First Kiss Blog Hop – Wrong Place (m/m, sfw) – #FirstKiss
by Piper Vaughn
“Okay, everyone! Places!”
Chris shifted from one foot to the other, fiddling with the permanent marker he held as other people moved around him. With all the yelling and the running around, he’d forgotten the directions he’d been given earlier. He was supposed to be in front of the stage but behind the barricade—that much he remembered—but he’d forgotten specifically where.
He sought out a lady he vaguely recalled introducing herself as the assistant director at the beginning of the day. She was in the middle of barking orders at a couple of cameramen. Chris hesitated to interrupt her, but there really wasn’t any time to waste. Things were starting, he wasn’t where he should be, and he didn’t want to be the person holding everything up. Girding himself, he tapped her on the shoulder.
The woman gave him a harried look. “Yes?”
“Um.” Twist, twist, twist went the marker between his fingers. “I forgot where I’m supposed to be.”
She glared with such heat, Chris was amazed he didn’t wither to a husk. “Name?”
“Chris. Uh. Christopher Carmichael.”
She grunted and consulted her clipboard. “Stage left, stand on the yellow X. Jimmy is going to walk by—you know who he is, right? The redhead?” Chris nodded. “Good. So you’ll pull your neckline down and offer him the marker to sign your chest. He’ll sign and he’ll move on. That’s all you have to do. Got it?”
Her gaze raked him from head to toe. Clearly, she doubted his ability to follow even the simplest instruction, but in the next second, someone else snagged her attention, and she stormed away, screaming something about props.
Chris turned back to the stage. The floor area was already filled with people. Apparently, no one else had suffered an ill-timed memory lapse. Heat suffused his face as he started toward the front of the crowd. He had California dreams, as many an aspiring actor did, but this was his first time as an official extra. He knew he’d been chosen for his looks, not his intelligence or any particular talent. Not that he minded. Starring in a music video for Pale Coast made for great resume material, even if he was only on camera for a few seconds.
As he approached the stage, though, his confusion returned. She’d said stage left—did that mean his left while facing the stage…or if he were on the stage? Chris winced. Maybe the assistant director had been right to doubt him. He debated trying to ask one of the other extras, but suddenly, the music cranked on, the band took the stage, and it was go time.
Hurriedly, Chris squeezed his way to the front, turning at the last second to his left while facing the stage. The X was neon orange instead of yellow as the lady had said, and a girl stood half on it. Chris edged up next to her, but she was dancing in place and the music was so loud, he didn’t bother trying to tell her to move over. Instead he started swaying and watching the band as they lip-synched and pretended to play their instruments on stage. It was a little ridiculous—dancing while he watched a band pretending to play. The song was going in the background simply so everyone stayed on beat. He knew the actual audio would be added later during editing, but it still struck him as amusing. He let his smile show and bounced along to the music, figuring anyone who noticed his grin would think he was playing it up for the cameras.
It took two takes for them to get what they wanted on the stage. From what he understood, the video would be a sort of compilation of Pale Coast performing at a few different “venues,” along with behind the scenes footage from the tour bus and backstage. His role was simply to let the bassist sign his chest in permanent marker—and thankfully he hadn’t lost the thing in his last-second scramble to get in place.
He watched as the guys started coming off stage, moving into the narrow walkway between the stage and the barrier that held back the crowd. They were waving and giving high fives, as he imagined they would at a real concert. He saw the redhead, Jimmy, coming and prepared himself, stepping as close to the barricade as possible. He opened his mouth and lifted his hands to his neckline, but it was the dark-haired lead singer who stopped. The guy—Dominic, Chris’s brain provided—gave him a startled look, gone in a flash. Then he shrugged one shoulder and smirked. Next thing Chris knew, Dominic’s fist was in his hair, and their mouths were mashed together.
Chris made a surprised noise, something like meep that was lost under the volume of the music. Dominic took advantage of his lips parting to slide his tongue into Chris’s mouth.
Okay. Okaaayyy. So this was happening. It wasn’t what he’d prepared for, but obviously he’d missed the memo about changes since his instructions earlier. No worries. He could handle this. Roll with the punches. Kisses. Whatever.
Tentatively, Chris reached up to settle his hands on Dominic’s sinewy shoulders. He let his tongue get into the proceedings, returning the kiss with as much enthusiasm as he could muster given the fact that he was still recovering from the shock. He’d never done this before. Well, not exactly this. He’d kissed strangers at bars and clubs, of course, but even then, there had usually been flirting or dancing or some type of build-up prior to the lip-locking. People didn’t just grab his face and dive in. So, this…this was strange. Not bad, no—Dominic sure as hell knew how to kiss—but strange.
Despite the weirdness, Chris forgot about their surroundings as their tongues twined, tasted. Dominic kissed him as if they were somewhere private getting down and dirty instead of on the set of a video shoot. It should’ve been awkward. In a way, it was. But it was also deep and hot and slick and…God, when was the last time he’d been kissed like this? Ages.
Chris let his fingers wander to the close-cropped hair at Dominic’s nape, feeling the prickle of the short strands as he stroked upward and the downy softness when he changed directions. Dominic’s free hand settled firmly at the base of Chris’s spine, and he pulled Chris closer, as if he wanted to yank him over the barricade to mold their bodies together. Chris moaned into the kiss and lightly nipped at Dominic’s lip, feeling it quirk as Dominic smiled in response. Only then did Chris register that someone was yelling “cut!” and the music had died.
Abruptly, he found himself faced with one furious assistant director. “What are you doing? You’re in the wrong spot! I said stage left.”
Chris gaped at her. He noticed then that Dominic was laughing, and the girl who’d been hogging the orange X stood next to him looking pissed off. “Oh,” Chris said. Ohhh. So that explained why she’d been standing there. And why Dominic had seemed surprised when Chris stepped forward. Oh my God.
Belatedly, Chris realized he was still cupping Dominic’s nape in his hand. “S-sorry!” He jerked back as mortification blazed in his cheeks. “Sorry. I—I’ll go—”
Dominic grabbed his wrist before he could move away. “Terri,” he said, speaking to the assistant director above the dull roar of the crowd. “Let’s switch things up. We can film it again, but I want him to be the one.”
The lady, Terri, seemed torn for a moment. Then she nodded, snatched away the marker Chris miraculously still held, and waved it at the girl who should have been the one kissing Dominic in the first place. “You, take this and get over to the spot where Chris was supposed to be. Yellow X. Stage left,” she emphasized.
Chris felt her glare scorching the side of his face as she spoke, but he couldn’t tear his attention from Dominic. None of this made sense. Jimmy was the only openly gay member of Pale Coast. Chris had never heard so much as a rumor about Dominic. “I…but you…you’re not…” He shook his head.
“I’m not gay.” Dominic shrugged, his amusement plain. “I’m not straight either.”
Chris just looked at him helplessly. “But you never…”
Dominic reached up and touched Chris’s cheek. He smiled crookedly. “I don’t care if the fans know. It’s not a secret. And I have to say, despite the mix up, that was a damn good kiss.”
That startled a laugh out of Chris. “It was.”
Dominic’s smile softened. He dragged the pad of his thumb across Chris’s lower lip. “Let’s see if we can outdo it.”
“Okay, everyone!” Terri shouted. “Places. Again.”
She was probably glaring Chris’s way with that last word. As Dominic winked and turned away, Chris couldn’t bring himself to mind.
(Word count: 1499)
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