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    Summary

    Seven years, and Sebastian's lost track of the number of inside jokes and laughs, of early morning rehearsals and late nights filming. The camaraderie during the grueling press tours and the easiness of the banter at fan conventions. Lost track of the number of times he's had his cock inside Chris' ass, the hot, tight feel of him, how the first deep slide home always jolts through him like a punch. He's lost track of the number of times Chris has pinned him down and fucked him until he's seen stars, until he's wrung out and unable to move and still aching for more.

    Seven years and Sebastian still couldn't say when it all changed for him. When what they have started to feel...less. Like something's missing or lacking or just beyond his reach. Like that shorthand is now a shortcut. Lazy instead of comforting.

    Language:
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