Sleeping next to Izuna was a dream.

I didn't know sleeping next to someone could be a dream. It had always been so mechanical to me. This wasn't.

We didn't have sex. We didn't even have a makeout session. We crept into bed after Izuna had borrowed my toothbrush, both of us dressed. I kissed him on the cheek, bidding him goodnight, and he fell asleep almost immediately and slept through the night.

I, however, did not. I spent hour after hour just watching him. His softly furrowed eyebrows as he dreamed. The curve of his cheekbones as he turned to lay his back. The glossiness of his hair as it stuck on his face. His softly parted lips as he breathed. I wanted to kiss him badly, but didn't dare to touch him; Izuna sleeping felt sacred, untouchable. I thought about how Betty had accepted him. Not only accepted him but trusted him, desired closeness from him. There was something about my girl choosing him over me on the couch that did things to me. It made my liking of the man even stronger.

I tried to sleep myself, afraid I wouldn't be able to keep myself away from him, but couldn't. Or, I must have because suddenly, two hours had passed, but as I woke up I was wide awake once more. I decided to get up. Betty was asleep in her corner, and I tried to be quiet so as not to wake her, made myself some green tea and sat down on my couch to read. All the while, I couldn't get the fact that Izuna was asleep in my bedroom out of my mind. I read the same sentence in my book over and over to no avail; I couldn't understand a thing. I finally must have dozed off again, because when I woke up on the couch, it was light outside.

But something else had changed as well. Izuna's light, soft body was pressed against mine. He must have woken, realised I wasn't with him, come to find me and gone back to sleep next to me. He had taken my arm and put it around him, or maybe I had put my arm around him in my sleep. I smiled, planted a kiss on top of his head. He smiled in his sleep, made a satisfied sound as he pressed himself even closer.

I hugged him close and went back to sleep in my couch next to my co-star.

"Izu... Hey, Izu."

Izuna, it seemed, liked sleeping. A lot. We hadn't gone to bed too late and it was almost noon now. I figured it was time to wake him.

He frowned a little as I called his name, hugged one of my cushions close.

"Mmm?" he said.

"Wake up. I want to show you something."

Izuna opened his eyes, and as he saw me, his entire face softened. I couldn't help but smile.

"You're real..." he murmured.

"Of course I am", I said. "Question is, are you?" 

I took his hand, and he looked down on our hands in awe as I braided our fingers, mine so much longer and thicker than his.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, looking up at me expectantly.

"Very", I said, which was true; the little sleep I had gotten had been of very high quality indeed. "Come."

He got out of the couch and followed me. I didn't take him far, just to my ceramics wheel where I had put a wet piece of clay. I jumped up on the chair, patted my lap.

"Sit", I said.

He smiled shyly, did as I said. 

From there in out, there was no talking between us. I put my hands on his shoulders, stroke down along his arms. I felt him shiver by my touch, which made me endlessly happy. Finally, my hands reached his hands, the palm of my hand to the backside of his, grabbed them, put them on the clay. I turned the wheel on so it started spinning softly. And gently, I guided his hands on the clay, shaping it with him, creating a smooth surface. I didn't guide him too excessively; I wanted the small imperfections created by his hands on the final piece. He was surprisingly relaxed in front of me, which made me smile. I leaned my chin on his shoulder, blew a strand of his hair away so I could see the what we were creating together.

For minute after minute, we worked together until he had made a round vase with lines created by his fingers, so much smaller than the lines I could create with mine. It looked beautiful. 

"Well done", I praised softly.

He turned round then, looked at me.

I leaned back a little, looked at his pretty face. The largeness of his eyes enhanced by the shortness of his lashes. A soft spray of freckles on the bridge of his nose. A little wrinkle in between his eyebrows showing off a life of hardships, while the small crow's feet at the corners of his eyes spoke of joy. I could live a thousand lifetimes yet find things to explore in his beautiful face.

But I wouldn't have that much time because he grabbed the back of my neck, leaned in...

And kissed me.

He kissed me softly, taking his time, the time captured behind both of our closed eyes. Every nerve ending on my lips was hyper-aware of every skin cell on his, conjured up a perfect picture of the shape of his mouth in my mind so that I could've understood what they looked like even if I had been blind. I put my hand around his waist where he sat in my lap while he kept pressing my neck in a frightfully sensual way.

With a soft final movement, we parted lips.

And I got lost in his eyes. 

I made him pancakes because of course I did. While I was cooking, he sat at my coffee table sketching something in a notepad. It wasn't until after he'd left that I realised he'd tore the paper out of his notebook and left it on the coffee table. 

"Oh, wow", I burst out loud.

It was an insane, detailed cartoonish sketch of what was clearly Betty. She had stars and moons in her eyes, and looked carefully curious. Immediately, I imagined it on my right pec; it was obviously meant to be a tattoo.

I looked at the piece for a long, long time. 

It was my first time filming with someone else since I'd started filming with Izuna.

It was a contract I had signed about a month before agreeing to film with Izuna, but it still felt strange and I realised I felt uneasy. Not of being with the girl and being filmed per se; I'd done that so many times. But I was afraid of how I would feel because I wasn't really used to feeling anything.

I went and stood over the girl, laying on her back in the bed. She was panting, looking up at me; she wanted me.

I wanted her, too.

"The cameras are on", the director said; not Will.

I looked down at her and realised something was missing. Consent. She hasn't given me consent.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked back and I realised my mistake; she thought I thought she seemed like she couldn't pull it off.

"Sorry", I murmured, looking down.

"We're short on time", the director said.

I began. What used to come so naturally to me was all so mechanical now. When I had come, I looked down on her. 

Did she want that?

I knew that I had performed badly.

But lucky for me, me performing badly was better than any other actor's best shot.

"Very well done", the director said. "You're off."

I started longing for something then, the pleasure of being with someone whom I'd talked to beforehand. What do you like? Anything you dislike? Are you in pain somewhere today? Do you have any injuries? Anywhere I'm not allowed to leave bitemarks?

Did that even exist in pornography? I didn't know but I desired it.

Or maybe, what I desired was simply consented sex without cameras.

It was one of those bad ideas that just filled you with excitement. One of those ideas that made the pit of your stomach fizz and crackle because you knew you shouldn't, but you knew you would do it anyway.

I was trembling as I sat at my coffee table, opening up my laptop.

'Izuna Uchiha' I searched.

He'd done tons. Loads and loads of videos. I frowned; he was hugely popular, it seemed as well. 

Well, what did you expect? Pretty face like that. 

I clicked on one, nerves travelling up and down my spinal cord.

Holy shit...

I didn't know what I had expected. Some stupid part of me had, unbeknown to me, expected it to be clearly visible how Izuna was yearning for me in his videos, which was ridiculous, I knew. But I couldn't help it; I wanted to see him have his eyes closed, thinking about me, scream my name, look slightly dead in the face, even if the videos were dated from way before I knew him.

But of course, that wasn't the case because Izuna came alive in each and every one of the videos.

He moved like someone possessed, moaned, screamed, begged for more. He had a way of doing it without it becoming exaggerated which was very rare, almost unheard of, and that was probably a huge part of what made him so popular among directors and viewers alike. He grabbed his co-stars' faces and kissed them with his tongue, licked their lips, sucked their dicks while he himself was erect to the skies and clearly incredibly horny.

"Fuuuck, Izuna..." I complained.

There was no other way to describe it; it broke my heart.

You are falling in love, my brain told me. You are falling in love with a gay porn actor.

I didn't care. 

Or, rather, I cared a lot. 

I leaned back, unbuckled my belt, unzipped my trousers, grabbed myself, sighed in pleasure. I kept my eyes locked on the screen, forced myself to look at him, at them. The hot brunette with such a pretty, nerdy face that contrasted his muscular body incredibly. Izuna was riding him like a maniac in a way he'd never ridden me. I hated the nerdy brunette as I beat myself, egged on by the jealousy that created a delicious, tangy sensation in my mouth that I could also feel in the pit of my stomach. 

Don't worry, you're not in love, you just wanna fuck him, I though. You just wanna be the only one allowed to conquer him. 

Even as I tried the thought at the tip of my tongue, I knew it wasn't true. This wasn't a feeling of ownership, of wanting to be the one giving the most pleasure, of being the best. This was a feeling of desired partnership, of wanting to be chosen.

"Izuna..." I murmured, conjuring up an image in my mind of the burns he had allowed me to leave on his body. "Hahh...." I breathed, watching the two men on my laptop screen, pretending I beat the fuck out of the other man and then forced myself onto Izuna, something I knew I would never, ever do.

Because I was in love with him.

I touched myself until I came.