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No traffic sounds, not even a passing car—just the breeze playing with the shutters, the distant rush of the river, and muffled voices outside.
Silence.
“He was on that website.” Oh, bloody hell. Eric hadn’t even lasted a minute, had he?
Kojo tilted his head. “What website?”
“ErosElite.” Eric scuffed a hand over the back of his neck, then crossed over to close the door. It would be just his luck to have Adrian double back for something and overhear them talking. “The, uh. The porn website we used to joke about some years ago? After Icame out to you.”
“Wait, let me get this straight.” Kojo’s grin was back, wide enough that his face was at risk of cracking apart. “He was one of the actors—”
“Models,” Eric interrupted, only to wish he hadn’t.
“Models. Okay.” Kojo seemed to savour each word. “So, he was one of the models on that porn website you liked, the one that… I think you said it wasn’t as gross as some of the other stuff out there? Like, nice locations and guys who were hot, not just hung?”
“Yeah, that one. They built at least a bit of a story around the sex, and there were photoshoots too, and behind-the-scenes stuff that could be fun.”
Kojo pursed his lips. “And you’re telling me that Adrian was one of the … models.”
“Yes.” Eric should have left it at that. He really, really should have. And yet. “Not just any model either—he was one of the stars. I kind of fancied him, to be honest.”
Kojo inhaled deeply, eyes narrowing into small slits, the line of his jaw tense with suppressed laughter.
“This,” Eric told him, “is the moment when I remind you about that time you sent a naked pic to your entire nutrition study group, and I didn’t mock you.” Not much, anyway. And only some time after the fact, when Kojo’s initial mortification had mostly turned into amusement.
“Yes.” Kojo nodded. “Right.”
And burst out laughing.
“Wanker,” Eric muttered before he realised that yeah, he’d set that one right up for Kojo—silver platter and all, might as well tie a bow around it.
“Takes one to know one,” Kojo said, complete with the fist motion. Then he sobered. “Does he know you know?”
“Pretty sure he does, what with how I couldn’t meet his eyes and blushed like a little schoolboy.”
“Aww.” Kojo made a lightning-quick attempt to pinch Eric’s cheek. Since Eric was familiar with how Kojo’s brain worked, he ducked away just in time, catching Kojo’s wrist.
“Emotional support, mate—you’re doing it wrong.”
“Oh, come on. You already feel better, don’t you?”
Maybe Eric did, a little. Not that he’d admit as much. “He’s practically our boss, Kojo. I know what his dick looks like both when it’s soft and when it’s not, and I’ve seen him fuck and get fucked, uh … a good many times. I know he’s uncut, for fuck’s sake.”
“You could offer to strip naked?” Kojo suggested. “If you’re concerned about the information imbalance, that is.”
“Why are we friends again?”
“Because you settle me, and I drag you out of your comfort zone?”
“I guess.” Eric sighed, glancing at the mildly nauseating rose pattern of the wallpaper. “Seriously, what am I supposed to do?”
“Address it with him, for one.” Kojo’s tone suggested it should have been obvious when no, it really wasn’t.
“I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘So, hey, about that time you had a lot of sex for money? Yeah, big fan.’”
“Eh.” Kojo shrugged. “I’m sure he’s heard worse.”
Jesus, Adrian probably had. He didn’t seem to be ashamed of his past, ah … occupation, for lack of a better word, so they must have treated him all right. But if he’d visited any gay clubs back then, he would have been hit on left and right by guys who recognised him. At least some of them must have expected a quick, easy fuck. Well, and the content was probably still up, so chances were that Eric wasn’t the only guy with a history of subscribing to ErosElite who’d ever passed through the hotel.
