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“When I kissed you,” said Patrick, finally bringing his gaze up to meet Will’s. And in what he would come to think of later as a minor miracle, all of Will’s self-doubt fell away. Nobody had ever looked at him the way Patrick was looking at him now: with abject, unfiltered desire, free of guile or condition.
He wants me, Will realized, and he dropped his tote on the floor just in time for Patrick to grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. This wasn’t the playful, tentative kiss of the cinema. Patrick was forceful, hungry, exploring Will’s mouth with his tongue and breathing hard. Will pushed back with equal ardor, running his hand through Patrick’s hair, biting his lip and delighting in the groan that elicited.
Who knew how long they stayed that way, pawing at each other’s clothes like animals, until Patrick finally tore himself away, as if remembering something important, like he had summoned Will here to fix a leaky tap or replenish his towels.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he said. “Before we go any further.”
“OK…?”
“It’s…kind of awkward.”
“Oh. Oh. If it’s a safety thing, I’m on PrEP. And I…not to be presumptuous, but I brought the essentials.” He nodded to the tote bag on the floor, which contained everything he had deemed necessary for the occasion: poppers, lube, condoms, chewing gum, ChapStick, as well as a granola bar, bottled water, and a novel for the bus home.
“It’s not that,” Patrick said. “I mean, it kind of is. And that’s all good to know. Really good to know.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Did you get an email this week from somebody at Summers and Chase?”
“I did. It sounded like spam for a new soap brand.”
“Summers and Chase are a talent agency. They’re who my manager, Simone, works for.”
“Your talent reps are emailing me? That’s very nice of them, but unless they’re planning on opening an office in Brum, I don’t really see the point in them wanting to represent me.”
“That’s not…Shit. Sorry. No. That’s not it. I mean, I’m sure they would. You’re great! But.” Patrick exhaled deeply. “I’m not doing this very well. Here.” He walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, picked up a sheaf of official-looking papers, and handed them to Will, who glanced down at them just long enough to see his full name—William Oliver Wright—at the bottom of the first page. Had he even told Patrick his middle name?
“If we’re going to, you know? Then I need you to sign this.”
“What is it?”
“A gag,” said Patrick.
“Sounds hot.”
“It just means you can’t talk about anything that might happen between us. Or anything that already happened. There’s a retroactive clause in there that covers what happened at the movie the other day.”
“That sounds considerably less hot.”
“I know. I’m sorry. This is just how these things work where I’m from.”
“Jersey?”
Patrick smiled, as if pleasantly surprised that Will had remembered this biographical detail. Of course, it was easy to remember things about the guy you were into when he had his very own Wikipedia page.
“Hollywood,” said Patrick. “It’s how everything works there. Lawyers, nondisclosure agreements, fake relationships constructed by PR firms and real ones covered up by the same people.” He rubbed his mouth and looked at Will with a sorrowful arch to his brow, as if to say, I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I hate asking this of you.
This was all utter bullshit, of course. What could be sillier, more of an instant mood killer, than doing paperwork before having sex with someone for the first time? Will understood why it was necessary in principle, but to see it in black and white was another thing entirely.
“I can’t say it’s the most romantic proposition I’ve ever had,” said Will, walking slowly over to the desk. “But you’re also not the first man to ask me if I can be discreet.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” said Patrick. “I truly cannot stress that enough.”
“I haven’t told anybody about what happened the other day,” said Will. “Which is honestly kind of amazing, actually. I’ve been dodging texts from Jordan about it all week because he already thought you fancied me.”
“He wasn’t wrong.” Will felt a warmth rush to his cheeks upon hearing this.
“He’s all but guessed, though. Which means he’s probably in a side chat with April about it. Also, you came to dinner at Margo’s, so she almost definitely thinks something is going on. So…” He tapped the documents in front of him. “It’s technically already out there.”
“Hmm.” Patrick looked down to the paper, then back up at Will. That look had not yet fully left his eyes. Will hoped it never did.
“Do you trust them?” he asked.
