No Sacrifice Read online

He pulled his hand off, determined to get through at least a couple of videos. He watched the rest of that one gripping the arms of his chair to keep his hands occupied. Some of the lines made him snicker, but at least their O-faces weren’t cartoon-proportions.

  At the start of the next video, he did laugh. They started out kissing, and Patrick thought his and Rhys’s kiss looked more realistic. He shook his head and hit “play” to continue. He made it to about the halfway point, where they had each other’s cocks in their mouths, before he was stroking himself slowly again. There were no two ways about it, that part was hot.

  But then he stopped when they did, and one of them turned around and bent over in front of the other. Patrick figured it was time for the anal and waited, but instead the guy at the back leaned in and licked the other guy’s ass. Patrick blinked at it a minute. He’d read about rimming on the other website, but he couldn’t understand how it would feel good to either man. He tilted his head a bit as he watched, taking in the expression for the one receiving it. He was an actor, Patrick knew that, but he certainly looked like he was enjoying it. And Patrick couldn’t miss that he was still hard, so it obviously wasn’t unpleasant. And he was moaning, though not in the ridiculous, obviously forced way.

  When he let out a particularly loud moan and started stroking himself, Patrick’s hand went back to his cock as if on its own. He managed to keep it slow, determined to at least be able to pay attention to them at the end of the video, but it was a close thing. He watched the top pull out, jerk his cock a few strokes, then splatter the bottom with cum. His own length twitched in response.

  Patrick decided then and there that he really liked the sight of a hard cock.

  He glanced down at his and noticed just how hard and red it was. He couldn’t believe how aroused he was from watching gay porn, but he had admitted his sexuality. This was just another part of it. He wrapped his hand around his cock and started moving it again as he picked another video.

  He clicked through some of this one, curious to see if they all ended the way the other two did. Sure enough, the top pulled out, stroked himself a few times, then shot all over the other guy’s face. Patrick did the same with a couple more videos. One covered the bottom’s ass, another was on the chest, but it was all very obvious and—this made Patrick chuckle—repeated at least once to show the cumshot up close. He certainly understood the concept of the money shot, but the few times he’d pulled out of Emily had been much less enjoyable to him than finishing inside.

  By the time the last video was getting close to its climax, Patrick gave up on the “research” part. He minimized the window, though one video was still running, grunts and moans filling his ears. He’d like the actor’s voice and discovered this one made a lot of noise. Then he pulled up the pictures he had taken of Chance alone, dripping wet with hard nipples and the very clingy swimsuit. Eyes glued to the obvious outline of Chance’s cock, Patrick let himself start stroking again, adding his other hand to the mix, teasing balls and taint.

  Long before the grunts from the video ended, Patrick was biting his lip to hold in Chance’s name as his cum shot out of him and onto his chest where he’d aimed it. The fantasy in his head was of Chance buried inside of him while he rode Chance to climax. The imagined look of bliss on his lover’s face had been what sent him over the edge and into a very hard orgasm.

  As he came down from the high, it really hit him just how focused on Chance he’d been. Was he already in love?

  No. He didn’t think he’d gone that far. But he was certainly getting close.

  What, then, was he doing fucking Rhys?

  The question brought Patrick up short. Research and fantasies forgotten, Patrick stared into space as he considered it. They did need to rehearse; that wasn’t entirely exaggeration. But did they need to do everything? What, indeed, was he going to do with Rhys?

  Chapter 12

  By the time Patrick was pacing his apartment, waiting for Rhys’s arrival, he still hadn’t come to a decision. And pace, he did. The living room, small dining area, and kitchen had a path that formed a contiguous circle. Patrick started out pacing only the living room but soon added the dining room and then later the kitchen, until he was walking the entire circuit.

  Rereading the script for their partial scene that day hadn’t helped and, in fact, only made things worse. Jack’s notes on the scene had been very extensive, and though Patrick had snorted over many of them—it seemed Jack didn’t think either of them had ever actually had sex before—they’d given him just a small hint of what was going to be expected of them for the big scene. The smaller version only called for his naked hip to be visible, along with his torso and leg, but he didn’t mind that so much. Rhys, in that scene, would have to get out of the bed they would be sharing and walk around naked, though Patrick was sure they’d only ever see Rhys’s ass.

  But if that was the smaller scene, Patrick was definitely not looking forward to the big one. He actually rather hoped this time Jack would insist on microdirecting everything so it would take any possible intimacy out of the situation for them. Somehow Patrick didn’t think he’d get his wish. It would be just his luck that Jack decided to let them go for once.

  He had also not been helped when he’d gone shopping earlier in the day for condoms and lube. He’d added them to the rest of his groceries, including the chicken nuggets and pizza rolls Avery was currently stuck on, the beer he’d wanted, and the other items they’d needed, all in hopes that the clerk who rang them through wouldn’t pay too much attention to what he was buying. Unfortunately for him, however, she must have had a radar for stuff like that. She barely looked at all the other packages, swiping the fruit snacks and cookies without taking her eyes off the keypad. But when she got to the condoms and lube, she’d paused, looked up at him, and smirked. Patrick had scowled at her, annoyed to no end because he was already slightly embarrassed by buying them in the first place, but more so that it wasn’t any of her business what his sex life was like. The scowl didn’t seem to faze her. She simply snickered and dropped the items into a bag, then continued with rest of his things.

  He’d reread the notes again when they got home—the condoms and lube had found a home in the end table next to the couch—but it was only making things worse. So he put the script aside and, once Avery had gone down for a nap, had pulled his laptop out to do more research. He’d kept it to research and had skipped through most of the videos he’d looked at, pausing them to consider facial expressions and the like. He’d read more on things like frotting and oral, but none of what he read helped his nerves settle any better.

  He suspected it was just because time had flown and he was facing the decision. So he paced his apartment, trying to think through what he should do. He was so lost in thought about it that the buzzer for the building’s front door scared him half to death. He gave himself a moment for his heart to calm so his voice would be normal, then hit the button for the speaker. “Hello?”

  “Patrick? It’s Rhys.”

  “Oh, hey. Come on up.” Patrick congratulated himself on the steady voice while he hit the button to unlock the front door. Then he opened his apartment door and turned to step into the kitchen to wait.

  Rhys must have nearly run. Before Patrick could even step into the kitchen, Rhys was pushing the door farther open. “Hi,” he said, and his voice was breathless. He had almost run.

  “Hi.” Patrick glanced down to see papers rolled up in Rhys’s hand, but when Rhys didn’t offer them up, he kept his question to himself. Instead, he considered his friend, trying to look at the man with a new perspective—one that involved possibly sleeping together. Rhys’s hair was a little longer and curlier, and he had a solid five o’clock shadow. Patrick’s cock twitched with interest when he wondered how that would feel. Apparently his body didn’t seem to mind the idea of sleeping with Rhys. Annoyed with himself, he stepped backward into the kitchen. “Uh, come in. Want a beer?”

  Rhys closed the door behind him
self and nodded. “Sure.” Patrick saw him glance around, then turned to the fridge to retrieve and open the beer bottles. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” Patrick handed a bottle over. “I’m happy with it. I had a studio, but with Avery….”

  Rhys took it, setting the papers on the bar between the kitchen and living room. “Yeah, how is he?” Rhys took a swig from the bottle.

  Patrick smiled. “Fine. Growing. They do, too fast.” He waved a hand toward the mantle and the latest pictures he’d put up there.

  Rhys crossed over to look at them. “He looks a lot like Em.” He picked one up and looked at it, then glanced at Patrick, who’d followed. “But you’re there. He’s got your nose and chin.”

  “Yeah, poor kid.” Patrick chuckled.

  Rhys snorted. “Poor, indeed.” He laughed when Patrick took a good-natured swipe at him.

  Patrick felt his nerves calming down. This was much more like what they used to be. He didn’t know if it would last when their clothes came off, but he was grateful for it for the moment. “So, did you hear from Jack, then, about the other scene?”

  “Oh! Yes.” Rhys crossed back over to the bar and picked up part of the paper stack, then handed it to him.

  Patrick glanced down to see typed notes covered in cross outs and handwritten corrections. He started reading, turning to his kitchen table and sitting down. He waved vaguely toward another chair as he read. “He’s got to be fucking kidding,” Patrick muttered as he turned a page.

  “I was wondering that myself,” Rhys said with a snicker as he sat and scooted his chair closer, reading over Patrick’s shoulder. “It’s like he thinks we’ve never had sex.”

  Patrick gave a somewhat mirthless laugh. “Yeah. I’ve kinda proved that wrong, haven’t I?” He threw a thumb in the direction of Avery’s picture and shook his head, then continued reading. It looked like Jack was planning to microdirect the scene as Patrick had hoped. He turned another page, noting positioning, the order of kisses, how they were to touch each other, and even the placement of their hands. He shook his head again. If they didn’t practice or something, Patrick was sure they’d be spending hours filming… “Five minutes? That’s what they’re going for? All of this for a five-minute scene?”

  “I know, it’s crazy. But Jack said he plans to film quite a bit more and worry about the rest in editing. At least we don’t have to try to talk during it.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows and turned back to the notes. Sure enough, he saw where Jack listed an audio overlay. “Well, that’s something,” he muttered. “But holy fuck, this is ridiculous.” He looked up at Rhys, frowning. “We’re either going to have to rehearse a lot or—”

  “Or get him to give us more freedom. Yeah, I thought about that when I read them. If he insists on that—” Rhys nodded his head toward the paper. “—we could be there all day and night.”

  “Ugh,” Patrick groaned. He fell silent for a long moment as he looked down at the paper, not really seeing it, while he thought through what it’d be like to get stuck with Rhys, naked, pretending to have sex for that long. Exhausting, he decided.

  “So… I have to ask. What happened between you and Em?”

  Patrick’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Patrick. I’m not stupid. You don’t move your kid in here from Canada without a reason. And I don’t buy for one minute that it’s her schedule. She’s been doing fine until now. You’re split, aren’t you?”

  Patrick hadn’t been planning to tell Rhys what happened, but he also didn’t want to lie. Omission was one thing, in his mind, but outright lying was something else altogether. He sighed. “Yes. We’re split. We made the decision when I visited at the end of filming.”

  “So what happened?”

  “We… fell out of love, I guess.” Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. Maybe we never really were. We get along okay. We weren’t… angry. So maybe we weren’t ever really in love. I don’t know. But… we realized that we’re just good friends.”

  “Huh.” Rhys tilted his head as he considered Patrick for a moment, but he didn’t say anything more to that. “So….” He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “So, are you… uh… gay now? Did you discover that? Maybe that’s what caused it?”

  Patrick fought the urge to scowl. He could hear under Rhys’s too-casual words that there was more to the questions. He took a deep breath and let it out to be able to keep his voice calm. “No, I’m not gay.”

  Rhys looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not? But….”

  Patrick shook his head. “No. I’m bi. Bisexual,” he added at Rhys’s confused look.

  “Bisexual? Like….”

  “Like, I like both men and women,” Patrick explained.

  “Both? Are you sure you’re just not… like, curious or something?”

  Another head shake. “No. I like men as much as women. I probably always have, just suppressed it.” He took a sip of his beer before continuing. “There were a couple guys in high school and one in college I remember being attracted to. But back then, I didn’t recognize it for what it was.”

  “Then maybe you’ve just been in the closet,” Rhys said.

  Patrick blinked at him. “No, I’m quite sure I’m still attracted to women.”

  “Really?” Rhys asked, one eyebrow raised. “But if—”

  “Tits and dick, okay? I like both.” Patrick frowned, deciding to put it out there. “I watch gay porn and like it. Em’s tits still turned me on when I was up there. So… yeah. Bi.”

  “Huh.” Rhys peeled off more of his label as the silence filled the room.

  The awkwardness of the moment wiped out the earlier friendliness, and Patrick sighed. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  Rhys looked up, then shook his head. “No. No, I don’t. Just makes it easier, I think, if we’re going to do this. I mean… it’s harder to pretend to be something you’re really not.”

  Patrick blinked at him for a moment. Did that mean Rhys was bi? Or gay? “Yeah, that much is true. So—” Patrick started to speak, but Rhys pushed his bottle across the table, leaned over, and cupped Patrick’s cheek in one hand. Before Patrick could finish his sentence or even react, Rhys’s lips were on his.

  Patrick had to admit, it felt good. Kissing someone again, even someone he wasn’t in love with, was nice. It had been nice with Emily, even though they were just friends. And while he may not have been too happy with Rhys in general—thanks to the confusion on both their parts—he didn’t exactly hate the man, so kissing him wasn’t too much of a trial.

  As Rhys’s tongue touched Patrick’s bottom lip, Chance’s face flashed behind his eyes, and he pulled back. But before he could talk himself out of this… thing… with Rhys, he reminded himself that this was practice—rehearsal that was, in fact, necessary—and closed the distance again.

  Patrick’s kiss seemed to open something in Rhys, and his other hand came up to cradle Patrick’s head. His lips opened, and Patrick responded, accepting Rhys’s tongue. They touched, then slid, and Patrick knew at once that this kiss was unlike anything they’d done together before. There was definitely something behind it that had nothing to do with their scenes and on-screen relationship, but he simply didn’t have the mental fortitude to try to work it out just then. Instead, he let go and melted into the kiss, giving back everything he could physically.

  When they broke apart a moment later, Patrick fought for breath and looked up to see Rhys’s dark eyes dancing over Patrick’s face. “I’ve wanted to do that since our last scene together,” Rhys whispered.

  Patrick blinked at him but could think of nothing to say to that. Rhys had been thinking about him? “You… uh… I… err…. You did?” he finally managed to ask.

  Rhys nodded. “Yes. Patrick, I—” But apparently Rhys changed his mind and held back whatever he was going to say. Instead, a few seconds later, he’d reached up, curled his hand around the back of Patrick’s head, and then t
hey were kissing again. This one was deeper, even more thorough than the last, and filled with something Patrick didn’t understand. But he could barely remember how to breathe, so sorting out an emotional tangle was beyond him.

  He didn’t remember lifting his hands, but his fingers were threading through Rhys’s curls as he returned the kiss. He found himself enjoying it, more than he would have thought with Rhys. His cock certainly seemed to agree as it began to fill and make his position quite uncomfortable.

  “Fuck, you taste good,” Rhys murmured when they pulled apart a scant inch for air.

  Patrick blinked up at him, again at a loss for words. He cobbled a few wits together and figured out it was a safe thing to reply to. “You do too,” he whispered.

  Rhys smiled that grin Patrick could now admit was most definitely gorgeous. He could certainly see why the fangirls of their show were so enamored with it. “That does me good to hear,” he said and slid a hand along Patrick’s arm to catch one of Patrick’s hands. Then he tugged on it, but Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Come here.” Rhys kept his voice low. “We’re supposed to practice, remember?”

  Patrick nodded and allowed Rhys to tug again on his hand until he was straddling Rhys’s lap. He rested his hands on Rhys’s chest, trying to gather enough sanity and think about what he was doing. But his cock was making things exceedingly difficult, and with all the blood south of his belt, he had a hard time forming anything resembling coherent thought.

  Rhys lifted a hand and ran his fingers through Patrick’s hair. “Is it longer?” he asked, tilting his head.

  “Yeah.” Patrick nodded again. “And it’s mine. Chrissy took the extensions out before I left for the summer.”

  “It’s… gorgeous.”

  Patrick blinked, but before he could answer that, Rhys was kissing him again, one hand running down his back, then cupping his ass and pulling him tight. He felt Rhys’s cock, already hard, against his own, and damn if it didn’t feel good. He bucked against it, then gave up trying to think for the time being and simply focused on what Rhys had suggested: practice.