Chapter 3 #2
“No, Pax, I — I think I know that,” Blake replies with a sigh, allowing Paxton to direct his mug into the sand, using it as a makeshift cupholder.
He should leave the discussion at that, but on a whim, when Pax goes to pull his hand back, Blake grabs it and holds on.
“This okay?” he asks, lifting his eyes in time to see surprise and delight dawn over Pax’s face.
Damn, but he is handsome. The morning light makes Pax look softer, makes his incredible blue eyes sparkle and his dark hair shine. The ocean’s got nothing on that sight, and the way Pax drags his bottom lip through his teeth, Blake’s slowly realizing that he’s very, very fucked, sex ban or no.
“More than,” Paxton replies, tightening his own grip. His hands are soft, too, not calloused and rough from working with them, like Blake’s.
Blake takes a deep breath and lets it out, nodding resolutely even though it’s himself he needs to convince to use his words.
“So, here’s the thing, Pax,” he starts, and like always, Paxton’s staring back with focused attention, like Blake is the only person on the planet.
Strangely, that gives Blake the confidence he’s been looking for, and he spits out his thoughts before he can lose his nerve.
“It’s not like I’m a sex addict or something.
I just prefer hooking up, you know? It’s how I’ve always been, how I had to be for a long time.
Responsibilities and all that. Shit that was bigger than just me.
I only even came here because for the first time in my life, I don’t have all that to worry about anymore. ”
Blake glances up from where he’s been staring down at his swim shorts, worrying the hem between the thumb and index finger of his free hand. Yep, Pax is still staring, but he smiles encouragingly, so Blake continues.
“Past me — you know, the one who wasn’t in on the Ava-catch — would say this is still a win-win situation.
Play by the rules and walk away with some cash, break the rules and get some…
Well, you probably know where I’m going with that.
At the very least, if all else fails, maybe I make a new friend. Maybe it’s that simple.”
Startling him, Paxton laughs loudly and Blake raises his eyebrows, unsure if he should be offended.
“What?” Pax says, still chuckling. “I like past you. However, since we are sharing, I think you should know that it’s almost certainly not that simple for me.
I recognize that you used that word flippantly, but it’s possible that I’m a bit more of an addict than you are.
It’s been a very long time since I’ve been put in a position where I had to really consider whether that is the case, and I’m not entirely sure I don’t resent it. ”
“Oh, shit, Pax — I’m such a dick. I wasn’t trying to be flip. Or like, trivialize your—”
Paxton waves his free hand dismissively while simultaneously squeezing the one still twisted in Blake’s. He appears virtually unbothered as he lifts his head to look out over the water. Relieved, Blake clamps his mouth shut before he can say something stupider.
After a moment of listening to the waves, Paxton keeps talking. “I only said that so you’d understand what you’re getting into, asking to be my ‘friend,’ and in trying to get to know me. It’s very possible you won’t like what you find.”
For the first time, Blake can see Paxton waver, can see a hint of insecurity and uncertainty simmering just below his easygoing, “nothing bothers me” exterior.
Honestly, it only drives the fishing hook Blake’s bitten into his cheek more firmly home, makes him that much surer that Pax is the real deal.
That he’s worth stepping out on a limb for.
“I like what I see so far,” Blake offers, hopeful.
“And hell, if we try and fail, then we’re both in hot water together.
I don’t wanna be unclear — Pax, part of me wants to follow the rules.
But I also want to fuck you. Like, six ways ’til Sunday and every way I know how to do it.
Maybe figure out some new ways. How I figure it, worst comes to worst, we walk off this beach broke and with a bunch of really angry co-stars gunning for our heads.
So if you want to have sex, Pax, I’m up for it.
I just don’t want to fuck up whatever self-rehab you have going for you. ”
Throwing his head back, Paxton laughs loudly, a ridiculously contagious sound that makes Blake want to coax out another, and another.
Blake can’t help but chuckle around a breath before clearing his throat and speaking again.
“When I say I wanna break the rules with you, kiss you, do whatever else you wanna do — you know, I’m just talking, Pax. Like you said, there’s no pressure.”
When Paxton gets his giggles under control, he leans in and touches Blake’s face. “From where I’m sitting, it seems very obvious that you’re worth the risk.”
They’re so damn close, and Blake wasn’t lying when he said he wants Pax, wants him badly.
He feels his body stirring to life, feels his lips almost tingling with the desire to press against Pax’s again.
It’s worse than not knowing, because they did get to make out and Blake knows how good Pax feels.
Knows what a freaking awesome kisser he is, knows how the spark that’s between them goes haywire and turns into full-blown fireworks when they touch.
“Fuck,” he says softly, almost able to feel the way Pax’s breath hitches in his chest, less than an arm’s length away. “How expensive could a kiss be?”
“Almost certainly not enough to deter me,” Paxton replies, nearly against Blake’s lips. “You?”
“Never been much for money,” Blake manages, before closing the space between them, nearly falling into Paxton as he captures his plush mouth.
Maybe it’s because it’s forbidden, or maybe it has something to do with their little share and care session, but this kiss is even better than their make-out moment the night before.
And Blake is stone-cold sober; he knows this indiscretion is unlikely to lead to more and still, he’d stick it firmly in his top ten kisses ever.
They get their damn money’s worth out of it. Pax is gentle but demanding, licking into Blake’s mouth and coaxing him to respond in kind. He caresses Blake’s face, undulating his body against Blake’s chest. Before Blake even realizes what’s happening, Pax has him on his back in the sand.
But it’s Pax that pulls away, too. He kisses Blake softly a few times and then draws back, dragging his thumb reluctantly over Blake’s lip as he goes.
“Just so you know, this is essentially unprecedented,” Paxton says, like Blake’s not hard in his pants and ready to go wherever the fuck Pax wants to take them.
Why are they stopping? “At the risk of making a fool of myself, I think I want to try and follow the rules. Not for any… sex addict reasons, but for you.”
“Me?” Blake echoes, still a little hazy and now with sand in his hair and blue balls in his pants.
“You did say—” Paxton’s face drops, and he looks somewhat alarmed, like he thinks he’s misread the signals and shit, Blake is being a dick again.
“No, right,” he says hastily, sitting up and scooting close to Pax again so that their thighs are touching.
“You’re right. And I want to, too. But, um…
” Blake looks down and not-so-discretely rearranges what’s in his shorts.
“We’re gonna need some way to burn this energy off so we don’t lose our minds.
” Blake grins as he looks up, pulling his t-shirt over his head before grabbing Paxton’s hand again and yanking him to his feet.
“Race you to the buoys,” he yells, nodding towards the ocean before taking off and running headlong into the Gulf with glee.
What follows is the best workout of Blake’s life.
Although, that is coming from someone who considers having to walk to the liquor store three blocks over because he’s out and already drunk as exercising, but still.
He and Paxton chase each other through the water, racing and cheating by pulling the other under by their legs.
Blake even climbs onto Paxton’s back and hitches a ride at one point.
They splash and laugh and play the stupidest game of Marco Polo until Blake’s muscles burn, he’s breathing hard, and he can barely keep his head above the gentle waves.
It’s fun, and that might be the most surprising thing of all. It’s been a damn long time since Blake’s just had fun.
By the time they stagger their way out of the water, rinse off, change, and find their cast-mates lounging around the pool and in the kitchen, both the day and filming are well underway.
Blake pulls Rachel aside and asks what the plans are for the afternoon, if there are any more “surprises” coming.
At least according to her (however much she can be trusted — Blake’s guess?
Exactly zero), this is it. No plans, nothing on the “official” schedule.
Their instructions are to hang out, talk to their cast-mates, get to know each other. Don’t kiss, don’t have sex.
Well, two outta three ain’t bad.
Of course, Rachel has to make Blake regret engaging with her at all when he tries to make his escape (after first grabbing a breakfast sandwich from the picked-over tray someone laid out).
“Not so fast,” she says, fingers closing around his wrist in a way that leaves Blake chasing his own hand to get the food into his mouth. That’s attractive.
Undaunted by Blake’s lack of table manners and his determined efforts to get the entire sandwich in his mouth in less than three bites, Rachel drags him towards the confessional. “Spill about your little beach date with the hot-mess express,” she demands, holding back the curtain pointedly.
“Don’t talk about him like that,” Blake protests, though because of the sandwich, it comes out more garbled nonsense and sprayed food than the gallant defense he was going for.