From Morocco to Paris (15 page)

He looked back up cautiously. Davey continued gazing silently at him.

“How wonderful it would be to live in the world you live in,” Zane said. “Where everything is simple, where you take what you want without fear of consequence. But I don’t live in that world, and I never will. If you can accept that, I can accept that you don’t live in a world where caution and paranoia drive everything you do. And maybe we can compromise.”

Davey took a step forward. They stared into each other’s eyes.

Zane said softly, “Don’t lose faith in me. Just give me a chance.”

Davey dropped his gaze and focused on Zane’s chest. After a long, tense moment, he looked back up.

“I never would have had faith in you in the first place if I didn’t believe you were capable of something like this,” Davey said.

Zane swallowed. “I’m so sorry those idiots did that to you. You shouldn’t have been treated that way.”

Davey gazed at him a moment, eyes getting a little brighter, throat working. “I’m sorry your father was an asshole who beat you,” he whispered.

They wrapped their arms around each other and embraced. After a long, tight squeeze, Davey said with a wet laugh, “You’re forgiven. Now go take that
stupid
picture off your binder. I look like hell in it.”

Zane chuckled and drew back, still holding Davey’s arms.

“No, I don’t think I will. You don’t look like hell in it, I don’t think so.”

Davey fixed him with a critical look, but smiled. “We’ll see how long this lasts.”

“We better get back in there.” Zane tugged Davey’s hair. “You don’t want to let Cristiano down.”

“You guys orchestrated this, didn’t you?”

Zane grinned slyly. “Maybe.”

“Figures. It takes twelve of you to cobble together an apology.”

“I got you another gift too,” Zane said. “Do you like pottery?”

***

“Isn’t my boyfriend clever?” Elliot asked, walking alongside Zane out to the cars. The sun had just set, and the glittering city of Cairo stretched like a sinful promise in the valley below, beckoning them to come party. “He knew exactly what to do, didn’t he?”

“Boyfriend?” Zane looked over at him. “It’s official now?”

“Between us it is. Not for the tabloids yet. I want to tell my family first.”

Zane smiled. Cristiano and Davey trailed behind and they caught up.

“Did you give him his pottery?” Cristiano asked as they reached Elliot’s car.

“Oh God, I’m all aflutter,” Davey said. “Some pot, just for me!”

Zane smiled and unlocked the back door. He delved into his bag on the backseat and pulled out a wide bowl with handles, painted bright red with blue stripes. He turned and held the pot out to Davey, presenting it like a chalice. Davey tilted his head.

“It’s handmade,” Cristiano said. “And hand painted.”

“And breaks over a guy’s head real easy,” Elliot said.

Davey took the pot and peered into it, then looked up at Zane.

“What in the name of hell am I going to do with this?” Davey asked.

“I was gonna put beer in it, if you didn’t want it.” Zane shrugged.

Davey smiled and wrapped his arms around his gift. “Thank you.”

“So, are we going out or what?” Elliot threw his bag in the car. “I have a whole list of clubs we can hit.”

Zane looked at Davey. “Are we going out?”

“Let’s.” Davey smiled. “I’ll bring my pot so we can fill it with beer.”

Zane watched him walk around the car, the pot dangling from one hand, duffel bag thumping against his hip, his hair shifting on his shoulders. One thing Zane had never been able to deny even in his most steadfast moments: Davey took his breath away, even at his most mundane. He had a feeling the most insane ride of his life awaited him.

Chapter 12

The flash of cameras, the swarm of screaming fans and eager press -- adrenaline pumped through Zane’s body as he forced his way through the crowd behind Elliot. The excitement made him remember why he’d chosen this life. They were at the premiere and he was walking down the red carpet for the first time. Not quite a celebrity himself, but he was
there
.

The cast was already lined up, posing for pictures and answering questions, and Elliot went to join them. Saul waved to Zane and beckoned him over.

“Glad you could make it!” The director chuckled and draped an arm over Zane’s shoulders. They’d become good friends. Saul had taken him under his wing and soon, Zane would be a household name, just like him.

“Traffic was a bitch,” Zane said over the commotion. He scanned the crowd and saw…him. Cristiano had brought his assistant too.

Davey looked stunning. His hair rested on his shoulders in soft waves. He wore all black, under a long black coat, with a black scarf slung over one shoulder. His blue eyes caught the flashes, wide and beautiful. He walked up to Zane and smiled. Zane warily smiled back.

“I think it’s time to make this official,” Davey said over the noise, leaning toward him. “Don’t you?”

Zane stared blankly at him. Then, before Zane could answer, Davey gripped his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips.

All attention instantly focused on them. Gasps rose, the only sound as a hush settled swiftly over the crowd. Zane couldn’t move, frozen in horror.

When Davey pulled away his eyes were limpid, smile soft, lips glistening.

“Oh Zane, I love you. I’m not afraid to tell the world.”

Cameras started flashing. A woman with a microphone stood nearby, staring like a deer caught in the headlights. Zane saw Elliot, gaping at them in disbelief. Zane was
so
fired.

Davey moved downward, slipping his hands around to grip Zane’s hips. He latched onto one of Zane’s shirt buttons with his teeth and ripped it off. He spit the button across the carpet and it landed at the woman reporter’s feet. The photographers snapped pictures of the sexily discarded item.

“I want to show everyone how I feel about you,” Davey said and gazed up at Zane adoringly, now on his knees.

He started undoing Zane’s pants. Zane still couldn’t move, frozen in place.

Davey fully undid Zane’s pants and pushed them and his underwear down enough to free his cock. People shouted in excitement and disbelief. Then Davey slid his mouth over him, hot and wet. Zane had gotten hard despite the situation.

“What the fuck is this pansy shit?” Saul shouted, only he sounded like Zane’s father. Davey began bobbing eagerly.

“Are you mocking me?” Elliot cried out. “This isn’t fucking funny, Zane!”

Zane looked down and Davey’s luminous blue eyes met his over his groin. He moaned around Zane’s cock, sending vibrations down the shaft.

Zane sat up in bed, screaming.

An anxious flailing erupted in the covers next to him. Davey sat up as well with an alarmed shout, pushing his hair from his face.

“What is it?” Davey asked. “What’s going on!”

Zane, panting and soaked with sweat, lifted the covers and peeked down at his crotch. His cock was rock hard.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed.

Davey looked over Zane’s shoulder. “It’s just your dick, Zane, no need to be alarmed. It won’t bite if you don’t threaten it.”

Zane dropped the covers. Davey pushed his hair back from his forehead with an irritable scowl.

“What the hell were you screaming about!” Davey asked.

“I had a nightmare.” Zane rubbed a hand over his face. “You were sucking my dick.”

He realized belatedly those words didn’t sound right at all. Davey’s mouth fell open.

“On the red carpet at the premiere!” Zane said.

Davey stared at him a moment, snapped his mouth shut, and cracked up laughing.

Zane glared at him. “Fuck you.”

Davey fell back on his pillow, still cackling. Zane sighed.

Morning sunlight blazed through the windows and fell across the bed. The air was stuffy and smelled like cigarette smoke and sex. Davey’s pot sat on the vanity, the light making the colors brighter and bolder. They were in Davey’s room.

Zane flung the covers back, intending to get up and go to the bathroom and leave Davey to laugh his idiot head off, but he realized nothing would function properly. His cock still stood at attention, remembering the nuances of dream-Davey’s mouth.

“I think you have issues,” Davey said, his laughter tapering to chuckles. Zane felt the mattress shift and Davey raked his fingernails lightly down his back, making his cock perk further. “Your mind is finally turning against you.”

Zane squirmed. “I gotta take a piss, stop.”

“You can use my pot.” Davey stopped his fingers at the base of Zane’s spine and rested them there. “Your piss is probably pure alcohol this morning anyway, so it won’t make a difference to any beer left in there.”

Zane remembered with amusement they had actually filled the pot with beer the night before.

“That’s not the issue,” Zane said and looked down at his lap. Maybe if he smoked a cigarette and calmed down…

More shifting, and Davey came crawling around on his elbows.

“My, granny, what a big boner you have.”

“Fucking pervert.”

“No, your line is ‘all the better to fill your mouth, my child.’”

“Would you stop it!” Zane’s cock surged again at the thought. “I want it to go down so I can take a piss!”

“I know how to get it to go down.”

“You’re not hitting it with anything.”

Davey’s hair brushed Zane’s thigh, which definitely didn’t help. In fact, a bead of moisture formed at the tip and trickled out. Zane almost groaned.

“Don’t be ignorant,” Davey said.

He clambered onto his knees, then, after nudging Zane back, leaned over him. Davey’s skin felt warm and silky from sleep, his hair draping over Zane’s thighs, soft and tickling. Zane sat back on his hands and before he could protest, the supple, wet heat of Davey’s mouth slid over him.

Zane groaned and bit his lip. Davey had wrapped himself up in the sheet, bare shoulders hunkered over Zane’s groin. He slid his hand around the base and bobbed his head.

Zane tried to enjoy the blowjob and not think about red carpets, or his father’s voice in Saul’s mouth. Davey worked his hand smoothly up and down in rhythm with the slick slide of his lips and tongue, engulfing Zane’s entire cock. His attentions felt so deliriously good Zane forgot all about nightmares, his toes curling, fisting his hands in the sheets.

He wanted to draw Davey’s hair back from his face so he could watch, but he couldn’t manage in his half-sitting position, supported by his arms. Davey rested his other hand on Zane’s thigh, rubbing his fingers in light circles near his balls. The room was so quiet, so still and warm, Zane could hear the soft slurping sounds he made around him. Occasionally Davey would sigh, or moan softly, and the sensation traveled all the way down Zane’s cock.

Zane only lasted a few minutes, though much more time seemed to pass. He sat up and touched the back of Davey’s head as he neared the edge. Then he emitted a sharp gasp, leaning over him. Davey slid off the edge of the bed and onto his knees on the floor, sucking with vigor.

“Oh God, fuck,” Zane gritted out. He shuddered as the first spurt shot out of him.

Davey maintained perfect grace, continuing to stroke and keeping his mouth over the head to catch the release and swallowing it down.

When Zane finished, he flopped back on the bed, panting. He gazed up at the ceiling. The sun picked out the swirling patterns in the plaster, the world wrapped in a gauzy yellow haze.

Davey left his groin with a parting lick to Zane’s cock. Thankfully, it started to soften. Davey pressed against him, arm draped over Zane’s chest, face next to his. Zane turned his head and looked at him. Davey smiled, his lips shiny and swollen.

“Feel better now?” Davey asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Zane smiled back. “However, can you get off me? I really have to piss.”

Davey smirked and rolled away.

No shooting had been scheduled that day, so they intended to plan some fun activities. Breakfast from room service made a good start. They hashed over trips to markets, temples, and a bevy of sightseeing while they ate, but in the end they simply sprawled on the bed, windows open, the warm breeze drifting in.

Zane lay one way, stretched out on his stomach, and Davey the other, sitting up propped on the pillows, so Davey’s bare feet were next to Zane’s head at the bottom of the bed. Zane read a magazine, and Davey did a crossword puzzle in one of the entertainment papers.

“Maybe we should take a bus tour,” Davey suggested. “Or go out on the Nile on one of the cruises.”

“Hm,” Zane answered, turning a page.

A lull of silence.

“You wanna sixty-nine?” Davey asked. Zane could hear his pencil scraping across the paper. “Since we’re in the right position and all.”

“Maybe,” Zane said idly. “Let me finish reading this article first.”

A few minutes later Davey’s phone went off, a jarring sound in the easy silence.

“Hullo?” His foot twitched next to Zane’s face, and Zane glanced over. “Hi. Yeah. No…nope. Haven’t seen him.”

Zane dropped his magazine and reached over, took hold of Davey’s foot, and peered at his toes. Davey wiggled them.

“Nope,” Davey said into the phone. “Hm. You could call Elliot and ask him.”

“God, you need a pedicure,” Zane muttered, low enough so the person on the other end wouldn’t hear. He picked at one of Davey’s toenails, and Davey tried to kick him away.

“I’m not sure, but you know how it is with him,” Davey said.

Zane gripped Davey’s foot and tried to gnaw on the offending toenail. Davey hit him on the back of the head with his paper.

“I don’t know! I gotta go. I’ll see you later!”

After Davey clicked off, he yanked his foot away and pinched Zane hard on the calf. Zane yelped and chuckled.

“God! Leave my damn feet alone!” Davey said. “You nasty bastard, how do you know where they’ve been?”

“They’re clean. You took a shower last night after we got back. I helped you wash your back, remember?” Zane smirked, propped on his elbows. He turned and picked up his magazine. “Who was on the phone?”

“Rory.”

“Rory? What did he want?”

“He was looking for you. Why are you guys suddenly best friends?”