“Only a few months. It wasn’t until my last drama that I was able to afford a place like this one. Before that I lived with three guys in a two-bedroom house.”
“Your family doesn’t live nearby?” Pravat hasn’t talked about his parents or siblings. I’ve been curious.
“I don’t have any family,” he says lightly. Heading for the kitchen, he calls over his shoulder, “Would you like something to eat?”
“No, thanks. I had a big lunch with a friend this afternoon. A drink would be great, though.”
Spotting a folded easel tucked in a corner against the wall with some canvases beside it, I ask, “Do you paint?”
“If it could pay the bills, it’s all I’d be doing. As it is, acting is more lucrative for me.” He hands me a bottle of beer.
“Did you do those?” I indicate the row of paintings I noticed before.
When he nods, I say, “I’d buy them. I love the colors.”
Pravat smiles. “I’ll paint one for you when I’m finished with my current project.”
We talk about football for a while, but my eyes keep wandering to the bed.
“Is something bothering you?” Pravat asks, and I jerk my gaze back to him. “Is it the fan meeting coming up?”
“A little. More the bedroom scene we’ll be filming soon,” I admit.
“What, specifically, are you worried about?”
“That I’ll freeze up, or freak out and forget my lines, or get stiff.” Belatedly, I realize how that sounds and my cheeks heat up. “I-I mean, my body. You know how I stiffen up when I, um, when I’m nervous.” I look away, and Pravat barks out a laugh.
“Chill, it’s okay. I knew what you meant, but there’s always the other to worry about, too. Don’t be ashamed if you get a boner. It happens, although with all the crew and lights and stops and starts, not as often as you might think. I’d rather my partner spring wood than wipe their mouth after a kissing scene.”
“People do that?” I ask.
Pravat nods. “A few. If you’re really worried, we can try a few things to make it easier for you when the time comes.” Coming to stand in front of me, he holds out his hand, which I take without hesitation. It doesn’t escape me that a month ago I wouldn’t have taken anyone’s hand like that outside my family’s, especially not a man’s.Except if you were acting,I remind myself.And this is part of the job, so stop analyzingeverything.
Leading me to his bed, Pravat stretches out on the mattress. “Lie down with me.”
Slowly, I do so, maneuvering onto my side to face the windows. Pravat scoots closer, arm encircling me from behind, his scent and warmth enveloping me. Slowly, I begin to relax. Cuddling on a bed isn’t much different than cuddling on the couch or on a mat on the floor, and we’ve been doing that for weeks. But when he presses his mouth to my shoulder, I jump.
Horrified by my reaction, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Pravat says. “Get into your role. You’re Atid and I’m Kusa. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’ll love and protect you forever.”
Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out, releasing the tension. Pravat’s fingers curl around mine, the contrast of our skin like wet sand against dry. As he rubs his thumb over my wrist, blue veins move beneath his skin.
It doesn’t escape me that I am now that person in an intimate pose with Pravat in his bed that I thought of earlier. Only we’re not really lovers. What would he be like in bed? Would he take the lead? Consume me with his body like I—
I bring that train of thought to a screeching halt.
After lying with him a while, our breathing the only sound in the apartment other than the occasional whir of the air conditioner kicking on, I stop thinking entirely, seeing this for what it is: an exercise in closeness.
The next thing I know, Pravat’s gently shaking me awake, and I open my eyes to see lights glimmering over the river in the darkness.
“What time is it?” I ask, stretching.
“A bit after midnight.” Pravat rises from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. Sitting up, I check my phone and see I have a message from Chinda from several hours ago.
Where are you?
I tap out a reply.