Chapter 21: 21. Action!

Keith

The scene in my novel I’ve been poring over doesn’t work, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it misses conflict, tension… something. With a sigh, I jot down a note to rework it later if I have the time. I decided to spend the time waiting between takes productively and work on my novel, which is getting more frustrating by the second. Hidden behind a stack of chairs and a catering table, I prop my head with my hand and stare at the screen. Who knows? A solution might appear out of thin air if I glower hard enough.

Shiro said we all need hobbies, but more and more, this seems like a waste of time that no one will ever appreciate. People have certain expectations of me, chiefly being a pretty face and hot body, but being an author? Not so much. Not unless I publish a dirty scoop on Hollywood’s underbelly. Which I could do, even though I mostly keep my nose clean, do my job, and schmooze the higher-ups at the bare minimum necessary for success in this business. 

“What are you working on?” 

The smooth voice slides over me like a caress, and I have to fight the shiver that threatens to rattle my entire body.

Dammit, Kogane, you should be used to Shiro by now. 

Used to his presence. His touch. His smell. 

Yet every time I see or hear him, it’s a fresh assault on my senses. As much as I’d like to grow some sort of immunity, it hasn’t happened yet. I can only hope the constant stream of scenes we do together will work as exposure therapy and render me numb one of these days. At least we powered through the initial awkwardness and improved our interactions so much that even Mike occasionally spares our scenes a word of praise. From him, that equals roaring applause. Standing ovation while chanting our names. It also means that channeling my crush on Shiro into my performance proved an excellent decision. Leaving those feelings on set after each day is a struggle, but I’m trying so hard that if I try any harder, my determination will turn into diamonds. Or my dick will. One or the other.

“Something amusing?” Shiro asks, voice tinged with laughter as he drops onto the chair next to me, probably noticing the smirk curling my lips. He’s wearing his costume, and the tight clothes encase every line of his muscle. My mouth waters a little, so I angle away from him to remove any temptation to straddle him.

“Frustrating is more like it.” You frustrate me. Mostly because I want to coil myself around you like a fucking boa constrictor ever since our near kiss in my trailer.

“Can’t get this thing to work.” 

“Hm. May I?”

With my mind elsewhere, I nod, and he leans over my shoulder to stare into my laptop. I shamelessly take advantage of the opportunity and inhale his spicy aftershave. For a beat, I forget about my broken scene, about pretty much everything except for the hard line of Shiro’s jaw. It’d take such a slight motion to tilt my head and drop a kiss on the razor-sharp edge. My cock swells, so the only way I move is to press my legs together to mask my erection, grateful for the semi-darkness helping to conceal my problem.

Get a grip, Kogane. You’re a professional, not a hormonal teenager.

Shiro is fully immersed in reading my story. Oh, fuck. I got so caught up in his appearance that I didn’t realize what I had agreed to. I don’t let anyone see my writing. Not. Anyone. Ever. Yet here I am, so drugged on the guy I forget my built-in need for privacy and shared what I hold dearest. 

“I think the injured character—Damien—he’s too quick to trust. I mean, there’s this guy who comes out of nowhere, helping him, and he doesn’t know his motivation, does he?”

I shake my head.

“Well, then, he definitely shouldn’t trust this easily. There should be more push from him.”

“That’s… useful, actually. Thanks, Shiro.” 

“My pleasure. This is really great, you know?” he rumbles in my ear. “Would you show me the entire thing?” 

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“That’s a lot of options.” The vibrations from Shiro’s laughter travel through my bones, straight into my dick. I shift in the chair again. 

“Well, if you change your mind, I’d love to read it. Perhaps I could offer you more insightful feedback?”

“I’ll think about it.” It sounds tempting, but while sharing myself, my face, and my body, is a necessary evil of my career, one that I don’t bat an eye at anymore, sharing something I created is different and much more daunting. Shiro, the good guy he is, doesn’t press further, only gives me a kind look before clapping my shoulder and retreating to his original position. I love that he’s comfortable enough to touch me casually, the same way he does with his friends. It makes me feel… seen, which I find both terrifying and exciting.

Shiro sends me one of the gentle smiles I’m becoming addicted to.

“How are you talented at everything?”

“I’m not. Really. It’s not false modesty. I worked hard on my acting skills. And this is just for fun, yet I still spend hours doing research, which isn’t a great use of my time. I should focus on something useful instead.” 

“Who says this can’t be useful? Eventually? Hell, even if it makes you unwind, that’s plenty useful.” 

“Kolivan doesn’t think so.”

“You put a lot of stock in what he thinks, huh?”

“Yeah, well, I owe him. Without him, I’d be nothing.” Poor. Abandoned. Alone.

“I haven’t known you that long, but you could never be nothing, Keith. You shine too brightly for that.”

A furious blush spills across my cheeks as Shiro watches me intently with those warm gray eyes I wish to describe in vivid detail. I’m indifferent to praise and ignore people fawning over me, wanting me, or wanting to be me. But Shiro’s kind words of support breathe honesty, and they burrow deep, finding a home inside my chest. Our gazes lock, and something shifts between us, imbuing the air with energy. Once again, I’m tempted to move closer. I need to loop my arms around him until our bodies, tongues, and breaths meld together. Shiro’s tongue sweeps over his lips, the movement innocuous enough yet keeping me completely enthralled.

“Cool.”

Cool? What am I, a complete moron? Shiro chuckles.

“It is cool. You are cool, Keith. The coolest person I’ve ever met,” he says seriously. Without any input from my brain, my hand moves to rest on Shiro’s chest. Stupid, this is such a horrible idea. We’re on set. Anyone can see us. I can’t even pretend this is just an innocent gesture between friends. Shiro’s muscle contract under my palm, firm and warm to the touch. Fascinated by the reaction, I slide the hand upward, skating over his healed shoulder, until it wraps around the back of his head, where the buzzed hair is silken against my palm. 

“Keith.” The sound of my name short-circuits something vital in my brain. I push to my feet, determined to lean closer and claim the kiss I’ve craved since our rehearsal.

“There you guys are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Acxa’s voice startles me, forcing me to jump away from Shiro so fast I lose my balance. Oh, fuck, I’m going to splat on my back like an idiot, but a strong, warm hand grabs my elbow and stabilizes me before it happens.

“T-thanks, Shiro.” 

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“No problem.” The smile he gives me is a rueful tilt of his mouth. Clearly, I’m not the only one regretting the lost chance, and the realization cheers me up a little. 

“What do you need, Acxa?”

“Mike asked me to give you revised call sheets. You’re required on set in thirty minutes.”

“We weren’t supposed to have a scene together today. I was shooting the CGI beast with Hank, if memory serves.”

“And there was a problem with the set-up, so now you’re doing a scene with Shiro.”

“We don’t have the lines memorized.”

“Mike chose a scene that has only a few lines. Better get reading, Keith.” She sends me a grin bordering on feral, aims one much more pleasant at Shiro, and departs, moving like a mongoose chasing its prey, which is unnecessary, considering she already slayed us.

“What’s the scene?” Shiro asks, already studying the call sheet. “Oh.” His eyes skim over the page and almost bulge out of his head. What the hell did Mike choose? My eyes scan the text, and when I see what’s in store for us, a bitter laugh escapes me.

Looks like I’m getting the kiss I wished for, just in an unexpected way.

***

Despite starting my acting career young, I kissed a fair amount of people on camera. The catch? All of them identified as female. They praised me for being a perfect gentleman, which wasn’t difficult, as they all lacked certain parts I find attractive. 

This situation, however… is different. Even during the blocking, I feel like a fucking newbie, uncertain, bungling lines, flustered by Shiro’s proximity. The same proximity I found so exhilarating not even an hour ago, but that was minus the camera, the crew, and the make-up artists fussing over us. Will people recognize how attracted I am to him? That’s not a problem I usually face during these situations. I am an actor, dammit. I should be able to pretend, but if I act indifferent toward Shiro, our scene will read cold and detached, something nobody wants for a big romantic moment. If I let my emotions rise to the surface, they might spill over inappropriately. Whatever I choose, I’m fucked.

Typically, I would focus on doing a decent job during my performance, on proper angles, my micro-expressions, and all that jazz, but right now, my mind is so scattered I wouldn’t recognize method acting if Stanislawski himself beat me over the head with it. 

After what seems like a century of waiting, Mike’s finally content with blocking and rehearsal, where we skipped the kiss, only saying ‘it happens,’ and we can move into shooting. There’s a moment before the start when Shiro and I are half-lying, half-sitting next to each other, propped against the fake rock that’s supposed to simulate cliffs on an alien planet where we crash-landed. 

I glance at Shiro. He’s watching me with that single-minded intensity he wears sometimes, expression solemn, working out something in his head. 

“This might be a bit late to ask, but any tips?” 

“As long as you used a breath mint, we’re good,” I say, trying for a joke. Shiro doesn’t respond but continues to study me. Guess I can’t avoid this, then. With a sigh, I continue on a more serious note.

“Look, I assume you kissed people in real life?”

He chuckles. “A few.” 

My thoughts immediately launch into overdrive, trying to figure out if ’a few’ means a couple or more and the identity of those lucky bastards. What does it matter, though? It won’t help me in the slightest. If anything, it’ll make things more awkward.

“Well, this is nothing like that. Everyone will stare at us, making points, directing us to move this way or that way because your nose is throwing a weird shadow, or my eyes have an odd reflection, crap like that. One actress I was doing a scene with insisted on only kissing with her eyes closed, but the scene required her to look at me, so we kept reshooting it forever. It was a nightmare. Anyway, this is a scene like any other. Just a job.” Now, if only I could believe my own pep talk, that’d be terrific.

“Okay, thanks. That helps.” Shiro gives a sharp nod and directs his gaze away. 

Mike waves at us, stopping any chance to discuss things further, which might be for the best. Otherwise, I could end up blurting out something wildly embarrassing. Such as I’ve never found kissing that hot, but I can’t wait to get a taste of him, and I only wish we weren’t surrounded by a hundred people when it happens.

“Action!”

For a newbie, Shiro really is a natural, and he took to acting like a duck to water. He inhabits his characters with such ease I’d be jealous if he weren’t a complete sweetheart. With the magical ‘A’ word, his entire demeanor changes, turning from a self-deprecating guy into a stern-yet-kind leader, half-dead from a strange injury at the moment. The scene is familiar. We already went through it together at Shiro’s audition, but the writers changed it to fit our new romantic plotline, so after I say, ‘The team has a leader,’ I stroke Shiro’s face instead of just looking at him. He trembles under my touch, and if it’s acting, it’s fucking genius, but I’m not so sure anymore. Based on what almost happened in my trailer and even half an hour before, maybe he feels the electric current arcing between us, too.

“How’s your wound?” I ask quietly, my hand resting on Shiro’s face. He half-props himself on his elbow to edge closer. 

“My wound’s great. It’s getting bigger all the time.” 

Even though it’s Ryou talking, it’s such a Shiro thing to say that only years of practice stop me from letting out a laugh. Instead, I school my face into a concerned expression.

“Hang in there. Once we get to the Castle, princess Fala will fix you right up in a healing pod.”

Still in character, he hums and leans closer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, breaking our contact. My breath hitches, something I didn’t plan, but it works, so I roll with it. Mike doesn’t call ‘cut,’ either, so he must be satisfied as well.

“There’s one more thing I meant to do in case we don’t survive,” Shiro says. His left arm wraps around me and pulls me closer. My eyes are wide, trained on his face, noting how his pupils are blown, like two black starbursts in an ocean of grey. Then I have no more time to observe anything because Shiro’s lips brush over mine. The touch is hesitant but races along my spine, cherry red and intoxicating. I’m kissing Shiro for the first time. On camera, with the entire film crew gaping at us. Okay, I would’ve picked different circumstances for our first kiss, but those doubts fall away when Shiro angles his head and surges into my mouth. I respond with a moan, opening for him and letting him twine our tongues together. Each slide is exquisite torture, and my dick hardens behind my costume. Thank god the scene called for the stiff armor version that shows nothing, otherwise I’d face an embarrassing scenario.

Shiro makes a feral sound in the back of his throat that goes straight to my balls, part groan, part growl, and his hands move to my waist, where they encounter the unyielding suit. He responds with a frustrated huff and kisses me even deeper. His tongue is a wicked, devious thing, swirling around my mouth as if it owns the place. Fuck, by now, it pretty much does. Something in me breaks, and I take over, plunging my tongue inside his mouth to devour him properly. The heat between us is a wildfire, obliterating everything in its way, and it’s a miracle that our skin doesn’t blister from the heat leaping between us. Based on Shiro’s ragged breathing, and the way he eats at me, I’m not the only one affected.

“Cut!” Mike’s voice is a crack of a whip, tearing me away from bliss to cold hard reality. I pull back but can’t help staring at Shiro, who returns my gaze, eyes wide, lips shiny and swollen. 

“Guys, loving the energy, but less intensity next time, okay? And by intensity, I mean tongues. We’re not on cable, so keep it PG thirteen-friendly. Take five, and we’re doing this from the top.” 

Okay. Kissing Shiro again. With less enthusiasm. Shouldn’t be difficult, right? Not for the consummate professional I am. As if hearing me, Shiro licks his bruised lips, and my cock reacts with a painful throb. Is he moving in slow motion somehow? 

So fucking professional. This afternoon is going to be endless.

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