Chapter Twenty-Two
Lucas
It’s been a few weeks since the first time I stayed at Hunter’s, and almost every night he’s been in town since, I’m there.
By silent agreement, we don’t mention Ellis or that what we’re doing might be wrong.
We don’t talk about any of the things we want to avoid.
He’ll go to practice and ask about my schedule for the day, then say something like, Wanna come over tonight?
And I always say yes and always spend the night.
When he’s traveling, he’ll be like, I leave on Friday or Saturday and won’t be home until Sunday night…
maybe you can come over after work on Monday, and again, I always say yes.
All the while, Hunter’s been playing incredibly. They don’t win every week, but the whole football world is buzzing about the Comeback King.
We just got out of the shower, Hunter sitting on his bed, wearing nothing but a towel. I go through my camera bags, making sure I have everything I need.
“You gonna get dressed, or is clothing optional at practice today?” I tease, raising one of my film cameras like I’m going to take a photo.
“I only want to wrestle naked with you.” He pumps his brows.
I expect him to tell me not to take a photo, but he doesn’t say anything, so I look at him over the top of the camera and ask, “Can I? No one will see it.”
He simply nods, no hesitation.
I snap a few photos.
“Lie down,” I instruct, and Hunter does, the towel parting slightly. He doesn’t move to close it, so I take a few more, from different angles, wishing the lighting was better but unwilling to stop and break the moment.
He watches as I climb on the bed. I move my hand slowly, giving Hunter time to tell me no, and open his towel. His cock is soft, in a nest of brown hair.
I snap photo after photo, documenting this moment, how fucking beautiful he is, and the trust he’s giving me.
I straddle Hunter’s legs, see his cock begin to grow, while he lets me photograph him this way.
My camera moves up his body, from his dick to his torso to his face, and the soft smile and almost reverent look he’s giving me. “My best work yet,” I tease.
Hunter rolls his eyes. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”
“No, but I see you.”
He smiles, and I capture that as well, then take another of my hand around his hardened shaft, of the pearl of precum at the tip, zoom in on the sac I love to bury my face in.
“I think you might become my favorite thing to photograph. Touch yourself.”
Hunter’s pupils flare, and he does as I say, replacing my hand with his and stroking himself to full hardness. I continue to take photos, some with my digital and some with my film camera.
“Don’t come,” I say.
“I’m close.”
“I know. Turn over. I want your ass too.” I move off him, and again, Hunter doesn’t hesitate.
I palm his ass cheek and snap a photo, then take some of just his ass, spread him wider, and then…
“Can I take a photo of your hole, Hunt? When we’re not together, I’ll look at it and jack off, pretending I’m inside you. ”
He ruts against the bed. “Fuck. How do you do this to me?”
What? I want to ask. What am I doing to you? Wanting to soak up each and every word he gives me.
“Yes. I trust you.”
Those words make me fucking soar. I take photo after photo of his perfect hole, tease it with my finger, rub it, make him feel good, watch it clench before I roll him onto his back and say, “Now you can come.” It doesn’t take him long, and when he does, I capture it—cum flying through the air, his mouth open, neck arched, the pure fucking bliss on his face as he works his pretty cock.
He’s panting when he’s done. I set the camera down, then lick up the cum all over his chest and from his fingers.
“Christ,” he says.
I chuckle. “I can’t help it. I like to be dirty with you.”
“I like to be dirty with you too,” Hunter admits. “I wouldn’t have done that with anyone else…wouldn’t have wanted to. You make me feel…like I’m a different person, or like I can be a different person, like my life doesn’t only have to be about one thing.”
Hearing him say shit like that is going to do me in. He’s already playing games with my heart.
“Good. Now get your ass up before you’re late.”
He laughs, kisses me, then rolls off the bed. Sometimes it’s easy to trick myself into believing he’s really mine.
*
My shoot got canceled because of a missed flight, so I do some work around the studio, then meet Isla for lunch. We haven’t hung out nearly as much as we would have if I wasn’t spending every spare minute of my time with Hunter. I hate being a shitty friend, but I know she’ll understand.
We decide to meet at one of our favorite queer clubs on Santa Monica Blvd.
They open for brunch daily, serve delicious food, and have events like drag shows.
It’s not until I’m sitting on the patio, a hot guy in booty shorts and a crop top asking me what I’d like to drink, that I wonder if Hunter has ever been to a place like this.
I order for both Isla and me, knowing what she’d want. He winks and slips away.
Does Hunter frequent queer establishments? Have queer friends?
I always respected Hunter for coming out young.
Maybe he only did that because he was dating Ellis, but I understand how much courage that took—to be out before college, before proving himself outside of being a kick-ass high school player.
But he’s so immersed in sports and football, I can’t help wondering if he allows himself to experience the beauty of queer culture.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Isla kisses me on the cheek, then sits across from me. “You looked deep in thought.”
“I was thinking about Hunter.”
She cocks a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “As if that’s anything new.”
“I know.” I groan. “It’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even know if he’s been to a queer bar.”
“He’s an out bisexual man who lives in LA. How can he not have been to a queer bar?” She seems honestly confused.
“It’s different for him, in his world. At least, I think it is. I don’t know if I could ever see Hunter coming here, or if he’s even had someone to come with.”
“Ellis wouldn’t have?”
It’s a valid question, one I have no answer for, except maybe a hunch. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have considered it his scene.”
“We should bring Hunter out, then.” Isla shrugs as if it’s really that easy.
I lower my voice. “Yes, because a professional football player at a queer bar in WeHo wouldn’t draw attention. Oh, and the fact that he’s with the brother of his dead boyfriend, the brother his family hates.”
Her eyes soften, and she takes my hand. “Your family doesn’t hate you. They just don’t understand you. And your dad is the world’s biggest dick, so fuck him.”
I can’t help but grin. God, I love her. I wish Hunter could meet her.
“So…how are things going with your little tight end?”
“He’s a running back,” I counter.
“I wasn’t talking about his position, babe. I looked up photos of him. He’s definitely your tight end.”
We both dissolve into laughter. It’s exactly what I need. I love my time with Hunter, but it’s mostly spent locked up in his house, and even when we’re having fun together, there’s always a heaviness to what we’re doing because I know it will end.
The waiter returns with our drinks.
“Thank you. This is perfect,” Isla tells me. We order food, and when it’s just the two of us again, she asks, “How is it really going?”
I can’t stop the smile splitting my face as I think about this morning, about the photos on my camera, and the trust Hunter gave me.
“He’s a great fuck.”
“Which is the least important thing you care about. Don’t be stupid. You know you can always be real with me.”
She’s right, but old habits die hard.
“Sometimes it feels perfect. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have with him.
More than I deserve. But…fuck, Isla. There’s always this cloud hanging over me.
I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to change his mind, get tired of this, for my father to find out and remind Hunter all the reasons he shouldn’t be with me.
Hunt’s like Ellis. Neither of them ever wanted to let him down. ”
She frowns. “You never wanted to let him down either. You just wanted to be yourself. He’s the one who let you down by not supporting his son simply because you didn’t come out as a mini him.”
My neck prickles uncomfortably. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay, then we’ll talk about the fact that if that’s the case, if Hunter walks away from you because of your father, then he never deserved you in the first place.
You’re fucking incredible, Lucas, and I wish you’d see that.
I’ll tear into anyone who doesn’t see it, including the secret love of your life.
Don’t let him or anyone else make you think you’re less than you are.
” She reaches over the table and takes my hand again.
Isla’s been through so much, but she’s never let that stop her from being who she is, never stopped her from being the kindest person I know.
“Thanks, Isla. I love you, ya know?”
She smiles. “I know, babe. I love you too.”