Acting Out

by Tibby Armstrong

  “No offense, Kit, but I’d like you better if your star persona wandered into a desert and died. Preferably pecked to death by vultures.”

  Kit braced an arm against the shower wall and chuckled. The deep sound resonated in the enclosed space and vibrated along Jeremy’s skin.

  “You would.” He straightened and made a twirling motion with his finger. “Your turn.”

  They switched places, and Jeremy smiled, letting water run into his mouth as he tilted his head back and basked under the massaging stream. He swallowed and opened his eyes to find Kit staring at him.

  “I don’t know why you think I’m so good-looking.” Jeremy frowned, and Kit continued. “You’re extraordinary.”

  Embarrassed, Jeremy looked down at his feet. Spying his too-long toenails, he decided to make a joke. “Except my feet.”

  Kit looked down, and Jeremy wiggled his toes, splashing them in the water.

  “Yeah. Well.” Palming the soap, Kit tugged Jeremy forward and suckled at his lips. “We’ll fix that tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Stay the night?” Kit massaged him roughly with the soap and palmed his ass with his other hand.

  Jeremy hissed in pleasure at the forceful sensation of clutching fingers and jagged cleansing.

  “Fuck me again?” he asked, though his ass stung as soap ran down his crack.

  “Why do you like the pain?” Kit asked.

  Jeremy stumbled back and caught himself with his hand on the shelf carved into the shower wall. “What?”

  “Why do you like the pain?”

  “Why do you like it when I control you?” Jeremy shot back.

  Kit looked away and put the soap in its cubby before lowering himself to the teak bench. “Huh,” he said, thoughtful. “I didn’t realize I did.”

  Rinsing off in silence, Jeremy rolled Kit’s admission around in his brain. How could he not realize what turned him on? He shut off the water and grabbed a towel. Plush cotton trailed from his fingertips as he handed the bath sheet to Kit.

  Kit looked up and Jeremy blurted, “I don’t experience it as pain.”

  Water dripped from the showerheads and gurgled down the drain as they stared at one another, unmoving. Later, Jeremy couldn’t say if he’d imagined the connection, but it seemed he and Kit crossed a threshold. Stepped over a magical line that made an alchemy of the words fuck buddy and friend, transforming them into lovers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kit blinked rapidly and looked away, breaking the eye contact with Jeremy. He dried off in silence and padded to the bedroom. Jeremy followed. Naked, they climbed into bed and lay face-to-face. Knees curled, heads pillowed on biceps, they stared at one another in silent comfort. Dark lashes drifting shut, Jeremy began to fall asleep.

  Not wanting to lose the company, Kit asked, “How come it feels good?”

  A soft smile curled his lips, and Jeremy opened heavy lids. “Was wondering when you were going to ask. It makes me high.”

  “High?”

  “Endorphins, I guess.” Shifting, Jeremy ran a palm over his face and shook his head as if banishing cobwebs.

  Kit moved too, pushing himself up to rest against the headboard. Staring down at their feet tenting the blankets, he had a sense of warm connectedness and peace. Nothing in his life ever felt so right. Or so new and strange.

  Kit rolled his head to the side along the headboard. “Did it hurt?”

  Fingers of pink crept up Jeremy’s pale skin to mottle his cheeks. “A little.”

  Sinking into Jeremy—fucking him—had been a revelation of carnal delight. Every thrust—each push and withdrawal—teased and squeezed his most sensitive places until he didn’t know how he’d lived without this. He’d never be able to look at his kitchen counter without thinking of fucking Jeremy Ash again.

  “You were fucking amazing.” Kit felt his eyes snap with energy as he remembered that first heated push.

  A slow grin spread across Jeremy’s face. “Yeah?”

  Kit nodded. “Yeah.”

  “It felt so…” Gaze taking on a far-away aspect, Jeremy struggled for words. “I don’t know. I mean I never knew the nerves there had such…” He chuckled and met Kit’s eyes. “Potential.”

  “You want to do me?”

  Surprise shot Jeremy’s brow upward, and Kit bit the inside of his cheek. Laughter born of nerves tickled in his belly and rolled to his throat until he gave a sharp snort.

  “What’s so funny?” Jeremy asked.

  “You.”

  “Me?” Jeremy pushed up with his hands, and the sheet slid from his chest to pool at his waist. “Why am I funny?”

  “You’re just so…predictable,” Kit answered.

  That elicited a frown. “Predictable how?”

  Kit shrugged. “I knew you were going to be shocked at the idea I’d let you fuck me.”

  And why shouldn’t it surprise him? Since when had he given Jeremy any indication that he could be something besides a self-centered prick? Spending the last few days virtually alone—not speaking to anyone except to film his scenes, coming home to his empty place, and rattling around in it as Jeremy’s words echoed in his head—had offered him a time of disquieting but necessary soul-searching. When he’d dug deep, he didn’t like what he saw. He wanted to change.

  “That’s because you just behaved unpredictably,” Jeremy observed. “Of course, I’d be surprised… I mean, it’s about as gay as you can get. And you’re not gay. Remember?”

  Anyone could justify fucking some guy’s ass. As long as you didn’t bottom, you might get away with saying you were just horny and needed a convenient hole. Hell, guys in prison did it all the time. Offer up your ass for someone else, however? You colored yourself as many shades of queer as two guys strolling the Folsom Street Fair holding hands. He knew what it meant. Damned if he’d admit it, though.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Kit scowled across the room at his photo of a Japanese cherry tree in full blossom. Ice encased each flower in a crystalline prison. “Do we need to label this?”

  “No,” Jeremy answered quietly. “Not if you don’t want to.”

  Kit clenched his teeth, both wanting to ask and dreading the implications of saying, “So you’re okay with being…?”

  “Closeted?” Jeremy offered.

  The word slapped at Kit with a sickening plop. That term sounded cowardly. Like…hiding. Yet if he didn’t hide, he’d ruin any chance he had of reviving his career. Besides, he wasn’t really sure about…anything.

  “Look. This is Hollywood.” Kit tried to explain, but the words sounded cheap. “I don’t know what I am. I just…need some time.”

  “I get it.”

  “You do?” Hope ballooned in Kit’s chest, and he chanced a look at Jeremy.

  Mouth twisted to one side, Jeremy examined a hangnail. “Yeah. I can do it for a while. Just…not forever.”

  Not forever.

  Which meant someday he’d have to say the words he knew Jeremy wanted to hear. He didn’t know what to say now, so he remained silent.

  “Do you want to go to sleep?” Jeremy asked.

  Feeling like the serpent in the garden, or an addict in a crack house, Kit used his body to change the subject. He slid over smooth skin and muscled torso to cover Jeremy’s mouth with his own. Took ownership of the kiss with deep, tonsil-scraping thrusts of his tongue.

  Many minutes later, Kit released Jeremy’s lips to growl an answer. “No, I want you to fuck me.”

  Eyes dancing with sexual energy, Jeremy grinned. “It’s no fun if you want it. You know that.”

  Kit slackened his fingers. “Is that why you threatened to fuck me in your trailer?”

  “No.” Jeremy shook his head, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I wanted to shock you into wondering if I’d do it if you came back.”

  Kit snorted. “It worked.”

  “I’m going to fuck you, Kit.” Trailing his knuckles over Kit’s cheekbone, Jeremy let his voice go low. �
�But when you least expect it.”

  A thrill of pleasure ran down Kit’s spine. “God, how do you know what I want?”

  “Same way you know I like it rough.” Lifting his head, Jeremy nipped at Kit’s earlobe. “I pay attention.”

  “We’re totally fucked-up.” Kit rolled to his back with a self-deprecating laugh and threw an arm over his eyes. “I was never like this with girls.”

  Jeremy tossed a heavy thigh over Kit’s legs. The length of his half-hard cock rested at Kit’s hip. “It’s because you weren’t yourself. You were Kit I-don’t-have-to-try-because-you’re-lucky-I’m-letting-you-breathe-my-air Harris.”

  Kit peeked at Jeremy with one eye. The way the guy saw this stuff freaked him out on one hand and intrigued him on the other. “You’re creepy.”

  “And you’re easy to read.”

  “I hope not.” Kit grinned. “I have a carefully crafted reputation as a badass to uphold.”

  Jeremy poked him playfully. “You have a stylist specializing in that look?”

  Kit shoulder-punched Jeremy and sat up. “We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

  “Wow. You really are gay,” Jeremy teased, eyes glowing with humor. “Possibly gayer than me. I hate shopping.”

  “It shows.” Rolling, Kit grabbed an issue of GQ from under his nightstand and flipped to the fall-fashion pages. He’d found a pair of jeans in there he wanted to see suctioned to Jeremy’s ass. “We need to get you some clothes before you go to all these press events.”

  “What? You don’t like the starving-artist look?” Jeremy sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “Speaking of starving, mind if I get some of those cinnamon things you were making? I’d like to taste the icing when it doesn’t have your pubic hair stuck to it.”

  Eyeing him over the magazine, Kit made a sour face. “You’ve been wearing the same jeans every day since I’ve known you. You have money. Let’s get you some clothes.”

  “Food first?” Jeremy asked, rolling his eyes. “Then torture?”

  Kit waved his hand toward the door. “Go. Stuff your face. Just don’t bring them in here. I hate crumbs in my bed.”

  Naturally, Jeremy returned ten minutes later with a tray laden with Saki glasses, a bottle of plum wine, and four of the rolls. Kit sat up and flipped back the covers.

  “You’re doing the laundry,” he said, then blushed when the intimacy of the statement struck him.

  Jeremy’s square fingers pulled off a chunk of roll dripping with icing and smooshed it against Kit’s mouth. He opened and nipped at the doughy sweetness. The confection melted against his tongue, and he licked the icing from his lips. Bite by bite, Jeremy fed him, sometimes dangling the treat for him to snap at and other times letting icing drip as he trailed it against the line of flesh from his pubic bone to his chin.

  “Last bite.” Jeremy’s voice, throaty with need, vibrated against Kit’s lips as he spoke around a morsel held in his teeth.

  Straining upward, Kit opened his mouth wide to receive the tidbit along with Jeremy’s kiss. Soft tongue and sugary roll plunged into his mouth in a suckling sweep.

  “I’m a mess,” Kit murmured as he lay back and the ridges of his abs pulled at the frosting between them.

  “You’re about to get messier.” Unscrewing the top of the plum wine, Jeremy tilted the bottle above Kit’s navel, met his eyes, and raised his brows.

  Feeling his own gaze darkening, Kit remained motionless as Jeremy filled the small dish of flesh with wine. Cold and wet, the alcohol made his skin twitch and his stiff cock jerk with pleasure. With the point of his tongue leading the way, Jeremy bent to lick and suck the wine from Kit’s bellybutton.

  “You’ll never get a buzz on drinking it that way.” The edge of Kit’s voice caught in his throat, and words meant to sound sarcastic came out with a note of desperation. He wanted Jeremy’s mouth on him. He wanted to feel this dark Adonis in his palm as he stroked him hard and watched his face take on the stark mask of pleasure.

  Lifting the bottle above his own lips, Jeremy tilted back his head. The liquid streamed in a burgundy arc, but he didn’t swallow. Mouth full, he bent over Kit. Opening, Kit accepted the intimately heated alcohol and gulped it down. He’d never felt so decadent or so dominated in his life…by food and drink.

  “You missed some,” Jeremy whispered, heated tongue flicking out to lick a droplet from the corner of Kit’s mouth as he blindly reached out to put the bottle of wine on the nightstand.

  Not stopping to claim a kiss, Jeremy trailed lower, catching crumbs and pausing to lave at the bits of sticky frosting clinging to Kit’s flesh. Farther down, he cradled Kit’s balls in his palm, suckled the head of his cock, and ran his thumb up the shaft, encouraging precum to the surface with a measured sweep. A glistening drop of fluid popped from the head and drizzled down his cock. Kit shuddered.

  Jeremy moved up and took advantage of the lubricant. With his thumb, he slicked the more sensitive spots under the crest and applied pressure to the button of flesh just below the crown.

  Kit grasped the side of Jeremy’s head and thrust upward. “Please…”

  Pools of brown-black stared up at him from under lowered brows. “Please what?”

  Jeremy slid his tongue along the slit, catching another drop. Lifting, he let the precum stream from his tongue in a long rope until it snapped away, and he grinned. Wicked.

  Kit pushed down on the top of his head.

  Jeremy resisted. “Please what?”

  “Suck it!”

  Bending, Jeremy swallowed Kit down the back of his throat. Kit saw lights and heard thunder as his world crashed down around his ears. One jerk. Two. Three. He shouldn’t have come so fast given his recent activity, but he felt utter contentment as Jeremy licked the last drops of his come from his still-twitching cock.

  Later, sticky with frosting and languid with sated lust, Kit lay on his back and stared at the wavy patterns of light on the ceiling. “You’re different when we’re alone.”

  “So are you.” Trailing his fingertips along Kit’s arm, Jeremy voiced his observation with soft contentment. “Different, I mean.”

  “You’re more confident,” Kit asserted. “You should be that way around other people too.”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t have the script for my star persona down yet.”

  “Maybe if you dressed the part, it would help.” Kit tugged his own pillow out from under his head and fluffed it violently. “Clothes are nothing more than a costume, and a costume always turns a dress rehearsal into a performance.”

  Flicking his attention to the magazine splayed on the floor, Jeremy slid his torso over Kit’s abdomen. He scooched the glossy pages into his hand with his fingertips and opened the magazine without moving off Kit. Kit reached out exploratory fingers to play with a tuft of dark hair curling at the nape of Jeremy’s neck.

  Jeremy’s head dipped. “Feels nice.”

  “We don’t have to go shopping tomorrow.” Massaging his fingers into Jeremy’s scalp, Kit spoke softly. “But I want to see that ass of yours in something besides military wool or faded denim.”

  Jeremy collapsed completely as Kit began to massage his shoulder muscles. “I’ll think about it.”

  Kit trailed his fingers over puckered scars. Trying to see past the damage to the gorgeous form beneath. He stilled. And understood. Jeremy didn’t want to undress in front of strangers.

  To be certain, Kit asked, “Do you ever go swimming?”

  No answer. Lengthened breaths and an increased weight told him Jeremy had fallen asleep. On top of him. The heavy bastard would keep him awake all night pinned in this position. Lifting his palms to shove him off, Kit paused. What would it hurt to let him stay? He could sleep some other time. Right now he just wanted…to be with someone.

  “Wake up.”

  The sound of a whirring motor and sliding material as drapes opened. Jeremy rolled to his side and tugged a pillow over his face to shut out the knife’s edge of sunlight. He felt comfort
able. Safe. And smelled hot coffee…

  He slid the pillow off and opened one eye to see Kit, in plum-colored boxers, sipping a cup of joe and holding out another. Jeremy pushed to a sitting position, rubbed a hand down his stubble, and reached for the coffee. Wordlessly, Kit handed the mug to him and settled on the edge of the bed. Taking a sip, Jeremy eyed him over a rim of white porcelain. Pinkened cheeks and still-damp hair said Kit had already shaved and showered.

  “Not a morning person?”

  “How long you been up?” Jeremy asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

  Mid slurp, Kit swallowed before answering. “Since seven.”

  Jeremy glanced at the clock. Quarter past nine. He placed his mug on the nightstand, then swung his legs off the bed. “Sorry. You probably have stuff to do.”

  In the glaring sunlight, last night seemed so far away. Cushioned in darkness, he could pretend their love play meant as much to Kit as it had to him. He strode to the bathroom to turn on the shower before he did something stupid like asking if Kit wanted to hang out today. He felt himself, for perhaps the first time in his adult life, growing dependent on someone else for his happiness, and that thought terrified him. As he stepped under the water, he set the showerhead on something pounding. Brutal. The abrading pulse began to separate him from his emotions, and the sense of otherworldly panic melted a fraction. Unable to stand, he expelled a breath and sat on the bench.

  The shower door opened, and Kit stepped inside. “Want me to get your back?”

  “Fuck me, Kit,” he found himself saying. “Just fuck me. Hard.”

  A blue gaze pierced him. Ran down his length, resting at his cock and continued its sweep to his toes and back.

  “Tell me why.”

  The demand took Jeremy aback until he remembered Kit asking him last night why he enjoyed pain. Biting his lip, he watched water drops bounce at his feet.

  “Because I…” He shook his head. He had no idea beyond the endorphins. Not really.

  Long fingers twined in his hair and tugged his head back. Kit stared down at him with gentle menace, latent power in the curl of his palm. Breath quickening, Jeremy swallowed, and his cock hardened with each pulse of his blood through his veins.