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Sentimental Value
Chris hated the sink in his dressing room. It took forever for the water to go down, and it was so old that he was pretty sure it would never meet any of the standards that plumbing people went by. He didn’t know what any of those standards *were* but he was positive that they existed and his stupid sink didn’t meet any of them.
It sat next to the doorway, three feet from the bathroom, completely out of place and, quite honestly, the stupidest thing he’d ever seen.
But he didn’t complain. Because, even if the sink didn’t work for shit, it still had one redeeming quality.
Sometimes Emily would come into his dressing room, and they’d practice lines or just talk or whatever and she’d lean against the white porcelain and Chris would have to hide his grin.
Because it was where he and Greg had fucked for the first time.
~*~
He’d just finished a flashback scene with Emily and Mike and, when he’d gotten back to his dressing room, and caught Greg loitering outside of his door, he had invited him in. The three of them had been in their bathing suits, but it wasn’t like Chris cared. Mike was taken and he really didn’t like Emily that way.
Chris really couldn’t get past the whole thing where she was his sister.
But it seemed that Greg had cared. “Listen, um…Chris. I know…uh.” He’d blushed so prettily. Chris had grinned at how uncomfortable he was.
“Spit it out, Smith.”
Greg leaned against the sink. He’d made such a pretty picture there – lips shiny where he’d licked them, hair all spiky and his t-shirt stretched across his chest. It had been all Chris could do to not jump him.
He always tried to refrain from attacking his co-stars unless they made the first move. Greg had always given him vibes, but nothing concrete, and it wasn’t like Chris wasn’t obvious about things but most of the cast knew that Chris was bi-sexual. Mike and Emily both knew and he was sure that if Greg had wanted to figure it out, he could.
So he did nothing but look. Looking was completely allowed. Even leering was allowed as far as Chris was concerned. Sometimes he flirted shamelessly just to see what kind of reaction he’d get from Greg.
But, apparently, on the day in question, he’d pushed Greg too far.
Or just the right amount, if you wanted to look at it that way.
Greg had nervously bit his lip. Looking down at his sneakers, he’d whispered, “I know that you want me. I want… can we…”
Chris had just gaped at Greg for a few seconds before he’d started to laugh. That really hadn’t gone over well. Greg had scowled and tried to leave. “I didn’t say leave. And I didn’t say no. You just really caught me off guard.”
Greg had finally quit scowling and moved back to the sink. “Uh. So can we? You’re really hot, Chris and… Emily said you wanted me and Mike even agreed. And I sound like a teenage girl here, Chris. You could stop me anytime.”
“Your babbling is kind of cute.” Chris had moved closer and pressed Greg’s hips into the sink with his own.
The gasp from Greg felt like it vibrated through him. He wanted him entirely too much.
“Two rules. This doesn’t come between us, and you don’t tell anyone. No weirdness on the set.”
Greg had nodded and tipped his head up for a kiss. Chris groaned as he twisted the lock on the door before brushing his lips across Greg’s.
~*~
Chris smiled as he remembered. It hadn’t been the only time they’d fucked in his dressing room, but it remained the only time they hadn’t been able to wait until they got to the couch. Or the chair, or on one occasion, the floor.
Greg had kissed him fervently, so caught up in trying something new that he hadn’t noticed as Chris had undressed him. They’d both been naked before Greg had pulled back and stared. His cock had been so hard that it had only taken a few strokes of Chris’ hands to get him to come.
Chris had used it to slick his way into Greg’s ass. He’d begged with his eyes for Chris to fuck him, begged with his pretty mouth and eager hands, and there’d been no denying him.
Greg had twisted around and leaned over the sink, presenting himself. Beyond words, but his body had known what to do. Chris had started slowly, unsure of the sink’s stability, until he just hadn’t cared.
Little whimpers had escaped Greg’s bitten lips and he was hard again. Chris had concentrated on keeping himself quiet, and keeping up a rhythm that had stabbed into Greg’s prostate on every stroke.
Chris had tried to prolong it, tried to wait, but Greg’s hot little body had pulled the orgasm from him. It was all he could do to keep the screaming to a minimum. Greg had come again at some point; come dripping down his cock and Chris had leaned heavily onto him when he’d finally come.
Their harsh breathing filled the room until there had been a knock at the door.
“Chris? Is Greg in there with you?” It was Emily. “He’s supposed to be on the set in ten minutes for the hospital scene.”
Greg looked panicked for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “I’ll be there. We’re just… finishing some um…”
“Uh… I don’t think I want to know. Just… Be there or someone who does care will be looking for you.”
Chris chucked and gently pulled out.
It turned out the sink had other uses, too. The hot water spigot was too hot, and the cold was too cold, but eventually, they’d managed to clean themselves up.
~*~
He’d never get rid of the sink. Maybe when the show ended he could get it moved to his house.
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