Pretend With Me - Chapter 5

By Friday, I was running on fumes. Avoiding Elliot hadn’t made things easier—it only made me think about him more. And now, even Lila was noticing.

During rehearsal, she slid into the empty chair beside me, brushing her hair back with that casual elegance that made my stomach twist.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You’ve been… off this week.”

I cleared my throat. “Just tired, I guess.”

She sighed. “Me too. Honestly? I’ve been feeling like I’m not good enough for this class. Everyone’s so talented, and I’m just… there.”

I wanted to comfort her. Say something smooth, reassuring. But my brain was blank. I just sat there, awkward, gripping my script too tightly.

She gave me a small smile, then laid her head gently on my shoulder.

My whole body went stiff. My muscles locked, my breath hitched.

She felt it immediately. She lifted her head, frowning. “Seriously, Adrián? What’s wrong with you?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“With the way you’ve been looking at me the last few weeks, the things you say—I figured you liked me. I thought… maybe I could help you with it.” She shook her head. “But you’re so tense I can’t even lean on you? What’s wrong with you?”

Before I could explain, she stood up and walked away.

I wanted to sink into the floor. Another chance. Another screw-up.

By the time I got home, I was so angry at myself I couldn’t sit still. And before I knew it, I was calling Elliot.

He showed up fast, like always, leaning against my doorframe with that smug grin. “So, you made up your mind, huh?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, pacing my room. “It’s just—I don’t know how to… maintain physical contact without feeling tense.”

Elliot’s smile widened. “Luckily, you can practice with me.”

Of course he went straight to my drawer, pulled out that damn wig, and dropped onto the couch. “Let’s make this official.”

He flipped on the TV, scrolled until he found some romantic movie, and hit play. Then he held out his hand.

I hesitated. Then, slowly, I took it.

His palm was warm, steady. My hand trembled in his, but he didn’t let go. We sat there like that, the movie flickering in front of us. When he shifted closer, draping his arm over my shoulders, I swallowed hard. His body was warm, solid.

“You’re tense,” he whispered.

“I’m trying.”

“Relax. You’re doing great.”

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, the characters kissed. Without thinking, I leaned in and brushed my lips against his. Just a soft kiss. Quick.

I pulled back instantly, stuttering. “S-sorry—”

But Elliot smiled. “Don’t worry. You’re doing great.”

My chest tightened.

Then the movie changed. Clothes started coming off on screen. I blinked, realizing what was happening. “Uh oh. I didn’t know this was R-rated.”

Elliot chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. “Hey, it helps practicing for when you have that moment with her.”

We both stared at the screen as the woman slid down and started sucking the guy’s cock. My dick throbbed immediately, straining against my jeans. I shifted, trying to hide it, but Elliot leaned into my ear and whispered:

“You want me to do that?”

My heart stopped. My cock pulsed.

I turned my head, and before I knew it, our mouths were crashing together. We kissed hungrily, hands everywhere, tearing at each other’s clothes until I was naked and flushed on the couch.

Elliot kissed down my chest, down my stomach, until he was kneeling between my legs, lips brushing my dick. He looked up at me.

“You ready? You can close your eyes and pretend I’m Lila.”

I did. At first. His mouth wrapped around me, hot and wet, and I moaned her name. Tried to trick myself. But it wasn’t enough. My cock twitched, but I wasn’t fully there.

So I opened my eyes.

And watching Elliot—his lips sliding over me, cheeks hollowing, eyes half-lidded—that turned me on more than anything. My hips lifted, pushing deeper into his throat.

“Elliot,” I gasped, moaning his name now, not hers.

I pulled him up, stripped his shirt off, shoved his shorts down. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking.

“Wait—” he panted. “Lila doesn’t have a dick you can suck.”

“Shh.” I pushed him onto his back, kissing him hard. “This is your reward for being such a good friend.”

I slid down and took him into my mouth. He groaned, gripping my hair, bucking up into me. His taste, his sounds—it made me harder than I’d ever been.

We shifted into a messy 69, both of us sucking each other, moaning into each other’s cocks. His tongue worked me while I swallowed him down, our hips grinding, our throats full.

“Fuck—Adrián—”

“Elliot—shit—I’m gonna—”

We both came almost at the same time, spilling into each other’s mouths, choking on moans. I swallowed his cum without thinking, tasting him, loving it.

Afterward, we collapsed onto the couch, sticky, exhausted, the movie still playing quietly in the background.

He curled against me, head on my chest. I didn’t even pull away this time.

I just held him.

And for once, I wasn’t tense.