Attached to the last text was a gif of herself in character saying “I’m back, ladies”—ladies being Moira’s favorite mass noun for her friends.

  Ash rolled his eyes and texted back, How come?

  She called him, of course.

  “We just got everything all confirmed, and I’m guest starring on your
show. Apparently I’m gonna play your boyfriend’s ex.”

  For one disorienting moment, Ash thought, But Remy’s not on the show. Then reality reasserted. “They’re not dating yet.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s where I come in,” she said happily.

  Ash snorted. “When do you fly in?”

  “Wednesday night. Scheduling issues, but they really wanted your former flame for this one. Also, hells yes I want to play a fairy. Anyway, gonna call in to the table read on Monday. Then I’m going to see my boo on Thursday.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ash chuckled.

  “Oh, and I’m not flying out until Saturday afternoon, so you’re mine on Friday night, right?”

  “Right.” He couldn’t have kept the smile from his voice even if he wanted to.

  Remy arched a brow at him after he hung up the phone.

  “Adele. She says she’s playing Niall’s ex. It’ll be good to see her.”

  “You’ve missed her a lot.”

  “Yeah. She’s one of my closest friends.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to meet her.” Remy took his hand, slotted their fingers together.

  “You’ll love her.”

  “The Grace to your Will.” Remy frowned. “No, that would be Etta…. The Karen to your Jack?”

  Ash blinked. “Er, more like, aye. But she doesn’t know, um, about me.”

  “Oh.” Remy froze, apparently taking this in.

  “I just never—I mean, I’ve never really told anyone but Etta and Langston.”

  “Ah. Okay. Good to know.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. Then he tilted it to the side. “You know, the ex-girlfriend’s description matches Adele’s, in the script.”

  Relieved, Ash snorted. “Of course it does. Also, way to warn me about my ‘boyfriend’s’ ex showing up.” He gave Remy’s bicep a light pinch. Remy squirmed away from the touch and burrowed in closer under Ash’s arm.

  “And lose my job? For you?” He smirked, but there was something—“I mean the sex is good, but I’m not sure it’s that good.” He lifted his eyebrows in apparent invitation.