Love Me Tenor

by Annabeth Albert

  “Mmhmm.” Trevor sighed, the same happy-asleep noise he’d been making all week that drove Jalen the good kind of nuts. He cuddled into Jalen, burrowing against him until they were both under the blankets, Trevor’s head on Jalen’s chest, Jalen’s arms around him.

  Not touching. Um. Yeah. That was going to work out well.

  Chapter Ten

  @NextDirectionShow Week two and we’re changing things up all over the place! Can’t wait for you to see what we’ve got in store!

  @CarterNCarson I love this week already

  “Here.” Jalen dumped a blob of something brown onto Trevor’s plate, then took the seat next to him at breakfast. It was weird—after last night, the whole couple act should have been easier, but instead, it was harder, and Trevor found himself torn between enjoying this new casual comfortableness with Jalen and looking around to see who else noticed.

  “What’s this?” Trevor pushed at the blob with his spoon. Breakfast was another bagel and coffee spread, but he’d skipped the coffee in favor of some decaf tea. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s incident.

  “Peanut butter. For your bagel. I know you hate cream cheese, but you need more protein.”

  “How’d you score this?” Trevor tried to ignore the warm squishy feeling he got from Jalen thinking about what he needed for breakfast.

  “I know how to ask.” Jalen gave him a wicked smile. “I told the craft service woman in the kitchen that I need more protein or my muscles are gonna rot and I’m not gonna look so good on camera.”

  “Impossible.” Trevor grinned back. “Thanks. How do you know so much about nutrition anyway?” He kept his voice low, but no one was paying them any attention. Carter and Carson were deep in conversation with Dawn—which should make Trevor nervous, but really he was grateful they weren’t laying into him again. The Keg Stand guys were stacking bagels and doing some game with coffee cups at the end of the table and the Heat Loss guys were clustered around the breakfast bar, probably looking for the Emo Flakes.

  “I want to be a personal trainer. I’ve been taking some classes.” Jalen spread a thick layer of cream cheese on his bagel. He’d asked about peanut butter only for Trevor. That warm feeling spread down Trevor’s arms and legs.

  “Personal trainer, huh? Not musician?” Trevor asked.

  “Nah. I mean, it’s cool if it works out that way, but music’s a hard way to earn your bread. I need a backup plan. And I’m good at coming up with fitness plans for other people. I helped my mom come up with an exercise routine after her diagnosis. Then when she lost some weight, a couple of her friends hired me, too. I want to get the certification so I can do it for real and always have a fallback.” Jalen spoke with his usual casual confidence—he wasn’t bragging, just reporting the truth. He undoubtedly was good at making people work out. Who wouldn’t want to exercise with Jalen looking at them with those big patient eyes, cheering them on? And who wouldn’t want a plan B?

  Trevor’s next bite of bagel turned bitter. He envied Jalen the certainty with which he spoke of his goal. Four years of college and Trevor had zero clue what came next for him. Everyone else had a backup plan, a career path—goals and dreams and desires. For so long, Trevor’s future had been decided for him—he’d get his degree in religious studies with a music minor, come back and work in his dad’s church as some sort of music director. But now that that had been ripped away, he had no clue what he did want.

  “Hey, guys!” Dawn came over, trailed by Carson and Carter. “We were discussing your schedule for the week. We’re changing things up a bit with the music selections.”

  “Oh?” Trevor eyed Carter’s smug expression. He wasn’t going to like this, that much was a given.

  “Well, the production crew was looking at our initial social media returns—”

  “And we’re dead last,” Carter interrupted. “Not just a little behind, but we’re the Titanic—”

  “With no life boats,” Carson added. “It’s bad.”

  “Guess we’re lucky there aren’t any eliminations,” Jalen said far more mildly than Trevor could have.

  “We really need you guys to step up your game. No one’s going home, but the show wants a close race. And a lot of buzz—so far we aren’t getting the buzz we were hoping for from any of the groups, but at least Heat Loss’s video went a little viral and K-Stand’s Instagram account is incredibly popular.”

  “Shirtless frat guys will do that,” Jalen deadpanned, and Trevor couldn’t help snorting.

  “We can do more risqué photos,” Carson said quickly. “You’ll see. We’ll get lots of shares this week.”

  “Keep the photos PG.” Dawn’s eyes went wide. “Hot is awesome, but not . . .” She waved her hand around.

  “No NSFW. Got it,” Carter chirped, like the not-safe-for-work tag was the only restriction keeping him and Carson from throwing up some amateur porn in the hopes of getting more followers.

  “Really, the biggest issue is that we need a narrative for you guys. Cute guys in love is great, but the group as a whole needs more personality. And bonding. So that’s what we’re going to focus on with you this week. Bonding. Harmony. And unison. And letting your audience get to know the real you.”

  The real Trevor was more than a little horrified. Sharing secrets with Jalen in the middle of the night was one thing. Letting people know what a mess his life really was? No way. Bland and boring was much more preferable. And Dawn’s hunger for narrative only reinforced why he couldn’t let the show find out about his diabetes.

  “And that’s why I’m taking lead on today’s video!” Carter crowed, like he couldn’t hold it in a second longer.

  “Congrats.” Trevor blinked hard. He was relieved. Really.

  “It’s just for this video.” Dawn spoke soothingly, like Trevor needed coddling. “And then the second music video of the week, we’ve got a lead for Jalen to try. We want the audience to get to know all of you.”

  Because Trevor was a fail. That was the subtext. The relief he should be feeling was hidden behind a waterfall of shame that he wasn’t measuring up. Again.

  “You got what for Jalen?” Jalen set his food down and leaned around Trevor to stare at Dawn. He didn’t sound mad but rather incredulous.

  “You’ll sing lead. We’ve got a great Frank Ocean song picked. It’ll be great. You’ll see.” She handed them each a printout with a schedule for the week and song titles.

  “Anything would be an improvement.” Carter gave Trevor a hefty dose of stink eye.

  “Okay, we’ll see you guys on the vans.” Dawn got up from her chair. “And remember, if you’re going to argue, keep it clean for the cameras!”

  Clearly, she’d given up on “play nice” and the new mantra was going to be “make good TV.”

  But the lone camerawoman was currently busy filming Keg Stand’s breakfast antics, which meant Carter gave a heavy why-do-I-have-to-deal-with-you sigh and pushed away from the table, too. “I’m going to go practice. I suggest you do the same.”

  “I think this will be a fun week.” Carson followed Carter, giving Trevor and Jalen the sort of helpless look Trevor’s aunt always gave after her husband went on one of his tirades about “entitled” people.

  “Oh man. Why’d Dawn have to go and give me a lead?” Jalen rested his head on his forearms.

  “Better you than a double dose of Carter.” Trevor put a hand on Jalen’s back, patted him gently. It had felt nice when Jalen rubbed his back when he was feeling so lousy last night. Maybe it would work on Jalen, too.

  “Sucks, though. I’m not ready for them to find out I can’t read music. Or that I’ve never done a lead for anything more than singing in the shower.” Jalen turned to look at Trevor. “Not that I should be complaining—”

  “No, I get it.” Trevor cut him off before he could remind them both of the secrets Trevor was keeping. By comparison, Jalen’s secrets were almost cute. “And I’m going to help you. We’ll practice the song until you’ve got it down
.”

  “Really?” Jalen gave him a tentative smile.

  “What else are fake boyfriends good for anyway?” Trevor grabbed his breakfast trash and stood up. Being able to help Jalen with something, being the more knowledgeable one about this one thing made Trevor’s shoulders lift and his feet lighten. He liked Jalen needing him for a change.

  “I can think of a few things.” Jalen gave him a pizza-hot look, scalding all Trevor’s still-sensitive nerve endings.

  “Let’s head upstairs—”

  “My thinking exactly.” Jalen gave a wolfish grin.

  “To practice.”

  All the practice in the world couldn’t save Carter’s voice. Jalen had seriously had to work to keep from smacking the wall of the shower at the memory of how Carter sucked all the emotion out of the song they were covering. It had been a long, bland day of filming. Carter had a pleasant voice but almost no range or depth. He brought all the bubblegum and none of the pain Trevor could have given the lead. That was the thing—Trevor could be very uneven and unpredictable, but when he was on, his voice made Jalen feel things. He had a natural break in his tone that could make Jalen’s toes curl when he hit a long run. Only thing Carter made Jalen feel was the need to shower off the stink of the day.

  An hour workout after dinner and his muscles were still knotted like the bad ties wardrobe had made them wear. Of course more than some of Jalen’s funk might have to do with knowing that Trevor was on the other side of the door. Or at least he should be by now. Trevor’d gotten sucked into watching some talent contest on TV in the living room with some of the guys, but Jalen hadn’t been able to tell whether Trevor had been genuinely interested in the show or whether he was just looking to put off being alone with Jalen.

  What a mess. He rested his head against the cool tile of the shower. The bathroom was seriously so small he could open the door while still in the shower, but he didn’t give in to the temptation to peek. Maybe it would be easier if Trevor wasn’t back. Jalen could go and pretend to sleep and they wouldn’t have to have a talk about how they weren’t doing a repeat of last night.

  He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist. Yeah, the simplest thing would be—

  Trevor lay on Jalen’s bed, reading something on his phone. He looked up as Jalen stood in the bathroom door.

  Fuck.

  Jalen’s frustration must have shown on his face because the tips of Trevor’s ears went pink and he sat up, hands going out like Jalen was pointing a water gun at him. “Oh hey. I was just . . . never mind. I’ll go on up to my bunk. Sorry, I—”

  “Stop.” Jalen cut Trevor off before he rambled them both right off the side of a cliff. There had been some other emotion on his face when Jalen opened the door—just a flash of something sweet and hopeful—and Jalen had killed it dead with a single glower. He wanted that look back. “Stay.”

  “Really? Because it’s totally okay—my blood sugar’s been normal all day. I can—”

  “It’s fine.” Jalen pulled on flannel pants under his towel, dropping the towel when the pants were up. Trevor’s eyebrows arched above his glasses.

  Yeah, I know I’m being ridiculous. Sue me. Jalen used his eyes and a flick of the towel to send a message back to Mr. Observant.

  “Top bunk’s probably not safe for you even if you think your blood sugar’s normal.” Jalen grabbed at the scrubbiest of reasons for not sending Trevor back up top, which would be the sane thing—the right thing to do. He perched on the side of the bed, not letting himself relax all the way down until he’d said what he needed to say. “You can sleep down here, but we probably shouldn’t fool around.”

  “Aren’t you the same guy who earlier was—never mind, that joking around was for the camera right?” Trevor rubbed at his hair.

  Jalen shrugged. Nothing he did for Trevor was just for the cameras, but it might not be smart to let him know that. And yeah, he’d been totally hanging on Trevor and getting his flirt on earlier in the day. Making eyes at him over bagels was easy. Hell, it would be easy to kiss the confused expression off Trevor’s face. Kissing was great. He loved kissing Trevor—it was everything that came after the kissing that suddenly seemed so complicated.

  “I don’t think we should do anything that you’re going to regret later. I don’t want you feeling lousy.”

  Predictably, Trevor laughed and scooted closer. He didn’t have near the problem with feeling bad as Jalen did with causing the pain. Heck, Jalen would bet that probably none of the other guys Trevor had been with even knew about his issues—or cared. But I do. And Jalen wasn’t going to apologize for being the guy who gave a fuck.

  “Look, I’m going to feel lousy whether we fool around or not. It’s kind of my MO. But I’m not . . .” Trevor made a vague gesture with his hand. “Broken. Or something. I still get horny. And I’ve been thinking all day about what we did last night. I’ve never done anything like that.” He looked away, fingers tracing the seam of the comforter.

  “Me either.” Jalen chewed on his lip. “And like I said, maybe some things are meant to stay fantasy—”

  “Oh no, you do not get to wimp out on me now. Not after the day we’ve had.” Trevor shoved Jalen flat on the bed, straddled his hips.

  “Carter’s voice sucks.” Jalen tried to distract himself from the fact that Trevor’s groin was right the hell against his, and Trevor hadn’t been lying about being horny. “You could do a way better job.”

  “No, I couldn’t. I keep fucking up. As it is, they both keep giving me dirty looks on harmony. At this rate, I’ll never have to be lead again.”

  “Don’t say that.” Jalen didn’t know why the thought of Trevor not singing lead again made him so sad, but it did. Made his chest ache. “You’re better than either of them. Better than me. And please don’t make me spend the next few weeks listening to Carter’s Auto-Tuned crap.”

  “You really want to hear me sing again?” Trevor leaned down, lips dangerously close to Jalen’s. “Make me.”

  Aw. Hell. Jalen’s control was only so good. He grabbed Trevor’s shoulders, closing the rest of the gap between them. But he tried to add some finesse to the kiss, not head straight for the fast and dirty. He teased the edges of Trevor’s mouth with his tongue, waiting until he pushed impatiently against his chest before delving inside. He gave Trevor the deep kissing they both craved before pulling back to suck at his lower lip.

  Trevor rocked against Jalen, hard dicks rubbing together through the fabric of their pajama pants. He pushed at Jalen’s arms. “Come on. Fight me.”

  “No.” Jalen tried for another gentle kiss, but Trevor growled at him and didn’t open up. Jalen gave up before he ended up bit. “We don’t have to do it that way. That’s not like my only kink or something. We can just do it normal.”

  “Normal?” Trevor’s mouth wrinkled like it had when he’d discovered Alfredo sauce on the menu for dinner.

  Jalen sighed. He shouldn’t have to spell these things out. Oh wait. This was Trevor. Of course he had to. “You know. Just make out until we both get off. Or trade handjobs while we kiss.”

  That’d be hot. He hadn’t had a chance to see Trevor’s dick yet. He was all over the idea of getting to touch him. They could lie next to each other and kiss and touch and hopefully by not going so rough, Jalen could take care of Trevor better this time, make sure he didn’t feel bad after.

  “You really want that?” Trevor sat up, and freaking fuck, he pulled his T-shirt off. An uneven line of hickeys dotted his chest. They bloomed purplish pink against Trevor’s pale skin.

  Jalen made a sound that wasn’t quite a whimper but wasn’t that far off either. Way to be manly, dude. Trevor had let him do that. Let him suck and bite and moan for more. He’d walked around all day wearing Jalen’s marks. His left nipple even looked a little puffy.

  I want to feel you tomorrow.

  Coming in his shorts from nothing more than the pressure of Trevor against him and the memory of those words would be bad right? Right. H
e took a shaky breath.

  “Uhng.” The sound that came out on his exhale wasn’t much further up the manly scale, and Trevor smiled down at him like he knew exactly how screwed Jalen was.

  “I’ve also got bruises here.” Trevor held out his wrists, displaying faint circles where Jalen had held him too tight.

  “Fuck.” Jalen brought Trevor’s arm to his mouth, kissed the bruise. “I promised you I wouldn’t do it anywhere people could see.”

  He traced each bruise with the tip of his tongue. So damn hot. So wrong. He shouldn’t be getting off on this. And yet he totally was. He wanted to kiss each hickey on Trevor’s chest, too. Touch them. Lick them. Make more.

  “It’s okay. Shirts today were long sleeves. I kept pushing up my sleeves to look at them.” His smile then was a shy thing that darted right for Jalen’s heart like a feral kitten he had no business taking home and was likely to get all scratched up by.

  Mmm. Scratches. Okay. Bad line of thought.

  “I don’t need the wrestling.” Jalen’s voice totally lacked conviction.

  “It felt like I’d jumped out of an airplane. I’ve never had anything like that. Don’t you want to feel that again?”

  “It’s all fun until you go splat with no parachute.” Jalen gave in to temptation and ran his fingers over the hickeys on Trevor’s chest. “I don’t want to be the one to toss you out of the plane to a bad place, man.”

  “I don’t care about after right now.” Trevor rocked against him. This level of aggression from Trevor was hella hot. “And actually . . . it wasn’t as bad as it sometimes is. You hugging me helped.” He said the last bit softly, eyes looking down at Jalen’s chest.

  “I can do that.” Jalen was a weak, weak fucker. But he was powerless in the face of Trevor’s pleas and his own wants. And honestly, he’d known as soon as he saw Trevor sprawled on his bed that they were going here.