When Jack made his call, Patrick moved in. He held Rhys’s cock just out of the way, but as he moved, he inadvertently stroked it, no matter how hard he tried to keep his hand still. He looked up, meeting Rhys’s eyes, and the expression on Rhys’s face reminded him vividly of the one time he’d had Rhys’s dick in his mouth for real. Rhys looked seriously aroused, the expression intense, and Patrick had to fight to keep his own face looking aroused instead of showing the regret he was feeling.
Regret that he really was pleasuring Rhys. Regret that it wasn’t Chance. Regret that he was doing this at all.
He closed his eyes, unable to keep watching. Rhys’s fingers threaded through Patrick’s hair, and Patrick lifted his free hand to rest on Rhys’s stomach. He tried to ignore the soft moans Rhys let loose and kept moving his head, hoping he could just get it over with. He didn’t know how much longer Jack could want to film, what he was looking for, and he was about to stop it himself and ask when Jack called, “Cut!”
Patrick sat back, letting Rhys worry about covering his own cock. Patrick looked up at Jack. “And?”
Jack nodded slowly. “I think that part will work. The rest is on the bed.”
Patrick breathed a small sigh of relief. At least that part was over. In all the worry and all the mess, he’d managed to lose his erection, though he knew that wouldn’t last. He couldn’t quite look at Rhys as he settled onto the bed until they were facing each other, Rhys kneeling between Patrick’s legs. He couldn’t decipher the look on Rhys’s face.
Before he could speak or ask—not that he was sure he wanted to know what Rhys was thinking—Rhys pulled him in, wrapping both arms around him. “Patrick….” He took a breath. “Let me, just… let me pleasure you. Just this one time.”
Patrick sighed, closing his eyes and trying to hold on to his patience. “Rhys… I can’t. I have someone I have committed to. I’m sorry that hurts you, but it’ll hurt him a lot more if I let you do that.”
“Can’t you just think of it like Cyrus and Nadir?” he asked, pulling back, eyes pleading. “Just think of it for the scene.”
Patrick shook his head. “I know better, Rhys. I know that’s not what’s really going on. Look….” He sighed. “Some of it is going to happen, whether I want it to or not. But I cannot give you permission to actively do it. I can’t. I’ve committed to him. We are partners, Rhys. It’s bad enough I am doing this much.”
Rhys swallowed several times, dropping his eyes. “I….” He took a deep breath. “I understand.”
Patrick closed his own eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling miserable.
“No, I am,” Rhys said, and Patrick looked up at him, raising his eyebrows. “I am. I promised you earlier not to push your limits, and here I am, doing just that.” He pulled Patrick in again and hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s… it’s okay.” Patrick had no idea how to handle this, what to say. He felt like he was getting whiplash from the shifts from Rhys.
“Are you two ready yet?” Jack asked, sounding annoyed.
Patrick pulled back and turned to Jack. “Yeah, we’re ready.”
“About time,” he grumbled, backing up.
Patrick and Rhys exchanged looks. Rhys nodded, and Patrick hoped that meant what he wanted it to—that Rhys wouldn’t try anything—but somehow he didn’t think so.
Once the calls were made, Patrick fell back, smiling up at Rhys, who leaned in and kissed him. Patrick focused on just doing what he could to make Jack happy, keeping it as “loving” as possible. He cupped Rhys’s face in his hands, returning the kiss with all he could.
When Rhys pulled back, the smile on his face made Patrick nervous. It was, once more, that genuine one. But he tried to ignore the worries, remembering instead what he was supposed to be doing, and reached above his head to grip the headboard as Rhys kissed a path along his chest.
Gratefully, Rhys kept it pretty direct, not stopping at Patrick’s nipples. Even so, he was half-hard before Rhys ever got to his cock. When Rhys paused, poised over Patrick’s cock, the dark eyes fixed on him. Patrick swallowed at the heat in them, at the want and the need, and knew without a doubt, not a bit of that had anything to do with Cyrus and Nadir.
Then Rhys did something that made Patrick want to hit him. He swallowed Patrick’s cock.
“Fuck, Rhys!” Pure shock kept him from actually following through on punching Rhys, but he wanted to. He wondered briefly why the scene didn’t cut, then realized Jack must have liked what he saw, but Patrick wasn’t going to be the recipient of a real blow job on screen any more than he was going to give one. “Stop,” he growled, reaching for Rhys.
Rhys pulled off and looked up. Jack sighed and grumbled something Patrick couldn’t hear, but he didn’t care. Patrick sat up and glared at Rhys for a long moment, and then he took a deep breath, managed to put away the urge to blacken Rhys’s eye, and spoke. “Do you care about me at all?” he asked.
Rhys’s eyebrows dropped into a puzzled scowl. “Yes, of course I do. I’ve been telling you that all season.”
“Then why the fuck would you do that? When you know I don’t want it?”
The look on Rhys’s face, if Patrick wasn’t so pissed, would have made him feel horrible. But he was way too angry to allow himself to feel it.
“I’m sorry,” Rhys muttered. “I just….” He swallowed, refusing to meet Patrick’s eyes. “Just… thought it’d get the scene over faster.”
Patrick closed his own eyes for a moment and counted to ten. “Don’t. Don’t try to bullshit me. For all the shit over the last several months, you haven’t lied to me yet, have you?”
Rhys sighed but shook his head.
“Then don’t start now. You wanted to pleasure me; that’s all it was. This is not going to change. I love and am committed to someone else, and I am not going to cheat on him, despite what I’m doing here. Because we are just shooting a sex scene. I don’t care how “loving” it’s supposed to be—that’s between the characters, not us. If you can’t handle that, I will get up and walk off of this set right now. I’ll find some other way to get Jack his scene, but I’m not going to do this with you.”
Rhys looked up at him for a long moment, swallowing several times and obviously fighting with something inside himself. Finally, he said, “Don’t… don’t go. I’m… I’m sorry.”
Patrick considered him, then nodded. “Don’t do it again.”
Rhys shook his head. “I won’t.”
Patrick lay back, staring up into the blackness at the top of the studio. He didn’t know how many more of these kinds of scenes he could handle. Every time he got naked with someone who wasn’t Chance, it bothered him more and more. He took a deep breath, looked up at Rhys, then over to Jack. “Sorry. I’m ready.”
“Fine. Let’s get this part right. We still have a lot left to do.”
“No shit,” Patrick muttered and looked up at Rhys again. “You okay?”
Rhys nodded. “Yeah. I… I am.”
This time, Rhys did the same thing Patrick had. He wrapped his hand around Patrick’s dick, positioned his mouth as close as possible without actually being on it, then started moving. Of course, Rhys’s hand moved, stroking Patrick, though it did look like Rhys tried not to. Despite that, his already half-hard length was rock hard before long.
Patrick closed his eyes, tried his best to ignore the arousal, and focus on getting through. It felt good, and he reminded himself it was a base physical reaction to stimuli. He was going to react to it. That didn’t mean he was cheating on Chance. Chance understood this. He pushed the frustration with the situation away, remembering Chance would still love him when it was over, would be there for him.
He opened his eyes and watched Rhys move and then look up at him. Rhys pretended to pull off and kiss his way back up Patrick’s body, and Patrick buried the sigh of relief when Jack didn’t cut the scene.
When Rhys moved all the way up, he kissed Patrick again, and Patrick could feel the a
pology in it. He cupped Rhys’s face, threading his fingers through the curls, and returned it, accepting what Rhys was trying to say through the kiss. When they broke apart, Rhys settled in on top of him, burying his face in Patrick’s neck, cloaking it in kisses. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“Shh,” Patrick murmured into Rhys’s ear. “It’s okay.”
Rhys sat back and took Patrick’s hand then, threading their fingers. Patrick remembered the first position Jack had listed, and he lifted his legs to make it look like Rhys was pushing into him. He hoped to hell his face showed arousal and want, and since Jack wasn’t cutting the scene, he had hope that it did.
When Rhys started moving, though, Patrick had to fight hard against the pleasure that hit. His cock had nowhere else to be except between them, and Rhys’s stomach was tight against it. He couldn’t stop the moan, though he bit his lip to muffle it. Rhys leaned in, kissing him thoroughly as he pretended to thrust.
Patrick struggled to keep the dual stimulation from getting to him. Added to this, Rhys’s cock brushed his ass, making it even more difficult. Despite himself, it felt really good, and he hoped to hell they could switch very soon. Rhys broke the kiss and leaned up, looking down at him. He shifted somehow, grinding against Patrick’s cock even more, and Patrick moaned.
Thankfully, Jack spoke. “Good, change positions.”
Rhys sat back, and Patrick turned, settling in on his knees. Rhys curled over his back, kissing his shoulder as he got into position. Patrick was exceedingly grateful that, at least in this position, his cock would be left alone. With any luck he could calm down a bit.
But when Rhys started moving, his length dragged along Patrick, brushing balls and taint, and Patrick moaned because even that felt good. He knew there wasn’t a better place for it, though. The only other option would be between Patrick’s asscheeks, which would have only made both of them nuts. As hard as it was, Rhys couldn’t very well tuck it, so they were left with it where it was.
Patrick lifted his head, noting Bob was moving the camera around to film their faces. He closed his eyes, reaching back with one hand to Rhys’s hip, and made sure he looked like he was aroused. Not that it was difficult. He was aroused. Even without his cock being touched right then, the feel of Rhys against his back, Rhys’s cock sliding over his asshole, along his taint, and brushing his balls, the kisses Rhys dropped over his shoulder, the arm around him—it all felt way too good.
He was pretty sure Rhys wasn’t even trying to make it that good. It just was. He groaned, laying his head back against Rhys’s shoulder, and turned it to look up at Rhys. Rhys caught his lips in a kiss, a moan leaking through it that Patrick caught.
When they broke apart, Rhys rested his face against Patrick’s temple. “I can’t… it feels good, Patrick, I can’t help it. So fucking good.”
Patrick closed his eyes, squeezing Rhys’s hip in reassurance. He did his damnedest to hold on, just try to get through. They were getting close to the end of the scene now, and Patrick just wanted to finish it.
He had a feeling the third position was going to be the worst, but he tried not to worry about that just yet. He focused instead on his facial expression, on keeping this part going so they wouldn’t have to redo it. When he had that thought, he realized how far they’d gotten through this section without Jack cutting. He renewed his effort to make it good, lifting his hand and threading it through Rhys’s hair. He started to move with Rhys, trying to make it look like he was meeting Rhys’s thrusts.
Of course, it only succeeded in grinding Rhys’s cock into him more, amplifying the pleasure he already felt. He groaned without meaning to and heard an answering moan from Rhys, his friend’s arm tightening around him. He closed his eyes, let his mouth fall open, hoping he looked as aroused as he felt.
Nearly at the point of desperation, he wanted the scene moving forward so it could be over. He needed away from this, away from Rhys. It wasn’t doing either of them any good to keep this up, keep accidentally pleasuring each other while they pretended to do so. It all needed to stop.
“Okay, cut!” Jack called
Patrick opened his eyes, pulling away from Rhys. He raised his eyebrows at the director. “Something wrong with that?”
Jack didn’t seem to be able to meet his eyes. “Uh, no. No, that was fine. Last position.”
Patrick glanced back at Rhys, whose eyebrows were up too. Rhys shrugged, and Patrick turned back to Jack. That’s when he noticed Jack looked uncomfortable and wouldn’t face them completely. He tried not to snicker as he got in place with Rhys. They lay on their sides, Patrick’s back to Rhys, who was curled around him.
“What’s up?” Rhys whispered.
Patrick looked over his shoulder, smirking. “I think Jack’s turned on.”
“Seriously?” Rhys asked, then laughed. “Serves him right.” He shook his head and settled in, trying to adjust his now very hard cock. When it brushed Patrick’s ass, slipping into the crack, he hissed, eyes slamming closed. “Fuck, there’s no good place for this.”
Patrick bit his lip, thinking it through. There really weren’t many places to go with it, just like with the other positions. He pulled his legs forward a little, but he couldn’t go far without it looking wrong. And he knew Jack wouldn’t allow them to cover their legs or hips with the sheet.
Sure enough, when Jack approached a few minutes later—obviously having calmed down—to fix their positioning, he tugged the sheet away first thing.
Patrick sighed when his cock was exposed, again, and shook his head. “Jack, you can’t let my cock be visible,” he reminded the director. “Not like this, and I promise you, it’s not going to go soft anytime soon.”
Jack blushed and frowned. “Well, uh… what if Rhys puts his hand over it?”
Patrick closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Look, why don’t we do it like we did with Angelo? You can put Rhys’s hand under the sheet, it’ll look like stuff is going on, and you don’t piss off the FCC.”
Jack shook his head. “Not good enough. It’s got to be more than in the scene with Angelo. Look, I’m not going to put your cock on screen. Let Bob and I handle the filming and editing.”
“Fuck,” Patrick bit off, looking up at Rhys. He opened his mouth to speak when Jack cut in.
“And Rhys, you’re too far away. You’ve got to be against him—tight against him.”
Patrick heard Rhys sigh; then he moved in again. As soon as he did, his cock slid along Patrick’s crack, nudging the place between his legs, along his taint. Rhys hissed when it filled the small space. He let his own “Fuck!” out, and Patrick felt him struggling for breath. “Sorry,” Rhys whispered, resting his face on Patrick’s shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Patrick said, putting his hand back on Rhys’s hip and squeezing. He took a deep breath and looked up at Jack.
“Okay, that’s better,” Jack said, nodding. Patrick resisted the urge to punch him. Barely. “Rhys, your hand needs to be on his cock. It’s gotta look like you’re stroking him. Our viewers are smart. They know what gay sex is supposed to look like.”
Rhys growled softly, and Patrick sighed, feeling bad for Rhys. It was bad enough the man’s cock was buried in a very arousing place, though it could be worse. At least he wasn’t lubed up. But now poor Rhys had to put his hand on Patrick’s cock—where he wanted it to be—while not actually pleasuring Patrick.
But he put it in place, wrapping it—thankfully loosely—around Patrick’s cock.
Patrick looked up and raised his eyebrows at Jack. “Okay? Can we get this over with now?”
Jack scowled at him and didn’t answer at first. “Hmm. Okay, Rhys, take your hand off for a moment. We’re going to do this in a couple of stages. I think I can make this all work. Put your arms around Patrick completely, holding his hand.” When Rhys did, threading their fingers together, Jack nodded. “Good. Start there. Then you’ll move it, taking his cock and stroking it.”
Patrick sighed, and Rhys kissed his sho
ulder. “Fine, Jack. Remember you said we could handle this? We get it. We know what you want. Now could you please let us finish this?”
Patrick could hear the strain in Rhys’s voice, the scene obviously getting to him.
Jack frowned but nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
“Uh… I have a problem,” Rhys murmured to Patrick when Jack left. “This is going to, uh, chafe. I need to do something, and I seriously hope you don’t get pissed, okay?”
Patrick looked up, raising his eyebrows.
Rhys pulled back, spit into his hand, and spread the spit onto his cock, repeating it a few times, and Patrick understood. There wasn’t a better place for Rhys’s cock if they were going to make Jack happy. And there wasn’t exactly anything to ease Rhys’s cock between Patrick’s legs, and as soon as Rhys got moving, it would very likely hurt, not just Rhys but possibly both of them.
“Not pissed. You okay?”
“I do not doubt for one minute that there’s going to be a mess when it’s over with. I’ll say it right now, I’m sorry.”
Patrick nodded. “It’s okay. I’m… I can’t. I will fight it the whole way—”
“I know.” Rhys kissed his shoulder. “I know. With any luck, we can do this part in one take. I… don’t think I have more than that in me. Do you think you can handle it?”
Patrick knew Rhys was asking about his ability to fake it. Patrick would. He had to. “Yeah. I can. Try… try not to do, uh, too much when you….”
“I got it. I will. Okay?”
Patrick nodded, and they both looked up at Jack. Bob made his call, then Jack added his, and Rhys started moving.
“Oh God, Rhys,” he whispered, shocked by how good it felt. It seemed insane. He wouldn’t have expected Rhys’s spit-slicked cock thrusting into the space between his legs would feel good, but damned if it didn’t. Sliding along his taint, brushing his balls…. Patrick struggled with the pleasure.
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