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“That’s what you see when I look at you, Felix?” His eyes drop to my mouth, then back to my eyes, stunned. “Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound certain anymore. Without another thought, I press my mouth hard against his. When he moans, delicious and submissive, I groan.
“What the fuck is happening right now?” I ask the universe. Nico answers, “I’m kissing you.” “Why?” He chuckles at this and it’s like melted toffee—slow and delicious. Has he always sounded like that? “Because I want to.” Another kiss. “Since when do you want to kiss me?”
“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly. I almost choke on his cock because it sounds sincere. Too sincere. I decide to just go with it.
“I really like seeing my cock in your mouth.” “Mmm, well I really like having it in there.” “Look at me, Felix,” he says, and I do. He grazes a thumb over my cheekbone in a feather-soft circle, and that, coupled with the look in his eye, makes my chest feel very strange. “Keep my cock in your mouth—don’t suck it—and make yourself come.”
“I’m sorry I was cross with you yesterday,” he says against my hair. “It was both our faults for taking that risk. But you were correct; I’m a grown man and I can and should take responsibility for my own actions.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “But you are extremely tempting…” I almost purr at that. “I try my best.” He lets out a soft groan as I graze my hand over the front of his jeans. “Did you wear it?” he whispers. “Yes, daddy.” Another groan. “Show me,” he says, and I do.
“A gay ballet?” he asks. Benedict smiles. “Yes, Felix. Very gay.”
“I’d like you to meet your Achilles—he looks at Felix—and the greatest love of his life, Patroclus.” He looks at me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says then. His voice sounds raw from kissing, and when he pulls back to look me in the eye, they’re almost black from desire. “I love this mouth.”
“How do I feel?” I ask him for some stupid reason. “Perfect.” He meets my eye when he says this. “You’re fucking perfect, Felix.”
Desperate to ride him, I instigate the switch up of position a short time later, and this time he lets me. Once I’m slotted back onto his dick, I lean back on his thighs and give it everything I have. It takes me no time at all to realise I need him even deeper inside me, and I shift again so that I’m squatting over his dick. “Fuck, look at you,” he says, eyes wide as he watches me.
“Fuck, I’m close,” I tell him. He nods. “Yeah, me too. On my face,” he says. “Your face?” I check. “Yeah, I want to taste you.”
“You’re soaked, princess.” When he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it, I’m certain I’m going to come right there. Virtually untouched. “Nico, please…” I beg. “Please what? What do you want? Want me to fuck you here like a slut, huh?” “Yes, fuck me here. I need you to fuck me.”
He’s entirely right; I’ve no fucking idea how I’m going to get through fourteen-hour days without pinning him down and fucking him raw on the rehearsal room floor.
“Look at your face when I come inside you, look how much you love being filled up.” I kiss his neck as I thrust, watching his eyes watch me and then himself. “So fucking beautiful…” I tell him. “Look at you…” When I’m close to coming, I shift my grip on his cock, wrapping my hand around it as much as the fabric will allow. He loses patience with this and tears open the front of the ruined pair of tights down to free his dick. “Nico,” he pants. “I’m gonna shoot… Nico.” “Yeah? Let me see it, that’s it, beautiful.” I watch his face as it moves through him, eyes pressed closed, lip disappearing
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He gasps. “Wow, I’m your first? Christ, you really love me, don’t you?” You really have no fucking idea.
“But I’m not your enemy or your rival. I want to be your…” I want to be your everything. “…friend.”
I want you to want me the way I can’t seem to stop myself wanting you. I want you to want something real with me. I want whatever a real relationship looks like with you. I want to go to the ruins of Pompeii and take sickening couple photos with you and post them on Instagram.
Tell me what you want from me, Felix, and it’s yours. But if you want more from me, you got it.
He lied about meeting his father. He lied so he could meet his politician instead. I’m so stunned, so filled with rage and petty jealousy that I don’t trust myself to go toward him. I don’t trust myself not to lose it with him right here in this very busy street. Before I can do anything, Felix disappears down into the underground tunnel and out of sight. I turn and run back the way I’d come.
‘I think you’re falling in love with him, sweetheart,’ he’d said tonight. ‘And yes, I know you’ll want to argue the toss about that, but I can see it. How your face lights up when you talk about him—but then, it actually always has.’
We circle each other, not yet touching. Achilles and Patroclus. Felix and Nico.
When I set him down, we stay close, barely an inch between us. He leans in, his breath ghosting against my ear as we move together, every step a whisper of unspoken words. I love you. I need you. Don’t leave me.
“So, I asked for a clause in my contract with LBC that said they’d do that. Cast me in a show with you. That’s the ‘Felix clause.’ That’s all it was.” He’s watching me, waiting for my reaction.

