UNIQUE;

When the other came, he swallowed Cameron down drip by drip, his tongue running along the length and tip to make sure he didn't let one bit go to waste. Xavi breathed heavily, smiling up at Cam when the other cupped his cheek. He immediately leaned into the touch, his eyes feeling heavy and body aching for more of Cameron. He was painfully hard himself tongue stuck out to swipe along his slid as he smiled ever so sweetly. "You taste good." Xavi breathed out, his cheeks coloring red as his fingers ran down Cameron's toned stomach. God he was so hot. He never wanted to leave, never wanted to get out of the closet. Click.

The second he stepped back into the party, the noise hit him all at once. Whistles, laughter, people calling out, some idiot making a crude comment with Xavi's name, loud enough to get a few more laughs from the guys by the kitchen. Normally Cameron would have eaten that shit up. Normally, he would have thrown his arms out, played to the crowd, turned it into another story everyone could laugh about tomorrow. But not this time. His eyes landed on the guy who uttered it, and he saw red. “Shut the hell up,” he yelled, grabbing a fistful of the guy’s shirt before he could think better of it. The other dude’s hands came up fast, eyes going wide. “Chill, man, I was joking-” Cameron shoved him back hard enough to make him stumble. “Yeah? Joke’s over. Fuck off.” The laughter around them cut off fast, the group realizing that the soccer player didn't want to play along. He stood there with his fists tightened, shoulders squared, still breathing hard as his glare moved over the group. “What?” he barked, daring someone to keep going. “Anybody else wanna be funny?” Silence followed. Cameron’s mouth twisted, all his usual playful charm disappeared. “That’s what I thought. Keep his name out of your mouth.”

His attention moved back to cutting through the crowd, searching for Xavi’s familiar shape, the dark head ducked low, the way he was trying to disappear in a packed house. “Xav!” He pushed past two guys near the stairs, voice louder now. “Xavi, hey - come here.” When he finally caught up to him, his hand closed around his wrist, firm but not rough, pulling him out of the flow of bodies and toward the staircase before anyone else could get close enough to say something stupid. “Upstairs,” he said, like it wasn’t up for debate. “C'mon.” He didn’t stop until they reached the hallway upstairs, leading them both into the first empty bedroom he found. Cameron shut the door behind them and leaned back against it for a second, chest rising with a sharp breath. The muffled music still thudded downstairs, but it felt distant now. His gaze landed on Xavi properly. “Hey,” he said, quieter, taking a step closer but not crowding him this time. “You okay?”

His hand lifted like he was going to touch the other guy's face, then stopped halfway, fingers curling instead. “That guy’s a fucking loser,” Cameron added, rougher now, like anger was easier than concern. “Seriously. He doesn’t know shit.” He dragged a hand through his hair, unsure how to even approach this. Did anybody even know that Xavi was into guys? Didn't seem that way, with how he acted when Cameron found him watching gay porn. “They’re all drunk anyways,” he said after a minute, voice lower. “Half of them won’t even remember what they saw tomorrow, and the other half have done worse in this house. Like, way worse.” He gave a weak breath of a laugh that didn’t really land. “This place is basically built on people making bad decisions in closets.” His eyes landed right onto his face, his expression softening. “But I know that doesn’t make it feel better right now.”

Lips parted when Cameron peeled his shirt off his body, mouth watering with need. His eyes shamelessly traveled down the other man's torso, humming softly and needy as he kissed his way down. The fingers pinning down his shoulders made him shiver. Cameron wasn't pulling away so Xavi was only doing more, wanting to show him that he really wanted to be good for him. His little noises made him smile, big eyes peering up at him through his long lashes. Xavi was mouthing and kissing the other's jeans, leaving wet stains on the fabric.

Fighting the urge to just close his eyes and drift away in the haze, Cameron forced his gaze downward. He wanted to witness the submission of the guy beneath him. As he looked down, a ragged, broken moan ripped from his throat. There was Xavi, face pressed firmly against his groin. The sight of his pulsing dick disappearing into that tight mouth, the edge of his lips stretched wide to accommodate him, was almost too much already. "Fuck..." Cameron choked out, his fingers tightening their grip on his hair, pulling his head back just enough to see the glistening string of saliva connecting them. "You look so fucking good on your knees for me, Xavi. Just look at you... taking every inch." Fingers dove deep into those dark curls, urging him to take his length back again. He stopped being passive, beginning to thrust, his hips jerking forward in sync with the smaller man, driving his cock deeper. He wanted to feel that tightness, wanted to hear Xavi gag slightly as he forced himself past his teeth and aimed for the back of his throat.

He could feel the familiar pool of heat building in his balls, his muscles tightening as he reached the point of no return. His breath came in ragged, shallow hitches, his movements sharp and irregular. With a final thrust, Cameron erupted right into Xavi’s mouth, body shuddering as the waves of orgasm crashed over him. Sliding out with a wet pop, he gazed down, noting the way the other guy’s lips glistened with the results, a dazed smile on his face. He cupped his cheek, admiring the view. “Looks good on you,” he breathed, his other hand dragging the tip of his dick along his lips to smear it all over.

Click.

At any rate, a few drinks to further self-sabotage his dwindling bank account had made his mood a little less sour. He made useless conversation with some of the regulars at the bar, and after last call he shuffled down the street. Going home to his empty apartment that he would now have to pay for himself was unthinkable right now. The neon OPEN sign at the tattoo shop at the end of the block caught his eye, and he sauntered in. Harrison had zero ink to speak of but hey, there were a few twenties burning a hole in his pocket. Surely that was enough for something, right?

"Not sure about better," Harrison drawled. "Whinier, for sure." His eyes drifted away from the other man and over the busy walls of flashes and work in progress. He stepped closer, the warmth of the studio and that smirk luring him in. "So... you actually an artist, huh? Or do they keep you here to get the alt girls interested in paying for a new mistake?"

“Alt boys too,” he corrected easily. “We don’t discriminate. Bad decisions spend the same.” His gaze travelled over the stranger again, slower this time and with considerably less effort to hide it, taking in the expensive-looking clothes, the loose posture, the confidence that seemed to cling to him even with alcohol blurring the edges. No visible ink, though. Not on his arms, not peeking above his collar. Interesting. Mateo had learned a long time ago that the people who looked least likely to get tattooed were usually the ones carrying the strangest ideas around with them. And the best stories. He stepped closer to the flash-covered wall, folding his arms loosely across his chest. “And yeah, I’m the artist.” His eyes flicked back toward Harrison, amusement sitting easy in them. “Receptionist called out sick, so now I’ve gotta draw the tattoos and flirt with the walk-ins. Brutal working conditions.” He let the words hang there for a second, gaze dipping deliberately over the other man before returning to his face. “Could be worse. At least they sent someone easy on the eyes.”

Mateo nodded his head toward Harrison’s bare skin. “You don’t look like you’ve made this kind of mistake before.” Without waiting for an answer, he reached behind the desk and pulled out one of the battered flash books, dropping it onto the counter between them. “Before you ask, no infinity symbols, no lions with the bright blue eyes, and I’m fresh out of hearts that say Mom across the middle.” He leaned one hand against the counter, close enough now to catch the alcohol on the other's breath, though he didn’t retreat from it. If anything, the corner of his mouth tugged a little higher. He nudged the book toward him with two ringed fingers. “But I’m sure we can find something else pretty enough for you.”

Both the alcohol and weed in his body caused him to not even notice the door swinging open, only feeling Cameron pull away. His hands moved from Cameron's neck, sliding down his chest before he was being pulled along. He was slow but very much content. "Hey, I can walk by myself pretty fine you know." He mumbled but the smile on his lips showed that he didn't mind being dragged to anywhere by Cameron. In the storage room, he knocked over some buckets and almost tripped on a ball before stabilizing himself against the wood panelling. "What if they find us here? You're crazy." One of Xavi's hand moved around Cam's head again while the other brought the joint to his own lips, inhaling slowly. The words he spoke to his cheek, Xavi moaned softly. He inhaled again and tossed the end of the joint on the floor, stepping on it so he could grab both hands to pull Cameron's face down to his. He repeated what Cameron done to him before, pressing their lips together and exhaling the smoke in his mouth. He blushed heavily upon feeling how hard Cameron was, his body hot and cock aching with need. Xavi nodded a few times slowly, his hands tugging the ends of Cameron's hair as his lips pressed a few sweet kisses along his jawline. He was so high, snickering softly into Cameron's ear. "You're being mean to me." Xavi's teeth nipped at his earlobe, tugging it between his teeth shortly. "I like it when you're mean." His mouth pressed kisses all over his chest, hands lowering to pull up his shirt a bit so he could kiss down to Cameron's stomach before he sank down onto his knees for Cameron. "I don't want to wait. I need to know what you taste like. Please i've been thinking about it forever." Xavi's hand moved along Cameron's thighs, his mouth pressed open over his hard but clothed cock. "How many times did you score, three times? I want to get you off that many times tonight." His hands moved to the edge of his jeans but he didn't unbotton just yet. Xavi would wait until he was told to, even if he was eager. "No blondie, only Xavi." He smiled sweetly, humming as his mouth brushed along his cock. "Don't make me wait here, I'll go insane."

The heat followed Xavi downward, and Cameron didn't hesitate, yanking his shirt up and over his head in one fluid motion before tossing it blindly onto some sports gear. He wanted the other man to see him, to feel the raw tension in his body. Warm lips and a wet tongue began to worship his stomach, tracing the ridges of his well-defined abs, and Cameron let out a shaky breath, fingers digging deep into his shoulders. The sensation of being worshipped like this - raw, unfiltered made him practically vibrate.

Then, Xavi sank to his knees. He looked down and nearly lost his breath. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, a ragged whisper. Seeing Xavi there in the dim light, looking up at him with such desperate, dilated eyes, was a fucking sight. It was exactly where he belonged. When the begging started, claiming he wanted to make Cameron come three times tonight, a surge of possessive heat almost blinded him. The sheer greed of it, how the smaller man wanted to drain him dry, made the jock's cock throb painfully against the denim. His hips bucked involuntarily forward against the open-mouthed kisses to his erection, a sharp moan ripping from his throat. He couldn't take the barrier of the fabric for another second. He wasn't going to make him wait.

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmured. His palm remained pressed against Kit’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath it. “We finish filming, and try.” His brows pulled together slightly. “But filming doesn’t end for a while. We still have the rest of the season.” There would be weeks of rehearsals and interviews, scenes where Kit’s hands would find him just as they had now, except then they would have to pretend the touches meant only what was written on the page. Arti’s fingers unfurled slowly against his shirt, pressing more firmly as though he needed the contact to steady himself. “Every time we film something now, every time you touch me, we’ll know it’s more than the scene.” His voice dropped further. “And then we’ll go home to them and act like nothing has changed.” The guilt sharpened as soon as he said it. His girlfriend would ask how his day had been. She always asked about Kit with such fondness because she knew how nervous Arti had been about working alongside someone so experienced. And he would tell her about the long hours and the number of takes they had needed, carefully removing every important detail until there was nothing left that could hurt her. “That’s part of what you’re asking me to do,” he whispered, looking up at last. There was no accusation in it. If anything, the words sounded pained because he knew he was not asking him for anything he didn't already want.

His eyes searched Kit’s, wide and uncertain, but he made no effort to move away. The chemistry between them had stopped feeling like something created by clever editing or a director who knew how to frame a lingering look. It followed Arti off set. It waited for him in the quiet of his apartment and slipped into his thoughts when he was with his girlfriend. His hand shifted higher against the other man's chest, his fingertips following the line towards his collarbone, thumb brushing over it. “I want to know,” Arti confessed quietly. “I want to know what this feels like when there isn’t a camera in front of us. I want to know whether you’ll still look at me l-like…” He faltered, his gaze dropping briefly to Kit’s mouth before returning to his eyes. "The way I want you to." His bottom lip caught between his teeth, cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink as he realised the admission had made everything he had said before it worse. “I know that makes me selfish. I know it isn’t fair to either of them. But you’re right. I don’t think I can keep pretending I don’t want to find out.”

Voices carried into the hallway a moment later, accompanied by approaching footsteps and the faint crackle of someone speaking into a radio. Arti startled, but he did not pull away immediately. For one suspended second, he stayed exactly where he was, committing the warmth of Kit’s body and the weight of his hand at his waist to memory in case they never allowed themselves this again. Then, gathering what little courage he had left, his hand slipped from his chest and curled carefully around the back of his neck. He rose slightly onto his toes and pressed his forehead against the taller man's. It was not a kiss, though the distance between their mouths was small enough that Arti could feel Kit’s breath against his lips. His eyes closed, and he let himself remain there for one quiet beat longer than was safe. The gesture was hesitant, almost painfully tender, but there was an answer in it all the same. “I want to try,” he whispered. The footsteps drew closer. Arti finally released the breath he had not realised he was holding and reluctantly lowered himself back onto his heels. His hand slipped from Kit’s neck, though his fingers dragged lightly against his skin before falling away. “I should go.” He stepped back, the sudden absence of the other man's warmth leaving him colder than he expected. His gaze flickered towards the end of the hallway before returning to him one last time. “We have scenes together this week,” he said, his nervousness returning as the reality of what they had agreed to settled over him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to look at you and pretend nothing happened.” His lips pressed together, unsuccessfully suppressing the smallest, shyest hint of a smile. "But I’ll be there.”

Xavi stood beside Cameron and watched him light the joint. Literally anything this guy did was turning him on, it was insane. He'd never been like that with anyone else before. Xavi started at his mouth the entire time, paying close attention then watched the way the smoke vanished in the air. He nodded slowly and took the joint, inhaling but inhaling a little too deeply that caused him to frown deeply, a soft cough falling from his lips. The unfamiliar feeling washed over him from the drag and he let out a breathy laugh. "You've done this before." His eyes rolled at the mention of a beauty sleep. Overall he just looked a little stunned that Cameron was suggesting doing it again. He thought that it was a one time thing, to show Xavi what he was missing out on, guide him, but apparently he liked it too? With literally everyone at the party to chose from, he felt honored. "We were home alone. That's different." He mumbled. "What? You want me to sneak in your bed at night? You know I can't be quiet when you're doing all that-" he glanced around to see if anyone else was eavesdropping before looking back at Cameron with a slow shrug. He told him to open his mouth and Xavi did instantly. He was always pliant - especially with Cameron - but the weed had him falling into this lazy, unbothered feeling. Once he exhaled, Xavi inhaled and let the smoke hit him. "No," his hand reached for Cameron's shirt and he stared down to his lips, hazy eyes coming back up once more. "I don't want you to fuck anyone else." The words were out before he knew it: blunt and honest. "Tell me when and where. I want to be with you." Fingers moved to Cameron's hand holding the blunt and he guided them to his lips inhaling slowly while staring into Cameron's eyes. He felt good. Lips curled up in a little smile and he tipped his head up to watch the clear night sky, free hand still holding on to the fabric of Cam's shirt. "Do you know how stupid it is to see you all around that girl? I think it's stupid. And I'm sure I'm a better kisser." He mumbled.

Then Xavi’s hand caught in the front of his shirt, and Cameron’s attention dropped to it immediately. He let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound vibrating in his chest as he felt his fingers tighten on his shirt. The blunt honesty of "I don't want you to fuck anyone else" hit him like a shot of adrenaline, sending a massive surge of ego straight to his head. He didn't do feelings—feelings were messy and restrictive—but he absolutely loved the devotion. The way Xavi was practically vibrating with need for him, the way he was claiming him even while acting all shy and pliant, was an intoxicating cocktail. He took another long drag of the joint, the weed pulling him deeper into a golden, euphoric haze. His inhibitions weren't just dropping; they were gone. He felt heavy-lidded and warm, his skin buzzing with a lusty energy that made him want to just devour Xavi right there. His gaze stayed fixed on him as he guided the joint back toward himself from his hand, watching the way his lips wrapped around it. "You're such a little brat," he said with amusement, but made no effort to free from his grip. "Better kisser? Prove it." He stepped forward suddenly, closing the distance in one fluid motion and pressing his lips against Xavi's. It was open-mouthed and greedy, his tongue sliding in to claim his mouth with a confident, arrogant sweep.

The phone in his pocket buzzed then, loud in the silence between them. Arti flinched as though it had exposed him all over again. He didn't need to check the screen to guess who it was; she always messaged around this time, usually with a string of hearts or a photograph of whatever dessert she had decided they needed to try together. His hand hovered near his pocket but did not reach inside. Instead, he gazed back at Kit, his expression caught somewhere between fear and a longing he was no longer managing to conceal. “I kept telling myself it would stop when filming finished,” he said unevenly. “That I only thought about you because we were together doing long days, because the scenes were…” His cheeks burned, and he shook his head, unable to force himself through the memory of them. “But then you weren’t there today, and it didn’t stop.” His voice cracked slightly on the final word. “So, what am I supposed to do, Kit?” He asked, barely above a whisper. “What are either of us supposed to do now?”

"Maybe next game I'll come and you can score some more." Xavi shrugged, eyes peeking up to meet his gaze and unable not to blush. God he was pretty. Eyes moved down to his lips, his tongue coming to wet his own bottom lip before he caught himself staring and looked back up. "What? No." He lied, with a soft chuckle, cheeks a burning red. "No, I'm okay. I'm having fun. Not waiting for you, I mean - you got plenty of people wanting something from you anyways. You should celebrate." Xavi took a few sips from his drink, body naturally melting into Cameron's while his eyes never once left his. "There's some guys asking if I wanted to get high. Never really smoked weed but maybe it's fun." He was trying to invite Cameron. "I'll be in the garden, with this." He fished out a pre-rolled joint. "Please don't pick someone loud tonight, I really want to sleep." And he didn't want to hear anyone moan.

Outside, the noise of the party dulled behind them, music still thumping through the walls as Cameron took the joint from him with an easy, “Lemme.” He cupped a hand around the end, sparked it, and took the first drag like he’d done it plenty of times before, then exhaled slowly into the night air before holding it back out to Xavi. “Don’t try to be a hero,” he warned, voice teasing but not unkind. “Small pull first.” His grin tilted as he leaned against the garden wall, watching him too closely. "And what was that about not picking somebody loud?" he asked, brows lifting as if he'd only just remembered. "What, you need your beauty sleep? I wore you out that bad yesterday?" His tone was teasing, eyes dropping to his mouth when the joint was brought to his lips. "That's too bad, thought it was pretty hot when you were being loud." Cameron let that sit for a second, looking far too pleased with himself as he reached to take the joint back. His fingers brushed Xavi’s again before he brought it to his own mouth. This time, after he took a slow drag, he didn’t turn away to exhale. He stepped in closer instead, close enough that the smoke curled faintly between them, his gaze fixed on Xavi’s lips. “Open,” he murmured, blowing the smoke gently into his mouth. The signature grin came back as he pulled away by an inch. “But hey, if you need sleep so bad, no big deal.” He let his head rest against the wall, gazing down at the other guy. “Can't promise they won't be a lil' loud though.”

"i heard you." kit pushed himself away from the wall, his arms folding loosely across his chest as he looked at the other. there was no anger in his voice, not exactly. just that calm, unreadable tone that somehow made it worse. "you called out my name while he was fucking you." it was supposed to be nothing. just a scene. a part of the job. one that kit had decided to sit in on under the excuse of wanting to understand the direction, the chemistry, the way the scene was supposed to play out. but then it happened. and now he couldn't stop thinking about it. "you wanna tell me again how this," his gaze lingered between them, on whatever the hell they were becoming at this point, "is just acting."

The girl beside him tried to keep the conversation going, but Cameron barely glanced back at her. “Give me a minute, yeah?” he said easily, already turning his body toward Xavi like the decision had been made. He took a sip from the cup, eyes staying on the guy over the rim for a second too long. “Careful, Xavi boy,” he said, voice dropping just enough to make it feel less like a joke. “You keep showing up all sweet with drinks for me, people are gonna start thinking you’re my favorite.” Then, like he had every right to, Cameron slung an arm around Xavi’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. “You wanna be my fave?” he added, grin tilting as he looked down at him. His thumb brushed idly against his shoulder where his arm rested around him. “Yeah, ’m having fun,” he said, glancing around the packed room with a pleased little nod. “Music’s loud, drinks are shit, everybody wants my attention...comes with being the reason we aced that game. Did you see my shot? ” His gaze dropped back to the smaller man, openly amused now. “What about you?” Cameron asked, leaning in slightly so the words landed closer to his ear. “You having a good night, or were you waiting for me to make it better?"