Chapter 8

EIGHT

With only a limitedamount of time at Wodehouse Abbey, Sawyer’s shooting schedule had been grueling. Aside from industry required breaks, he’d worked nearly twelve hour days for more than a week to get as much of After the War finished as they could. A few times in the over two weeks since he’d arrived in Yorkshire, Sawyer had awakened before dawn and kept working until long after midnight.

It wasn’t just shooting either. With Start at the Beginning coming out in less than two weeks, when he hadn’t been dressed in head-to-toe Regency, hamming it up as Percy, he’d been plunked in front of his laptop, conducting remote interviews to satisfy the press as buzz over his supposedly Oscar-worthy performance grew.

But as bone-weary as Sawyer was and as little time as he’d had to focus on anything else in his life—like his dad’s constant pestering about rejoining the family painting business, his mum’s constant checks to make certain he was attending church every Sunday, which he wasn’t, and his brother Kenny sending him the most salacious tabloid stories he could find about him—Sawyer couldn’t remember being happier in his life.

It was all Casper. Having Casper there morning, noon, and night, getting to know him and discovering that he was a kindred spirit, made all the work and the strain completely worth it.

They’d just wrapped for the night, close to midnight, on the second to last day of filming. Sawyer sat in his dressing room, waiting for Vanessa to collect the costumes he was done with, scrolling through his phone. He’d saved more than a few pics of himself and Casper, and several of just Casper, but it was some of the pics that had popped up on various other people’s social media accounts that captivated him as he sat waiting.

He loved the ones tourists had taken of the two of them in Whitby. They’d had such fun that day. Sawyer grinned as he found a grainy image of the two of them laughing as they came out of the arcade. Most of the pics other people had posted were from odd angles or halfway out of focus, since they’d been trying to steal an image without being seen. There were a few of them from up at the Abbey that had been taken from a distance, along with the ones he’d posed for with fans.

But one in particular caught his fancy and had him smiling, so much so that he’d bookmarked it. Someone had brazenly taken a picture of the two of them leaning against the churchyard wall, grinning at each other with obvious affection. The lighting in that picture was surprisingly good, whoever had taken it either had a great zoom feature on their phone or had been standing nearby and they hadn’t noticed, and the composition was perfect.

Sawyer smiled at the picture, remembering the warmth of that day, and deliberately ignoring the photo’s caption, “Guys, Sawyer Kingston is so gay!”

The hair on the back of Sawyer’s neck stood up a little as he read some of the comments under that caption.

“No he’s not,” someone said. “Straight as an arrow.”

“I’ve thought he was gay for years.”

“Definitely gay.”

“I know for a fact he’s straight. He dated my sister in school.”

“Dude is straight, he’s just pretending to be gay to exploit people.”

Sawyer caught his breath at the last comment and closed the app. There were reasons why the first thing a publicist did when they were hired was to advise a celebrity to get off of social media or to create secret accounts.

Of course, the comments might not be so bad if he just got it over with and came out.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to come out publicly. He would have Casper at his side when he did, or so he assumed. He and Casper had spent every free moment together that they could, and while they hadn’t had time to talk about the whole relationship thing, he already knew he wanted to continue to see Casper once they all headed back to London in two days.

Frankly, Sawyer couldn’t imagine his life without Casper at this point.

He scrolled through a few more feeds on different social media platforms, ignoring what was being said in favor of basking in whatever pics of him and Casper he came across, until a knock sounded on the door.

He quickly hid his phone and glanced up as Vanessa stepped into the room, like he was a naughty schoolboy who shouldn’t have had his phone in class.

“I’ve just come to collect the last of your costumes,” Vannessa laughed, moving to the wheeled rack and checking it over. “You have the one you need for tomorrow?”

“Yep,” Sawyer said, getting up and tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Right over there.” He nodded to the last costume he’d need, which hung from the top of the screen.

“Bring that to the wardrobe room tomorrow before you head out to the picnic,” Vanessa told him, wheeling the rack to the door. “I’m having everything dry cleaned then shipped back to London for the rest of filming.”

“Sounds good. Here, let me help you.”

Sawyer jumped forward, helping Vanessa wheel the rack through the narrow doorway, then accompanying her down the hall to the costume room. They chatted about how things had gone, and once they got to the much larger room, Sawyer took a few minutes to help Vanessa unload his rack and some of the others. Vanessa was a powerhouse, and by the end of the whole thing, Sawyer felt like he was in her way more than anything, especially when he tripped and bumped into her and she had to practically wrestle with him to get him back on his feet.

“Thanks for your help, if that’s what you want to call it,” Vanessa laughed after they’d untangled and Sawyer headed for the door.

“Anytime,” Sawyer said.

He waved to Vanessa, then turned to the door and almost smashed right into Phillip.

“Watch it,” Phillip grunted, scowling at Sawyer. A passing crew member saw the collision and snorted a laugh as he looked at something on his phone.

“Sorry,” Sawyer apologized to Phillip. “Here, let me help you with that.”

Phillip had his own rack of costumes with him that he appeared to be returning to Vanessa. Sawyer stepped forward to help, but Phillip pushed the rack out of his way with, “I don’t need your help.”

“Oh,” Sawyer said, shoulders sinking. “Alright, then. See you, Vanessa.”

He headed out of the room, but of all things, Phillip called after him, “Wait!”

Uneasiness prickled down Sawyer’s spine, but he waited by the door, nodding to another PA as she hurried past, while Phillip handed his costumes over to Vanessa. He said goodbye to her, then strode over to join Sawyer as they left the room.

As they headed into the hall, on their way to the other wing of the house where people’s rooms were, Sawyer felt an uncanny sense of intimidation, even though Phillip hadn’t said anything. Phillip wore jeans and a T-shirt instead of his costume, and for some reason, that highlighted how fit he was and how tall. Sawyer was far from being short, but he had nothing on Phillip’s size.

Finally, after they’d walked in silence for nearly a full minute, Phillip said, “So you and the historian, huh?”

Sawyer swallowed hard, suddenly aware there were no production assistants or crew members anywhere in sight. He wondered if walking down a dark hallway alone with Phillip was such a good idea. He hadn’t gotten the impression that Phillip was an ally throughout filming, even though he was playing a gay character.

Sawyer didn’t know how to answer, all he knew was that, for some reason, his answer was important.

“Maybe,” he said after a longish pause. “We’ve gotten close during shooting.”

Phillip made a sound that managed to be both a huff and a sniff and stepped ahead so that he could turn and block Sawyer’s path. Sawyer nearly ran into him.

“Listen,” Phillip said in a low, menacing voice. “You do whatever you want on your own time, but do not jeopardize this production.” He poked a finger into Sawyer’s chest.

Sawyer fought to stand tall and not look intimidated. He was a grown man, and he refused to let anyone cow him with scare tactics.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t trembling in his boots. Gay men couldn’t afford to brush off a confrontation in a dark, empty hall that could spiral into a hate crime if it wasn’t handled wisely.

“I’m not doing anything,” Sawyer said, keeping his voice even.

His senses flared to full alertness. He was deeply aware that they were very much without witnesses in the long portrait gallery, and that there wasn’t enough light for someone who might be at one end of the hall or the other, or looking in through the windows, to accurately see anything that might happen.

“I need this paycheck,” Phillip went on, his voice and body tight. “I need this whole thing to be a hit. I don’t care whose dick is up your arse when the cameras aren’t rolling, but if you’re screwing around with people just to make a bigger name for yourself and if it backfires and messes with me, you’ll regret it.”

Sawyer blinked and leaned back. It was the most confusing threat he’d ever received. He didn’t have a clue whether Phillip was a raging homophobe or if he was hitting on him in the strangest way possible. It felt like something else was going on and he was the last to know.

“I swear, I’m not trying to do anything other than film a television series and live my life,” he said, quietly and, miraculously, steadily. He held up his hands. “If you know anything at all about me, you know I don’t talk about my personal life in the press.”

“Then you need to stop other people from talking,” Phillip said, stepping back.

Sawyer frowned, even more confused. The only thing he could imagine Phillip was talking about were the pics of him and Casper, but so few people were sharing those, and there was nothing salacious or questionable about them.

“I need this show to be a success for me,” Phillip repeated, taking another step away from Sawyer. “For me.” He glared at Sawyer for another second or two, then turned and marched on ahead, leaving Sawyer in the dark in more ways than one.

Sawyer blew out a breath as soon as Phillip was gone and shifted to lean against the wall between two of the windows, staring across at portraits of Wodehouse ancestors. Ironically, he found himself right in front of Anthony Wodehouse with his brother, Redmond Wodehouse, who was also a character in the show, right beside him.

“What was that all about?” he asked the two painted gentlemen.

Neither of the brothers had any answers for him, but it was an odd comfort to look up at the two Regency gentlemen, who had both been as gay as he was. Despite all the odds, they’d each found love and lived happily until the end of their days.

Sawyer pushed off from the wall and continued on with shaky legs. He could only hope that he’d be able to live happily until the end of his days. Hollywood was a bit like the Regency in that there were strict, unwritten rules that no one dared to ignore lest the “in” crowd, Hollywood’s answer to the ton, cut you. Phillip’s career might very well have been at stake, but so was Sawyer’s own.

The whole encounter had him prickling with uneasiness and a latent sense of fear. Not just fear that Phillip would have turned violent on him either. Phillip was just a small taste of all the things that could happen to him once the press and the world learned the truth about him. Those comments under an otherwise sweet picture of him and Casper were the tip of the iceberg of what he might have to face.

He was stuck in those thoughts as he made his way to the hallway where his room sat. Casper’s room was closer, and as he walked past, he noticed the door was opened. That drew him like a moth to a flame, and as soon as he was in the doorway, he found Casper sitting in the chair by his fireplace, reading.

Casper glanced up from his tablet and smiled. “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come to bed.”

So many things about those words were like an arrow in Sawyer’s heart. Whether it was Cupid’s arrow or something more sinister, he had yet to decide.

“Filming ran late,” he said, stepping deeper into Casper’s room, then sitting against the edge of his bureau. “And then I helped Vanessa with some costumes.”

“That was nice of you,” Casper said, still smiling. He tapped his tablet closed and put it on the table beside him. “One more day,” he continued before his smile turned concerned. “Is something wrong?”

Sawyer shrugged, letting whatever pretense of being fine he was holding onto fade. He glanced toward the door, then got up and shut it, just in case Phillip was still wandering the halls somewhere. When that was done, he walked slowly closer to Casper’s chair.

“I’ve just had a really weird and worrying encounter with Phillip,” he said.

Casper jerked straight, looking ready to murder someone. The expression didn’t look at all right on Casper, which made Sawyer smile, even as Casper said, “What did he say to you?”

“I don’t even know, really,” Sawyer said, shifting so he could sit on the side of Casper’s bed. “Just that he needs this show to be a success for him and the stakes are high and I’d better not mess it up for him. Not that anything I do with my life could ever mess things up for him.”

Casper got up and moved to sit on the bed beside Sawyer. “He’s probably just jealous of all the press you’ve been getting, since you have that film coming out in a few weeks.”

“Maybe,” Sawyer sighed. “He was definitely the bigger name when we all auditioned, but I guess he thinks I’ll be the main draw by the time the show is released.”

“That could be a year off, though, right?” Casper asked. “By then, he might be the top of the superstar heap.”

Sawyer smiled and leaned against Casper’s arm. “See, this is why we’re so good together,” he said. “You speak such sense. You keep my head from popping right off and rolling down the hall.”

Casper laughed. He adjusted his arm to both brace himself and support Sawyer’s back as he leaned into the bed. The change in posture was intimate without being predatory. “Yes, well, while you’ve been having odd confrontations with weird co-stars downstairs, I’ve been up here trying to figure out how to present myself during this interview with the Royal University of London,” he said.

“Come on,” Sawyer nudged him, turning slightly to look at him. “You’ll be brilliant. You are brilliant.”

Without thinking, he brushed a lock of hair back from Casper’s face.

He wanted to kiss him. The impulse came as a total shock to him. Usually, he wanted to get as far away as possible from a man who made him feel things. Casper was the definition of safe, though, and Sawyer wanted things from him that he didn’t think he’d want from everyone.

And then Casper said, “Do you want to spend the night?”

Just like that, the fear and uncertainty were back. Sawyer edged away from him.

“No, not like that,” Casper said, going stiff, his eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t suggesting…I mean, if you want to, I’m game, but I don’t have to…I don’t need.”

“It’s okay,” Sawyer stopped him, feeling more than a little breathless. “I know you’re not going to jump me or do anything I’m not ready to do. You just—no, that’s not right, I just surprised myself…because I want to stay.”

“You do?” Casper’s brow shot up and his eyes went wide.

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, relaxing a little and smiling. He was suddenly overcome by the sheepishness of what he was feeling and lowered his head. He peeked up at Casper, wincing slightly, and said, “I don’t want this to sound as silly as part of me thinks it might, but I could use a good cuddle right about now.”

Casper straightened and spread his arms wide. “You’re in luck. I’m an expert cuddler.”

Sawyer laughed, feeling as though everything had fallen back into place after a quick bout of turbulence. “You really don’t mind?” he asked.

“What is there to mind?” Casper asked, getting up. “Pop back to your room, brush your teeth, and put your pajamas on. I’ll do the same, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

Sawyer stood, his heart as light as air. “Sounds good,” he said, then headed for the door.

He hurried down to his room to do everything Casper had suggested, his head spinning the whole time. His hands shook a little as he undressed, then quickly scrubbed himself with a wet washcloth so he didn’t stink like he’d just finished a twelve-hour day of filming. Even if he did stink, he didn’t think Casper would mind.

Ten minutes later, teeth brushed, jammies on, and robe tied tight, he knocked on Casper’s door again.

“Come in,” Casper called from the other side.

Sawyer took a deep breath. Was this it? It felt like it. If he and Casper were any other men, he’d expect activity to rival the worst internet porn once he opened the door and stepped inside. Even though he was confident no bonking would happen, he knew they were crossing a line and taking things further. He stood in the hallway a single man, but he had a feeling that as soon as he walked into the room, he’d be somebody’s boyfriend.

With a smile, he turned the handle and crossed the line.

Casper was just pulling back the duvet. He wore boxers and a T-shirt, and when he straightened and turned to Sawyer, he smiled.

“Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” Casper asked as he slipped into bed.

Sawyer shut Casper’s door, and for good measure, he locked it before untying his robe. “I have no idea,” he said, shrugging out of his robe and draping it over the foot of the bed. “I don’t do this sort of thing. I suppose if I did, I’d be the little spoon?”

Casper laughed as he held the duvet open so Sawyer could slip in with him. “Great. Two bottoms trying to figure out how to negotiate bedroom politics. This should be fun.”

Sawyer laughed as well, but everything Casper said terrified him. “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said.

“Start at the beginning, right?” Casper teased him with the title of his film.

Sawyer laughed, relaxing as he snuggled in close to Casper. “That’s what they tell me.”

They spent a minute or so wriggling and tossing and trying to figure out what worked best before Casper finally rolled Sawyer to face the door and tucked his arm over Sawyer’s middle. With that, everything suddenly fit into place, and Sawyer felt like he’d come home.

“Sawyer, can I ask you something impertinent?” Casper asked once the two of them were warm and drowsy, and Sawyer was more comfortable than he’d ever been in his life.

“Of course,” he said, twisting to look over his shoulder at Casper with a smile.

Casper propped himself up on one arm and stared vaguely at Sawyer with a frown for a moment before taking a quick breath and asking, “Were you…were you abused or something as a young person? Is that why you don’t like…you know?” He gestured vaguely to the bed.

Sawyer sighed and rolled to his back. “No, I never was,” he said. A twist of frustration hit him, and he asked, mostly rhetorically, “Why is it that people assume anyone who doesn’t want to constantly bone like bunnies must have something dark and awful in their past?”

“I’m sorry,” Casper said, flustered. “It’s just that…I don’t know.”

“Not being hyper-sexual is, in fact, normal,” Sawyer went on, cuddling into Casper’s big spoon again to show there were no hard feelings. “I really don’t know where the idea that everyone should be horny all the time came from.”

Casper relaxed into him, slipping his arm around Sawyer and holding him close. “Neither do I,” he said. Sawyer could feel the soft smile in his voice. “It was probably the condom companies trying to make money off us poor, unsuspecting gays.”

Sawyer laughed out loud, feeling right and comfortable again.

He let himself relax, and closed his eyes as his head rested on Casper’s pillow.

“This’ll work,” he said with a yawn. “We’ll sort the rest in the morning.”

“We will,” Casper said, hugging him.

It was the most amazing feeling, to be warm and snuggly with someone you adored, but without any expectations neither of you were ready for. Sawyer closed his eyes, letting everything else fall away, certain there was nothing he wanted more than this peace with Casper.