Yes. Maybe stop by Chametz.”
Ronan nodded. “I will. See you.” His voice was still gruff—but that was just him, and Simon was starting to understand that maybe people were more nuanced than just friends or enemies. He had wasted a lot of his young life not realizing that.
The pair disappeared, and not two minutes later, a cab pulled into the parking lot and around the corner. Simon sat back down on the stone bench and listened to Eric’s voice rising in protest, then to him cry softly. A door shut, and then the cab was gone.
For a single, impossible second, Simon worried Rocco had gone with him. Then he saw him, coming around the corner, picking up speed when he saw where Simon was waiting. Simon was on his feet—exhausted by the emotions the drama had pulled out of him, but grateful to have warm arms pulling him in.
“Sorry,” Rocco said, holding Simon’s face up to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. “I love you. I was trying to say I love you.” Rocco pulled one hand away to make the three-fingered sign at him, then he pressed it over Simon’s heart. ‘I love you.’
Simon closed his eyes, then held his own sign up in reply. ‘I love you.’
Rocco curled his fingers around Simon’s wrist and kissed the place where his middle and ring finger sat curved against his palm. Simon’s eyes closed after that. The night was bound to be even longer, but it didn’t matter. Rocco was with him, and there was some sort of happy ending—right there in that empty parking lot, with tears in his eyes, and a kiss on his lips.
It was all absolutely perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rocco was nervous—and he hadn’t expected to be. He had bottomed before, just never on camera, and not often. Once or twice when Eric was a little drunk and feeling needy, Rocco had given in. But it hadn’t ever been pleasant. Eric was selfish and sloppy and quick. There was something erotic about being filled, but he felt used rather than cherished, and it wasn’t anything he wanted to encourage in his relationship.
This time was different. This time was Simon’s intense gaze, and his clever, skilled fingers, and the mouth Rocco could spend hours kissing. The camera was on now—pointed right at them. It had been six weeks and the first two videos had gone just as viral as Rocco predicted. Simon’s royalties were racking up—fast and beyond what Rocco could have hoped—though he knew in part it was because he’d been found out.
But the best part was watching people love Simon, and reading the comments about how hot his lover was, how erotic, how desperate the audience was to be Rocco instead of with him. It was a powerful feeling to know that Simon was his.
He and Simon had watched the final videos together all at once, and then had devoured each other with the last of them playing on in the background. They were hot—and Rocco could jack off to the image of Simon coming all over himself without even touching his dick for the rest of his life, but having Simon’s body to himself was so much more.
Now, he lay on the bed, Simon kneeling over him, two fingers shoved deep in Rocco’s ass. He spread his legs wider, and moaned for the camera, but he also moaned for Simon. He let the vibrations ripple through him as he arched and thrust himself against Simon’s hand, and he lost his breath when Simon added a third finger.
‘More,’ Rocco begged.
Simon’s heated gaze met his. His freckles stood out against his wanton blush, making him look deliciously debauched, and it took all of Rocco’s strength not to just pull Simon by the hips until he was buried balls deep in Rocco’s waiting hole.
‘Please,’ he added, when Simon made no move to comply.
There was more lube suddenly, shocking and cold, then a fourth finger. He felt split apart on Simon’s hand, and he never, ever wanted it to end.
‘Ready?’ Simon asked with one hand.
They had agreed—no voicing. Not for this—not between them. Rocco’s language was enough, and they’d met a nice guy in town who did captions and was happy to agree.
‘Are you ready?’ Rocco threw back. ‘Are you ready to lose your virginity to me?’
‘You already took my heart,’ Simon told him, and Rocco’s head fell back against the pillows. ‘I want to give the rest of myself to you.’
It was terrible, cheesy dialogue—but before their night