Chapter 8 - A Gamble

"Carson made me promise not to choose him at elimination tonight." Nathaniel managed to catch Alain's attention on the way to dinner, pulling him into the games room. "If there's any way you can help... I'll do anything you want. Anything."

Alain was silent for a moment, considering, then gave a small nod, and told him what to do.

That day it was hard for Darren to think about anything else but the upcoming elimination. The fact that there was little planned for him to do on camera didn't make it any easier. The filming schedule was spent giving Nathaniel and Kaneda a round of speed dating with everyone on the opposite team, but as handsome and charming as Kaneda was, Darren couldn't bring himself to return the charm. Especially because Kaneda seemed like he might actually be interested.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "You seem really great. But there's several guys here who would happily date you and are way less messed up, you... don't ruin your chances by going after me."

"It's unfortunate that you think so," Kaneda replied, his smile sad and sympathetic. "I'm certain I'm not the only one who would disagree with your assessment. Nevertheless, I will honor your wishes."

The DILFs had their choice of date for the evening of casino games, in order of random draw. Stephen was drawn first and took Nathaniel, to Darren's surprise, though Blythe and Ryland and Xiang and Zhehan were entirely to be expected.

"Carson?" Freya said, and Darren felt his heart stop. An overwhelming longing and dread warred inside him. He couldn't talk to Carson, he couldn't explain himself, and yet suddenly the thought of seeing him with someone else -

"Can I choose to be the odd one out?" Carson asked after a moment. "I'd like more time to get to know everyone here."

Alain chose Darren, which should have relieved him, but instead it just made the turmoil worse. He genuinely liked Alain. If he didn't choose Alain tonight at elimination, could he be certain that someone else would? And yet... how could he let Carson leave?

"I know you have a lot on your mind, darling," Alain said softly, tugging him aside as the other couples scattered amidst the casino tables set up in the main room. "And I don't want to make this any harder on you. But you won't have another chance to talk to Carson before elimination. Perhaps not ever. If you don't want to be alone with production directing it, I can help you find a moment here...."

It was becoming more and more obvious that this decision was going to come down to him. Darren raked a hand through his hair, lost as to how to answer. He leaned into Alain as the other man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying to take strength in it. "I... I don't know. I don't even know if he wants to stay...."

"Just ask him that, then," Alain urged gently, and by the time he and Alain came to the blackjack table where Carson was the dealer, Darren knew it was unavoidable.

"I'm sorry we haven't talked about anything," he said quietly, and chanced looking up at him. "Do you really want to go home?"

God, how was he supposed to answer that? Of course he did. But what would it mean to say so? Carson would want answers, and how could he bring himself to lie to him? How could he tell him the truth? How -

"Will you deal us in, Carson?" Nathaniel, slipping into the seats beside him with Stephen, touched Darren's hand briefly under the table, warm and unexpectedly reassuring.

"...sure." Carson started placing cards on the table, then paused in front of Darren. "Can we talk, if I stay? Doesn't have to be tonight, or tomorrow, just... when you're ready. Please tell me we can talk."

Caught in the gaze of Carson's eyes, Darren's longing won out. He managed to nod, heart aching at Carson's relieved smile.

They played a round of Blackjack - which Stephen won - and Alain tugged him away from the table before they could get talked into another round. "Let's have a glass of wine and get some air, alright?"

Quinn was waiting for them at the bar, new glasses of wine already poured. He held up a finger as Darren went to speak, one hand on his earpiece, then nodded. "We can use the atrium. Come with me."

Xiang was already on the atrium settee, with Zhehan straddling his lap, heads bent close. "Every time I see you my dick gets hard," Darren heard Xiang purr.

"Time to go back to casino games, love birds," Quinn said, ushering them out, and soon Darren and Alain were alone. Or at least as alone as anyone could be with Quinn and the camera operators watching.

Alain perched half-sideways on the settee, taking both his hands. "Darling, listen. I've had a lovely time with you, truly. And it's very likely our time is at an end."

"Just give me a moment, alright? Hear me out. He cares deeply for you, Darren. And it's quite obvious to me that you feel the same way. It's a rare and beautiful thing, and I strongly urge you to do everything you can to save it."

"You don't think it's too late?" Darren asked despite himself. "I've been so horrible to him...."

Alain smiled, patting his hand. "I don't think he sees it that way. And Darren, trust me... despite the amount of time we've all spent together since we came here, these relationships are still new. They're founded on carefree days of sunbathing and making out, and that's lovely, but it's conflicts like these that make them into something more. If you can be open and honest and vulnerable with him, it will strengthen what you have into so much more. That's how you build something strong and lasting."

It was terrifying to contemplate, and strangely far more for the outcome than the telling. "...but what if I don't want him to forgive me?"

Alain's brows knit, and he took one of Darren's hands in both of his. "Try a practice run, then. Tell me what happened."

Darren let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at their hands. "...I didn't come here looking for love. My agent convinced me to apply. I've been lying this entire time, through the application and the interview, I...." He shook his head, throat closing over.

Alain cupped his face gently. "And then something changed when you met him, didn't it?"

Eyes burning, Darren managed to nod, choking back a sob as Alain pulled him into a warm embrace, urging Darren's face into his neck. "It's alright, darling. It's alright to feel scared. We all feel unprepared when love finds us, trust me. It doesn't mean you've done wrong by him. It doesn't mean that what you feel isn't real."

"What if it's just - just - sex hormones?" Darren tried desperately, and even to his own ears it sounded pathetic.

Alain gave a soft hum, stroking his hair. "Poppet, intimacy just draws out what you already feel. Breaks down those walls you brick up around yourself. Would you truly be this conflicted otherwise?"

Darren choked back a bitter laugh, wishing he could disappear into Alain's shoulder forever. Away from the lights and cameras and the truth of everything he said. "It feels like I've done wrong by him," he managed to reply finally, helplessly. "He's so kind, Alain, he's so - so loving! He deserves better than this!"

Alain's arms tightened around him briefly, not trying to deny or agree with his words. "...sometimes the only thing more frightening than apologizing is the thought of being forgiven," he said softly. "It's alright. When we open ourselves up to love we open ourselves up to being hurt, it's far less frightening to find reasons not to try. I think... I think it's been so hard for you to be in this house because you can't keep a distance from people to keep yourself safe. Am I right?"

He'd never thought about it like that before, but Alain's words cut to his core. Eyes filling with tears, Darren nodded.

"It's okay," Alain soothed again, stroking his cheek. "Everything you feel is so valid, darling. And these are big problems to solve. But it just takes one step to get started. Just a little bit of trust, I promise. So maybe... maybe if you can't make this decision for your own sake... all you need to decide is whether or not he's worth it."

"So... I lied to get on the show. I guess that's all come out now. I'm thirty-one, I'm... well, I never considered myself a Himbo but maybe I really am." Darren's gaze moves slightly past the camera, and he sighs. "Doctor DILF says I have to stay. That's my punishment, I can't get an easy out to just run away from the mess I've made. I have to face up to it."

"I suppose if nothing else I'll be a good cautionary tale. Where hubris will get you." A soft, mirthless laugh. "Thinking I could come here and just get by on bravado like I always do, not realizing how much I question my own self worth every day. But Alain says... I shouldn't make this about me, that's taking the easy way out. I have to decide whether or not HE's worth it." Darren's lower lip trembles, eyes growing bright. "That's a goddamn trick question, isn't it? He's worth so much more than I can give him. But I guess that's not for me to decide."

The camera cuts. Darren looks no more composed, though his eyes are dry again. "Alain's been so good to me. He's an amazing man. I just wish... I wish I didn't have to say goodbye to one of them tonight."

The hardest thing about dating Stephen, Nathaniel reflected, was pretending that he was cluelessly helpless when it came to card games. Carson shot him a flabbergasted look the third time Nathaniel asked for a third blackjack card when he was already over eighteen, but Nathaniel stalwartly ignored him, focusing completely on Stephen instead. He'd done what he could with Carson, and Alain had Darren. Now it was time to keep up his end of the bargain.

It was unexpectedly thrilling to play at manipulating Stephen. If it had just been to play the game Nathaniel wasn't sure he could have done it. But knowing their goal - knowing this was helping him - he felt like he'd been given permission to use all his skills for what would otherwise be nefarious ends.

Watching Stephen, reading his mood, his reactions. What was effective and what wasn't, and adjusting his approach. Needy, not slutty, Alain had advised, and Nathaniel quickly came to understand what that meant. He needed Stephen to feel protective of him, like Stephen could offer him not just the benefits of a boyfriend, but the full value of Stephen's life experience. Playing shy but engaged, clinging to his sleeve instead of leaning on his shoulder. Hanging on every word and laughing breathlessly at the man's deadpan humor. Staying close enough that his presence would urge Stephen to initiate touch: guiding Nathaniel with a hand on his back, wrapping an arm around him at the roulette table.

He wasn't intentionally watching Wes. But when he caught sight of the other man, more often than not Wes was glaring. And the few times they were at the same table it was nearly laughable how wrapped up in each other the two of them were, while simultaneously trying to pretend they weren't. Wes would go from hanging all over Tydall one moment to tense and prickly, while Stephen went from doing his best to ignore the PDA to fully focused and anxious whenever Wes's mood shifted.

He did feel a little sympathetic towards Tydall, who was clearly going to be collateral damage in all of this. It was a shame; the man was incredibly handsome and built, and almost made Nathaniel wish he was here to be a contestant in his own right. But he was here for Carson, and now he had a plan. All he needed to do was follow it through to the end, and then he and Quinn could... hopefully get back to what they'd started.

He was fairly certain that Wes had somehow managed to get hold of rather more wine than he was supposed to, though, which meant the potential for all sorts of opportunities, and when Nathaniel saw one, he took it. Wes, focused finally on a conversation with Trevor about the realism of some card-counting movie, was gesticulating with increasing passion, wine glass in hand. It was easy enough to map out a path, position himself accordingly, then at just the right moment turn, take a step back and....

A collision, and the satisfying drench of red wine on his skin and soaking into his white button down. "Oh my god! What the hell, Wes!"

"What? Shit!" Wes whirled, eyes wide. "Shit, I'm sorry, I - wait. You bumped into me!"

"Me? I made your wine magically jump out of your glass and all over my white shirt? Oh my god."

"It's okay. I'm sure it was an accident." Stephen had grabbed a stack of napkins from somewhere, ineffectively trying to sop up the spreading wine stain.

"You're goddamn wasted," Nathaniel shot back, letting his voice grow into a half-wail. "And this is my favorite shirt!"

"Come on, we'll take care of it. Don't worry about Wes, he didn't mean it." Stephen took his elbow, guiding him towards the kitchen and ignoring the camera operator following them. "Take off your shirt and put it on the counter, try and blot out the wine - but don't rub. I need to find the table salt...."

Nathaniel did as asked, crowding close to the counter and hunching in on himself in feigned self-consciousness. "Do you really think it'll come out?"

"It'll be fine." Stephen stepped close, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he started to pour salt over the stain. "Here - we just cover it all... leave it for half an hour, and it'll be fine. Trust me."

"Okay... thank you." Nathaniel cuddled into him like Stephen was a replacement for his lost shirt. "I know the other guys said Wes was jealous, but I really didn't think he'd stoop to sabotage...."

Stephen froze, the pile of salt building up for a moment before he seemed to catch himself and righted the container. "It was an accident, trust me. Wes's not like that."

"Wes isn't jealous of anyone who gets close to you?" Nathaniel turned to rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him, encouraged when Stephen looked away.

"There isn't - there wasn't ever anything between us," Stephen said quietly. "Trust me."

"Of course I trust you," Nathaniel replied immediately. "But... I'm not sure he has the same opinion, Stephen."

Stephen shook his head, though his gaze went back towards the hall that led to the main room. "No. No...."

Fairly certain he'd pushed Stephen far enough off his center, Nathaniel stroked his chest gently. "Well... maybe we should find out for sure?"

Nathaniel looked up at him through his eyelashes. "Can I borrow your shirt? Just to go up and get changed... I feel so naked...."

Without hesitation, Stephen started unbuttoning his shirt. Nathaniel slipped into it, doing up a few buttons but letting it hang large on his smaller frame. "Will you walk me out to the stairs? And... maybe kiss me?"

Stephen gave a soundless laugh. "Isn't it a bit immature to be kissing just to make someone else jealous?"

"You said he wasn't jealous," Nathaniel pointed out. "So it'll be nothing but a nice kiss on a nice date... right?"

Stephen said nothing, but wrapped an arm around his shoulders, starting out through the casino.

It was easy for Nathaniel to cuddle into him as they walked, pointedly keeping his attention on Stephen. He turned into him more as they reached the bottom of the stairs, slipping his arms up around his neck with a soft smile. "I'm sorry I caused such a fuss... I really appreciate you taking care of me, Stephen."

Stephen kissed like a gentleman too, Nathaniel immediately observed, or at least with him. He wasn't cold or resisting, but it certainly wasn't like kissing Quinn. Stephen returned his kiss with lingering warmth but made no attempt to taste him, lingering on his lips with a soft hum before pulling back. "Go get changed, sweetheart."

It didn't take long to change, but Nathaniel hung back on the mezzanine that overlooked the main floor of the house. Stephen was waiting quietly at the edge of the room sipping a glass of white wine, and glanced to the stairs, waiting for Nathaniel's reappearance, or at least the return of his shirt. After a few moments he sighed, then crossed the room to where Wes was at the roulette table. Taking his elbow, he leaned in to murmur something in his ear, and after a few moments Wes nodded, letting Stephen draw him away to the far side of the room. He'd give them a few minutes to focus on their conversation before returning.

Just as he turned for the stairs, Darren appeared from the bottom, eyes red-rimmed like he'd been in tears. He froze for a minute as he caught sight of Nathaniel, then continued up to meet him, exhaling in a long sigh.

"Are you alright?" Nathaniel asked, and Darren made a noncommittal head movement.

"Even after - " Darren's brows knit and he waved a hand vaguely towards the house. " - all of this? I lied to him."

"Then I support you." Nathaniel squeezed his shoulder gently. "And I'll help you however you need. Is there anything I can do right now?"

Darren shook his head after a moment, and Nathaniel headed back down to the event. Fortunately Stephen and Wes were still talking, so he made his way to where Alain had just returned to the blackjack table with Trevor and Kaneda. Now that he'd broached the idea of Wes's jealousy with Stephen, it was time to change tactics. So he slipped into the empty seat beside Alain, leaning against his side and draping his arms around his neck. "Is this seat taken?"

Alain cast him an amused look, eyes sparkling. "Don't you look like the cat that swallowed the canary."

"Nothing at all," Nathaniel replied, giving his brother his best innocent look despite knowing Carson wouldn't buy any of it. "Just wanting to get to know this handsome gentleman a little better, if he's interested."

Alain slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. "How could I not be? How about a kiss for luck, darling?"

"Just for luck," Nathaniel agreed, and claimed his mouth in a kiss that went far beyond luck.

Perhaps it had been kissing Stephen so chastely that made Nathaniel's blood rush hot with desire, or perhaps it was everything Quinn had been encouraging him to do with Alain. Perhaps it was their nefarious schemes. Nathaniel's lips parted eagerly to the press of Alain's tongue, his minds' eye supplying tantalizing images of pulling him into Quinn's mysterious broom closet. And yes, he was perhaps a little tipsy on both the wine and the elation of being so devious, but he certainly deserved to enjoy making out with Alain.

Faintly he was aware of the sound of someone going into hysterics, rising into a cry of, "And now he's making out with Alain!"

Alain's eyebrows rose, and he smiled, impish and delighted. "Oh, you have been busy," he purred. "Better go see to that, darling. I'll step in if things go south."

Nathaniel nodded, already slipping from the chair to take Stephen his shirt. There was no need to play coy now, stroking his free hand up Stephen's bare chest as he handed him his garment. "Thank you for lending me your shirt, Daddy," he purred, laying it on thick. "I really appreciate it."

Wes gaped, trying to find words with no sound coming out, turning a particularly interesting shade of purple.

"I... should go put my shirt back on," Stephen managed to get out, pulling away from them both and hightailing it towards the nearest bathroom.

Nathaniel glanced after him, then grinned at Wes. "I told him you returned his feelings," he said, then started towards Quinn. "And now I think I need to go to confession."

"Okay, I might have been messing with Stephen and Wes a little bit. But only because I like them both and they're both so ridiculously hopeless! I knew I never really had a chance with Stephen anyway. And I know it probably doesn't help my standing in the competition, but when everyone else has been here for so much longer the only thing you can really do is try and shake things up, right? Plus, if everything goes well tonight... maybe I can make out with Alain again...."

Nathaniel unplugged his mic as he got up from the couch, climbing into Quinn's lap before he could get up from his seat behind the camera. "Can you put a little dick in the soup?"

Quinn's bemused smile turned to a chuckle, and he pulled him into a kiss. "Dick soup?"

"Mmmm." Nathaniel let himself indulge for a long moment, kissing him slow and deep. "Can you fix the selection order at elimination?"

"How do I feel about the new Himbo being a little whore? I don't care. Nathaniel can do whatever he wants. I just think it's bad form, that's all." On the confessional couch. Wes folds his arms across his chest, vibrating in a way that indicates he does, in fact, care.

"Bad form?" Prompts a woman's voice quietly from offscreen.

"He was on a date with - he'd just been wearing Stephen's shirt! And then he's all over Alain? And then he's all over Stephen again? And then he has the audacity to say that he'd - " A frustrated noise, and Wes stares off screen.

The camera cuts. "I'm not still in love with Stephen. I'm not."

	Day 1	Day 2	Day 3	Day 4	Day 5	Day 7	Day 7: Elimination
Darren	Carson	Carson	Carson	Carson	Alain	Alain	?
Carson	Darren	Darren	Darren	Darren	Trevor	(Spare)	?
Wes	Alain	Alain	Alain	Alain	Tydall	Tydall	?
Alain	Wes	Wes	Wes	Wes	Darren	Darren	?
Trevor	Tydall	Stephen	Stephen	Stephen	Carson	Kaneda	?
Tydall	Trevor	Zhehan	Zhehan	Zhehan	Wes	Wes	?
Zhehan	Stephen	Tydall	Tydall	Tydall	Xiang	Xiang	?
Stephen	Zhehan	Trevor	Trevor	Trevor	(spare)	Nathaniel	?
Blythe	Luiz	Ryland	Ryland	Ryland	Ryland	Ryland	?
Ryland		Blythe	Blythe	Blythe	Blythe	Blythe	?
Xiang					Zhehan	Zhehan	?
Nathaniel						Stephen	?
Kaneda						Trevor	?
Luiz	Blythe	(spare)	————————————————— (eliminated)