Cameron loved him whole-fucking-heartedly.
“I feel like I should be the one asking you that,” River retorted.
Cameron pouted at the phone. “I kind of hate it,” he confessed.
“Do you think they’ll stop at four?”
Cameron heard the hope in his voice. Rolling onto his back, Cameron stared up at the ceiling. “They haven’t said anything to you?”
“Not besides the hypotheticals. I sent another revision of the screenplay to them today. Now I’m just waiting.”
“I know you hate that part,” Cameron murmured. “To be honest, I don’t know. God, I mean, what else are you gonna put my character through? Do we really need five movies?”
Sure, it meant they were getting paid, and they had a solid job on the line, especially if they kept reprising this role, but… at what cost?
“I don’t know,” Cameron admitted again. “I don’t want to be a washed-up hack in five years, you know? I don’t want to be known for just this one role. I can do more than this.”
“And you are!” River told him. “Look at you, doing all your own stunts this time. The fighting alone is going to be so impressive. I should know; I wrote it.”
Cameron hummed a noncommital response and let the words lie.
“What do you want to be in five years then? If not Axel Stephens?” River asked.
The question was one Cam wasn’t prepared for. Everyone’s least favorite interview question: Where do you see yourself in five years?
Cameron didn’t know. “You’d be there,” Cameron started with, because it was the only certainty. “We’d be public, because the franchise would be done. We’d go to cute brunches and take pictures together and wear complimentary outfits to put the fans in a tizzy.”
“We’d look good in matcha and pink,” River said.
“I’ll be pink,” Cameron said, at the same moment River said, “I’ll wear green.”
“God, we’re cute,” Cam said, sighing.
“As for work? I don’t wanna work this hard forever. Constantly traveling, shooting, PR campaigns, photoshoots, brand deals—it’s… a lot. I sound like such an omega, but I don’t wannastopworking, just… not work as much. I love acting.”
This series exploding onto the scene felt like a stroke of luck. At first it had been a rush, thrilling, something new at every turn as he learned so much so quickly. The success was addicting, too. Cameron’s contract was… shiny. He was getting paid well for Axel Stephens and everything that came with it.
“Maybe just a break,” he continued. “Or maybe we can produce one of yours, be a famous duo, screenwriter and actor. An indie movie sounds fun.”
A pause. “You’d want to do that?”
“Of course,” Cam said, excitement filling him. “I love everything you write. I’ve always wanted to be in another romantic comedy. Do you think I’m funny?”
River snorted, then chuckled, and Cam heard the shuffle as he shook his head.
“You don’t want a normal life? On a pedestal somewhere with a pack?”
“Who’s to say a pack isn’t in our future?” Cam teased. “We can find a director and a sound designer… a light guy. A PA! We can collect ‘em all, and then produce our own movie. In house.”
“A porno?” River suggested, and Cam shouted out a laugh.
River’s laughter grew richer the more Cameron egged him on, and his heart seized. He missed him!
One would think dating the screenwriter would have its perks, but not when dating on set was practically forbidden. No one wanted to deal with the fallout of a breakup on set, especially when an omega was involved. They had to sneak around, which was fun in its own right, but sometimes Cam just wanted to go to dinner with his boyfriend.
Cam sighed, rolling over, and his abs protested. “No more action movies,” Cam declared. “I’m so sore.”
“Think of the gains,” River teased. “Do you think you’ll be able to throw me around the bedroom?” he asked suddenly, and Cameron’s lips twitched. River was no sack of flour. He was muscled and strong in his own way, and Cameron daydreamed of his tattooed arm flexing against his too-tight shirts.