Page 111 of Felix

My laugh is pained. “Yeah, I love you. Were you lying when you said you love me, too? Because, if not, I think I deserve a ki—”

Emil’s lips cut off my remark, and I let out a whimper, tugging him in tight, trying my very best to fuse our lips together. The pain that was twisting tight in my chest ever since Emil fled into the shower stall finally unfurls, bringing with it that same swoop of joy I felt when Emil first uttered those words, “I fucking love you.” My gorgeous kinky neighbor. My shy exhibitionist. My remarkable boyfriend with the big brain and the even bigger heart.

“Fuck, I love you,” I mumble against his mouth.

His sound is equal parts happiness and aching relief. “You do.”

Another laugh. “Yes, I do.”

“I do, too,” he says, his hands shaking against the sides of my neck.

“Yeah, I kinda got that,” I mutter affectionately.

He huffs a laugh between kisses. “God, Christian, the tutu is hot.”

“There he is,” I say, kissing one corner of his mouth and then the other. “You back with me, Specs?”

“Sorry I jumped into the shower with all my clothes on,” he mutters against my lips.

I nearly snort. “Uh-huh.”

“I was scared.”

I let out a breath, tucking my face against his neck and hugging him tight. “I know. You don’t have to be.”

“I know that. I do,” he says just as quietly. “It’s just… I’m still a work in progress, okay? I might fuck up sometimes.”

I lean back enough to catch his eye. “I think you’re lovely.”

Emil’s gaze pings between my eyes, so very soft, a little trepidatious in a way I think comes from years of falling by the wayside. Of feeling unseen and, by extension, unloved. “Don’t give up on me,” he says, almost too quietly for me to hear.

“Never,” I promise.

He lets out a breath, eyes closing. But then his entire body stiffens. “Oh my God,” he mumbles. “Oh…my God. Are we… Are we still filming?”

A throat clears nearby, and Emil’s eyes pinch further shut.

I bite my lip before looking to the side. The entire crew is standing silent, watching us. The light on the camera is off, but I’m guessing at least part of that was caught before they shut it down. Maybe I should feel a little more apologetic, but I can’t quite find it in me to care.

“No,” I say gently, giving the side of Emil’s neck a squeeze. “We’re not filming.”

He winces, looking pained.

“Gentlemen,” Jerome drawls. Emil finally opens his eyes, although it looks as if it takes considerable effort to do so. “If I didn’t have a chat room full of viewers practically creaming themselves for the chance to watch two boyfriends in love getting it on in my studio, we’d be having words right about now.”

“Sorry, Jerome,” Emil mutters, his voice quiet but carrying in the otherwise silent room.

Jerome raises a brow, arms crossed, but I swear he doesn’t actually look upset. “I’ll send you the clip for your wedding. That’s twice now. Videographer fees can be forwarded to Nathaniel.” I’m fairly certain he’s joking, but he goes on quickly. “We’re done for today. Can I tell your avid fans you’ll be back next week?”

I glance at Emil, who blushes but nods.

Grabbing his hand, I say, “Yeah. We’re on for next week.”

“Beautiful,” Jerome says dryly. As he turns to walk away, he mutters, “First Dix and Adonis, and now this. Nate,” he practically barks. Nathaniel heads his way. “Tell me why we spent so much effort on producing fake boyfriend videos last year? Maybe we should get some real couples in here. People eat this shit up.”

Jerome’s voice fades as he and Nathaniel head out of the studio. Once the door closes behind them, the rest of the crew snaps to, conversation starting up again as our coworkers begin disassembling the set.

Marco gives us a grin, his boom resting against the floor. “Super cute, you two. Congrats.”

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