No Sacrifice Read online

  Rhys slid one arm up along Patrick’s back, then pushed his hand into Patrick’s hair. He gripped it a little, tugging, and Patrick let his head fall back. He continued to move, aided by Rhys lifting him. His own hands slid down onto Rhys’s upper arms. Then Rhys leaned in and bit at his neck, and despite himself, it went straight to his cock and made him moan.

  Annoyingly, Jack didn’t speak, so Patrick just did his best to make it look like he was fucking Rhys, moving a little faster, rocking his hips, exaggerating his movements, hoping it was enough to get this part in one take.

  But no, he couldn’t be that lucky. “Cut!”

  Patrick didn’t growl. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He looked up and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  Jack stood back, shaking his head, then tilting it. “Something’s not quite right.” He tapped his copy of the sides against his chin. “That’s it. I’ve got it. Rhys, put one hand between you like you’re stroking his cock.”

  Patrick noted Jack seemed a lot more at ease directing the sex this time. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed by that. “Jack, really, that’s not necessary,” Patrick said, frowning.

  “Shh, just let me,” Rhys whispered, slipping a hand between them.

  Patrick gritted his teeth when the hand bumped his now-hard cock. “Fuck,” he bit off, trying to ignore it.

  “Just let me pleasure you, baby,” Rhys said in his ear, and Patrick closed his eyes.

  “Rhys…,” he said in a warning tone, trying to simply forget the term of endearment. What sounded so good from Chance was uncomfortable from Rhys. “I have a boyfriend.”

  “It’ll make Jack happy. And just think of it as Cyrus and Nadir,” Rhys insisted, and before Patrick realized what happened, Rhys’s hand was wrapped around Patrick’s cock.

  Patrick sighed, trying desperately to ignore how good it felt. Jack backed up, and Patrick closed his eyes, working to just think like Nadir. The sooner he did, the sooner it would be over. The calls were made, and then Patrick was moving again, his head thrown back, Rhys’s hand woven through the locks. The other was moving over Patrick’s cock, though thankfully, he kept a very loose grip so he wasn’t actually stroking Patrick’s cock.

  It still made him nuts. Every time some part of Rhys’s hand bumped him, he felt the pleasure. He couldn’t stop the small grunts when it did, and Patrick felt Rhys’s annoying smiles against his skin with each one. Rhys pulled back then and caught Patrick’s lips in another kiss. This one, like the one before, was quite thorough, and with the friction, made the pleasure spike.

  When they broke apart, Patrick let his head fall back and worked to make it look like he was about to orgasm. Rhys moaned, and Patrick bit at his own lip like he was about to come, but a moment later, he heard a “Cut!”

  They stopped moving, and Patrick dropped his forehead onto Rhys’s shoulder. “Fuck, now what?”

  “That wasn’t quite… uh, well, not quite right, Patrick.”

  “That’s helpful,” Patrick grumbled, looking up. “Which part?”

  “Toward the end, there. I’m guessing you were going for the orgasm, but it wasn’t quite real enough.”

  Patrick sighed and met Rhys’s look. For a brief moment, the old camaraderie was back—both annoyed with Jack. “Well, Jack, I’m sorry. I’ve never had to fake an orgasm before.” Rhys buried his face in Patrick’s neck, and Patrick felt the laughter go through Rhys.

  Jack had the grace to blush. He stuttered a moment, and Patrick shook his head.

  “Just… try again, okay?” Jack nodded and returned to his spot next to the camera.

  Rhys apparently got control of himself and sat back up.

  Patrick sighed and muttered, “I am not giving him another real orgasm.” He scowled.

  Rhys’s eyebrows went up. “You mean, the one with—”

  “Angelo? Yeah, that was real. No matter what Angelo did, it didn’t look realistic enough. So he actually had to stroke my cock.” He shook his head.

  “Wow,” Rhys said, blinking at him.

  “You can say that again. I did not sign up for real porn—I don’t care how much is covered.” Patrick clenched his jaw for a moment, eyes closed as he fought to get a hold of himself. “Sorry,” he mumbled at Rhys. “And we have another full sex scene yet this season.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t realize.” Rhys wrapped both arms around him and hugged him.

  “Yeah, well—” He cut himself off when he heard the cameraman’s call.

  “Look,” Rhys said, getting into the right position. “I know it sucks, but maybe if you just let me, you know, give you some pleasure, it’ll look real enough.”

  Patrick frowned. He still didn’t like the idea of doing anything intimate with Rhys, sure it’d go horribly wrong, but he was already tired of pretending to fuck Rhys. “Fine, but not, uh, no….”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Rhys agreed, nodding.

  “Are you ready?” Jack called, sounding annoyed.

  Patrick shot him a glare, then forced his face to clear and nodded. Rhys’s hand closed around Patrick’s cock, they heard the call, and Patrick started moving.

  And knew immediately that allowing Rhys to pleasure him was a bad idea. His eyes slammed closed, he bit his lip, and he was glad the groan was muffled. “Oh fuck,” he whispered.

  “Mmm,” Rhys replied, moving a little faster. Patrick grunted, his hand tightened on Rhys’s arm, and his head fell back on its own. He could already feel his balls pulling up. Rhys leaned in and bit at his neck, and Patrick rocked his hips a little more. Rhys’s thumb swiped over the head of Patrick’s cock, and Patrick let out a loud moan over it. He tried to think about the facial expressions he saw in those porn videos and did his best to imitate them, hoping to end it before anything more happened.

  But a moment later, he was in for a surprise. When Rhys’s arm gripped him tighter, there was a groan, and he felt a hot splash on his chest. Rhys had just come. Patrick fought it, he really did, but the surprise of Rhys’s orgasm, the… whatever it was Rhys did—the hand twist, the thumb swipe—was too much, and Patrick grunted through his own climax. Oh fuck, Chance, I’m so sorry….

  When he realized Jack hadn’t cut the scene, he pulled back and dove in for the kiss he and Rhys were supposed to share to end it. They broke apart, both staring at each other for a brief moment, and then Patrick fell backward onto the bed, panting hard in the aftermath, forcing the grin onto his face. Rhys followed him down, smiling as well, then kissing him again as the script notes called for. Then he rolled onto one side, and Patrick followed, settling in with their legs threaded as they were supposed to.

  “Good. Cut,” Jack said, moving in. He didn’t seem able to look directly at them, but he dropped a towel onto the bed. “Uh, take a few minutes as we reset the camera.”

  Patrick couldn’t look at Rhys as he wiped himself down. That was twice, now, that he’d come during a scene. He was completely disgusted with himself, and if he didn’t have more filming to do that day, he’d go back to his room and hide. From everyone, including Chance, who Patrick was feeling, in that moment, like he really didn’t deserve.

  He pushed the thought away, because he did have more filming, and determined that would be the last time it happened. Ever. He didn’t care what Jack wanted. If it meant he had to practice faking orgasms, so be it.

  He kept his eyes averted for another moment and swiped the towel over Rhys’s chest, catching the bit that’d splattered.

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” Rhys murmured, drawing Patrick’s gaze.

  He stared at Rhys for a long moment, trying to decide if Rhys meant it. “Are you?” he finally asked.

  Rhys nodded. “Look, no matter what is or isn’t between us, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I… I didn’t realize just how much that would. I’m sorry.”

  Patrick closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s not… not just you. I…. You know, I never used to worry or care about this stuff. All those kisses with you before, when I was
still married to Em?” he asked and felt Rhys’s nod. “Yeah, not even a blip of a problem with it. But now, well… now it does. And I’m sorry. I know that hurts you,” he said, looking up, and saw the pain in Rhys’s eyes before it was hidden. “I wish it didn’t….”

  “No, it’s okay.” He leaned in and kissed Patrick’s forehead. “I can’t help how I feel, Patrick.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I love you. No,” he hurried to say when Patrick started to argue. “No. I do. I know you think I don’t, but I do.” He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something more but apparently changed his mind and closed it again.

  Patrick didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to argue—again—that Rhys didn’t, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He tossed the towel aside and settled back into the position he was supposed to be in for the scene. “When did you figure it out?”

  Rhys shrugged again. “I don’t know,” Rhys said, not even pretending to misunderstand the question. “I think maybe when I started reacting to you. I didn’t get it at first. I still don’t, not really. But….”

  “So… you knew back before we, uh, practiced?”

  Rhys nodded. “Yeah, well, I suspect that I haven’t been entirely honest with myself.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Not that I recognized it. And, uh, for the record? I’m pretty sure I’m not nearly as bi as you are.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

  Rhys blushed and refused to meet Patrick’s eyes. “It’s not just, uh, you. Sebastian got me going. I’ve, uh, barely even looked at a woman twice since this whole thing started.”

  “Maybe you’re just still figuring it out.”

  Rhys shook his head. “I tried to jack off to straight porn, but she just turned me off.”

  “Wow. Well, uh, I… don’t know what to say.”

  “I think it’s why I didn’t really believe you when you talked about being bi. You know my favorite position was doggy-style?”

  “I’m not sure I need—or want—to know this, Rhys,” Patrick said, glancing over, but George and Jack were arguing over something and apparently not ready.

  “It’s pertinent,” he said and chuckled again. “See, I was never a boob guy. Never turned me on. And I refused to recognize why—not that I didn’t know. I think I’ve suspected for a long time. But I didn’t want to admit it. So, you know, doggy-style, right? Just a back.”

  “So… you’re gay?” Patrick asked.

  Rhys nodded. “Yeah, pretty sure I go all the way the other side.”

  Patrick considered Rhys for a long moment. “Then maybe it’s just that you’re figuring this stuff out.” He pointed at himself. “Not really—”

  “Don’t. Please,” Rhys said, a little desperately.

  Patrick closed his mouth, not sure how to handle this. He’d never had anyone think they were in love with him, not like this. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.

  “Okay,” Jack said, coming over. “Are you two ready?”

  Patrick looked at Rhys, who met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah, we are,” Patrick answered for them. Jack retreated to the other side of the set, and Patrick turned back to Rhys, leaning in for the kiss they were supposed to start with. “You okay?” he asked, and Rhys nodded.

  When Jack made the call and their lips met, Rhys obviously didn’t hold back. Patrick tried, a little desperately himself, to fight it. But staying in Nadir’s head and fighting the kiss at the same time was pretty much impossible. So Patrick gave in, let go, and just took what he could of it. He did feel bad for Rhys, but it didn’t change the fact that he was already in love with someone else. Still, not knowing what else to do, he let Rhys kiss him and did what he could to return it, hoping he wasn’t giving Rhys too much encouragement.

  They broke apart, and it took Patrick a few seconds to remember his lines, as affected as he was by the kiss. Finally, he pulled himself together, grateful the scene was still rolling. “Cyrus,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you trying to scramble my wits?”

  “I can’t help it if I’m good at it. And good in bed.” Rhys smiled.

  Patrick returned the smile. “Oh, you think you are so talented, do you?”

  “The evidence speaks for itself,” Rhys said, smiling wider and tucking Patrick’s hair behind an ear. “You can barely speak.”

  “Hmph,” Patrick said, reaching up and pulling on Rhys’s hair. “You are not all that great.”

  “I can prove it.” Rhys leaned in and caught Patrick’s lips in another kiss, this one just as deep, just as full as the last.

  When they broke apart and Patrick had to speak, he barely had to act the breathlessness. “Not fair that you can do that to me.”

  “See?” Rhys asked, smiling.

  Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I see,” he said, then leaned in, ran his fingers up into Rhys’s hair, and started kissing. He didn’t know what caused him to kiss the way he did, and later, when he’d think about it, he still wouldn’t know, but he poured everything he could into it. Rhys moaned, wrapped an arm around him, and pulled him in, though it was most definitely not scripted, and returned the kiss.

  When they broke apart, Rhys was panting as hard as Patrick was, and there was something behind the dark eyes he couldn’t decipher that worried him. But Jack didn’t cut, and Rhys kept it on the scene and spoke. “It seems that you are almost as capable of making me lose my wits as I am you.”

  Patrick smiled and sat up as Rhys stood, turning his back to the camera, and moved to a nearby table set with glasses and a bottle. “I’m glad to know that I can still do that for you,” Patrick said, smiling at Rhys.

  “I will simply have to work on holding on to my senses when you kiss me.” Rhys poured dark liquid that was supposed to be wine into two glasses, turned back around—thereby giving the viewers the glimpse of his dick that Jack wanted—then crossed back to the bed.

  Patrick sat up, giving his own obligatory flash, and took one of the glasses. It occurred to Patrick that they’d managed to do this in one take, so far.

  “Then I will have to work harder on my skills.”

  “You can practice on His Highness,” Rhys teased. “He is already enamored of your skills.”

  Patrick could feel Nadir’s disappointment at the mention of Bathasar and found it was very easy to frown down into his glass.

  “Cut!” Jack called.

  Patrick sighed. “What?”

  Jack shook his head. “The disappointment isn’t sharp enough. Let’s try that again.”

  “Sorry,” Patrick grumbled.

  “From ‘Then I will work harder on my skills,’” Jack said and backed up.

  Patrick worked his face into the tease it was supposed to be and gave his line. Rhys replied, and Patrick felt the slight stab again. He frowned, swallowed hard, and stared into his glass, trying to exaggerate the disappointment a little. Apparently he did well, because they kept going.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” Rhys said, reaching out and tilting Patrick’s face up. “I should not have said that.”

  “I… I don’t….” Patrick shook his head.

  “Shh.” Rhys leaned in and kissed Patrick gently on the forehead. “It’s okay. Do you still love me?”

  Patrick looked up into Rhys’s eyes and wished with all his might he didn’t see what he saw behind them. It made this line a hundred times harder than it needed to be. “You know I do, Cyrus.”

  “Then that is what matters.”

  “And cut! Excellent! Let’s take a break for lunch. There’s still plenty left to shoot today.”

  The first thing Patrick did, of course, was look for Chance. He didn’t have to go far. His boyfriend was waiting nearby and pulled him into a tight hug as soon as he got close. Patrick couldn’t look at Rhys as his friend passed. He buried his face in Chance’s neck, belatedly remembering his makeup. “Oops,” he murmured, standing up.

  “It’s okay, baby. I don’t care.” He looked down into Patrick’s eyes, and Patrick knew Chance had se
en what happened.

  “I… I… aw hell, Chance, I don’t know what to say. I… I really didn’t want to. I… fuck,” he bit off and dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t blame you if you hate me, don’t want me anymore. This shit isn’t supposed to happen on set. Guys aren’t even supposed to get turned on, much less come. And I did it, now. Twice.”

  “Hey, hey,” Chance said, tilting his face back up. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it. But I told you before, and I’m not going to go back on it. I love you. You love me. And in the end, that’s what matters. Did you go out of your way to basically fuck him?”

  “Hell no!” Patrick said, rather vehemently, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to. But… I’d like to blame Jack for it all, but I can’t, I really can’t. But, fuck all, it was easier just to, you know, and get it over with.”

  “There you go. I certainly understand how Jack is. Really, baby. It’s okay. Now, let’s get you dressed and get some lunch.”

  Patrick peered up at him. “How… how can you not hate me?”

  “Because I understand you,” Chance replied quietly. “I know that you don’t really want this. I see it, baby. I really do.” He tucked some of Patrick’s hair behind an ear. “I’ve spent a lot of time the last several months watching your face. I may not be able to read your mind, but I can certainly interpret your expressions. I could see that you weren’t happy. So, yeah. I can handle it.”

  Patrick swallowed, trying to accept what he was seeing and hearing. But the expression on Chance’s face only backed up the words. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I… can’t wait until we’re home tonight. Need you,” he murmured, moving back into Chance’s arms, which tightened, holding him close, and he felt a kiss in his hair.

  “Me too, baby. Me too. Come on. Let’s get you dressed.”

  “Yes, please,” Patrick said and turned toward his dressing room.

  “Definitely. I think enough people have ogled my boyfriend’s body for one day.”

  Patrick laughed. “Only a few million.”