Chapter Seven Los Angeles
Piper arrived first. He always did. Lighting rigs, black backdrop, concrete floor, photographer already moving between equipment with restless energy.
“Hey I’m Taylor, nice to meet you Piper, I work on the marketing team. We really appreciate you signing on to this, it’s gonna be fire,” he said, seemingly coming out of nowhere and pouncing on Piper.
“Nice to meet you too, Taylor. The lions are quite the touch,” Piper replied.
“Ya, kind of extra, but who doesn’t like extra, right?” Taylor laughed as Piper nodded his head and smirked.
The wardrobe assistant landed next and handed him the campaign look without making eye contact, which he appreciated, because Piper hated small talk and Taylor spent thirty seconds depleting his quota for the day.
He changed quickly into animal print boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination.
When he stepped onto the set, the photographer looked at him for two seconds.
“Damn. That body is doing its thing,” he said as he looked Piper up and down. Joan, this fucking pervert better not test me.
Piper rolled his eyes knowing if he said what he wanted to say, Joan might leave him, and he hit his mark.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
He moved with the precision he used on the field.
His chin up, no smile, jaw on point, shoulders back.
Every motion deliberate. An assistant applied oil to his shoulders and chest. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, the photographer was leering at him like a dog with rabies.
“Good, you're doing great,” the photographer muttered. “Don’t think. Just be beautiful for me.”
He was thinking. He never stopped thinking. His layered thoughts often got the better of him. Just do what you are told like you always do. Be a good boy like they want you to be, Piper thought as he changed positions.
The studio doors opened.
The room stopped. Piper felt it before he turned around.
Noah Reyes strutted across the concrete floor without urgency.
He was wearing dark jeans with a shirt hugging his chest and biceps that appeared one flex from splitting the seams. Hair slightly damp, as if he’d come straight from the shower.
An excess of David Yurman jewelry that he somehow got away with.
His eyes found Piper across the studio immediately. He smiled, then nodded.
“Ashton.”
“You’re late as fuck,” Piper said annoyed at Noah’s arrogance.
“Got pulled over for speeding.”
Piper didn’t believe him. Noah walked into rooms late because he wanted them to wait.
Noah glanced toward the wardrobe rack, then back.
“Nice setup, are these lions real taxidermy?”
“Do you really think PETA would allow that? Go fucking change,” Piper said.
“Noah, they are stuffed animals. Didn't the team make them look hyper-realistic?” Taylor said, looking up at Noah’s towering stature as his eyes zeroed in on his bulging arms and muscular chest etched through his t-shirt.
Taylor was in heaven at this moment. Two of the hottest quarterbacks in the league in his campaign.
Noah’s grin widened. “Got it. I gotta change before Piper stabs my eyes out with that stare.”
He was gone for twenty minutes. Piper shot two more setups while he was away. He didn’t watch the wardrobe area. He hit his marks and told himself today was a job.
Noah stepped back onto the set in a pair of animal print boxer briefs. Piper slowly turned his head Noah’s way like he was in some sort of slow-motion fantasy he saw in a movie. The outline of Noah’s cock noted and impressive.
That giant cock is going to need to be airbrushed out of these shots, Piper informed Joan, and returned his eyes to the photographer.
“Gentlemen,” the photographer said. “Face each other like you are each other’s prey.”
They did. The studio quieted when something was working. Piper held his posture. Noah held his gaze. The camera fired. Flash. Flash. Flash.
“Closer, keep selling this hunger!”
They stepped forward simultaneously.
The heat of the lights. The music the photographer had running at max volume now through the room, Sports Car by Tate McRae, the bass hit hard, filling the space like sex. Piper started sweating. Fuck dude, get it together, raced through his head.
“You nervous buddy?” Noah asked.
“No. Don’t call me buddy.”
“You’ve got the same face you had at the line of scrimmage in the fourth quarter.”
“That’s my face,” Piper replied.
“Then fix that face.”
Flash.
Flash.
“You know what most rivals don’t do?” Noah said.
“Talk this much half fucking naked?” Piper said.
“Look at each other like they’re either going to fight or fuck.”
The photographer dropped the camera an inch. “Yes. That. Keep doing what you are doing. Hold it.”
Flash. Flash. Flash.
Piper fought his cock from getting hard.
The photographer lowered the camera. “Closer. Fucking closer!”
Piper and Noah’s bodies were less than an inch apart and neither could quite take a solid breath.
“Okay let’s break, I need a cigarette!” the photographer said as he shoved his camera at his assistant, Ashley.
The lights dimmed slightly. Assistants moved equipment around the set. Noah and Piper headed toward the craft service area.
“You know we can’t eat anything on this table until this shoot is over.” Piper laughed.
“Sure do. You know I have never seen you laugh before,” Noah said as he looked deeply into Piper’s eyes.
“Don’t get used to it.”
They stood near the far wall with the only thing they could consume, water and air. The studio moved around them. Noah leaned in close to Piper.
“You signed before I did,” Noah said.
“I wasn’t aware of who signed first, and why does it fucking matter?” Piper replied.
“Carmen told me. I just thought you wouldn’t be the type of dude to do a shoot like this. Something this vulnerable is something a guy with sharp edges like you would say no to,” Noah replied, moving closer.
“Well I guess you don’t know me do you?”
Noah looked at him. Something less aggressive than the look across the field.
Joan, this dude is kind of hot, but I still hate him.
Piper's inner voice was wrestling with his outer self.
“Vivienne had to work for it,” Noah said. “I’m guessing.”
“That’s between me and Vivienne,” Piper replied as his hunger pangs increased from lack of food he was forbidden to eat pre-shoot.
“Sure.”
Piper looked at the set. The photographer was arguing with the crew about the lighting angle on the left rig.
Noah went quiet. Outside the studio the bass from the speakers rolled low across the floor.
“Ashley, make these guys fucking glisten!” the photographer yelled.
***
Piper walked back to the set. He stepped under the lights, squared his shoulders, finding his mark. The photographer raised the camera. The music rolled low through the space.
He looked past Noah.
Then their eyes connected. A moment of intensity neither of them knew what to do with.
Flash.
The photographer grinned. “Fucking perfect. You two are like a wet dream together.”
Piper and Noah looked at each other and broke out laughing.
“Fuck this dude,” Piper said under his breath as he stared into Noah’s eyes.
“Would you hate me if I punched the living shit out of this creep?” Noah mumbled under his breath.
Piper tried not to laugh as the photographer's anger started to show.
“Break! These two can’t stop laughing and I don’t have fucking time for this shit. Where is fucking Ashley?!” the photographer yelled.
Noah looked at Piper. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He nodded toward the back of the set.
Redbone by Childish Gambino was playing at a volume Piper could feel in his teeth. He walked past one of the taxidermy lions, mouth frozen open, teeth sharp and the bass landed somewhere deep in his cock. He pulled his robe tighter and hoped Noah didn’t notice.
Noah walked down a hallway at the back of the set as Piper followed. Piper was not thinking, just doing as he was told. Noah grabbed Piper’s hand and pushed open the restroom door.
It was empty as they stepped inside. Piper followed. The door shut. The room felt smaller immediately. Bright white tile. Industrial sink. The hum of the ventilation fan. Music pumping in like smooth thunder.
Piper’s hand found the lock before he consciously decided.
Click. What the fuck is going on? What am I doing? Piper finally let thoughts in but they came out like he was drunk on lust.
“Shit. Is this really happening?” Piper said out loud as his inner thought escaped him.
Noah didn’t answer, he just looked at Piper like he was the only boy in the world. A look foreign to Piper.
Then Noah approached and had him against the cold tile before the question landed. One hand on the side of Piper’s face, the other flat against the wall beside his head, caging him in. Piper’s back hit the wall with a dull thud, his hands coming up like he was going to push Noah off.
He didn’t.
His fingers gripped the front of Noah’s robe and pulled him closer.
Noah’s mouth found his. The kiss landed open and hungry, all heat and teeth, tongues at war with each other. Piper made a sound he hated immediately, low in his throat, half surrender. Noah swallowed it and pressed in harder.
Piper had been kissed in a thousand controlled ways. This was not one of them.
Stubble scraped Piper’s chin. The hand at Piper’s jaw slid back into his hair and tightened, and Piper’s whole body went tight with it.
He kissed back like he was angry. He probably was.
Noah bit his bottom lip and dragged it slowly between his teeth, and Piper felt his knees do something they had never done before in his life.
His body almost went limp as he released part of himself at that moment.
He should have shoved Noah off. He should have walked out and pretended none of this was happening.
Instead, he dragged Noah closer. He kept going and did not want this to stop.
Noah broke the kiss first.
“Tell me to stop.”
“I will destroy you if you stop, asshole,” Piper replied.
Noah kissed him again. Slower this time. Worse, somehow. The kind of kiss that meant something. Piper’s hand came up and gripped the back of Noah’s neck as his hips pressed forward, and Piper felt every inch of Noah’s hard cock against him.
The ventilation fan hummed. The fluorescent light buzzed. Somewhere outside the door, the photographer was screaming. “Where the fuck did those two go?!”
Noah pulled back. “Fuck, let’s tell them we had to call our agents in the meeting room past the men’s bathroom.”
His thumb dragged across Piper’s bottom lip, swollen and wet, and his eyes were dark.
“Clean up, Ashton. We’ve still got photos to shoot.”
Piper stood there for a moment, legs shaky, the cold tile against his back the only thing holding him up.
Joan we are fucked.