Page 31 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
“Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’ll go find Sherrie and go back with her.” He turned up his nose as he looked at Dexter. “You’re lucky. I wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.” Dexter opened his mouth to speak, but Bastien shushed him then kissed Jonah on the cheek. “See you in a bit.”
Dexter gestured to a beige-looking cabin to the side of a row of Portaloos. “Come on, I’ve got ten minutes before I need to be back onstage. No one will bother us.”
Jonah could sense the number of eyes on them, averted when they passed but quickly boring holes into the backs of their heads as they made their way to the cabin. They climbed up the couple of plastic steps into a room that looked like it’d been constructed out of cardboard. Inside, a small table was placed against the wall with a tiny circular mirror propped up on top of it.
“Is this your dressing room?” Jonah asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room as Dexter closed the door behind them. “It’s super fancy.”
“Oh fuck off.” Dexter sighed. “You can’t help making a dig, can you?”
“That’s so rich coming from you, Dexter.”
“I didn’t trip you, did I? Can’t we move past this?”
“But you wanted to! You were going to before any form of sense clicked into place! It was theOliviers, Dexter. Why would you want to humiliate me like that? I didn’t even know you then, but you wanted to make me look like an idiot on the most important night of my life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“I am,” Dexter conceded. “I shouldn’t have done it. I only did it because—”
“You were jealous.”
Dexter rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. “Well, yeah. And it was childish and stupid, I know that. But, just so you know, I wouldn’t try anything like that now, not now I know you.”
“Oh? Now you know me? You’ve been awful to me this whole time. It wasn’t until you threw up all over me you seemed to change.” Jonah laughed bitterly at him. “You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you like this with me?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Dexter asked. “You really don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
Dexter groaned and dropped his hand from his neck to reach forward and grasp Jonah by the sleeve of his costume and pull him forward. They were too close; Jonah could feel Dexter’s breath whispering against his cheeks, his eyes darting across his face, trying to search Jonah for something. Dexter’s other hand found its way to Jonah’s cheek, and he ran his thumb along his cheekbone. Jonah flinched slightly at the touch before relaxing at the invasion of space. His heart thumped painfully against his chest as they looked at each other, and then, without thinking of the consequences, Jonah closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Dexter’s.
It took a moment for Dexter to respond, the tension in his body dissipating until he let go of Jonah’s costume and used his hand to cup his other cheek, kissing him softly, sweetly. Jonah’s hands found their way to the other man’s waist, pulling him closer by his belt loops so their bodies were flush, not an inch of space between them. He’d kissed Dexter before as Achilles, he knew what his lips felt like, how he moved himself and how his skin felt against his. But this, this was different; he wanted to kiss him this time. When did he start wanting to kiss Dexter Ellis? The penis destroyer—the lip biter and clothes vomiter?
Dexter’s tongue swiped across Jonah’s lips until they deepened the kiss, Jonah backing up until he hit the wall and Dexter’s body covered his, making him feel small despite their similar height. Dexter’s fingers worked through Jonah’s curls, the small gasps they made devoured by the kiss. Dexter pushed his leg between Jonah’s thighs, earning him a moan from Jonah he wanted to take back, but couldn’t. Fucking hell, what was he doing moaning in front of him like some idiot being felt up for the first time? But then Dexter moaned back, the sound guttural, needy, and the noise alone made something stir inside of Jonah. He broke the kiss, his hands pressing against Dexter’s chest, pushing him away as they both panted heavily, eyes locked on each other.
“Did I do something wrong?” Dexter asked, lips glistening, plump, more red now than pink.
Jonah shook his head. “No. No... I just...” he trailed off as a knock on the door interrupted them.
“Dexter, you in there?” a male voice sounded. “We need you onstage in two.”
“I’ll be right out,” he called, then turned his attention back to Jonah. “I’m sorry, I have to—”
“No, it’s fine, seriously, go.”
Dexter nodded. He looked like he might go in for another kiss, but he didn’t, his hands clenched into fists as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll text you.”
And for once, Jonah couldn’t wait to see what Dexter would send him.
Fifteen
“We are all hollow now.”
