CURLED on his side and cramped on the edge of the mattress, Ash woke up and stared at Remy splayed out on his back, his legs akimbo. His right arm was reached toward Ash, and his left flung over his head. Ash studied him.
With the early morning light casting shadows and making the sweep of his lashes appear longer, Remy looked angelic, sweet, nothing like the violent danger he embodied while they slept. Ash had woken suddenly in the middle of the night after Remy struck him in the face. Ruefully, he rubbed a hand over his cheek and wondered if Remy would always be a danger to sleep with. Giddiness bubbled in him. He should soon find out firsthand.
Ash had acted the morning after a time or two on-screen, but had never lived it. The one time he slept with a woman had been about “having fun” at uni—or trying to—not romance, and they’d awkwardly parted ways before they fell asleep.
Waking up with Remy was nothing like TV. For one, Remy didn’t wake up shortly after, catch Ash staring, and smile. Instead, Ash got out of bed, brushed his teeth, called for breakfast, and after a long moment’s deliberation, settled on the couch with his book. He was still there when room service arrived.
It was possible he’d gone a wee bit overboard. But not knowing what Remy might want, he ordered some of everything—waffles with fruit, banana-bread french toast, a garden-veggie omelet, a simpler eggs-and-bacon dish, as well as muffins and croissants, and coffee, tea, and juice.
Definitely overboard.
Figuring leftovers never hurt anyone, Ash shrugged and considered the next issue—if Remy didn’t wake soon, breakfast would go cold.
He chewed on his lip and was still considering the issue when Remy stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing at his hair, flannel trousers slung temptingly low on his hips.
“Morning,” Remy said around a yawn. “Do I smell bacon? And coffee?” He blinked at Ash, kissed his cheek, then noticed the breakfast. “Oh, you sweet man, you. You’re perfect.” He pressed a lingering kiss to Ash’s mouth, dragging his lips and swiping at Ash’s with his tongue. Then he pulled back and snagged a piece of bacon, leaving Ash hot and bothered in his wake. He took a bite and then stuffed the end into his mouth to hold it as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He ate the rest of the bacon and doctored the cup, then sat down and cradled it to him.
Bemused, Ash settled across from him and poured some tea.
“I used to hate coffee,” Remy said after a couple of minutes of silence. Ash looked up from his waffle. “Hmm, very proud of not liking it too. I couldn’t bear it without plenty of cream and sugar, much too bitter.” He sighed. “Then I went to grad school and got hopelessly addicted.” He yawned, scratched his nose, and then seemed to take in the spread at last. He stared at it for a moment, blinking, then shook himself. He observed the contents with narrowed eyes, a general surveying the battlefield. Then he reached for the french toast and placed a slice on an empty plate. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Ash shrugged. “No problem.” He’d been prepared to feel awkward. Leave it to Remy to know what to do.
Remy took a couple of bites, drank more of his coffee, and at last seemed to wake up. “Oh man. Sorry. I’m kind of useless in the morning.” He cocked his head. “How are you? Did you sleep okay? And thanks for all this. It’s amazing, and I would have been way too useless to order any of it.” He smiled, the soft one Ash was fast becoming addicted to.
Uncomfortable with the gratitude, Ash said, “I slept alright.” Then, eyeing Remy from beneath his lashes, he added slyly, “Well, except for the attack.”
Eyes narrowed, Remy asked, “Attack?”
Ash nodded. “Aye. In the wee hours. Me, I was having a good dream when someone decided to wallop me in the face.” He smiled to show he was uninjured.
“Well,” Remy said, gaze still shrewd, “maybe you deserved it.”
“While I was sleeping?”
“Hmm. You said you were having a good dream. Maybe someone was trying to ward off your amorous advances?”
Ash snorted. Amorous? “If I had any, I doubt anyone here would object to them.” He gave a defiant stare, which Remy met, eyes still slitted.
The contest lasted for half a minute before Remy broke. He chuckled and said, “Oh man, you’re probably right. Probably would have sleepwalked my way through the make out.” His gaze turned searching as he swept it over Ash’s face. “Did I really hit you in the face?”
Ash shrugged. “Aye. No’ very hard, though. I survived.” He took a sip of juice. He meant to leave it there but suddenly felt compelled to blurt out apologetically, “But I might have escaped to the other end of the bed.”
Remy laughed, sounding relieved. “Oh, good!” He shook his head. “I’ve been told I’m terrible to sleep with. I once literally kicked my first boyfriend out of bed.” He grinned sheepishly, and the knotted tension Ash hadn’t known was building began to loosen.
“Really?”
“Yeah. We were in the dorms, small beds. Poor guy. He cursed me out—in two languages, no less, French and English. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper, but that woke me up. Well, him and his roommate, who also felt the need to swear at me.” Remy grinned, looking unrepentant.
“So, you’re saying I should be grateful the bed was too large for you to throw me out of it?”
“Yes, definitely.” Remy’s eyes danced. Ash looked back, as helpless as ever to resist. For a long moment, they smiled stupidly at each other over their breakfast, and Ash felt entirely content, not embarrassed at all.
THEY spent the rest of the day playing tourist. They went to Hatley, of course, to visit the castle, because “X-Men and Smallville, Ash,” and Remy bought a key chain, grinning like a nutter the whole time.
They paid the entrance fee and wandered the gardens. When they found themselves out of view of the castle and of any other tourists, Remy reached out and tangled their fingers together. He laughed and smiled and, more ridiculously, lifted Ash’s hand so he could kiss his fingers.
Foolishly, Ash let him. It didn’t feel like anyone was watching here. It felt safe to be daft and affectionate, to let Remy hold his hand and snog him. Ash leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the apple of Remy’s cheek to watch the way he went pink and giggled.
At the pond, they crossed a bridge and found themselves so sheltered by trees and felt so alone that they couldn’t help but come together for a long, passionate snog. Remy curled his fingers in Ash’s hair, and Ash wrapped his hands around Remy’s ribs.
“I’ve been longing to do that all day. Why didn’t I when we were still at the hotel?”
“Because we never would have left”—Ash’s heart thumped wildly against his ribs to say those words—“and you had to see the castle. Just had to,” Ash murmured.
Remy chuckled, low and intimate. “Definitely wouldn’t have left the room.” He gave what Ash could only describe as bedroom eyes, lids low, and Ash shivered with pleasure and a sense of naughtiness—to be doing this in public, to do it at all. He gripped Remy tighter.
They wandered about the grounds so slowly it was well past noon by the time they returned to the main house and tried the café. After their plates were cleaned, Remy stubbornly insisted on paying the bill.
“Eating here was my idea,” Ash pointed out reasonably.
“Yes, but you’re covering everything this weekend. Let me at least pay for this?”
Ash didn’t want to relent but conceded the argument when Remy handed his card over faster.
They headed back toward the hotel and wandered the harbor district in daylight, popping into shops and laughing like giddy children in store aisles. Over and over, Ash caught himself watching Remy. He wondered if Remy knew he glowed.
They had dinner in the hotel restaurant, tucked into a corner, candles on the table, their toes bumping together under cover of the cloth. Ash had never played footsie before.
And he definitely never had someone run the tops of their toes up and down his calf while they grinned at him over dishes of risotto and seafood.
“You’ve really never done this?”
Ash shook his head. “No. Never wanted to with anyone else.”
“Aw, you sweet-talker, you.” Remy winked, but it didnae disguise the rising heat in his gaze. “Now, please tell me we’re not having dessert, because I would very much like to go back to our room so I can kiss you a lot.”
So they did.
They snogged until their lips were bruised, Remy’s cheeks pink from Ash’s beard, and their shirts missing, until they were pressed tightly together, and Ash surprised them both by coming in his jeans, trembling and gasping and apologizing while Remy ran gentling hands over him.
Then, after Ash calmed down, Remy opened his trousers and undulated over him, rubbing his briefs-covered dick into Ash’s hip until he too came, babbling Ash’s name.
THEY stayed in bed Sunday morning. Ash ordered them more room service, then took the trays back to bed. They lounged together under the sheets, sipping coffee and tea and feeding each other fruit, cheese, and pastry between kisses.
Ash pulled up TripAdvisor on his phone, looking for something touristy to do, but Remy grabbed it and chucked it onto the nightstand.
“I’d rather stay right here,” he murmured.
“But,” Ash said, trying to pull away from Remy’s lips and finding he had a severe lack of willpower, “don’t you want to see more stuff while you’re here?”
“I can come back,” Remy said, somewhat savagely.
He pushed Ash onto his back and straddled his hips. Ash was rapidly learning how much he liked it—having Remy over him, his weight across his hips, letting Remy guide him through.
“But you’re here now,” he pointed out, not really protesting anymore. If Remy wanted to stay in bed until checkout, who was he to argue?
“Who cares?” Remy asked and kissed him before he could say more.
Several long, snog-filled moments later, they were forced apart in order to silence the obnoxious trilling of Ash’s phone. He caught sight of the time and groaned.
“Checkout in half an hour.”
Remy sighed regretfully, stood, and headed straight for the shower.
They rushed to get all their things into their bags, laughing as they threw items across the room to get them to their rightful owner.
“We have a few hours before we catch the bus to the ferry,” Ash mentioned as they rode the lift down.
“Walk around the neighborhood?”
“Whatever you want.”
Remy lunged forward to press a quick kiss to Ash’s lips, but he pulled back in time for the doors to open. Ash shook his head and led the way to the lobby desk.
As they stood in the queue, Remy spotted his friends from the first day and said, “I’m gonna say goodbye,” and left Ash alone. A fact for which he was grateful when he was presented with a bill well over two thousand dollars. Last-minute rooms were never cheap, he thought ruefully and vowed never to tell Remy.
That afternoon, as they settled on the bus for the ferry, he felt as though they were leaving a bubble, like they’d been living in a state unconnected to the real world. Like an island? he thought sarcastically and pushed away his maudlin thoughts.
Remy was warm and next to him, pressing their knees subtly together and asking Ash about the view out the window. The weekend had been amazing, yes, but that wouldn’t stop or disappear when they got to Vancouver. They would still be dating, and life wisnae going to fall apart because they took a boat.
Ash pressed back, enjoying the weight, and focused on Remy’s rambles about the clouds.
Vancouver could wait until they got there.