21. I don’t have a wikipedia
I don’t have a wikipedia
Colby felt like he was dreaming, having Hunter here, in the flesh.
He looked… different somehow. Colby couldn’t put his finger on it.
His hair was longer, maybe? He had definitely bulked up a bit.
His chest seemed wider. He walked side by side with Colby, and Colby realized he seemed taller, too, but it was because of his boots.
Colby wondered, self-consciously, if Hunter thought Colby looked better than he remembered. God, he fucking hoped so.
“Where do you want to go?” Colby asked as the snow on the sidewalk crunched underneath their feet. He pulled a beanie on over his head because not having hair was cold. “It’s your city. Do you have a favorite hangout?”
Hunter considered the question. His dark eyes darted to Colby and then to the sidewalk. “I haven’t lived here in over half a decade. I used to hang out at Peel Pub or Winnies but…”
Say it. Say it. Say it, Colby’s brain pleaded.
“Holy shit!”
The voice came from Colby’s left. Both he and Hunter turned to see two women, probably in their early twenties. Neither was in a coat, but both held lit cigarettes and stunned expressions. “Are…you…”
“You’re Colby Keaton,” the other woman said with awe in her tone. Colby nodded. “We fucking love you.”
“Thanks.” Colby had had this happen a few times, and it always felt like an out-of-body experience. “I appreciate it.”
“Your song… ‘Uncomplicated Ending’ is my anthem for life,” the first girl gushed. “I want it played at my funeral.”
“Dark, but I respect it,” Hunter murmured.
Colby fought a chuckle. “This is Hunter. He’s an actor.”
“Cool. What can I see you in?” the taller of the two asked.
“Nothing yet.”
“He’s got a movie coming out called Platonic Planet. You’ll love it.”
“Can we get a—”
“Gimme your phone I’ll take it for you guys,” Hunter told her, extending his hand.
Colby could tell he just wanted to change the subject.
He wondered if Hunter still had imposter syndrome.
Colby got it sometimes too, so he understood.
There was so damn much that they just inherently understood about each other.
This was why Colby missed him with a relentless ache in his chest. All the time.
Hunter snapped a couple of pictures while the girls sandwiched Colby with beaming smiles.
Colby thanked them again and told them to get back in and catch Hannah’s set before they froze to death.
They obliged but not without throwing out more praise like, “you’re so amazing” and “I can’t wait to see you headline a tour. ”
Once they left, he turned back to Hunter. “Sorry. Where were we?”
“Don’t be sorry. That was the coolest thing ever,” Hunter replied and grinned.
“That’ll be you one day too,” Colby said, and Hunter just shrugged. “Where are we going?”
“It’s cold, and I’ve spent too much time with… other people,” Hunter explained with a flash of the most vulnerable, sheepish smile. “I don’t know if a bar is my thing tonight.”
“Do you just want to spend time with me?” Colby asked it because he hoped for it.
Hunter looked down, his black hair tumbling across his forehead. “Yeah. Badly.”
“My hotel is this way,” Colby said, pointing east, and turned so abruptly in the snow he almost slipped.
Colby’s hotel was a three-star boutique thing in the Old Port district of Montreal.
The room was tiny, but nice and clean with teak furniture.
Colby’s suitcase was open, with clothes spilling out of it, at the foot of the queen-sized bed.
When Hunter glanced into the bathroom, he saw a counter full of hair products and skin care items, which felt off because Colby’s only skincare back in their West Hollywood apartment had been water, soap, and sunblock.
Hunter smiled at him. “How do you have so many hair products when you don’t have a ton of hair anymore?
And what’s with the forty bottles of face stuff? ”
Colby smiled sheepishly. “I can’t figure out how to make my hair look cool. Hannah got me into Korean skincare. It’s a whole ordeal, but I haven’t had a zit in weeks, and my pores are non-existent.”
“Thank God, your pores were so big I thought they should have paid rent,” Hunter snarked, and Colby laughed and flipped him a middle finger. Hunter smiled at Colby as he leaned on the frame of the bathroom door because he didn’t know what else to do. “Since when do you aspire to coolness?”
“Since Trevor has effortlessly hot hair according to social media and Kenner has been dubbed the band’s sexy bitch.”
Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “And you care? The dude who basically had to be bullied into an Instagram account.”
“No, but the label cares.”
Hunter was sure Ford cared too, but he didn’t add that to the conversation. He didn’t want to even acknowledge Ford’s existence right now. “And what name have they branded you with?”
“Baby girl. Sunshine. The cute one. The puppy,” Colby muttered like he was repeating harsh insults, and Hunter laughed. “Shut up.”
He kept laughing, and Colby grew frustrated, then shrugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. He slipped out of his shoes, too. “I’m glad my uncool, childlike social media aura is hilarious.”
“Aura?” Hunter repeated and shook his head. “Who are you and what have you done with my unaffected and blissfully ignorant roommate?”
Colby paused as if he were actually thinking about that rhetorical question. But he didn’t respond. Instead, he tilted his chin at Hunter. “You gonna stay a while?” Hunter nodded. “Then lose the coat. And shoes.”
Dutifully, Hunter unbuttoned his coat and slipped out of it. He walked by Colby to drape it over the small armchair in the corner by the window, but Colby hooked his arm as he passed. Hunter turned his head so he and Colby were staring at each other over their shoulders.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Colby confessed, his voice low and soft.
“Me too.”
“I want to kiss you,” Colby whispered, like it was a dirty little secret.
“Nobody’s stopping you.”
It was crazy and insane, but it was a truth Hunter felt in his soul.
Hunter wanted Colby to kiss him right now because he wanted to kiss Colby back.
What the hell that meant was complicated and terrifying.
Hunter’s brain was tripping over a thousand different deep thoughts about his life, his sexuality, everything he thought he knew about himself as he turned to face his best friend, and Colby closed the distance between them.
It was one thing to vaguely accept the concept of liking men.
It was an entirely other thing to crave one with every part of your being.
This kiss, craving it, inviting it, felt like an acceptance of a new version of himself. One he wasn’t allowed to be.
Suddenly they were chest-to-chest. Colby tilted his pretty little head and leaned into Hunter, who didn’t pull back.
He just closed his eyes. Colby’s lips ghosted Hunter’s, a chaste, soft brush.
And then, more firmly, they pressed against Hunter’s lips and…
everything shifted. Hunter’s entire plane of existence was suddenly new, uncharted, but very, very inviting… welcoming. It felt like he was home.
Hunter cupped the back of Colby’s head, and he opened his mouth just enough to offer an invitation, which Colby accepted.
Colby’s tongue pressed against Hunter’s and his cock jerked in response behind his fly.
God,fuck, Colby’s lips were as soft as they looked, Hunter realized, and he felt relief.
The whole fucking kiss felt like relief.
Like he’d been holding something heavy on his back forever, but it was suddenly gone.
Colby was a feral kisser, wild and dominant, which was weird because Hunter always thought of him as mellow and almost shy.
Turned out Colby Keaton was a gentle spirit with a slutty mouth.
Colby pulled back from the kiss, sucking hard on Hunter’s bottom lip as he did, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh, and Hunter was on fire from the inside out.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Colb,” he hissed when he got his lip back. He could barely open his eyes enough to look into Colby’s, but he tried. “Do it again.”
Colby smiled and then claimed Hunter’s mouth once more.
They made out, standing in the middle of that petite hotel room until their lips were swollen and their skin chaffed from each other’s stubble.
It was like nothing Hunter had ever experienced.
And not a single second of it was weird, awkward, or insane.
Even though the whole fucking thing, on paper, was nuts.
Finally, as Colby’s mouth moved to Hunter’s jaw, Hunter whispered, “Are you as hard as I am?”
“Harder,” Colby panted against the shell of Hunter’s ear.
“Liar.”
“Grab it. Find out for yourself.”
“You’d like that.”
Colby’s laugh danced across Hunter’s cheek. “More than fucking anything.”
Hunter laughed too and palmed the front of Colby’s jeans. “Fuck. Yeah, okay. You win.”
Colby mimicked the action and pressed his hand to the front of Hunter’s pants. “I’d call it a draw.”
Hunter angled his mouth over Colby’s again. God, kissing him was so fucking good. Why? How? He loved kissing, in general. And he’d had some great ones with women. This was… like that but with a dude. His best friend. Maybe that’s what made it hot? That they were each other’s closest friend.
“Let’s get naked and suck each other off,” Colby suggested.
Hunter started undoing Colby’s fly.
Moments later, Colby tumbled onto the bed, trying to get his pants off his ankles. Hunter dropped down beside him, completely naked, and laughed as Colby struggled. “Don’t laugh, help!”
Hunter propped himself up on his elbow and wrapped a hand around Colby’s dick. It was leaking, and so hard it looked painful. He gave it a stroke, and Colby swore under his breath. “Not helping.”
“So I should stop?”