Chapter 17 #2
Dexter squirmed beneath him, hands clasped around Jonah’s wrists as he tried to stop the dagger from coming down to deal the final blow.
The rest of the cast stood round in rapt attention, the tension Dexter added to the scene enthralling, a completely desperate and believable side of Hector no one had seen before.
It worked. The struggle. The last-ditch attempt to save his life.
And when Jonah finally plunged the dagger to the side of his neck, some of the cast gasped and covered their mouths in shock.
They knew the scene, of course, but seeing it played out so close and with the added hope from Hector meant the experience hit them differently.
Jonah had to give it to Dexter; he played the part brilliantly.
He wondered what Dexter was like as Achilles.
If he put as much of his soul into the role as he clearly was doing with Hector, then he must have been spectacular.
“Amazing,” Colbie said from the corner, unlit cigarette between her lips as she clapped, spurring the others on to do the
same. “I bloody love it!”
“So, the stage will rotate here as the orchestra start the beginning notes of the next song, and when it gets to the back
you guys will be in darkness ready to exit stage left,” a stage technician said, gesturing with his hands how the rotation
would work as Jonah watched him from his position straddling Dexter’s lap.
As the cast for the next scene made their way onto the stage marked out on the flooring, Jonah looked down at Dexter as he
felt him shift beneath him. He knew he needed to get up to make way for the others, he didn’t want to be the one responsible
for holding up a rehearsal, but the look on Dexter’s face told him to stay still. Jonah became aware of two important things
at the exact same time. Firstly, Dexter looked fucking insatiable with a deep red flush over his cheeks. Secondly, he could
feel from where his legs were positioned on either side of the other man, right where his arse was, that Dexter was undeniably
hard.
“Oh my God, are you—”
“Shut up,” Dexter whispered, his tone as sharp as knives. “You need to get off me and make sure no one looks at us.”
Jonah glanced at the bodies congregating along the white line on the floor, all with their backs to them, apart from the people
sitting at the front of the room watching. “You’ve got to move, or we are going to be stuck right in the middle of the scene.”
“Just hang on.” Dexter placed his hands on Jonah’s waist and eased him from his lap, then not so elegantly rolled onto his
side to face the back of the studio then shuffled on his bum to the edge and out of the way of the others. Jonah watched him,
his own cheeks burning, and stood awkwardly; he’d already taken too long to exit the space, and he could feel Colbie’s eyes
drilling into the back of his head as he took a seat on the floor beside Dexter.
“That will teach you not to wear such tight joggers,” Jonah whispered.
“Shut up.”
“Wait, oh my God—” Jonah gawped at Dexter as realization dawned on him. This happened before. Dexter also didn’t get up from
the floor the first time they did their combat rehearsals. “You got turned on the first time we did this.” He was hard then
and hard now. All from having Jonah on his lap, riding him like a cowboy. Yee fucking haw.
“Will you keep your voice down?” Dexter cupped a hand over Jonah’s mouth. Jonah licked his palm in retaliation, and Dexter
scowled at him, dropping his hand. “Seriously, I’m bloody embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.”
“Easy for you to say.” He adjusted the crotch of his joggers and pulled his legs up to his chest protectively. “I swear it
won’t happen onstage.”
“I should hope not. Can’t have Hector all aroused while being stabbed to death.” He nudged his shoulder against Dexter’s and
leaned in to whisper to him, his breath tickling the skin on the blond’s neck. “If you took me for that drink, you might get
me on your lap without all these people watching.”
Jonah didn’t think it was possible for Dexter’s face to turn a deeper shade of red, but somehow he managed it. He swallowed
thickly and turned his head to look at Jonah, their faces close, close enough for their lips to meet with very little effort
if one of them made the move.
“What if,” Dexter whispered, “I would rather be on top of you like that?”
It was Jonah’s turn to feel the stirrings of something in the pit of his stomach. Butterflies, maybe. Or probably just carnal
desire, but butterflies sounded better.
“Take me for a drink and we can find out.”
Dexter nodded. “After the show.”
“Huh?”
“After my first show as Hector, I’ll take you for a drink then.”
Jonah’s eyes flicked down to Dexter’s crotch. Despite the way he sat, being so close to him meant Jonah could still get a
good view of him, and he could see the outline of his erection clear as day. “That’s in a week,” Jonah stated, bringing his
eyes to meet Dexter’s again. “Why wait a week?”
“It’ll be better that way.” Dexter cleared his throat as the cast in front of them slowly chanted the next song.
He waved to Peter, who still stood at the front beside Colbie, and gestured to the bag on the floor next to him.
Peter rolled his eyes and kicked it across the floor to him, where it hit Dexter’s shins.
He wasted no time in opening the bag to pull out a lavender-colored jumper, and Jonah noticed the embroidered lemons on it right away.
“Piniquo?” Jonah asked, earning him a surprised but delighted smile from Dexter.
“Yes,” he said. “Fashionable and also doubles up as a boner protector.” He stood and held the jumper loosely at his waist,
covering his crotch entirely as he smirked down at Jonah. “Now, leave me alone; I’m incredibly busy and important.” He sauntered
out of the room to the sound of the cast singing aggressively about the gods and spoils of war.
God. Jonah wanted to touch every inch of his skin and he couldn’t believe he was thinking this way about Dexter bloody Ellis.
The thought terrified and excited him in equal measures. A drink in a week, seven days. He reminded himself that good things
come to those who wait.