Chapter 17 #2
Owen laughed, then took another drink. “The second evening we shared a table with two lovely blokes called Adam and Gray. Adam was British, Gray from the US. We assumed they were a couple, and they were great company. You know, your average, normal gay couple. Funny, intelligent… We talked about restaurants, sightseeing, everything, really—except what they did for a living.” He paused.
“The next morning Ben suggested we walk around the grounds before breakfast.” He paused.
“We rounded one corner, and found a couple of guys acting in a… very energetic manner.”
Matt’s eyebrows shot up again. “They were…?”
“Oh yes. And on a lounger, no less. What made it even more interesting was that Gray was standing at the arse end of the guy topping, holding what looked like a reflector, and Adam was filming the whole process. In fact, he lay on his back, aiming his camera up at… well, you get the picture.”
Matt burst out laughing. “No!”
“Oh yes. We froze. They froze. Then Adam stopped filming, smiled brightly, and said, ‘Morning, boys!’”
Matt was laughing too hard to speak. When he finally got control of himself, he managed to get out, “What did Ben do?”
“He whispered, ‘I think we’ve taken a wrong turning,’ spun round…” Owen demonstrated the manoeuvre with his hand. “…and walked straight into a palm tree.”
Matt laughed so loudly the occupants of two nearby tables glanced over before smiling to themselves. “Was he all right?”
“He had a lump on his forehead the size of a golf ball.”
Matt almost choked on his daiquiri. “You’re making that up.”
“I promise you I’m not.”
“And after that?”
Owen grinned. “We became extremely careful about wandering off the marked paths.” When they both stopped laughing, he smiled.
“The really funny thing? I ran into them just after I moved to Winchester. Turns out they moved to the UK, they’re living in Andover, they’re married—but that feels like a story in itself—and they’re still shooting porn.
” He gazed at Matt. “And you’ll get to meet them. I’ve invited them to the party.”
Matt’s breathing hitched. “Which party?”
He chuckled. “The one your parents definitely don’t get an invite to.”
Seeing Matt’s parted lips and wide eyes solidified Owen’s decision to invite him.
“What do you have planned for tomorrow?”
Owen leaned back. “During the day, you get to choose. But tomorrow night, we’re off to see a show. And no, I’m not telling you which one. I’m just going to say you’ll love it.”
The pianist drifted into another jazz standard, the melody floating lazily through the bar.
Matt sat back in the deep leather chair, nursing the last of his daiquiri. “You know, this has been one of the strangest days I’ve ever had.”
“The reunion?”
Matt chuckled as he gestured around the bar. “And this. Earlier today I was wandering around Kew Gardens with my boss, and now I’m drinking cocktails in the Savoy while you tell me about accidentally interrupting porn shoots.”
Owen laughed. “When you put it like that, it does sound rather ridiculous.”
That comfortable silence was back.
Matt watched the pianist. “I think I needed this. Not the reunion, but this whole day. Kew, afternoon tea, cocktails… I’ve never done anything like this, and it’s been great.”
Owen regarded him for a moment. “I’m glad.” The waiter appeared beside the table, and Owen gave Matt an inquiring glance. “Another round?”
Matt laughed. “On top of all the champagne? I think if I have another one, you’ll be carrying me upstairs.”
Owen grinned. “And while that might provide the staff with a memorable evening, I’d rather not become part of Savoy folklore.” He settled the bill instead. They stood, and Owen slipped his wallet back into his jacket. “This place has a way of making the rest of the world wait outside for a while.”
Matt nodded. “I think that’s exactly what today needed.”
“And tomorrow night… we get to do it all over again.”
The bedroom was quiet, although not silent. There was the faint hum of the hotel’s air conditioning, the occasional siren from beyond the window, and the quiet creak of the sofa as Owen turned over.
Matt stared into the darkness. Sleep refused to come, even when he kept his eyes tight shut.
That only made it worse.
The last few days unspooled behind his eyelids. Owen climbing effortlessly from the pool, sunlight catching on wet skin.
Matt opened his eyes again.
Don’t.
He rolled onto his side. That didn’t help either. His mind skipped off to the afternoon in the garden, their fingers brushing over the bottle of water, Owen stepping back almost too quickly.
The paving slabs. ‘Because you came with muscles’. Owen correcting himself so fast he’d almost tied his tongue in knots.
He was flustered. Because of me.
That thought refused to leave.
Matt knew he wasn’t imagining it anymore. He’d tested it, more than once.
Sometimes Owen noticed him. Then he lost his composure for a heartbeat.
Matt had discovered seeing the tiny cracks in the normally so certain, so self-contained Owen fascinated him.
He turned onto his back again, the crisp hotel sheet brushing against bare skin. He became aware of his own body, his heartbeat, his breathing. The warmth trapped beneath the duvet.
Matt let out a long sigh. Maybe this was simply biology.
Maybe after everything that had happened over the last few days, his brain needed somewhere to put all the thoughts that refused to settle. He’d hardly be the first person to clear his head before trying to sleep.
He closed his eyes, sliding his hand beneath the cotton, beneath the waistband of his shorts, to curl it around a dick that also seemed to be suffering from insomnia.
Matt gave several slow tugs, conscious of it filling his palm even more.
His breathing caught, and he pushed up with his hips, settling into a rhythm.
He kicked off the duvet, removed the shorts, and planted his feet on the mattress, hips in motion, keeping the movement leisurely, aiming to let the intensity build.
Creak. Creak.
His skin prickled, and he froze, heart pounding.
Owen stood motionless in the doorway. The dim light spilling in from the sitting room caught the outline beneath his shorts.
Matt noticed it in an instant. Then he noticed something else.
Owen was backing away.
Confusion flooded through him. Why is he leaving? That hard-on told Matt plenty.
A breath later, everything clicked into place.
The awkward moments by the pool, the glances, the flustered smiles. The way Owen always seemed to find an excuse to put another step between them.
Why the hell didn’t I see this?
Owen’s hesitation, his careful boundaries… That was him trying to protect both of them. Matt had never been surer of anything.
And Owen was retreating again.
Matt blurted out the only word in his head.
“Don’t.”