Page 8

Tristan

I'm the first to admit that not only do I not get nervous or really interested about having sex, but I also don't get nervous ahead of dates.

Admittedly, the reason for that is because I haven't been interested in going on a date in...years, but that's neither here nor there.

But the fact of the matter is that I am nervous going into this date, and the reasons why...well, they only kind of make sense.

I've already met Xander, so it's not like this is a blind date.

I've already felt his cock and rubbed up all over him, too, so this isn't a fear that we aren't physically compatible.

I know we are.

I couldn't deny that there were fucking butterflies in my stomach that night when I pulled up to Gunner's though, and after killing the ignition, I took several moments to just...breathe and calm down.

I wanted this guy, but he was also my costar.

I hadn't been lying when I'd told him that my first costar - an adorable guy named Drake, who'd become a good friend of mine before he'd moved to Seattle for a corporate gig and left the studio - had sat me down and walked me through the process of our first shoot beforehand, and that it had really helped me.

I was a man who thrived on a plan and stability, which was one of the reasons that I hated changing costars so fucking much.

But with Xander...things just clicked.

It was the most natural chemistry that I had felt in all my years of working in the adult industry, and I didn't want to scare him away.

I wanted to fuck him, but more than that...

Fuck.

"Nope," I said aloud, my fingers tightening on my steering wheel.

"You are not finishing that thought.

You are not going to go in there like a crazy baby duckling that's imprinted on him.

You're going to walk in there, sit down, order a drink, and pretend like you're not thinking about bending him over and fucking him in front of the bar."

The pep talk didn't do anything other than make my cock twitch with interest at the visual, and I finally blew out a breath and got out of my car, heading into the bar and making an immediate beeline for the counter after scanning the room to confirm that Xander hadn't arrived yet.

"Hey, Tris." Mark smiled at me when I slid into a seat, and he arched an eyebrow when all I did was bury my face in my hands.

"Rough day?"

Mark, like most of the gay community in Graystone, knew what I did for a living, as well as the other Studio Black regulars that came with me when we went out on Sundays.

He'd never judged us for it or treated us any different, and it made it easy for me to lift my head and gratefully accept the beer that he slid across the counter at me with a small twitch of my lips.

"I might have fucked up.

I like my new costar," I admitted, taking a slow sip of the bubbling drink.

Mark chuckled.

"Okay, is that sort of porn star kiss of death? You like him?"

I shook my head, though I allow myself a small, rough chuckle as well.

"No, not really.

But it's not something that I do.

I just...this is just my job, you know?"

Mark nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"If he's gay...have I met him?"

"Not talking about me to the local barkeep already, are you, Tris?"

Xander's voice was like a warm balm on the back of my neck, and suddenly all of the worries that I'd had seemed to fade away.

I chuckled softly, turning around to face him, and I shook my head as I looked at him.

"Only a little."

Xander had changed out of the slacks and button down that he'd worn to the meeting that morning into something more comfortable, and I couldn't decide if I liked him perfectly pressed and buttoned up more than his comfortable graphic tee and jeans, but both were so fucking delicious that it took everything inside of me not to reach out for him right then and there.

"You joined Studio Black, Xan?" Mark's surprise was obvious as Xander took a seat next to me, and Xander nodded as he fiddled with a clean napkin that had been left on top of the bar.

His eyes were cast down, and before I think better of it, I reached over and laid my hand on top of his thigh, squeezing.

His eyes darted over to mine, widening a little, and the flutter in my chest becomes full-blown butterflies all over again at the way that he's looking at me.

With heat and nervousness and desire and...

God, I want to take him home.

I want to take him home right the fuck now.

"Well, good for you." Mark hummed, and then slid another beer over the counter to Xan, seemingly oblivious to the tension vibrating between the two of us.

"Tris and the others are good people.

They'll take care of you."

He turned and walked away after that, leaving me and Xander alone, and I lifted my cup to take a sip of beer, my gaze never leaving Xan's as he continued to look up at me.

His tongue darted out and slid along his lower lip, wetting the flesh there, and I can't stop myself from digging my fingers into his thigh, tightening my grip almost possessively.

"Is that true, Tris?" Xander whispered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Will you take care of me?"

My lips parted, and the breath that rushes out of me is rough.

The only thing that I can see is Xander's pretty blue eyes as he looks at me, those swollen lips of his that were fucking made to be sucking my cock, the flutter of his pulse in his throat as he swallows again, his entire body tense and pliable at the same time.

I reached out with one hand, waiting for him to flinch away, satisfaction flooding me when he doesn't.

My hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and then I pulled him close so that my lips were pressed against his ear, and he was the only one who would be able to hear me.

"Of course I'll take care of you, baby boy." My lips brushed over the shell of his ear with my words, and I felt him shudder under my hand, making that spark of satisfaction burn even brighter in my chest.

"You'll just have to listen, and be a good boy for me.

Can you do that?"

Xander's breath shuddered out of him in a sound that was very nearly a moan, and if I hadn't been hard before, I was well on my way to there now.

All my good intentions seemed to fly out the window, and all I wanted was to get this beautiful man underneath me now, now, now.

But that wasn't what tonight was about.

And as much as I wanted to rush things along so that the two of us could fall right into bed together...I also didn't want him to be blind sighted on his first day of filming either.

So I satisfied myself with nipping the shell of his ear and soothing the sting with my tongue before I pulled away, and was gratified with the light flush in his cheeks, the slight daze in his eyes.

He was so goddamned sweet.

And he was going to be all mine.

I smiled at him, and his eyes met mine after a moment, his breathing still shallow.

I reached out and booped him gently on the tip of his nose, and then nodded at his beer as I grabbed my own drink and stood up.

"Come on." I jabbed my thumb towards the corner of the bar, where the pool table lay empty - and secluded - and smiled.

"Let's go rack them up, and I'll give you the run down, and then answer any questions that you might have. Okay?"

Xander

I'm not sure if the erection that I'm struggling against is any excuse for the way that I practically threw myself at Tristan, but thankfully, he didn't seem upset about it.

The opposite, if the heat in his eyes was any indication.

I followed him over to the pool table and then stood there with my beer while he racked up.

I glanced around while he did some, my stomach settling some when I saw how empty the bar was.

Of course, it was relatively early in the night so people could still show up, but in my experience Gunner's usually had the most business later in the week, not on a Monday night.

It made me feel a little better about Tristan and I discussing work while we were here.

I wasn't ashamed of my new job, but people could be judgmental, even in queer spaces.

Tristan would protect you against any assholes, and you know it.

I shoved the whisper of reason to the back of my head as Tristan turned around to face me, and his easy grin relaxed me. "Break?"

I nodded, and approached the table to break the triangle of balls.

I set my glass down and bent over to eye the cue, and I could feel Tristan's eyes, hard and heavy, on my ass as I executed a clean break, and then balls went every all over the table.

Ha.

"Nice," Tristan said warmly as I straightened up.

None of the balls rolled into pockets, so he positioned himself next to the cue, aiming for a stripe.

"So ask your questions, baby boy.

I know you have them."

He was teasing, and my cheeks burned hot as I nodded, leaning more heavily on the table as he managed to sink a ball.

"Well...just walk me through the process I guess.

The internet isn't a very friendly place when talking about sex work, so I've been kind of avoiding it."

Tristan nodded, looking at me seriously.

"That's good.

Seriously, keep yourself away from that cesspool.

For you." He straightened up and picked up his glass, taking a drink of his beer before he looked back at me, and stepped a little closer so that he could speak more quietly, and I would still be able to hear him.

"Okay, process. You'll come in about half an hour before the shoot is scheduled for hair and makeup. At that time, you'll be handed whatever little script they've written for us so that you can review it, but this isn't a Spielberg piece, so don't worry overmuch about trying to be too cinematic with your acting." He winked at me, and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling a little.

"Got it."

He leaned over to take his shot - and I admired the swell of his ass and the lines of his back as he did so - and then he looked at me as he sank another stripe.

"They usually give us about fifteen to twenty minutes to look over the script and get in the headspace, and do anything else you need to...prepare for the scene before we head onto set."

His voice deepened on the word prepare, and my cheeks flushed hot.

"Prepare?" I managed, my voice sounding slightly strangled even to my ears.

His eyes flinted, and a slow smirk tugged at his lips as he straightened up.

"You know what I'm talking about, Xander."

If I hadn't already been hard, that would have done it.

My cock twitched, straining against the zip of my jeans, and I picked up my beer to take several gulps to try and assuage the dryness in my throat.

His eyes dropped down, and the interest that lit in them when they landed on my cock was enough to make me want to throw our plans for the rest of the night out altogether.

Somehow, I didn't even think that I would have to get Tristan drunk to ask him to take me home.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the way that my hole was clenching at the thought of Tristan helping me prepare for a scene, and I tried to get back on track.

"Okay.

Sure.

Lots of time for prep. Got it."

Tristan let out a low chuckle.

"Exactly," he agreed.

He finished off his beer, and then lifted one hand to get Mark's attention behind the bar, smiling.

The sound of the beer tap running told me that Mark had noticed him, and Tristan turned his attention back to me.

"Once we get on set, then it's a lot of hurry up and wait. We have to wait for them to adjust their lights, that can take anywhere from five minutes to half an hour, and then Dorian will usually run through the scene with us so that we both understand what they're expecting of us."

I nodded. "Sure."

Mark brought over another beer for Tristan and smiled at the two of us before taking the empty glass and walking away.

Even the brief interruption wasn't enough to break the sexual tension that was thick enough to cut between us, and Tristan took another step closer, though it was only to bend over the table and take his new shot.

"After that, we start filming, and I'm going to tell you right now, it's not as much fun as you think it's going to be." He missed his shot, and straightened up, winking at me.

"Your shot, baby boy."

I swallowed and turned my attention to the game, casting my gaze around the scatter of solids and stripes, trying to plan my shot.

My focus was immediately shot when Tristan stepped behind me, pressing close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through my clothes.

His hands landed on the table on either side of my hips, and his breath ghosted over the back of my neck in a tease that made me shiver.

Which he could feel, and I knew it.

"They're going to have us do takes over and over again to make sure that they get the reaction and the angles that they want." Tristan's voice was low and sexy, and even though we were talking shop, it still felt like he was whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

"That sounds tiring," I managed, not even pretending to focus on the game anymore.

Tristan hummed.

"It can be.

Sometimes it means they'll want us to make out for twenty minutes and you'll just have to deal with my tongue down your throat until they've decided they've had enough.

Sometimes it means that I'll be fingering your prostate until you cry because they want to make sure that they catch the way that my fingers tug on your rim at just the perfect angle."

Tristan's voice was rasping, and when he pressed closer, I could feel the hard length of his erection against my ass, making his feelings about our topic of conversation all too fucking clear.

"And sometimes..." His hands flexed on top of the table, and the hopeful part of my mind hoped that he would touch me.

"It means that I'll be fucking you, and they'll have us stop and start the take multiple times.

I'll have to keep you on edge until your needy cock is begging for release, and I won't be able to give it to you because that would ruin the money shot.

And we'll both just have to suffer through it."

My hole spasmed at the thought, and somehow, that didn't sound like something that I would have to suffer through.

I swallowed hard, and then slowly turned around until my back was to the pool table, and I was facing Tristan again, practically nose to nose.

"How long do shoots usually last?" I whispered, the urge to close the distance between us so that I could kiss him strong.

"Hours," Tristan responded, his voice equally soft.

"Nature of the beast.

Think you can stand my hands on you for that long, baby boy?"

The sadistic glint in his eyes, along with the way that his erection just barely brushed against mine as we looked at each other...I could barely breathe.

I wanted his hands on me right the fuck now.

I nodded, dragging my teeth along my lower lip.

"Can't wait," I finally whispered.

His eyes flashed, and his throat bobbed with a swallow.

I watched the war of control on his handsome features, and I knew that we shouldn't...but I wanted to.

We were coworkers - in a very sensitive industry - and it might be awkward if things went south before we even had our first day.

But God...I wanted.

I could see that same conflict on Tristan's face, and when he finally stepped away from me after a tension-riddled moment, relief and disappointment mingled inside of me in no small measure.

"Me either," Tristan said, his voice rough.

Then he winked at me, and jerked his chin towards the table.

"Now take your shot.

Loser buys the next round."