Neither of us says anything, and when he’s clean I push him out of the shower and wash myself. I look straight at the camera that’s been recording this whole time as I take myself back in hand. I don’t know how Magnus is going to edit this one, but when I come the second time, hissing his name, I’m not looking at the subs. I’m looking at him through that camera lens, and I hope he sees it when he watches this back.
Chapter 28
Magnus
I’m trying notto feel guilty about how much responsibility Trent has taken with this trip. I told him when I conned him into this project that I would take on all of the business aspects and all he would have to do is film. He’s kept up his part of our agreement admirably, but I’ve dropped the ball on mine. My mind churns with guilt about it as he leads us to an open top tourist bus that’s going to take us on a tour of the city before dropping us off at a pool party.
We spent the last few hours on the beach playing sand and water sports with other people in the LGBTQ+ spring break group he signed us up for, and it was surprisingly fun. There were two different people in our group who recognized us, which means we’re “on the clock,” so to speak, until we return to our hotel room at some point tonight.
I lean into him as we wait to board the bus, testing the boundaries of the PDA limits he already gave me. I know he said I could literally climb in his lap if I wanted to, but things said in the privacy of our room might not feel the same when we’re in front of others.
Of course, Trent is as steadfast as he’s always been and immediately puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me intoa cuddle even as he talks to the woman in our group who recognized us. They’re talking about the actuarial mathematics course they’re both taking this semester and lamenting their choices. I don’t think Trent needed the course for his degree, but he decided to take it for the experience of it, and I would be surprised if his grade is less than an A in it even if he hates it.
The woman smiles at me when I lean my head on Trent’s shoulder, which is one good reason that I snuggle in, but I don’t think the only reason I’m cuddling him right now is because we’re supposed to be presenting as guys who don’t know they like each other. I really do need the touch, and since I’m thinking about it and we have a minute before we have to board the bus, I pull my phone out of Trent’s pocket and pull up the text thread with my on-again-off-again therapist. She saw me every week until I was nineteen, and once the terms of the agreement my parents made with my professor guardians were met, she agreed to see me as needed.
Me:Alicia, I would like to make an appointment as soon as possible.
I don’t expect her to get back to me right away, but I must've caught her between clients, because she immediately texts back.
Alicia:I have an opening next Thursday at 11.
Me:I’ll take it. Thank you.
It conflicts with one of my classes, but I’ll have my TA do the presentation, and it’ll be fine.
Alicia:I have you in my calendar for Thursday at 11.
I send her a confirmation and shove my phone back into Trent’s pocket just as he moves us forward to begin to board the bus. He pushes me ahead of him, leaning in to murmur in my ear, “Let’s go topside.”
I lead us up the steps to the top deck and pick a two seater bench near the front, sliding in. Trent sits next to me, resting his arm on the back of my seat. For some reason my stomachchurns again, but my discomfort must show on my face because Trent leans in close, cuddling me again, and that helps me relax enough to ignore the discomfort.
“I don’t know what it is about this place, but I’m having a hard time relaxing,” I explain quietly. “I suppose I feel guilty about not being in charge of the itinerary like I said I would be,” I add, leaning against Trent’s chest as much as possible.
“Don’t. I enjoyed planning our trip. Me and a few of the others got to know each other before we even got here, and I like making friends. Don’t feel guilty about that. It was fun, and it’s going to keep being fun all week.” He kisses my hair. “Love you.”
I smile at his simple words and let my guilt go. If he enjoyed the planning and execution, then I’m glad he got to do it. “Do you think you’re going to want to plan future trips, too, or was this a one-time enjoyable thing for you?”
Trent’s smile tickles the hair atop my head and he presses his nose into my ear, snickering softly. “Are you asking me to be in charge of all future trips? You don’t even know if this one’s going to go to plan. We already started off badly; what if the rest is as much of a disaster as the beginning?”
I scoff, snorting softly and shaking my head. “I’m pretty sure I booked the flights, so you can’t be held responsible for that.”
He chuckles softly as the bus starts rolling and the tour guide starts speaking in a lovely mix of Spanish and English that delights me to hear. We spend the entire bus tour listening to the funny, light-hearted tour guide and cuddling close as we look out at the sights of the city, ending up in a famous hotel zone where we’re encouraged to sample the tequila and chocolate, do some shopping, and check out the place where we’re supposed to meet for our pool party.
Trent leads us to a little cart where tequila shots are being served and buys one each for us. The group of us who’re following Trent’s lead includes our two fans and their sevenfriends. Once everyone gets their shots, Trent picks up my hand–the one holding my shot—watching me with gray eyes full of mischief. He slowly licks the back of my hand, which makes my mouth water for some reason, and I swallow the excess saliva as I watch him pour salt on my damp skin.
With a smirk, he sets a wedge of lime next to the salt and rumbles softly, “Arriba.”
He licks the salt off my hand, takes the shot out of my fingers and downs it, following that with biting the wedge of lime.
“Fuck,” I whisper, swallowing in order to prevent drooling. “You’re the sexiest man I know,” I tell him, fully aroused by what he just did. I think I’ve definitely accidentally created a Pavlovian reaction to him with this experiment.
Trent smirks at me, tossing the shot cup into the trash and holding up the other one he bought for me. “Your turn.”
Well, since we’re putting on a show, I lick the back of his hand, tasting the saltiness of his skin, then I shake salt onto him, too, before adding the wedge of lime. “I’ve never done this,” I tell him, before licking the salt off.
I drain the tequila into my mouth and swallow, surprised at how smooth the liquor goes down, then Trent holds the lime out to me and I bite into it. Wow. That’s really good. It’s not overly sour, as I expected.
“That’s really good,” I murmur as Trent tosses our trash.
