Page 69 of Best Supporting Actor

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Tag

The morning afterBow Streetaired, Tag woke feeling warm and content. Then he rolled over and saw Jay’s dark, rumpled head on the neighbouring pillow, and the events of the night before came flooding back to him in a headlong rush. He braced himself for awkwardness, but when, moments later, Jay stirred and turned over… he smiled. And that made Tag smile back. He had no idea quitehowgoofy his smile was, but he knew it must be goofy, because it was so wide his cheeks actually hurt. But he couldn’t put the smile away, or even make it smaller. And maybe that was a good thing, because Jay kept smiling too, in fact, his smile widened, and when Tag moved towards him, he let Tag kiss him.

Kissing Jay in the morning light, completely sober, was just as amazing as kissing him the night before had been. Maybe even more amazing because it felt soeasy. Jay’s body relaxed beneath Tag’s, and he wrapped his arms around him, returning the kiss. And when, a few minutes later, Tag took both of their cocks in hand and began to lazily stroke, Jay arched up into Tag’s grip, moaning with pleasure, till Tag brought them to a satisfyingly mutual orgasm.

And that was how it went for the next whole week, at least when they were alone in the apartment. At night they slept in Jay’s bed, and in the morning, they woke up together. And those nights and mornings were fucking perfect, even when Tag was easing under the covers in the early hours after working a late shift.

They’d agreed to keep what was happening between them secret. Tag didn’t want to get a reputation as someone who slept his way to success, but that wasn’t the only reason to stay quiet. Henry discouraged romantic entanglements between cast members because they could throw off delicate company dynamics. That wasn’t a risk worth taking when they were so close to opening. So, at rehearsal, in front of the others, they acted like nothing more than friends.

It made things a bit weird between them sometimes, though. They didn’t just flip back to intimacy as soon as they got back to the apartment after rehearsal. Tag felt like he had to coax Jay back to him each evening.

It helped that Tag was a tactile guy, not only with his romantic partners, but with everyone. He would hug his friends, kiss their cheeks, squeeze their shoulders. Now he lavished all that easy, warm affection on Jay, and Jay responded, like a thirsty plant that had finally been watered. It wouldn’t happen right away, but once they’d been home a while, he would slowlyunfurl, relaxing into Tag’s touch, letting Tag tangle their limbs together and shower him with affection. It was weirdly gratifying. Like winning over a standoffish cat.

And then there was the sex. The sex was… fucking amazing actually, though not in an easy-breezy way. Tag had realised by now that Jay had some issues with sex. They hadn’t discussed what those issues were, not yet, but it was pretty obvious to Tag that someone in his past had hurt him. Damaged his confidence. Jay seemed to think he wasn’t very good in bed, which Tag found incomprehensible. But Jay clearly believed it. There were a lot of little self-deprecating remarks to that effect, and sometimes—not always but sometimes—he’d get visibly anxious, pulse racing, breath coming quick and shallow, erection wilting. Strangely, it often happened just when he appeared to be most turned on, as though some trap in his mind had been sprung.

At first, Jay was mortified every time it happened. He seemed to assume Tag would find it pathetic, or maybe funny, but when Tag kept reacting with the same calm, easy-going patience, he gradually began to relax. He was still wary and embarrassed when it happened, but Tag thought he was beginning to trust him, to believe the soothing words Tag would say to reassure him. And once the panic passed, it wasn’t difficult to build his arousal back up. Not to mention that the climax, when it came, was always intense, almost as though the enforced wait made the final payoff that much sweeter.

Afterwards, Jay would get this look in his eyes, like Tag had done something extraordinary or heroic. And honestly? It made Tag feel about ten feet tall. No one had ever made him feel so fucking accomplished before in his life.

So far, they had stuck to blowjobs, handjobs, and frotting. It was good every time—hell, it wasfantastic. Tag didn’t need anything else. But yeah, it was maybe a little weird that they didn’t even discuss other options. Ordinarily, Tag would have raised it with a partner by now, but he wanted to be patient with Jay. He had a sinking suspicion that if he raised the possibility of having penetrative sex, Jay might not be honest about how he really felt about it. And the very last thing he wanted was for Jay to agree to something he didn’t actually want to do.

So instead, he stayed quiet and just tried to give Jay all the space he needed to tell Tag silently—with his body, and his expressive stormy gaze, and his incredible responsiveness—what he wanted. And right now, it seemed to Tag that Jay already had everything he wanted. He didn’t seem to need anything more. Which was good because there were other pressing matters to think about, not least the fact that the festival was starting next week. Opening night was just five days away.

Bea and Henry seemed happy with how the production was shaping up, though there were still a few scenes Henry wanted to perfect. Jay was working a lot with Rafe, insisting he get to rehearse every scene. Meanwhile, Freddie was running around like a blue-arsed fly most days, finalising the set, lighting, and costumes and updating her promptbook. Although it was a fairly minimal production, there were a lot of moving parts and, with little technical help on offer from the venue, Freddie had her work cut out.

As for Tag himself, he wasn’t sure there were words for how he felt about the play. He’d always loved acting, but this was the first time in his life he’d experienced a sense of real community with a company—and in Jay, a genuine, deep connection with another actor. He had the sense that what he and Jay were creating together was more than their individual performances, and that was exciting. A little scary too. In a strange way, it was scarier than doing a one-man production. Something about it being just the two of them, how fully they had to rely on one another, made it feel more perilous somehow. Letting himself down would be one thing, but letting Jay down would be a thousand million times worse.

On top of all that, the reactions toBow Streethad started coming through. And they were good. Really good, both from the critics and in terms of viewing figures. The cherry on the cake, though, was hearing that Tag’s own performance had been singled out for praise by a couple of big-name critics. A fact that he only knew because his mum was sending him links to each and every complimentary review that mentioned his character. Which was nice because he’d been following Jay’s rather stern advice not to read the reviews until the play’s run was over, in case a bad one damaged his performance. So it was good to see some of the glowing praise, pre-vetted by his mum.

Hedidunderstand where Jay was coming from, though. Especially with the play opening so soon.

“You don’t want anything to undermine your self belief,” Jay had warned one evening over dinner. “Focus on your process, on your performance, and don’t think about what the critics are saying. They’re only trying to make themselves sound clever, anyway.”

Tag didn’t think his ego was so fragile that a bad review or two would knock his confidence; God knew he'd dealt with bigger obstacles than that over the years. It clearly concerned Jay, though, and he did have more experience than Tag. So, if Jay reckoned there was a risk that a bad review ofBow Streetmight impact Tag’s performance in the play, it wasn’t a risk worth taking. Tag wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise the dynamic he and Jay were creating together inLet Us Go Back.

On Friday morning, a full week after they first got together, they were walking to rehearsal when Jay said, out of the blue, “My mother called me yesterday.”

Tag, who had been thinking about how much he wanted to tangle his fingers with Jay’s as they walked, glanced at him. “Yeah?” Jay hadn’t mentioned this yesterday, but it wasn’t an unusual event. Dame Cordelia called at least once a week, though unlike Tag’s mum, she was never on for long.

“She’s coming to York—she’ll be here now, actually. She’s staying with my godparents.” Jay gave a little grimace and added, “Apparently, my godmother isinsistingon throwing a pre-opening party for us tomorrow night.” He rolled his eyes.

“That’s nice,” Tag said carefully. It was pretty obvious Jay didn’t think so, but Tag wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t a little bit pleased at the thought of meetingtheDame Cordelia Warren at a party being thrown in honour of the play he was starring in.

Jay sighed. “She says it’s going to be very small, but it won’t be. It never bloody is. And it’s obviously not Mandy’s idea. This has my mother written all over it.”

Tag felt a pang of sympathy that was tangled up with other things—fond amusement at Jay’s frustrated expression, schoolboyish excitement of his own. Brushing the back of his hand against Jay’s, he said, “Hey. It’ll be fun. I’llmakeit fun for you, I promise.”

Jay glanced at him, mouth quirking. “Yeah?”

“I’mverygood value at parties,” Tag said immodestly. “You know that; you’ve seen me in action.”

“I have,” Jay agreed. “And you are, it’s true—especially in those silver shorts.” He sent Tag a heated look. Tag laughed and waggled his eyebrows.

“I know I sound like an ungrateful sod,” Jay added. “I do realise shemeanswell.”

“I get it,” Tag said.