BRANDON WASN’T particularly looking forward to the fight with Travis that he knew was coming. Travis had followed Brandon home but had been acting surly all evening. They’d had a dinner of miscellaneous leftovers from Brandon’s fridge mostly in silence.
As Travis gathered up the dishes and put them in the sink, Brandon said, “What would you have me do?”
“About?”
“Us, Travis. What should we do about us? Because here’s what I know—I like spending time with you. I can see us having a relationship for a long time. I feel things for you I’ve never felt for anybody. But I don’t think keeping things secret is really working. But what alternative do we have? Say we go public? Then my show gets canceled.”
“Why do you think the show would get canceled?”
“The Restoration Channel is very heterosexual.”
“Is it? Because I’ve seen episodes of other shows in which there are same-sex couples who are clients. That show with the brothers who make over houses? They renovated a house for a gay couple on an episode I saw just last week.”
“Since when do you watch the Restoration Channel?”
Travis shrugged. “I can’t sleep sometimes, and they reair all their prime-time shows at weird times of the morning.”
“You know that we’ve spent nearly every night together since we started sleeping together?”
“You sleep really deeply.”
Brandon sighed and rubbed his forehead. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. “So, what? We go public and brace ourselves for the consequences? I think it will be bad, Travis.”
“Maybe you’re overestimating their homophobia. That show that got canceled, the one with the gay couple? That was Garrett Harwood’s predecessor’s decision, wasn’t it? Maybe Harwood isn’t so close-minded.”
Brandon looked at Travis. Was he serious? “Well, is that what you want? To go public? Because I can already see the tabloid headlines.”
Travis sat back down in the chair, hard. “You think our relationship would hit the tabloids? Are you really that famous?”
“My divorce was all over them. It’s not fun having your dirty laundry aired like that. Even if the truth is not what people think. Some of those reporters are piranhas.”
Travis looked startled. This was clearly not an idea that had entered his mind. “Oh God. That would be a scandal, wouldn’t it? If we go public, we go public.”
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
“What a goddamn mess.” Travis put his face in his hands.
Brandon didn’t know what choice, if any, they had. When they’d first started hooking up, it had been fun and sexy, but now Brandon was planning a future for himself and Travis—even if Travis didn’t know about that yet—and he didn’t want to break up. But they were in a bind, weren’t they?
Before he could say anything, his phone rang. Brandon picked it up and looked at the caller ID. “It’s Virginia. I better take this.”
“Sure.”
Brandon answered the phone.
“Hi, Brandon, glad I caught you.”
“Hello, Virginia. How are you?”
“I was wondering if I could see you in my office at Restoration HQ first thing in the morning.”
Brandon already knew that something was wrong, and his first thought was that somehow word about him and Travis had gotten to Virginia. But how? Ismael? That seemed unlikely; Virginia and Ismael had barely ever spoken to each other.
Or… Erik had left after Travis and Brandon had argued, hadn’t he? How long had Erik been listening before he’d walked into the living room earlier that evening?
Shit.
“I can do that,” he said. “Can I have a hint about what we need to discuss?”
“I think it’s better to talk about it in the office. I know you’ve got things to film at the house tomorrow. So let’s say nine o’clock?”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
When Brandon hung up, Travis was looking at him expectantly.
“Virginia wants me to come to the Restoration offices for a meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.”
“She wouldn’t say what it’s about. There’s an issue. And I think it’s that she knows about us.”
“How can she… oh no. Erik was probably eavesdropping today.”
“That’s my best guess.” It was like the realization of all of Brandon’s nightmares. “Holy shit. If she cancels the show…. I mean, I’ve invested so much money into this house already, so much time, and what was it all for?”
“Maybe it’s about the Jessica Benton house.”
Brandon had nearly forgotten about that. He’d met with Jessica the week before, and they’d had a nice talk about her vision for the house she’d just bought. Starting Monday, he and Travis would have to split their time between Jessica’s house and the Argyle Road house, and some of the crew would be moving now that the bulk of the work was nearly done. Travis was scheduled to do an inspection and put together an estimate for the renovation with Jessica’s input in a few days.
Was it possible that they’d gotten to a place where their relationship just wasn’t tenable anymore? Because now Brandon needed the show almost as much as he needed Travis in his life, but both….
“It’s probably not a good idea to make any decisions until you hear what Virginia has to say,” said Travis.
TRAVIS FELT like that phone call had let him off the hook.
Because what did he really want here?
It was as if he’d been floating for the past few weeks. The time he’d spent with Brandon was great. He enjoyed fighting over house design. He loved chatting over takeout meals. He’d come to Brandon’s tonight without even thinking about it much. They did have something real, but Travis was growing frustrated with the secrecy.
The secrecy might have been their best defense mechanism, though.
Travis hadn’t thought about the tabloid aspect of it all. In the scheme of things, Brandon was niche famous. Restoration Channel viewers knew Brandon, but did anyone else? Did it matter? Tabloid writers probably knew who Travis was now, so if they got wind of the fact that he was with Brandon—this nice man who used to be married to a woman who broke his heart by cheating on him, and who had found solace in the arms of a man—there would be hell to pay.
He’d thought he could put all of this in different boxes. That he could do his job on set and be with Brandon after hours and it wouldn’t matter. But now it mattered. The lines were blurry. Separating the arguments they had about roofs and paint from how he felt about Brandon was getting harder. He cared for Brandon, wanted things to work out, but this was fucking hard.
So what would happen if Virginia did find out? The network had made too much of a financial investment to just cancel the show, at least in Travis’s mind. Travis had thought that just being a couple as they worked on these houses would be fun, would make everything easier, but somehow, despite the persistent, pesky presence of cameras like mosquitos on a hot day, he’d pushed the fact that they were about to be on television out of his mind. It hadn’t occurred to him that being a couple at the house meant being a couple on the show. And anyone invested in Brandon’s divorce would likely have a lot to say about the fact that Brandon was with a man now.
“You’re right,” Brandon said, scratching his chin. “She might just want to talk about Jessica Benton, although if that was the case, why couldn’t she just tell me that over the phone?”
Brandon pushed away from the table and stood up. He paced back and forth across the kitchen. “If they cancel the show, well, we’ll finish the house. I’ll pay everyone’s salaries, and then we’ll sell the damn thing and be rid of it.”
“That’s generous of you.”
“I thought I loved this house. But it’s only brought me problems.” Brandon stopped pacing and leaned against the counter. “That house, the first time I walked it, totally charmed me. And I’ll admit, in my crazier moments, I think about buying out the Restoration Channel’s share and keeping the house. But fuck… this house. Thousands of dollars in the hole, I might not make that money back, and now it might be for nothing because I was thinking with my dick instead of my head.”
“Not for nothing, Brandon.” Travis stood.
But wait, Brandon was thinking about keeping the house?
Travis pushed that aside. He’d deal with it later. He walked toward Brandon. “Not for nothing. We did have some fun, didn’t we? And we met each other. That never would have happened if it hadn’t been for the show.”
“What are you saying?”
“I know we started off with just a physical thing because we were attracted to each other. I understand, even, that part of why we argued so much in the beginning of the project was because we were both sexually frustrated. But the more time we spend together, the more I kinda like you.”
Brandon smiled. “I kinda like you too.”
Travis didn’t want to break up—that was the bottom line. It would be taking the easy way out. They end things now, go back to just being work colleagues, and Travis got to keep his job. Brandon could go into the meeting with Virginia, tell her there was nothing between him and Travis, and he wouldn’t be lying. But was that what Travis wanted?
No. They were too enmeshed. He didn’t think it would be possible to just go back to working as though there was nothing between them. And Travis wanted to work with Brandon and be with him. They were good together.
Travis stepped closer to Brandon. “I’ve never been the best at expressing my feelings.”
“You express a lot.”
“About tiles and flooring, sure. About anything deeper than that? About what’s in my heart? I have a hard time even thinking about that sometimes. But the truth is that you got under my skin. I didn’t even think hard about coming home with you tonight because I want to spend as much time with you as possible. And I want for us to be able to have a fucking conversation at the house without feeling paranoid that we’re about to be discovered. But shit, I don’t need anyone digging into my personal life.”
“You were right. Let’s not make any decisions until I know what Virginia has to say.”
“Brandon, hear what I’m telling you. I don’t like doing this, so you may never hear it again.”
There was that stupid little half smile on Brandon’s face, the expression he made when he knew he had one over on Travis. Travis wanted to kiss that expression off Brandon’s face.
Which told him a lot about how he felt.
“We can’t just go back to how it was,” Travis said. “I am feeling some things for you. I want for us to be together, but… I think this is about to get a whole lot more challenging.”
Brandon nodded. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“Then let’s not think about it.”
Brandon looked up and met Travis’s gaze.
Travis stood. He held out his hand. When Brandon took it, Travis helped him up and led him to the bedroom. They would forget about everything tonight except each other, if Travis had anything to say about it. They’d make love—as gross as Travis felt about that phrase, it was the best description of what he knew was about to happen—and lose themselves in each other. They’d worry about the rest of it when they woke up.
They’d been together long enough that Travis knew Brandon’s body. He knew the shape of it, the contours of it, the way Brandon smelled, the noises he made. He got Brandon out of his clothes quickly and wriggled out of his own, until it was just the two of them, naked, on the bed.
Travis licked Brandon’s neck, loving the rough texture of day-old beard and the salty taste of Brandon’s skin. Then he trailed kisses along Brandon’s shoulder to his armpit. Brandon wore some kind of woodsy/minty deodorant, but Travis would have much preferred him to go without. Travis loved the scent of sweaty man, probably some kind of locker room impression from his formative years as a gay teenager at a public high school in Queens, but he loved Brandon’s weird affectations too. Brandon wasn’t a cologne wearer, but he seemed to like aftershaves and lotions with aggressively masculine scents.
Travis trailed kisses along the center of Brandon’s chest, which was like a blank canvas—no scars or tattoos, just a little dusting of hair that was a shade darker than the blondish hair on his head. Brandon’s gym-sculpted body was something to behold, strong and masculine, with defined pecs and a six-pack. Travis ran his tongue over the bumps and grooves of Brandon’s torso, and Brandon hissed in response. Then he groaned as Travis’s body brushed over his hard cock. Travis smiled to himself, satisfied that he was making Brandon feel.
Brandon shifted his hips up. “God, suck me.”
But Travis enjoyed torturing Brandon too much. He pressed his face into the space between Brandon’s cock and the top of his thigh and inhaled. This was where Brandon smelled the most like himself. No minty soap or woodsy deodorant here, just sweaty man, and Travis reveled in it. He licked Brandon’s skin, then turned his head and darted his tongue out to trace the side of Brandon’s cock.
“Oh my God,” Brandon grunted. “Stop teasing.”
Travis propped himself up with a hand on either side of Brandon’s hips. “Did you want something?”
“You bastard.”
Travis laughed. Then he dove and swallowed Brandon’s cock. Brandon moaned.
There wasn’t enough space to do this well on the bed, so Travis knelt at the foot of it and yanked Brandon’s body to the edge so his feet dangled on either side of Travis. Then Travis got back to work, worshipping Brandon’s cock, touching it reverentially, kissing and licking it as though it would help him find religion.
“That’s too good,” Brandon said. “Get back up here.”
But Travis kept at it until he could sense Brandon was getting very close. He reluctantly leaned away and crawled up on the bed beside Brandon. But before he could settle, Brandon practically jumped at him and took Travis’s cock into his mouth.
“Jesus,” said Travis.
“I’ll make you see Jesus.”
Travis wanted to laugh, but his body wouldn’t form anything but a grunt as his cock was enveloped in the wet heat of Brandon’s mouth. Brandon rubbed Travis’s balls with the heel of his hand and started probing behind them with his fingers. Travis thrust forward, loving this attention, wanting more of it.
But he wanted Brandon too, so he shifted his weight so that Brandon still had access to the goods but Travis could continue to touch and taste Brandon’s cock. This 69 position was suddenly the best of everything. Travis inhaled Brandon’s sweaty scent and licked and stroked that big cock, loving the feel and taste of it, while Brandon made him feel like his whole body was pulsing. It was overwhelming, it was amazing, and it was about to get messy.
Brandon was really fucking good at sucking cock for a guy who had been in the closet until recently. Good Lord.
Travis thrust his hips, trying to encourage Brandon to speed up, and Travis rubbed Brandon harder, stroking that big cock with gusto. Brandon mumbled some blasphemies and started stroking Travis hard and a bit roughly, exactly the way Travis liked it.
“I’m gonna come on your face,” Travis threatened, because suddenly he was right there.
“I’ll come on yours first,” Brandon said breathlessly.
Brandon won the race, coming with a long moan and pumping into Travis’s mouth. Travis took it all, letting the metallic taste sit on his tongue before swallowing. But he could barely do that, because his body was falling apart, every bit of pleasure pooling near his cock, and then suddenly Brandon’s mouth covered him again and he was coming.
He came back to himself slowly and realized he was staring at Brandon’s hairy thighs. Laughing softly, Travis shifted around again so that he could lay his head on a pillow.
“I feel sometimes,” Brandon said, “that sex with you is like the sex I should have been having in my twenties. It’s intense, sometimes it’s fast, and I always go off like a rocket.”
“I’ve got skills.”
Brandon smiled and ran a hand down Travis’s chest. “You do.” Brandon closed his eyes for a long moment. He looked content and satisfied. When he opened his eyes again, he met Travis’s gaze. “I forgot all about drywall and paint for a minute there.”
“When I can get it up again, I’ll have to fuck you silly. It’s not enough for you to forget drywall—I want you to forget your name.”
Brandon laughed. “I bet you could do it.” He sighed. “I have to pee, but my body is made of Jell-O.”
Travis rolled onto his side and put an arm around Brandon. “Don’t get up just yet.” He kissed Brandon softly, a deep sleepiness and contentment starting to settle into his body. “Maybe we can get up tomorrow and everything will be the same.”
“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky, but I’m willing to go along with it for now.
“Good.” Travis yawned. He lifted his arm. “You can get up now. I’m gonna go to sleep.”
“Is that how it is?”
“You may feel like you’re in your twenties when we’re having sex, but I’m definitely in my thirties, and I need some recovery time. I might as well get some shut-eye while my body recharges. That way, when we both wake up at three because we’re worried about tomorrow, I can roll you over and—”
“I get it.” Brandon got out of bed, laughing.