“Thanks for joining us tonight, Justin!” she said brightly. “We’ll let you get back to that vacation and some well-deserved privacy!”
Gray jumped to his feet, and the band blasted out a quick song while Jameson exited the stage. As soon as he got into the small lounging room, he let out a shaky breath.
Fuck, did Gray ever want to touch him. His blood was pumping, and his whole body ached with the need to wrap Jameson in his embrace and drag his lips along his boyfriend’s sweet neck.
Instead, he kept his arms neatly folded behind his back and only allowed himself to step another foot closer. “You were amazing, beautiful. You couldn’t have done it better.”
Jameson went to the fridge, then pulled out a tiny bottle of vodka. “I did it,” he said, then twisted the lid off the bottle and threw half of it back with a wince. “Wow. I really did it.”
Gray arched his eyebrows, then straightened his suit. “And that means we’re much closer to getting back to the hotel.”
Jameson laughed, then threw back the rest of the vodka. He was still in Justin Sweet mode, and Gray chuckled at how forced the movement looked to him now, like it was obviously fake. “I’ll have to do drinks with Cynthia and a little press. It’s like I said—this doesn’t mean I get to retire. Justin Sweet’s coming out is going to take more time to manage than my retirement took, not less. But it gives me a story that I can control, and that gives us the cover we need to do our own thing.” He turned to Gray, light shining in his eyes. “Thank you again for doing this with me.”
Gray cracked his knuckles. “Raiden’s going to love being on television, even if his face is blurred out.”
“He’s a perfect decoy. You two look so different.” He smiled softly at Gray, then tossed the empty vodka bottle into a small trash can. “I know it’s not ideal, just standing around while I do stuff like this. But if people believe he’s my boyfriend, no one will guess that I’m actually in love with my bodyguard. And the rest of the time, when we’re with the people we care about, you and I can be ourselves.”
“And they’ll never get to have Jameson. They’ll never get the real you or the real me,” Gray said. It felt extremely satisfying, that Gray himself could be one of those things Jameson wanted to protect.
“The real us,” Jameson smiled.
“Exactly,” Gray agreed. “Plus, it’s like you said, we don’t have to hide all the time. Just the once or twice a year you make a media appearance. It’s the rest of the time that really matters anyway. Family time, friend time, date time…” He licked his tongue across his teeth, and wished again that he could pull Jameson into a kiss. “Sexy time.”
Jameson giggled. “I’m pretty sure I can do anything if you do it with me,” he said softly.
“Tell you what, beautiful,” Gray said. “Keep smiling at me with those eyes, and it’s a deal.”
Jameson blushed, then pulled his expression back together. “Anyway, Raiden might luck out. If people ever get suspicious, and especially if they start suspecting something between you and me, we’ll leak some more blurry photos of him. He could be a Hollywood legend by the end of this.”
Gray laughed. “I’m sure he won’t complain.” On the wall across from him, the credits started to roll across the television screen, and the band played up again. “You ready to go shake some hands?”
Jameson let out a puff of breath. “I can’t believe I’m finally out of the closet in Hollywood. I know it’s not the same as it used to be, but still, some people are going to be assholes about it.”
“If anything happens, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”
“I know you will, Gray. That’s why all of this is possible.”
Jameson
In an overpriced hotel in Chelsea,after the show and the cocktails and everything had wrapped up, Jameson was surprised to feel a new kind of pleasure with Gray.
With the two of them, he was used to going fast and always running ahead with pounding hearts. For the past weeks, the point had been to get away and speed into some future together.
But now, Jameson was making Gray wait, and that was a new kind of exciting. He stood naked in front of the big bathroom mirror, slowly and luxuriously applying his makeup for the evening. He pursed his metallic blue lips and lengthened his eyelashes with stroke after stroke from the mascara, and he brushed a soft glimmer over his cheeks. He took as much pleasure as he could in every touch, and when he was almost done, he dusted a little shimmer across his butt cheeks, too.
Jameson giggled. Something about knowing Gray was sitting out there, hard and desperate to see him, made him electric with desire. Finally, he went to his bag and pulled out the last touch: a pair of thin cotton briefs that sat on him like a pair of panties.
He slipped into the briefs and ran his hands along his curves. He was just beginning to explore what it meant to enjoy feeling femme in bed. And even though playing with makeup had always been freeing, back when he was so often home by himself, Jameson had never quite bridged that gap and played with what that meant for him sexually.
A shudder went down Jameson’s back. He looked good in the mirror. Real fucking good. And as soon as he stepped out that door, Gray was going to lose his mind for all the right reasons. Just like always, he would see Jameson the way he saw himself. Strong and delicate at the same time, nervous but eager to relax.
Lovable, Jameson hoped. Just like Gray was.
He stepped out into the hotel room, and just like he expected, Gray sat up like a bolt on the loveseat, then jumped to his feet. The room was split into three levels, and Gray was down in the middle, at the lowest level. Around them, a stylist had done the space with an impeccable eye for sophisticated flare, with lush curtains, sprawling rugs, and delicate glass lights hanging from the ceiling. In the Tom Ford suit Jameson had ordered for him, Gray was handsome as a devil.
Jameson held his hands behind his back, then turned, perking his butt up. “Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“You fucking kidding me? You come out looking like that, you take all the time you need.”
