THE large beast came barreling out of the woods, crashing through the underbrush, swept a branch to the side, and roared.
Of course, without the animal noise which would be overlaid during postproduction, the roar sounded rather human and weak, but Ash could imagine the effect that could be created with close-up shots, mood lighting, and a large predator’s snarl.
Mythfits wouldn’t do that. Well, they would, but then they would also cut to Ash and Miya cooing over the sight of a sasquatch in the wild. Apparently brownies and weather spirits weren’t frightened by seven-foot-tall man-apes protecting their territory.
Martin, the guy in the costume, motioned for a bottle of water. There were two versions of the mask, one he could talk in and one he couldn’t. He was wearing the second now, as it was easier to put on and they were only filming action shots—it was highly entertaining to watch a sasquatch drink through a bendy straw.
“All right, let’s get set up for the first interactions,” the second director, Sabina, said. “We’ll run through the entrance again, but this time let’s swivel round to see Hamish and Nariko unflinching, despite the bigfoot in their face.”
Ash looked at the rig and figured it would take less than an hour to refigure everything and be ready for shooting. He picked up Boy Erased and settled into his chair to read. Then he pulled out his phone to check it and smiled when he saw the message from Remy.
So bummed I wasn’t deemed crucial for island shooting D: why @ universe!
Smiling, Ash tapped out a quick reply. You’re not missing much. Mostly trees and cameramen.
Not helping! I looked at pictures of the island’s national parks. Jealous forever.
It was indeed unfortunate. But the cost of getting him to Vancouver Island and putting him up was prohibitive when he could advise and script-doctor over the phone—even if Remy would love it here.
Unless….
There was no reason Remy couldn’t come anyway. They both had the weekend off, miraculously, and Ash was already here….
Thanking the universe for mobiles and data, Ash phoned the Empress and inquired about a room. Why yes, they did have one available for the weekend. A view of the harbor? Not a problem. Two beds? Well, no, sir, but they could give him a suite with a king and a pullout sofa. For Friday and Saturday night? Perfect.
Once the reservation was made, he switched back to the text thread with Remy.
I’m languishing in the office with no one else around, revising another script and waiting by the phone in case someone calls. And thinking about your face and your lips and your beard.
I’m so bored.
Did you go back to filming? Because ugh if you did. I need you to entertain me.
Flushing at the memory of Remy’s pink cheeks, Ash shook his head. Not filming, on the phone. Wanted to be sure was possible before told you. Want to take ferry to Victoria on Friday and spend weekend here? Can go back to mainland Sunday.
WHAT?!!!!! Not serious! was the instant reply. Followed by, Serious?
Chuckling, Ash wrote, Of course serious. Come. I’ll show you around.
There was a long pause. Ash waited and waited, his book long forgotten. But there was still no answer when the director called to him a minute later.
Scowling, Ash set his phone aside. He went to work and pushed his anxiousness down, and doing his best to ignore it.
Fortunately Hamish was an especially confident creature, comfortable in his skin and not prone to worry. The only wrinkle in his life was Niall, who wasn’t in the scene, so Hamish hummed placidly under Ash’s skin.
Playing him was better than therapy.
An hour later Ash was finally able to check his phone. Remy had sent two messages, twenty minutes apart.
I would love to but can’t. No way I can afford.
Sorry :(
Ash frowned at his phone and wrote as quick as he could, Don’t be silly. Weekend is on me. My treat. Will only cost you ferry ticket.
Dude! I couldn’t!
Yes you could.
Living in Vancouver is expensive. I can’t let you pay for a last minute hotel because of me!
Ash scowled. He wondered how to get out of this conversation quickly and tactfully, but eventually gave it up for lost Living here is lot less expensive without rent/mortgage. Let me do this for you?
Again, the wait was excruciating. He’d never done anything like this before. Maybe it was too soon? He might have crushed his water bottle if it weren’t made of metal.
But finally the answer came, simple and such a relief that Ash’s heart leapt.
Okay.
Ash curbed the desire to fist pump—well, for a moment.
It turned out Hamish’s implacable calm was more difficult to harness when Ash’s happy heart couldn’t stop beating double time.
REMY arrived on the island in the late afternoon, well before Ash finished work. He sent more than one apologetic text as the filming dragged on and on, and insisted Remy go to the Empress.
I know they won’t let you in, but wait in the lobby. I’ll be there asap.
ASAP turned out to be almost eight, and Ash felt extremely guilty as he slunk into the historic building… until he saw Remy, lounging on a leather couch and chatting with three other early-twentysomethings.
Ash licked his lips and walked up to them.
Cuddled close and holding hands, two women sat on the same couch as Remy. One had long, curly hair in an intricate braid, the other a shaved head revealing a tattoo. Their friend was male, dressed in a pink button-down, and had a stylized cut with shaved sides and long fringe. He flicked his head to get the hair out of his eyes, and they widened as he noticed Ash and looked him up and down.
Then Remy saw him, their eyes caught, and a smile lit his face. Ash answered it with a more subdued, shier one. “’Ello.”
“Hey! You finally escaped.”
“Fin’lly,” he agreed. He was knackered, and after a day as Hamish, his accent was slipping. What followed came out very Scottish. “Readay tae check in?”
“Oh my,” said the man on the couch. “Damn.” He sighed and fanned himself. “Nice meeting you, Remy. But we won’t keep you any longer… not that we could.” He looked Ash up and down, again, and then sighed, again. Ash went red.
Laughing, Remy stood and said goodbye. “Libby, Sarah, Beau, it’s been a pleasure.”
The one with the braid waved, and a rather sparkly diamond glinted on her left ring finger. “Later. Maybe we’ll catch you again. Though, maybe not.” She also eyed up Ash, and if he could burn hotter, he would do.
Since reaching adulthood and growing into his ears and weight, Ash had been blatantly admired many times. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it, even if he’d learned to ignore it. But never had anyone insinuated he and another man were an item. Butterflies swooped into his stomach. These strangers thought…. It had been a long time since he’d last dreamed about others thinking of him as part of a set.
Remy slung his bag over his shoulder and motioned for Ash to lead him to check-in. “Sorry about that. I didn’t tell them anything, but they assumed and….”
“It’s fine,” Ash said, surprised to find it was. They clearly hadn’t recognized him. Being seen as gay… well, it had been a relatively painless experience.
Though probably for the best that Remy hadn’t confirmed anything. Really.
THE suite was fancy. It had three rooms—the bedroom, bathroom, and living room—and all the furniture was pristine, the pillows perfectly plumped. The hotel might be a historic monument, but the room had all the comforts of modern furnishings and décor.
After a brief look round and considering the state of his boots—dirty after three days filming in a national park—Ash kicked them off, dropped his bag by the couch, and went to check out the view. He might be getting somewhat jaded about such luxuries, because when he turned back, Remy still stood by the doorway, his mouth wide enough to catch flies.
“Ash,” he said somewhat uncertainly. “How…? This looks expensive.” He turned to Ash, chewing his lip.
Ash shrugged it off. “Not so much.”
“But… we could have gone somewhere cheaper.”
Ash shook his head. “Naw, the Empress is the place to stay.” Remy didn’t look convinced. “I told you, I can afford it.” Ash licked his lips. “And I wanted to do this for you, to spend time with you.”
Remy considered him for a long moment, then gave a hesitant soft smile. “Okay,” he murmured.
Ash smiled. Then, because he couldn’t deny himself a second longer, he crossed the room to kiss that inviting mouth. “Hey you.”
“Hey.” Remy pushed up to kiss him back. Warmth spread from his lips and his hands where they touched. Ash wanted to lean into it, into Remy, to learn what came next—
His stomach let out a large rumble, and Remy pulled away with a laugh.
Too tired to do anything else, Ash called down to room service. Before long, a tray arrived, weighed down with hot chocolate, popcorn, ricotta and fruit, and carrot cake.
Ash tipped the lady, then turned back to see Remy already had a spoonful of ricotta in his mouth and was moaning.
“Oh my God. Totally worth staying here for the food,” he sighed with delight.
Ash shook his head and, as he settled next to Remy on the couch, lifted a cup of cocoa made with heavy cream and dark chocolate, according to the menu. It was pure decadence. He’d need to wash it down with a ton of water. Worth it, though, after his long day.
“Good?” Remy asked. When Ash nodded, he reached for his own mug and hummed with delight. “I could get used to this,” Remy sighed, then snagged a strawberry and ran it through the ricotta.
Me too, Ash thought, not thinking of the menu at all.
“Even the popcorn is extra good.” Remy almost sounded betrayed, and Ash snickered into his drink.
Buoyed by a full stomach, a few ounces of caffeine, and Remy’s presence, Ash pushed aside his other burning desires—there would be time enough—and coaxed Remy out for a walk.
Inner Harbour was striking at night. Located inland and surrounded almost entirely by the city, the port in Victoria was unusual, Ash suspected, because from almost every direction, more of Victoria lay across the ocean waters.
Ash and Remy crossed the street, walked to the footpaths near the water, and headed north—so Remy said. They ambled, taking in the sights. Despite the hour and season, some people lingered, though Ash bet not nearly as many as there would be in a few weeks when summer tourism began.
Despite the chill in the air, the evening was pleasant. Though possibly Ash’s perceptions were colored by the warmth which shot up his arm and settled in his belly every time Remy’s hand bumped against his. His fingers tingled with the desire to curl around Remy’s. He brushed them together deliberately, spotted a laughing couple up ahead, then pulled away.
They curved around the bend of the marina and walked the length of a dock, Remy pointing out the different ships and sights, and sighing over the view. The last rays of light were fading from the skies, glinting off the water, and peeking from behind the buildings located farther west of them.
“It really is beautiful here. And,” he said, “rather romantic, yeah?”
Ash cleared his throat. “Aye.”
Remy smiled—it wasn’t his usual bright beaming grin, but something softer, satisfied. “Yeah. I thought so.”
They stood in silence for several long moments, watching the lights dim. Finally Remy turned with shining eyes and said, “Should we keep heading north?”
Ash nodded.
They walked back to the main path and continued their tour of the port.
“Have you ever been boating?” Remy asked.
Ash shook his head. “You?”
“No.” Remy contemplated one of the many moored crafts.
“Would you like to? We could probably hire someone to take us out, or join a tourist thing….”
Remy shook his head. “I don’t think I want to go boating.” His eyes sparkled with mischievous suggestion. “I don’t want to share you this time.”
“Oh.” Ash stuffed his hands awkwardly into his pockets.
Their pathway seemed to be converging with a more commercial area, with cars and roads.
“Maybe time to turn around?”
Ash agreed.
The Empress, Ash thought when it came into view, was stunning at night. Many of the buildings on the harbor were lit, but the Empress stood dramatic against the darkening sky and somehow managed to look more old-fashioned, grand, and romantic, despite shining with modern lights.
“Ohh,” Remy sighed.
“It’s lovely,” Ash whispered.
“Very.”
Ash turned from the Empress to a no-less-beautiful view of Remy, the lights shining off his green eyes and playing against his skin. No, Remy wasn’t just as beautiful, but more so. For one wild moment, Ash thought he should definitely kiss him, right here, right now.
Remy turned to him and inhaled sharply. “Ash,” he murmured.
Their gazes caught, and Ash couldnae look away. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, he should say.
Remy seemed not to have any such doubts. “It’s so romantic here. Everything—the hotel, the walk.” He turned to look at the Empress once again. “This weekend is so perfect. I can’t believe anyone would—did do this for me.” He kept his voice low, not that anyone was close enough to overhear.
Ash’s palms sweated and his heart pounded and he ached to take Remy into his arms. Once again Remy had spoken his mind and humbled Ash with his bravery. And Ash couldn’t help but respect it, to answer it with courage of his own.
“You’re worth it. You’ll always be worth it.”
And there was the blinding grin back again. Remy took a half step forward, and Ash felt himself leaning in, drawn by new memories of that soft, delicious mouth.
Kissing Remy was addicting. The feel of his mouth beneath his own, the taste, the warmth of his lips closing about Ash’s—
A bell jangled, and they parted as a bike zoomed past them.
“Jerk,” Remy said, but his tone was light and happy.
Ash turned to him, and Remy was still grinning.
“Time to go back to the hotel?”
“Aye,” Ash said embarrassingly quick. But Remy seemed rather gratified by it, so Ash didn’t waste time on embarrassment. Instead he curled his hand around Remy’s, surprised by his boldness, and tugged him in the direction of the hotel.
Ash wondered what Remy expected tonight. They’d kissed several times, but surely he’d want more? They’d not yet talked about things, only snogged like teenagers. Suddenly the hotel room with its one bed seemed very suggestive.
In the lift, Ash took a shaky breath. His skin prickled. He felt all too conscious of Remy next to him, their hands entangled. He clenched his free hand and tried to ignore that awareness and the desire curling in his belly. With Remy vibrating beside him, he felt right, like he was where he should be.
But what if he was wrong? What if Remy wanted more than he could give? Ash had never—
The lift doors opened.
Once in the room, they stared at each other for a long moment. Ash wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He wiped trembling hands on his jeans. What should he do? Would they…. What if he was bad at it?
Fortunately Remy didn’t lack confidence. He stepped forward and placed his left hand on Ash’s chest and settled his right on his cheek. He stroked a thumb across Ash’s cheekbone, sending shivers through him.
Ash curled his hands around Remy’s hips and brushed his own thumbs along the harsh ridge of them, thrilling at being able to touch. Remy was solid. Ash squeezed to feel the strong bone under his fingers.
Remy lifted and kissed him, sliding his wet mouth against Ash’s.
Panting, Ash tightened his hold on Remy’s hips and pressed back, enjoying the newly familiar touch.
Remy snaked his left arm around Ash’s neck, and Ash wrapped his round Remy and pressed it to the small of his back.
Remy hummed, soft and eager, slipped his tongue out, and ran it along Ash’s lower lip.
Ash gasped and then groaned when Remy slid his tongue in. Ash clutched him, tangling his fingers in the cotton of his shirt.
He felt hot. His skin tingled and burned under Remy’s touch. Remy rubbed his thumb over Ash’s cheekbone again, and a shiver ran down his spine.
He pulled back. “Remy.”
Remy shivered in his arms and then purred softly, “Ash, fuck. So good.” He bumped their noses together again.
Ash let out a shaky breath. “Yeah?”
“So good.” Remy smiled. He licked his lips and then asked, “Wanna go make out on the couch?”
“Aye,” Ash breathed out shakily. Memories of other evenings pressed together left him hot and panting.
Remy tangled their fingers and stepped back. Then he pulled Ash across the living room to the sofa.
Ash swallowed hard. He was nervous, excited… afraid.
What if Remy expected….
He couldn’t not tell, surely. Maybe he should have confessed two weeks ago.
“I’ve—” He swallowed. Remy watched him with kind eyes, steady, patient, and took Ash’s trembling hands in his own. “I’ve no’ slept with someone as me.” He swallowed and then whispered, “Never with a bloke.”
Remy blinked. “Oh. Well, there’s no rush. And I’m more than happy to be your first.” Remy smiled and placed his hands flat on Ash’s chest, gently pushed him back so he sat, then stretched out on the sofa with his shoulders and head on an armrest.
Remy swung a leg over—literally—kneeled on the cushions, and hovered for a long moment. They’d not done this before, one on top of the other. Slowly Remy leaned forward and brushed their mouths together in a long, slow tease of catching, dragging lips, which sent heat rushing through Ash and tingled in his fingertips and toes.
Shaking, Ash wrapped his hands around Remy’s hips once again, needing to hold on to something or else he might float away. Or maybe tremble into a million pieces. His mind rushed with a thousand thoughts—Remy wanted to have sex with him, and he was going to sleep with a man, with Remy—and yet it seemed totally incapable of processing anything as Remy parted his lips and pressed himself closer.
He shifted and lay down on top of Ash, their legs tangled together, their chests pressed tight. He threaded his fingers in Ash’s hair, and Ash ran his hands up and down Remy’s back. He was so solid and warm, and his body weighing Ash down sent a thrill of delight up his spine. He couldn’t deny Remy was there, real, and in his arms.
Remy scratched his nails over Ash’s scalp, and Ash gasped. Too much. He reached up and took Remy’s hands in his, a silent request for no more. Remy murmured nonsense into his lips, then pressed their hands down onto the couch and squeezed, a silent I hear you.
Time slipped away as they touched and explored, but when Remy sneaked his hands toward Ash’s belt, he stiffened. His brain screeched to a halt.
Remy pulled back, slid his hands up to Ash’s chest, and whispered, “We should probably go to sleep.”
“Probably,” Ash agreed, near choked by gratitude, and tightened his arms.
Remy laughed, kissed him again, then pulled back. “Come on. Let’s go cuddle in the bed.”
Once up, they brushed their teeth, changed into pajamas—in separate rooms—and then curled up together under the comforter, limbs entwined. They weren’t using much of the king-sized bed.
They snogged again.
“This is good. Perfect,” Remy said softly.
Ash hummed his agreement and pressed a soft kiss to Remy’s nose.
It didn’t take long for them to drift to sleep, still curled up together, sharing space, their fingers intertwined.