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“I’m not sure I’m up for this,” Dennis proclaimed.
I took another sip of wine and placed the glass beside me on the floor.
“Yeah,” I said, “these sex scenes are kind of intimidating.”
He chuckled. “That’s not what I was referring to.”
“Oh no?” I said, suddenly a bit embarrassed for having revealed my own anxiety.
We were sitting on the floor of my flat, with all of the windows open, in shorts and T-shirts, hoping for a breeze. Summer, in its heat, was pushing in on us and even the nights were getting to be overwhelming.
“No, actually I mean the emotional stuff,” he said.
Dennis fanned himself with the script and stretched out his legs—his long, muscular, sun-kissed legs—letting one rest against mine.
“I mean, sure, it’s intimidating to get naked in front of a whole bunch of strangers. But I’ve been pretty close to that in a lot of my other projects. No, what scares me is having to be so... well, so vulnerable on-screen. To open up like that for the whole world to see how sensitive you can be—it’s fucking frightening.”
“But you’re one of the most open people I know.”
“I’m friendly, sure. But this guy, this character, I’ve never had to be him before. He’s like a real person—complicated. He’s an asshole one minute and then the next he's the most affable dude you know. I don’t know if I have the depth.”
I scoffed.
“Of course you do. Just because you’ve never been given the chance, doesn’t mean you don’t have the ability. I know you don’t like me to talk about it, but I’ve seen your films, you’re great. No, you haven’t had to be this kind of guy but it’s in there, you can see the layers in every choice you make. You're not just some walking mannequin, spouting lines, you have real talent.”
Dennis shook his head.
“Thank you,” he said. “Seriously. Thank you for listening to my bullshit and therapizing me. And thank you for the encouragement. You’re too much sometimes.”
I took a sip of wine. “‘Too much’?”
“Even if most actors didn’t just roll their eyes at my moaning, they certainly wouldn’t give me any type of praise. It's dog eat dog out there, a lot of them will do anything to make themselves look better. Even if it means fucking with your head.”
“I’m just telling you the truth. And I hope I'd never do anything to fuck with anyone like that.”
“I know,” he said, reaching forward and giving my foot a playful slap. “Because you’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. It’s beautiful.”
Suddenly he grabbed my foot and pulled it onto his lap.
He ran his hand down my calf and then around my ankle. I bit my lip and inhaled quickly, trying to tamp down the rush that shot through me and landed below my waist.
“What’s this?” he asked. “Is there a story behind it?”
“My tattoo?” I asked.
“Uh, yeah,” he said mockingly, twisting my big toe playfully.
“Ow,” I cried out, grinning. “Yes, but it’s a stupid story. You don’t wanna hear it, trust me.”
“Yeah. I do.”
He grabbed my ankle and pulled me forward a bit.
“It’s embarrassing,” I said. “I got it on a trip to Thailand. Could you get more cliché?”
“Does it mean anything?”
“Not in and of itself, no. But I got it with my ex. We got a matching set—his is exactly like mine. It was supposed to symbolize how we were connected—unbroken circles. I told you, it’s corny.”
Dennis gave me a soft smile. “I think it’s kind of sweet actually.”
I shrugged.
“It’s only sweet if you stay unbroken. When he dumps you a year later, it’s just a dumb tattoo.”
I suddenly felt very self-conscious and a wave of sadness hit me. Max was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about right now. Or ever again. I lifted my foot from his lap and pulled my legs closer to me.
He nodded and his voice was softly sincere when he spoke.
“If anyone is dumb, it’s him. Anyone who would break up with you, Zay, is clearly a fool. He’s the one who lost out.”
Not knowing what to say to that, I just blinked. I felt on the verge of tears, yet at the same time, a bursting happiness made my chest feel tight.
Dennis tossed his script to the floor and leaned over it, resting on his elbows. I saw the nape of his neck, the strong lines that disappeared below the collar of his shirt, that expanse of skin just begging to be kissed.
He looked up.
“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he said, his voice low and rough. The air caught in my throat. “I try to distract myself, but all I see when I close my eyes is your face. That smooth skin, those lips, in need of kissing.”
He stared at me. His eyes seemed to shine in the half-darkness of my salón, lit only by one cheap lamp in the corner. I didn’t know what to say, the wine clouded my mind, my emotions clanged around inside me, clumsy and dumb.
“What?” I managed to stammer.
Dennis smiled. “You okay, buddy? Jesus, how much of that stuff have you had?” He laughed, looking down at the script. “Your line is, ‘Then why don’t you kiss them?’.”
“Oh, right,” I said, sense returning. “My line. The script. Totally. Sorry, I spaced there for a minute.”
“Maybe we should call it a night. It’s been a long day.”
“No, no, it’s all good. I’m good. I’m fine.” I objected, perhaps too hastily. I peered down at my script. “Unless you need to go, that is,” I added, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “It’s whatever.”
He stayed silent until I was forced to lift my eyes from the script. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile and he was studying me.
“No,” he said finally. “I don’t need to go.”
I nodded.
The way he looked at me, I found myself going instantly hard. I pulled my knees up to my chest in an attempt to cover it up, but I think it just made it more obvious. He stole a glance at my crotch and then ducked his head smiling.
“You know, you don't have to worry if things... happen during rehearsals.” He let his eyes wander up and down my body. “What I mean is don't be embarrassed, just go with it. I won't be offended or mind in any way. It's just natural.”
I almost dropped my script.
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging, trying my damnedest to sound nonchalant. “I know—I'm not—I mean, yeah, like I wouldn't be embarrassed or anything. You know—I mean— It's cool.”
He nodded, biting his bottom lip, his eyes bright.
“Okay, good. Cool. Maybe we should work on the café scene then. After his parents come to visit.”
“Maybe we should just get this one down,” I said bashfully.
He raised a brow.
“You sure you don’t want to work on something less... intense?”
“I’m fine. I mean—unless you’d rather do something else?”
He shook his head.
“I can’t reach you from over there, though,” he said.
“Over here?”
“Yeah. The scene calls for a make-out session. I can’t kiss you if you’re at the other end of the sofa. You’re gonna have to come a little closer.”
My erection still hadn’t faded and I hesitated.
“Of course, I could always come to you,” he said.
He swiftly removed the script I had placed over my crotch and tossed it aside, resting his hand on my bare knee.
“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he repeated the lines. “I try to distract myself, but all I see when I close my eyes is your face. That smooth skin, those lips in need of kissing.”
“Then why don’t you kiss them?”
And he did.
As we kissed, his hand moved from my knee and slowly up my thigh. I felt his fingers slide under the fabric of my shorts, and, surprised, I pulled away.
“No?” he asked.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I wanted to say. But what was this? Some “method acting” way of understanding his character? Was he just playing with me, experimenting?
“Do you want me to stop?”
Who cared what it was. I wanted it. Badly.
“No,” I said. “Don't stop.”
He smiled his crooked smile and began kissing me.
He moved with less hesitation now. His hand was inside my shorts, stroking my erect dick as his tongue played in my mouth. He palmed my balls, rolling them against each other, and then gave them a slight tug. A shiver of excitement shot through me and I moaned.
“Oh, you like that?” He murmured. His fingers danced up my cock and teased the slit, smearing the pre-cum that had begun to leak. My own hand fumbled, the angle awkward, as I searched to return the caresses. Through the thin covering of fabric my hand connected with him, hard, throbbing. I stroked as best I could and a low purr arose from the back of his throat.
“Okay,” he whispered, pushing away from me as he reached down to divest himself of his pants. I pulled my shirt off, and by the time I had tossed it aside, he was crouched between my legs fully naked.
“And now,” he said, sliding his hand under my backside. He lifted me and deposited me onto the sofa. He hooked his fingers in at the waist of my shorts, pulling my rear to the edge of the couch and peeling off the clothing at the same time. I fell back slightly and my legs came to rest on his shoulders so that I was completely splayed before him. He knelt on the floor and ran his hands up and down my body, his thirsty eyes drinking in every inch of flesh. I had never felt so naked, so exposed, and never had I felt so desirable.
“Oh god, Zay,” he said, “I want you.”
It was my turn to smile. I saw his cock jump in response.
“So have me,” I said.
He practically dove, his mouth connecting with my cock and going down, down, until the full length of me was enveloped.
“Oh god,” I moaned.
Experimenting? Hardly, I thought. This was not the movie star’s first day on set; he had played this scene before. And played it well.
His head moved up and down, turning and angling with each stroke, burying his nose in the nest of my crotch. He kept it up until I thought I could stand it no longer and then his mouth was off. He moved, letting his tongue guide him as he nestled under my balls, licking, taking them in his mouth, one by one, and bathing them in the warmth. Then he alternated between my balls and teasing my shaft with his tongue.
I moaned, rocking my hips, pushing myself against his mouth. I wasn’t usually so bold but I felt as if I were on fire, and with every thrust, he growled with satisfaction and pulled me closer. Suddenly he stopped but I couldn’t open my eyes to see why. My body shuddered from the waves of sensation he had caused. Before I could wonder too long, I felt his wet fingertips at my hole. He traced and teased while his mouth went back to work, slipping just the tip of a finger in and out of my opening, pressing his thumb on that sensitive area between it and my scrotum.
I called out, arching my back, a spasm of rapture.
“No, stop, stop,” I pleaded.
He did. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
I sat up, breathing heavily. “I like it—too much... I don’t wanna. Not yet.”
He licked his wet lips and chuckled.
“Let me do you,” I said.
He pulled me to him for a deep kiss.
“Okay,” he agreed and sat on the sofa.
As I knelt before him, it felt heady. This is what a supplicant feels like, kneeling before the altar, I thought.
“Look at me,” Denny said in a throaty gasp. “Let me see your eyes.”
I kept my mouth working and did as asked.
“Oh god,” he exclaimed when our eyes met. He caressed my face. “That's beautiful.”
I ran my hand over his torso, tweaking his nipple. His eyes fluttered shut, his head lolling back.
Heat rushed through me. I thrilled at the thought that I had caused such sensations in this beautiful man. That I had such power over such a magnificent creature.
I grabbed his thighs with both hands and renewed my vigor.
He threw his arms out, balling his hands into fists, arching his back then lifted his backside off the cushions and began to work his cock down my throat.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “You’re amazing.”
His praise only made me work harder. I could feel my lips stretched over my teeth, as I massaged his flesh.
“I’m so close,” he gasped and I moaned in reply.
“Zay, Zay,” he cried, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me off him. I looked at him, slightly confused, drunk with passion.
“Let’s come together,” he said.
I nodded.
He pulled me close so that our cocks crashed against one another. He wrapped his large, strong hand around them, his fingers encircling both his and my member as one. And he began to stroke, first slowly and then with passionate force. Skin against skin, man against man. I felt as if any moment we would erupt into flames. And we did, shooting hot floods onto one another's chests.