That night, Pete slept the perfect, deep sleep of the truly satiated. When he woke up, there was no moment of disorientation. He blinked against the sunlight pouring through the window and knew exactly where he was: he was with Evan. Even if he hadn’t known that, the limbs sandwiched between his and the smell of sweat and soap would have been enough to remind him.
Pete stretched, careful not to move too much. His joints popped, and his muscles burned. He felt pleasantly sore and utterly refreshed.
Evan stirred next to him, roused by Pete’s movements, or as if he’d somehow heard his thoughts. One of his eyes cracked open. Pete had seen Evan during the day plenty of times, but never this close and in such ideal light. The morning sunlight hit his face at just the right slant, confirming something Pete had long suspected. His eyes were such a deep brown they were just a few shades lighter than his pupil. They were beautiful.
Evan’s mouth twitched up. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“Sorry.” A few weeks ago, Pete probably would have been embarrassed, but now, all he could do was smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Evan kissed his forehead. “How’d you sleep?”
Pete stretched again, toes spilling over the end of the mattress. “You have to ask? I don’t think I moved all night.”
“Good point. If you had, I would have felt it.” Evan snuggled up to his chest and breathed deeply.
Pete squirmed. “That tickles.”
“Good.”
They lay there for a moment in sleepy, sunny serenity before Evan shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. “Want some breakfast?”
“Not just yet. I want to stay in bed.”
Evan grinned. “Well, if that’s what’s on your mind—”
Pete pushed him away, laughing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“All right.” Evan settled back down. “Talk to me.”
“Um . . . how ’bout that local sports team?”
“I hear they won the World Bowl Cup,” Evan teased.
“All right, fine. What do you want to talk about?”
“You. Tell me about yourself.”
Pete considered him. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. How’d you get into porn? Where’d you grow up? What’s your family like?”
“Easy enough. I was born and raised in the city. Never lived anywhere else. My parents are divorced, so it’s just my mom and me. Feel free to make the obvious ‘daddy issues’ jokes.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s not your fault he skipped out.”
“As for porn, it just sort of happened to me.” He shrugged. “I wanted to help my mom with bills, you know? Pay my own way.”
Evan gave him a squeeze. “Very responsible.”
“I started out modeling—all wholesome, catalog stuff—but then someone told me how much money I could make doing nude work. I resisted, at first, but models are a dime a dozen in LA, and eventually the job well dried up. One day, someone handed me Colette’s business card, and the rest is history.”
“She recruited you into porn?
“No, actually. She started me off in phone sex. But I wasn’t any good at it, and I wasn’t making any money. Eventually, I decided to try out other avenues.”
“Why’d you pick porn? You could have done cam work or nude modeling, like you said.”
“I dunno, I guess I liked the idea of porn. You know, getting paid to have amazing, impossible sex. Getting to hang out on set with beautiful people. Having hundreds of fans who adore you and want you. It’s . . . beguiling.”
“I bet you have a lot of fans.”
“Uh, no.” Pete laughed. “I had a bit of a following when I first started, but it fizzled out. I didn’t put much effort into it.”
“Well, rest assured, you have a big fan right here.”
Pete slid his fingers into Evan’s messy hair, playing with it. “What about you? How’d you break into the biz? Colette gave me the impression you’re kind of a big deal.”
“Not yet, but I could be, given enough time.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
He grinned. “Two months.”
Pete blinked incredulously. “But that would mean . . .”
“I was still pretty green when I signed up for Heat Wave, yeah. I only had a dozen or so gigs under my belt.”
Holy shit. He’d known Evan was new—Colette had called him a “rising star” after all—but he hadn’t thought he was that new. Evan was a natural. He’d walked onto set like he was meant to be there, whereas Pete still stumbled half the time.
Pete worried his bottom lip. “There’s something I want to ask, but I don’t want to be invasive.”
“Pete, we just had sex. It doesn’t get more invasive than that.”
“True. Is porn your only job? I haven’t heard you mention another one or school or anything.
“It is, but I spend most of my time building my brand. Marketing. Networking. Interacting with fans on social media.”
“That makes sense. Your Facebook was inundated with posts. Are you working on any other projects besides Heat Wave? You must be, since we only film once a week.”
Evan looked at him askance. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”
Pete nodded. “I’m not the jealous type, despite my many anxieties. Porn is a job. You have to work, same as me.”
“So, just to clarify, now that we’ve slept together, you’re not gonna ask me to quit?”
Pete glared at him. “That would be really hypocritical of me, wouldn’t you say? I certainly don’t intend to quit.”
Evan held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just making sure. I’ve heard horror stories from people who said their significant others expected them to quit once things got serious, as if you’d do that with any other job. But just so you know, I haven’t taken on any new gigs since Heat Wave. My decision to cross over to gay porn left me in sort of a weird standing in the community. I need to build my reputation back up, and I think Colette’s film is going to be a big help.”
“Why did you cross over, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Because I’m gay,” Evan said matter-of-factly. “I only did straight porn because I thought it would be the best way to get my name out there, but the money in gay porn is so much better, and it’s more of a niche market. I decided to focus on cultivating a smaller but more dedicated fan base.”
Pete regarded him, impressed. “I gotta admit, when I heard you were a crossover, I assumed you were at least bi. Was it hard having sex with women?”
Evan shrugged. “Straight guys do gay porn all the time. And how many of the women in Lesbian Orgy VII: the Reckoning do you think are actual lesbians? You’re in porn; you should know this.”
“I guess I’m not as involved as you are. I never would have thought you were so new. You sound like you really know the industry.”
“Yeah. Remember when you said you found my Facebook?”
Pete nodded.
“Well, if you were to google me now, you’d find a lot more than that. Blogs and interviews and social media accounts. You name it. I could probably write a dissertation on porn at this point.”
The passion in Evan’s voice was mesmerizing. Just listening to him talk about it was enough to make Pete excited about his job. “If there were ever anyone who was born to be in porn, it’s you.”
“Funny you should say that.” Evan nuzzled his cheek. “I got into porn because of my family.”
“Oh?”
“I’m the youngest of five,” Evan said innocently. “I had to distinguish myself somehow.”
A surprised bark of laughter burst from Pete. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.
“What was that?” Evan asked, giggling. Within seconds they were shaking together. Pete fell weakly onto Evan’s chest and ended up resting his head there. Evan breathed laughter into his hair and kissed his brow.
When Pete could speak again, he said, “That’s one way to stand out. You went straight from school to porn?”
“Not quite. I started out as a stripper and then graduated into porn. It was a natural progression for me.”
Pete’s brain stopped at stripper and supplied him with a vivid image of a shirtless Evan working a pole. Gulp.
Evan nudged him, smirking. “Still with us?”
“Sorry, I’m back now. How’d your parents react to the news?”
“It’s not like I told them over Thanksgiving dinner or whatever. My parents weren’t thrilled, but they knew I was going to do what I wanted.”
“Hmm, all right, then. Next question: what’s with all the comic book stuff?” He waved at Evan’s room.
“What, you were never into superheroes?”
“Yeah, but mostly when I was younger.”
“I guess I didn’t grow out of it.” He shrugged, which made Pete’s body rise and fall with the motion. “I dunno. I always liked the idea of heroes and villains. Especially ones like Catwoman who sort of walk both lines. I said I was a sucker for a good villain, but I like good guys who play bad even more.”
“That makes sense. We play with moral boundaries every day we go to work, right?”
“I actually don’t think we do,” Evan said. “If people wanna judge us and call us immoral for being in porn, that’s on them. We wouldn’t be able to produce it if it weren’t in demand, right? So, if people want to shame porn stars, they should really shame the people who keep us in business.”
Pete chewed on his lip. “That’s not how it works, though. Not in reality.”
“It should be. Then we wouldn’t have to hide behind fake names.”
He peeked at Evan. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no. I kinda like the idea of having a sexy secret identity, but I wish there weren’t a need for it. I tried to stick as close to the truth as possible by using my real last name.” He kissed the top of Pete’s head. “And of course, when I realized I had feelings for you, I told you my name right away. I wanted you to know the real me.”
Pete opened his mouth to stammer something sweet back, but then he stopped. “Wait . . . you told me your name right after we filmed the teaser. We’d met twice at that point.”
Evan’s eyes had gotten comically wide, and for once, Pete could read him like a book. His expression said it all: he hadn’t meant to reveal that.
“Evan are you telling me you’ve had feelings for me since—”
“Oh wow,” Evan exclaimed, “I just realized I am starving. How about I make you that breakfast I mentioned earlier?”
Pete gave him a sour look. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Obviously so, yes. Ready for food?”
He sighed. If Evan didn’t want to talk about it, there was no forcing him. “There’s one last thing I’m curious about.”
“Shoot.”
“Most people I know are in porn as a means to an end, but the way you talk makes it sound like you’re doing it because you . . . I dunno, like it. You get what I mean?”
“Yup,” Evan said. “And you’re right, I enjoy my work. I mean, having sex for a living is the dream for some people, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You like the industry itself. The business side of it.”
He chuckled. “Very astute.”
“So, you don’t have any plans to quit? Get a ‘regular’ job, or whatever it is the squares call it?”
“I actually want to be a director someday.”
“Like Colette?”
“Yup, she’s my idol. The dream is to one day have my own company, just like her. The way I see it, it’s one of the most stable industries you can work in: it’s been around forever, it’s not going anywhere, and as long as there are horny people in the world, there will always be demand.”
Pete moved his mouth into a thoughtful moue. “I have to say, I’ve never thought of it like that before.”
“Most people don’t, even fellow sex workers like us. That’s why I’m hoping I’m gonna go far.” He nuzzled his chin. “If we keep talking about porn and horny people, I’m going to want a round two.”
“Oh no,” Pete deadpanned. “That would be horrible.”
Evan kissed him. “Don’t tempt me.” He stretched and threw his arms around Pete. “What are your plans for today? Maybe we can go get breakfast.”
Pete was momentarily distracted by his biceps but managed to answer. “What’s today again?”
“Sunday.”
“Sunday,” Pete repeated. A second passed, and then he shot up in bed. “What time is it?”
Evan looked over Pete’s shoulder at the nightstand. “Nine.”
“Shit. I have to get home.” He jumped to his feet and hunted for his scattered clothes.
Evan sat up, and the sheet they’d slept under slid down his chest to pool at his waist. Pete allowed himself a moment to salivate before hastily pulling on his clothing.
Evan swept his dark hair out of his eyes. “Got a hot date or something?”
“I go to church with my mom every Sunday.” Pete’s foot got caught in his jeans, and he had to pause to right it. “It starts in about an hour. No doubt, she’s already awake and wondering where I am. I didn’t tell her I was leaving last night.” He looked around for his shoes, only to remember he’d taken them off in the other room.
The moment he opened the bedroom door, Scout and Sentry nosed their way in. Pete quickly retrieved his shoes, the tabbies’ green eyes on him the whole time. Their names were starting to make sense to him. As soon as he returned, they made a beeline for the bed and hopped up with Evan, rubbing against him.
Evan petted them with both hands, but his eyes were on Pete. “You’re religious?”
“Yeah, but I’m not an asshole about it, I swear.” Pete sat down on the floor to pull on his socks, grateful for a reason to not look at him as he asked, “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. It’s more of a curiosity, for reasons I don’t think I need to explain.”
Pete laughed, climbing to his feet. “You’d be surprised. Sex workers have a prominent place in the Bible.”
“I actually suspected you were religious,” Evan said slowly, almost reluctantly.
Pete looked at him. “Why’s that?”
“Well, you more or less called porn immoral a second ago. That’s not an attitude I expected from someone who’s been doing this for a while. And you’re kinda conservative at times, like when you said you thought we were doing this backward, as if lots of people don’t have sex before they date these days. Plus, you said you’d never come out to your family, which makes me think you’re ashamed of what you do. Religion and shame sometimes go hand in hand, right?” He laughed, but it sounded forced.
Pete was quiet for a long moment, absorbing what Evan had said. When he spoke, he directed his words at the floor. “This whole me-not-coming-out thing. Is that going to be a point of contention between us?”
He saw Evan’s head jerk up out of his peripheral vision. “Huh?”
“This is the fourth time you’ve brought it up. Seems like it really bothers you that I don’t want to tell my mom I fuck guys on camera for a living.”
“It bothered me at first, but I’m over it now.”
“Are you sure? Because I hate confrontation, and if you don’t tell me something’s wrong, I’m not going to wrestle it out of you. I want everything to be okay.”
“It is okay,” Evan said, “for now. I don’t know if it will be years from now, but that’s a problem for Future Us, wouldn’t you say?”
Pete hesitated. That was so not a resolution, but he couldn’t have this conversation with Evan right now regardless. “Okay, but promise me if you start to be not okay, you’ll tell me immediately.”
“I promise.”
Pete walked over and kneeled on the bed. He leaned on his hands, one on either side of Evan’s hips, which brought their faces close together. He lingered there, soaking up the simple joy of being near him. “I had such a good time last night. And this morning. I’m gonna miss you.”
Evan kissed him. It was soft and sweet, but Pete could feel his disappointment in the shape of his mouth. “You definitely have to go?”
Sentry rubbed against his arm as if entreating him. “Yeah, I’m sorry. My mom is probably worried. I shouldn’t have left without leaving a note or texting her or something. Besides—” he kissed him again “—with all the sinning we did, I need church now more than ever.”
Evan snorted. “Okay. Want me to show you out?”
“Nah, if you move that sheet, I’m not going to be able to leave.”
“All the more reason, then.”
Evan started to get up, but Pete pushed him back, laughing. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.” Evan settled against the pillows. “Don’t worry about locking the door behind you. I’ll get up and do it in a minute.”
“All right. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Pete exited the apartment and made his way to the parking lot where his car was waiting for him. The whole ride back to his house, he couldn’t stop smiling. By the time he pulled into the driveway, his cheeks hurt.
The thought of confronting Mom, however, diminished his mirth. He didn’t have any texts or missed calls from her, but there was no way she’d missed his absence. He could only pray she hadn’t discovered his empty bed until the morning. If she’d been up all night worrying, he would never forgive himself.
You’re an asshole, he thought as he opened the front door. If you come out of this alive, you are taking your mother to dinner. He looked around, not sure what to expect.
To his surprise, Mom was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and a slice of burned toast. She’d pinned her hair up with pearl-studded clasps and was wearing a modest powder-blue dress. She had a magazine open in front of her, one of the cooking ones that she always swore would inspire her to become a master chef. There was nothing to suggest there was anything unusual about this Sunday.
“Morning,” she said without looking up.
He stared at her for a moment before parroting, “Morning.” He tossed his keys and wallet onto the counter on his way into the kitchen. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he poured himself a cup of coffee, but she didn’t look at him.
He sat down at the table next to her. She didn’t so much as twitch. Oh God, she must be really pissed off.
“Sorry I left without saying good-bye last night.” Better to get this over with. “You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“No need to apologize.” She finally looked up. Instead of seeming angry, she was smiling. There was a knowing sparkle in her brown eyes. “Did you get that good-night kiss after all?”
He looked down at his feet and nodded. “How did you—”
“A mother has her ways. Go get dressed and meet me down here. We need to leave in ten minutes. You know how Pastor Beauchamp hates it when we’re late.”
And with that, she turned her attention back to her magazine, flipping one of its glossy pages.
Pete scurried away. It was a miracle she’d let him off that easily, and he didn’t want to do anything to change her mind. They attended what Pete imagined was a lovely service, but in truth, he didn’t hear a word of it. He was hyperaware of his phone in the front pocket of his khakis. He desperately wanted to text Evan, but if he so much as touched his phone during church, Mom would in no way exemplify the Christian ideals of forgiveness.
When they returned home, he raced up to his room under the pretense of changing out of his nice clothes. In truth, he planned to call Evan as soon as he’d finished.
Just as he pulled off his shirt, his phone buzzed. He bent over and snatched it out of his front pocket while his arms were still in the shirt holes, which led to quite a bit of cumbersome flailing.
He forced himself to finish removing his shirt before checking his notifications. Evan had texted him.
How was your morning?
He smiled and tapped out a reply. Great. Yours?
Terrible. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.
Pete’s chest filled with a warm, light feeling. It felt like a strong breeze was all it would take to lift him right off the earth. I’ve been thinking about you too. He hesitated and then wrote, I miss you.
Evan’s reply was instantaneous. Come over?
Pete’s heart soared only to plummet back to the ground. I can’t. I have to work later to make up for taking yesterday off.
He waited for a reply. None came.
A week ago, that would have freaked Pete out, but after the night they’d just spent together, he was positive Evan wasn’t upset. Maybe disappointed, but not with Pete. With their situation. The same goofy grin from earlier came back to reclaim his face. He should have gotten to know Evan sooner. He’d spent weeks fretting for no reason.
Much as he wanted to linger on the thought of him, he had homework and studying to do before his shift. He spent the next few hours poring over his Programming Logic textbook and taking careful notes. By the time he left for work, he’d more or less forgotten his unanswered text to Evan.
When he walked into the Globe just after two in the afternoon, he was surprised to see the shop was empty. Sunday afternoons were seldom busy, but he could generally count on a handful of people to make the hours pass. He peered out the storefront windows, checking the weather. Thick, dark clouds blotted out a sky the color of sheet metal. Sometimes rain drove people in; sometimes it convinced them to stay in their warm homes. Today, it must have been the latter.
The shop seemed even emptier without Sana behind the counter. She’d normally give him a luminous greeting before ordering him to do something. Even that would have been welcome, because then he’d have something to do. Instead, Joshua perched in her customary place. He spotted Pete and did a horrible imitation of Sana in a high-pitched voice. “Why, hello, Pete. It’s just us today.”
“Once more unto the breach,” Pete muttered to himself. He retrieved his apron from the back room, put it on, and busied himself washing mugs in the hopes that Joshua would take the hint and leave him alone.
He had no such luck.
Within seconds, something knocked his elbow. “Hey, flamer. Don’t ignore me.”
At least he was back to his usual voice. Though Pete was going to enjoy relaying his impression to Sana later. She was going to have kittens.
“For the last time,” Pete stated evenly, “don’t call me that.”
“Ooh, that was downright assertive. Where’d this sudden burst of confidence come from? Your hot boyfriend?”
Pete started to say something acerbic but stopped short. Was Evan his boyfriend? His better judgment told him that one date and a steamy night together did not a boyfriend make. But maybe they were heading in that direction? An excited laugh bubbled up in his throat. He had to fight to keep it down.
A second later, he realized Joshua was staring at him.
“Um, he’s not my boyfriend,” he said in a monotone.
“Really? Then why do you have that dopey look on your face?”
“I do not. This is none of your business.”
Joshua snickered. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“That’s not how the quote goes,” he snapped, abandoning the mug he was washing.
“Right, because you’re an expert in Charles Dickens.”
“That was Shakespeare!”
Joshua had just opened his mouth, ostensibly to deliver a hot retort, when the bell above the front door rang.
Both of their heads swiveled in the direction of the sound.
Pete gasped, heart leaping into his throat.
Evan strolled through the door, looking like sex on legs in red jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. He’d pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, and his tattoos peeked out beneath the cuffs.
Evan’s eyes swept over the mostly empty room before landing on Pete. He flashed his trademark impish smile. “Surprise.”
Pete’s breathing hitched. Well, now he knew why Evan hadn’t responded to his text.
“Hi,” he said, for lack of anything more articulate.
“Speak of the devil.” Joshua clapped his hands together. “We were just talking about you.”
“All terrible things, I hope,” Evan said, though his eyes never left Pete’s face. “Happy to see me?”
Pete stared back wordlessly. He didn’t have the necessary vocabulary to describe how happy he was. God, just being near him again was enough to excite him. He cleared his throat and willed himself to keep it together. “Of course.”
Joshua looked between them, falling curiously silent. Pete finally tore his gaze away from Evan long enough to quirk a brow at him. If Joshua missed an opportunity to make a snide remark, it was cause for alarm.
A frown was weighing down the corners of Joshua’s lips, but he remained silent.
“Something wrong?” Pete asked.
“No,” Joshua answered slowly. “Your boyfriend just looks different in the light, I guess. At the club it was too dark for me to really see him.”
Pete knew better than to ask what that was supposed to mean—it was probably something rude—so he walked around the counter and approached Evan. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m thrilled to see you.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, believe me.” He looked around. “Is this place usually so quiet?”
“No, I think it’s the threat of imminent rain that’s keeping people away.”
“I saw the rainbow flag out front. Is this place cool?” His tone was suspiciously casual.
“Yeah, we’re LGBT-friendly, and just about every other kind of friendly too.”
“Is that so?” Before Pete could react, Evan leaned up and kissed him. Pete turned violently red and looked at Joshua out of the corner of his eye. He was watching them, but instead of leering like Pete expected, his brow was furrowed. It was like he was trying to do long division in his head.
Now Pete was really concerned, almost too concerned to enjoy the kiss. Almost.
Evan pulled away and brushed a thumb over his cheek. “Want to give me a tour?”
“It’ll have to wait for my break. There’s a lot that needs to be done, and I just got here.”
“Go ahead,” Joshua said. “It’s dead anyway.”
Had Pete been a more expressive person, his mouth would have popped open. Joshua never let someone else go on break if he could go first. Pete hastened to take him up on the offer before he changed his mind.
“Follow me, sir,” he said to Evan with a flourish of his arm. “We begin our tour in the Field of Squishy Armchairs.”
He led him toward the main room. Before he could take more than a few steps, Evan sidled up to him, a sly grin plastered on his face. “Did I hear him call me your boyfriend?”
Pete nearly tripped over his own feet. He sputtered, “Uh. I didn’t— He doesn’t— That is to say—”
Evan covered his mouth to smother his laughter.
Pete huffed. “You’re so mean.”
“I tease because I care.” He laced their fingers together.
Pete scanned the room. There was one customer hunched over a laptop at a corner table—so focused on his laptop, Pete had to wonder if it had winning Lotto numbers on the screen or something—but otherwise the Globe was devoid of life.
“As you can see,” Pete intoned, “it’s very exciting here. Positively bustling. From the pretentious abstract art on the walls to the chipped mugs, we’re a real cultural hub. And don’t get me started on the milk station.” He gestured to it. “I could wax poetic about the intricacies of the nutmeg shakers.”
Evan chuckled. “Fascinating. Lead on, tour guide.”
Pete took him behind the counter—which he thought might be illegal, but no one said anything—and headed for the stockroom. That prompted a round of raucous hooting from Joshua that meant he was back to his old self. Pete scowled at him and told him to grow up, but the second the door closed behind them, Evan pinned him against the wall and kissed him breathless. That turned into a furious make-out session that almost convinced Pete he didn’t need this job and should just walk out, taking Evan with him to the nearest bed.
Luckily, Evan pulled away before his hormones could completely circumvent his sense.
“We should stop.” He put some space between them with obvious reluctance.
“I’d hate to give anyone a free show, or get you in trouble.”
“Yeah, good call,” Pete said, masking the tiny pang of disappointment he felt. He took Evan’s hand and led him out of the room, purposefully not looking at him, lest he start blushing again. Joshua was busy helping a customer when they exited, so they were spared any further comment.
Pete looked around. “There’s not much else to see, I’m afraid.”
Evan pointed at a hallway near the entrance. “What’s down there?”
“The bathrooms and a supply closet. Like I said, there isn’t much to see.”
Evan shoved his hands into his pockets and peered up at the ceiling, unwittingly emphasizing his long neck. Pete was overcome by a strange impulse to kiss his Adam’s apple. He only resisted through sheer force of will.
“Do the bathrooms have to be opened with a key?” Evan asked.
“Yeah, but I have one right here.” Pete pulled it out of the pocket of his apron. “You can use it if you need to.”
“Why don’t you show me how? I think I’d benefit from a personal demonstration, and—” his lips curled up suggestively “—it’s a lot more private down there.”
This was a bad idea. Pete understood that perfectly well, but Evan’s smile went straight between his legs, and thanks to their earlier make-out session, he was more than a little horny.
“We shouldn’t,” he protested weakly.
Evan closed a hand around his wrist. “Come on.”
Pete allowed himself to be led toward the hallway. He chanced a look in Joshua’s direction. Blessedly, he was engrossed in making whatever drink the customer had ordered. Judging by the scowl on his face, it was a complicated one. He could never remember more than three ingredients at a time. He’d probably mess up and have to make it again, which would buy them some time.
If Pete were a good person, he would offer to help him.
Pete kept walking.
The blood that should have been powering his brain was trickling downward. They made it to the end of the hallway, which had three doors: the closet Pete had mentioned and two gender-neutral bathrooms. Pete unlocked one with trembling fingers. Evan placed a hand on his, steadying it, and as soon as the lock clicked, he swept them in. He shut the door behind them.
It was pitch-black inside, the only light coming from a thin crack at the base of the door. Pete couldn’t see Evan, but he swore he could feel him, like his energy was crackling around Pete. The sound of his own labored breathing and his pulse thundering in his ears drowned out all other sound, so it came as a complete surprise when Evan pounced.
The first touch of lips was like a spark in the darkness. When Evan cupped Pete’s face and stepped closer, eradicating the space between them, it grew to a flame. Pete hesitated for all of two seconds before he melted into it, kissing back with everything he had. He threw his arms over Evan’s shoulders and pressed against him. He’d been half-hard since the stockroom, and now that they were alone, desire suffused his body.
Evan chuckled against his mouth. He pulled back with a smack of lips. “So eager. Where’s the shy man who wouldn’t have sex with me in a porn studio’s bathroom?”
“Maybe you fucked him out of me last night,” Pete said.
Evan made a low, rumbling sound, and Pete was once more reminded of a cat. “I was just planning to get you off, but if you keep talking like that, you’ll be in for a repeat performance.”
The arousal that surged through Pete was so potent his knees wavered from the force of it. Evan had both hands on his waist. His grip tightened when Pete falter, as if to help support him.
“Promise?” Pete breathed back.
Evan brought their lips together, not kissing, just touching, and mouthed, “You asked for it.”
Pete expected to be kissed, but instead Evan flipped the light on. Pete blinked spots out of his eyes. Before he could recover, Evan shoved him against the sink—which made a worrisome creaking noise—and stepped between his spread legs. The possessiveness of the act sent a shiver up his spine.
Evan brought their faces close but didn’t kiss him. Instead, he slid his arms around his waist and fumbled with something. Drunk as he was with arousal, it took Pete a moment to realize it was his apron tie. Evan unknotted it and slipped it above his head, tossing it aside. Then, he reached for the hem of his shirt.
Pete was just about to object—much as he loved being skin to skin with Evan, he couldn’t very well strip in the bathroom—but Evan didn’t pull his shirt off. He just shoved it up enough to get at his pants. At the feel of Evan’s fingers on his fly, Pete finally realized what they were doing.
“We should get back out there,” he panted. Despite what he’d said to Evan, he was not the guy who had sex in the bathroom at work.
“If that’s what you want, sure,” Evan said. “But I don’t think it is. You’re just saying that because you think you should. You want to be in here with me.” He rubbed Pete through his jeans. Pete almost wasn’t fast enough to stifle the moan that burst out of him. He rocked into the touch, pleasure skittering up his spine. Evan stroked him deftly through the thick material. If he hadn’t been hard before, he certainly was now.
“Evan, we can’t,” Pete squeaked, even as he did nothing to stop him.
“We can. We may have only had sex once, officially, but I know what gets you off. It won’t take more than five minutes, I promise.”
Pete was so keyed up, he had no doubt. The last of his resistance fizzled out with a pathetic spluttering sound.
“Okay,” he relented, “but please be quick.”
Evan’s smile was sinful. “I love it when you say please.”
He sank to his knees, and oh God did that make Pete dizzy. Evan planted a light kiss on the front of his pants, where his dick was straining against the zipper holding it in. Pete gripped the sink behind him so hard his knuckles must be white. He wanted to beg Evan to hurry up, but his hormones threatened mutiny if he did anything to interrupt what was happening. Evan eyed his groin, licking his lips. Then he met Pete’s gaze and mouthed the outline of his cock, hot and damp even through the denim.
Pete was so hard he couldn’t see straight. Oh fuck, he’d thought he needed to worry about getting caught, but it seemed the real danger was coming in his pants. Evan had the button open and the zipper down before Pete could process the movements. Evan dipped his tongue through the opening. It had to be uncomfortable, licking Pete’s dick through his underwear with metal teeth from the zipper in the way, but it looked hopelessly erotic, and Evan didn’t complain. It wasn’t even a direct touch, and Pete felt like he was going to burst.
A second later, Evan withdrew his tongue and rose to his feet. Pete whined, but then Evan spun him around. He used his torso to bend Pete over the sink, guiding Pete’s hands to grip the edges of the porcelain bowl. Then he found Pete’s gaze in the mirror. Pete didn’t need him to speak to understand: he wanted Pete to watch what he did next.
Evan’s hands ghosted down Pete’s sides to where his jeans and underwear were hanging from his hips. He slid them down, taking care to move his boxers in such a way that his erection bobbed up, slapping his stomach. The visual was almost as hot as what they were actually doing. Dating a fellow porn star had some serious perks.
Evan stopped showing off and got serious a moment later. He pushed Pete’s clothing down to his knees, seeming impatient to have it out of the way. Then he kicked the inside of one of Pete’s shoes. It took Pete a moment to understand before he spread his legs as wide as his pants would accommodate.
He heard rather than saw Evan exhale. There was such raw desire in that sound alone, Pete shivered in response. Evan pressed himself against Pete’s back, letting him feel his still-clothed erection, before fumbling with his belt buckle. And, oh fuck, just the clink of metal on metal made Pete’s cock swell. He let his head loll between his shoulders; he hadn’t the strength to support it any longer.
Not being able to easily see behind him added a new layer of sexiness to what they were doing. He had to picture all of Evan’s movements in his head. He heard the click click click of his zipper being pulled down, followed by a rustle of fabric that had to be him shoving his pants out of the way. It was followed by a second of loaded silence. Pete imagined he was maneuvering his dick out of his underwear, too eager to deal with another article of clothing. By the time it was over, Pete’s mouth was watering.
Evan pressed against him again, and his erection, hot and hard, settled between Pete’s ass cheeks. He rocked his hips, breathing heavily. There wasn’t any sort of lube to guide the way, but Pete loved every second of it: the heaviness of him, the closeness, the harsh friction of skin on skin.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, flexing his fingers on the edge of the sink.
Evan slid a hand into his hair and grabbed a fistful, pulling his head back. He licked a wet stripe up his throat. “Don’t forget, you have to be quiet.”
“Oh, fuck you.” It was all Pete could do to hold himself upright.
“Please do.” Evan’s mouth drifted up his neck to the skin behind his ears. He was still thrusting slowly, but his movements were getting more purposeful, more wanting.
Pete gasped, “Condom.”
“Way ahead of you.”
Evan released him and rummaged with something. Pete chanced a peek over his shoulder. What he saw was very close to what he’d imagined: Evan’s jeans and underwear shoved down to the tops of his thighs, his cock jutting straight out of his trimmed hair. He’d just pulled a condom and a packet of lube out of his back pocket.
“You came prepared,” Pete said, not sure if it was an accusation or a compliment.
“I was a Boy Scout.” He winked, ripped open the wrapper, and slid the condom on. Then he opened the lube and coated the fingers on his left hand. Pete turned back around and braced himself. The first swipe of lubed fingers against his hole made him tense—not with pain, but anticipation—but he managed to relax by the time Evan pressed into him.
Pete’s breath caught in his throat. “Fuck, Evan, that feels so good.”
Evan shushed him. “If you can’t keep it down, we’re going to get caught.”
Pete whimpered helplessly. Evan added another finger, and his whimper turned into a whine.
Evan laughed, a hot puff of breath against his damp skin.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just, there was a part of me that thought you’d be quiet in bed. I thought all that moaning you did when we were filming was for the benefit of the camera.” He nipped at his earlobe, making him gasp. “I’m thrilled to discover I was wrong.”
Pete was too frustrated by the slow drag of Evan’s fingers to tease him back. “Hurry up. We’ll get caught anyway if you take too long.”
“You’re so demanding.” It in no way sounded like a complaint. Evan withdrew his fingers, took himself in hand, and nudged the head of his cock against Pete’s entrance. “You want me?”
Pete was gripping the sink so hard, he had to flex his fingers to get the blood flowing again. “You know I do. I always want you.”
Evan pressed against him again, and this time, the head of his cock popped just barely into him. “I know, but I like to hear you say it. How badly do you want me?”
Pete made a strangled sound. “So badly.”
Evan met Pete’s eyes in the mirror. “Then take me.” He slid fully into him in one liquid stroke.
It felt so good, Pete swore he saw God. “Evan, fuck, do that again.”
Evan drew his hips back only to slide home again, rocking them both onto their toes. He didn’t hold back, didn’t slowly work his way in or give Pete time to adjust. Evan just gripped his hips and pushed him up farther on the sink, slamming home, making Pete’s mouth fall open.
Evan pulled back, breathed, and snapped back in, playing with different rhythms and angles. He had a marked talent for finding the right combination to drive Pete wild. After a half dozen thrusts, Evan shifted a little, rocked into him, and sent pleasure crackling along Pete’s nerve endings.
Pete knew it wasn’t possible, but Evan actually felt bigger than he had the night before. Maybe it was the angle or the force with which he was thrusting into Pete, but Pete wanted to claw at the walls, he was so full of Evan’s cock. He didn’t realize how loudly he was moaning until Evan bit the back of his neck, startling him into silence.
“Pete,” Evan murmured, licking the spot in apology, “you have got to be quiet.”
“I can’t,” Pete whined. “You feel so good.”
Evan shuddered and fucked deeply into him, hips to ass, chest to back, skin to skin. “Do you want someone to interrupt us?” His hand found its way to Pete’s leaking cock.
Pete didn’t even register that he’d spoken. The hand stroking him had just become the center of his universe. It was almost too intense. He tried to articulate what he needed, but his tongue slipped around the words, unable to form them.
He managed to focus long enough to find Evan’s reflection in the mirror. “Please.”
Somehow, Evan understood. He clamped a hand over Pete’s mouth. Pete placed one of his on top of it, holding it firmly in place.
Now that Pete’s mouth was covered, Evan slammed hard and deep into him. Pete bit down on his palm; it had to hurt, but Evan didn’t say a word. His face was tortured as he fucked him, brow coated in sweat, eyes half closed, mouth open.
“Fuck, I’m almost . . . I’m so . . .”
Pete whimpered against his hand to indicate that he understood. He pushed back against the sink as Evan’s thrusts grew increasingly forceful. The metal hinges and piping squeaked in protest, but mercifully held. It wouldn’t matter how quiet Pete was if they burst a pipe. Even so, he wasn’t even certain he was capable of caring right now. It felt like Evan was touching every part of him at once, reaching into his core and stoking a fire that was spreading through his veins.
From the look on Evan’s face, he was experiencing something similar. He found Pete’s reflection again and held his gaze. His expression was open and defenseless. He kissed a bead of sweat rolling down Pete’s cheekbone and whispered brokenly, “I don’t know how I’m ever going to get enough of you.”
Pete wasn’t sure when this had shifted from kinky to intimate, but it plucked something deep within him, and suddenly, he was right on the edge. There was a dizzying, fucked-out moment where Pete thought to himself that this was hands down the best sex he’d ever had, and he was having it shoved up against a sink in a coffee shop bathroom.
Evan was stroking him sloppily. If he managed to get a decent rhythm, Pete would come. Or if he hit his prostate in just the right way. Or, honestly, if a light breeze came along. He couldn’t tell Evan this while his hand was covering his mouth, but he didn’t need to. Evan would take care of him, make it good for him. He knew it.
Just then, Evan’s pace faltered. He pulled out of him only to drive back in, making the sink Pete was gripping shudder on its foundation. He repeated the motion, and Pete was thrown a few inches forward from the force of it. Pleasure sizzled up his spine as he was filled to overflowing. He moved his free hand from the sink to the mirror, bracing himself. It rattled in its frame, but he hardly noticed.
“Pete, I’m gonna come,” Evan said through gritted teeth. “Are you . . .?”
It was too late. Evan cursed and thrust home one last time, as deep as he could go, before he stilled. He bit down hard on the junction between Pete’s shoulder and neck, whimpering as he came. The blossom of pain made the pleasure all the more vivid, like a bright, burning star in the night sky.
Watching him pant and whimper through his orgasm did Pete in. A few sloppy pulls on his cock later, and he liquefied. Pete’s orgasm ripped through him, overwhelming him. He bit down on the heel of Evan’s hand in an attempt to stifle the moan that resonated in his chest. Even with the makeshift gag, he was positive someone had to have heard him. Pleasure that explosive and incendiary couldn’t be contained.
Thankfully, his come mostly landed in the sink. If it had gotten on his clothes, he would have been in serious trouble.
Evan recovered faster than he did. He sucked in a breath. “Wow, that was amazing.” He kissed the spot he’d bitten. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Pete made a muffled noise.
“Oh, shit, sorry.” He pulled his hand away from Pete’s mouth, trails of saliva connecting it to Pete’s bruised-red lips.
As they watched the strands snap, he was positive they were both thinking the same thing: If there were a camera around, that would have been a perfect shot.
“I’m fine,” Pete answered. “Better than fine, actually.” He fidgeted. “Though I’d like it if you’d please get out of me now.”
Evan obeyed, pulling gently out and throwing the condom into the toilet with a wet plop.
“Dude, there’s a trash can right there.” Pete sighed. He flushed it. “Inconsiderate customers always throwing all sorts of weird shit in there.” Despite his words, he could feel a smile stretching his face.
Evan chuckled and let his hand fall to his side. Pete snatched it up a second later. “I didn’t break the skin, did I?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” He smirked. “These are some battle scars I can be proud of.”
“Me too.” Pete kissed him.
Evan tucked himself back into his pants. “We should go. If they’re not already missing you, they will soon.”
“You’re right.” Pete scrambled to clean himself up and put his apron back on. He glanced at his reflection. His hair was a mess, his lips were dark, and he had a distinct just-fucked flush that nothing but time could get rid of.
He groaned. “Well, this ought to be fun.”
Evan sidled up behind him and pulled him into a hug. “Was it worth it?”
Pete’s stomach flopped strangely. Not in a bad way, exactly. He just felt sort of . . . light, but also nauseated. He didn’t know how to describe it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Worth it.”
They exited the bathroom with Evan walking a few steps ahead. It wasn’t much, but it was all they could really do to suggest they hadn’t just left together.
When they rounded the corner to the main room, everything was pretty much as they’d left it: empty and quiet, though now Joshua was arguing with a customer about how much cinnamon constituted a “dash.”
Joshua fell silent when they appeared, however. His eyes narrowed as he looked between them. Pete’s face instantly burned. He must’ve heard them, or at least noticed their prolonged absence. He expected Joshua to make some sort of lewd remark, but for once, he didn’t. His eyes did linger on Pete’s neck, however. Fuck. He undoubtedly had a mark that was purpling by the second. He flipped his shirt collar up and tried to look innocent.
Evan touched his elbow. “I gotta get going.”
“Okay.” Pete kissed him.
Evan pulled him in for a deeper kiss that lingered on Pete’s lips long after it ended. Evan turned like he was going to leave, and Pete’s chest twanged strangely.
“Before you go,” he blurted out, “I have a question.”
Evan stopped a foot away. “Shoot.”
“Were you really a Boy Scout?”
“I was. Does that surprise you?”
“No, I’ve come to expect such things from you.”
“Then I’ll have to try harder.”
Pete took his hand and sighed. “I’ll miss you.”
Evan opened his mouth only to shut it again. It looked like he was debating with himself. Before Pete could ask if something was wrong, Evan turned back, kissed him, and said, “I’ll miss you too.” He waved good-bye, and when he did, Pete saw the faint marks from his own teeth still on Evan’s palm.
That wasn’t an image he was going to forget anytime soon. Something tugged strangely at his insides: that same light, dizzying feeling he’d been experiencing a lot lately. Before he could identify it, there was a voice at his elbow, “You two are not subtle at all.”
Pete jumped. “Jesus, Joshua, you startled me.”
He ignored Pete’s comment. “What’s up with you and mega hottie?”
Pete turned atomically red. “Uh, I was just showing him around, and—”
“That’s not what I meant. Although, that was also not subtle.”
Pete blinked. “Then what?”
Joshua sighed in a long-suffering way. “If you don’t know, I’m certainly not going to tell you.” He flounced away in the direction of the customer he’d abandoned. “Get back to work, lover boy.”
Pete dutifully obeyed. He figured he owed Joshua some obeisance after the stunt he’d pulled. If it weren’t for his sore muscles and pervading feeling of satisfaction, he wouldn’t believe he’d actually done that. Or that Joshua had left him off so easy.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Pete drove home just as the sun was setting over the glittering, metallic cityscape. He said hi to his mom, scarfed down some dinner, and spent the next few hours reading before bed. As soon as he lay down, however, his head filled with thoughts of Evan. It made him smile even as he ordered himself to sleep.
He finally dozed off, and his dreams were as full of Evan as his thoughts. In them, he swore he could feel Evan’s touch, hear his voice, see the radiance of his smile.
Just before dawn, he woke up, gasping and coated in sweat, and sat straight up in bed. His eyes landed on his window, where the parted curtains granted him a view of a handful of dying stars, the last ones to survive the burgeoning light of the sun.
He’d probably never be able to look at stars again without thinking about Evan: his warmth, his playful eyes, his laughter, and the way he made Pete feel like he could do anything, be anyone, the way he inspired and excited him, and—
“Fuck,” he panted. “I’m in love.”