Page 20

Xander

Tristan got both of us wine glasses as I wandered into the living room and sat on his large, squishy couch, and he sat down next to me a moment later, picking up a remote and turning on the TV and dimming the overhead lights in the same turn.

"Smooth," I teased, picking up the bottle of wine and pouring us both a healthy glass.

Admittedly, I hadn't even noticed that we weren't drinking wine with dinner; I'd been too enraptured by Tristan - both his surprising cooking skills and the man himself.

He chuckled, flipping to streaming and scrolling through movies.

"I'd like to say that I had the dimmer put in to support my impressive seduction skills, but that was already installed when I bought the house." He winked at me.

"But I'm glad you like it."

My stomach flipped as he turned on a random comedy - thank God, I couldn't handle a bunch of muscled-out bro guys shooting each other with guns bigger than their cocks right now - and then, in a move that made my stomach swoop, casually slid his arm behind me and wrapped it around my waist, pulling me up close to his side.

"Oh.

Hi," I managed, my voice a squeak.

I would have been embarrassed by it if Tristan's eyes hadn't flashed with heat when he heard it, and I licked my lips, my stomach flipping again when his eyes dropped to my mouth.

"Hi," he said softly.

He squeezed my side, and then his hand slid up to play with the hairs at the base of my neck, making me swallow.

"This is really nice."

The words dripped with sincerity, and I nodded, knowing that he meant them.

"It is," I murmured.

"T-thank you...for asking me over."

His eyes flashed again, and he nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Mm."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips along my jaw in the barest, sweetest kiss before he pulled away and turned his attention to the movie playing in front of us, and I was frozen, barely able to figure out where I ended and he began.

Despite the fact that my stomach was pleasantly full from the fucking fantastic meal that Tristan had cooked for us, I was buzzing with energy that begged to be released.

We sat in relative silence for a while, watching the movie, but I was the first to admit that I didn't absorb a single thing about it.

No, the only thing that I could focus on was the feeling of Tristan's fingers on the back of my neck, gently carding through my hair as he hummed and chuckled along with a movie that he had clearly seen a bunch of times.

"Do you usually like comedies?" I finally asked, about half an hour in.

My voice came out a little breathy and tight, but admittedly, I was holding it together pretty well for someone whose cock had been hovering somewhere between half hard and full mast ever since I'd walked into the house.

"Mm.

Sometimes.

Depends on my mood." Tristan looked at me, his lips curved in a soft smile.

"If I'm in the mood for something to catch my attention, I like suspense or horror.

If I want to take a nap or rest, I put on a sitcom. Comedies are for when I want background noise that I can laugh at, but don't really need my full attention because I have better things to do."

His eyes flashed, and oh, fuck.

"Mm." I took a chance, and stood up.

His eyes followed me, and for a split second, I desperately missed the feeling of his hands on me.

That feeling dissolved immediately the next moment, though, because I straddled Tristan's lap and settled my full weight on top of him, forcing him to look up at me as I smirked, enjoying the change in power dynamic.

"Something better to do?"

I grinned wider at him, and his eyes briefly closed, his lips parting, before they opened again and he looked at me with unrestrained hunger.

"Baby..." The pet name made my heart flutter, and my hips jerked, gently rolling against him so that he could feel what he was doing to me.

What he always did to me.

"Yeah?" I asked, breathy.

He growled, his hands finding my hips and gripping.

The movie continued to play behind us, but neither of us paid attention to it, too lost in each other.

"This...is technically our first date," he said, his voice equally strained and rough.

His fingers flexed on my hips, as if he were trying to remind himself why we shouldn't be doing this.

And admittedly...yeah, that was probably the smart decision.

Taking things slow.

But I'd already seen the real Tristan through the course of the night.

The sweet man that cooked a meal from scratch for me, who had different tastes in tv depending on his mood, that didn't have much of a relationship with his family but was very fond of them regardless.

I knew that he and Brandon were close, and that Tristan worried that Brandon was even more emotionally constipated than him.

That he liked working for Studio Black, but if the opportunity came to dial it back, he would.

That he didn't know exactly what he would do if he wasn't an adult film star, but that he liked gardening and thought that video social media was the next big thing.

I'd snickered at the idea of Tristan with a gardening Tiktok when he'd mentioned it shyly, but not because I thought he couldn't be successful at it.

Because I knew for a fact that that would turn into a gardening thirst trap account, and people would be staring at him because of his gorgeous face, not his azaleas.

"Yeah, it is," I agreed, whispering.

As if the tension between the two of us would be suddenly broken if we spoke too loud.

I rolled my hips again, relishing the soft growl that erupted from his chest, and cocked my head to the side.

"I think I already know if I like you, though."

Hope sparked to to life in his eyes, his lips parting, and for a moment, I thought that I'd broken him.

With the exception of the moment that he asked me out in the first place, I'd never seen Tristan at a loss for words.

"Fuck." He groaned, and then one of his hands rose, fisting in the back of my hair before he crushed our mouths together with a long sound of satisfaction.

I whimpered, clenching my hands in his shirt and moving closer, trying to get impossibly closer as he kissed me like he was starving for me.

His lips were intense and rough, possessive and claiming, and it was the same as it was when we were on set, but...different at the same time.

This time there were no cameras.

There were no witnesses.

There was just Tristan and me, and our hands and lips on each other, communicating our feelings in a way that words seldom could.

"I really like you too, Xan," Tristan growled, the words desperate when he broke away to drag in a ragged breath.

"So fucking much, baby.

I...I can't...I've never..."

I took the responsibility of words away from him by kissing him again, understanding what Tristan was saying even without him needing to speak it aloud.

I ground my hips down against him, and my breath hitched at the feeling of his hard cock pressed against mine through the layers of our clothes.

"I...fuck..." I whined softly, pulling away and resting my forehead against his, and Tristan's eyes closed for a moment as I thrust against him again, dragging our cocks together.

"Yeah?" His fingers dug into the back of my head, and then his eyes were open again, fixing me with a look that made my stomach flip.

"Feel good, baby?"

He thrust up against me, a deliberate motion of his hips that punched a breath out of me, and I nodded, my cock throbbing and already leaking in my underwear, creating a sticky wet spot.

"Want...fuck..." Words had failed me, but thankfully, Tristan knew what I wanted.

Just like he always did.

"Bedroom," he said breathlessly.

He pulled me in for another hard and rough kiss before nudging me off his lap, and then he grabbed my hand and tugged me through the house and up the stairs so fast that I stumbled trying to follow him.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing a little at that, the way that we were so eager for each other.

Like teenagers discovering what it was like to have someone else touch their cock for the first time.

It was...exhilarating.

Tristan practically kicked down the door at the end of the hallway in his eagerness to get in, and then he pulled me in before whirling around on his heel.

His lips crashed into mine again as he kept pulling me forward, his hands falling to my shirt and tugging up, baring my skin for his wandering fingers.

Fuck. Yes.

"Fuck," Tristan echoed, as if he could read my mind.

He pulled away, just long enough that he could pull my shirt up and over my head, and I did the same to him before he could kiss me again, drinking in the sight of him shirtless in front of me, the flush from his cheeks crawling all the way down his neck.

"Fuck," I agreed, humming.

I kissed him again, pressing chest to chest with him as my hands fell to his waist, pushing his house pants down until the only thing that he was wearing was a pair of tight boxer briefs that did absolutely nothing to hide the way that his cock was rock hard, straining, and fucking leaking.

"Mmm." Tristan groaned into my mouth when I wrapped my hand around his cock, and I relished the power that I held in the palm of my hand, just for a moment.

In every scene that we'd done at the studio, Tristan had been the aggressor, the top, the dominant.

And don't get me wrong; I loved to bottom.

I could top if the situation called for it, but the feeling of looking into a man's eyes as he filled me up was one of my favorites in the world.

That didn't mean that I was submissive, though, and being able to take the lead here, and feeling Tristan fucking love it...it was everything.

"Fuck, baby." Tristan growled into my mouth when I stroked up, squeezing the head of his cock, and he turned the two of us around, biting at my lower lip and making me moan before he gently pushed me back, knocking me off balance just enough that I tumbled on top of the bed.

"These fucking jeans," he gritted out, immediately reaching for the waist of my pants and undoing them.

I watched breathlessly - and with no small amount of amusement - as he pulled them down until I was fully naked in front of him, taking my underwear, socks, and shoes along as he went.

"Impatient," I teased, smiling up at him when he stood again, looming over me like some kind of painfully sexy God.

"Damn straight," he said, shocking me with his honesty.

"I've been wanting you in my bed since the first fucking day, Xander."

He leaned down and kissed me again before I could come up with something to say, and his clothed cock rubbed up against mine when he pressed me into the bed, driving me wild.

I whimpered, thrusting up against him, and he tutted at me quietly when he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with feral amusement as he pushed his hand between our bodies and wrapped it around my cock.

"Patience, baby," he cooed, chuckling when I thrust up into his hand.

"Oh, you're allowed to be impatient, but I'm not?" I asked, gasping when he squeezed me.

He chuckled.

"Exactly."

Then he slid down, his knees thumping against the ground at the side of his bed, and I barely had time to prop myself up on my elbows before he swallowed my cock into the wet heat of his mouth, all the way down to the base with one go.

"Jesus fuck!" I arched off the bed and gasped, my hands flying down to tangle in Tristan's curls, and he hummed happily around my cock as I forced my head up again, looking down at him.

His lips are stretched around me, his eyes bright as he watched me, and his tongue trails up the bottom, making me gasp and groan.

He hums again around me, and pops off, brushing his lips against the head of my cock in a sweet kiss that's somehow perfectly in line with the way that he's lighting every single part of me on fire.

"You look so fucking good like this, baby boy," Tristan whispered, looking up at me.

"All spread out and needy for me."

His tongue flicked out and dragged along my frenulum, tearing a squeak out of me, and Tristan smirked, kissing my cock one more time before he rose to hover over me, the tip of his nose brushing against mine.

"I have one question for you."

I let out a ragged breath, thrusting up against him, cursing the fact that he still wore fucking underwear. "Hmm?"

"Do you want to be fucked?" His eyes gleamed.

"Or do you want to be the one doing the fucking?"

The question didn't register for a moment, and warmth flooded me the moment that it did.

I hadn't been sure if Tristan was vers too, but knowing that he was willing to let me fuck him...

Well, we could explore that another time.

"Fuck me," I said breathlessly.

"Please, Tris.

I want to feel you inside of me."

I pulled him down for a harsh, deep kiss before he could say anything else, and he moaned into my mouth before breaking away, growling, "At the top of the bed, then, baby.

Ass up.

Show me that gorgeous hole of yours."

I groaned at the filthy words, but scrambled to the top of the bed anyway.

I flipped onto my stomach and relished the rumbled that escaped Tristan, and then a moment later his hands were warm on my cheeks, spreading me wide for him.

"So.

Fucking.

Perfect," he growled.

Then a warm tongue prodded against me, and I squeaked, thrashing a little as Tristan set about eating my ass like it was his last meal.

When he'd done this during the cheating scene, it had been aggressive and claiming.

Almost perfunctory, done for both of our pleasure, yes, but also because it looked good for the camera.

Tristan was always thinking about the angles and how things were going to look in the final cut; he was good, like that.

This time, though, it was slow and languid, hungry and possessive.

Tristan tongued my ass not because it looked good or he was thinking about the voyeuristic enjoyment of our viewers, but because he could feel every single time I trembled when his tongue passed over my hole, the whimpers that I was muffling in his pillow as I looked around the slick muscle.

When he pushed one spit-slick finger inside of me, deep enough to brush against my prostate with one thrust, I very nearly came out of my fucking skin.

My cock jerked, and I had to think of laundry, my brother, taxes, anything that would keep me from embarrassing myself and shooting all over his bedspread without my cock even being fucking touched.

"Tristan, fuck," I groaned, clenching down and pressing back against his touch at the same time.

"Fuck, yes..."

Tristan rumbled, and a second finger pushed in, the way made easy from Tristan's teasing.

"You look so fucking good with your tight ass full of my fingers, Xan," Tristan rasped, sounding half-wrecked.

"I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

His fingers thrust deep, spinning my head, and God, I didn't even know what I was doing anymore.

I was there, I was taking his fingers, I was begging for him to fuck me already, the words muffled by the pillow that I kept jamming against my face...

Then his fingers tugged free of my ass, and I clenched down around nothing, feeling open and slick and empty, and I whimpered helplessly when he wrapped one hand around my hip and hushed me.

"Look at me, Xan," he said, his voice soft and sweet but uncharacteristically serious.

"I have one more question for you."

It took a stupid amount of effort - something that I wouldn't be admitting to anyone under threat of death - but I lifted my head and propped myself up enough to look over at Tristan, who was holding up a wrapped condom, his underwear finally gone, his cock hard and hanging heavy between his legs.

"I know that we go bare on set, but if it would make you more comfortable to use a condom here, that's fine with me," he said softly.

Meaningfully.

I swallowed, looking at him, knowing that what he was asking me what much bigger than whether or not I wanted to use protection.

Yes, we had each other's tests to know that we were clean, and had fucked without a condom before.

There was no risk of disease, but what he was really asking...was whether I trusted him.

Fucking without a condom on set was a kink.

Barebacking, comeplay, for the shot of Tristan's spend leaking out of my stretched ass after he'd fucked me.

Fucking without a condom here was entirely different.

Trust between two men...who had feelings for each other.

I swallowed hard, once.

Then, "Bare, Tris.

I trust you."

I could have said more - a part of me desperately wanted to - but I bit the words back when Tristan's eyes flashed with gratitude and hunger, and he tossed the condom to the side before he growled, "On your back, baby.

I want to see your face when I fuck you in my bed for the first time."

I whimpered but obeyed, watching and breathing fast as I watched Tristan slick his cock with lube, teasing his wet fingertips over my hole just for a moment.

I jerked at the feeling of his fingers on the sensitive nerves, and then he pressed forward, hooking his hand under one of my knees to spread me wide, the warm head of his cock nudging up against my hole.

"Breathe for me, baby," he said, his eyes intense on mine as he started to push forward.

And God, it didn't matter how many times we did this, it would never stop being so much.

He was big, the stretch enough to make my mind blank out, and I groaned helplessly as he pushed forward until the head popped in, and then he slid home with one smooth thrust.

"Fuck," I choked out, closing my eyes and relishing the overwhelming fullness.

"Yeah," Tristan said, his voice thick.

"Look at me, Xan."

I forced my eyes open and kept them on his face as he bottomed out, and stayed for a moment.

I clenched around him, the pressure from the inside out almost too much, and God, my cock was leaking.

I was so hard that it was fucking painful, and when Tristan pulled out and thrust again, his pelvis grinding against my cock just for a second, I gasped helplessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered.

"I'm not...Tristan, this is going to be fucking fast."

He chuckled, and then groaned as he leaned down to rest his forehead against mine.

"Thank fucking God," he breathed.

Then he was kissing me, and pounding into me with the abandon of a man who was only concerned with chasing his release.

I lifted my other leg and hooked it up around his waist as he fucked me, the new angle pounding the head of his cock against my prostate with every fucking thrust.

It was incredible.

It was even better than when we were fucking on set, because right now...right now I didn't have to be worried about accidentally calling out the wrong name.

Right now I could look into his eyes and not worry about hiding the intensity of my feelings for this man.

Right now we were just Xander and Tristan...

And he was going to make me fucking come.

"I'm close," I gasped.

"Tristan, I...please..."

I didn't even know what I was begging for anymore.

For him to be closer? For him to fuck me harder?

Tristan knew.

Tristan always fucking knew.

"Fuck yeah, baby," he rasped, reaching behind us and grasping my cock.

His hand was still slick with the lube that he used on himself, and he set a punishing pace, tugging on my cock at the same time as he fucked me.

"You going to shoot all over yourself for me?"

It was too much.

The way that he pounded my prostate, the way that he was stroking me.

The warmth of his breath over my face as he breathed, ragged and intense, the feeling of his cock swelling and twitching inside of me with every thrust...

"Tristan!" His name tore from my lips like a prayer, and my vision whited out as I came.

I moaned helplessly as I painted myself with my own release, and could barely hear Tristan has he growled in my ear, fucking me hard.

"God, fuck yes.

You look so fucking good coming for me, baby.

Love it, God, look at you, fuck, I'm gonna...I'm close..."

The groan that he let out into my ear as he slammed home and followed me over the edge was one of the sexiest things I'd ever heard in my life, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him as he filled me with come.

His breathing and moans in my ear were ragged, and I let out a few more soft whimpers of pleasure as my cock finally stopped jerking, and then Tristan fairly collapsed on top of me, his skin slightly sticky with sweat against mine.

"Oh..." I let out a soft sound when Tristan's mouth crushed against mine, and then let out a soft laugh when he pulled away to grin at me.

"We're messy."

He chuckled, his cock softening and slipping out of me.

Immediately, I felt his come start to leak out, despite clenching down try and keep things together, and he winked at me.

"I like us messy," he teased, his voice breathless.

The way that he was looking at me - fond with a glint of something deeper in his eyes - made me squirm, and I couldn't stop myself from grinning back at him.

"Okay, caveman," I teased.

"Maybe a shower, so that you don't have to do laundry tonight?"

He tossed back his head and laughed and...yeah, this man was basically perfect.

For me. For us.

God, I'm in trouble.