Hunter Lewis does not believe in luck. He believes in hard work and making tough decisions, which is how he became the Duke, one of Naked Boys Films’ most popular models.
Since his start in the adult film industry, he’s earned himself a reputation for being one hell of a power top and has even won the coveted title of Naked Boy of the Year. So when his favorite director, Sam, claims it’s his lucky day when he calls him in for an unscheduled shoot, Hunter doesn’t think much of it. Until, of course, he meets the newest Naked Boy, Lynn Valentine.
This will be Lynn’s first film ever, and he’s specifically requested Hunter to be his partner in the shoot. Not only is Lynn the hottest guy Hunter has ever seen, he’s also sweet and adorable and very cuddly, with the bubbliest personality and a smile like sunshine. Hunter does not mix his personal and professional lives, but he’s never hit it off so well with another model before.
Luck or not, this might be the shoot that changes everything.
It’s like a firework. Every inch of Hunter’s body springs to life. Tingling down to the soles of his feet as that bit of facial hair scrapes against Hunter’s chin. Lynn tastes like summer and rain and the outdoors. There’s no haste to this kiss, though. No fevered movement or rush in what they do. They’re just kissing. Soft and sweet, and Hunter can’t honestly remember the last time he did this. Just ... made out with someone. Lips, tongues, mouths seeking out every last bit possible.
Hands caressing Lynn’s face, Hunter takes a tender hold, keeping him in place without being forceful in any way, and nearly singing with joy when Lynn doesn’t move. Lynn’s lips part enough to invite Hunter inside, and Hunter gladly accepts. He gently strokes their tongues together, lets them roll playfully as he teases the inside of Lynn’s mouth.
Lynn’s hand still runs up Hunter’s side, only now it’s sliding up his shirt, leaving glimmers of shivers all along his skin, and it occurs to him that Lynn still has on this fucking shirt. Now that is totally and completely ridiculous. Hunter’s fingers grip the end of it with every intention of ripping it off.
Only he never gets the chance.
“All righty, you two,” Sam says as he makes his way back into the room. “Danny’s all ready to go.”
The two of them tear away from each other just before Sam slips back into the room. Their photographer, Danny, comes in right behind him carrying two cameras. Three other people follow them, with lights and stands and different lenses for the cameras. Sam’s holding another cup of coffee, and blabbering on about his decision to film right there on the couch, since the morning light coming in from the window is perfect today. All the while he sips from his mug, explaining how he wants things to go, even though Hunter knows damn well that once they get started Sam’ll let any chemistry -- any chemistry? pft -- between them, lead the way.
The whole time, Lynn nods along and Hunter tries to pay attention, but the gorgeous guy next to him has gone tense and rigid -- and not in the good way. Hunter can’t believe what just happened. What the hell was he thinking? This poor guy’s here for his first shoot, and he certainly doesn’t need to feel taken advantage of. Hunter tries to peek over at Lynn, while Lynn keeps his eyes trained right on Sam.
“Right, so, why don’t you two get ready,” Sam suggests a little bit later when he’s done discussing with them what he’d like to get done today, “while we get the lights set up.”
Crew members are already doing that while Danny hands out simple instructions. The sun is pouring in beautifully from the window behind them. Not harsh at all. Just happily twirling along the couch.
“Yeah, okay,” Hunter murmurs and rises to his feet, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Uh, this way, Lynn.”
He leads Lynn off to the side and behind the dressing screens, where he starts undressing. Places his shirt upon the judgmental folding chair, glaring at him. Knowing what he’s done. Hunter feels awful, and he needs to apologize.
“So just ... right here?” Lynn asks before Hunter gets the chance.
His hands move from the bottom of his shirt to the top of his pants down to his shoes like he’s not sure what he should do first.
“Oh. Yeah. Go ahead,” Hunter tells him. “Uh, I mean, there’re actual dressing rooms if you’d rather go there, but ...”
“No, that’s okay. Doesn’t really matter. Everyone’s gonna see anyway, right?”
He offers a wobbly smile, uncertain and nervous as he joins Hunter in getting undressed and follows Hunter in suit, taking off whatever he takes off. First goes his shirt—finally, oh dear God, finally -- and Hunter has to hold back not reaching out to touch him. Those muscles. Chiseled and tight and smooth, holy fuck his fingers are aching to run down them. All of them. His tongue might want to even more. How can this guy be so fucking hot? How is that fair? It becomes even less fair when the pants come off.
All Hunter can think about is how beautiful Lynn is. Top to bottom. He can’t wait to get his lips back on him, touch him everywhere, make Lynn scream out his name and shake and tremble and sob out with every ounce of pleasure he’s ever felt in his life ...
“I’m so sorry, Hunter,” Lynn says, quiet and embarrassed. “That was so unprofessional of me.”