Stealing Pretty

by R. Cayden

  Gray stood up. His boxers were bunched up his leg, and he had to tug them down. “A submarine,” he repeated flatly.

  “Like, could we specifically, like us two, build a submarine? Remember that Horatio is the best mechanic you’ve ever met. And it’s actually not hard to find a design online.”

  Gray wandered through the house, still yawning. “Can you back it up a little bit? Why do you want to build a submarine? We live in Albany.” He arrived at the kitchen and went straight to fumbling with the coffee.

  “It’s just one idea,” Raiden said. “Because of this guy we met at the bar the other night.”

  “This guy?”

  “He’s going to move a bunch of fentanyl through next week, bringing it down the river on the way to Manhattan. Bragged about it and everything, the dipshit.”

  “So you want to what, intercept him on the river?”

  “You see? The submarine doesn’t even have to work for that long. Just like a short-term submarine. A river submarine, not an ocean submarine.”

  Gray grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, then leaned back against the counter as the coffee machine gurgled. He grunted. “Raiden, I need you to promise me right now that you’re not going to try to intercept these people with a homemade submarine. It’s very important to me that you promise, right now, not to do that.”

  There was a slight pause, and Gray heard Raiden breathing heavily and probably grumbling under his breath. “You don’t think I can build a submarine,” he said, like it was an accusation.

  “I think you can build a submarine,” Gray answered. “I just really don’t think you should build a submarine.”

  “He says he thinks I can build it!” Raiden yelled away from the phone. “You owe me fifty bucks, Horatio.”

  By the time Gray convinced Raiden to just call the authorities on this one, he was into his second cup of coffee, and when he hung up the phone, he was finally awake enough to remember the night before.

  “Oh,” he said, the whole thing landing on him at once. “Fuck.”

  Desire stirred in some deep part of Gray. He dragged himself into the bathroom to get ready for another day and tried to wrestle that desire down, knowing it was a bad fucking idea. It was why he had to run away the night before. No matter how beautiful Jameson looked, and no matter how much Gray felt certain that the guy needed him, he needed to keep his dick in his pants.

  He was going to get himself fired. He was going to miss an intruder because he was ogling at Jameson’s ass or jerking it in his bedroom again and thinking about his soft lips. Jameson’s whole life was going to be ruined because of him, and for what? Like Gray could possibly be good enough for one of the most famous actors in the world?

  But then, in the shower, his brain raced over that moment in the parlor and the way Jameson’s lips had felt, closed like a velvet kiss on Gray’s thumb.

  He groaned, then rubbed at his cock, gripping it by the base while the water beat down on his chest. Jameson was always hot, but with makeup on and that glint in his eyes, he made Gray crumble, he was that on fire. It was like something new came alive in him, something that Gray could touch and feel for himself.

  Something that needed room to play.

  With a grunt, he sprayed his load, then finished washing himself up. Whatever he was doing, he needed to give Jameson and himself both a little bit of time. He’d feel like shit if Jameson did something he regretted, and Gray knew that the little bit they had shared was a big deal. The treat Gray had gotten in the parlor was enough to make him sweat through the sheets, and he was going to leave it at that for now.

  But coffee in the morning? That was still on the table. And when Gray spotted Jameson on the back porch, looking over the yard, he yanked his jacket on and stepped into the spring chill to catch a glimpse of that smile.

  “Hi there,” Jameson called out warmly. “Good morning.”

  Fuck, did Gray ever want to unleash on him. He wanted to jump up those stairs, three at a time, then throw Jameson to the ground. He wanted to undress him slowly, then keep him warm in the crisp air. Instead, he held back his primal instincts and cocked his head up with a backward nod. “Morning.”

  From the back porch, Gray realized that Jameson could see down to his house, which he supposed was only fair, considering there were cameras all over the place that he controlled. “You have a busy day today?” he asked as he walked up the porch.

  “Just a meeting with my publicist this afternoon.”

  “If you don’t want to be an actor anymore, why do you still need a publicist?”

  Jameson laughed, and Gray noticed that it sounded different, like there was more happiness in it. “It’s a full-time job, telling people I’m not available,” he said. He had a big blue sweater on over a pair of jeans, and Gray was struck by the way it made the gray and green flash in his eyes.

  Jameson turned over his shoulder, into the house. “Would you like to come in? I was going to make some eggs.”

  “Eggs are great,” Gray answered with a grin.

  He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky that Jameson kept inviting him in more, but he wasn’t complaining. A counter floated in the middle of the wide kitchen, and Gray leaned up on one of several stools while Jameson started pulling stuff out of the fridge.

  “Want any help?”

  “I’m good,” Jameson said. “I was just going to scramble some eggs with cheese, and maybe toast some bread?”

  “Beautiful,” Gray said, repeating the word he’d felt compelled to use the night before. When Jameson brightened, he felt a wave of satisfaction.

  And just like the eggs Jameson was cracking, Gray felt any ability to resist temptation falling to pieces, shattering on the ground at his feet.

  “Have you looked online this morning?” Jameson asked. “I’m pretty sure my whole appointment with my publicist will focus on the movie theater incident.”

  “Oh,” Gray said, surprised. “That quick?”

  Jameson laughed, then started whisking some lemon and milk into the eggs. “It’s the internet. You’d be surprised.”

  Gray laid his hand over his pocket and felt the hard outline of his phone. “I’m sorry,” he said, scolding himself that he had spent the morning fantasizing about the parlor and not thinking of the consequences of their outing for Jameson. “Should I look and tell you about it? Would that help?”

  “Actually,” Jameson said, “it’s not that bad. I had my friend Dee look last night.”

  “Not that bad?”

  “It’s everywhere. The video was, like, one of the most viewed things in the world on Twitter last night. But people loved it this time. They aren’t saying anything nasty or making up scandalous stories.”

  “Holy shit,” Gray said. “I mean, that’s amazing. Right?”

  Jameson turned, then shrugged lightly. “I’ll take it. I’d still rather be able to go to the movies without becoming the most talked-about person in the world, but people aren’t being anywhere near as horrible as some of the other times I’ve had unexpected public appearances.” He poured the eggs into the sizzling pan, then went to scrambling them with the spatula. “Everyone likes it because, in the video, it looks like I’m having fun,” he added. “I’m laughing while we run away, and I guess that makes me seem relatable. At least that’s what my publicist says.”

  “Oh,” Gray said, thinking about it. “Cool.”

  Jameson nodded. “People who laugh in a movie theater aren’t busy having massive satanic orgies at home, apparently.”

  “Either way,” Gray said, “none of their business.”

  Jameson slid the eggs onto a plate, then crossed the kitchen to hand them to Gray. When he stood up to accept the plate, they stepped close, only a few inches between their bodies, and Gray was slammed with the urge to press Jameson against the counter.

  “Thanks again,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Jameson turned his eyes away, then set himself up at a stool. “More good news, by the way. Every
one online just thinks that you’re a bodyguard, and it doesn’t seem your face is in any of the videos.”

  Gray grinned. “Well, I am your bodyguard.”

  “Right,” Jameson said quickly. “I just mean there aren’t any rumors about you or anything.”

  Gray took a bite of the eggs, which were fluffy and perfect, then munched down on the toast. Jameson watched with a smile as he fed himself, the perfect balance of food hitting the exact right spot. “Maybe things are calming down,” Gray said. “Maybe you could even get out of the house more, if you wanted. You know, people are way more accepting of gay celebrities today, too.”

  Jameson froze in place, and Gray immediately realized he had said the wrong thing. He’d had too much coffee before a proper breakfast and then gone and shot his mouth off, and he fucking hated it when he did that. “Sorry,” he blurted. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

  Although Gray was aware the guy had sucked his thumb the night before. That wasn’t really a thing that straight men did, so why pretend?

  Jameson placed his hands flat on the counter and summoned that look he got sometimes, this smile that Gray now knew was totally fake. A second passed while he breathed, and Gray died a little bit inside looking at him, but then Jameson nodded, and the look faded. “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “Why?” Gray asked gently. He wanted to say a million more things, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew this conversation was a big fucking deal for Jameson, and it made him feel warm and funny that he got to be a part of it at all.

  “If I could just come out of the closet quietly, I wouldn’t care at all. But every part of my life has been in the public eye since I started West Town. I had to share everything, including the death of my parents. It was all out there, like I was just a story for people to use.”

  Gray tightened his jaw. “I always hated that celebrity shit. I remember now, when those pictures of you at the funeral were in the newspapers. It pissed me off.”

  Jameson pushed his coffee away. “I need to have something that’s mine,” he said, determination rising in his voice. “Something the rest of the world can’t take from me. If the tabloids found out I was gay, what’s to stop them from being cruel? They might even be mean enough to take down the West Town franchise—I’ve seen it happen. And they definitely wouldn’t give me the space to date and find a relationship for myself. Why would I put myself through that?”

  “I probably wouldn’t,” Gray admitted. “It sounds like hell.”

  Jameson used his toast to dab up the runny egg on his plate. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you,” he said with a soft laugh. “We did make you sign a contract, right? You can’t sell your story to a newspaper?”

  Gray frowned. It only made sense for Jameson to want reassurance, especially after sharing something so big, but still, he wished the guy didn’t have to doubt him. “I’m not a gossip,” he said, an edge of defensiveness in his voice.

  “I know,” Jameson said. “I guess I trust you for some reason.”

  Gray grunted. He suddenly felt awkward and shoved the last of his eggs in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk.

  “I take it you’re out? With the security company,1 I mean?”

  Gray nodded. “Yeah, my guy Raiden is bi, and Horatio is gay. We made our own little family, you know?”

  “But it’s your actual uncle who owns the security company, is that right?”

  Gray felt a little uncertain how he should talk about his life with Jameson, but considering how much the guy was opening up to him, it felt wrong to hold anything back. “My mom’s brother, yeah. I’m close with my mom, too, although she doesn’t live up here with us. Truth is, they both were on my case to take some of this security work. With my guys back in Albany, we kind of get ourselves into trouble sometimes.”

  “You said that the other day. Like what kind of trouble?”

  “Hopefully, nothing involving a submarine.” Jameson tilted his head to the side, then squinted at Gray. “Like my uncle says,” he tried to explain, “we kind of get a Robin Hood complex sometimes, you know what I mean?”

  “You steal from the rich?”

  Gray thought about trying to sugarcoat it, but there wasn’t really a better spin for grand theft auto anyway. “Basically, yeah. Specifically, rich people who are assholes. Like, major assholes.”

  Jameson laughed. He was surprised, Gray could tell, but not in a bad way. It was more like there was a lick of something fiery behind his eyes. He stood up, then stepped close to Gray to take his plate. The smile playing on his lips pulled some filthy fantasies from the back of Gray’s mind, and he had to spread his legs a little wider to accommodate his thickening cock.

  “Will you tell me about it sometime?” Jameson asked, taking the plates to the sink. “I imagine you’ve got some stories.”

  Gray grinned. “Depends. Can I see you in that makeup again?”

  Jameson dropped the plates into the sink. When he turned back to Gray, his eyes were dancing. “Yeah? You thought I looked nice?”

  “No. I thought you looked fucking beautiful.”

  Jameson blushed, then looked down at the ground. Gray felt flush with desire. He couldn’t believe that someone like Jameson would act shy, let alone shy for a guy like him. Gray wasn’t anything special, so why the hell did he get to see the most beautiful man in the world blushing for him?

  With a blush like that, all the worries from that morning seemed like distant whispers. Jameson needed to hear that he was beautiful, and there was no way in hell Gray was going to sit there and not say it.

  “Why do I trust you more, now that you’ve admitted you’re a thief?” Jameson asked.

  Gray laughed. “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”

  “But you’re working as a security guard now? I can see why your family would want you to do something safer.”

  “My uncle and my ma, sure. But it’s not that easy. My guys Raiden and Horatio are my family, too, and they don’t have anyone else looking after them.”

  “They’re the guys with a submarine?”

  Gray laughed. “They better not have one. But yeah, that’s them.”

  Jameson stepped forward, and Gray’s breath caught. “You’re a very good security guard,” he said. “I’m sure you can figure out how to keep yourself safe and your friends safe, too.”

  Gray grunted and tried to ignore how painfully his erection was throbbing in his jeans. Jameson made it so easy to believe he was good at his job, and Gray was desperate for that to be true. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

  Jameson stood there, and Gray felt dizzy. All of his instincts told him to wrap his arms around the guy and pull him in close. He might be torn between his friends and family, but here, inches away from Jameson, it seemed like there was only one right answer. Jameson threatened to eclipse everything else in Gray’s life, and a part of Gray wanted it to happen.

  Jameson finally stepped back. “Want to come by and watch a movie tomorrow night?” he asked, turning his eyes away, and Gray let out the breath he had been holding.

  “Sure,” Gray answered, his heart and dick throbbing. “That sounds nice.”

  Jameson bit down on his lip, then nodded. “I should prepare for my publicist. Thanks for the breakfast company, Gray.”

  “Anytime,” Gray answered. “You know where to find me.”

  Jameson

  It was about halfway through Widows that Jameson finally got the nerve to pull himself across the couch, until he and Gray were sharing a cushion. The temperature had dipped, and he was getting a nice cozy feeling from the evening.

  “Here,” Gray said, casually lifting his arm in the air. “Come closer.”

  Jameson happily obliged, curling himself up against Gray’s side. He pressed his hand against his bodyguard’s broad chest and felt the firm muscles under the soft flannel of his shirt. A rumbling noise went through Gray’s chest, sparking a thrill at the back of Jameson’s nec
k.

  He’d done everything he could to prepare himself for the evening. He’d called Dee to boost his confidence, treated himself to a cocktail after dinner to calm his nerves, and hurried around the house to shut all the curtains, just to make sure they had complete privacy. All day, Jameson wasn’t sure exactly what he would allow himself to do that evening. But he did know that he was on the edge of a cliff and ready to leap.

  And right before Gray had arrived, he had even gone one extra step, dabbing a little gloss on his lips, enough to make sure they were pink and shiny.

  But now that he was there, touching Gray, all the fear disappeared. He was compelled to stay right where he was, to keep inhaling Gray’s scent, like mint soap and wood fire. For the first time in his life, he could taste another man on the tip of his tongue, like a truth he was forced to speak, and he didn’t have to run from it.

  Gray opened his body to Jameson, and Jameson trembled with anticipation. Their legs pressed together, and his cock felt warm and fat in his jeans. He was going to give himself over to Gray, to throw it all to the fucking wind and just go for it, and nothing would stop him.

  “Wait,” Gray said, his voice raspy under his breath. He placed one hand over Jameson’s hand, both flat on his chest, then grabbed the remote to stop the movie.

  Jameson almost pulled his hand back, but the steady pressure from Gray helped keep him there. “Is something wrong?” he asked softly.

  Gray lifted Jameson’s hand. For a second, Jameson thought he was going to brush his lip across the back of his fingers, but then he paused. “You know, I’m not supposed to do this with clients.”

  Jameson sucked in a breath. This. That word held so much inside of it. “I write the paycheck,” he said softly. They’d already come so far; he couldn’t handle it if Gray pulled away now. “And I’m not going to complain.” He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, then held Gray’s eye. “It’s against my rules to do this, too.”

  “Oh fuck,” Gray groaned. He shook his head back and forth quickly, and when he finished, his eyebrows shot up with a grin.