Action

by Quinn Anderson

  Evan shrugged. “Straight guys do gay porn all the time. And how many of the women in Lesbian Orgy VII: the Reckoning do you think are actual lesbians? You’re in porn; you should know this.”

  “I guess I’m not as involved as you are. I never would have thought you were so new. You sound like you really know the industry.”

  “Yeah. Remember when you said you found my Facebook?”

  Pete nodded.

  “Well, if you were to google me now, you’d find a lot more than that. Blogs and interviews and social media accounts. You name it. I could probably write a dissertation on porn at this point.”

  The passion in Evan’s voice was mesmerizing. Just listening to him talk about it was enough to make Pete excited about his job. “If there were ever anyone who was born to be in porn, it’s you.”

  “Funny you should say that.” Evan nuzzled his cheek. “I got into porn because of my family.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m the youngest of five,” Evan said innocently. “I had to distinguish myself somehow.”

  A surprised bark of laughter burst from Pete. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

  “What was that?” Evan asked, giggling. Within seconds they were shaking together. Pete fell weakly onto Evan’s chest and ended up resting his head there. Evan breathed laughter into his hair and kissed his brow.

  When Pete could speak again, he said, “That’s one way to stand out. You went straight from school to porn?”

  “Not quite. I started out as a stripper and then graduated into porn. It was a natural progression for me.”

  Pete’s brain stopped at stripper and supplied him with a vivid image of a shirtless Evan working a pole. Gulp.

  Evan nudged him, smirking. “Still with us?”

  “Sorry, I’m back now. How’d your parents react to the news?”

  “It’s not like I told them over Thanksgiving dinner or whatever. My parents weren’t thrilled, but they knew I was going to do what I wanted.”

  “Hmm, all right, then. Next question: what’s with all the comic book stuff?” He waved at Evan’s room.

  “What, you were never into superheroes?”

  “Yeah, but mostly when I was younger.”

  “I guess I didn’t grow out of it.” He shrugged, which made Pete’s body rise and fall with the motion. “I dunno. I always liked the idea of heroes and villains. Especially ones like Catwoman who sort of walk both lines. I said I was a sucker for a good villain, but I like good guys who play bad even more.”

  “That makes sense. We play with moral boundaries every day we go to work, right?”

  “I actually don’t think we do,” Evan said. “If people wanna judge us and call us immoral for being in porn, that’s on them. We wouldn’t be able to produce it if it weren’t in demand, right? So, if people want to shame porn stars, they should really shame the people who keep us in business.”

  Pete chewed on his lip. “That’s not how it works, though. Not in reality.”

  “It should be. Then we wouldn’t have to hide behind fake names.”

  He peeked at Evan. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes and no. I kinda like the idea of having a sexy secret identity, but I wish there weren’t a need for it. I tried to stick as close to the truth as possible by using my real last name.” He kissed the top of Pete’s head. “And of course, when I realized I had feelings for you, I told you my name right away. I wanted you to know the real me.”

  Pete opened his mouth to stammer something sweet back, but then he stopped. “Wait . . . you told me your name right after we filmed the teaser. We’d met twice at that point.”

  Evan’s eyes had gotten comically wide, and for once, Pete could read him like a book. His expression said it all: he hadn’t meant to reveal that.

  “Evan are you telling me you’ve had feelings for me since—”

  “Oh wow,” Evan exclaimed, “I just realized I am starving. How about I make you that breakfast I mentioned earlier?”

  Pete gave him a sour look. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Obviously so, yes. Ready for food?”

  He sighed. If Evan didn’t want to talk about it, there was no forcing him. “There’s one last thing I’m curious about.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Most people I know are in porn as a means to an end, but the way you talk makes it sound like you’re doing it because you . . . I dunno, like it. You get what I mean?”

  “Yup,” Evan said. “And you’re right, I enjoy my work. I mean, having sex for a living is the dream for some people, right?”

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You like the industry itself. The business side of it.”

  He chuckled. “Very astute.”

  “So, you don’t have any plans to quit? Get a ‘regular’ job, or whatever it is the squares call it?”

  “I actually want to be a director someday.”

  “Like Colette?”

  “Yup, she’s my idol. The dream is to one day have my own company, just like her. The way I see it, it’s one of the most stable industries you can work in: it’s been around forever, it’s not going anywhere, and as long as there are horny people in the world, there will always be demand.”

  Pete moved his mouth into a thoughtful moue. “I have to say, I’ve never thought of it like that before.”

  “Most people don’t, even fellow sex workers like us. That’s why I’m hoping I’m gonna go far.” He nuzzled his chin. “If we keep talking about porn and horny people, I’m going to want a round two.”

  “Oh no,” Pete deadpanned. “That would be horrible.”

  Evan kissed him. “Don’t tempt me.” He stretched and threw his arms around Pete. “What are your plans for today? Maybe we can go get breakfast.”

  Pete was momentarily distracted by his biceps but managed to answer. “What’s today again?”

  “Sunday.”

  “Sunday,” Pete repeated. A second passed, and then he shot up in bed. “What time is it?”

  Evan looked over Pete’s shoulder at the nightstand. “Nine.”

  “Shit. I have to get home.” He jumped to his feet and hunted for his scattered clothes.

  Evan sat up, and the sheet they’d slept under slid down his chest to pool at his waist. Pete allowed himself a moment to salivate before hastily pulling on his clothing.

  Evan swept his dark hair out of his eyes. “Got a hot date or something?”

  “I go to church with my mom every Sunday.” Pete’s foot got caught in his jeans, and he had to pause to right it. “It starts in about an hour. No doubt, she’s already awake and wondering where I am. I didn’t tell her I was leaving last night.” He looked around for his shoes, only to remember he’d taken them off in the other room.

  The moment he opened the bedroom door, Scout and Sentry nosed their way in. Pete quickly retrieved his shoes, the tabbies’ green eyes on him the whole time. Their names were starting to make sense to him. As soon as he returned, they made a beeline for the bed and hopped up with Evan, rubbing against him.

  Evan petted them with both hands, but his eyes were on Pete. “You’re religious?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not an asshole about it, I swear.” Pete sat down on the floor to pull on his socks, grateful for a reason to not look at him as he asked, “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all. It’s more of a curiosity, for reasons I don’t think I need to explain.”

  Pete laughed, climbing to his feet. “You’d be surprised. Sex workers have a prominent place in the Bible.”

  “I actually suspected you were religious,” Evan said slowly, almost reluctantly.

  Pete looked at him. “Why’s that?”

  “Well, you more or less called porn immoral a second ago. That’s not an attitude I expected from someone who’s been doing this for a while. And you’re kinda conservative at times, like when you said you thought we were doing this backward, as if lots of people do
n’t have sex before they date these days. Plus, you said you’d never come out to your family, which makes me think you’re ashamed of what you do. Religion and shame sometimes go hand in hand, right?” He laughed, but it sounded forced.

  Pete was quiet for a long moment, absorbing what Evan had said. When he spoke, he directed his words at the floor. “This whole me-not-coming-out thing. Is that going to be a point of contention between us?”

  He saw Evan’s head jerk up out of his peripheral vision. “Huh?”

  “This is the fourth time you’ve brought it up. Seems like it really bothers you that I don’t want to tell my mom I fuck guys on camera for a living.”

  “It bothered me at first, but I’m over it now.”

  “Are you sure? Because I hate confrontation, and if you don’t tell me something’s wrong, I’m not going to wrestle it out of you. I want everything to be okay.”

  “It is okay,” Evan said, “for now. I don’t know if it will be years from now, but that’s a problem for Future Us, wouldn’t you say?”

  Pete hesitated. That was so not a resolution, but he couldn’t have this conversation with Evan right now regardless. “Okay, but promise me if you start to be not okay, you’ll tell me immediately.”

  “I promise.”

  Pete walked over and kneeled on the bed. He leaned on his hands, one on either side of Evan’s hips, which brought their faces close together. He lingered there, soaking up the simple joy of being near him. “I had such a good time last night. And this morning. I’m gonna miss you.”

  Evan kissed him. It was soft and sweet, but Pete could feel his disappointment in the shape of his mouth. “You definitely have to go?”

  Sentry rubbed against his arm as if entreating him. “Yeah, I’m sorry. My mom is probably worried. I shouldn’t have left without leaving a note or texting her or something. Besides—” he kissed him again “—with all the sinning we did, I need church now more than ever.”

  Evan snorted. “Okay. Want me to show you out?”

  “Nah, if you move that sheet, I’m not going to be able to leave.”

  “All the more reason, then.”

  Evan started to get up, but Pete pushed him back, laughing. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay.” Evan settled against the pillows. “Don’t worry about locking the door behind you. I’ll get up and do it in a minute.”

  “All right. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Pete exited the apartment and made his way to the parking lot where his car was waiting for him. The whole ride back to his house, he couldn’t stop smiling. By the time he pulled into the driveway, his cheeks hurt.

  The thought of confronting Mom, however, diminished his mirth. He didn’t have any texts or missed calls from her, but there was no way she’d missed his absence. He could only pray she hadn’t discovered his empty bed until the morning. If she’d been up all night worrying, he would never forgive himself.

  You’re an asshole, he thought as he opened the front door. If you come out of this alive, you are taking your mother to dinner. He looked around, not sure what to expect.

  To his surprise, Mom was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and a slice of burned toast. She’d pinned her hair up with pearl-studded clasps and was wearing a modest powder-blue dress. She had a magazine open in front of her, one of the cooking ones that she always swore would inspire her to become a master chef. There was nothing to suggest there was anything unusual about this Sunday.

  “Morning,” she said without looking up.

  He stared at her for a moment before parroting, “Morning.” He tossed his keys and wallet onto the counter on his way into the kitchen. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he poured himself a cup of coffee, but she didn’t look at him.

  He sat down at the table next to her. She didn’t so much as twitch. Oh God, she must be really pissed off.

  “Sorry I left without saying good-bye last night.” Better to get this over with. “You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “No need to apologize.” She finally looked up. Instead of seeming angry, she was smiling. There was a knowing sparkle in her brown eyes. “Did you get that good-night kiss after all?”

  He looked down at his feet and nodded. “How did you—”

  “A mother has her ways. Go get dressed and meet me down here. We need to leave in ten minutes. You know how Pastor Beauchamp hates it when we’re late.”

  And with that, she turned her attention back to her magazine, flipping one of its glossy pages.

  Pete scurried away. It was a miracle she’d let him off that easily, and he didn’t want to do anything to change her mind. They attended what Pete imagined was a lovely service, but in truth, he didn’t hear a word of it. He was hyperaware of his phone in the front pocket of his khakis. He desperately wanted to text Evan, but if he so much as touched his phone during church, Mom would in no way exemplify the Christian ideals of forgiveness.

  When they returned home, he raced up to his room under the pretense of changing out of his nice clothes. In truth, he planned to call Evan as soon as he’d finished.

  Just as he pulled off his shirt, his phone buzzed. He bent over and snatched it out of his front pocket while his arms were still in the shirt holes, which led to quite a bit of cumbersome flailing.

  He forced himself to finish removing his shirt before checking his notifications. Evan had texted him.

  How was your morning?

  He smiled and tapped out a reply. Great. Yours?

  Terrible. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.

  Pete’s chest filled with a warm, light feeling. It felt like a strong breeze was all it would take to lift him right off the earth. I’ve been thinking about you too. He hesitated and then wrote, I miss you.

  Evan’s reply was instantaneous. Come over?

  Pete’s heart soared only to plummet back to the ground. I can’t. I have to work later to make up for taking yesterday off.

  He waited for a reply. None came.

  A week ago, that would have freaked Pete out, but after the night they’d just spent together, he was positive Evan wasn’t upset. Maybe disappointed, but not with Pete. With their situation. The same goofy grin from earlier came back to reclaim his face. He should have gotten to know Evan sooner. He’d spent weeks fretting for no reason.

  Much as he wanted to linger on the thought of him, he had homework and studying to do before his shift. He spent the next few hours poring over his Programming Logic textbook and taking careful notes. By the time he left for work, he’d more or less forgotten his unanswered text to Evan.

  When he walked into the Globe just after two in the afternoon, he was surprised to see the shop was empty. Sunday afternoons were seldom busy, but he could generally count on a handful of people to make the hours pass. He peered out the storefront windows, checking the weather. Thick, dark clouds blotted out a sky the color of sheet metal. Sometimes rain drove people in; sometimes it convinced them to stay in their warm homes. Today, it must have been the latter.

  The shop seemed even emptier without Sana behind the counter. She’d normally give him a luminous greeting before ordering him to do something. Even that would have been welcome, because then he’d have something to do. Instead, Joshua perched in her customary place. He spotted Pete and did a horrible imitation of Sana in a high-pitched voice. “Why, hello, Pete. It’s just us today.”

  “Once more unto the breach,” Pete muttered to himself. He retrieved his apron from the back room, put it on, and busied himself washing mugs in the hopes that Joshua would take the hint and leave him alone.

  He had no such luck.

  Within seconds, something knocked his elbow. “Hey, flamer. Don’t ignore me.”

  At least he was back to his usual voice. Though Pete was going to enjoy relaying his impression to Sana later. She was going to have kittens.

  “For the last time,” Pete stated evenly, “don’t call me that
.”

  “Ooh, that was downright assertive. Where’d this sudden burst of confidence come from? Your hot boyfriend?”

  Pete started to say something acerbic but stopped short. Was Evan his boyfriend? His better judgment told him that one date and a steamy night together did not a boyfriend make. But maybe they were heading in that direction? An excited laugh bubbled up in his throat. He had to fight to keep it down.

  A second later, he realized Joshua was staring at him.

  “Um, he’s not my boyfriend,” he said in a monotone.

  “Really? Then why do you have that dopey look on your face?”

  “I do not. This is none of your business.”

  Joshua snickered. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  “That’s not how the quote goes,” he snapped, abandoning the mug he was washing.

  “Right, because you’re an expert in Charles Dickens.”

  “That was Shakespeare!”

  Joshua had just opened his mouth, ostensibly to deliver a hot retort, when the bell above the front door rang.

  Both of their heads swiveled in the direction of the sound.

  Pete gasped, heart leaping into his throat.

  Evan strolled through the door, looking like sex on legs in red jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. He’d pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, and his tattoos peeked out beneath the cuffs.

  Evan’s eyes swept over the mostly empty room before landing on Pete. He flashed his trademark impish smile. “Surprise.”

  Pete’s breathing hitched. Well, now he knew why Evan hadn’t responded to his text.

  “Hi,” he said, for lack of anything more articulate.

  “Speak of the devil.” Joshua clapped his hands together. “We were just talking about you.”

  “All terrible things, I hope,” Evan said, though his eyes never left Pete’s face. “Happy to see me?”

  Pete stared back wordlessly. He didn’t have the necessary vocabulary to describe how happy he was. God, just being near him again was enough to excite him. He cleared his throat and willed himself to keep it together. “Of course.”

  Joshua looked between them, falling curiously silent. Pete finally tore his gaze away from Evan long enough to quirk a brow at him. If Joshua missed an opportunity to make a snide remark, it was cause for alarm.