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The office is dark, lit only by Andrew’s desk light. Once again, he’s the only one left, working late on a video. It’s the only thing that allows his ever-thinking brain to stop. He opens a drawer and pulls out a three-quarters empty bottle of cheap whiskey he keeps there for nights just like this one. Heaving a sigh, he unscrews the bottle and takes a long sip. The liquor burns down his throat almost as much as the pain, the unspoken name he keeps hidden. He’s startled by the sound of a door closing behind him and turns to see Shane coming out of a conference room. “Sorry,” Shane says when he sees Andrew jump. “Thought I was alone.”Andrew shrugs. “Lot of work to do.”Shane eyes the bottle in Andrew’s hand. “And no desire to go home, let me guess?”Andrew takes another swig in answer. Shane takes place next to him – in Steven’s chair, and Andrew’s heart squeezes. “Hey, I get it. Why do you think I’m still here?”Andrew offers him the almost empty bottle – a lousy attempt at finding company, but this is all he got. Shane accepts with a nod and takes the last drink from it. “I didn’t mean to drain your stash, man.” He winces, shaking the bottle to confirm nothing’s left. “Let me buy you a drink, make it up to you.”Andrew shrugs. “Sure.” It’s not like he has anything else to do.***In a u-shaped booth in the back of a dark-lit bar of Shane’s choosing, the atmosphere is pretty awkward for the first two drinks. They’ve never much hung out just the two of them, and it’s obvious neither of them really feels like talking. After the third scotch on the rocks, however, their brains are looser, their hearts lighter and their conversation, if not deep, is at least easier. Andrew feels like they’re both skirting around an issue, the same issue for both of them : both their hearts belong to someone who doesn’t know, who’d never want it. This is the reason they work late, the reason they drink. The reason Shane’s gaze reflect the ache in Andrew’s when he thinks nobody’s watching. Four drinks and the bar seems warmer, Andrew’s arms heavier, and is it just his imagination or is Shane sitting way closer to him? The scotch is a warm tingle down Andrew’s chest; Shane’s leg is a warm tingle down Andrew’s leg. Shane’s lips glisten from the drink, even in the dim light; his throat bobs with each swallow and Andrew feels warm, so warm. “We can’t put our lives on pause forever for them,” Shane says, and he’s so close his voice is warm on Andrew’s lips, warm like the scotch. “We gotta live a little, right?” Shane continues and he might have found whatever glimmer of agreement he was searching for in Andrew’s eyes because in a flash one hand is splayed across Andrew’s thigh, the other cupping his neck, and two scotch-soaked tongues meet, strange but familiar at the same time. Andrew feels fuzzy but somehow it fits. Shane and him aren’t meant to be anything more than a fuzzy tumble – two broken hearts looking to make one whole for a night. Solace.
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Steven is screwed. He’s always known Evan was handsome, sure. But he’d never been attracted to the guy. Until now. They’re at Articles of Style, and Evan is trying on his suit. And Steven is utterly unable to look away. The cut of the suit emphasizes every single perfect angle and curve of Evan’s body, showing no mercy whatsoever to Steven. Evan buttons up the suit and Steven had never noticed his hands before – strong, long, precise. A flash of these hands gripping his hips bursts through Steven’s mind and he gulps. He hears the guys talking about the cut of the suit and he absolutely cannot join in, he cannot follow the conversation because his brain is currently cataloging every single part of Evan that he never noticed before. And then he hears his name and oh they asked him a question and he should maybe pay attention to his own show. “What do you think, Steve?”What does he think? He thinks that this is the most amazing sight he’s ever seen; he thinks that he wants to pull Evan in by his tie, see if his kisses are as perfect as the rest of him; he thinks that he wants these strong shoulders, these sturdy arms to fold him in and keep him close; he thinks that he wants to wrap his legs around that slender waist and lose himself in these eyes. “I mean, you look fine.” He forces himself to laugh with the others, forces himself to look anywhere but at Evan. And then Evan calls “Hug test!” and he looks so endearing, a gorgeous smile on his face and it is both the thing Steven wants the most and the least because he can’t do that, not on camera, not with all these people around. But he drags his feet towards Evan and lets himself be hugged. He’s stiff, not even facing Evan, because his pants are tight and wouldn’t conceal much if their groins came in close contact. And Evan’s arms close around him, his hands pull him in and Steven just wants to give in but he can’t. Maybe one day Steven will stop falling for his cohosts.
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Adam doesn’t need much to be happy. A slice of good pizza and the smile of the most gorgeous girl he knows and he’s pretty much set for life. You couldn’t really call it a date. They just went out for lunch, the best slice in town, a place that doesn’t even have tables. They found a place to sit in some alley and the sun shines on them almost as brightly as Annie’s smile. But something in her eye makes him want to sit closer. To slide over on that cement wall and press against her side. She tells a joke in that rich voice of hers, a rumble that reaches into the deepest pit of his stomach and he can’t help but laugh. A short laugh that escapes from his lips like an afterthought but she looks elated about it. And Adam tells himself that maybe it is a date after all. The pizza is long gone when it’s time to walk back to the office but Adam needs to test a theory first. He sidles in close, until the outside of their thighs are almost pressed together on the low wall, and he slips his fingers between hers.
Annie turns to look at him, a jerk of her head to get the hair out of her eyes that just tugs at Adam’s insides, and that glorious, magnificent smile is back. “Can I kiss you?” he finds the courage to ask, and his voice is but a whispers but Annie always listens, never asks him to repeat even when he mumbles stuff more to himself than for anyone to hear, she listens and she hears and she gets him. “Yes please,” she answers and her voice flows through him, sweet and languid like honey and their lips finally meet, and that, too, is like honey. Deep and golden, and meant to be.
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Ryan knows he’s asking a lot of Shane for this one – Shane is doing it all against his better judgment. They’re filming for Unsolved and they’re spending the night in an haunted house in the woods. In Canada. In January. This mean they have to freeze their asses off all night, all so they can, according to Shane, “record a bunch of wind”. The cabin is set deep in the woods; so deep in fact that they have to park a mile away and walk the rest on snowshoes. “This is a terrible idea,” Shane said when Ryan told him about the plan. “No, come on, it’s gonna be fun!”“Ryan,” Shane says, in his I’m-not-kidding voice, “have you ever snowshoed before?”Ryan beams. “How hard can it be?”***They’re already deep inside the forest when they get to the place where they can park the car, and it’s just now hitting Ryan how far away from any sort of civilization they’re going to be after that mile-long trek. Of course he won’t say anything about it to Shane because he doesn’t want to give him an excuse to gloat. The crew went ahead earlier to set up everything, so it’s just the two of them. The wind is howling in the trees and it’s cold as hell – Ryan’s glad they arrived before sunset because he’d probably crap himself before they even got to the house, if he had to do this in the dark. Shane gets the snowshoes out of the trunk and hands him a pair.Ryan turns them over and over in his hands, trying to make sense of the straps.Shane lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Do you need help to strap them on?”There’s nothing Ryan would like more than to prove Shane wrong but alas, he does need the help. He hands the snowshoes back to Shane without a word, avoiding his glance so as not to offer him a gloating opportunity. Shane lets out a breathy chuckle and places the snowshoes on the ground at Ryan’s feet. “Step here and here.” Ryan carefully placed his feet where Shane pointed, feeling slightly unbalanced. And that is when everything goes sideways. Shane drops to his knees at Ryan’s feet to fasten the straps around his boots. Shane is kneeling in front of Ryan and that is all Ryan can focus on. And then he snakes a hand between Ryan’s feet to get to the back strap. He is basically hugging Ryan’s leg and Ryan can feel his body heat between the layers of both their snowsuits. His knees almost buckle under him. He’s pretty sure he’s turning bright red and his breathing comes out in stutters. Shane fastens the second snowshoe, and maybe it’s because Ryan knows it’s coming but the whole thing seems to be in slow motion – Shane wrapping his arms around Ryan’s leg to reach the back strap, Shane pulling to make sure everything is tightened enough. And then Shane tilts his face up, and his cheeks are reddened from the cold and he’s looking up at Ryan while still kneeling and Ryan can’t handle it anymore. He lets out a hysterical chuckle. “Okay there, buddy?” Shane asks, an eyebrow cocked up. “You know, I could get used to being served by you,” he says, because of course he can’t say he wants Shane on his knees for him for the rest of his life. Shane rolls his eyes and get back to his feet, and they shift back to their usual height difference. “Is this why you’re willingly ignorant of basic stuff grown men should know?” “Snowshoeing is not basic knowledge in California!”“How hard can it be?” Shane, with a shit-eating grin, echoes the argument Ryan used to close the snowshoeing deal, and Ryan knows when he’s beaten. Now he just has to figure out how to snowshoe for the first time with a raging boner.
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At first it’s a joke. They’re wrapping up a Try Guys video and Keith’s red pants make someone crack a Santa joke. So he gets into it, smiles his enormous grin and pats his lap. “Eugene! Come tell Santa what you want for Christmas!”“It’s March,” Eugene replies, rolling his eyes. He has to brush it off. This can’t cross the line between joke and reality. Because they’re in front of the crew, and Ned and Zach, and this is not happening. And okay, maybe they’ve done worse on the show. They’ve been naked together, they’ve done strip tease and literally peeled wetsuits off each other so you’d think a bit of lap sitting wouldn’t be a big deal. But somehow Eugene is convinced it would be his downfall. Keith’s still looking at him, still patting his lap, but the grin morphs into an inquisitive eyebrow. Eugene busies himself with the props they have to put away, the set they have to take down, and completely ignores Keith for the rest of the day. They all go out for drinks the next night, and the bar is quite crowded – they can’t find a table with four seats –and there it is again. Keith pats his lap at Eugene. Something dark in his eyes tells Eugene he’s not kidding this time. And that same something dark makes Eugene want to throw all caution to the wind and do it. He’s two drinks in – he’s basically sober, by his own standards – so he can’t really blame it on the alcohol, like he does with every misguided decision he takes. There’s something about Keith – a mix of overconfidence mixed with a genuine niceness – that pulls Eugene in like a magnet. He resists for a proud minute, then, noticing Zach and Ned are paying no attention to either of them – they are caught in an animated banter about single life and married life, as if they hadn’t had that very same discussion thousands of times – he gives in. He sets his drink on the table, pushes himself off the wall and prowls over to Keith – because if he’s doing this he wants it to be clear that he’s in control – he’s not the prey in this scenario. He could blow Keith’s mind in two minutes if he wanted. But as soon as his butt touches Keith’s lap, the balance of his entire world tilts and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. This is what he was afraid of. Keith wraps his arms around his waist to secure him in place and Eugene feels like a child, tucked into Keith’s giant body. He has lost all semblance of control. And it’s the scariest shit he’s ever experienced. But at the same time, he kinda wants to get lost in it. “So, what do you want for Christmas?” Keith asks in his ear, and the tone is playful but his voice his breathy, raising chills down Eugene’s spine. Every single wall Eugene had carefully erected in his life had been torn down in one tender squeeze of Keith’s on his hip. “You.”
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They’ve just wrapped after a long, exhausting day of shooting The Try Guys, and the four of them are absolutely beat. “Man,” Ned says, “I’m telling you, as soon as my ass hits the couch at home, I am not moving ever again.”“I know, right?” Keith nods, digging his car keys out of his jacket, “Becky and I are doing takeout and Netflix, and I’ll probably just crash in front of Gilmore Girls.”“Same,” Ned says as he reaches his car, and they exchange their goodbyes. Zach and Eugene look at each other. Their night promises to be like every other: drinks with coworkers, coming home too late, hungover the next morning. Zach doesn’t want to be the first to say something, but he knows party boy Eugene will never admit how envious of married life he is at this very moment. “So…” Zach tries to sound casual. “That seems nice.”Eugene just shrugs, a noncommittal hum in his throat. “I mean I wouldn’t mind not having to find parking near the bar, not having to fight for a seat. To be honest none of this sounds relaxing right now.”“Beer is relaxing.”“Not when it costs 10 bucks.”Eugene chuckles. “You got me.” They take Zach’s car to his place. When they get home he throws a frozen pizza in the oven and goes to the fridge to find beer. “Actually I think the married way to do this is with a bottle of wine,” he calls to Eugene who’s setting up Netflix in the living room. “Sure.” Eugene isn’t picky when it comes to alcohol. When the pizza’s done, Zach brings everything to the coffee table and they settle in front of Friends. “Figured it’s a safe choice and we can turn our brains off,” Eugene explains. They clink their glasses of wine together and Eugene presses play. The pizza’s gone before the first episode ends and although it’s pretty nice, it doesn’t quite live up to the hype Ned and Keith built. Zach feels like something’s missing. Something to bring this regular night between two friends up to the cozy, forget-the-rest-of-the-world experience their married friends are always raving about. And then it hits him and he almost chokes on his wine. Cuddling. Eugene would kill him if he dared to suggest it, but to be honest, the prospect of cuddling with Eugene sounds a thousand times better than mindless grinding with strangers in a club in the hopes that one day his bed will not be as empty. So he tries to hint about it as a joke – that way he can totally say he was kidding when Eugene inevitably shuts him down. “Look at us,” he says in what he hopes is a sarcastically cheerful tone, “we’re turning into an old married couple – “ a nervous chuckle – “the only thing missing is the cuddling!”He stands up to bring the empty plates back to the kitchen, the better to hide his growing anxiety at Eugene’s silence. A few excruciatingly quiet seconds pass before Eugene pulls him by the hand and sits him down between his spread legs, his back to Eugene’s chest. “Relax,” Eugene says, barely a breath, not even a whisper, and Zach realizes he is stiff as a plank, waiting for Eugene to dismiss it as a joke, a prank, a mistake.Eugene runs a hand down his arm and Zach’s whole body goes slack against him. Eugene’s fingers are still grazing up and down his arms and a single question goes round and round in Zach’s brain, almost like a chant is this a joke? is this a joke?He’s waiting for Eugene to push him away, to leave, to say “I don’t cuddle” because that’s how things work in Zach’s world usually. But Eugene doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere. He keeps on raising goosebumps along Zach’s arms, keeps on bracketing him with his long legs spread along the entire length of the couch, keeps on breathing right next to Zach’s ear, and when Friends pulls a chuckle out of him, it tickles Zach right underneath his earlobe. They’re halfway through the second episode when Zach esteems Eugene might be in it for real, and that maybe he’s not leaving. Zach sets a tentative hand on Eugene’s thigh, and it is not batted away, nor does the thigh escapes from his grasp. In fact, Eugene squeezes his waist tighter between his thighs, and one of his hands tangles between Zach’s fingers. The wine is warm in Zach’s chest and Eugene is warm on Zach’s back and all of it combined lulls Zach right to sleep. He wakes up, and judging by what’s happening on TV, he must have been out for like two episodes – yeah he can tell a Friends episode from a single scene, it’s one of his useless gifts. Eugene is still bracketing his entire body, but he pulled a blanket over them and set Zach’s glasses carefully on the coffee table. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” he whispers when Zach turns to look at him. “Sorry I dozed off, it was –”“Real comfy, huh? It would probably be better for your back to resume this in your bed.”Zach turns red from head to toe, but there’s no sign on Eugene’s face of any innuendo or euphemism. Zach nods and scrambles upward, biting back a whine as the cold hair hits his back where Eugene had previously been. He rakes a hand through his hair. “So, um, this was great…” “Got a pair of sweatpants I can borrow?”“W-what?”“Well I’m not sleeping in skinny jeans.”A bit confused, Zach walks to his bedroom, where he find his least ratty pair of sweatpants. Eugene is pulling the covers back from the bed. “What side do you sleep on?”Zach drops the pants.
Eugene. Is about. To willingly. Sleep with him.
Something does not compute. Eugene picks up the pants and starts taking off his pants. Zach instinctively turns away, as if they’d never seen each other in various states of undress before.When Zach turns back to Eugene, he is now wearing Zach’s sweatpants, a bit too short for him, and a t-shirt, and he’s sitting down on Zach’s bed. “You coming?”Eugene pats the mattress next to him and Zach’s mind short circuits. Eugene obviously realizes that Zach’s legs have stopped working because he pulls him close, maneuvers him to lie down on the bed and then starts spooning him.
There’s no way this is happening. He’s clearly dreaming, asleep in front of Friends, alone.
After a few minutes, he gathers up the courage to speak. “Eugene?”“Mm.”“What are you doing?”“Trying to sleep.” The words are muffled against Zach’s back and his warm breath sends a tingle down Zach’s spine, making his toes curl. “Can we talk about this?”Eugene emits a grunt that sounds a bit like “about what?” still plastered against Zach’s back. “About how you always avoid physical touch and emotions and now you’re literally spooning me, in my bed?”If anything, Eugene cuddles in even closer. “There’s nothing to explain. I like you and you said we were having a married couple night.”“So this is just a one time thing?”He feels Eugene shrugging behind him. “Do you want it to be a one time thing?”Zach turns around. He has no idea if he’s allowed to say what he really wants, if he can voice the desires that have haunted him for the better part of the last year, if this is even a good idea at all. He must be doing a pretty good job of conveying all of this through his eyes because Eugene smirks. “Thought not.”Zach can’t tell who made the first move but all of a sudden their lips are together, sharing an exploratory dance, and its everything Zach has ever wanted. Maybe married life wouldn’t be the worse thing ever.
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A dark stage, a single spotlight. The last notes of a saxophone melody still hanging in the air. Chantel slips backstage, hides in the shadows, waiting. A dark stiletto, a pale leg slipping out the slit of a dark velvet dress. Chantel extends her hand, grabs a wrist and pulls it towards her. A flash of silver and she brings a knife to the saxophonist throat. Devin doesn’t scream. Doesn’t even stumble. Stands in the shadows, her back to Chantel, looking vaguely annoyed, as if she was used to this. “Bianchi told me you’d be an easy target,” Chantel drawls in her ear. Devin manages to twist around, looking down at her, but Chantel’s grip is still firm on her, the metal still pressed against her throat. A dark look flashed through Devin’s eyes. “What else did he tell you?” she snarls. Chantel jerks her in closer, looks up into her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”They are standing chest to chest, Devin breathing heavily, the already low cut neckline of her dress catching on the lapel of Chantel’s tuxedo on every heave, revealing more and more pale skin. Chantel is not the type to let herself get distracted on a job, but she can’t help thinking back on everything Bianchi told her. A smirk forms on Devin’s lips. “What’s the matter? Can’t finish the job?” Chantel’s breath is coming out almost as quickly as Devin’s now, an intoxicating blend of cigars, whiskey and jasmine coming up to tickle her nostrils. Devin licks her dark red lips, tantalizingly slowly, and Chantel feels her grip on the knife slipping. Devin’s leg slips between Chantel’s, and takes advantage of her half a second of squirming to take control of the knife. Chantel feels herself being pushed across the room until she is pinned to the wall, chest to chest with Devin, the sharp point of the knife digging into her side, almost breaking the skin but not quite. “Didn’t Bianchi tell you that I can get out of any tight spot?” The way Devin bites into the word ‘tight’ makes Chantel’s mind swim and she feels herself sliding down the wall a bit, only staying upright because Devin is bracketing her entire body. “Did he tell you how I can make my way into your mind until I completely own you?” Devin licks a stripe from Chantel’s shirt collar to her earlobe and Chantel has to bite back a moan, but there’s no way Devin didn’t feel the shudder that ran up her spine. Devin cocks up an eyebrow. “See? It’s already working.”Her voice is a deep rumble that Chantel can feel through her chest almost more than she can hear it. Chantel knees are weak. She isn’t used to feeling so unsteady – both physically and mentally – she’s always so level-headed, she trained for it, but somehow Devin’s entire being is like a drug to her and there’s only one certainty in her mind right now. She needs more.Devin’s leg between hers pushes up, presses hard against her core, right where she needs it but it’s not enough. She tries to gain some purchase, to rub against the leg, but her knees are still too weak and she only sort of shimmies underneath the weight of Devin’s body. Devin lets out a high-pitched, mocking laugh. “We can do this the fun way, or the hard way.”Chantel cocks an eyebrow, trying to hide how enticing the fun way sounds to her ears. “Either you come in here,” Devin nods at a room down the hallway, “we have a bit of fun together, I let you leave and you tell your boss you lost me, or…” She lets the word hang in the air for a few seconds, until Chantel is almost tempted to choose the first option without hearing the second. “…your boss is gonna receive an interesting package tomorrow morning. It would be a shame, though. You look like someone who knows how to use her tongue.”Chantel does some quick thinking. The first option is obviously better for the time being, but Devin’s threat pales in comparison to what her boss might to do her if she comes back with an unfinished job. Losing a tongue is tame compared to what Ze does to those who cross him. Both Devin’s leg and the knife are pressing in closer now. She needs to decide. “How about we have some fun, and then you help me take out Ze?”Wine lips part, a grin, the clank of a knife falling to the ground. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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If you asked Steven Lim what his past love interests all had in common, he’d tell you “amazing smiles”. Steven has always had a thing for smiles.The first time he meets Ryan Bergara, it feels like someone has cracked open his soul and poured pure sunlight into it.Ryan is looking at him like meeting Steven genuinely made his day, and Steven feels immediately comfortable talking to him – almost as if he didn’t have this anxiety that prevents him to talk to most strangers.Ryan and he become friends, but they don’t work on the same kind of stuff so they never really become close. Still, Steven considers it a good day if he gets to see that smile at least once.But soon it’s not enough – he doesn’t want to just see the smile, he wants to be the cause of it. It’s terrifying, because he’s not used to putting himself out there, but for that smile? He’d do anything.He uses his pull with Worth It to invite Ryan to do a sneakers episode. Steven knows nothing about sneakers, but the elated look on Ryan’s face when Steven tells him he’ll get to try on a famous pair of shoes – who knew shoes could be famous? – tells him it was the right move.They spend a whole day together and at first Steven cracks joke upon joke to make Ryan laugh, but soon he realizes that the smile doesn’t leave Ryan, even when Steven’s quiet. That maybe Ryan truly enjoys his company, and that he doesn’t have to work so hard to pull smiles out of him.They wrap up filming and the crew goes home, but neither Steven nor Ryan makes a move to leave. Ryan leans against the hood of Steven’s car, hands in his pockets, enjoying the warm sun on his face.Steven gathers up his courage and sidles over to him. “Do you wanna go… grab a bite or something?” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, like he doesn’t live for Ryan’s smile.And there it is. Ryan positively beams and Steven’s heart skips several beats. “Yeah, that would be nice!”They choose a nearby Mexican restaurant and spend the rest of the night stuffing themselves with tacos and margaritas until Ryan leans back in his chair, a dazed look on his face, and rubs his belly. Steven watches, mesmerized by just how blissed out Ryan looks – it’s kind of unbelievably cute. “Dude, you okay?” Ryan eventually says, and Steven feels his face getting intensely warm as he realizes he’s been staring at Ryan for like a minute. “What? Why?”“Jesus, Steven, you’re staring at me like…”“Like what?” Okay now, maybe Steven is starting to feel a bit emboldened because if Ryan noticed him staring he’s already in trouble, so it’s not like he has anything to lose.Ryan rakes a hand through his hair, lets out a incredulous chuckle. “I don’t know, man. Like… you’re into me, or something?”Even if Steven wanted to lie about it, he couldn’t. His face instantly betrays his feelings, mouth curling into a grin, a spark of hope in his eyes matching the one in Ryan’s. “I am!” And it feels so good to say it, like an enormous weight just vanished off his shoulders. “Dude, really?” Ryan asks, like he can’t quite allow himself to believe it, like somehow it’s too good to be true. Steven looks down at his hands because he’s still quite shy about what he wants to say. “I’m, like, crazy about your smile.”“My smile?” Steven looks up because Ryan bursts out laughing. “What about yours?”They both fall silent for a minute because both of them are sporting brilliant smiles and they need to bask in it. Revel in it now that they don’t have to do it through stolen glances. Ryan leans over the table. “C’m’ere.” Steven bridges the gap between them, and both their smiles finally meet. It tastes like sunshine.
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You look so lonely in that hospital bed. It’s uncomfortable and unwelcoming, and you look even ganglier than usual – for the first time in your life you look small. You and I spent long, excruciating nights in uncomfortable places – lord knows I’ve kept you awake a number of times. But I’ve never spent a worse night than this one. This time it’s you who’s keeping me awake, and you don’t even know it. They say you are out of danger now, that you’re stabilized. I know that I’ve never been more scared in my entire life, even in the hauntedest of haunted houses. I thought I was gonna lose you, and it made me realize a bunch of things. I might as well tell you now, cause Jesus, I could never say these things to you if you were conscious. While you were bleeding on my backseat, while I was speeding to the hospital, and you were smoking a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last…Well, that’s when I knew. I’m in love with you, man. Jesus, I can’t believe we’ve known each other for years and it took you almost dying for me to realize it.For real, though, you make me feel whole. You’re like home to me, and I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. So can you just – get better? Be conscious and come back home? Ryan rakes a hand through his hair, lets out a shaky breath, a relieved chuckle at the weight that just lifted off his shoulders. And then, because if he doesn’t do it now he’ll never do it, he threads his fingers through Shane’s on the bedspread. The steady beeping of the machines hooked to Shane quickens, and panic rises in Ryan’s chest, until he feels Shane’s fingers squeezing his. He straightens up in his chair, on high alert for any sign of trouble, but the beeping slows back down and Ryan figures it was just a muscular reflex. “Y’almost scared me to death there, big guy.”“Ain’t hard to do.”Ryan stands up so fast he gets light-headed. “You’re awake! Oh my god dude, I was so scared, there was so much blood – “Ryan can’t stop rambling, it’s like all the anxiety that filled every inch of his body is trying to get out at once in the form of broken nonsense. Shane squeezes his hand harder and Ryan shuts up, sits back down. Shane still hasn’t opened his eyes, and Ryan feels emboldened by the intimacy, by the absence of Shane’s gaze. “Never scare me like that again.”“I’m in love with you too.”Thousands of questions whirl through Ryan’s brain and he can only grasp one. “How long have you been awake?”“Long enough.”
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Sara’s been with Shane long enough that she knows every tell of his – she can read him like a book. She’s not prepared, however, for his reaction when Garrett walks by. She has no idea where this is coming from, but he almost goes boneless, his eyes cloud over and he lets out a breathy giggle. She has never seen him in such a state, not even at the height of his crush on Ryan. She keeps her mouth shut but starts planning. She waits until Garrett is alone in the break room and follows him, trying to look casual as she waits for the coffee maker. “So, um, Garrett?”“What’s up?”“You know Shane?” She’s never felt this nervous and stupid before. “Your boyfriend.”“Yeah.”How can he just stand there looking so friendly but so intimidating at the same time? Oh god why did she think she could do this? There’s a reason why Shane always handle the picking up part of threesomes!“Nevermind.” She turns and walks away. “Sara.” Garrett grasps her wrist, and she turns to him, full of hope that maybe he managed to read between the lines and won’t make her say it. “Your coffee,” he says simply, nodding to the cup still waiting in the machine. “Oh.” She takes it and makes to leave but his hand is still on her wrist, and he looks at her all open and soft and maybe she can do this. She takes a sip of coffee to steel herself and – fuck that’s hot – she tries not to show that she just burnt her tongue but Garrett smirks and – fuck that’s hot. “Would you like to make my boyfriend feel small?” she blurts out and it doesn’t make much sense, that much is made obvious by the puzzled look on Garrett’s face. “I don’t mean like belittle him or make fun of him – I meant like – the height difference, he’s never – ” She’s properly rambling now and Garrett is still holding her wrist in his huge hand that could probably wrap around it twice and she’s shaking so hard actual waves are forming in her cup of coffee. Garrett carefully takes the cup from her and sets it on the counter behind them.“Are you suggesting a threesome?”How can he be so calm while discussing this? Sara can do nothing but nod. “I’m free on Friday night.” You’d be hard pressed to guess who’s more frazzled this week between Sara and Shane. Sara’s decided to keep the surprise from Shane – he knows something’s happening on Friday, but he doesn’t know what exactly. She’s never been a good liar, and so she spends the week spewing nonsense, when she’s not fantasizing about Friday night. Shane for his part, spends the week being increasingly flustered each time Garrett talks to him – and he does, a lot. Sara can appreciate how dedicated Garrett is to building up the sexual tension. On Thursday morning, Shane is casually leaning against the counter in the break room, talking to Adam. Garrett comes in, goes straight to Shane, bracketing him against the counter in order to get a mug from the cupboard behind him. “Sorry, just need a cup,” Garrett says, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if Shane didn’t go completely limp and breathless. Adam lends Shane a hand to hold him up, and casually says “So, you and Garrett, huh?”“I don’t know, man.” Shane breathes out incredulously. Friday can’t come fast enough, and when Sara and Shane finally get home at the end of the day, Sara is so anxious she has at least three clumsy accidents while getting ready, and a fit of nervous giggles. “Jesus Christ, Sara, you’re making me nervous with your freaking out. Are you sure whatever this is is a good idea?”“Yes!” Even in all her anxiety there’s not a single doubt that this is exactly what Shane needs. “I’m just not used to being the one who plans, you know?”He pulls her close, buries his face in her pink curls. “I’m sure it’s gonna be great. How do I look?”He’s looking amazing in a navy suit, light grey shirt with no tie and the first two buttons carelessly left open. “Like a snack,” she winks and he laughs, and the sounds settles deep in her chest, calming her nerves. The doorbell rings and they both freeze, eyes wide. “Well, answer it, it’s your surprise!” Sara finally says, pushing him out of the bedroom. Shane opens the front door to reveal Garrett, all six foot and seven inches of him, clad in a grey suit with a purple shirt and it’s all Shane can do not to faint on the spot. And Garrett just says “Hey, Shane,” like he just walked by him on the street and not like he came over to Shane’s house to have sex with him and his girlfriend.But the way he says Shane’s name? Like it’s somehow a candy he’s trying for the first time and wants to take his sweet time enjoying it. Shane is grateful for Sara coming up behind him, settling a hand at the small of his back, grounding him. “Hey, Garrett.” She stands on her tiptoes and he leans down to kiss her on the cheeks and somehow every bit of nervous energy that filled her before left the second she realized Shane was about to lose it. Now that Garrett’s focus isn’t on him anymore, Shane relaxes a bit and notices just how hot it is when Sara tiptoes into a kiss, when you see it from an outside point of view. The greeting kiss on the cheek migrates to the mouth, and Garrett’s hands are more confident around Sara’s waist. He pulls her in closer and she’s barely even touching the ground anymore – neither is Shane, it feels like, because he’s pretty sure that image made him ascend to another plane of reality. Sara giggles into the kiss and Garrett sets her down, turning to Shane. A smirk on his face, a predatory gaze and suddenly Shane’s knees stop working but it doesn’t matter because Garrett is holding him up, flips them around to pin him against the front door. As if by instinct, some muscle memory he’s never needed because he’s always been the tall one, Shane’s legs wrap around Garrett waist. Garrett captures Shane’s lips in his, lets out a growl, and Shane whimpers. He’s never felt this small – vulnerable but cared for at the same time – and he wants to melt into it. Sara knows him so well.
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Adam didn’t speak much French, but he did speak art, so it wasn’t long after he arrived in Montmartre that a group of fellow starving artists took him in. Of this bunch of brilliant creators, two of them spoke English, and Adam naturally gravitated towards them.One of the two, Steven Lim, had the face of an angel and a body Adam was itching to paint. The other, an Eastern European named Andrew Ilnyckyj, had strong fingers that could pull magic from a shitty, beat-up violin. Andrew was the main reason they could even hang out in this café and have something to eat. Marcus, the owner, gave them wine and bread on the nights when Andrew played. The others, with their poems and paintings that sold once in a blue moon, barely had enough to pay rent on ratty, drafty attics. Adam was nursing a glass of red wine, listening to the sweet musings of Andrew’s fiddle, but most of his attention was fixed on Steven. His mind was picturing the way he would look, spread on Adam’s couch, ready to be immortalized in painting. He thumbed absently through his sketchbook, the one he always carried around with him, a gesture which caught Steven’s attention. “Can I see?”Adam didn’t usually share his sketches – they were the most private thing in his life – but Steven looked so eager and Adam truly valued his opinion. He handed him the sketchbook and nervously stared at him while Steven flipped through the pages, stopping once in a while on a piece that held his attention. He stared the longest at a charcoal portrait of a woman with short, pale hair, languorously spread on a bed, wearing nothing but a necklace. Steven studied the simple letter D at the bottom of the page. “D? Who is she?”Adam bit back a melancholic sigh. “An old flame.”“She’s pretty.” Steven’s voice was even but devoid of emotion. He closed the book, handed it back to Adam, unable or unwilling to meet his eye. He drained the rest of his wine and poured himself another glass, turning back to Andrew, who was now playing a slow, heart-wrenching melody. It was like Andrew was pulling each note from Adam’s heart. He was telling the tale of Adam’s despair as it happened, as Adam watched Steven turn away, as he wondered what went wrong. Another love ended before it could even begin.But the wine kept coming and Andrew kept playing, and Adam’s mind started feeling fuzzy, but so did Andrew’s music. He played and it felt like a warm summer night. Like a bed you’d spent the whole day in. Like a lover. Steven was now sitting next to Adam, fingering the cover of the sketchbook. “Do you only sketch your lovers?”Adam shrugged. “It depends. I sketch people who inspire me. Sometimes they are my lovers. Sometimes it’s the other way around and we become lovers after I’ve sketched them. Sometimes we’re just passing in each other’s life, like two ships into the night.”Steven’s eyes darkened and he gripped his glass a bit too tight and suddenly he was real close and asked: “What about me? Do I inspire you?”Adam’s heart clenched and Andrew’s melody sounds like springtime, like hope and sunshine. Adam gave a little smile. “Yeah.”They both stood up a little too fast. Before they walked out the door, Steven shared a charged look with Andrew. Adam pondered at the meaning of it, but Andrew’s music turned sensual again, like the warm summer night once more.Steven followed Adam up a narrow, rickety staircase three stories above the bar, to the attic room Marcus let him rent in exchange for a bit of work in the bar. Adam lit a few candles and some old oil lamps, making the room bright enough to draw, but dim enough to set the mood. Steven stood awkwardly in front of the couch, hands fiddling nervously with his coat buttons. “How do you want me?” He turned bright red as he noticed the double meaning, chuckled nervously. “I mean – ” He raked a hand through his hair. Adam crossed over to him, a soothing hand on his shoulder. “However you’re comfortable. You can lie on the couch and I’ll set my easel over there.” He nodded at an empty space between the bed and the couch.Steven’s started unbuttoning his coat, shrugging it off. “You can – you can keep your clothes on if you want,” Adam said, not wanting to take advantage.Steven was still bright red, but he kept on pulling off his clothes. Adam felt awkward being fully clothed and watching him strip, so he busied himself setting up his easel and his supplies – and old glass jar of paintbrushes, a tin marked TABAC containing his paints, a canvas. When he looked up, Steven was completely naked, sitting gingerly on the edge of the couch. Adam took a sharp breath and could feel himself blush – ridiculous, considering the sheer number of naked people he’d drawn in his life. “You can, like – ” he found he had much trouble finding words to express himself, “make yourself comfortable.”“Right.” Steven looked as nervous as Adam felt, and that eased Adam’s nerves a bit. Hands shaking, Steven fluffed a pillow, reclined on the couch, half facing Adam. The way he didn’t look straight at him, with the light falling on only half of his face, gave Steven a mysterious look that tugged deep at Adam’s core. He seemed like he didn’t really know what to do with his hands, until Adam said, “just breathe, relax.” Steven closed his eyes for a second and draped one arm on the couch over his head, the other hand lazily resting on his bare thigh. Satisfied with the pose, Adam started painting. No mere charcoal sketch for Steven – a beautiful, extraordinary man like him deserved to be immortalized in paint, on canvas. He worked for hours, only stopping to put more coal in the stove – Steven was shivering, exposed, and springtime had yet to come. The old wine bottle Adam used as an ashtray was getting fuller and fuller, as Adam did his best work with a cigarette between his lips. He was perfecting the jut of Steven’s hip when the door behind him opened. Steven didn’t startle, didn’t even make to cover himself, and Adam looked around. It was Andrew, stretching his violin-numbed fingers after a long night playing. Andrew walked over, seized the cigarette dangling from Adam’s lips and took a long drag. Adam couldn’t look away, mesmerized by how his lips curled around it, his eyes clenched shut, savouring the familiar hit. Andrew placed the cigarette back between Adam’s lips, uncorked an half-full bottle of wine with his teeth, and draped himself across Adam’s back to watch him work. “You made him look amazing.”“He already does,” Adam breathed out, and Steven turned bright red, even under the dim lights. Dawn came without any of them noticing, and finally, Adam set down his paintbrush. He didn’t think he could ever do justice to Steven’s angelic aura, but he couldn’t work on it any longer. “Can I see?” Steven asked, voice hoarse from the lack of use, stretching his limbs out of the pose he’d kept all night. Adam raked a hand through his hair and dropped his last cigarette in the ash-filled wine bottle, nodding. Andrew, who had made himself a nest of coats at Adam’s feet when he saw that it would take a while, stirred and sat up while Steven pulled on a robe. “Whoa, is that me?” Steven asked. “Yeah I know, it doesn’t much look like you.” Adam walked over to the window, hands in his pockets, wishing he had a cigarette left. He opened the window, letting the fresh morning air wash over the stuffy, stale attic. “Are you kidding, it looks like an ideal version of me! I look like a god or something!”“It’s actually a perfect likeness,” Andrew piped up, making eyes at Steven. “Oh, stop it, you!”“So you like it?” A spark of hope warmed up Adam’s chest. “It’s the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.”“Hey, I wrote you a song!” Andrew protested. “Let’s say it’s a tie, then.”Steven took Andrew’s hand and walked up to Adam. They wrapped themselves around him, spreading kisses down both sides of his neck. A heady draft of lilac blooms blew in from the window. Springtime was here and they were in love.
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The trouble with Zack’s bedroom walls is that they are thin as fuck. And, when you’re someone with an enormous, unrequited crush on your straight roommate, that can become a problem. Usually, when Justin had people over – read: hook-ups – Zack finds a reason to get out of the apartment, or wears his nose-cancelling headphones. Tonight, however, Zack was already asleep when Justin came back, and he woke up to the sounds of bed springs creaking and heavy breathing, right on the other side of his wall. And, because his body is a bitch who likes to torture him, he wakes up with a giant hard-on begging to be taken care of. His hand is down his pants before he’s even fully awake, before he realizes he’s jerking off to –his roommate his best friendhis soulmateAnd it may be a dick move, or a faux pas or something you just don’t do because it could ruin everything, but he’s already so far gone and stopping seems like the worst prospect ever. He focuses on Justin’s panting and he can almost see the muscles moving, taste the sweat coming out of his every pore, feel his grip on his hips, hear his name on Justin’s breath like a prayer and –Whoa. That last one was real. He really did just hear “Zack” on the other side of the wall and a few things happen all at once. Zack comes, harder than he’s ever done before, spilling over his chest like he wish Justin would do. A masculine voice says “what?” and the next room falls silent.
A masculine voice?
Bedsprings creak again, like someone rolled out of bed.Zack hears Justin’s pleading voice “Garrett, wait, come back!”Garrett? Like, Garrett from work?“You obviously have some stuff to figure out.”Justin’s bedroom door open and footsteps recede through the apartment until the front door opens and closes again. Zack cleans himself up with a questionably clean t-shirt, pulls on a pair of basketball shorts, and walks to his bedroom door, hand hesitant on the doorknob. What will he find on the other side? Should he even go out there?Isn’t that his best chance – his only chance, the one he’d never even dreamed he’d get – to get somewhere with Justin? What if he heard wrong? He finally decides to at least come out of his room, and pretend he’s going to the bathroom if he read the situation wrong. He opens his door to find Justin, fist poised to knock. They both startle and let out a weak chuckle. “Sup man?” Zack says, and he’s very proud he’s able to sound confident, normal, and that he managed to say something other than ‘fuck me’. Justin just stares at him, and Zack can see so many conflicting emotions in his eyes he doesn’t know what it means – to be fair Justin doesn’t look like he knows either. He looks torn between kissing Zack, melting into tears, punching a wall, and running back into his room. Zack figures he’ll make it easy for him. Right now, what Justin needs is a bro, someone who’ll listen, and if what he needs to get off of his chest manages to get them laid, great, and if not, at least Zack will have helped his friend. He throws himself on his unmade bed, slapping the mattress next to him. “You look like you could use a 3AM dish sesh, dude. Come on.”Justin smiles gratefully and perches himself on the bed. “Didn’t work out with the person you brought home, huh?”“Let’s just say we wanted different things.”Zack nods encouragingly, hoping he’ll talk more. “He – ” here Justin takes a nervous pause, waiting to see if Zack will acknowledge the pronoun, “he wanted to hook up. I wanted – ”Justin lets the words hanging between them, either a hurdle or a buoy, Zack doesn’t know yet. He’s hanging to Justin’s every word and both of them are breathing hard, in tandem, and suddenly Zack can’t take it. A single word stands between himself and his goal, and he utters it, with less than a second on the clock. “Me.”And he scores. Justin throws himself at him, despair and relief and elation mixing on their breaths – chuckles and sighs and pants – and their lips finally meet, their legs tangle together, their hands pull at everywhere to get closer, to get friction. Maybe Zack’s thin walls weren’t the worst thing, after all.
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The first time Adam meets Devin is so casual they might as well have known each other forever. He’s having a smoke in the alley behind the office, sitting with his back to the brick wall. She drops down next to him with a loud exhale, pulling out a lighter out of her bra. “Man, I just had the weirdest day!” she says. “Welcome to Buzzfeed,” he says sarcastically, because after the third time you’ve seen men walking around the office wearing chokers, been invited to a strip show by your coworkers, or been paid to taste weird alcohol, nothing feels weird anymore. She lights up a cigarette and Adam catches a glance of her lighter – a custom Zippo with a yellow, pink and blue heart on it. The pansexual flag, Adam recognizes, for he has a pin with the same heart on his backpack. She follows his gaze to his bag and sees the pin. Her face lights up and she bumps her shoulder against him. “Hey, I’m Devin.”“Adam Bianchi.”“Nice to meet you, Adam Bianchi.” The following weeks, months, years pass by in a flurry of shoots and crazy experiences and late-night editing, but the one constant in his life is his 2PM smoke break with Devin. At first they bump into each other in the alley, laughing at their synchronicity. Soon, however, Adam finds himself looking up when Devin stands up with her pack of smokes, following her down the stairs. Not much afterwards, she starts texting him cigarette emojis, looking up to see if he’s busy. He never is – not for her. Friendship is too weak a word to describe the bond that develops between them. They can talk about anything – most of all, their various crushes on their coworkers, because they share a tendency to fall hard, fall fast, fall often. The inevitable happens around a shared smoke, like all the big milestones in their relationship. They’re standing outside a bar, Devin tipsily trying to work her Zippo, Adam’s hands shielding her from the wind, and they both look up at the same time. A jolt passes between them, an undertow of pure want that pulls them in.
They give in without a second thought – it’s the obvious next step in their relationship and it feels absolutely natural. Devin drops the Zippo in Adam’s back pocket, slips the joint behind his ear, and cups his face in her hands. His hands settle at the small of her back like they’re returning home, and he pulls her close. “Kiss me, Adam Bianchi.”She had never stopped calling him by his full name ever since he first introduced himself to her, even now as he introduces himself to her lips. She’s warm under his lips, warm under his hands, a soft tremble of anticipation and her fingers stutter across his cheeks. He presses her against the brick wall, usual backdrop of all their firsts, only this time instead of a cigarette between her lips it’s his tongue, and her fingers aren’t lighting a lighter, they are lighting a blaze down his core. Same difference, really.
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It’s always been an issue of self-preservation. Ryan knew he couldn’t make a move on Shane. Shane was straight, Shane would reject him. It would take a toll on their friendship, on their work relationship. Everything Ryan worked so hard to achieve would crumble in an instant, in an ill-advised one-sided kiss. So Ryan puts up walls, puts up this façade of straightest dude alive, pushes the banter with Shane to an almost mean level, until he almost believes it himself.
Until that role of the straight bro takes up all the room, until there’s nowhere for Ryan’s actual personality to go.And then one morning there’s a shift in Shane. He walks in with a smile on his lips, instead of his usual exhaustion. He spends the entire day checking his phone with a dopey smile.A punch in Ryan’s gut. He hadn’t realized until then how Shane’s singleness comforted him. He knew Shane could never give him what he wanted, but the knowledge that he was the most important person in Shane’s life was enough.
Until now. Is Shane seeing someone? Sure looks like it.Ryan needs something, anything to distract him. A walk, some air, a coffee, something stronger, anything. Anything other than endlessly staring at a Shane who’d never notice him. His feet bring him to the break room, where Steven waits for the coffee machine, a look in his face that mirrors the ache in Ryan’s heart. “Sup, Steven,” he says, without much conviction. “Hey, Ryan,” Steven answers in the exact same tone. Adam walks in with an appreciative whistle. “Watch out, boys, you might wanna dial down the joy there, or you’ll pull a muscle.”This manages to pull a chuckle from both Ryan and Steven, and maybe that’s exactly what Ryan needs: a distraction. He waits until Adam filled his water bottle and walked out before turning to Steven. “Any plans for tonight?”Steven shrugs. “Falling asleep in front of Netflix, I guess.”“D’you wanna hang out, maybe?”“Sure beats being alone,” Steven answers, with a half smile. “Chipotle and b-ball? There’s a court near my place.”“I’m in.” Ryan finds himself really looking forward to this, the first thing that managed to take his mind off Shane in weeks. He spends the last hour of work nervously looking at his watch, shooting glances at Steven between his and Shane’s computer screens.At five on the dot, Steven takes off his headphones and stands up, and Ryan’s legs follow instinctively. He misses the puzzled look Andrew and Shane share, and if he saw it he wouldn’t have been able to make sense of it. They do a bit of small talk in the car and at the restaurant – sports, movies, some work projects, but Ryan can tell they’re skirting around the unsaid. They’re both here for a lack of something better to do – they are friends, but not that kind of one-on-one friends. They’re both here to numb the pain. And really, there’s only so much burritos can do to help with that.It’s better when they get on the court. Ryan can cope with anything as long as there’s concrete under his sneakers and a ball in his hands.They play one-on-one, and it feels like with every dribble of the ball, every exhale, ever bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, his heart hurts a little less.The sun has set for a while when they decide to take a break, sitting idly on the swings near the court. Crickets sing in the distance. A warm summer breeze plays along with Steven’s hair. Under the moonlight, his sweat-slicked skin glows, almost ethereal, and Ryan half wants to reach out and touch him, make sure he’s not a spirit.“You know that feeling, when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself something was impossible that it never even occurred to you to just try?” Steven says, swinging from side to side, almost bumping into Ryan’s swing.Ryan leans his head on the chain, revelling in the childhood scent of rusted metal. He knew the feeling all too well.“And then someone swoops in and does it?” Ryan answers, and he feels like he’s this close to solving it – only one puzzle piece missing.Steven nods and their eyes meet, and at once, the smoke clears and Ryan understands two things.
Shane and Andrew are together.
Steven is really pretty. And nice. And he makes Ryan feel good.
And maybe that’s all that matters. Maybe he should stop waiting for the impossible – ghosts, aliens, Shane’s love.He stands up, pulls Steven in by the chains of his swing, and, for once, takes a shot in the dark.“Can I kiss you?”
Steven’s smile eclipses the moon and stars as he fists a hand through Ryan’s jersey.“Yeah, okay.”
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You would become very easily addicted to drugs.
Steven wonders if Andrew knew, when he said it, that he would become the very drug Steven got addicted to. As months pass and Worth It gains in popularity, Andrew quickly becomes invested in the show, helping Steven work on it instead of just going along for the ride. They start spending most of their waking hours together, until Andrew leaves for two weeks on a well-deserved vacation.Steven feels like one of his own limbs got torn away. It takes everything he has not to beg him on his knees to stay.That’s a normal way to feel about your coworker, right?When Andrew comes back, Steven hugs him in greeting, and he can’t help but linger a few seconds longer than usual, taking all he can get from Andrew.Andrew pulls back and looks at Steven – has Andrew’s eyes always been this green? “Missed me?” Andrew grins and Steven’s brain shuts down.Missing is too weak a word for that ache that kept Steven awake for the past fourteen nights.Missing is too weak a word for the way Steven kept playing Worth It episodes in the background because Andrew’s voice in his ears was the only thing that kept him sane, allowed him to work.Missing is too weak a word for these tears wept at three in the morning when Steven panicked and convinced himself Andrew would never come back.Yet missing is too strong a word for a coworker that only went away for two weeks.Steven doesn’t know what to say so he says nothing. He shrugs, as if he never even noticed Andrew’s absence - it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. Pretending he doesn’t care about Andrew is like pretending he doesn’t need air to breathe. But Andrew doesn’t let go of Steven’s shoulders. Green eyes keep boring into his. “I missed you,” Andrew finally says. “Somehow I thought a plane flight without your annoying enthusiasm would be relaxing, but it was the opposite.”A flicker. A tiny shimmer in Steven’s heart. Something so many sleepless nights had snuffed, but Andrew’s words reignited it.Hope.Steven raises his eyebrows at Andrew’s, doesn’t trust himself to speak, but he needs him to keep talking.Andrew rakes a hand through his hair, looks at his feet. “Somehow I kept… looking for you? Like I kept talking to you and forgetting you weren’t there. You were like… a phantom limb, or something. It felt unnatural to be away from you.”Steven’s jaw drops, and he needs Andrew to look at him, he needs to be sure this is not a joke because it would absolutely kill him.And then Andrew looks up, and it is so not a joke – his eyes are alight with happiness and hope and that feeling you get when you finally find what you were looking for, and he says: “So let’s not do that anymore? Alright? Be away from each other?”Steven’s hands go straight to Andrew’s cheeks, he brings him closer. Their lips meet, unraveling all the unsaid, and it’s better than any drug in the universe. They are both hooked.
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Ben is nervous as hell as he walks in the tattoo parlor. The first time he got a tattoo was a drunken mistake, so he doesn’t much remember it. He never thought he’d ever have tattoos – he’s scared of needles, but he needs to coverup that first one, so here he is. He walks up to the front desk, nervously looking around. The place is hipstery, but cozy, lots of wood and leather and plants, nothing in common with the dark hole-in-the-wall where he first went. He rings the bell on the counter, looking at the art on the walls while he waits. You can see a certain cohesion between the pieces – they were all made by the same artist, obviously. They look like watercolor, with a lot of flowers and geometric shapes. Ben is really into it and he makes a mental note to thank his friend Steven who suggested the place. A red and black plaid curtain behind the counter is pushed aside and out comes the most gorgeous man Ben has ever set his eyes on. Tall, with broad, drool-worthy shoulders and a tiny waist, with the arms of a guy who obviously goes to the gym a lot. He’s dressed in a tight black button-down that makes his biceps just bulge out and actual suspenders and a bow tie – his arms are covered in tattoos, which make the whole outfit seem cool rather than nerdy. “What’s up, man, I’m Evan,” the man says and Ben is so busy staring at his tattoos he almost forgets to answer. “Um – I’m Ben. Hi.”“Is this your first tattoo?” Evan eyes his bare arms and fidgety demeanor. “A coverup, actually.” Ben rolls up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal, at the very top of his bicep, a small hand giving the middle finger and the words F U REBECCA. “I was drunk and recently dumped,” he mumbles, steeling himself for the upcoming judgemental look. Evan scoffs and shakes his head, but not at Ben. “Tattoo artists willing to work on someone drunk disgust me. They’re in it strictly for the money and they don’t care about the craft.”A warmth spreads through Ben’s chest – Evan looks offended on his behalf, and the feeling of someone caring for him after months alone is making him dizzy. Evan pulls a pad and a pen, guides him to a corner with a table and chairs.
He quickly doodles Ben’s existent tattoo. “Do you have an idea of what you want?”Ben shrugs. “I guess I don’t really know how tattoo works? Especially coverups? Like what can you do?”“I can either incorporate these lines into something else so they become invisible, or cover it with a dark patch we’d work into the design. This would likely be more painful because we’d have a lot of filling in to do.”Ben nods. “I’m a bit… afraid of needles? So the less pain the better.”Evan nods, already deep in thought. He asks Ben a few questions about what he likes, how his childhood was, and for a while it almost feels like a date – like they’re getting to know each other. Evan listens intently, sometimes doodling an idea – he seems genuinely interested and it makes Ben blush. After a while, Evan turns away to hide the pad from Ben and keeps drawing, grabbing color pencils from a nearby shelf. “What do you think?” he asks at last, pushing the pad across the table. Ben is speechless. Evan has drawn a tall pine tree, half in color and half in black geometric lines. The drawing immediately conjures up memories of Ben’s Gramps. He’d told Evan how Ben’s grandfather had build their childhood home and planted a pine tree, but it got sick and they had to cut it down around the time of Gramps death. The idea of having the tree, of having his Gramps live on his arm forever makes Ben’s eyes well up. “Man…” His throat closes around the word and he can’t say anything else. Evan smiles, and it’s soft and beautiful and Ben should maybe stop feeling everything so much. “You like it? This part would be in a watercolor effect, I couldn’t fully convey it in pencil.” He points at the colored part. “And these lines right here, that’s where we hide the former tattoo.” The previous tattoo completely disappears through the geometric lines. Ben’s impressed and he can’t wait to get Evan’s art etched in his skin forever. “So listen,” Evan says, and Ben manages to tear his gaze from the pad to listen to him. “The whole afternoon is booked, but I can squeeze you in tomorrow at four. Does that work for you?”Ben’s mind stumble over the words “squeeze you” and he feels his cheeks and neck heat up. He’s a bit disappointed not to leave the place with a tattoo, but he’s excited to have a reason to see Evan again. “Tomorrow it is, then!” he says cheerfully. It feels weird to just leave like that because it seems like they’ve gotten to know each other so much over the past hour, but like, a handshake is too formal, a hug too friendly, a kiss on the cheek – although Ben would absolutely love that – too romantic. So he just stares at Evan a bit too long, pats him on the shoulder and feels the most awkward he’s ever felt in his life. “See ya,” he says, but he can’t seem to move his feet. “Can’t wait,” Evan answers and Ben’s brain goes into overdrive.
Does he mean that? Is he just being nice? Is it just a phrase?
Great, now Ben is just standing still in the tattoo parlor and Evan’s smirks, amused. “Okay, bye,” Ben says, finally managing to move his feet. “Bye.” Evan seems like he’s trying hard not to laugh and Ben walks out, half cursing himself and half daydreaming about Evan’s smile. Ben spends the next day in a frantic daze – unable to focus on anything for longer than 3 minutes. He ends up scrubbing his entire kitchen – it was the only task that allowed him to think about Evan as much as he wanted. He changes his whole outfit three times before being satisfied, muttering “It’s not a date, get a grip” with clenched teeth the whole time. He gets to the tattoo parlor almost a half hour too early, even though he does a double take in front of a flower shop – “it’s not a date,” he repeats through gritted teeth. He finally goes to get coffee at Crimson, the coffee shop across the street, to while away the last half hour and calm down, when an idea strikes him. “Hey, you wouldn’t know Evan, by any chance?”“Tattoo guy? Yeah he’s a regular.”“Do you know his coffee order?”“Venti soy mocha.”“I’ll take one of those, too, then.” It’s not a date, his brain pipes up. Is it Ben’s imagination or does Evan’s face lights up as he walks in?
It’s not a date.
You’re reaching.
Ben does his best not to pay attention to the nagging voice as he hands the coffee to Evan. “Hey, uh, this is for you.”Evan grins. “Thanks man!” He takes a sip. “Soy mocha? How did you know?”Ben shrugs. “Lucky guess.”Evan guides to the next room, points at the chair. “Well, then, let’s see that shoulder, shall we?”Ben looks down at his clothes and curses himself. He’d been so nervous about what to wear he completely forgot his shoulder needed to be accessible – he’s wearing a dark blue button down with rolled-up sleeves. He’s going to need to take it off completely and Evan will think he planned the whole thing so he’d be shirtless. “I should have worn short sleeves,” Ben chuckles awkwardly, feeling Evan’s gaze on him as his fingers stutter over the buttons. “It’s okay, man. I mean I’ve tattooed butts before, it’s nothing I haven’t seen already.” Of course, his dick of a brain chooses to focus on the idea of Evan tattooing his butt one day. He timidly shrugs off his shirt, self-consciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other while twisting his shirt in his hands, unsure what to do with it. “Do you want me to…?” Evan holds out his hand, pointing at his shirt. “Oh, sure, thanks.” Their hands meet through the fabric and a chill goes up Ben’s spine – he hopes he doesn’t get goosebumps because there’s no way Evan wouldn’t see it. Evan sets the shirt on a coat hanger and gathers up his supplies while Ben takes place on the chair. The nervousness from being half naked next to Evan quickly gives way to a nervousness about the actual tattooing, now that he sees Evan’s supplies. After the stencil transfer is done, however, and he can see Gramps’ tree on his arm, he can feel his doubts melt away. Yeah, it might hurt like a bitch, but damn if it won’t be worth it. At first it really does hurt, but after a while the pain kind of dulls away and he’s left with the very acute awareness off Evan’s hand hovering next to his bicep, of the feel of his fingers when he’s dabbing at the ink, even through the pad and the latex gloves. Ben starts chatting away, trying to distract his brain from these thoughts, at least until the tattoo is done. “I can’t wait to see it, man, it’s gonna look so good; you know, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would; I like to think if Gramps saw it he’d think you’re doing a pretty good job with his tree…” He goes on and on and doesn’t realize he’s doing it until he sees Evan cracks a smile. “What?”“Nothing. It’s just – you talk a lot, don’t you?”Ben feels his cheeks heating up. “I get that a lot. Sorry – I’ll shut up now.”“No! I mean – you don’t have to. I kinda like it actually. It’s cute.”Ben’s cheeks are actual fires by now. “That’s cute too – you turning red.” Evan has an amused grin on his face and Ben suddenly realizes he’s not tattooing anymore. He looks over at his shoulder.
“Is it done?”“What? Oh, yeah I finished like ten minutes ago. I just wanted you to keep talking.” It’s Evan’s turn to look flustered. “How about I keep talking over a beer?”“I’d like that,” Evan says, his voice all breathy, and suddenly he’s right there in front of Ben. Ben doesn’t think about it – he just got a tattoo, he can handle anything – and kisses Evan, hard and wet and a little desperate, but Evan’s smiling against his lips and he knows he’s into it. Behind Evan’s head there’s a mirror and Ben can see the final result. “Wow,” he says. “Yeah,” Evan breathes out, resting their foreheads together, chest heaving. “I meant the tattoo.”
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As soon as the bell stops ringing above the record store door, Justin forgets what he walked in for. He’s so used to see Jen behind the counter – he’s even got a coffee he made her just before leaving work – he’s not sure what to do when he sees she’s not here today. There’s a new guy behind the counter and he’s – well, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. He’s tall and muscular with gorgeous blonde hair, but the whole stud look is balanced by the mischievous, welcoming grin on his face. Like, his good looks are inviting rather than intimidating. “Hey man, what can I do for you?” Even his voice is nice. Justin has got it bad. “Just – just browsing,” he mumbles, making a beeline for a bin of records to look busy while he tries to calm down. Justin knows this store like the back of his hand but somehow in his haste he plonked himself in front of the pop section, of all things. He looks through it idly, each act seeming more insipid than the next. Footsteps near him and that damn voice again. “Timberlake, uh? I’m a JT fan, too – have you heard his last album?”Justin looks down at the record he’d picked up distractedly. “Justin,” he says. “Yeah, Timberlake.”“I mean – my name’s Justin.”“Oh, hey – I’m Zack.” He holds out a fist an Justin bumps it. “Hold on.”He turns back towards a New Arrivals display and comes back with a bright orange CD. “You listened to it yet?”Justin pretends to look at the cover art but really he’s just leaning in closer to Zack. He smells like coffee and laundry detergent and the knowledge feels so intimate Justin grows red before he remembers Zack asked him a question. “Um – I haven’t got the chance to, not yet.” It’s technically not a lie. Zack twirls the album between his hands a few times, eyeing Justin. “I’ve got it at home, maybe you could come over and listen to it?”Justin’s eyes widen. “That – that would be nice.” He leaves the shop empty handed and it’s only when he reaches home that he remembers what he actually went to the store for. The last album of Mayday Mountains, his favourite indie folk band.Ryan Brogara - you’ve seen that dude for five minutes and you’re going to his place??? bro you gonna get murdered Justin knew Ryan would jump to ‘serial killer’ as soon as he knew, but, just in case he was right, Justin thought it best to tell at least one person where he’d be.Every thought of serial killers vanishes, however, when Zack opens the door. His whole face lights up with a grin, and he looks genuinely happy to see Justin. “Hey man, come on in!”“Um, I brought beer,” Justin awkwardly hands him a six-pack he picked up on the way. “Thanks man – sit down, make yourself at home,” he says pointing at the couch. He takes two beers out of the box and walks away to put the rest in the fridge. Zack puts on the CD, immediately raises his eyebrows at Justin like isn’t it great?Justin nods, cracks a smile. This is so not his kind of music, but Zack just looks so excited about it, bouncing up and down like he just wants to get up and dance, Justin can’t bring himself to say so. Plus, Zack is sitting quite close to him on the couch – their thighs are almost touching – so Justin doesn’t want it to end. They have a few beers and Zack plays the album from the beginning two more times – “You can’t really form an opinion from only one listen, is what I always say.”Justin’s opinion hasn’t really changed since the first listen: not his cup of tea, but he’d listen to it a thousand times if it meant Zack kept sliding closer and closer to him on the couch like he’s doing. It’s probably just the beer, but Justin feels at last comfortable enough to speak up. “You know, I don’t really give a crap about Timberlake. I actually came in to buy Mayday Mountains’ new release.”Zack gasps mockingly. “How dare you, sir?” But he immediately chuckles. “I know, dude, it’s obvious.”“It is?” Justin looks up from the half-ripped label of his beer bottle, mouth agape. “Yeah, I mean, you look more interested in the beer and – ” Zack stops himself.
Justin sees the look in his eyes that says I’m fucked, tastes the unsaid in the thick air between them. “Yeah,” he breathes out, slowly closing the space between them. Their lips meet as the record ends, and Justin doesn’t know what he welcomes more: the silence, the taste of Zack’s lips, or the way his fingers keep the beat on Justin’s hip long after the song fades. And then Zack moans into his mouth and it sounds better than any album ever recorded.
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Niki and TJ drove into town for groceries and a beer run, so it’s the ideal moment to film Garrett taking a shower, and to film his end of day thoughts. There’s no privacy in an RV, no silence, and it’s proven a bitch to shoot – they either have to ask everyone to be quiet for a while, or deal with too much background noise. Eli keeps telling himself that shooting conditions are the only reason he’s glad to be alone with Garrett. But then it’s time to film Garrett in the shower – and really, whoever thought that was a good idea for a recurring segment should be fired. Or maybe get a raise. Garrett’s keeping his swimming trunks on, sure, but there’s still miles and miles of skin and muscle just tantalizing Eli, and then Garrett is wet and his hair hangs on his forehead in a way that makes Eli want to just wreck him. He turns off the camera and walks out of the RV for the actually-showering part, the part where Garrett drops his shorts. For the next ten minutes Eli can’t focus on anything but the fact that on the other side of that too-thin wall, Garrett is naked. And, like, they’ve worked together for a long time, they’re traveling together, and Eli has always had a bit of a crush – he’s just so tall! – but he’s never been this enthralled by him. But like, the combination of being alone together, seeing him all wet, knowing he’s naked – it’s all just coming together to fuck Eli up.Garrett peeks his head out. “Hey man, I’m ready.”For a second Eli completely forgets what this is about – he’s also very much ready, for about anything Garrett would agree to – but he realizes Garrett’s talking about filming his end of day thoughts. “I’ll be right in,” Eli says, wondering if it’s obvious he’s got a raging boner down his pants. When he walks back in, Garrett is perched in his bunk in nothing but a soft-looking grey tee and a pair of boxer shorts. He’s looking at his phone, casually leaning on his side, water dripping from his hair in rivulets down his neck, glasses on. Eli tries not to show that this sight makes his heart stop for half a second and busies himself setting up his tripod. He presses record, and Garrett starts talking about his day and his friendship with Niki. Eli doesn’t have a lot to do since it’s a still shot, so he gets lost watching Garrett. Everything about this feels intimate – the dim light, Garrett’s soft appearance, the fact that he’s baring his heart – everything except that there’s a camera between them and they’re just doing their jobs. Garrett trails off – he nods at the camera, a soft “cut” on his lips, but doesn’t move. Eli turns off the camera, as gently, as quietly as he can – some kind of spell has been woven here and if he plays his cards right, he might get what he wants. He walks up to Garrett’s bunk, slowly, every move carefully calculated not to spook him. He doesn’t know what to say – every line that comes to mind feels forced, awkward, so he keeps his mouth shut. Garrett still doesn’t move, his whole body turned towards Eli, his chest heaving with every breath, with every step Eli take, until they’re face to face, separated only by a few inches of mattress. Eli can’t help but notice the bunk is the exact right height for him to lean over and kiss Garrett. Or blow him, his dirty mind thinks and he tries hard not to blush. “Hi,” Garrett breathes out quietly, and this is the first time Eli allows himself to believe this was not all in his head. Garrett takes a deep breath and his chest heaves in a way that makes it look like he’s getting closer and that’s the push Eli needed to fist a hand through that soft grey t-shirt. Garrett’s hand closes around his, gaze staring deep into Eli’s. Eli’s breath stutters in his throat and his entire mind says fuck it.He pulls Garrett in by his shirt, and their lips meet finally, warm and a bit frantic.Garrett’s hand finds the back of Eli’s neck, pressing just hard enough to keep him close, and the possessiveness of it makes Eli’s knees wobble. He breaks the kiss, teeth pulling at Garrett’s bottom lip. A single thought crowds his mind and he has to voice it. “Can I blow you?”Garrett chuckles. “I mean, be my guest.” Garrett kicks off his boxers and sits up in the bunk, legs dangling off it on either side of Eli’s head. It’s a tight fit and he has to keep his neck crooked, but Eli guesses that’s a small price to pay to get your dick sucked. It’s everything Eli had hoped. Garrett makes little whiney moans in the back of his throat, fingers stuttering on Eli’s neck, and it drives Eli out of his mind – he starts palming himself through his jeans: this is all too much. At some point Garrett falls back on the bed, arms thrown across his face, struggling not to buck up in Eli’s mouth. Eli knows this is the final stretch and gives it all he’s got. He hears a soft click but doesn’t think much of it – he’s in the zone, frantically rutting against his own palm. They climax with twin growls. Eli rests his cheek against Garrett’s thigh, panting. Garrett sits up but freeze. “Hand the tissues, will you?” Eli turns around so quick he almost gets whiplash. TJ’s leaning against the door, in a similar sticky situation to what’s happening in Eli’s pants. “Don’t worry, Niki’s still outside. Your secret’s safe with me.”Garrett’s hands slide over Eli’s shoulders. He sounds mischievous when he says: “Maybe next time he can join us.”Eli’s brain just about melts down.
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Ryan’s blood is pumping, his breaths coming out in loud gasps, hands shaking. He should know better than to pull a prank on TJ Marchbank – he does know better, but somehow he can’t help it.He’s eager to see the look on TJ’s face when he discovers every single thing on his desk wrapped in layers of plastic food wrap.Ryan knows he’s probably gonna get his ass kicked, but somehow he feels giddy as well as terrified. He finds a good hiding spot behind a file cabinet, close enough to see TJ’s reaction, but far enough to have some head start if he needs to run. He looks at his watch: another five minutes and TJ should be at his desk – the man is like clockwork. Ryan spends the next five minutes almost vibrating out of his skin, pressing a fist to his mouth to quiet the hysterical giggles menacing to spill out. He’s glad the office is almost empty – no one questions his crouching in a corner. …but if no one’s here that means no one can save him from TJ’s wrath.
Ryan did not think this through. The elevator dings and Ryan almost pees himself. He has to actually bite down on his hand not to scream. Footsteps. A quiet “what the fuck?”The ruffling tumble of plastic wrapped items being tossed around. A growl that raises shivers down Ryan’s spine. “Ryan Bergara, I’m gonna kill you!”Ryan can’t keep quiet anymore. He lets out a hysterical laugh and bolts it, making a beeline for the door to the stairwell. “Fuck fuck fuck no no no no!”Ryan is about to lose it, running down the stairs two steps at a time. Blood rushes to his ears. Every single one of his senses is finely attuned to the rapidly closing distance between TJ and him. A hand closes on his shoulder and he shrieks, whirling around to face TJ. TJ grabs him by the shirt and pins him against the wall. Their chests heave in sync, grazing together with every breath. TJ’s eyes are dark, dangerous. Ryan gulps. He’s about to get his ass kicked, and no one can hear him scream. “How did you know it was me?” he asks in a strangled, high-pitched voice, just to gain some time. “Saw your car in the parking lot. Your bag at your desk. Sloppily executed plan, really.” TJ scoffs, a warm breath against Ryan’s lips. Ryan’s tongue darts out of its own accord, as if he could somehow taste TJ’s breath on his lips. His brain is still foggy with panic, he can’t think of anything to do. He tries to escape, to duck under TJ’s arm, but they just end up even closer together. TJ’s entire body is flush against Ryan’s.TJ raises an amused eyebrow and somehow that makes him look even more dangerous. “Looks like someone is dying to get punished.”He says that last word real close to Ryan’s lips, and it’s only then that Ryan realizes he’s never been this hard. That he’s been hard since he was hiding behind that file cabinet. He couldn’t say why.And now his cock is very closely trapped between him and TJ. Evidently, TJ seems to have noticed Ryan’s predicament even before Ryan did… and somehow he doesn’t seem to mind?Ryan doesn’t know if he wants to push TJ away or pull him closer but his hands bunch up in TJ’s shirt. He freezes like this for half a second, trying to make up his mind, when TJ’s fingers snap around his wrists, swiftly lifting them above his head. “You need to learn,” TJ growls, eyes raking over his biceps, “not to touch,” he licks a trail up Ryan’s neck, “what doesn’t belong to you.”At this, he takes Ryan’s panting mouth in a ravaging kiss, easily restraining both of Ryan’s wrist with one large hand while the other slides under the hem of his shirt.Ryan is turning into a whining mess, hips stuttering to find friction against TJ’s elusive hips, eyes clenched shut, panting into TJ’s mouth. “Please,” he keens. “Are you gonna be good?”“I will, I’m sorry, just touch me!”TJ lets go of Ryan’s arms to undo his belt buckle and his fly. As soon as his hand wraps around Ryan’s cock, Ryan moans, hands cupping TJ’s face to pull him back for a kiss. TJ’s free hand is up in a flash. The other stills on his cock. “I said,” he growls, deliberately peeling Ryan’s hands from his face and pinning them against the wall again, “you do not touch what doesn’t belong to you.”Something in TJ’s tone, in the way he looks at Ryan like he could snap him in two without breaking a sweat, makes Ryan even more desperate. He bucks up into TJ’s hand, eager for release, more aroused than he’s ever felt before. TJ smirks. A few pumps of his wrist and a bruise expertly sucked into Ryan’s neck and Ryan’s coming undone, knees buckling, kept up only by TJ’s hold on his wrists. TJ wipes his hand on Ryan’s shirt. With one last dizzying kiss, he’s gone. “Make sure you unwrap that shit on my desk by the time my meeting’s over.”
Ryan can only nod, the empty stairwell his only witness.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Adam, Devin and Chantel are at their favourite bar – a queer club where no one bats an eye about poly couples, and no one gives a shit about them being “famous Buzzfeed people”. They can be themselves there – enjoy their triad, or pick up someone new to discover for the night. Tonight, they’re taking it slow – not really looking for anyone else, just enjoying good beer and each other, their senses pleasantly numbed by the blunt they just smoked in the alley outside. Dance music is pulsing all around them – the dance floor is packed, but they’re happy sitting in their booth for now. The crowd of bodies part for a while and Chantel sees a sight that has her gripping at her lovers’ thighs, her mouth agape, unable to breathe. Evan Ghang and Ben Coleman, their coworkers, are locked in an tight embrace on the dance floor, grinding against each other so frantically it’s almost sinful. Ben’s tight white t-shirt is sticking to his skin, almost see-through with sweat. Evan, on the other hand, is just as sweaty but he’s not wearing a shirt. Chantel can see that, like many other men in this club, he took it off and shoved the end of it into his waistband. Evan has always been one of the hottest men at Buzzfeed, but with his shirt off? That was just unfair. “Fuck,” Adam says breathlessly. Devin, as always, is not shy about her arousal. She lets out a long whistle and fans herself with her hands. “Do you think we can score both?” Devin asks, the thrill of the chase evident in her wide eyes and luminous grin. “Yes, please,” Adam answers, words strangled in his throat. They both look at Chantel expectantly. She drains the last of her beer and smirks. “Think they’d go for it?” Bodies thrumming in time to the music, pressing around them as they make their way to the couple currently occupying their every thought. Devin is the first to reach them. She settles her hands in the crook of Ben’s hips, easily falling into rhythm with him. She meets Evan’s eyes above Ben’s shoulder. Evan does a double take at seeing her here, but she winks and he doesn’t break the beat, instead tangling their fingers together on Ben’s hips. Ben was about to turn around to look at the newcomer when arms wrap around Evan’s chest – Chantel just plastered herself against his back, moving in beat with the music. “Fancy seeing you here,” Devin drawls in Ben’s ear. Ben turns around at the voice, startled. Evan and he didn’t think they run into people from work here. They thought they’d be able to enjoy one night without hiding their relationship. “Join us for a drink?” Adam slinks in from behind Devin, trailing a finger up Ben’s arm. Ben and Evan exchange a glance. Evan raises an interested eyebrow, looking pointedly at Chantel’s hands still splayed across his bare chest. “Sure,” Ben says, still a bit unsure, but the way Devin grins – joy and hunger mixed together on her lips – kinda makes him want to do whatever she asks. They make their way back to their table. Evan puts his shirt back on, and all four of them share a relieved sigh – it was getting increasingly hard not to jump his bones right then and there. Adam joins them a minute later with a pitcher of beer and five glasses. “Come here often?” Chantel asks as he pours. “It’s our first time,” Evan says. “We were looking for someplace… out of the way?”Devin looks at them coyly over her glass. “You boys are too pretty to be hiding like that.” She can see Ben blushing even in the dim lighting. “What about you? Why do you come here?” Ben asks. “Because no one gives us shit for being poly,” Adam says matter-of-factly, putting a hand on Chantel’s thigh and an arm around Devin’s waist. Devin leans in conspiratorially across the table. “And because we always find people willing to play with us.” She winks and leans back into Adam, sipping her beer as if nothing happened. Ben’s eyes widen, looking at each of them in turn, wondering if his mind’s playing tricks on him. He turns to Evan, who doesn’t look surprised, just aroused. They have a silent conversation – raised eyebrows, shrugs and nods – during which Adam, Devin and Chantel try to act casual, like they’re not all keeping their fingers crossed under the table, like they routinely proposition coworkers in bars. Ben and Evan finally turn back to them. Ben drains the rest of his beer for courage. Evan leans in to Chantel, closest to him. “Can I kiss you?”Devin’s hand is already fisting Ben’s shirt to pull him in when Adam high-fives her under the table.
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Chantel really thought that by the time she hit 25, she’d have her shit together and stop falling for straight girls. It’s stupid, it can’t lead anywhere, and it’s a surefire way to get your heart broken. But no matter how many times her brain repeats it’s a bad idea, her heart is just utterly gone for Freddie Ransome. Chantel starts speeding to work in the mornings because she can’t wait to see Freddie. Freddie who walks in every morning looking flawless and always cheerful, that bright smile illuminating her features and the whole office. Freddie, who always has a good word for Chantel every time she sees her, who’s constantly making Chantel blush with her compliments. Compliments that are, sadly, nothing but friendly, but Chantel clings to every single one of them, turning them over and over in her brain. Kinda the same way she twirls that lipstick in her hands. Kiss Me Silly, it’s called. The one she stole from Freddie. The one she wears when she wants to pretend they’ve kissed. Freddie never noticed, of course. She has so many lipsticks she can’t keep track of them all. “Chanti!!!” Freddie calls out when she walks in. “Yes lipstick!!! Oh my god I love that shade on you! What is it?”Dread fills Chantel as she holds out the tube, hoping she won’t notice, hoping she’ll just assume they got the same one. “Hey I’ve got the same in that shade!” Freddie exclaims. “It’s a very popular lipstick,” Chantel mumbles.It’s not. Chantel had in fact never heard of it before she stole it. She turns back to her laptop before Freddie starts asking more questions. “Ok girl. Bathroom meeting, now.”Chantel has no choice. It’s a Ladylike rule. If a Lady calls a bathroom meeting, it’s mandatory. She reluctantly follows Freddie, trying to school her features into a calm, open expression – and if that fails she can just blame it on her resting bitch face. Freddie closes and locks the bathroom door behind Chantel – locking the door for a bathroom meeting, that’s new – and stays up close, right up in Chantel’s face hand still on the lock. “Chanti,” she starts, in a what the hell am I gonna do with you tone, “how many times are you gonna brush off my compliments before you realize I’m into you?”Chantel splutters. “What – I – you – I mean, you’re straight! You’ve only ever dated guys!”“And you’ve hated every single one of them. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”“You’re not into girls!” Chantel still protests. “That’s cause they’re not you.”Freddie is even closer, now. If Chanel turns her face even the slightest bit, they’ll be kissing. “Why didn’t you ever say something?”“Didn’t wanna ruin our friendship. But you know what? Fuck it. Let’s ruin it and build something even better on top of it.”Of their own accord, Chantel’s hands fist into Freddie’s shirt, and before she knows it she’s twirling them around, pinning Freddie against the door and their lips meet – Kiss Me Silly smudges and Chantel’s only thought is of how aptly named it is.
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It’s not fair.
Who does Eugene thinks he is, really? Walking in this party looking all flawless and amazing and gorgeous?Ugh. Zach grabs another beer because he’s too sober to deal with that shit. He goes to sit with Steven, on the opposite side of the room from Eugene – that might be the best plan if Zach wants to resist Eugene’s magnetic field. He spends the night talking to everyone but Eugene – he knows if he gets close to him he’ll do something he’ll regret and everything will change. Zach is a few beers in when Eugene corners him on his way to the bathroom. A dark corridor. The thump of the music downstairs in time with Zach’s quickening heartbeat. Eugene’s fingers tangle through his, chest heaving against his. “You’re avoiding me.”Zach takes on a deep voice, a poor imitation of Eugene’s but he can’t bring himself to care. “Ooh I’m Eugene! I’m perfect and flawless so everyone’s world must revolve around me.”Eugene, of course, isn’t deterred by Zach’s attitude. He just smirks in that maddening way of his, and seriously, could he not?Zach hates how with one look, Eugene can turn his entire world upside down. He hates how he would do anything Eugene asked. He hates how all this is true even though he knows he can never have him. So he puts on this act, pretends not to like him, but Eugene always sees right through it. Because yes, Zach’s whole world revolves around him, and yes, he was avoiding him, because hell knows he doesn’t need to make an ass of himself by getting drunk and throwing himself at Eugene. Except isn’t this just what’s happening right now? Zach blinks and rewinds the scene in his mind.
No it’s not.
He was minding his own business, and Eugene’s the one who pressed in close, the one who wove their fingers together. The one waiting patiently while Zach’s putting two and two together, as if he had all the time in the world. Well, shit. He doesn’t know who makes the first move but soon they’re tumbling into the bathroom, locking the door behind them, and Zach hops on the counter and Eugene stands between his legs and they’re pawing at each other’s clothes, lips and tongues on a discovery journey together. And then he manages to get Eugene’s shirt open and even though they’ve seen each other naked dozens of times, it’s not the same now because it’s charged with meaning and intent. A jolt runs through Zach’s spine and he can’t resist the urge – he latches onto Eugene’s skin. He needs to taste him, to mark him, to make him a little less perfect and a little more wrecked. He leaves the hickey below his clavicle, further down his chest, so that Eugene will be able to hide it easily – they’re filming a video tomorrow. Nothing about their drunken escapade is subtle – for one thing, the Try Guys are incapable of hiding things from each other. But even if they could… They get to work together, both looking hungover but weirdly cheerful, Eugene’s looking, for once, barely put together, in some workout clothes he found in his car, with a beanie he stole from Zach because he didn’t have his hair products with him. You know, the very picture of someone who slept out. And then there’s the hickey. Zach had made sure it could be easily covered. But the only tank top Eugene found in his car was sinfully low cut. He does put on a hoodie, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to occur to him to actually zip it. The red, angry bruise is on display for the world to see – literally, since it’s gonna be on YouTube. “You wanna zip up, there, Eugene?” Ned asks as he sets up the camera. “Why?” Ned stammers, points as his chest, but as Eugene slowly raises an unfazed eyebrow, he shuts up. “No reason.”Zach is getting steadily redder under Eugene’s heated gaze. He’d done everything he could to make sure Eugene could hide it, could hide how Zach claimed him, but he’s having none of it. A burst of pride rushes over Zach. After all this pining, all these maddening games, Eugene was finally his and didn’t care who knew. Zach’s world slipped back into place, steady at last, thanks to the very man who had spun it out of axis.
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Andrew didn’t expect waking up next to Shane Madej to become a common occurrence, and then something he looked forward to, but one day he wakes up and realizes he’s in a relationship with Shane. It’s funny, really – or maybe just bittersweet? This started out as a distraction. A drunken tumble to forget the fact that they were both hopelessly in love with someone else. Steven and Ryan. But they woke up the next morning, and instead of the expected dread and fumbling to run away from the mistake, they both just smiled and pulled each other in closer. It wasn’t what they’d wanted but it was what they’d needed. Days passed and it felt right, it felt cozy, and most of all it felt incredibly better than the numb torture Andrew had been subjected to every day for months, when he saw Steven. Before he knows it, Shane becomes the reason for Andrew’s smiles, the reason he wakes up in the morning. His boyfriend. They don’t talk about Ryan and Steven again, but it’s still somehow in the back of Andrew’s head. It pops whenever Shane and Ryan are working on something at their desks, and their old complicity shows in every move, in ever laugh, in every playful punch of Ryan on Shane’s shoulder when he makes a terrible joke. And Andrew stops and watch. Ryan Bergara.The man his boyfriend used to be in love with. Still is in love with?Andrew doesn’t know. They don’t talk about it. Maybe they should. Andrew wants to see what Shane sees in Ryan. He wants to understand. Because Steven seems to be hanging around Ryan a lot these days, and maybe Shane and Steven both see something in Ryan that Andrew’s never seen.So Andrew watches, day after day. It’s not an obsession, he tells himself, it’s research. He collects information – snippets of Ryan’s days he plays back to himself afterwards. And then he sees it. Smiles and laughs and dedication. A boyish need to believe that almost borders on naivety but is oh so endearing. A body that can only be described as hot as hell. Andrew gets it. And maybe he feels it too, now. Ryan’s irresistible pull.He keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t think Ryan notices. Until one night when he’s working late. The office is empty, lit only by Andrew’s desk lamp. There’s no bottle of whiskey in his desk drawer. He never replaced the one Shane emptied. He didn’t need to. Nevertheless, the déjà vu feels eerie when he hears footsteps behind him. Ryan coming out of Ghouls HQ. And dropping into Steven’s chair. Just like Shane did three months ago. And look where it led.“What’s up, Andrew?”Andrew shrugs, nods at his screen. “Work.”“I meant,” and Ryan rolls closer in the chair, “What’s up with us?”“Us?”There’s no us. There can’t be an us.Andrew and Ryan are nothing more that coworkers, friends, who, by some weird twist of fate, both fuck the person the other wanted.That’s all.“I’ve seen you staring, Andrew.”Fuck.Before he can realize what he’s doing, he’s rolled his chair closer to Ryan, leaning in his seat.Their knees are bumping, he can feel Ryan’s breath on his lips, and a battle is taking place in Andrew’s mind.
Shane never said they were exclusive.
Exclusive or not, that’s the man he’s in love with, you dickhead!
His eyes snap back open – he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them.Ryan seems to be having the same inner turmoil, eyes widening with a gasp.“We can’t.”“Jesus, what’s wrong with us?” Ryan rolls away, gets up to pace, hands raking through his hair.Andrew hates that he notices how Ryan’s arms bulge in this tight t-shirt.He hates that that’s what his brain chooses to focus on.He hates that all he wants is for Ryan to come back in his seat and pick up where they left off.He hates what he’s about to say, even though it might be the most sensible thought he’s had through this whole ordeal.“Maybe we should talk. The four of us.”“And say what?” Ryan looks like he’s about to lose it, and Andrew hates that he knows what to do because of all the time he’s spent with Steven. “Sorry Steven, I almost made out with the man you’re in love with?”Everything Andrew was about to do to help Ryan out of his anxiety spiral flies out of his head.
Steven – Steven’s in love with Andrew?
How the fuck did his life get so twisted?He leans back in his chair, shaking with uncontrollable, silent laughter – the kind that brings actual tears to his eyes.Ryan stops pacing, looking so insulted Andrew laughs even harder.“Care to explain what’s so hilarious in this situation?”It takes Andrew a minute to reign in his laughter, and even then there’s no erasing the grin on his face as he explains.“I’ve been in love with Steven for years. Shane’s in love with you, and if I’m not mistaken, the feeling’s mutual? I think, if we just talk to our boyfriends, for once, we might end up having a lot of fun.”Ryan couldn’t look more mind-blown unless his head actually exploded in the middle of the office.“Shane - wait, really?”Andrew nods. “Apparently the four of us should really learn to talk about our feelings.”“Yeah, no kidding.”Andrew stands up and bridges the space between them, cupping Ryan’s face softly. “Think it counts as cheating if we’re on the verge of a potential foursome?”
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Shane Madej has always been a little obsessed with Steven Lim’s smile. You see, the thing is – Steven is a dichotomy. He has two entirely different personas depending on who’s around him. With strangers, he’s shy, closed off, taking as little space as possible. With his close friends he’s dorky, hyper and really affectionate, and his smile – well, his smile could probably power the whole city. When he smiles, stars spark through his dark eyes and you can’t help smiling along with him.The problem is that when it comes to Shane, Steven never seems able to make up his mind about which persona he should adopt. Sometimes he’s closed-off, aloof, and Shane would do anything to see that bright smile again. Other times he’s friendly and affectionate and Shane damn near melts inside because he genuinely can’t tell what he did to get Steven to smile at him.Today, Steven’s shy. Barely looks up when Shane drops down on the hood of his car beside him. They’re in the office parking lot after a long day, and Shane assumes Steven’s waiting for Ryan – he heard him saying he’d be working late tonight, something about new developments in a case he had to research. Shane himself is waiting for Andrew, but he might just go get some food and come back to surprise him. Or at least that was his plan before he saw Steven sitting on the hood of his car, scrolling through his phone. Maybe it’s this weird situation they’ve gotten themselves in – where they both ended up with the person the other wanted – but Shane really wants to figure Steven out.“Hey, Steven?”“Hm?”“Can I ask you a question?”Steven slides his phone in the pocket of his jacket, sits up a bit straighter, looking puzzled.“Do you feel comfortable around me?”Steven almost falls off the car. “Um, what?”“You know, sometimes you’re really friendly, and sometimes… not so much.”Steven turns bright red. “Maybe – maybe I’m a bit intimidated by you so I don’t know how to act around you?”“Intimidated. By me?” Steven scoffs. “Um, of course. Come on, you’re Shane Madej! You’re gorgeous, and cool – everyone likes you, and you don’t give a damn about what people think of you!”Shane’s eyes widen. He can’t believe Steven sees him like that – he’s not cool, he’s a dork, he gets stuck in his own damn head, he obsesses over whether his coworker smiles or doesn’t smile at him… hold on, did Steven call him gorgeous?But Steven’s not finished. He looks in the distance, and softly – maybe Shane wasn’t even supposed to hear him – he adds: “You’ve got Andrew.”Shane turns to look at him. “You’ve got Ryan.”Steven looks down at his hands, wringing his fingers together. “It’s pretty messed up, huh?”“Doesn’t have to be.”“What do you mean?”“ I like you, Steven. Like, a lot. Of course, we’d have to talk to our boys, but I wouldn’t mind…” Shane rakes a hand through his hair, wondering how the hell he can say this without scaring Steven away. “I wouldn’t mind sharing.”Steven’s eyes are almost bulging out of his head. “Are you talking about…?” Steven can’t say it. “All four of us dating? Yeah, maybe. At the very least I think it’s about time we stop pining in secret and start talking about it.”Steven looks pensive for a while but then he nods and looks up at Shane.The smile is back. Stars in his eyes that feel like they’re meant for Shane and Shane only.He leans in and a presses a chaste kiss to Shane’s cheek.“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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Aria will try anything once. It’s the greatest thing about him but it’s also the worst. It probably will lead Fernando to his downfall someday.So when Devin walks up to Aria at work and asks him to star in Men Wear Lingerie For A Week, of course Aria accepts enthusiastically, none of Devin’s usual cajoling needed, and Fernando just sinks into his chair.
Why?
Why is it that everything Aria does seems calculated to take Fernando apart?Why is it that Aria does it all carelessly and enthusiastically, never even noticing the effect it has on his poor gay best friend?Why is it that Aria is still hopelessly straight?Fernando would bang his head against his desk if it wouldn’t make his predicament so obvious to everyone watching. Ryann, however, his desk neighbor and fairy godfather, is always able to read him like a book, and he shakes his head with a little patronizing smile.Ryann tends to say whatever is on his mind regardless of the consequences, and it’s usually hilarious, but this time, Fernando’s glad he waits for Aria to leave with Devin before speaking.“Gurl, whatchu doing? You’ve been pining in silence for months. Ask him out!”Fernando sighs. “He’s straight, Ry. This would achieve nothing but put a strain on our friendship.”“Straight my ass! The boy worships Michael Bublé!”“Yeah okay, but I’m no Bublé…”“You’re better. You’re Nando!”***Fernando hasn’t been this nervous since his first day at Buzzfeed. He probably should be reassured by the fact that Aria said yes when he asked him out, but truly he’s terrified that Aria thinks they’re just going out as friends.“Nuh-huh. No way,” Ryann had said while helping him get ready. “One look at you in these booty shorts and he’s gonna propose.”It’s 80s night at the roller rink and for some reason Ryann convinced Fernando it was a great idea for a first date. This is why he’s standing outside, in hot pink booty shorts, a purple crop top, thigh-high rainbow socks, and way more glitter than should be safe or sane for anyone not in preschool.“How is this supposed to make a good impression?” he’d asked Ryann.“Oh honey your impression has been made months ago, he’s your best friend. What you need, is to convince him he wants to tap that,” Ryann said, slapping Fernando’s ass.Ryann has a way of convincing Fernando to get out of his comfort zone, but the trouble with that, is that all of Fernando’s insecurities come running back as soon as Ryann leaves.So Fernando, in all his 80s aerobic glory, can’t stop pacing and checking the time on his phone, even though he knows Aria is always perfectly on time, never one minute early or late.He’s watching Instagram Stories on his phone to calm his nerves when Aria taps him on the shoulder.SHOOK.There is no other words to describe Fernando’s state of mind when he sees him.Aria also went all in – and really, it’s Aria, there shouldn’t have been any doubt he would. He’s wearing actual daisy duke shorts – don’t stare, don’t stare – black fishnet tights, and, most importantly, a black mesh bra with strategically placed sequin stars over his nipples.Fernando can’t speak. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling.Aria greets him with a hug – Fernando remembers at the last second that he should probably not stand there like a plank, and pats Aria’s back a few times.“Do you like it? Devin let me keep the set from today’s shoot.”
It’s a set?
Fernando tries to corral his thoughts away from picturing Aria in a mesh sequined thong. It helps that Aria is already talking a mile a minute about the shoot and his next video project.Fernando shakes his thoughts back into place and, now that he can stare at something else than Aria’s chest, notices he’s even wearing eyeliner. As if he weren’t enough of a menace already. It’s a good thing Fernando’s a decent skater cause even now, in regular shoes, he feels like one look at Aria might make him fall on his ass.They rent skates and Fernando, in his haste to impress Aria and hide his nervousness, is already halfway around the track when he realizes Aria’s not following. He turns, skating backwards, and sees Aria, a tight hold on the wall, more waddling than skating, a look of terror on his face.Fernando rolls up to him. “Need some help?” He offers his arm and Aria grips it like a lifeline.“I didn’t know you were – “ Fernando tries to find a non-insulting way to put it.“A shitty skater?” Aria grins. “It’s my first time.”“Oh shit. Why did you agree? We could have gone somewhere else…”Aria loosens his grip on Fernando’s arm but take his other hand in his.“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for months, I wasn’t about to miss my chance because I can’t skate.”Fernando’s pretty sure his jaw dropped, but he can’t be bothered to close it. A thousand thoughts are whirling through his brain.“You were waiting – you’re straight – why didn’t you ask me out?”A mischievous glint shines in Aria’s eye – the bastard is clearly enjoying Fernando’s struggle. “I’m very much bi, and let’s be real, if I’d asked you out you would have thought it was yet another of my insane video ideas, like I Dated A Coworker For A Week.”God, Aria knows him well.“So, do you want me to teach you how to skate or are you just here to look hot?”“Bit of both, but you should kiss me first.”
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All is fair in love and Mario Kart. That’s what Andrew realizes when he and Steven go to Adam’s for their third date for a night of pizza and video games. It’s not the most datey concept ever, but the three of them go on dates for a living, so this is a nice change of pace.However, once the pizza’s gone and they’re a glass of wine or two in, Andrew realizes just how ruthless Steven and Adam are at this game.For starters, they actually fight over characters.“You must be kidding me, Adam Bianchi, Peach has been my character for all my goddamn life, you will let me have her!” Steven is indignant and Andrew wonders what the hell happened to his sweet boyfriend when they turned the Wii on. “Screw you Steven, you weren’t fast enough, you can have Daisy for all I care.” Adam actually sticks his tongue out at Steven.Steven selects Daisy, but huffs out a storm, acting supremely offended and sighing dramatically. Adam is incredibly smug, smirking like a bastard. Andrew sits between them, content with his drama-free Baby Luigi, incredulous at the sudden competitive streak of his boyfriends.It turns out, Adam is, like, creepy good at Mario Kart. He easily takes on the first place from the get go, with Andrew not far behind and Steven trailing in 12th place, but laughing at them when they run into obstacles like he was an expert.And then it happens. Steven gets a blue shell and launches it – Adam, in first place, is blasted off the road and falls off the cliff.“Motherfucker you son of a bitch you can burn in hell how dare you fucking asshole eat shit i hate you – ” Adam keeps mumbling a string of expletives and insults as Andrew looks on – what is happening with his usually quiet and easy-going boyfriend?Steven, on the other hand, is cackling, unfazed by the insults. He managed to get to 5th place, while Andrew is in 3rd, before Adam comes back from the dead with a vengeful flame in his eye. He gets a Super Star and passes everybody, knocking Steven off course with a smug chuckle.“That’s it! You wanna go?” Steven throws his controller on the couch beside him and reach around Andrew to shove Adam, trying as hard as he can to distract him and get a raise out of him.Adam only smirks and Super Stars his way to first place, but Steven blocks the TV from Andrew and he can’t see where he’s going.Heaving a sigh, Andrew sets his controller down and catches Steven’s arms. He pins them at his sides gently with a fond exasperated smile.“Maybe Mario Kart wasn’t such a great idea…”“What do you mean, I’m winning!” Adam boasts.Andrew takes the controller from Adam. “Didn’t you hear yourselves? What the hell was that?”Steven turns bright red. “I might be… a little competitive?”“A little?” Adam cackles. “You were so worked up!”“I was? What about you?!”“Guys, enough!” Andrew sighs. “I think it’s time to turn the game off, and kiss and make up.”Steven gives a coy smile. Adam rolls his eyes but chuckles fondly.“Yeah, okay,” he says, and his hands fist into Steven’s shirt to bring him close, all the way across Andrew.Adam pauses right before the kiss. “But I get to go out with both of you, so I still win.”
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“Come on, Christian, free bath bombs! You can’t say no to that! Loosen up, jeez!”Christian rolls his eyes. Eric won’t leave him alone ever since he stole that jerk Mahoney’s wallet and found a Lush gift card. He’s determined that they have “a nice bonding experience and we’re gonna smell so good!”Since, apparently, Eric doesn’t know the meanings of the words no, not in a million years, or even over my dead body, Christian tries to convince him otherwise.“I’ve seen your shitty apartment, Eric. You don’t even have a bathtub. What the hell would you do with a bath bomb?”A mischievous glint sparks in Eric’s eye and oh, Christian doesn’t like that.“You have a bathtub.”Fuck. That is why Christian is currently being dragged into a scented hell by an overexcited Eric – because Christian is an idiot whose dick gains control over his entire brain whenever Eric is around.The idea of a stark naked Eric having a soak in his bathtub doesn’t convince Christian that it’s a good idea per se, but he suddenly finds himself thinking it would not be the worst thing ever.Which is ludicrous, if he’s honest with himself.But then they get in the shop and Eric starts touching everything and holding stuff up so Christian can smell it – as if his nose hadn’t overdosed and called it quits the second they walked in – and, oh no, he’s cute.So far, ever since he first met Eric, he’s wanted to do a lot of things to him: bend him over a pool table, punch his face in, train him into a good con artist, protect him, kiss the soul out of him. But this? This is the first time he’s wanted to just slip his hand in Eric’s and watch him be enthusiastic about everything around him.God, Aria would have a field day. He can hear him in his head. Is the great Christian Nilsson getting soft for the new kid?Eric turns to him and Christian quickly wipes the dumb, fond grin off his face.“Look at that, oh my god this one’s a little robot!”“What are you, five?” Christian immediately regrets his sharp tone but Eric doesn’t seem to mind, instead almost shoving the bath bomb into Christian’s face to make him smell it.In his enthusiasm, Eric squeezes the bomb a little too hard and the robot’s head crumbles off, leaving a trail of blue dust down the front of Christian’s black button-down.“Oh god I’m so sorry, here, lemme – ”Eric tried to rub it off, but his hands are covered in blue dust and glitter.“You’re just making it worse,” Christian says, his voice low and maybe a little bit fond.He wraps his hands around Eric to still them – Eric’s fingers stutter over Christian’s chest and their eyes meet.“God you’re a mess.” Christian shakes his head, but pulls Eric in for not exactly the kind of kiss they should be having in public.After all, he’s always had a thing for hot messes.
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Ryan can’t sleep. He’s tossing and turning, trying to ignore the scent surrounding him.Last night he let Zack crashed at his place after the game cause he was too drunk to drive, and Ryan let him have the bed, cause that’s what you do when you’re a good friend.The trouble is, Ryan’s sheets now smell like Zack – and it’s intoxicating. And, like, Ryan is the first to admit Zack is hot, don’t get him wrong. But there’s a line they’ve never crossed – they shouldn’t cross, probably. Ryan, as he buries his face in the pillow and ruts into the mattress until he comes himself to sleep, is enthusiastically crossing that line.He manages to somewhat forget about it until the next day at work, when he’s on a shoot. They’re doing some sort of Who Wore It Better photoshoot, and they give him an outfit to wear.He’s getting changed behind a screen when he’s hit with a scent that drives him crazy and instantly hard. He looks around from the source of it when he realizes it’s himself – or rather, the clothes they made him wear.“Hey, um, Jazz?” he calls over the partition. “Who’s the other person in the video?”“Zack Evans, why?”“Just wanna know who I’m competing with.” Ryan tries to school his voice into a regular pitch, but even then he’s pretty sure he’s sounding like a mouse and fooling no one.So Zack wore this outfit before him. And now Ryan has to do his job, has to be functional, when he can’t focus on anything but the scent of Zack surrounding him. When the only thing he wants is to duck in a bathroom and take care of his little problem.He takes a minute to calm down, to will his dick soft, and the shoot goes better than he’d thought it would.He gets maybe an hour reprieve, which he uses to change into his own, Ryan-smelling clothes, and throw himself into his work to stop thinking. But then Jazzmyne calls Zack and Ryan back to the set – they’re supposed to film their reactions to the other’s look.Ryan doesn’t think there’s anything in the world that would be harder than sitting next to Zack on camera right now. To add to that, Ryan can still smell Zack on himself. Turns out a night in Zack-scented sheets plus a whole shoot in his clothes left a mark on Ryan.Let’s get this over with, Ryan thinks when Jazz shows them the footage.“I think Zack wins, it’s obvious,” he says, barely looking at the screen. Anything to get this done as quick as possible.“Are you kidding?” Zack exclaims. “Look at that, you fill the jacket much more… nicely. And these pants? They look like they’ve been painted on, dude.”“Okay, Evans, jeez, keep it in your pants,” Jazz says with obvious glee.“I’m just saying,” Zack insists, “Look at these.” He squeezes Ryan’s bicep and gives an appreciative whistle. “I mean…”Ryan’s certain he’s having a meltdown. This can’t be happening – probably Zack just noticed Ryan’s trouble and decided to milk it for all it’s worth.Maybe he likes you, a hopeful voice in his mind suggests.Don’t be stupid, why would he? says another voice. The trouble is, this voice is much more difficult to ignore.Ryan stammers, and notices with a shiver that Zack’s fingers are still wrapped around his arm. Their eyes meet and Zack’s gaze is so warm on him Ryan flushes bright pink.“Y’all know we’re still rolling, right?” Jazz pipes up, and Ryan jolts to attention.Zack, however, nods, but turns away from Ryan slowly, almost lazily. His hand is still on Ryan’s arm – don’t think of his thumb rubbing circles into your skin, don’t think about it.The rest of the shoot is uneventful – Zack insists Ryan won the challenge and Ryan accepts so they can wrap this up.Zack waits for Jazz to walk out of the room, sprawled in his chair, definitely in no hurry to leave any time soon. His eyes are on Ryan, insistent and appreciative, raking over his whole body.“So,” he says, his voice deep and languid like molasses.Ryan gulps. “So?”Zack rests a hand on the back of Ryan’s chair, leaning even further back in his seat. Ryan can’t help his eyes darting over the strain of his spread out thighs in his jeans and he knows Zack notices because he ever so slightly squirms under his gaze.“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Zack drawls, and the hand on the back of Ryan’s seat comes resting in the small of his back.“W-what do you mean?”Zack chuckles. “How bout you get your head out of your ass so we can start having fun?”Their eyes meet. Zack’s hand dip under Ryan’s shirt. Ryan feels like he’s never been this alive but also like he’s imploding.“Just kiss me, dude.”
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“In your face, Lim! You can’t take the heat!” Ryan dunks one last basketball in the Super Shot arcade game – the counter shows 56 points, while Steven’s shows 31.“What happened, Steven? Not gold enough for you?”Steven turns bright red, clenches his fists at his sides. “So you won. What you gonna do about it? Make a PowerPoint?”Andrew chuckles as he feeds a coin in a nearby pinball machine. “I certainly didn’t realize Steven was like this when I started dating him.”“They do bring it out of each other, don’t they?” Shane replies, long body lazily draped over the next machine. Andrew pulls the clutch and shakes the machine, dings and thunks barely audible through the electronic din around them.Shane squeezes Andrew’s shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded, voice slow, from the pitcher of beer the two of them shared earlier. “I think you’re the only guy my age who’s good at pinball.”“What can I say, I’m old-fashioned.”“I like that about you.”The clutch slips out of Andrew’s grip and the ball doesn’t go much farther than the first 100 points bump.“Allow me,” Shane says, and he makes a big show of pulling a coin out of his pocket and feeding the machine. “It’s my fault you lost the last one.”Andrew hates – loves? – how well Shane can read him. It’s a bit dangerous – it’s not like anything good can – should – come out of this.Nevertheless, he represses a shiver when Shane’s hand brushes his on the frame of the machine.He’s saved from having to answer by Steven draping himself over his back, a whine in the back of his throat. “Ryan beat me again…”“Why don’t you change games?” Andrew suggests, willing his voice steady, willing himself to look away from Shane.“He’ll say I’m admitting defeat.”“So?”“I’ll never hear the end of it.”Shane pipes up. “You can never hear the end of anything you do with Ryan. You just have to take it in stride, go with the flow.”Andrew looks from one to the other – laid-back, debonair Shane; high-strung, anxious Steven. One is the definition of go with the flow, the other is the opposite. Steven has as much chance of letting Ryan’s roasting go as Shane of believing in ghosts.Ryan parades up to them, thanking an imaginary crowd of fans, and dips Shane into a deep, messy kiss. Jesus, they’re hot together, Andrew thinks, and quickly turns to Steven, to pretend he wasn’t staring.Steven, still gazing at the couple, is blushing ardently, and a thrill runs up Andrew’s spine. He shoves another coin in the pinball machine and tries not to notice Ryan deepening the kiss and Shane’s hands fisting into his shirt.Ryan finally resurfaces with a satisfied exhale. “Sucks to be you, Andrew, dude.”Andrew just raises an inquisitive eyebrow, not trusting his voice to speak without cracking.“You don’t get to kiss a champion,” Ryan explains with a dirty look at Steven.“That’s it, Bergara. You and me! All or nothing!” Steven’s hands are balled up into fists and his face is scrunched up in determination.“All or nothing what? We didn’t bet!”They walk back to the Super Shot machine, bickering fading into the distance.Shane leans closer to Andrew, who tries not to notice the way his pink shirt now gapes around his neck, a few more buttons undone, his chest still heaving in the aftermath of the kiss.“These two,” Shane chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “They should just bone.”In his shock, Andrew has to grip the sides of the machine to stay upright.“You can’t be serious,” he croaks.Shane shrugs with just one shoulder, as if discussing the most normal thing in the world and not suggesting their boyfriends should fuck. The lazy gesture shouldn’t be this hot, but somehow it is, and Andrew’s mouth falls open in anticipation.“Would be hot, wouldn’t it?” Shane leans all the way into Andrew’s body to say it, breath hot against the shell of his ear, and this time, Andrew cannot repress the full body shiver that sends him even closer into Shane.He gives an involuntary nod, tiny, but he can tell Shane notices by the way his mouth twists into a tempting smirk.“Maybe you should talk to your boyfriend,” Shane whispers in his ear.Andrew gulps. “What about Ryan?”Shane nods in their direction. “Oh, I know he’s in.”Andrew turns to see the competitive banter between Ryan and Steven seems to have morphed into some undeniable sexual tension. Ryan is bracketing Steven against an air hockey table – Steven traded his petulant demeanour for a coy look, his ears a bright pink. Andrew knows his boyfriend well enough to recognize signs of arousal and Steven is definitely into it.Andrew gives Shane’s hand a little squeeze and pushes himself off the pinball machine to make his way to their boyfriends. As soon as he sees him coming over, Steven gets this terrified look on his face and straightens up, putting as much space as possible between Ryan and him.Andrew smiles, trying his best to show he’s not mad, that this is okay. In the least possessive way possible, he takes Steven’s hand. He hopes Steven will be able to just go with the flow, for once. “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” He smiles at Ryan too, trying to show this is not a jealousy thing.Ryan smiles back but Andrew can tell he’s curious from the way he keeps looking back at them as he walks over to Shane.“Andrew, I’m so – “ Andrew cuts Steven’s blabbering with a gentle kiss.“It’s okay. Give it a go.”“W-what? You mean – ““I mean Shane and Ryan are down to have fun with us and so am I.”Steven looks like the wind got knocked out of him – eyes wide, jaw dropped, breathless. His fingers stutter on Andrew’s shoulders.“I – um – yeah, okay.”“Okay?” Andrew wants to make sure.“Yes please.”Steven cradles Andrew’s face in his hands and presses their lips together – a promise and a thank-you.They join Shane and Ryan in a corner tucked out of view. One nod from Steven and Ryan latches onto him, pressing him into the wall, a wild glint in his eye.Andrew indulges in the sight for a moment before turning to Shane, every single one of his nerve endings burning with need.“C’m’ere,” Shane mumbles, pulling him in by his belt loops.Andrew relishes in the way he has to stand on his tiptoes and Shane still has to lean down to meet him halfway. His fingers curl into Shane’s shirt to pull him ever closer. Shitty beer made Shane’s lips warm and Andrew’s brain loose, and Ryan’s fingers link through his, while his mouth pulls whimpers out of Steven’s throat.Just go with the flow.
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Ryan: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we cover the case of two of our weirdly matched coworkers whose cursed affair brought a string of strange occurrences to the office. Adam Bianchi. Ned Fulmer. A match made in hell? That’s what we’ll try to determine.Shane: Why would a relationship be cursed, Ryan, that’s nonsense.Ryan: Glad you asked. The very first clue is in their names. Put together, their names spell a damned. I think that’s a clear sign that no good can come out of this union. Shane: that – Ryan – what a bunch of baloney! Ryan: Now that that’s been established, let’s get into the evidence.
February 26, 2018. The couple walks into the office, hand in hand, for the first time.
Upon their arrival, a series of accidents unfolds. At least four reported coffee spills. Two accounts of walking into a wall. Lastly, a dramatic increase in the number of deadline extensions asked that day.
Some say a curse is placed on the unfortunate couple. Others suggest the involvement of a poltergeist.Shane: A polter— Jesus, Ryan, there’s nothing supernatural in any of that! I was here that day. Everyone in the office was simply, as the kids say, shook at seeing them together. Every “proof” you offered can be easily explained by reactions of surprise or by gossip going around the office.Ryan: From March 5, 2018, to this day, a series of curious disappearances from the Tasty kitchens. A grand total of twelve bars of dark chocolate disappeared from the pantry, without a trace. On each of these occasions, the couple could be found near the pantry on the same day. Does a chocoholic spirit haunt the lovers?Shane: Oh for god’s sakes Ryan, Ned likes dark chocolate, probably Adam just wanted to please him.Ryan: On April 7th, 2018, a witness who wishes to remain anonymous, confirmed that the whole office thought the idyl was, quote, weird, unquote.Shane: That doesn’t mean anything! Andrew —Ryan: [cough] An anonymous witness.Shane: [sigh] Fine, the “anonymous witness” was just saying that because he’s into Adam! He never even mentioned that so-called curse.Ryan: If this airtight evidence won’t convince you —Shane: [snort]Ryan: — perhaps a look at physical proof will change your mind. I have managed to procure a copy of a note Ned’s wife, Ariel Fulmer, wrote for him. The note reads, quote, To whom it may concerns; since no one is willing to believe my husband, Ned Fulmer, also has a boyfriend, I’m hereby confirming that we are in a polyamorous relationship and everything Ned does with Adam is all right with me. Signed, Ariel Fulmer. Unquote.Shane: What does this have to do with anything?Ryan: If you hold the letter upside-down, the letters I, E and L of her signature looks like 666, or, as we know it, the devil’s number.Shane: Jesus [wheeze]Ryan: And the A looks like a pyramid with an eye in it.Shane: Are you – are you saying Ariel is in the Illuminati?Ryan: I’m postulating perhaps she doesn’t even have anything to do with this letter and it’s been written by the malevolent entity who cursed the office by possessing Adam and Ned.***“What the fuck are you doing?” Ned asks, bursting into Ghouls HQ.“Is this – are you doing an episode on –“ Adam shuffles through Ryan’s documentation “– our relationship?”Ryan’s eyes go wide and he stammers, trying to gather his papers out of sight. “N-not for publishing! I was just trying to convince Shane –“Adam raises an eyebrow. “You got too much time on your hands.”Ned is still fuming, snatching Ryan’s folder out of his hands.“Come, babe,” Adam says, squeezing his shoulders soothingly. “You know how Ryan gets. I think we got some dark chocolate left at Tasty.”“If the poltergeist didn’t steal it all,” Shane pipes up with a smirk.“Yeah okay…” Ryan shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe there’s no curse. But this is so weird!”Ned slides an arm around Adam’s waist, really selling the lovely couple image. “Weird? Or adorable?”“Yeah, alright, you guys win – sorry about all that.”“Hey, looks like you solved a case at last, though!”“A case he created from scratch, that’s not a big solve – “ Ned mutters, but Adam pulls him away before things escalate again.Yeah, he can see how people can find it weird – he did too, at first, but Ned is cute, and caring, and funny, and just so damn hot.If that’s a curse, Adam will gladly summon a whole demon.
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“Hello, and welcome to Come On In! I’m Kristin and today, we’re invited to the home of Steven Lim and Andrew Ilnyckyj, hosts of the late night talk-show Worth The Wait and Hollywood’s It couple!”Kristin rings the doorbell and the door immediately opens to reveal Andrew and Steven, in matching, plush bathrobes.“Come on in,” Andrew says, beaming.“As you can see,” Kristin tells the camera, “Steven and Andrew have been gracious enough to welcome us as they get ready for their big night. Nominated for their third Emmy tonight, they’re also presenting an award, so they gotta look their best.”Steven and Andrew take Kristin and the camera crew through the traditional tour of the house, before settling in their walk-in closet, where they will get ready.“Tell me,” Kristin asks as Steven shuffled through a rack of neckties, “you two have always been somehow secretive about your relationship. Care to give Come On In’s dear viewers an exclusive? How did you two meet?”Steven and Andrew share a fond glance, and an almost imperceptible nod.“Well, Kristin,” Andrew says, “we went to college together, and I can still remember the very first time I saw Steven —“ “Excuse me, is this seat free?” An angel is Andrew’s first thought.
Silver-haired, bright-eyed, and framed by a halo of Christmas lights on the wall behind him. Andrew blinks him into focus and realizes the guy is struggling with two backpacks, a big pile of books, a laptop and its charger, looking for an outlet. The place is crowded with last minute finals crammers.
“Of course, of course!” Andrew scrambles to his feet to get some of the load off his arms.
The guy settles in the seat across Andrew, plugs in his laptop and lets out a relieved sigh.
“Finals?” Andrew asks, a bit stupidly, because why else would he be in a coffee shop laden with textbooks on December 10?
“Tell me about it.” Then he looks up from the overwhelming pile of stuff separating them, and smiles. “Steven.”
“Andrew,” Andrew answers, holding his hand out over the wall of textbooks for Steven to shake.
“Nice to meet you.” Steven’s smile is the brightest, sweetest thing Andrew’s ever seen. “So sorry for invading you with my stuff… Lemme buy you coffee, make it up to you.”
Andrew doesn’t need much space – he’s working on his iPad – but Steven looks at him like that and really who could refuse?
He nods shyly – apparently, the apparition of Steven in his life sucked all his usual aplomb out of him. “I’d like that.”
Steven walks up to the counter and comes back with two steaming mugs of coffee. “I didn’t know how you take it…” Steven trails off apologetically, dumping a heap of sugar packets and milk thingies on top of the already tall pile of books.
Andrew chuckles incredulously. He is so cute and how can Andrew be already in so deep not ten minutes after meeting the guy?
“I take it black, but thanks,” Andrew says, trying not to sound ungrateful, feeling a bit bad that Steven carried all of these for nothing.
But then Steven starts pouring packet after packet of sugar in his cup, and okay, maybe it wasn’t for nothing.
“Wow, you really don’t like coffee, huh?” Andrew whistles in wonder.
Steven scrunches up his face. “Not really. But I need the boost if I want to finish in time.”
They make small talk – except no talk with Steven can be small, he could talk about anything and Andrew would listen with rapt attention, and he also makes you feel like what you’re saying is the most important thing in the world – about their classes and realize they got the same major, TV Production, but they’re a year apart, which is why they never met.
Soon enough – too soon for Andrew’s taste – their mugs are empty and Steven is eyeing his books reluctantly.
“I don’t wanna be rude…”
“No, please, of course! I need to get some work done too.”
Steven buries himself in his books and Andrew buys the next round of coffee and they work in companionable silence, until the Christmas lights turn off and Andrew realizes so did the Christmas music.
He looks up to find the coffee shop around them completely empty, except for the two of them and an exhausted looking barista holding a mop.
They gather their things and leave in a hurry, Steven apologizing profusely to the barista in the sweetest way that makes Andrew’s heart squeeze.
“And then he walked me back to my dorm – to help with my big pile of books, y’know, smooth,” Steven grins, “and before he left…”Kristin is hanging to his every word. So is Andrew, even though he knows the story by heart – hell, he lived it. Steven is just that good with words. That’s why their show works so well.“He kissed me!” Steven exclaims, pausing from tying Andrew’s bow tie to kiss his nose.“We’ve been together ever since,” Andrew says, with the fondest, most in love look in his eyes.He pulls Steven in by his lapels. “Hey, you’re gonna wrinkle –“ the rest of Steven’s protest is muffled into a deep kiss. Deeper than they’ve ever shared on camera, but Andrew’s in love, and after all these years, Steven can still make him feel like a young idiot who just wants to kiss the cute boy in the coffee shop.
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Polyamorous Rave Sluts
by Kelsey Darragh, for The Buzz Mag
On the rise since 2014, The Renegade Youth have conquered the synthpop scene and the queer community with their irresistible anthems and their unwavering activism for queer rights.Today, the four of them welcome me to their West Hollywood home for lunch and a little heart to heart.Casual is the first word that comes to mind when I walk into their house. Simple, cozy, so unmistakably them – you’d never guess a three-times Grammy winner band lives here. Until they give me the tour of their in-house state-of-the-art recording studio, where you can see they spared no expense.Zach: Only the best of the best is good for Eugene.Keith: Which is why he’s with us, if you know what I mean. Eugene rolls his eyes, but you can see how fond of them he really is, behind his tough, no-nonsense exterior.Ned is the only one missing so far, and we find him in the kitchen, mixing a batch of lingonberry sangria, under the intense gaze of their four dogs: Bowie, Bean, Emma and Pesto.The Buzz: Four grown men and four dogs in one house, doesn’t it get a bit tight?Ned: Not if you like to cuddle!He drops to his knees and is quickly engulfed in a puppy pile, each dog waiting for his kiss or belly rub.We have lunch outside, on their rooftop terrace overlooking West Hollywood, and I ask them about their relationship.Zach: We’ve been together since college and that’s when we started DJing, at various parties on campus.Eugene: They used to call us Polyamorous Rave Sluts cause we were pretty much up for anything.They reminisce with a laugh.The Buzz: Your brand hasn’t changed much since then, has it? This is still pretty accurate.Keith: We feel it’s important to be ourselves, even though it’s not something usually portrayed by the media –Zach: Because it’s not something usually portrayed by the media.Ned: Exactly. We want to pave the way for every single person who one day finds themselves terrified by being in love with more than one person. We want to open the discussion about polyamory.Eugene: Like, it’s okay to be a slut. It’s okay to enjoy different people in different ways.Zach: We especially wanted to make music about it, because if you listen to 95% of the music out there it’s about love between one man and one woman. We’re starting to see more queer artists out there –Keith: Shoutout to Mayday Mountains!Zach: Yes! But most of it is still monogamous. For the longest time, the four of us didn’t have a song we could relate to our relationship, like how most couples have a song.Eugene: We had to write it ourselves, and that was how Nocturnal was born.The Buzz: Nocturnal was, for many fans, where it all began. Tell me, was it hard to be known as the polyamorous band? Did you ever want to branch out, be recognized for something else?Ned: The synthpop and electropop crowd is a really open-minded family, and they accepted us with open arms and hearts, and like we said, polyamorous people have been clamoring for representation for so long, so it’s nice to give them what they want. As for the haters, well, they’re obviously not who we have in mind when we write songs!Keith: And really, who’s on the cover of The Buzz? Us or the haters? I think there’s a clear winner here!On these wise words and among the laughs of his boyfriends, we toast to the success of their latest album, N.E.O.N., which you can find in stores on August 12.
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The two of you have always done this. You’re always behind the camera, never on pictures, so you go out of your way to photograph each other – to kind of say hey, you were there, and I was too.
With time, it becomes a game. Who will get their phone or camera out and snap a pic first.
One moment. Two point of views.
Soon, you find yourselves taking the long way home from work as an excuse to take pics – there’s a nice fence that way or the greatest flower hedge.
One fine Saturday, you text Annie out of the blue. I know an amazing graffiti mural that would photograph great, wanna check it out?
She answers yes please with a little purple heart and you’re wondering if she thinks it’s a date.
If you think it’s a date.
You think of her warm smile and even warmer laugh and trade your brown t-shirt for a pink button-down.
Only because it’ll look better against the cold tones of the graffiti, you tells yourself.
Twenty minutes later, you’re nervously waiting for her in your car in front of her building. You wonder why you’re even nervous at all.
It’s Annie, you tell yourself. Just Annie. You see her everyday.
Somehow, this is different. It’s the first time you’re making plans to hang outside of work just the two of you.
She walks out and you can’t keep your eyes off her. Has she always been this pretty? Or have you just never noticed?
She beams when she sees you and you wonder if it’s possible to die from beauty.
You need to capture this – the essence of happiness. If you can only take one last picture in your life, let it be this one. You grab your phone from the cup holder and snap a picture as she’s hiking her backpack higher on her shoulder, smile dazzling, sunlight looking like it was created for no other purpose than to illuminate her.
Yeah, okay, you’re in deep, you realize as you check the picture and she climbs into the car.
You drive through the town, exchanging the same quips and inside jokes as always, like nothing changed, like you didn’t just realize you’re hopelessly in love with her.
You work together to find the perfect spot for one of your two points of views, one moments. One one side, the huge graffiti mural depicting tangled fingers. On the other, a nice bridge, and it looks like you’re just in time for the sunset.
She starts off all serious, directing you to lean against the wall, trying to frame the perfect shot, while you’re just happy to look at her and do whatever she wants.
But then you try to frame your shot and you start cracking jokes, because you need that incredible smile in your picture, no matter what. You can’t even wait for her to give the signal – you snap a pic, unable to resist her beauty.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe out, and that’s when she takes your picture.
She holds out her phone to show you the photo. “So are you.”
You barely glance at the phone – your entire being is focused on one thing: she heard you, and yet she’s still beaming.
You recognize in her eyes the same awe and nervousness filling you. Your hands shake with how much you need her. Neither of you is looking at her phone anymore – you’re lost in each other, waiting for the spark.
Her fingers find yours, pull you in closer.
“Can I kiss you?” she asks, in that mellow, deep voice, so tenderly inviting.
You haven’t even finished nodding when her lips gently touch yours, her tongue ever so slowly greeting yours.
Without even thinking about it, you both raise your phones and capture the scene.
One moment. Two point of views.
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The livestream Steven and Ryan made after Steven won their bet was enlightening to say the least.Steven walks away from the set knowing three things.One, he’s got a crush on Ryan.Two, he wouldn’t mind seeing Ryan all wet again.Three, telling Ryan what to do and seeing him being obedient gave him a kind of rush he’d never experienced before. So Steven, who prides himself on always being prepared and organized, stays up late a few nights, digging deeper and deeper into some parts of the internet he’s never visited before.He learns about kink.Specifically, about domming.He reads articles, watches porn, fantasizes, and after a couple months, he feels ready.Now he just has to convince Ryan.Steven doubts he can just walk up to him and try to seduce him. For one thing, Ryan is still bitter about losing the bet. For another, Steven is a terrible flirt.It’s a good thing Ryan is so thirsty for a dom, really. Oh, he said nothing of the sort – he didn’t have to. There was something in his eye, a hungry glint shining every time Steven gave him an order, even though he tried his hardest to resist, to act as though it was the worst thing ever.So really, Steven would just be helping him out.Like friends do.Steven finds an opportunity to test this out towards the end of the week. He’s in the canteen with Shane and Ryan, exchanging some banter that’s becoming more and more mocking from Ryan’s part – nothing to do with the gentle ribbing from Shane.Heat curls in the pit of Steven’s stomach. Ryan needs to learn his place. He takes a deep breath and shoves it all deep down – it wouldn’t do to try this in front of Shane.But then Shane leaves the room, leaving Steven and Ryan alone in the empty canteen. And Ryan is still trying to get a rise out of Steven, talking crap about gold and truffles and LeBron.Another deep breath, to center himself.He’s vaguely conscious of his ears warming up, probably turning bright red, but he stays focused.“Ryan. Stop.”He’s taking his best dom voice – the one he practiced in the mirror, imagining a helpless Ryan under him.It doesn’t have an immediate effect.“You can’t take it, uh?” Ryan says in a mocking voice. “Yeah you don’t have a camera crew to fall back on so you can’t face me –““I. Said. Stop.”Ryan’s shoulders slump and he takes in a shuddered breath. Steven smirks and takes a step closer to him.And another.And another.Ryan’s breathing quickens with each of Steven’s steps. His eyes widen and his cheeks are flushed. He’s never looked more gorgeous.Steven hopes to god he’s not reading this wrong.He tilts Ryan’s chin up with a single finger. “You like that.”It’s a statement, not a question.Ryan cannot meet Steven’s gaze, but he nods, a bit too quickly to be casual.Another step.Steven’s crowding Ryan against the counter by now, one hand bracketing him against it, the other still on his chin.“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Steven moves in slowly, both to let Ryan stop him if he’s not into it, and to let the tension rise.Ryan whimpers in the back of his throat, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s breathing fast, chest heaving against Steven’s.Steven’s hand curls around Ryan’s jaw and their lips meet. Ryan melts against him so quickly Steven has to slot a leg between Ryan’s to keep him upright.When Ryan is good and unraveled, pawing at Steven’s back for more, Steven breaks the kiss, speaks against his mouth.“Come over tonight. I wanna play.”
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He’s doing it for her smile. The first time Ryan offered Kelsey some coffee – because the coffee place messed up his order and he just bought a second one instead of complaining – she smiled as if he had made her entire week, and Ryan felt as if he’d been blessed by an angel.He brings her the same thing the next three days, and it always earns him the same sunshine smile. On day four, it occurs to him that he could ask her coffee order, rather than sticking with whatever mistake the barista made that first time. “You don’t have to,” she replies, cheeks flushing a light pink.“I want to,” Ryan says, and the warmth pooling in his ears tells him he’s blushing too. “It makes you happy.”She’s turning an even deeper pink now, and her smile is reaching record levels of brightness.The next morning, Ryan grins as he hands her a coffee prepared just as she likes it, and she beams even wider.“You’re a lifesaver, Ry.” She takes a sip and sighs in bliss before continuing. “I was up all night editing.”“That’s the least I can do, after you put up with us in the Sims videos.”Kelsey giggles and squeezes his hand in thanks and Ryan feels like his entire arm is vibrating under her touch.As he walks back to his desk – reluctantly, he’d much rather stay near Kelsey and bask in her sunshine – he formulates a theory. The theory is twofold.One, he’s quickly falling in love with Kelsey.Two, he’s pretty sure she likes him back.On the next morning, he brings her the usual, after scribbling Dinner tonight? on the side of the cup.It’s a lame first date, he knows, but he really just wants an excuse to spend time with Kelsey, talk to her and look at her, outside or work. Plus, she loves to eat.He doesn’t have time to keep second guessing his choice, however, because she’s grabbing his own coffee out of his hands and writing I’d love to on it.Ryan’s eyes widen, unable to process what’s happening. He’s just frozen in place at Kelsey’s desk, wondering how the hell he got so lucky. She pulls him down by the hand, still sitting at her desk, and kisses his cheek.“Text me the details, yeah?” she says, and pushes him gently in the direction of his desk.Ryan spends the day begging Adam for restaurants recommendations – he’s too deep into that joke feud with Steven and Andrew to ask them without risking making a fool of himself.At first Adam only answers “Watch Worth It, it’s all there,” but after a few hours of Ryan annoying him by text message, he cracks and gives him a few recommendations.In the end, it doesn’t matter where he took her, because they hit it off so well, they almost forget to eat because they’re talking and laughing so much. They end up taking a walk in a quiet neighbourhood, and Kelsey insists on buying him an ice cream cone. “It’s only fair,” she says when he protests, “you probably bought me my own weight in coffee at this point.”Ryan finally accepts, realizing Kelsey is just not someone you can say no to. He gets coffee-flavoured ice cream, winking at Kelsey, and she laughs.They sit on top of a picnic table behind the shop, watching the sunset. Well, Kelsey watches the sunset, and Ryan watches the way her hair turns pink in the last rays of sun.“Your ice cream is melting,” she says, startling him. He didn’t notice she turned to him and caught him in the act of staring.She giggles and hands him a napkin. “You’re missing the sunset.”“I’ve seen hundreds of them,” Ryan says, without taking his eyes off her.“Is that a line, Mr. Bergara?” she asks, batting her eyelids in a way that would be comical if she weren’t so goddamn beautiful.“I don’t know, is it working?”“How about you kiss me and find out?”
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TJ has never been able to figure Matt out. He’s long since abandoned all hope of ever succeeding.But here’s the thing: he’s never been able to figure out how he feels about the guy either.Matt is odd. No better way to put it.He’s got these crazy theories – even crazier than Ryan’s, and that says a lot. And the thing that hooked Teej, the one thing that has him still trying to figure him out after all these years, is that you never know when the guy is joking. Teej has heard him go on and on about the flat Earth, the moon landing, name it, and he still doesn’t know whether Matt really believes in these conspiracies.It’s not like Ryan. Ryan’s belief is a strong, unwavering faith, and you couldn’t change his mind if you tried.Matt? Well, Matt is riding the minuscule line between batshit crazy and hilarious. Once in a while there’s a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he doesn’t believe a word of what he spouts, but it’s gone in a flash and Teej is left wondering. Wondering, and obsessing, about this, but also about that moustache. With that moustache and these eyeglasses, Matt should one hundred percent look like a seventies pornstar or someone’s creepy uncle.He doesn’t.He’s – and Teej shouldn’t think this, probably – he’s pretty. Pretty like his hair so soft Teej wants to bury his fingers in it. Pretty like when he smiles Teej wants to be in on the joke. Pretty like Teej just wants to keep listening him talk because these eyes are too good to ignore.So Teej buys him a beer. And another. And another. And somewhere along the line Matt’s switched over from the other side of the booth to right next to Teej pressed against his side.He’s still going on and on about aliens or something, grinning, when Teej interrupts.“You’re insufferable, you know that?”Matt just beams. “Well, I mean, that’s kinda my brand, you know? That’s why you like me, isn’t it?”TJ’s kinda thrown. Matt is just so open about it, his entire thigh pressed along Teej’s without any concept of personal space, the way he suddenly looks at him like he knows exactly the effect he’s having, this off-hand comment.TJ is not used to not being the one in control, to having someone else knowing what he’s trying to hide, to be the one who’s blushing.It’s kind of exhilarating.His hand grip his beer in a feeble attempt at grounding himself, but Matt’s still smiling, all pretty and completely unfazed by Teej’s inner turmoil.“What’s it gonna take for you to stop smiling?” Teej grunts, trying to keep up his tough guy façade and hide how smitten he really is.“Why don’t you find out?”That’s a come on if Teej ever saw one. And damn, who knew Matt was so smooth?Teej decides to take the opening – if he makes the first move maybe he won’t feel so out of control, so exactly like he’s base jumping without a parachute.It is, admittedly, a very bad idea. They work together, for god’s sakes, they see each other every damn day of the week, and there’s a twinkle in Matt’s eye, again, like he’s not taking things that seriously. What if Teej puts himself out there and Matt just laughs at him?But like.The Earth being flat. The moon landing. Matt being into TJ. A lot of far-fetched things. And right now, Teej feels like taking a page out of Matt’s book. Embrace the weird. Maybe it’ll surprise you.He drains the last of his beer with a certain finality. This is it.“You know what I’m about to do, right?” he asks, cause he doesn’t want to just plant one on the guy, wants to leave him an out.Matt chuckles. “You’re either about to kiss me or punch me.”“Sounds about right.”“I’m partial to the first one, if it’s all the same to you.”Enough talk.Teej cups the back of Matt’s neck and brings him in close, maybe a bit too forcefully, but Matt’s fingers close around his bicep and he gives himself to the kiss like someone who’s never been hurt before.Which is completely wild to Teej, and maybe a bit terrifying. He deepens the kiss, wanting to give back as much as he takes, because pretty, odd Matt deserves so much.Matt breaks the kiss. “So, I’ve got a theory.”“Is it a crazy-ass theory?” Teej is a bit breathless and it would be embarrassing if Matt wasn’t also out of breath.“You tell me.”“Let’s hear it then.”“My theory is that you want to bring me home.”“You might be on to something there.”
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Shane ditched the bling in the prop closet, but keeps the outfit on all day – he kinda likes the way heads turn and gazes follow him as he walks through the office. Feels powerful, a bit like when Ryann and Fernando made him wear heels.Actually, now that he thinks about it, this outfit would be incredible with heels. He can picture the sharp cut of the suit, the jut of his ankle, a tall, pointy stiletto. It feels a bit stupid for work – now that he doesn’t have the excuse of a video – so he keeps the image filed away in his mind and tries to keep working.This might be why he jumps at the invitation for drinks after work. If he’s honest with himself he doesn’t want to go back home alone and change into sweats. He wants to keep feeling powerful and handsome, and gorgeous. The novelty of the feeling is dizzying.So he texts Ryann, you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of heels laying around, wouldn’t you?Ryann asks a lot of questions like what are you wearing and where are you going and it would feel like an interrogation if Shane wasn’t almost vibrating at the thought of putting on heels again. He knows Ryann wants to come up with the best pair of shoes for Shane and he’s so grateful for that.After half an hour where Shane has been uselessly fidgeting at his desk without getting any work done, Ryann finally walks up to him with a shoe box. Shane is grateful most people already left – he kinda wants it to be a surprise.Nice white pumps – perfect to pair with the blue suit – and high. Shane can already tell he’s gonna be at least as tall as Garrett in these and he represses a shiver as he slides his feet into them.It takes less than a few minutes to get used to them, this time around.“You’re a natural,” Ryann says, pulling his phone out to film it.“Can you – can you wait for tomorrow to post it? I kinda want it to be a surprise.” He doesn’t know why. He knows that for some reason, tonight he wants all eyes on him, even though on any other day he’d rather crawl into bed and watch Frasier. Maybe it’s the rush of the Ferrari going to his head. He thought he was above that kind of thing.“Of course baby,” Ryann says, and films him as he struts up and down the empty hallway.Shane walks into the bar, and sees everything and everyone, as he’s at least a head taller than all of them. He spots his colleagues at the back, crowded around two long tables, and is delighted to see that someone invited Zach, Keith, Ned and Eugene. He hasn’t seen them in a while – not since they left, actually, cause life is just that goddamn busy – and they’re always good party value.Keith is the first one he reaches and he really plays up the wow you’re so tall bit, since they’re usually pretty much eye-level. They make a bit of small talk before Ned walks up to them, standing straighter as if it could help him be not so small next to them, and Shane congratulates him on the baby and the house and the company, even though he already did all that on social media before.Next is Zach, complimenting his ‘hot ankles’, whatever that is, and deadpan asking him if he could climb him.“Maybe later,” Shane jokes, as he feels a heavy gaze pulling at him from the back of the room.He turns to see Eugene, his back to the wall, hands in his pockets, looking Shane up and down insistently. Shane pretends not to see him. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to let Eugene come to him. Knows they’ll both enjoy the game.He turns to greet a few more people, go up to the bar to grab beers with Ryan – who of course cracks more than a few tall jokes – all the while acutely aware of Eugene’s gaze following him. Shane gets a tingle at the base of his spine, the urge to make something happen, anything.He leans against the wall near their tables, on the opposite side from Eugene, pretending to be engrossed in conversations around him, while actually being finely attuned to each of Eugene’s moves.People still come up to greet him, still compliment him on his look, heads still turn, but somehow all the other looks stop mattering when Eugene looks.A predatory stalk, that’s what it looks like when Eugene finally makes his move. He doesn’t stop until he’s almost flush with Shane’s chest, on his tiptoes – and Eugene doesn’t usually tiptoe for anyone.“You look like you’re about to ruin my life.”“You look like you’re okay with it.”Eugene doesn’t answer. He just smirks and nods, fingers curling into Shane’s belt loops.Neither of them talk much from that point on. A quick slip through the crowd and out the bar. A frantic discovering in the alley while they wait for the Uber. A breathless “Yeah?” and a hungry nod enough to know they’re on the same page.Strained looks and subtle pawing in the Uber, and suddenly at last, they tumble through Eugene’s front door.“You look like you’re about to ruin my throat.”Eugene is already on his knees.
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Ryan should have known from the start. There had been clues. Sara’s less than innocent twinkle in her eye when she suggested a double date with him and Zack. Shane wearing his pink shirt when he opened the door – the one Ryan dubbed his hot mess shirt because it invariably ended up half-unbuttoned, hanging on Shane’s lanky frame while he was too drunk to care.Sure enough, he’s three buttons undone by the time they finish dinner and Sara rolls up a blunt. Shane’s choosing a record to put on, and Ryan’s actually glad they’re getting high – despite all the signs pointing at this being a Bad Idea – because Shane and Sara’s music tends to be pretty hit or miss. Usually appreciated better with a little buzz. Static echoes as Shane switches the turn table on. Flame flickers as Sara lights up. Cheeks blush as she inhales. Throat bobs as Zack takes a sip of beer.Ryan stretches to take the joint Sara’s offering him. He’s sitting on the floor, hugging his legs as he takes a drag, trying not to cough – it’s been a while. He passes it to Zack, letting his hand fall to his thigh. Zack leans in closer. They’d been a bit self-conscious about PDA since they got together, but this is Shane and Sara, this could hardly be counted as public, it’s just a chill hang out.Sara looks. She looks and smiles, and instead of turning shy, Ryan feels validated. She likes this, he thinks, and why it matters is not important, here and now.Zack passes back to him and he takes a few drags before giving it to Shane. Shane sprawls down on the couch, half wrapped around Sara, but he’s looking at Zack as he smokes. Just looking, nothing else, but it’s a bit unsettling.It couldn’t even be called staring. His eyes are soft, unsearching. Just appreciative.Zack blushes and drinks, drinks until Shane passes the blunt to him again, hand lingering on his.Shane just says, “I’m really glad you guys came over tonight,” but he’s clearly talking to Zack and Zack only in this moment, still holding his hand.Zack looks too dazed and blindsided to charmingly bro his way out of this one. He looks cornered and, if Ryan reads him correctly, aroused.Now that Ryan thinks about it, he’s also aroused himself.It feels like watching someone else’s dream. Zack takes a drag or two, stands up and holds out a hand to Sara. She takes the joint in one hand, takes his hand in the other, and he pulls her up, makes her twirl around the living room.Giggles and candlelight – when did they light candles? – blur together with joy in Ryan’s heart. Next thing he knows, he’s sitting in Shane’s lap, with no idea how it happened, but quite content about the situation.Giggles intensify and Ryan looks over to see Zack’s face buried into Sara’s neck and her shrieking that it tickles.“Is this okay?” Shane’s voice is a low rumble in his eyes. Goosebumps and chills.Shane’s warm form under him.Sara’s smile.Zack’s hands on her.A hazy thought tells Ryan this is probably what Shane and Sara had in mind when they invited them over.More goosebumps.“Yeah.”The soft, heady music mixes with the smoke on Ryan’s skin and Shane kisses it. His neck, his shoulder through his shirt, a smear of lips on his cheek and then Shane’s turning him to face him.Shane exhales a puff of smoke, and Ryan didn’t even know he was the one with the blunt – or is there a second one now? – and he kisses Ryan, lips soft and warm together.Ryan sees in his mind, even though they’re standing behind him so he couldn’t, Zack wrapping Sara’s legs around his waist – her skirt rides up in the most delicious way – and spinning around the room, belting out lyrics that are not meant to be belted out.They crash on the couch next to Shane and Ryan, limbs and breaths tangled together and for the first time since this started, Ryan’s able to look his boyfriend in the eye.“Yeah,” they breathe out at the same time, and seal it with a kiss.“Aren’t they gorgeous together?” Ryan vaguely hears, and he just replies, “you’re gorgeous,” and he kisses Sara desperately, pulling her half into Shane’s lap.Zack’s hand find its way under Shane’s shirt, his mouth finds Shane’s and fuck, Ryan never realized how much he needed this.He’s in love with Zack. Carefree, charming Zack.But he also needs Shane. Absurd, infuriating Shane.And Sara. Wonderful, mischievous Sara.It’s never been clearer, even though everything’s kinda hazy.The blunts come to an end, but the night doesn’t.
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Even the rain falling hard on him couldn’t dampen Steven’s anticipation. He would wait on this deserted street corner until Ben showed, oblivious to the warm pubs and coffee shops around him that wanted nothing more than to offer shelter and warmth.He could text Ben, tell him to meet elsewhere. But the rain actually felt good on his too tight skin, fizzy with anticipation.They hadn’t seen each other in months. At first Steven didn’t think it would be that bad. After all, Ben was hardly his closest friend in LA. But something happened when he moved. He started thinking of Ben all the time – or maybe he always had, but never noticed, because Ben was always right there. So they started texting, and after a while, even that wasn’t enough, so they started video calling, and after a while, Ben just went god I wish I could hug you. It had been a long day – a long week, a long month – and Steven almost cried at that. What he missed the most since he got to New York, was physical closeness, human touch. He had friends, sure, but no one he knew well enough to just hug for no reason.Maybe Ben saw it in his eyes. Maybe Ben knew him more than he thought.But the next time they videocalled, Ben had stars in his eyes and could barely sit still.“I got a surprise for you,” he said.And then he flashed a piece of paper. The lighting was bad, Steven could only see a white rectangle.“Well that’s anticlimactic,” Steven teases.Ben blushes and says. “It’s a plane ticket.”“Where are you going?”“To see you, silly.”Steven can’t reply for a long time. His throat is dry, his chest feels tight.“Is – is this okay?” Ben frowns. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”“It’s wonderful.” Steven finally finds his voice. “I can’t wait, Ben, this is such a great surprise!”So there Steven is. Standing in the dark, in the pouring rain, vibrating out of his skin with excitement and something else.Something that’s been growing in a secret corner of his heart for the past months.Something he doesn’t feel when he’s about to meet his other friends, no matter how long it’s been since they last met.The rain stops. Steven looks up, and there, across the street, is Ben.Two strides and Steven is in the middle of the street.“You made it!”Ben hurries across to meet him, dropping all his stuff in his wake, duffel bag and backpack, not giving a damn about it being the middle of the street, or the asphalt being still wet from the rain.He falls into Steven’s arms and they share the longest, tightest embrace, as if neither of them wanted to let go in case they’d disappear.“Steven,” Ben gasps.“You’re here,” Steven says incredulously.They’re both drenched, hair plastered against their foreheads, clothes soaked, shivering against each other, yet they can’t let go.Ben pulls away to look at Steven, cups his cheek. “I’m here.”Steven doesn’t even think about it. That small part of his heart that’s been trying to make him understand for months suddenly takes over. He leans in, and so does Ben.Their lips meet and everything fades away. The cold, the rain, Ben’s uncomfortable plane ride, his luggage getting drenched in the middle of the street.Nothing matters except being together at last, touching at last, breathing the same air and looking through these lovely eyes without a grainy screen between the two of them.“It was a one-way ticket,” Ben says, through chattering teeth.“I wouldn’t have let you go back anyway.”
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Clubbing with coworkers he doesn’t really know. Not Ryan’s favourite way to spend a Saturday night. But Kelsey invited him, even though it wasn’t really his crowd – except for Steven – and he went, although he couldn’t really say why. And he had an amazing time.It was one of his first time meeting YB, Kelsey’s best friend, outside of work, and it felt, oddly, like a test? He felt the same way he did when he first met past girlfriends’ parents. Which is ridiculous. He’s not dating Kelsey, and he already knows these people.YB must have approved or something, because by the end of the evening, they’re all fairly drunk, and Kelsey pulls him into her lap, and she’s gorgeous.He could kiss her. He doesn’t. Cameras are out and he doesn’t feel like telling the world – or, like, Instagram – what he doesn’t even know himself yet.So Ryan sees her home in a Lyft, even though that adds a good thirty minutes to his ride home. She squeezes his hand before getting out of the car and flashes him one of her sparkling smiles.“Thanks for coming out, Ry. I had an amazing time.”“Thanks for inviting me,” he feels like he slurs a bit. Maybe bottle service was a bit too much. “I had fun.”He could kiss her.He doesn’t.She just there, she’s sending him all kinds of signals, he could just lean in.But her edges are fuzzy so maybe the signals are just in his drunken mind and he’d better wait.***Ryan spends the weekend thinking about Kelsey and trying to convince himself he’s not. The more he thinks about her, the more he realizes she’s perfect for him. Same interests, same outlook on life, same sense of humor.That’s a dangerous train of thought. He tries to stop it, tries to slow it down, but it’s still dangerous.It’s dangerous because it’s possible. They’re both single, they’re friends, they get along great. They’d have so much fun together.Ryan can’t find any reason to nip this in the bud. And that, in itself, is risky. Because when Ryan falls, he goes all in, like in everything he does.He waits a few days, to see if it’s just a fluke, but no dice. Kelsey’s smile is burned in his retinas, the only think he can see when he closes his eyes.So he pulls out his phone. Sends a text. The seventh draft is the winner – not too pushy, not too obvious, just cutesy enough.
Spooky season’s upon us, wanna Disney it up?
He peppers it with choice seasonal emojis, clenches his eyes shut and holds his breath.Presses Send.Of course, she answers immediately that she’d love it, with a bunch of hearteyes emojis Ryan’s trying not to read too much into. He doesn’t ask just the two of us? and neither does she. He hopes she won’t bring other friends but the last thing he wants to do is ask, in case she doesn’t want it to be a date.Ryan lets out a relieved sigh when he picks her up and she’s waiting for him, alone. She doesn’t mention picking up anyone else and he can’t help but notice how nice she looks.Well, she always looks nice, she’s a stunner, but there’s something, today, something Ryan can’t name, but it feels like she went the extra mile.For him maybe?He blushes at the thought, drums out his nervousness on the steering wheel. They fall into easy conversation, to his relief. It’s their first time spending time one on one, and he’d been worried it would be awkward. Turns out they both talk A Lot, so it’s easy to fill the silence.“Unpopular opinion,” she says at one point. “I would be one hundred percent okay with it if they turned Disneyland into a Halloween thing year round.”“Yes! Thank you! I’ve been saying this for years!”“Why should the spook be confined to October?”He could kiss her.He doesn’t.Mainly because he’s driving, and, although kissing Kelsey would be a nice way to go, he doesn’t exactly want to go just yet.Did Ryan need more proof that they’re compatible across the board?No.But boy, does he get it.They like the same rides, the same shops, the same underrated snack cart where there’s never a line.Is it too early to joke about a Disney wedding?Probably should wait to see if this is actually a date.***They come out of Splash Mountain and Kelsey tries to dry out. She volunteered to sit in the front, so she got most of the splash, even though Ryan tried to do the gentleman thing and take the front, but she wouldn’t have it.“The splash is half the fun! If I didn’t wanna get wet I’d just go on the Mountain.”The sun is almost set, however, and the air is chilly, so soon enough, she starts shivering. Ryan takes off his denim jacket and wraps her around her shoulders.His knees almost give out at how gorgeous she looks in it, Kelsey in his jacket. She slips her arms in the too-long sleeves and brings it up to her face, breathing it in.“Hmm. I hope you know I’m never giving this back.”He could kiss her.He does.
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Second-hand lovers. That’s what it feels like sometimes. You both would have been someone else’s if life had worked out for you.But when has life ever worked the way you wanted it?You make the most of it together. It starts as a drunken tumble. A way to forget. But when Sunday morning comes and the beer haze lifts, you find yourselves, still there, clinging across the bed, not for some unrequited absent shape, but for each other.You share a smile. A kiss that says let’s give it a shot, that says, forget everything else.Soon, the wistful name murmured at the edge of your mind fades away, replaced by Ryan. Soothing, incredible Ryan, with whom you surprise yourself making long term plans. Things you never allowed yourself to wish for, because you were always waiting on him.Secondhand lovers, yeah, but in the way you find something at the thrift shop and it calls your name and it becomes your favourite thing in your closet and you know – you just know – there’s no way the previous owner could have loved it half as much as you do. You were meant to be.He looks at you with these bright eyes and that sunshine smile, he laughs until he can’t breathe, and you can’t help but join in, wonder how you could ever want anything else.He pulls you into his strong arms and you melt into them, feeling grounded, feeling like they’re your new home, wonder how you could ever want anything else.He asks you about your day, and his eyes shine in interest, and he asks about the Kings, even though he hates them, and he’s happy for you when they win, and you feel seen, wonder how you could ever want anything else.You want to go to sleep in his arms, wake up to his smile, brighter than any sunrise. You want him to be there when you’re happy and when you’re sad; when you’re tired and when you’re drunk, stumbling across the doorway together, giggling about squirrels or some shit.So you buy flowers, and you make dinner, and you light candles all over your apartment. You go down on one knee, because you suspect he likes this kind of stupid romantic shit – and if you’re being completely honest, so do you.His eyes go wide, incredulous. He’s almost shaking in anticipation and you can’t help giggling a tiny bit at his reaction.“Move in with me.”
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Good beer, good movie, leftover Halloween candy, and a warm lap to lay your head in. That’s all Shane needs, really. Andrew’s got his feet up on the coffee table, one hand petting Shane’s hair.Every once in a while, he pauses the movie to correct historical facts or supply some trivia. Shane doesn’t mind – in fact, it’s one of his favorite things about Andrew. That, and the fact that after each of these interruptions, Andrew unwraps a fun sized candy bar and feeds it to him.They haven’t been together long enough for Shane to have said anything about it yet. But tonight. – well, Shane’s a little buzzed, the night is young… it feels like the right time. Andrew unwraps a candy. His voice takes on this dark heat as he says “open up,” thumb grazing Shane’s lip.Shane opens his mouth, takes the candy, tongue lingering behind to lick Andrew’s fingers.Sure enough, Andrew squirms under him. His breath quickens, pulse racing. Shane swallows the candy and sits up, smirking.“So,” he says, and Andrew turns bright red. “That’s a nice kink you got there.”Andrew’s voice goes all high-pitched and he crosses his legs self-consciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”“No? I’ve seen the show, babe. I know you like feeding people.”“That doesn’t mean it’s a kink.”“It does when you get off on it.”“I – I don’t?” Andrew’s voice falters. So does Shane’s fun in teasing him.He doesn’t want to be cruel, and right now, it’s clear his boyfriend feel insecure. He sits closer, slides an arm around Andrew’s shoulders.“Baby…” he says soothingly. “I didn’t want to shame you. I just… just wanted to know if this is something you’d want to me explore with me.”Andrew turns wide eyes towards him. “Really?”“Do you trust me?”“Of course.”“I trust you too. I don’t fully understand what you get out of this but I’m willing to learn.”He can feel the tension leaving Andrew, as he slouches lower into Shane’s embrace. Shane kisses the top of his head, pulls him tight against him, enjoying the way Andrew’s small frame fits perfectly into his arms, like a puzzle piece.Andrew takes in a deep breath. Maybe he’s smelling Shane, maybe he’s bracing to open up. He finally looks up, fingers curled tightly into Shane’s soft flannel, looking more vulnerable than Shane’s ever seen him.“It’s hard to explain – it just feels amazing. It’s intimate, you know? And it creates a bond with the person, like you’re sharing an experience with them? And like –“ Andrew flushes a deep red – “I have a thing for lips and tongues.”Shane chuckles at that and very deliberately licks his lips. Andrew’s eyes widen.“You tease,” he gasps.“Mhm… what are you gonna do about it?”Andrew suddenly gets all serious, his gaze heated, mouth open and panting. He cups Shane’s jaw, softly, and his thumb comes up to graze Shane’s lips.With unwavering focus, he runs his thumb across Shane’s lips, like he wants to memorize them, and at last, he slips his thumb between them. Shane lets him in, lets him take the lead, knowing it’s part of the appeal for Andrew.Andrew replaces his thumb with two fingers and presses down on Shane’s tongue, making him drool. The feeling of helplessness is dizzying and Shane lets out a little groan.“Is this okay,” Andrew says breathlessly, his gaze never leaving Shane’s mouth.“Yeah,” Shane mumbles around his fingers. “Yeah, fuck.”“Thank you,” Andrew says. “Doing this with you… god, your mouth is incredible.”Shane can’t help himself. He slides off the couch, on his knees for Andrew, and pulls down his pyjamas. He needs to use his mouth to make Andrew feel good.“Shane, fuck,” Andrew groans, his head hitting the back of the couch. “Please,” he says, as Shane starts teasing, barely even licking the tip.“Feed it to me,” Shane whispers, and Andrew’s hips buck up.“Oh god, babe…”Andrew has to take a few deep breaths so he doesn’t come before they’ve even began, but eventually starts pushing into Shane’s mouth, slowly.He holds his chin with one hand, thumbing at the stretch of his lips, the other hand fisted into Shane’s hair.He doesn’t last long. Soon his hips start stuttering, fucking deeper into Shane’s throat, and he groans before coming, in thick spurts coating Shane’s tongue. A strand of it drops down Shane’s chin and Andrew catches it with his thumb.“Open up.”
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It‘s a slice of meat, but it feels like dessert, the way Steven presents it to Shane. Like the most decadent chocolate mousse, like something luxurious prepared just for him.Steven feeds it to him and lingers – a look of hunger in his eyes reflecting the one in Shane’s. There’s a sweetness in it – one that’s present in everything Steven does, and it completely disarms Shane to be on the receiving end of it. He feels a flush creeping across his cheeks and hopes he can blame it on Kwesi’s ponche. With every dish that comes out, Shane feels Steven’s gaze on him, like nothing around the table matters to him more than Shane’s reaction.“You like it?” Steven asks, and it seems like he’s asking everyone, but his eyes are fixed on Shane only, gaze heavy and inviting.Shane, who finds himself currently unable to answer, throat dry despite the wine, and can only nod timidly. His reaction could get lost in the many appreciative voices around the table, but Steven sits back in his chair, satisfied and still looking at him.Shane stays in a daze for the rest of the meal, acutely aware of Steven’s gaze on him. He can barely join the conversations around him, and is grateful that bantering with Ryan comes so easy to him – he doesn’t need much brainpower to do it and it’s gonna be great on camera.Bless Rie and her roulette russe croquembouche: the wasabi jumpstarts his synapses out of their trance, allowing him to finally think of something other than Steven. He laughs with the others at Ryan’s reaction – it seems to be affecting him way more – and when he meets Steven’s gaze again, his heart only slightly tries to somersault out of his chest.Someone gets up to start cleaning and they turn the cameras off. Shane figures it’s a good time to excuse himself to the bathroom and deal with things – his battered tastebuds or his bewildered heart, he’s not sure yet.He’s halfway through closing the bathroom door behind him when Steven slides in, nimble as a cat. He offers a cream puff wrapped in a napkin and a smile that makes Shane’s heart go wheeeee!!!“Something sweet, for the burn,” Steven explains. “Guaranteed wasabi-free,” he adds with an apologetic grin.Shane chuckles and pops the whole thing in his mouth. The sweet cream filling helps quell the fire in his mouth, but not the one in his heart. Steven is still staring at him, and honestly, at this point, Shane’s all blushed out. After the spice and all the self consciousness, there’s no way any more blood could make its way to his face – so it flows downwards instead.He swallows and licks the cream off his lips, hoping his sweater’s long enough to cover strategic stuff. (It isn’t.)“You still got a little –“ Steven points at his lips – “here, let me…”Steven tiptoes all the way up to Shane’s face. So gently that Shane half wonders if it really happened, Steven licks a stray bit of cream off his bottom lip.Steven is the blushy one now, and that’s probably the sweetest thing Shane’s ever seen. This newfound bashfulness does more to embolden Shane than the wasabi ever did, and he backs Steven against the sink. Steven inhales sharply when his backside hits the counter, tilts his head up to look at Shane, eyes wide with anticipation.“I think you missed a spot…” Shane licks lightly at the corner of Steven’s mouth before pulling away.Steven gasps and pulls him back by his belt loops. “Where do you think you’re going?”“Oh, I thought we were just teasing.”“Pffff.”“You’re pretty cute when you pout.”“I’m always cute.”“That you are.” This time, Shane kisses him for real, and the heat in his mouth has nothing to do with novelty desserts and everything to do with the tongue of a gorgeous boy.
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When Garrett pitched the new show, he had a few cohosts in mind. Gadiel was not one of them. Order Up wasn’t meant to replace Homebuddies, but it would probably attract the same audience, and Gadiel was about as different to Niki as anyone could be. But Garrett sucks it up and decides to make it work – he’s got high hopes for this show and can’t afford to let the unexpected throw him off his game. And boy, did the unexpected came out at Le Petit Ermitage. Chickens. Clowns. A puppy. A bedtime story acted out by a steampunk voodoo priest or something. At which point Gadiel became his homebase, his only stable ground in a batshit crazy shoot, Garrett couldn’t say. Maybe during breakfast, when Gadiel looks over at him, beaming at his own pastrami joke and Garrett can’t help but beam back. Maybe when the puppy comes out and Garrett goes all soft and self-conscious about it, only to realize that Gadiel is also cooing over the dog. Maybe when Gadiel’s idea of dressing up is non-ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Maybe it’s the way he looks at Garrett in his dressy clothes like he’s trying not to stare. The point is, Garrett’s having fun. Gadiel’s chiller than he thought, rolling with the punches and absolutely delighted by the luxury lavished on them. There’s just something in the way Gadiel smiles that makes Garrett want to see it again. After dinner, they go out for drinks on the hotel rooftop – after shooting some b-roll, it’s just the two of them: a nice break, away from the cameras and the crew. Gadiel looks even better after a few drinks, and it seems like he’s thinking the same, because he’s sitting closer, leaning in, eyes bright with mischief. “How’s your throat?” Garrett asks, immediately regretting the way he phrased it. He really just meant to inquire about Gadiel’s stupidly self-inflicted allergic reaction, but now he’s sort of……staring at Gadiel’s throat. His adam’s apple is bobbing up and down as he clears his throat and swallows, testing how it feels. “Feels okay. I told you not to worry, man, I had it under control.”“Having an allergic reaction is not having things under control! What’s wrong with –“Gadiel laughs, all pearly white teeth and crinkly eyes, and that stops Garrett’s tirade right there. “It’s kinda cute how you worry bout me.”Garrett drains his drink. “Yes. Well. I think the crew’s waiting for us.” He checks his non-existent watch. “C’m’on.”It’s like this hotel is trying to mess with them. The late night snack comes with a side of bedtime story, by this intimidatingly cool character who just walks in and tells them to get in bed together. Be cozy. Glad of the excuse, but a bit nervous, Garrett slides in next to Gadiel under the covers. He doesn’t really have time to enjoy or overthink it – the storyteller commands their attention and weaves an enthralling tale that prevents their minds from wandering. They’re still under his spell after he leaves, and they film the obligatory good night shots in their respective beds before the crew leaves them alone, so there’s no time for awkwardness to really set in. Gadiel switches the light off and Garrett turns in his bed, repressing a shiver. “You good, man?” Gadiel asks. His voice is different in the dark. Soft around the edges, like. “I’m fine, just – my sheets are cold.”“Mine are toasty.” Garrett can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.“Unfair.”“Quit whining and climb in,” Gadiel says, and it sounds almost like a dare. Like Gadiel doesn’t really think Garrett will do it. Garrett’s a bit shocked, to be honest. Gadiel acts like such a dude all the time, Garrett would have expected him to have some kind of hang up about sleeping in the same bed. To no homo his way out of it. But he can see, even through the darkness, that Gadiel’s holding the covers open, scooching to the other side to let Garrett have the place he just vacated – the warmest spot. Garrett slips in, and this time, there’s more nervousness. They’re not doing this for a video. They’re not doing this because they were told to by a commanding man. They’re just. Doing this. Gadiel pulls the blankets higher, almost tucking Garrett in, and it makes him feel all soft inside, and a bit unsettled. What does that mean? Does it even mean something? Where is the line – and is Garrett willing to risk it all to find it?He turns to face Gadiel, who’s also on his side, and their knees bump together. Garrett chuckles, a bit breathless. “Sorry. Got a lot of leg.”“S’okay, man. Wouldn’t have asked you to come over if I minded a bit of touching.”It feels like Garrett’s heart is trying to beat out of his chest and possibly slap the both of them in the face for being idiots. Garrett decides to go for it before he starts hyperventilating. He laces his fingers through Gadiel’s and scooches across the pillow to brush their noses together. “Or a lot?” he asks hopefully. “Or a lot.”Gadiel kisses like he laughs – whole-heartedly and sunshine-filled. It tastes like the chocolate and strawberries they just had, and Garrett doesn’t think he could ever go back to being coworkers that don’t kiss. It took two chickens, a duck, a clown, a voodoo priest and a string quartet to get them together, and Garrett thinks that nothing could be so fitting for two weird guys like him and Gadiel.