His erection was trapped between his stomach and the mattress. The urge to thrust against the sheets for some kind of relief was overwhelming. As if sensing his frustration, Evan shifted the finger inside of him, and pleasure bloomed in Pete’s core. He swore under his breath, which unfortunately prompted Evan to stop his slow slide into him. “All right?”
“Yeah, sorry,” he said automatically.
Evan laughed. “Don’t be. I’m just making sure I’m not hurting you.”
Something about his tone struck Pete as odd. “Is something wrong?” He twisted around again to look at him and was surprised to find Evan smiling from ear to ear.
“Not at all.”
Pete gave him a look.
“It’s nothing, I swear. I’m just . . . really happy. Like, sunshine-and-rainbows happy. I love everything about this.”
“I’m glad you’re happy, but I promise I’ve put on much better shows than this.”
“No, that’s exactly why this is perfect. It’s real, not the fake rock star sex that takes six hours and a team of editors to make.” He kissed the nape of Pete’s neck. “This is exactly how I wanted this. How I wanted you.”
Pete smiled. “Then I suggest you get on with it.” He pushed back against Evan’s fingers. “I’m not delicate. If you don’t hurry up, we’ll never get there.”
Evan doubled his pace, stretching him carefully. “How does that feel?”
Pete squirmed. It burned a little, but it was such a relief to have Evan in him, any part of him, he didn’t care. “Good. Keep going.”
Evan added a second finger, and Pete swore again. Between coming earlier and Evan’s slow pace, he hadn’t expected this to do that much for him, but it was. His erection hadn’t flagged at all, even without direct stimulation.
“Still good?”
“Yeah. Maybe move a little to the— Oh.” Evan brushed his prostate, and Pete felt it thrum throughout his whole body. “Oh. Fuck. Do that again.”
Lips kissed the center of his back, right between his shoulder blades. “Tell me what to do. Anything you want.”
“More. Just give me more.”
Evan obeyed, working him open with increasing fervor. Pete tried not to be too demanding, but by the time Evan added a third finger, he was a panting mess. He wasn’t even certain he was forming real words, outside of yes and now and Evan.
He must’ve communicated his desire well enough, because after a particularly guttural version of Evan’s name, Evan murmured, “Damn,” and removed his fingers.
Pete heard the distinct sound of a condom wrapper, but he didn’t look over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and let the mystery of what Evan was doing send tingles up his spine. There was some rummaging and a squelching sound—lube? Lube. Pete could hear Evan slicking himself up, and boy, did that ever make his skin prickle.
Evan smoothed a hand down his back, wordlessly telling him what he was about to do. Even with the notice, he jumped when the head of Evan’s cock nestled against his hole.
Evan paused. “Okay?”
“More than okay.” Pete pressed back, and Evan’s cock breached him just barely. Not enough. Not even close to enough.
“Oh fuck,” Evan mumbled. He thrust forward, seemingly instinctively, and sunk in about an inch. “Fuck, Pete, stop wriggling.”
“I can’t.” Pete pushed back again, and Evan had to grab his hips to stop him. “More, Evan. You won’t break me, I swear.”
He felt the tremor that worked its way through Evan. “Just hold on a little longer.”
Pete made a frustrated noise that must have gotten through to Evan, because he thrust in again, deeper this time.
Pete couldn’t have stopped the luxurious moan that poured from him if he’d tried. “Yes, fuck, just like that. More.”
“You’re insatiable.” Evan pressed a kiss behind Pete’s ear and whispered, “I love it.”
Evan fucked into him in what seemed like the smallest of increments, but eventually a deep thrust brought Evan’s hip bones into contact with his ass. Evan panted against his skin in hot, damp bursts, Evan’s forehead resting on Pete’s shoulder. Evan’s hips twitched, and Pete felt the movement so deeply inside of him, he couldn’t separate it from himself.
“Feel good?” Evan asked breathlessly.
“So good.” Pete turned his head to try to kiss him, but the angle was all wrong. He settled for rocking his hips back, dragging another beautiful moan from Evan. As if by instinct, they started moving together. Pete rocking back, Evan thrusting into him, coming together in a way that made Pete’s world tilt on its axis. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this connected to a sexual partner. And he didn’t think he’d ever felt such intense reactions, such greedy need even now that he finally had Evan where he wanted him.
Just as he grew restless for more, Evan sped up the pace, thrusting deeply into him. Pete’s cries drowned out even the creaking of the mattress. The angle wasn’t quite right to stimulate his prostate every time, but it happened enough, and there was something so satisfying about being skin to skin with Evan. He could almost come from that alone. And it helped that his cock rubbed between his stomach and the soft sheets with every thrust.
“Fuck, Pete, you feel so good,” Evan groaned from somewhere above him.
Evan rolled into him and then ground his hips, and Pete moaned wordlessly. Now that hit his prostate. Fuck. So many sensations at once, he couldn’t see straight.
Evan grabbed his waist and flexed his fingers. “Can you come like this?”
Pete had never come untouched in his life, but if anyone could manage it, he’d put money on Evan. “Maybe.”
Evan pulled out of him, and Pete almost sobbed at the loss. But then hands were on him, turning him onto his back. Too fucked out to care, Pete allowed Evan to arrange him how he wanted: shoulders on the bed, legs spread wide, right knee pressed to his chest.
Evan spent a moment just looking at him, eyes sweeping across his face, down his torso, and settling between his legs. Pete knew how he must look: open and pliant and vulnerable. But instead of feeling insecure, he just felt good.
Evan held the base of his cock and guided himself back into Pete. Pete’s whine of need tapered off when Evan sunk home and then pressed closer, making Pete’s toes curl.
Pete’s head lolled to the side, but he kept his eyes cracked open just enough to see Evan’s exquisite expressions. Evan clenched his eyes shut tight when he thrust in, like he had to brace himself against the intensity of it. It was mesmerizing and beautiful and achingly hot.
Taking a shaky breath, Evan seemed to gather himself. He wrapped a hand around Pete’s cock and gave him a stroke that made him jolt.
“Oh God,” Pete moaned. “More, just like—” Evan stroked him again just as he switched angles, and this time when he bottomed out, Pete’s nerve endings lit up.
“Evan, oh fuck!” He grabbed Evan’s shoulders and writhed beneath him, trying to chase the feeling. The dual sensations were stimulating him just right. It was almost too much. He was going to fly apart into a thousand pieces any second now.
Evan gripped his hip, holding him steady, and repeated the motion.
Pete whimpered. “Fuck, that’s it. Just like that.”
The last of Evan’s reservation crumbled away. He fucked Pete brutally, his hand moving fluidly over Pete’s cock.
Pete howled beneath him, seconds away from unraveling. “Evan— I’m so— I want— I’m—”
“—close,” Evan finished. “Me too. Come, Pete. I want you to come all over my hand and your stomach. I’m right there with you.”
“Yes,” Pete said blearily, not even sure what was coming out of his mouth. “Can you . . . I need . . . closer.”
Miraculously, Evan understood. He settled on top of Pete—chest to chest, skin to skin, as close as they could get—and pounded into him. Pete wrapped his arms around him and held on for dear life. Evan’s thrusts were quick and deep, barely pulling out before pushing b
ack in, and it was perfect. Pete almost couldn’t breathe. Out of all the sex he’d had, all the elegant, award-worthy orgasms he’d put on for all and sundry, he’d never felt anything like this before.
It was cliché, but Pete swore his orgasm swept through him like a tidal wave. It seeped into every part of him, white-hot and shocking in its intensity. Evan whimpered blissfully as Pete came all over his hand, as if Pete’s pleasure were somehow wired to his own. A moment later, he cried out, thrust hard into Pete, and froze, muscles locked in ecstasy.
A minute passed where neither of them moved. They just breathed together, loud and ragged, in a tangle of limbs. When his pulse stabilized, Pete forced his eyes open.
His sweat was already cooling on his chest, among other fluids. He tried to shift, but with Evan on top of him, he could barely move. He quickly abandoned the idea of going anywhere and smoothed a hand down Evan’s back instead. Contentment soaked into him everywhere their skin touched.
It was only after a long, quiet moment that Evan stirred. He made a soft sound and lifted his head, bringing their lips together. It was more of a smear than a proper kiss, exhausted as they both were, but the sweetness of it left Pete weak.
A beat later, Evan pushed himself up into a kneeling position and pulled gently out of him. He removed the condom and, with astonishing accuracy, tossed it into a trash can next to the nightstand. Then he flopped down beside Pete and held out his arms.
Pete stared blankly at him.
“What, you’ve never cuddled before?” Evan slurred, eyes half-closed.
“Sorry,” Pete mumbled. He tucked himself into Evan’s embrace. “It’s just, the last time I had sex without a room full of people was months ago. Cuddling isn’t part of the after-filming procedure.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you did great,” Evan said, skimming his lips along Pete’s nape.
Pete couldn’t stop the pleased smile that spread across his face. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Even without a director?”
Evan laughed. “It’s funny. ‘Regular’ people want to be porn stars in bed, but porn stars just want to be people.” He kissed his temple. “You were even better than I imagined, and I have imagined sex with you a lot.”
Pete snuggled closer. The steady, soothing rise and fall of Evan’s breathing threatened to lull him to sleep, but he managed to keep his eyes open.
Evan planted a kiss on his temple. “You tired?”
Pete stifled a yawn. “A bit.”
“Feel free to pass out.”
“Ah.” He drummed his fingers lightly against one of Evan’s forearms. “I can stay the night, then?”
Evan gave him a squeeze. “Like I would let you go anywhere right now.”
“If you want to stay up and talk for a while, I can do that.”
“Nah, I know you’re exhausted. But thanks for the effort.”
Evan got out of bed long enough to flip off the light switch—affording Pete a phenomenal view of his bare ass as he walked away—and then turned down the sheets. Pete navigated under them, but instead of returning to Evan’s embrace, he sidled up to his back and threw an arm over his waist.
Evan snorted. “You want to be the cuddler, instead of the cuddlee?”
“I’m taller,” Pete murmured. “It’s my birthright.”
“Whatever. Night, Pete Griflow.”
Pete’s cheeks reddened for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. “Good night, Evan Darko.”
That night, Pete slept the perfect, deep sleep of the truly satiated. When he woke up, there was no moment of disorientation. He blinked against the sunlight pouring through the window and knew exactly where he was: he was with Evan. Even if he hadn’t known that, the limbs sandwiched between his and the smell of sweat and soap would have been enough to remind him.
Pete stretched, careful not to move too much. His joints popped, and his muscles burned. He felt pleasantly sore and utterly refreshed.
Evan stirred next to him, roused by Pete’s movements, or as if he’d somehow heard his thoughts. One of his eyes cracked open. Pete had seen Evan during the day plenty of times, but never this close and in such ideal light. The morning sunlight hit his face at just the right slant, confirming something Pete had long suspected. His eyes were such a deep brown they were just a few shades lighter than his pupil. They were beautiful.
Evan’s mouth twitched up. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“Sorry.” A few weeks ago, Pete probably would have been embarrassed, but now, all he could do was smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Evan kissed his forehead. “How’d you sleep?”
Pete stretched again, toes spilling over the end of the mattress. “You have to ask? I don’t think I moved all night.”
“Good point. If you had, I would have felt it.” Evan snuggled up to his chest and breathed deeply.
Pete squirmed. “That tickles.”
“Good.”
They lay there for a moment in sleepy, sunny serenity before Evan shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. “Want some breakfast?”
“Not just yet. I want to stay in bed.”
Evan grinned. “Well, if that’s what’s on your mind—”
Pete pushed him away, laughing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“All right.” Evan settled back down. “Talk to me.”
“Um . . . how ’bout that local sports team?”
“I hear they won the World Bowl Cup,” Evan teased.
“All right, fine. What do you want to talk about?”
“You. Tell me about yourself.”
Pete considered him. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. How’d you get into porn? Where’d you grow up? What’s your family like?”
“Easy enough. I was born and raised in the city. Never lived anywhere else. My parents are divorced, so it’s just my mom and me. Feel free to make the obvious ‘daddy issues’ jokes.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s not your fault he skipped out.”
“As for porn, it just sort of happened to me.” He shrugged. “I wanted to help my mom with bills, you know? Pay my own way.”
Evan gave him a squeeze. “Very responsible.”
“I started out modeling—all wholesome, catalog stuff—but then someone told me how much money I could make doing nude work. I resisted, at first, but models are a dime a dozen in LA, and eventually the job well dried up. One day, someone handed me Colette’s business card, and the rest is history.”
“She recruited you into porn?
“No, actually. She started me off in phone sex. But I wasn’t any good at it, and I wasn’t making any money. Eventually, I decided to try out other avenues.”
“Why’d you pick porn? You could have done cam work or nude modeling, like you said.”
“I dunno, I guess I liked the idea of porn. You know, getting paid to have amazing, impossible sex. Getting to hang out on set with beautiful people. Having hundreds of fans who adore you and want you. It’s . . . beguiling.”
“I bet you have a lot of fans.”
“Uh, no.” Pete laughed. “I had a bit of a following when I first started, but it fizzled out. I didn’t put much effort into it.”
“Well, rest assured, you have a big fan right here.”
Pete slid his fingers into Evan’s messy hair, playing with it. “What about you? How’d you break into the biz? Colette gave me the impression you’re kind of a big deal.”
“Not yet, but I could be, given enough time.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
He grinned. “Two months.”
Pete blinked incredulously. “But that would mean . . .”
“I was still pretty green when I signed up for Heat Wave, yeah. I only had a dozen or so gigs under my belt.”
Holy shit. He’d known Evan was new—Colette had called him a “rising star” after all—but he hadn’t thought he
was that new. Evan was a natural. He’d walked onto set like he was meant to be there, whereas Pete still stumbled half the time.
Pete worried his bottom lip. “There’s something I want to ask, but I don’t want to be invasive.”
“Pete, we just had sex. It doesn’t get more invasive than that.”
“True. Is porn your only job? I haven’t heard you mention another one or school or anything.
“It is, but I spend most of my time building my brand. Marketing. Networking. Interacting with fans on social media.”
“That makes sense. Your Facebook was inundated with posts. Are you working on any other projects besides Heat Wave? You must be, since we only film once a week.”
Evan looked at him askance. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”
Pete nodded. “I’m not the jealous type, despite my many anxieties. Porn is a job. You have to work, same as me.”
“So, just to clarify, now that we’ve slept together, you’re not gonna ask me to quit?”
Pete glared at him. “That would be really hypocritical of me, wouldn’t you say? I certainly don’t intend to quit.”
Evan held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just making sure. I’ve heard horror stories from people who said their significant others expected them to quit once things got serious, as if you’d do that with any other job. But just so you know, I haven’t taken on any new gigs since Heat Wave. My decision to cross over to gay porn left me in sort of a weird standing in the community. I need to build my reputation back up, and I think Colette’s film is going to be a big help.”
“Why did you cross over, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Because I’m gay,” Evan said matter-of-factly. “I only did straight porn because I thought it would be the best way to get my name out there, but the money in gay porn is so much better, and it’s more of a niche market. I decided to focus on cultivating a smaller but more dedicated fan base.”
Pete regarded him, impressed. “I gotta admit, when I heard you were a crossover, I assumed you were at least bi. Was it hard having sex with women?”
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