1 - Calvin Clarke
Calvin Clarke
The first time I laid eyes on Luke Porter I just about creamed myself in front of an entire production crew.
Luckily, since I was modeling on camera for the hit reality TV show ‘Designer Showdown’, I managed to restrain myself apart from a few suggestive remarks for my friend Isadore’s ears only.
“Keep it in your pants, Calvin,” Isadore murmured with a grin.
But it still didn’t change the fact that he was quite possibly the most gorgeous, fuckable man I’d ever seen. And I’d fucked a lot of men.
Like his brother Spencer - the contestant and designer I’d modeled several designs for already in the competition - Luke had straw blond hair, blue eyes, and a strikingly attractive mouth with an unusually deep cupid’s bow. Unlike his small, slight brother, Luke was buff. When he embraced Spencer the young designer was enveloped by his brother’s well-muscled arms and broad shoulders. He was taller than Spencer, too; not runway-model tall like I was, but I had no doubt that Luke would have no problem throwing me into bed and having his way with me.
He’d been easy to talk to during the short time we’d had together during filming. But despite my libido trying very much to tell me to do otherwise, I set aside any impulse to try and flirt with the man, and not just because we were making an episode of reality TV. He was straight, I’d quickly found out. And engaged, and despite joking around I had far too much self-preservation to mess around with that kind of a situation. So even when I worked again with his brother Spencer during the competition I resisted the urge to ask about Luke, trying to completely put him out of my mind.
Chances were I’d never see him again, anyway.
Then, as fate would have it, Spencer made it to the competition finale, with me as his primary model. That meant more than just another paycheck - if Spencer won, I’d also take home a fifty grand prize and a spread in GQ. But prepping for the finale would mean spending weeks on end in Spencer’s small house-turned-workshop in Queens as he built his collection for our final challenge and biggest show during fashion week.
Spencer deserved it, of course. Newly graduated, he had an incredible eye for design, and more importantly, had worked incredibly hard to push himself and grow during the competition. It hadn’t been hard to make his creations look good on the runway.
I’d made a decent living modeling since I was eighteen mostly because I’d been lucky enough to get in with a good agency; I was a ginger, and was considered “interesting looking” rather than conventionally attractive, but I managed to make it work, especially because I had a great body. But I’d fully expected that it would be Isadore - pale, devastatingly beautiful Isadore with his piercing green eyes and dark curly hair and cheekbones that could cut glass - that would stand beside Spencer as his top model.
Isadore had fallen head over heels for the little designer at first sight, and his entire focus during the competition had been on wooing him. It had worked a little too well: after winning a night away from the competition together, Spencer had grown nervous about the conflict of interest. Isadore, like the disgusting romantic he was, had then proceeded to withdraw from the competition in a Grand Romantic Gesture to prove that nothing was more important to him than Spencer’s love.
Thank god I’d never been that much of a dumbass for love.
Of course, Isadore had immediately come back to the competition to support the finale runway show, so other than being ineligible to win the fifty grand top-model prize, he hadn’t really missed out on much of anything after all.
And... watching him and Spencer together... it was hard not to think that he’d clearly ended up with a much, much better prize.
~~~
A bare week into Spencer’s finale prep I’d already begun to feel very much like a third wheel. I was all for their storybook romance in theory, but in reality there was only so much vile disgustingness I could take.
Fortunately Spencer lived in a surprisingly good-sized town house - something he’d inherited from a great aunt or something? So I started to keep myself to Spencer’s living room when he didn’t need me for fittings, indulging in a passion I normally, guiltily, tried not to admit to.
“Come on, Garret, get the puck in the fucking net!” I flopped back onto the couch with a groan as the whistle blew, the TV going to a recap of the save as players skated on and off the ice.
“He’ll shape up by the time the playoffs start. Garret’s always lazy at exhibition games.”
My heart leapt into my throat at the voice behind me, one that had invaded my wet dreams far too many times. I turned to see Spencer’s brother standing in the doorway to the den.
Luke, in his firefighter-paramedic uniform, the crisp navy fabric pulled taught over those incredible shoulders.
Oh god.
Thankfully I managed to catch myself before I started literally drooling, grinning back at him instead. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Are you a Rangers fan too?”
“Since I was a kid. Spencer never really got into it, he was too young before our mother took him overseas. But Dad and I always went to games. Even after we moved to Philly he’d always spring for tickets whenever the Rangers played in town.” He paused, glancing to the screen and then back to me. “I was just gonna go change... mind if I join you?”
I prudently held my tongue on telling him that he certainly didn’t have to change out of his hot uniform on my account. “Oh god, please do. Diaz’s who the hell knows where and I’m so sick of feeling like the gooseberry around here.”
“Gooseberry?” His eyebrows knit together.
I waved a hand. “You know, third wheel. Sorry, mum’s Irish, I inherited some...things.”
Luke chuckled, turning to head upstairs, and I tried to ignore the way the dark blue fabric of his uniform pants hugged his well-muscled ass as he moved.
Soon he was back in jeans and a tantalizingly well-fitting t-shirt, lounging on the other side of the couch “So... Calvin.”
I made a vague motion with one hand. “Call me Cal, please. Calvin’s my snooty model name.”
Luke chuckled. “Cal. You’ve been cooped up here with my brother and Isadore this whole time? I imagine they must get pretty sappy?”
I held my tongue on the fact that I’d enforced an early-afternoon ‘siesta’, knowing that it definitely wouldn’t involve sleeping for them. It was a much better solution than leaving them to their own devices. I’d arrived earlier than I’d thought I would on the day of my first fitting, finding the address and letting myself in like Spencer had instructed. Following the softly playing music had led me to the stairwell to his workroom... and an eyeful of Isadore on his knees between Spencer and the sewing machine, enthusiastically choking himself on Spencer’s surprisingly thick cock. Fortunately they’d both been far too preoccupied to notice as I slipped away.
At least when they were up in the master bedroom I could only occasionally hear Spencer wailing like he was getting the best railing of his life. But I held my tongue. How could I blame him when I knew very personally how good Isadore was in bed?
I chuckled, shaking my head and deciding not to go into detail. “God, I don’t even think Isadore’s been home at all these past few days except to grab new clothes and put out new food for the cat. Spencer keeps telling him just to bring her with him.”
Luke gave a soft snort. “Well, at least they’re happy.”
“It’s sweet,” I agreed, getting distracted by the hockey game. “Come on come on come on - Yeah! Take that!”
Luke joined in my cheers, and for a time the conversation consisted mainly of comments on the game, and bitching about the game during commercial breaks. Despite it only being an exhibition game, it still felt awesome when the Rangers slid a tie-breaking goal past the goalie in the last thirty seconds of the third period. Even better to have someone beside me who was as into it as I was, cheering with me. “That was a hell of a game.”
“Fuck yeah it was.” Luke’s grin was laughing and bold and while the resemblance to his brother was still striking, the more I saw of him the more his character showed through. There was an easygoing confidence to him that was very different from Spencer, and it made him all the more sexy. “Now all we’re missing is beer. I wonder if Spencer has any....”
“I’m afraid I do not normally stock beer.” Spencer’s voice was amused from the doorway, causing us both to turn. “Wine, yes. And this is why my living room sounds like a hockey stadium?”
Isadore was standing behind him, grinning. He glanced at Luke and then raised an eyebrow pointedly at me, which I stalwartly ignored, smiling at Spencer. “Wine is for fancy gourmet food, not hockey games.”
“Sorry to drop by unannounced.” Luke hopped off of the couch to pull his brother into a warm hug. “Just wanted to see you now that we’re properly moved in. I thought I could put together a late dinner for your crew? I brought some stuff.”
Spencer looked a little relieved. “Would you? I’m afraid all I’ve had time for lately is take-out.”
“Calvin offered to put something together but we decided we wanted to live,” Isadore remarked as we followed both brothers into the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m not that bad at cooking!” I replied indignantly.
Isadore’s eyebrows furrowed doubtfully. “Calvin, I’ve seen what you eat. Tomato soup and rice?”
“What?” Luke turned to look at me, taken aback. “That’s disgusting.”
“It was mac and cheese and tomato soup,” I shot back. “With tuna. All four basic food groups.”
Luke looked slightly green around the gills. “God, that’s even worse. And how the hell do you stay so fit?”
I shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table as Spencer started to unload the shopping bags that had been left on the counter. “I have the metabolism of a fourteen year old and run five miles every morning.”
“He’s a masochist,” Isadore declared. “But he’s got a great ass.”
I half expected the normal straight-man repulsion from Luke. Instead he merely laughed softly, taking a package of meat and a cutting board from Spencer. “Come help me prep then, all of you. Dinner shouldn’t take long.”
~~~
