Chapter 2 #5
“So,” Paxton continues, as he sits back down and rests a hand casually on Blake’s blanket-covered thigh like he’s not temptation personified. “Would you be at all opposed to me sharing your bed?”
“Uh—” Blake starts, glancing around to see if anyone is else is watching, but his fellow cast-mates all seem to be bunked down for the night, involved in their own conversations.
Some of which are occurring underneath blankets, and Blake feels mightily suspicious about all that.
How the hell will Ava even know if the rules are broken?
! From where he’s sitting, there’s not a single person resting in their own bed, and in a group of self-confessed sex lovers, it’s hard to imagine no one’s urges will lead to something more.
Still, sure as hell looks like sleeping in the same bed is fully on the “green means go” activities menu here at the Retreat, so who is Blake to pass that up?
He scoots over and shoots Paxton a sunny smile.
“Guess not, since everybody else is doing it. And by that I mean, get the fuck in here, sunshine.”
Paxton slides under the covers and tugs at Blake’s hip until he rolls onto his side.
That leaves them facing each other, heads on the same pillow.
Beneath the sheets, their legs are tangled, but they’re not exactly cuddling.
Pax’s hand slides over Blake’s bare skin; down his side, over his thigh, up his arm, and Blake has no clue whether he’s teasing or just touching.
His breath stutters a little, eyes closing involuntarily as Paxton’s hand drifts over his cheek and down his neck — maybe Blake hasn’t paid enough attention to how starved he is for this kind of contact.
It’s true, he realizes, that physical affection outside of sex isn’t something he gets.
And how often do one-night-stands and hookups bother to be gentle, or to touch beyond the goal of getting off at all?
Despite all his posturing, Blake’s always been the kind of guy who wants to cuddle, but won’t ever ask for it.
Now that it’s their only option, though, somehow, that feels safer.
“Weird night,” he says softly, into the space between his and Paxton’s faces, just to deflect from the tension and the rising emotions inside of his own head.
“Hmm,” Paxton replies, glancing up to Blake’s eyes and then back down at his own hand, tracing patterns over Blake’s chest. He has no idea how Blake’s heart is clenching inside of it at the very thought that Paxton might not even stick around, now that the rules have changed.
“What, they a dealbreaker for you? Listen man, I get it,” Blake preempts, trying to sound like he’s commiserating and not pouting. “You came here to party and hook up. No hard feelings if you’re just looking for a warm body tonight and wanna bail tomorrow. God knows I got no room to talk.”
The surprise on Paxton’s face isn’t something Blake was expecting, but it makes him hopeful.
Pax keeps his eyes trained on where his fingers travel, but his voice is not nearly as steady as it has been.
“I fear that I would be exposing myself in a very transparent way if I were to admit that I’m not disappointed that we are being discouraged from sharing sexual intimacy. ”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Pax affirms with a nod and a small smile.
“I mean, I live to break the rules, Pax, you should know that about me.”
Paxton’s smile widens, and Blake warms. “I’m not opposed,” he says carefully, his tone curiously measured. “If that is all you want.”
“All I — whoa, hey, we were talking about you, here. Not me. I’m just saying, I kinda thought you’d be on the first boat out of here tomorrow.”
Still focused on Blake’s chest and the quickly-fading trails his fingernails leave behind there, Paxton shrugs (and Blake is not distracted by how adorable it is, because men in their thirties don’t find other men in their thirties “adorable”).
“I never said that. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.
” He lifts his eyes and pins Blake in place. “Have you?”
They’re just a breath apart, and Blake can’t remember when Pax scooted closer, but his stomach is pressed against Blake’s now and his hand has relocated to Blake’s back.
It’s intimate and arousing, and Blake can’t believe they can’t even fucking kiss.
This sucks. “Haven’t decided,” he echos, since his upstairs brain is no longer receiving the lion’s share of oxygenated blood at the moment.
“Perhaps,” Paxton says, his words ghosting over Blake’s lips and his palm spread firmly across Blake’s lower back, holding him close. “We should sleep on it.”
“Yeah,” Blake replies dizzily. Pax smells like cinnamon, just a hint, like he chewed a piece of gum or used some kind of scented body wash to clean up before coming to bed. Maybe his toothpaste is cinnamon, Blake wonders, wishing he could find out the good way, without having to ask.
“Wouldn’t want to do anything reckless.”
“Reckless?” Blake parrots, his eyes starting to become heavy without his consent. It really is nice to just lay in someone’s arms like this. Safe. Comforting.
“Mmhmm,” Paxton hums, clearly feeling the same pull to sleep as Blake. “But if you don't like, uh, ‘reckless’, I can use ‘insouciant’, maybe.”
“You’re weird, Pax,” Blake mumbles, wrapping his arms more tightly around the other man’s body and snuggling down so that his face is nearly in Pax’s hair. Watermelon, he notices. “You’re a weird, nerdy dude who likes orgies. But I dig it. You’re tough for a hippie, or whatever.”
“Not a hippie,” Paxton near-slurs, more or less into Blake’s collarbone. “Don’t label me.”
“Kay.” Blake stifles a yawn. “Well, whatever you are, I‘m glad you’re here.”
It’s quiet for a moment, save for the low murmurs of the other paired-off folks in the room. Blake is just about asleep when Paxton speaks up again. “Why do I feel like I know you, Blake? I don’t know the first thing about you. And yet—”
Beside him in the bed, Blake goes stock-still, but there’s only honest curiosity in Paxton’s voice, nothing else, save for maybe confusion.
So after a second, Blake relaxes and pulls his fingers through Pax’s hair, down to the nape of his neck.
“It’s not just you,” he admits. “Kinda thought I was losing it a little, honestly. I mean, maybe this is just what happens when you really wanna fuck someone and you know they want you too, but you don’t act on it?
Not like I would know, I don’t do self-denial.
When I want a drink, you’ll find one in my hand.
When I want sex, I go get it. The same goes for food or a fight. ”
Paxton hums and breathes against Blake’s skin, and Blake fights the urge to roll him over and test whether his theory holds water, once and for all. “So you’re saying you’re just well-adjusted?”
Blake snorts. “God no. I’m just well-fed.”
Even without being able to see his face, Pax’s smile is impossible to miss. Blake can hear it in his voice, feel it against his skin. “In that case, perhaps we should explore Ava’s proposition after all. Find out if there is any part of you that isn’t, uh, full.”
“Only if we can ditch this metaphor,” Blake replies, and Paxton just laughs.