Colin was relieved when Sunita left him instructions to meet Hamilton again at the bar. It meant order had been restored, or would be.

Colin was dressed to the nines, having been back to Barney’s for “anything but the ‘full Hiddleston’ again,” he’d said to a slightly abashed Jeremy. “And no tie this time.”

He’d been to the hair stylist for a trim, and the aesthetician for a facial, and the nail salon for a manicure and what the hell, why not, a pedicure.

And if Hamilton was surprised when he saw Colin looking like a Silicon Valley billionaire visiting Wall Street, he didn’t show it.

Hamilton sat down, clearly prepared for Colin’s apology, and ready to give it a classy dismissal, but Colin waylaid that.

“Sorry I missed our last appointment. I was out on the coast, for a thing. Nothing to write home about,” he said, having decided that he would keep his personal life private, too. It would make it easier, he realized, because when you open up to someone else with all that intimate stuff, some doglike part of you sits up eagerly, waiting for them to reward you with their own confession.

It was a new set of rules, and for a moment it hurt to be both so breezy and so cool and distant. He had a pang of regret at the end of the chummy intimacy, but… that’s how it has to be, he knew, if he was going to keep his shit together and not let himself… get obsessed with Hamilton or whatever.

“And I’ve got to go back in a few days. For a week or two. I’m not really sure when I can book you again, but I’ll call Sunita as soon as I know.”

Hamilton was nonplussed, the perfect gentleman, the professional. “Not a problem. Shall we order a…”

“No, I’m ready to go upstairs, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course.”

Upstairs, it started to play out the same way it had before, Hamilton moving to take control, pushing Colin back against the wall.

But as he took Colin’s wrists, Colin slipped from his grip.

“How do you feel about role play?” he challenged Hamilton.

Hamilton smiled. “I feel good about it. Who do you want me to be?”

“Follow my lead,” Colin astonished himself with his daring.

He had no lead, really, he was doing improv, with no clue what came next. All he knew was that he wanted to be in charge of things, of feelings, of outcomes. He was tired, sick and tired, of being swept away by people, forces, events. Of reacting instead of acting.

He regarded himself in the full length mirrors on the closet. “Undress me,” he said imperiously, as if Hamilton was his valet.

“Yes sir,” Hamilton said, picking up the cue.

Of course. The way to get over this whole Hamilton thing is to demand that Hamilton be the bottom. Because my whole illusion about him has been around Hamilton The Top. If he’ll bottom, then the magic is shattered.

What if he didn’t? What if he refused? Another awkward moment?

Colin brushed it away. Whatever will be will be, he thought with a shocking sense of freedom.

When he was down to his undies and nothing else, everything folded or hung up, Hamilton looked past him, not at him, not making eye contact. Colin wondered if Hamilton recognized that Colin was wearing the same briefs Hamilton had worn their first time together.

“Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Yes.” And now, he realized why he’d subconsciously chosen those undies, for just this reason. “Suck my cock.”

His hands hang loose at his side, his shoulders back in a military pose, and the order was authoritative.

For one second, Hamilton’s astonishment broke through his character, but only for a second, when he saw that Colin really meant it.

“Very good, sir.”

It was Colin’s turn to be astonished when Hamilton slipped out of his own jacket and hung it up properly, returning to stand before Col… before Neil Callum, Colin decided, a backstory cascading. A successful software billionaire, a “brogrammer” who’d always got what he wanted.

With a gleam in his eye, Hamilton loosened his tie and went to his knees. He reached through the Y in Colin’s underwear and pulled out Colin’s dick. Colin looked down at it with satisfaction. It wasn’t as big as Hamilton’s, but it was no slouch. Then Hamilton put his lips on it.

Colin groaned. He’d hoped, expected, that seeing Hamilton down there would break his hold on Colin, but it was only giving him a new hold, as Colin got his dick sucked for the very first time by someone who was clearly a grandmaster.

Hamilton licked his shaft, tickled his slit, then sword-swallowed all of Colin’s rapidly engorging flesh. Colin put his hands on Hamilton’s head, pushing him down to the base, and Hamilton responded eagerly. He felt Hamilton’s throat, tight on his head, and wanted to cry with pleasure.

This isn’t going as planned at all, his brain muttered.

Shut your yap, his groin replied.

Hamilton broke off only to push Colin back onto the bed, yanking his undies off before he was done bouncing on it. Hamilton stripped like lightning, and Colin stroked himself as he watched.

And when he turned away, naked, Colin looked at his ass, and with a sudden thunderous desire he declared to himself, I’m gonna fuck that.

You can’t fuck that, his brain said.

No, Colin O’Neill can’t, but… Neil Callum can. He nodded. Neil Callum taps ass, hard.

Naked at last, Hamilton returned to the bed, sliding up to Colin’s crotch to suck him some more. Colin’s eyes closed and… Neil’s eyes closed, and he let the sensations radiate from his genital core out through his body.

“Grease your ass up,” came a voice from Colin’s throat, gritty, tough.

Surprised, Hamilton came off his dick and looked up. Colin didn’t break character, and he could tell that it took Hamilton only a second to see what was happening.

There was a flash of a grin, just for a second, that…

Colin could have sworn that Hamilton had just broken character. That whoever was really in there had… That they’d had a moment that…

Then Hamilton growled. “Fuck yeah.” He manifested a bottle of lube as smoothly as he had that first time that he’d fucked Colin. Only this time it was his own asshole he was lubing up.

Colin got up and pushed Hamilton down onto the bed, down onto his knees. He found a rubber, slid it on, and found himself behind Hamilton on the bed, his rock hardness slipping along Hamilton’s ass crack.

Then, of course, he had the actor’s nightmare – what’s my line? What are any of my lines? What play am I in? Colin had never fucked a man and had no idea what to… should he just shove it in, as he’d demanded of Hamilton the first time. Should he experiment with pushing the head in and out, should he…

And, the actor’s wet dream, the other actor came to his rescue, covering for him. Hamilton reached back, took Colin’s shaft in his hand, guided it to Hamilton’s asshole, held it as he pushed back on it, slowly, taking the relaxing breaths he’d instructed Colin to take.

Then suddenly Colin was inside him, Hamilton pushing back against his hips, all the way inside him, and he waited for Hamilton to cry out and beg him to pull out, but it didn’t happen.

Colin realized that Hamilton was no virgin; his ass was tight oh my god so tight, but he hadn’t had any of the problems Colin had the first time he took Hamilton up his own hole.

After that, it was instinct, a billion years of human fucking telling Colin exactly what to do. He pushed, and Hamilton pushed back, until Hamilton had (pushy controlling bottom) established exactly the rhythm at which he wanted Colin to fuck him.

Colin held on to Hamilton’s hips, then his shoulders, and fucked him, harder, and the harder he fucked him the more Hamilton responded. And like the first time… if it was acting, it was one hell of a performance.

“Fuck yeah, hit it, oh God, yeah, fuck…” Hamilton was gone, Colin knew, and in his place was just a wild animal, just like Colin, and there was nothing but this, the pleasure of fucking, of being inside another man…

“Oh shit!” Colin shouted. He was already ready to cum. He pulled out and yanked off the rubber, and as he did Hamilton was already rolling on his back, jerking off.

“Give it to me, all over my dick,” Hamilton demanded, and Colin obliged, blowing on his partner’s hand and shaft as Hamilton used Colin’s cum as lube, his eyes dilated with frenzy at what was clearly, unmistakably a major personal kink.

“Fuck! Oh yeah!” Hamilton shouted as he came, and Colin swiped his hand across Hamilton’s belly, mixing their cum and sticking his fingers in Hamilton’s suddenly greedy mouth. He licked them clean, his glittering eyes never leaving Colin’s.

Colin fell on the bed next to him, spent. He didn’t want to say anything, for fear of breaking this spell, of breaking character. He wanted to be Neil just a little longer.

He was surprised to find that Hamilton was still in character, too, as he rolled over and laid his sweaty head on Colin’s chest. Colin stroked his hair, wordlessly, marveling at what had just happened, and yet, feeling so satisfied that for once it was enough to just be in the moment, to be present. Whoever he was, whoever Hamilton was, their bodies were real, their joy in each other’s bodies was real, and for while anyway, that was enough.