Action

by Quinn Anderson

  All semblance of coherent thought in Pete’s brain went flying out of his ears. He angled his neck until he could see Evan in his periphery. “You wanted to bottom?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  At Pete’s flabbergasted expression, he added, “I can’t expect to top for the rest of our lives, can I? Of course we’ll switch things up.”

  “For the rest of our lives.” Pete’s entire system crashed. No signal. Motherboard fried. Please insert recovery disk.

  “Everyone ready?” Colette announced.

  “Ready,” Evan said.

  Yolanda gave a thumbs-up from her spot behind her camera.

  Pete muttered something vaguely akin to, “Yarth.”

  That was apparently all Colette needed because she crouched down next to a mic stand, laptop balanced on her knees, and called, “Action!”

  Pete settled in Evan’s arms, head resting on his chest. He looked up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees and said exactly what he was thinking. “This is nice.”

  “Yeah,” Evan said. Pete couldn’t see him clearly, but he felt the contented sigh he let out against his neck. “I love lazy days like this, especially if I get to spend them with you.”

  Pete tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Me too.”

  “It’s so quiet out here. It’s hard to believe we’re still in the city.”

  “Yeah,” Pete agreed, relaxing again. “We haven’t seen another person in hours. It’s like we’re in our own little world.” He threaded his fingers with Evan’s.

  “That’s good,” Colette called to them. “You two seem very cozy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a real couple.”

  Gulp. Pete tensed up, but Evan ran a soothing hand down his arm. “It is pretty private out here. You know what that means?”

  Pete raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “No one can hear you scream.” Suddenly, Evan started tickling him.

  Pete screeched and scrambled away, but Evan’s strong arms wrapped around him, hauling him back. His fingers wormed their way into his shirt. Pete thrashed in his grip, but Evan’s hold was impossible to break. Somehow, he ended up on his back with Evan holding him down, yelling, “Say uncle! Say uncle!”

  “What are you, my older brother?” Pete groused, pushing at Evan’s chest. It was useless. The man was carved from marble.

  Evan grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the blanket. “I hope not, or else this would be really awkward.”

  Pete panted for breath, grateful to be trapped if it meant he wasn’t being tickled any longer. Evan was breathing hard too, gazing down at him. It occurred to Pete that they were in a very compromising position: Evan on top of him, straddling his hips, their faces close, and their breath hot between them.

  The mood shifted from playful to suggestive in a flash. There was an electric moment where neither of them said anything. Then Evan shifted on top of him.

  “Jaden,” Evan said, “I want to kiss you.”

  “Please do,” Pete panted.

  The kiss started gentle—just a warm brush of lips that banished the morning chill—but it quickly became downright filthy: tongues and teeth clashing, and little noises escaping from Pete whenever their mouths parted.

  Evan released his wrist and trailed a hand down his stomach, heading slowly toward Pete’s swelling cock.

  Pete broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”

  “I would think that was obvious.”

  “We can’t,” Pete gasped. “Anyone could walk by. We could get caught.”

  Evan nibbled on his neck. “I know. That’s what makes it so hot.” His hand slid between Pete’s legs and cupped him.

  Pete arched into the touch. “That feels good.”

  Evan laughed breathily. “I thought you wanted me to stop”

  Pete tried to think past the flood of arousal infusing his whole body. “Kyle, I . . . I want . . .”

  “You’re already hard.” Evan’s fingers working him through his jeans. “But say the word, and I’ll stop. Is that what you want?”

  Pete huffed. “No. But we have to be quick, okay?”

  “I make no promises.”

  They fumbled with each other’s clothing, going for speed instead of grace. Pete pushed his jeans and underwear down to his thighs but otherwise left them on. The cold bit into his skin. Thankfully, Colette didn’t direct him to disrobe completely.

  “Do you have a . . .” Pete trailed off. He feigned running an agitated hand through his hair.

  Evan picked up on his bait. “A condom?”

  “Yeah.” He bit his lip, playing shy for the camera.

  Evan dug one out of his back pocket and held it up off-center. It looked weird from where Pete was, but the camera angle would make it look like he was showing Pete while simultaneously giving the audience a good look.

  “On your knees,” Evan ordered, pupils wide.

  Pete wordlessly obeyed. Evan made a show of sliding lubed fingers into him and remarking about how tight he was.

  It would have been business as usual, except for the fact that Evan knew exactly how Pete liked to be touched. He sunk two fingers into him with just the right amount of force, working him open, and when he curled them unerringly toward his prostate, Pete couldn’t stop the broken moan that burst from his lips.

  “Fuck, Kyle,” he gasped, gripping the blanket under them in both fists, “do that again.”

  Evan smoothed a hand down his clothed back and seemed about to do just that when Colette signaled to them.

  They held their positions. She approached.

  “Nice work,” she said, walking around them and studying their angles, “but I want you to ramp up the tension. Right now this feels . . . comfortable. Like it isn’t the first time you’ve had sex.”

  Evan made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. Pete glanced at Colette, praying she hadn’t noticed.

  If she had, she ignored it. She walked back over to Yolanda. “Try it again. This time, let’s see some first-fuck jitters.”

  Finally, something Pete excelled at.

  “Action!”

  Pete made a small keening noise and pressed back against Evan’s fingers. “Ah! Kyle.”

  “Shh,” Evan said. This time, when he ran his hand down Pete’s back, the gesture felt more soothing than possessive. “Easy, easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “I can’t help it,” Pete whined. He tried to push back again, but Evan stopped him by grabbing his hips. “I want you so badly.”

  “You can have me,” Evan said, “but you have to hang on for a minute longer while I get you ready.”

  Pete shivered. “All right, but please hurry.”

  “Well, since you asked nicely.”

  Evan fingered him until he was a squirming, shaking mess. By the end of it, Pete could no longer tell if his moans were real or fake. He was freezing and hot at the same time, numb and oversensitive. It was all he could do to make sure he was facing the camera and had a relaxed, pleasured expression on his face. He wanted to jump on Evan and ride him until he came all over his chest, shouting Evan’s name, but that wouldn’t fit Colette’s “vision.”

  “You ready to take my cock?” Evan asked loudly. He leaned down, chest to Pete’s back and whispered, “Everything feel okay?”

  “Yes,” Pete said to both. “Fuck yes.”

  Evan pulled his fingers out of him. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

  “Please fuck me,” Pete begged. “I’ll die if you don’t.” He wasn’t just talking dirty. He was drowning in desire, unsteady with need. He felt physically empty without Evan inside of him.

  Evan took mercy on him and got into position. He nudged Pete’s knees apart and pressed gently on the small of his back until Pete arched it just right. Then Evan guided himself into Pete.

  The first stroke in made Pete’s brain cut to radio silence. He groaned, closing his eyes so he could fully absorb the sensation. He heard shuffling and knew wi
thout looking that Colette and Yolanda had moved closer to capture his reaction. Evan thrust into him again, harder this time, and Pete threw his head back.

  “Christ, you feel so good,” Evan said. He put a hand on Pete’s shoulder and used it as leverage to rock harder into him. Pete lost the strength to hold himself up and collapsed onto the blanket. Evan followed him down, draping his whole body on top of Pete’s, never losing his rhythm for a second even as he changed from thrusting to grinding inside of him.

  Pete was already close. It was embarrassing how little stamina he had lately. And by lately, he meant ever since he’d started having sex with Evan.

  He wrapped a hand around himself and managed to pump once before Evan reached under him and smacked his hand away.

  “I think you were holding out on me before,” Evan purred in his ear, too quietly for the microphones to pick up. “I think if I fuck you just right, you can come untouched.”

  Pete’s whole body trembled. Evan fucked him so hard his eyes crossed, quick thrusts designed to stimulate his prostate. Pete held on for dear life, digging his fingers into the grass beneath the blanket.

  “Oh God, Kyle,” Pete cried out. “I’m close.”

  “Already?” Evan teased. He shoved himself deeply into Pete and held himself there until Pete keened. “I could fuck you all day.”

  “Fuck, please let me touch myself. I want to come.”

  Instead of answering, Evan shifted to a different angle, one that made Pete’s vision blur. Every stroke in made pleasure shoot into him, raw and overpowering. The tension between his legs was building to an apex. He wanted to cry, it felt so good. He wanted to scream. He wanted to come.

  Evan buried his face in Pete’s hair and breathed in. “You’re incredible. I can’t get enough.” He reached a hand around Pete’s chest and found a nipple, rolling it between his fingers. It wasn’t the touch Pete wanted, but it was like his desperation had opened new channels in his brain. The stimulation of that area connected to his groin in a way he’d never felt before, and within seconds, he was coming. He didn’t remember opening his mouth, but he could hear his moans echoing in the clearing, exquisite and tortured.

  Evan slowed his thrusts, presumably to avoid overstimulating Pete while his postorgasm sensitivity was at its peak. Regardless, Pete almost asked him to pull out. He was so oversensitive, just having him still inside made his nerves light up. But they needed the shot, and overstimulated or not, he loved being connected to Evan.

  When he’d recovered enough to push himself up on his elbows, Colette got their attention again.

  “That was hot,” she said, “but way too kinky for a first time. Like, bordering on orgasm denial. That would have been great if we were filming a second or third time, but we need to start vanilla and then build to the harder stuff.”

  “What should we do?” Pete asked blearily. Please say “Stop filming and take a nap in the grass.”

  “We’ll focus on Darko’s orgasm and either cut yours or transpose it so it looks like you came second. This time around, make it more intimate. In fact, get on your back, Jaden.”

  Pete flopped over, all too happy to not have to support his torso anymore. Evan kneeled between his legs and looked to Colette. She gave him a thumbs-up.

  Pete lifted his head enough to see Evan. He’d removed his shirt, revealing carved musculature and roseate nipples. His pants were around his knees. One hand was holding the base of his plump cock. Even through the condom, Pete could see the rubicund, blood-filled color of it. Pete had never asked him before if he used drugs to stay hard. Knowing Evan, probably not.

  The whole atmosphere of the shoot felt different now that they were facing each other. Evan studied him, and he stared back, trying to convey everything he was feeling with his eyes. Their intimacy felt more vivid now, more intense. Pete wasn’t even cold anymore, nestled as he was in this private, silent exchange between them.

  Evan leaned down and kissed his chest. “Was that too much earlier?”

  “Not at all.” Pete let a sloppy grin plop onto his face. “It was great. I’ve never come like that before.”

  Evan kissed him, wet and sugary. The kiss distracted Pete as Evan eased into him, rolling his hips in gradual, fluid movements. Pete sighed with every thrust. He relaxed, enjoying the ride even if it gave him no physical pleasure. Just being close to Evan like this was comforting. He was tired and sore, but there was no part of him that wanted this closeness to end. It was hard to remember he was working, hard to be Jaden fucking Kyle and not Pete having sex with Evan.

  Evan pumped three times into him and then, surprisingly, pulled out. Pete expected him to change angles and push back in, but instead he squeezed the base of his cock and shuddered.

  “What’s the hold up?” Colette called.

  “Sorry,” he panted. “I’m too close. I need a minute.”

  She frowned. “Really? Normally we have to bring in eight naked guys, hang up posters of John Boyega, and make a sacrifice to the heathen gods to get you to blow your load. What gives?”

  Evan wordlessly looked at Pete.

  Pete swallowed as understanding washed through him. His spent cock twitched even though there was no way he was getting hard again anytime soon.

  “Sorry,” Evan said to Colette, eyes still on Pete. “It’s just, uh, sometimes a scene gets to you, you know?”

  “Well, get it together,” Colette commanded. “If we walk away from this without some decent footage, I’m going to be pissed. You don’t know what I had to do to get this location.”

  “I’ll hold it in, I swear.”

  They resumed filming, and though Evan put on a good show, he had to stop a few more times and breathe before he could perform. By the time Colette signaled that they had enough footage, he was dripping with sweat despite the cold and had a look on his face that Pete could only call agonized.

  Evan came the second Colette told him he could, though saying he unraveled would be more accurate. He fell boneless on top of Pete, almost sobbing as his orgasm racked him. Pete held him through it, stroking his quivering, sweat-soaked back.

  After, he raised up on his elbows and smeared his lips against Pete’s. “Fuck, I can’t . . . I don’t think I’ve ever . . .” He gave up and kissed Pete again. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine. Though there is one thing.”

  “What?”

  “You’re crushing me.” He wriggled under Evan, showcasing how very trapped he was by Evan’s more muscular frame.

  Evan laughed and pushed himself off. “Sorry. I’ll try to roll to the side the next time I have an orgasm that alters my world view.”

  Pete reached for his hand. “It’s okay.”

  “That’s a wrap, boys,” Colette interrupted. “Nice work. At least, toward the end.”

  Oh shit. Pete had almost forgotten about her. “Thanks, Colette. Need anything else from us?”

  “No,” she said, but she had a strange look on her face, somewhere between displeasure and curiosity. She opened her mouth as if to say something more, but instead she grumbled, “Porn stars,” as if that were a complete sentence in and of itself.

  Pete blinked. “Huh?”

  “I might have expected this from Darko, but not from you, Jaden.”

  Pete sat up. “Expected what?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She snapped her laptop closed as if shutting the door on the conversation. “You’ll have to hurry if you want to have time to shower before work. Unless you want to show up smelling like sex and the great outdoors.”

  Pete rifled in his pocket for his phone and checked the time. Shit.

  “I have to go,” he said to Evan.

  “Can I come with you?” Evan waggled his eyebrows.

  “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

  Evan pouted. “Fine.” His expression transformed into a grin. “You can make it up to me.”

  “How?”

 
“Stand up.” Evan got up, hooked his hands under Pete’s armpits, and hauled him to his feet.

  Pete made an embarrassing squealing noise. “Evan, what the hell?”

  “Get dressed and follow me.” He turned to Colette and shouted, “We’ll be right back.”

  She waved him off, too deep in conversation with Yolanda to even glance their way.

  Pete had just pulled his pants up to his hips when Evan grabbed his hand and tugged him to the other side of the tree. Out of view of their makeshift picnic, he pulled out his phone and held it up. “Smile.”

  “What?” Pete covered his face with his hands. “No way!”

  “Come on,” Evan whined. “We don’t have any pictures together.”

  “Evan, we’ve done entire photo shoots.”

  “Yeah, but those are work photos. I don’t want some stuffy professional shot. I want something natural.”

  Pete made a rude noise. “You know some couples pay a lot of money to have professional photos taken of them.”

  Evan looked triumphant. “Some couples, huh?”

  Pete opened and closed his mouth. He wisely decided not to comment further. “I don’t want to take a photo when I’m all disheveled and sweaty and sexed-out.”

  “But that’s precisely how I like you.” Evan kissed him, and Pete’s already weak knees threatened to collapse. “Please? For me?”

  One glimpse of Evan’s beseeching smile, and Pete folded like a house of cards. “All right. Fine.”

  Evan tapped his camera app and faced it toward them. It was a pretty shot with the sunny clearing and vibrant green grass in the background. Pete smoothed his ruffled hair and smiled. Evan planted a kiss on his cheek and, without peeking, tapped the camera button.

  The shutter clicked, and the image froze on the screen. Evan brought it closer so they could see. Maybe Pete was drunk on hormones, but he was actually a little touched. They looked great: flushed and healthy and strangely in tune with one another.

  “You like it?” Evan asked. “Because I love it.”

  Pete’s lungs throbbed. He wondered if it were possible to be so content it actually hurt.