It felt like Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough for Ned. The next three days flew by in a blur, but at the same time, they seemed to drag on and on. Jack definitely mentioned it a couple of times, a sly look on his face.

“You must be impatient to get to post-production,” Jack would say, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Or maybe you’re just excited for the Jerry scenes? I know he’s your favorite character.”

“What?” Tanya, overhearing, looked confused.

“Ignore him,” Ned gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched.

He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing that they weren’t filming with James for those three days. On the one hand, he didn’t have tall, blonde, and gorgeous around to distract him. On the other hand, he was going nuts with impatience waiting for his chance to see James again.

One concession that he did make for himself was getting James’ number into his phone. He had everyone’s numbers on a sheet so Tanya or someone else could call and check in if somebody wasn’t on set when they should be, but he found James’ and programmed it into his phone for the sole purpose of texting him.

He started off simple enough: Hey, this is Ned.

Then he thought maybe he should clarify and added: From the set of Catmouse.

And then he realized how stupid that sounded. How many other people named Ned could James possibly know? It wasn’t exactly the baby name of the year.

James’s reply was quick to arrive. Hey, Ned from the set of Catmouse. Having fun saving Jack from himself?

A rush of giddy excitement filled Ned. It made him feel a bit off-kilter, a little out of control for once, but in a good way.

Always, Ned replied.

After that, it just became a habit to text James occasionally throughout the day. James was clearly flirting with him, saying things like, “Hey, there’s a guy on set with a lovely, soothing voice, happen to know if he’s free Saturday?” And Ned, God help him, was helpless in the face of it, unable to do anything except respond as best he could and feel like a dork the entire time.

Saturday finally arrived, and Ned was a bundle of nerves. He changed clothes at least three times. He didn’t want to be overdressed, but he didn’t know if this was some fancy reception thing with cocktails and stuff. But then, what if he was the only one who showed up in a tie?

Jack rolled his eyes at him from the couch, where he was doing some sketches of possible film posters for Catmouse. “Just wear a button-down, Ned, for crying out loud. It’s a date, not the Oscars.”

Ned glared at him. “Easy for you to say, you always take girls out for picnics, you just need a t-shirt and a pair of beat up jeans for a picnic.”

Jack shrugged. “So bring a tie and keep it in your pocket just in case you need it.”

That was…actually a pretty good idea. Ned picked out a light purple shirt, stuffed a darker purple tie into his pocket, and wore his black jeans. He’d seen James eyeing his butt when he wore them on Tuesday, and he was planning on paying James back for all of the teasing the other man had been doing that day.

He’d given James his address, and sure enough at six, he heard a knock on the door. Ned wiped his suddenly-sweating palms on his pants and opened the door, hoping he didn’t look half as nervous as he felt.

James, of course, looked gorgeous. Ned had been expecting that, but it was as if the past few days away from James had made Ned’s image of him stale in his mind, black and white or sepia-toned rather than in full, glorious color. He was wearing those dark, ass-hugging jeans again, the bastard, although Ned couldn’t really complain about that seeing as he had picked his own black jeans specifically because he’d seen James sizing him up while wearing them. Ned was glad to see that James was wearing just a simple button-down as well, no tie, casual. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You ready to go?” James made no qualms about raking his eyes up and down Ned’s body, giving a small smile like he couldn’t resist looking at Ned this way, drinking him in like a tall glass of water.

“Yeah,” Ned said, wincing inwardly. Why was he unable to be eloquent?

James winked at him. “Let’s go then.”

Ned followed him out the door, yelling goodbye at Jack over his shoulder.

“Stay safe!” Jack yelled at him.

Ned leaned back into the apartment just so he could flip him off.

“What?” Jack asked, looking innocent. “I meant driving, jeez.”

“You didn’t, and you know it,” Ned muttered to himself, closing the door behind him.

A large, warm hand slipped into his and Ned’s heart skipped a beat. James’ hand in his was just large and calloused enough to make him feel small and fragile, in a good way—a cared-for sort of way.

He followed James, or rather the soft tug of James’ hand, down the steps of their apartment to James’ car.

“I’ve never been to this place at night before,” Ned admitted as they climbed into the car. “I’ve also, uh, never been on—I mean, I’ve been on a date, it’s just been a really long time. So, if I’m awkward, then I apologize.”

James smiled at him across the car, then leaned in and gave Ned a soft kiss, the lingering, “hello, how are you” kind that Ned hadn’t had in…God knew how long. “I’m kind of new to this, too.”

“Is that why you’re sending flowers? Getting your tips from romance novels?”

James laughed. “No, from my roommate. She said muted colors would be best. Was she right?”

Ned found himself blushing. “Yes, she was.” He normally would have continued to tease James, but the fact that James had asked his roommate for advice and gotten him flowers and bothered to actually try to ask Ned out properly was incredibly sweet.

“This isn’t a fancy reception or anything,” James said, pulling out onto the street. “It’s just this light and color thing they’re incorporating, but I thought that you might enjoy it.”

“I appreciate it.” Ned let himself smile instead of trying to fight it down for once, settling back to watch James drive.

They parked down in the structure and took the tram up, James placing a guiding hand on Ned’s lower back as they stood together. Ned leaned back into the touch, trying not to grin like an idiot. The few dates and one night stands that he’d been on hadn’t had this casual, easy way of touching. Touch was a means to an end, a swift road to sex, rather than simply touching for the sake of touching. James seemed like a tactile person, and Ned relished it.

“I didn’t peg you for the type to know a lot about art,” Ned admitted as they stepped out of the tram and up to the museum entrance.

“Maybe I just wanted to take you to a nice, quiet place so I could make out with you in the dark corners.”

That devilish feeling rose up in Ned, the desire to be wild and daring and say what he was thinking. He ran his eyes appreciatively and blatantly over James’ form, making it clear what he was thinking about. “But I thought we weren’t supposed to touch the masterpieces.”

James laughed, low and dangerous, then leaned in so that his mouth was right next to Ned’s ear. “Well, somebody’s gotta pin the art to the walls.”

Ned shivered at the sound of his voice, but grinned in appreciation at the line. “Smooth.”

James laughed and took his hand again, leading him up the steps and into the museum.

There wasn’t much time for talking as they were treated to a beautiful light and color display against the sides of the marble buildings, a presentation of Van Gogh and other artists with their paintings in huge, animated technicolor surrounding them, placing them right in the center of the paintings themselves. It was like stepping forward into the paintings and getting to be a part of them, and it took Ned’s breath away. He had never been a serious art student, but he’d enjoyed the art history classes that he’d taken in college for his general education requirements, and he had always enjoyed going to museums growing up. They were quiet, but not in the same way his house was quiet. That was too quiet, disconcertingly quiet, quiet because if you spoke it turned into shouting and arguments. Museums were quiet in a soothing way, everyone being quiet out of respect and a shared, hushed experience. It was almost reverent.

And this presentation—it was literally breathtaking. Ned had no idea how they managed to pull it off with the technology, but he found himself forgetting to breathe a couple of times as he watched the lights change and shift into a new painting.

“That was amazing, literally, I am amazed,” Ned said, grabbing James’s arm and, for once, not second-guessing the action.

James was grinning at him as if Ned was the one who was amazing, and Ned didn’t know what to do with that, so he just pointed toward one of the galleries. “Shall we?”

They walked into one of the nearest galleries, one on Medieval Art, and Ned was amazed when James immediately started talking to him about it, explaining triptychs and the symbolism behind the various seemingly random objects in the paintings and how the tapestries were made. “How do you know so much?”

James shrugged. “I grew up in a tough neighborhood. The two safest places for me to hang out were at the local art museum and the library, so I spent most of my time there. My older brother, Matt, made me promise to keep to my own business and not get involved with any of the gang activity in the area.”

It sounded like something so foreign to Ned’s own experience, he honestly couldn’t relate. “That sounds pretty tough.”

“It was,” James acknowledged, “but it meant I got to learn a lot. I did a lot of reading, spent a lot of time around art. It could have been a lot worse. I got involved with community theatre when one of the librarians asked me if I could step in and take on a small role, and I just fell in love with it.” He gave a small, shy smile, ducking his head as his cheeks went pink. “I never looked back.”

“It’s impressive,” Ned assured him. “Staying out of trouble and raising yourself up like that.”

“I didn’t have it as hard as some kids,” James pointed out. “I think it helped that I knew that I didn’t exactly fit in.”

Now that Ned could relate to. “I felt the same way. I just…knew that something was separating me from the others.”

“Exactly. It was nothing I could put my finger on for a while, and then I realized that it was the way they talked about women, and from there…”

“It just became a secret.”

James nodded. There was a moment of heavy silence, and then James broke it by giving another one of his winks and a smile. “It worked out in the end for us, didn’t it?”

Ned smiled back, fearful that he couldn’t have kept it off his face if he’d tried. “It did.”

“What about you?” James asked, leading them further along the gallery. “Do you have any siblings?”

“I was an only child,” Ned admitted. “My parents…we came from money, so I didn’t lack for anything. I grew up in Malibu for crying out loud.” He laughed, feeling a little self-conscious. “They never showed me any affection though. They hated each other, but I think I would have preferred their hatred and yelling if it was directed at me, rather than their sheer indifference. They just didn’t care.”

“That’s why Jack and I are so close, actually. I’m not surprised that you thought we were dating. You’re not the first. People either think we’re dating or we’re related. I’d never had a close friend until Jack, and growing up I’d always dreamed of getting a brother or a sister, someone that I could finally show affection, someone that loved me, since my parents obviously didn’t care. Jack is that for me.”

“I’m glad that you two have each other,” James said, sounding completely serious and focused on Ned.

“And I’m glad that you have your brother,” Ned replied.

“I have my mom, too,” James added. “I’d…I said she’d be my date to the premiere. I think she’d like you. I don’t mean this in a big, ‘meet the parents’ way, but I’d like you two to meet. I think you’d get along.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“I, uh, think I get my touchiness from her, so if I’m doing too much of it—”

“No!” Ned said, so quickly that James gave him an odd look. “I mean, no, not at all. I like it. It’s nice that you’re not…”

“Ashamed?”

Ned nodded.

James smiled. “Well, I’m glad that you aren’t either.”

He took Ned’s hand again, and Ned was starting to wonder if he would ever get used to the feeling or if he would always get this sense of wonder and amazement when it happened, a giddy whoosh in the pit of his stomach.

“You know,” James murmured, “I believe we both made some promises about masterpieces and putting art against the walls and such?”

“As I remember it, you were the one who made the most promises,” Ned pointed out.

“Did I?” James looked thoughtful for a second, exaggerating it a little by jutting out his bottom lip and squinting his eyes. Then his face relaxed into a smile, the same kind that he’d given Ned when he’d pulled that stunt with the water bottle at the craft services table. “I believe I did.”

He used his hold on Ned’s hand to pull him in and slid another hand around Ned’s waist to his lower back, pressing their bodies together the way they’d been in the wardrobe tent—only this was better, no one else in the gallery with the soft lighting, nobody to interrupt them, and beautiful paintings all around them. All right, so the images of the Virgin Mary looked a little like they were judging him, but that was probably just Ned’s imagination. James kissed firmly, determinedly, like he wanted to make Ned weak at the knees. He was definitely succeeding. Ned brought his hands up to James’s shoulders and held on tightly, unsure that he wouldn’t just fall to the floor if James was to let go of him. He wanted James’ hands everywhere, wanted nothing but skin between them, but he also just wanted this to keep going forever.

Thank God one of them had some self-control, that person being James and not Ned—Ned was pretty sure his self-control was scattered somewhere on the floor—because James pulled back finally. His eyes were wide, the bright brown of them almost swallowed by the black of his pupils, and his mouth was thick and red from kissing. Ned was seriously debating finding them a dark corner somewhere in the gardens or one of the balconies to keep making out in, but James firmly took his hand and started leading him out of the gallery.

“What, seen all the art already?” Ned teased, feeling a little giddy.

“If we don’t get somewhere private,” James replied, calm and casual like they were discussing the weather, “I’m going to get both of us arrested for public indecency.”

Ned’s entire body stuttered, making him nearly trip, and he had to hang on to James’ hand for support. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he hissed.

“Why? It makes you blush, and it’s adorable,” James said, grinning at him and bringing a hand up to run his knuckles gently along the curve of Ned’s jaw and the side of his neck, the areas where Ned knew he was blushing bright red.

“You’re lucky you’re a good kisser or you’d never get away with calling me adorable,” Ned warned him.

James yanked him in, giving him a long, lingering kiss. “Guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you of my skills, then, hmm?”

Ned spared a moment to think of how many people might be watching them right now, thinking they were one of those disgusting couples who were all about public displays of affection and being all cute and cuddly with each other, but he didn’t mind. He’d never really gotten a chance to be a part of a couple before, certainly not with someone as tactile and open as James, and he wasn’t going to let it go just because he was worried some old people might be glaring at him.

They were clearly the first people to be leaving, so they had the tram back to the parking lot all to themselves. Ned wasted no time, crowding James back into one of the seats and straddling his lap so that he could kiss him again. Now that he was in James’ lap he had a height advantage and could angle James’ head just how he wanted it, licking deep into his mouth. James didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, if the growing hardness against Ned’s hip was any indication, and the rumbling groans that Ned could feel against his chest from James made him want to start grinding down and make this even more indecent than it already was.

“I have to admit,” James whispered, interspersing his words with little sucking kisses along Ned’s jaw, “I did not peg you for this when I first saw you, all buttoned up and everything in the audition room.”

Ned remembered how he’d seen James that day and how it had felt like someone had slapped him in the face. “You were—I don’t even know. I think my brain stopped working.”

James laughed right into Ned’s mouth, kissing him again. God only knew what whoever was running the tram thought of them. If there was someone running the tram. Was it automatic? “You were handsome, no other word for it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get you to go out with me so easily.”

“You were very persuasive,” Ned replied, grinning like an idiot.

The tram stopped, and James lifted Ned up a little so he could stand. The simple action made Ned realize that James was, well, ripped. He worked out. If he could just lift Ned like that to get him off his lap on the tram, how easy would it be for him to lift him against a door or the wall of a shower…

Ned really, really hoped that James’ roommates were out for the night, because he knew for a fact that Jack planned on having an Alfred Hitchcock marathon back at their apartment. Ned wasn’t quite cruel enough to kick him out just so that he could have sex with James. Although he was sorely tempted.

They got to their car, and Ned was glad that James had parked them in an out-of-the-way corner far from the elevators, because that meant Ned could brace himself back up against the car and pull James toward him, trapped between the car and James’ solid body. He loved that he and James were the same height—it meant all he had to do to kiss him was tilt his head a little and then slide his tongue in, nice and slow. James growled and thrust his hips up against Ned’s, showing how hard he still was.

“Is your apartment empty?” Ned asked, tugging at the bottom of James’ shirt so that he could run his hands up the hot, smooth skin of James’s stomach and back.

“Fuck, no. Yours?”

Ned let his head fall forward onto James’s shoulder. “Dammit, Jack’s going to be in all night.”

“Sophie’s a homebody, and she doesn’t have work. I can’t kick her out.”

Ned wanted to punch something in frustration. He wanted James so badly he could hardly think straight. It was all he could do not to just spread his legs right then and there.

James must have been having a similar thought, because he said, “Y’know, we did leave pretty early.”

His thumb was rubbing circles into Ned’s hip, the movement probably designed to soothe him but only serving to fan the flames of heat building up inside of his body. He had to force his hips to stay still and not grind wildly against James.

“There might be security cameras,” Ned said, not even pretending to not follow James’ line of thought.

James craned his neck around. “I saw one by the elevators, but I think we’re in a blind spot here.”

A part of Ned couldn’t believe that he was even considering this, but that part was being rapidly drowned out by the idea that if they did this, Ned wouldn’t have to wait until God knew when to finally get James inside of him. All right, yes, he was a cliché, wanting the totally fit guy to top him, but who the hell cared when James was gorgeous and willing and wanted to hold his hand as well as sleep with him?

Ned pushed James away so that he could give himself room—if they were going to do this there definitely wasn’t enough room inside the car, so the hood would have to do. James had a moment of hurt cross his face, then he saw that Ned was moving to perch himself on the hood, and realized what he was doing. James grinned, quick and wicked, and oh, Ned would have done any number of things to see that grin again and again.

He let James push him back onto the hood and put his weight on him, spreading his legs so that James could fit in the cradle of his hips. He decided it had been far too long since they’d kissed, and rectified that by hauling James in and kissing him for all he was worth. James fumbled with their pants, his hands sliding up and down Ned’s sides underneath his shirt like he kept getting distracted by the feel of Ned’s skin. Ned currently had his hands running up and down James’s back, so he could relate.

“I don’t think,” James said, gasping into Ned’s mouth, “I don’t think we can do—the things I want to do to you, fuck, it’ll take too long—”

“Just like this,” Ned said, realizing that James was right. He reached down and palmed James’ ass, pushing their cocks together. His hips jerked in pleasure at the pressure and slide of it. “Just like this, this is fine.”

“Better than fine,” James replied, and then he pulled back and held his hand up to Ned’s mouth. “Lick.”

Ned took James’ wrist in his hand and licked a long stripe up the palm before sucking each of James’s fingers into his mouth. James made an embarrassing nnngghh sound, his mouth open and panting as Ned took his time. Finally James pulled his hand back, sputtering “Fuck—okay, I need—your fucking mouth, Ned, seriously—”

It made Ned smirk, feeling victorious, until James—who had apparently unbuckled both of their pants while Ned was distracted—was able to pull out their cocks and wrap his hand around both of them. Ned’s head fell back against the hood of the car and he groaned, digging his nails into James’ back and arching desperately up into the feel of James’ cock against his and James’ tight hand around them both.

He wanted more, wanted to take his time and do things like suck James off until the other man was yanking at his hair and begging him to stop before it was all over too quickly, wanted to let James stretch him open slowly and surely until he was flipping him over and sinking down into him all in one slow, smooth glide. He wanted to bite his way down James’ chest and feel the power of those damn arms and ride him until they were both covered in sweat. But this wasn’t the time or the place for that, and anyway Ned didn’t know if he had the patience. Thanks to their filming schedules, who the hell knew when they’d get a chance like this again, and he was so ready to come he could practically taste it in the back of his throat.

“I want to see you,” James whispered, and Ned realized that he had closed his eyes. “Let me see you, Ned, please.”

James sounded utterly wrecked, his hand still moving over them both in a steady rhythm, and Ned chanced a look down to see where they were joined. It felt a little surreal, and he knew that they could get caught and arrested at any minute but he really didn’t care, not when he could see how they slid against each other, in and out of James’ hand, and the urge to just let his head fall back was almost too much to resist—but then James got his other hand up behind Ned’s head to cup the back of it, fingers tangling in his hair, forcing him to look up into James’ bright, brown eyes.

“Please, fuck,” Ned gasped, not even really knowing what he was saying. “I want, I want, you—James, dammit—”

“The moment I saw you, I wanted to wreck you,” James admitted. “You were so—so put together, and beautiful, and I thought, I’d give anything to just see you wrecked, to do this, fuck, just like this with you…”

Ned almost tore James’ shirt, yanking it up so that he could rake his nails across the skin he exposed, snagging on a nipple and making James moan, craning his head up to swallow that moan and others, sucking on James’ tongue and eating up every sound like he needed it to survive. It felt like his skin was on fire, everything draining down until he was just the live wire connected to James, James’ cock and James’s hand, James’ mouth and tongue against his, their chests bumping together and their breaths harsh and panting in the semi-cold stale air of the parking structure.

“We’re totally going to get arrested for this,” Ned laughed, feeling slightly hysterical with the sheer electricity lighting him up inside. “And I don’t care, I don’t care, fuck, just keep doing that—”

And he really didn’t care, he didn’t, didn’t care about anything except for this. He clutched at James, arching up, hips thrusting, dicks slicked up with their own precum and spit and oh, God, he was coming, completely ruining both of their shirts, biting down hard enough on his lip that he drew blood to keep from yelling. It was all white noise and hot, liquid pleasure, and then he could feel James tightening his grip and his movements becoming jerky and rapid and uncoordinated as he came as well, doubling the mess around them.

“We did not think this through,” Ned admitted, his chest heaving. “We’ve ruined our shirts.”

“I don’t care,” James said, planting a messy kiss on Ned’s lips.

“Even if a security guard comes down here or something and we get put in prison for this?” Ned replied, running his hands through James’ hair to mess it up a little more—and because James seemed to like it, closing his eyes and tilting his head into the touch as Ned gently scraped his nails along James’s scalp.

“Even then,” James informed him.

“We’re getting a bed next time,” Ned said. “My back can’t take much of this.”

James laughed and helped him up. “I’m sorry, I was way too impatient.”

“I think you’ll notice that I was saying things along the line of ‘yes’ and ‘come on’ rather than ‘no,’” Ned pointed out.

“I think there are some napkins in here,” James said, unlocking and opening the car and pulling some napkins out of the glove box.

They cleaned themselves up as best they could, breaking into laughter every so often when they caught each other’s eyes. “I haven’t done something like that since…” Ned thought back. “A couple years ago, I think.” He’d sometimes gotten off in the men’s restroom at the clubs and bars he would go to, like a classy person, but that had been before work with Jack had really picked up and Ned had gotten disenchanted with trying to find someone at a club for just a one night stand.

“I haven’t felt this reckless since my freshman year of college,” James confided. “Here.” He tossed Ned a sweater. “I brought it in case of the cold, but now you can put it on instead of your shirt.”

“What about you?” Ned asked, eyeing the mess on James’s shirt.

“I’ll be fine,” James assured him, reaching forward to wipe at Ned’s chin and neck with a napkin.

Ned felt like his limbs were liquid, heavy, and he was glad that he wasn’t the one driving. “If I fall asleep on you, I’m sorry.”

James laughed. “I plan on you falling asleep on me plenty in the future.”

Ned felt heat creeping up his neck, unaware of the innuendo he made until James pointed it out. “I’m not usually this flirty, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh good, I was starting to worry that you were like this with all the cute boys.”

“Just you,” Ned replied, smiling.

James drove back one-handed, his other arm stretched out so that his hand could rest on Ned’s thigh. Ned put his hand over James’, interlocking their fingers, and a few times Ned had to squeeze James’ hand to reassure himself that he was, in fact, awake and actually experiencing this rather than just having a rather realistic fever dream of some kind.

He would blame it on the post-coital glow later on, but for now, he just felt like telling the truth, sharing in a way that he usually didn’t. He knew that people tended to joke he was the robot, the logical one, the superego to Jack’s ID, but he did have emotions. He just didn’t usually like to share them.

“You know,” Ned said, lolling his head to the side so that he could look at James’ profile against the streetlights that zoomed past them, or rather that they zoomed past, “you may be the most genuinely sweet person I’ve ever met.”

James blinked rapidly, as if he had just been hit by a beam of light. “Seriously?”

Ned nodded. “This was a really lovely date. I haven’t been this amazed by something in years. I liked listening to you talk about art. And you…” Ned struggled to find the words. “Okay, I’m going to get sappy on you.”

“You’re talking to the guy who sent you flowers. Bring it on.”

“I like that you touch me,” Ned said, quietly. “I mean, some of it’s my fault, I don’t really invite touching. Ask anybody. If someone meets me and they go to hug me rather than shake my hand, I back away. I don’t like it. But with certain people, people that I’m comfortable with, I do like it. A lot. My parents weren’t very tactile people, so maybe it’s because of that. That’s why you’ll see Jack hug me a lot. He knows I need it. I like that you do that.”

“When I first got to college,” James said, “and I was finally in an environment where I felt comfortable fully being myself, I found out that a lot of guys were touchy just to get something from me. I know that sounds really jaded, but it felt like they only touched me when they were flirting with me. Same with women, until they found out I was gay. It was like touch was just a means to an end. I wanted to hold someone’s hand, not just have sex with them, you know? But people would say things like ‘that’s too much PDA’ and stuff. In my opinion, PDA is like…you’re making out in public, not cuddling in public, you know? So I just…stopped touching people, because they thought I wanted to sleep with them, and I stopped letting them touch me. But with you, I don’t know, I just want to, all the time.”

“Even on set?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who gave me a shoulder massage in front of the entire crew,” James pointed out.

“That was just a friendly way to help you loosen up for the scene,” Ned replied, knowing that his excuse sounded feeble even to himself.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” James said, grinning. James had a thing for smiling and winking, Ned thought. He liked it. It felt like he had to be serious all the time, especially when it came to balancing out Jack’s bigger flights of fancy. James wasn’t like that at all. He was serious, but also lighthearted, grinning at everything and throwing Ned winks like they were little candies, promises, and assurances all packed into one.

“Having you with me would help me sleep at night,” Ned blurted out.

James laughed. “That was a terrible one.”

“As a certain gorgeous blonde recently told me, when a guy gives you flowers he has no right to complain.”

“Using my own words against me already, ouch.”

“I do, though,” Ned said, his voice quieter. “I wish I could drag you into my bed.”

“Soon,” James promised him. “Things are hectic with scheduling right now, and I still have school.”

“Speaking of which,” Ned said, sitting up, “you don’t look like you’re twenty-two or whatever. You look more like my age.”

“What’s your age?”

“Twenty-seven.”

James nodded. “I’m twenty-six. I was held back a couple of grades, and I’ve had to take some extra semesters at the college because I’m working to pay my loans. It’s been a bit of a long road.”

“And you’re doing this while filming with Jack?” Ned had seriously underestimated the guy. “Well, now I don’t feel as bad about getting it on with you in the parking lot.”

“Hey now, five years isn’t that much of a difference.”

“You’d be surprised, the maturity difference between a freshman in college and a senior in college might as well be a decade.”

“True,” James acknowledged. He glanced over at Ned. “What?”

Ned tried to tamp down the stupid, glowing bubbling feeling in his chest, but couldn’t. “You’re amazing,” he said, simply.

James laughed nervously, shaking his head as his cheeks went pink. “You’re just—no. I’m just trying to get by like the rest of us.”

“You grew up in a tough neighborhood and instead of getting involved in gangs, you went to the art museum and the library. You didn’t give up on college even though you had to take semesters off and work full time while you were doing it, and you’re here, starring in a professional film, while you’re in your final semester. That sounds pretty amazing to me.”

“What about you?” James countered. “You’re keeping Jack on track and organized, you’ve got the entire schedule and everyone’s numbers memorized in your head, you’re keeping Tanya sane, and you’re dealing with coordinating everything from the post-production schedule to interviews to God knows what. I still don’t fully know how your job works, and frankly I’m a little scared to find out since I’m already pretty much convinced that you’re a demigod or something.”

“I think,” Ned said, slowly, thinking back to some internet post or something that he’d seen once, “That this is how it’s supposed to go for couples. Each one thinking that the other person is far too good for them and thinking about how lucky they are to be with them.”

“So, we’re a couple now?” James asked, hope shining in his eyes.

“I just let you get me off in a parking lot where we could have been arrested at any second for public indecency,” Ned pointed out. “I don’t let just anybody do that.”

“I’ve never been a part of a couple before,” James said, and in that moment, he sounded so young and sweet, Ned just wanted to wrap himself around him and protect him and keep him safe always.

“I haven’t really either,” Ned admitted. “We’ll figure this out together, I guess.”

James squeezed Ned’s hand. “Sounds like me.”

“Sounds like what?”

James looked like he was struggling not to laugh. “You said that I’m amazing, and I think this sounds amazing, therefore, it sounds like me.”

Ned smacked him lightly on one of his well-muscled arms. “Just for that, I’m going to make sure all the coffee is gone from set when you get there.”

“Promises, promises,” James said, but he squeezed Ned’s hand again, and Ned’s heart felt an answering squeeze, and oh, he was in so much trouble.