Page 60 of For the Fans
I’m sure he’s insulting me, but it doesn’t even faze me anymore. Plopping down on the couch next to Robin, I pick her up and nuzzle her head. “Her name is Robin. We just found her today—”
“Avi, this isn’t a social call,” he sighs. “Just get to the point… Why am I here?”
Placing Robin back down, I glance up at him. “I made an OnlyFans.”
His eyes widen for a second, as if maybe he was trying to bury the memory of Frankie’s party, and me bringing upOnlyFansjust resurfaced it.
“I started it a few weeks back, after we found out the money was gone,” I go on. “I’ve only been doing solo stuff, but then Frankie suggested I share the video we made with my subscribers to make some extra cash…”
Kyran slumps down into the nearest seat; a chair to my right. Shifting to face him, I watch as his fingers dig into his thighs, the tension in his extremities building visibly.
“Okay… and what does that have to do with me?” he mutters.
Alright, I guess we’re going the denial route, then.“Well, after my fans saw it, they started sort of… suggesting…” I pause and swallow. “Orbegging, really…”
“Spit it out, Avi,” he grumbles.
“They want more,” I rush the words out. “More… content like that. Only… minus the vagina.”
Kyran’s face is still as he stares at me, eyes slightly narrowed, frozen for a few generous seconds, during which I’m just blinking at him, bracing myself like it’s that last part of“Pop Goes The Weasel”before the clown jumps out at you. The only sound in the room is the muffled voice of Jerry Seinfeld saying,“These pretzels are making me thirsty.”Until eventually, Kyran’s lips twitch.
And then he bursts out laughing.
He laughs for longer than I’m finding socially acceptable. Then it dies off, and he sighs through his chuckles. “You’re an idiot.” He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll give it to you… you almost had me for a second there.”
My eyebrows jump and my head slants. “I’m not kidding.”
“Uh, yes you are,” he huffs. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Uh, no. I’m not. I’m being fully serious.” Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I bring up my OnlyFans account, holding it up to show him the screen.
He only peeks at it for a split second before his eyes are back on me, all traces of amusement in his expression having vanished. I witness the mound of his throat dip in a swallow as his back straightens.
“Dude, are you certifiable or something??” he snaps. “Why are you telling me this? We agreed that was a one-time thing, never to be mentioned again. And it was a fucking dumbass idea to begin with. The whole thing was just so…”
“Yea, yea. I get it,” I mutter. “It wasfucking ridiculous. But something about it worked, and I don’t need to tell you that. You’re thousands of dollars richer because of it, too. So you can stop acting like we forced you into something you didn’t benefit from.”
He aims one of his seething glares at me. “Fine. The money was helpful, but that’s the beginning and end of it. I don’t see why you needed to call me over here just to tell me that a bunch of creeps got off watching us…”
His words dissolve, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“I just thought you might want to know…” I murmur, then pause to figure out how to phrase this in a way that won’t have him attacking me. “They were really into you. I mean,us… together. More than with Frankie.”
“So fucking what??” he barks, clinging to his hostility like a life-raft in the middle of the sea. “We didn’t even do anything! It’s not like we…” His voice cuts out, and he swallows again.
Inching in closer, I tap on my phone, pulling up my inbox of DMs, which is full of even more guys pleading for content I’m sure Kyran is fully opposed to providing. And I show it to him.
“Look at all these messages…” I hand my phone to him.
He continues to glare at me for a moment before snatching it, eyes dropping to the screen. He’s scrolling for minutes, the aggressive lines of his face softening just the slightest bit.
“All of those people are willing to pay a shitload of money for more videos like that one. But just… us.” I’m trying to keep my tone as calm as possible, to make sure he doesn’t accuse me of trying to lure him into something.
I’m just stating facts here. I don’t like it any more than he does, but I’m willing to accept that this is the only immediate option for making the money we need.
“Us hooking up.” His gaze flits to mine. “Stop beating around the bush, Avi. You’re saying we would need to make gay porn to satisfy these fans of yours…”
“Okay, well,gay pornis a little extravagant…” I mumble.
