+ 6'3" Tall, Muscular, Shoulder Tattoo
+ Stubborn as anything but loyal, Big Taurus Energy
+ Chef turned celebrity due to his incredible cooking skills and his charm and charisma in front of the camera
+ Has a habit of sleeping with the cooking contestants on the show where he's one of the judges.
+ Word of his antics nearly came out so he paid to have it all swept back under the rug as quickly as possible before it blew up as a full on scandal. But rumors are still out there.
+ Is completely in the closet publically and to his family.
Aslan had a modest upbringing, nothing that anyone would call rich. As immigrants, his parents did the best they could for him and his siblings. They sent them to a private school and ensured they had the best resources possible to make something of themselves. While his siblings veered toward careers that would make them a good living, Aslan never could get away from his love of food. Cooking just sort of came naturally to him. He cooked alongside his mother from the time he was small. As the youngest of their four children, he was somewhat of the baby, always at his mother's heels. She coddled him far too long, or that's what his father always said. But that didn't stop her from letting him spend his time in the kitchen whenever he wanted.
It wasn't really a surprise to Aslan when he found himself more attracted to boys than girls. Still, he hid it from his family for fear they would no longer accept him. He lived the majority of his life through high school and onto culinary school with this semi-secret in his pocket. His closest friends knew he was gay but he continued to hide it from his family. This was something his only serious boyfriend in his life just couldn't accept and, after two years, decided to break things off if Aslan couldn't face up to his parents and tell them about him. Part of him regrets letting that get away from him, but he simply put his head down and focused on his cooking rather than dwelling on his emotions on the subject. After all, the most important thing he could do was make something of himself.
As it turns out, Aslan was a bit more of a natural than he realized. After school, he worked his way up from line cook to soux chef to head chef faster than anyone expected. His passion and technique showed in his food and it wasn't long before he was opening and running his very own restaurant. It was all the rage, with reservations for months in advance. People from all around wanted to come and try his food, to see what everyone else was talking about. It was because of this and Aslan's natural charm and charisma that he was invited to be a judge on his first cooking competition when he was only 26.
Being on television changed Aslan's life completely. People took to him like moths to a flame. His quickly growing popularity and fame was a whirlwind that he was neither expecting nor prepared for, and it kind of went to his head. During the first season of his show, Aslan slept with three of the male contestants, one of which ended up being the winner of it all. Season two saw him in bed with one of the other judges as well as two contestants, one of who was married and consistently talked about winning the show for his family in front of the cameras. Season three rolled around and Aslan was more a celebrity than a chef. Someone else was the head chef of the restaurant with his name on it and he was in talks for another show that would star him and only him.
He was on top of the world, until he wasn't.
As season three began to air, the man who won the first season decided it would be a great idea to talk about his experiece on the show in great detail for another 15 minutes of fame. He didn't name Aslan by name at first, but the fact he was speaking about sleeping with one of the judges completely freaked him out. Aslan, who still wasn't out to his family or the world at large, confessed to his agent what happened in private. They needed a way to fix this before the rest started to speak out, before they completely ruined Aslan's reputation or his life. He was introduced to a man that was very good at fixing things and, at great cost to Aslan, he was assured all of this would just go away without incident.
It seems he wasn't completely free of rumor and innuendo, though, as he received an invitation to the Haus of Perses shortly after people started to talk. Since people were still talking, he felt it would be a good idea to get out of the spotlight for a while and take a vacation, which his agent compeletely agreed with. So, between seasons and with his personal tv show now on pause for the forseeable future, Aslan made his way to Virginia to sort out his own demons.
August was a little surprised that Aslan didn't feel the need to pry any further at the moment, though he guessed he shouldn't be. The chef had gotten himself into some shit, but he was a good guy. There was more than what meets the eye. "Any white wine works for me..." August watched the other male, paying close attention to the way he was acting, the expressions on his face. It was of course in the lawyer's nature to study his surroundings at this point. Always researching, always trying to figure people out.
"Obviously this is something no one knows about back home." August chose to offer up the information, because at this point, there was no reason to try and hide it from Aslan. "I'm sure it would be a field day if they did. But, I um. Guess I felt like I needed to do this. I can't say I'm sorry that I did." The blonde dropped his gaze from the other set of intensely blue eyes, trying to choose his next words carefully. "I felt like I was drowning."
Hearing his reply, Aslan ordered them a white wine and waited for the waiter to leave again before turning his gaze back to August. He likes to think he was good at reading people, but heâd been wrong about August before and it seemed he was again. He never would have pegged the other man as reserved or secretive. He seemed quite confident in himself, evidenced by the way heâd handled Aslanâs little problem. And yet how he spoke about how he felt being here, how he felt like he was drowning⌠it sang to him. Aslan had yet to relate to another man at the Haus quite like this. August was simply full of surprises.
âI know exactly what you mean.â The celebrity facade dropped a little as Aslan looked down at his hands. âAlways feeling like you canât fully be yourself, always worried youâll slip up and say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. That youâll suddenly be this big disappointment to everyone who looked up to you⌠who loved you.â He knew those feelings all too well. Lifting his gaze again, he searched for the lawyerâs eyes and offered him a warm smile. âYour secret is safe with me.â It was almost a playful promise, an echoing of the same sentiment August had given him when Aslan asked him, begged him, not to allow any of this to get out. The other had done so much for him, the least he could do was offer the same assurance. Back home, none of this needed to exist.
One thing was to see someone on television â the image that they sold, the whole concept of a show or movie⌠and another completely different was meeting those people in person. Most of the time, they were assholes. Little cocksucking wannabes that went on an ego trip and believed to be Kings and Queens of the world when they lacked talent and humility. But from what he had gathered from Aslan in their limited interaction at the gym, that man was as humble as they come. He was obviously good-looking ( everyone knew that ) but he didnât flaunt it like so many others. In fact, the proximity that they shared at the gym, what they had done⌠it was obvious to Patrick now that Aslan, while a celebrity⌠wasnât used to that sort of treatment. To be taken care of and be all that close and personal with another man. In the personal trainerâs eyes⌠that was definitely a turn-on.
âIâve met my share of celebrities âere, sure⌠but I didnâ have a crush on them. Nor were they as humble as yeâ are.â Might around just skip beating the bush and say it out loud. He had seen Aslanâs cock. He had jerked him off in the middle of the gym. If he had done that, admitting that he had a little crush on the celebrity chef was nothing. âI told yeâ that I used to drool when yeâ appeared on the screen. That yeâ âere on my thoughts before bed plenty of times.â The sort of improper thoughts that he had about Aslan had been nothing short of absolutely lewd and decadent. And with some luck⌠they would soon become a reality rather than a fantasy that Patrick liked to play in his mind every now and again. Sure â he was used to dealing with incredibly hot guys but there was just something about Aslan that made him a bit harder than the occasional celebrity. âThe fact that yerâ as humble in person as yeâ are in interviews help. I donâ like those cocky celebrities that believe to be entitled to the world when they barely have done anythinâ worth mentioninââŚâ
As Aslan approached him from behind â Patrick closed his eyes and relaxed at the sudden move which was a lot bolder than anything that Aslan had done at the gym. Could it be that being behind closed doors and without the fear of someone walking in on them made the man braver? âI did promise yeâ breakfastâŚâ Patrick smiled as he finished filling up the glasses with wine and left them both on the counter as he slowly ( he wanted for his guest to feel his body grinding against him ) turned toward Aslan, resting both of his arms on the other manâs broad shoulders. âYeâ sleep naked? I donâ see a problem with that⌠althoughâŚâ There was a little pause. One where Patrick took his time in wetting his lips and leaning closer to Aslan, almost kissing him at that moment but dodging to the left so that he could brush his lips over the shell of the chefâs ear.
âWhat makes yeâ think there will be any sleepinâ, darlinâ? A man like yeâ? In my bed? I can think of a million other things for us to do that donâ necessarily involve sleepinâ⌠and thatâs assuminâ that yeâ can keep up with me.â
Even as a celebrity of a sort, Aslan couldnât stand the ones who thought the world owed them their love and adoration. Maybe it was because of how he was raised or where he came from. Maybe it was because he was a chef rather than an actor or musician. The casual person wouldnât really know who he was, only the people who enjoyed cooking shows or loved food like he did. His fame had come on quick when he was still quite young, and while heâd let it go to his head in some ways, heâd never let it change who he was - a timid little boy who loved to cook. Patrick seemed to sense that in him even before their meeting at the gym. It was gratifying to know he didnât seem arrogant on television, despite being so skilled in the kitchen. He always tried to be humble, to give constructive criticism instead of tearing people down, and to compliment people when they deserved it. It cost him nothing to be humble, but apparently it gained him the favor of one very sexy personal trainer.
âA crush?â Aslan repeated, unable to stop the smile on his face. God, this really was like high school all over again. He remembered what it was like to have crushes all too well. Just the thought sent butterflies swirling through his stomach. âThat is adorable.â All of a sudden, Patrick was the gorgeous popular boy that everyone wanted and Aslan was the quiet Turkish kid desperate for attention from someone like him, but too far in the closet to say as much. He wondered briefly if Patrick would have even noticed him at that age, when he was smaller, too tall for his body, and reserved. He didnât play sports or go to the gym daily. He kept his head down, did his work, and went home to play in the kitchen. It wouldnât be until his early 20s that he truly grew into his frame, sculpting it to perfection as his skill and knowledge grew. If Patrick had seen 16 year old Aslan Kilic, would that crush exist? And did it even really matter here, now, with his arms around him?
As Patrick turned in his arms, Aslan was well aware of the way his body rubbed fully up against his own. He looked up at him, hands moving to the other manâs waist as he wetted those perfect lips. Aslan prepared himself for a kiss only to be dodged, hot breath spilling across the skin at the crook of his neck. The chef closed his eyes, a shaky exhale leaving him as Pat spoke of all the things heâd rather do with him than sleep. His mind could conjure so many things but he was sure Patrickâs could come up with much more. Those were things Aslan wanted to discover. âDonât worry.â Turning his head, Aslan found the kiss heâd been waiting for, softly brushing his lips against Patâs before the other man could move away. âStamina is one thing you need working in a kitchen. I donât think youâll be disappointed.â
Smiling, Aslan reached around him for one of the glasses of wine, very slowly pulling out of his reach. While he tried to remain cool, his head was absolutely spinning. How badly he just wanted to stay there, to give himself entirely to the other man. In good time⌠Instead, he wandered back over to where the music was playing, swaying his hips as he took a drink of the wine heâd supplied. Of course, it tasted divine. âDidnât you say something about dancing?â Aslan asked, spinning to face him again, an eyebrow raised. He wasnât much of a dancer himself but he would gladly move to the rhythm if it meant being close to Patrick.
( text ): I hid an egg just for you somewhere no one else will look.
( text ): hint: where we first met.
Maybe it was silly of him to do something this sentimental, but Aslan didn't really care. Since the Kings had moved the movie theaters to the island along with the resort, Aslan couldn't think of a better place to hide his surprise for Rhett than the porn theater. He doubted anyone else would go in there looking, at least not at first. He tucked the easter egg-shaped box into one of the chairs and left it there for Rhett to find. As much as he'd love to see his face when he found the gift, it felt more appropriate to leave it there for him. Inside the box was a ring Aslan had seen him admiring when they went shopping on their date weeks ago as well as his freshly baked shortbread cookies hand stamped with a flower design for the spring.
All there was left to do was wait for a confirmation that the blonde had found it.
The last thing Rhett expected to get was a text from Aslan saying he had hid an egg for him in the theater they met in. His heart swelled at that statement and he immediately beelined towards the theater, not wanting anyone else to take it. He wasn't sure how many people actually went to that porn theater, but he wasn't taking any chances. The moment he walked into the room, he noted how it was empty and he smiled a bit, immediately walking towards the seats where they were sitting when they first met.
Knowing Aslan, that would be precisely where they were.
And he was right.
Sitting down, he opened up the box and he about dropped the whole damn thing when he saw the ring. How did Aslan know he had been looking at that exact thing? He just couldn't justify buying it... And yet there it was. Fuck, that was so sweet of him. Replacing one of his other rings with the new one, he smiled warmly at the sight of it before he grabbed the other box, pleased as punch to see some cookies. Rhett quickly put the lid back onto the cookies and called Aslan immediately, "I can't believe you!" The Brit exclaimed, laughing a bit, "You're are...something else, Aslan. I have something for you too! Can I come bring it to you?"
Aslan was nervous while he waited. Why was he nervous? Maybe Rhett would be upset at him for spending so much money on him for a silly holiday like Easter. Maybe he wouldnât actually like it or want it at all. Maybe heâd think Aslan was overstepping some kind of boundary by essentially playing boyfriend. But wasnât that what this island was for? Engaging in fantasy? Even if it wasnât of a sexual nature, this was fantastical to him. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing, heart skipping a beat when he saw Rhettâs name and face flash across the screen. He answered, eager to hear his response. At his words, he couldnât help but laugh. âIâm happy you like it.â God, he couldnât stop smiling. When he heard Rhett had something for him in return, he perked up even more. âOf course. Meet me at Three Leaves and weâll have lunch.â
Roman looked a little surprised when the celebrity chef suggested Ro give him a private dance here, looking around and thinking for a moment before his face was growing into a slow smirk. Actually, that wasn't a horrible idea. He wasn't exactly looking his sexiest at the moment, but he supposed that may change once his clothes were shed. "Alright, love. As you wish." The stripper placed a hand on the taller's strong chest, green eyes locked on blue as he pushed Aslan backwards until he was pinned against the wall. It definitely helped the mood that there was a wall full of mirrors directly across from them, a great way for the older to watch the performance in more ways than one.
"Siri..." The Brit started, grinning ear to ear as he did so. "Play Closer by Nine Inch Nails." Ro began to pull off his shirt and as soon as the beat started, Roman was in his element. Every punch of the music had him moving, dropping down, face close to Aslan's clothed crotch for just a flash until he was popping up, and turning to press his back against the taller's front. He used him as his own human pole, reaching behind to place a hand on Aslan's arm while he slid slowly down his body and spread his legs for him in the mirror of their reflection.
Part of Aslan wasn't expecting Roman to accept his invitation so readily. But then he saw that smirk and the boy was coming closer to him. He looked down at him as he backed him toward the wall, his heartrate picking up just a little bit. He grunted when his back hit the wall, piercing blue eyes staying on Roman's face. The way he smiled said he was completely in his element, that he knew exactly what he was doing. Aslan bit his bottom lip and then the music began to play.
Okay, maybe he was still in over his head, even in this private setting.
The chef kept his hands by his sides as that repeated beat filtered through the room. At first, he watched Roman take his shirt off by simply looking down at him, watching him dip, come up again, and turn to press up against him. While Roman was smaller than him, he wasn't small by any means, and Aslan hummed at the weight of him against his body. Now his eyes were across the room, taking in the sight in the mirrored wall as Roman slowly descended him again. He couldn't help but subtly flex his arm beneath the dancer's touch, happy to provide support in exchange for the sight of him moving like that. So different from what he'd witnessed before but just as alluring.
A few seconds in and Aslan already knew he was in trouble.
Nevada gawked up at Aslan like he was speaking a foreign language when he said the name of the dish. "Manti?" He questioned with furrowed brows, peering back down at the dish. His mouth was already watering when hearing the chef explain what it consisted of. This was something that he'd never be able to fix for himself, Nev wasn't the best cook as he was never taught how. He grew up having to fix meals mainly for himself as his mother was off working for what felt like 24/7. It was either tv dinners, frozen pizza, boxed mac'n cheese, ramen, or chef boyardee. The real meal he would has was whenever he stayed with his grandparents during the summer, or on long holidays.
He picked up his fork, making sure to get a little dumpling with the sauce on it before taking a bite. Nevada was instantly moaning, eyes rolling back into his head. "Oh my god--" he savored the bite, humming happily. When he swallowed the bite, reaching to get another. "This is heaven-- the dumplings are nice and soft... not chewy like some can be and the meat is savory. Between the tomatoes and yogurt sauce, it gives a little sweetness and with the butter, there's this little hint of salt but the spices... that's what brings in the whole dish together."
To be fair, Aslan was speaking a different language. He was Turkish and so were his dishes, which hopefully wouldn't be a problem. Nevada didn't seem to mind either way, happy enough to have food of any kind to try. Aslan watched with bated breath while the other took his bite, making sure to get all of the elements, which the chef appreciated. As soon as the fork was in his mouth, Nevada moaned, and a weight lifted off of Aslan's chest. That was always a wonderful reaction to one's cooking, he couldn't ask for more. Except maybe a full breakdown of why Nevada liked it so much. Aslan's eyebrows lifted.
"Well, I wasn't expecting a full evaluation." He chuckled, feeling much lighter now that he knew it was a success. It had been a long morning of trying different combinations of this and that to get the perfect balance. "I've tasted so many different versions that they were starting to blend together. I needed a fresh set of tastebuds to make sure I wasn't crazy. But I think this..." He pointed at the bowl in front of Nevada. "this is the one." Clapping his hands happily, a timer went off somewhere behind him and he turned, going to the stove.
Aslan took a pan off the heat and came back to the counter, sliding the flatbread that had been cooking onto a plate before setting the pan aside. He picked up a bowl of melted butter and a brush, slathering the top of the bread with plenty of butter, allowing it to soak into the grains. Then he cut the flatbread into four pieces and picked up one quarter of it, reaching over to place it into one side of Nevada's bowl. "Try that with the sauce. Maybe give it a moment to cool."
Turning his attention towards the premeasured bowls (thank God), he nodded his head and shifted his gaze to each ingredient as he named them, "That's it? Wow." Rhett knew nothing about cooking but he always figured that it would take far more ingredients than that to make a sauce. But he was sure that Aslan knew what he was doing so he didn't even bother to question it. "It sounds like something I'll be terrible at." He laughed. If there was one thing Rhett Matthews was not known for, it was balance. Thankfully, that's why Aslan was there, right? He seemed to bring a balance that Rhett didn't know he needed...
A smile immediately graced the blonds lips when he heard Aslan's plan for later and he didn't even get to say anything about it because they were focusing on the task at hand. Luckily, it didn't seem that hard to make the sauce so Rhett felt pretty confident he could talk and whisk at the same time. Grabbing each ingredient, like instructed, he poured them into the bowl before he began to whisk away, taking care not to over whisk. That was a thing right? Or was that only baking?
Pushing that thought aside, he looked over towards Aslan with his signature smile still plastered on his face, "I would love to go to the shopping center with you." He said, "But you don't have to buy me anything, love. I couldn't possibly ask you to do that... You've already done so much for me." There was a small pause, "Not to mention how much you paid just to be able to do this." He shook his head a bit, still surprised by the whole auction thing, "I hope I'm at least giving you your money's worth." Rhett chuckled.
Doing this with Rhett brought him so much more peace than he could have realized. It had been a long time since he'd cooked for pleasure, just for himself, let alone someone he cared about. He'd forgotten how therapeutic it was for him just to be in a kitchen creating something. And teaching Rhett how to do it? That only made it so much better. Aslan had never considered being a teacher before, doing something other than owning a restaurant and showing off his skills to those that could afford them. But now... he was considering all kinds of things he'd never considered before.
"Are you sure you're not good at cooking?" Aslan teased, watching as Rhett combined the ingredients. He let him whisk for a moment, looking up at his face while he spoke. Aslan had a feeling that would be his reaction. Rhett was incredibly humble, it showed in all of his words and actions, but Aslan was adamant about this. He wanted to do something nice for him. "I know I don't have to. But I want to." Reaching over, he brushed some of Rhett's hair behind his ear, catching his eyes with his own. "Darling, I would have paid so much more if it meant no other man could have your attention tonight."
With a smile, he grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the bowl of now incorporated ingredients. He tasted it first, humming deeply. "Oh, that's perfect." While it would be much better once it was on the kofte, it tasted pretty damn good on its own. He got another spoonful and lifted it to Rhett's lips, allowing him to taste for himself. "No changes needed, don't you agree?" He was always curious about how tastebuds differed. What tasted good to him might not taste as good to someone else. He wouldn't change it but perhaps it was too thick, too salty, or not seasoned enough for Rhett's tastes.
Rhett absolutely loved how Aslan held onto him, almost as if he was going to float away if he didn't. He had been wanting to know what it was like to be held by the man in capacity and it certainly wasn't letting him down. He continued to press his hips against the others, happy to be straddling him. He craved the closeness. He would do just about anything to keep it. But it seemed that Aslan wasn't looking to part any time soon from the moan's that were coming from him. The sounds they were making together were so sweet and practically musical.
Their tongues continued to dance as Aslan kept his finger inside him as deep as it could go, earning another groan from Rhett as he moved it in and out. He didn't resist a bit as the client lifted him up a bit to get a better angle with his hand. Forcing himself to part from Aslan's amazing lips, he gasped as he felt the man insert another finger, working on stretching him open bit by bit. His fingers felt so fucking good and he truly couldn't wait much more to feel his cock so deep inside him.
He pressed kisses along the man's jawline, nibbling softly as he craned his head further. All the while, he gently rolled his hips, sinking Aslan's fingers deeper inside him, mewling softly as he did so. He imagined (and hoped) that the man was craving this as much as he was and, frankly, Rhett couldn't wait much longer. Reaching behind him, he wrapped a hand around the chef's shaft and ran his hand up and down, his thumb teasing over his head, "I need you." Rhett practically whined into ear, "Please." They had waited long enough, right?
Being this close to Rhett was all Aslan had wanted since his first day in the Haus. They had come so close in that theater and then again on New Year's Eve. It seemed that something force was wedged between them, presenting obstacles as a way to keep them apart. After weeks of being away from the Haus, Aslan refused to let it happen anymore. He'd invited Rhett to the luau hoping it would end them up right here and he wasn't the slightest bit disappointed. Finally having the blonde pressed so close to him, making those sweet sounds as he worked his fingers eagerly into his body was even more perfect than he could have imagined. And they weren't even close to finished yet.
Lips at his jaw and a hand wrapped around him, Aslan moaned, voice deepening with lust. "Oh god..." Rhett had no idea what he did to him. Maybe he was far too easy but he didn't care. Every touch rocked him to his very core, desperate for more and more and more. It seemed Rhett had similar designs as he whined so sweetly for Aslan to just give him what he needed. At this point, slowing down and taking their time would no longer satisfy them. Their desire grew in equal measure and Aslan wasn't going to make him wait any longer. He wasn't going to make himself wait any longer.
Freeing his fingers from the other's body, he slid his hands onto the backs of his thighs, squeezing gently. He positioned Rhett on his lap in just the right way to feel his cock hard and pulsing between his cheeks, even with that hand wrapped around him still. Leaning down, he kissed the blonde's chest, teasing across one of his nipples. "Go on then." The chef hummed as his hands slid back onto Rhett's ass, spreading his cheeks wide. "Take what you want, sweetheart." Grazing his teeth softly against his sternum, he looked up with a devilish expression that had escaped him his entire time at the Haus. "Show me how bad you need it."
Aslan stood before him, as impressive as the first time Angel had seen him back in Virginia: same chiselled features, same piercing blue hue to his eyes, same playful demeanour that didn't quite seem to match his imposing build. So visually the same, but Angel wondered if the man had changed much at all in other ways during his absense.
"Forgive me friend, but business called, and it could not wait," an obvious lie to those in the know, but Angel wasn't letting anybody be in the know. Only the smallest selection of people were informed as to why he had left the Haus originally, and as much as he enjoyed Aslan's company, the other wasn't to know the intimate details of Angel's life just yet. There were other intimate details he'd need to get to know first, and some others he'd need to be reintroduced to. "Glad to see you are still here Aslan; it would have been such a shame to only have interacted once."
"Of course," he was quick to offer the other a smile, tipping his head in the direction of the table, beginning the motions of setting up for a new game. "You wanna break, or shall I?" He asked, tossing a second cue in Aslan's direction.
Aslan wasn't sure how much he had changed since he and Angel first met. He'd certainly had more experience here in the Haus, getting further and further outside of his comfort zone. In a way, that all sort of started with Angel, as one of his first experiences in the Haus before it moved. Aslan was putting in effort. He didn't want to squander this opportunity at freedom. No one could see him here, or judge him. This was a place of secrecy and he needed to remember that. Still, he had his own issues to work through. Maybe Angel could help him with that. Or maybe nothing would happen aside from a friendly game of pool.
"Please, you were here first. Be my guest." He caught the cue and weighed it in his hands. It felt foreign but, like everything else on this island, he would get used to it. Maybe he was better at this game than he remembered. While he waited for his turn, he leaned against one side of the table, watching the other man's movements. They didn't do much talking last time they met, so he wasn't sure what to talk about. He was just going to have to make it up as he went along.
"Are you enjoying the island?" Such a generic question but it may lead to something more. "I wasn't sure about it at first, I've never been much for beach vacations. But it's definitely growing on me. There's a lot more to do here than the old place, at least."
( text ): I happen to have one easter egg for you but it's inside my pants. You should come collect, sugar. - Patrick
There it was again, that feeling of excitement. Aslan had to put his phone down for a second to let it dispel before he could even think to answer. Finally, he picked it back up, chewing on his bottom lip while he responded.
( text ): Just for me? You shouldn't have.
( text ): It would be rude of me not to come find it since you went through the trouble of hiding it and everything.
Frankly, Aslan was tired of beating around the bush. Maybe it was because he'd already had a taste of Isaac that made him a little bolder when it came to the boy, maybe he was just in a certain mood. Whatever the case, Aslan was going outside of his comfort zone requesting the staff member's company. After a drink or two, the celebrity chef felt more at ease making his way to the playroom where it all started. It was remarkable how much it looked like the same room as the one found in the Haus in Virginia. The same room where he'd discovered Isaac tied up like a Christmas present from another client to Aslan. Even so, at the time, he'd restrained himself from going overboard. Building the tension for just such an occasion.
When Isaac arrived, he would find Aslan waiting for him this time. Sitting on the foot of the bed, carefully twirling a lovely leather collar in his fingers, he set his blue eyes on his guest. Sitting up straighter, he lifted a finger, motioning for Isaac to stop. Then he pointed at him. "Take your clothes off." Even when demanding, Aslan sounded soft, like he didn't usually do this. That's because he didn't. But there was a trend developing between himself and Isaac that captured his curiosity and made him want to explore it more. So he watched the younger male carefully, waiting for him to follow orders.
The game room wasn't a place Angel considered to ever be spending time, but with the beaches and bars exceptionally busy, he'd taken the time to find a spot a little more secluded. Plus, it had been a long time since he had played pool, so a solo session would be ideal to perfect his technique.
A few games in and he'd managed to rediscover the techniques that worked when he used to play with Ricardo, oh how much his brother would be pissed that little Angel had beaten him. Angel enjoyed the triumph, but he enjoyed the time with his brother more. Fuck. The past always seemed to sneak up on him, blurring his concentration, and as he pushed the cue forwards, a little too hard, the white ball spun into the side with a loud clink, the angle of it rolling up over the side and clattering to the ground.
Mierda...
He watched the ball roll, starting to follow it as it rolled through the room until a foot came down and stopped it from going any further. Angel's gaze moved up from the ground, and a smile slowly formed as the mans identity became apparent.
Aslan made it a point to explore more of the island and find out exactly what he was missing out on. This place was massive and he knew he hadn't seen all of it, not even close. That's how he ended up in the game room, a place he wouldn't normally go if he knew what it was. He wasn't much of a gamer in any sense of the word, unless it was poker or... pool. A second after laying eyes on the table, he set his gaze on the man using it. A cool sense of recognition washed over him almost immediately. Angel was a difficult man to forget. Completely unique, he made an impression, especially given their very first interaction. Aslan was hard-pressed to forget a man that he'd gotten so familiar with so quickly.
For a moment, he considered turning around and walking out before Angel saw him. It seemed fate had other plans, however, sending the cue ball over the edge of the table and directly over to him, where he set his foot on top of it to stop it from rolling away. Aslan glanced down at it just before the other's voice reached his ears. He smirked, bent down to retrieve the ball, and finally lifted his eyes to look at Angel. "Stranger?" He spun the ball in his fingers as he approached the table. "I'm not the one that disappeared." He was teasing, of course. There could be many reasons why Angel had left the Haus and many reasons why he'd come back. None of them were Aslan's business.
Setting the ball back on the table, he observed the game Angel had been playing. "Looks like you could use an opponent." It had been a good while since Aslan had played pool. His father and older brothers were always better than him any time he tried. They never took it easy on him as the youngest. "What do you say we rack them up and play a round?" He wasn't sure if Angel wanted company from him or anyone else. But he couldn't resist offering.
In a way, Cedric could understand how some of the clients made use of the Haus as a way to open up and explore sides of them that they weren't able or willing to act on in the outside world. Coming from a background of politics, it wasn't like the difficulties of being in the public eye were unfamiliar to him - even though, unlike Aslan, he'd never had any issue letting loose, in any sense of the word. Just like his physical limberness was one of Cedric's outstanding assets, he'd never been known to be stiff or buttoned up when it came to his personality or attitude either. In his case, he'd veered too much into the other extreme at times of course, as a lack of self-control had landed him here in the end. But despite losing everything, Cedric couldn't bring himself to feel too much regret. Letting go of inhibition and shame and just indulging - that feeling was so freeing that he'd never want to go back. Instead, he was eager to help others - like Aslan - letting loose as well.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm nice... mostly", he teased with a wink, trying not to get too distracted by the obvious effect he was having on the client. It was tempting to just play into that, to continue his advances towards Aslan now that they were alone. But there was time. Instead, he watched the taller man bend down, nodding with a smirk as he reached down as far as he could. "Hey, not bad", he complimented with a chuckle, stepping close and reaching out a hand to run it along Aslan's back, from the broad shoulders down to his hips. "You've got all that muscle, so strength won't be the issue for you. It's gonna be all about letting go and just focusing your strength on those parts of your body that you need." Stepping back again, Cedric pointed at the yoga mats on the floor, moving to lay down on one of them, facing the ceiling with a smile. "Let's start with some simple poses to stretch a bit. This is the Bridge - can you lay down like this, feet on the mat, and lift your pelvis?" Demonstrating the pose, the blonde just executed the pose a little, a subtle smirk forming on his lips. "Basically it's as if you were... well, thrusting, except you hold the pose then. For now, don't worry about going further than this - one day, we'll have you fully walk on your hands and feet while facing the ceiling", he laughed.
Both of the times Aslan had met Cedric before now were fully in public. First at the pool and then in the middle of the St. Patrick's Day party. In those situations, Aslan was more prone to freeze up like a deer in headlights, to make excuses in order to escape his own awkwardness. But this time was different. Today they were completely alone, just the two of them, in a yoga studio. No prying, judgemental eyes to find them. Aslan already felt more relaxed in this environment and that made it much easier for him to follow the blonde's example or check him out, whichever happened most naturally at any given moment. It was difficult to ignore how beautiful Cedric was, not to mention his flirting. Maybe now Aslan could reciprocate instead of acting like he didn't notice just how sexy the boy in front of him was.
"Letting go isn't exactly my strong suit." Aslan teased, waiting for that touch to leave his back before he slowly rose to full height again. He kept his eyes on Cedric the entire time he spoke, giving him every bit of his attention. Part of him couldn't help but think he should have expected something like the next pose. Not that he would accuse Cedric of intentionally putting him into a sexual position. A lot of yoga could be construed as more sexual than it actually was, right? Without complaint, Aslan laid down flat on his back, stretching out on his mat before planting his feet and lifting his hips into the air. After a bit of adjustment, he made himself comfortable in the bridge, palms flat against the floor by his sides. "Mmm, that's nice." He sighed, feeling the way it stretched through his hips. Squeezing his glutes, he lifted them a bit higher. "If you ever get me spider walking like the exorcist, you're truly a miracle worker."
Not many things in that world made Patrick excited. Especially not when he often paid no mind to the antics of others when he had his own to care about. Being at the Haus provided him with a certain liberty of movement. Back when he was working at a gym before coming to the Haus by Alexanderâs invitation â his encounters with clients after hours were⌠limited. He would obviously flirt with them during their sessions. Men⌠women⌠to the personal trainer, it didnât really matter who was on the receiving end of his charm as long as it would pay off in the long run⌠for to him, his body and his charm and sex were nothing more than tools for him to get what he wanted. Everyone had secrets. Some bigger than others. Some definitely more expensive than others. Did it bother him to eventually break things up in order to blackmail a specific client? Not really. They were all just mere pieces on a board that moved according to his will. They were nothing more than a big, fucking fat paycheck that would fall into his bank account and provide a better life for him⌠and his mother.
But Aslan?
It was so rare for Patrick to feel excited about something. To actually want to be with a man because he was attracted to them and really wanted to be with them rather than get under their skin and squeeze every little secret they had. He had this tiny crush on Aslan since he had seen the man on his show. A crush that would often make Patrick touch himself fantasizing about the main judge, Aslanâs name escaping his lips the moment he would paint himself white. Tonight â all those little fantasies would come to be. Not because there was something he could win with Aslan. He wasnât going to bed the other client for the sake of some morbid secret â but because he wanted to. Every bit of him wanted to make Aslan lose control just like he had done earlier at the gym. And the fact that Aslan appeared to need that? That moment of complete insanity when he would just give in?
That was a fucking bonus.
âYeâ look even better than earlier, darlinâ. Did yeâ dress up for me? Iâm flattered.â Of course, he did. Patrick had no damn doubt on his mind that Aslan had made sure to look every bit of perfect as he looked now for him and him alone. His eyes took in the bottle of wine as Patrick accepted it graciously by pressing a gentle kiss on the other clientâs cheek. Just to keep him close enough to whisper âYeâ brought yerâself. What else could I have ever wanted, sugar?â Nothing like teasing and provoking. Like remembering someone of how hot they were and that the interest was indeed mutual rather than one-sided. âYeâ can make yerâself at home.â Patrick laced his fingers with Aslan as he guided his guest into his cabin â not being coy at all in the way he scanned how delicious Aslan looked in those clothes. He would definitely look better without them but they would get to that momentarily.
âIâll get us some glasses. Do yeâ mind puttinâ in some music?â Set the ambiance. Maybe even pull Aslan close to him as they danced and rub every inch of his body against the other manâs. It was a tad clichĂŠ but one could never go wrong with the classics. âI still canâ believe that I got to meet yeâ in the flesh. Itâs so weird.â The personal trainer was all smiles and charm and there was truly a part of Patrick that was excited about it. âIâm so used to see yeâ in my TV and now yerâ âere. At my cabin. âbout to share drinks with me ⌠and if yeâ want to⌠spend the night?â
Aslan was aware that Patrick was a fan of his but he wasn't aware of just how deep that admiration went. If he did, he would have been far more flustered than he already was. It was an ego boost being on television and having people recognize him pretty much everywhere he went. But to have a man like Pat actually fantasize about him after only seeing him on his show, that was a power Aslan never considered having. It was probably best that he didn't realize, best not to stroke his ego too much. Especially when all he could think about was how much of a mess Patrick had made him at the gym with such a simple action. They'd barely done anything and he was already wrapped around the personal trainer's finger, craving to see him again, to hear that accent and feel those hands.
"You already saw me dressed down, so I thought I'd put a little more effort in this time." Aslan liked looking good, it was one of the things about fame that suited him. He was glad he took the time because it looked like Pat had as well, given how stunning he looked tonight. Those whispered words send shivers down his spine, making Aslan lick his lips. Led by the hand, he entered the other man's cabin, which looked pretty much the same as his own. At least he would know his way around. "Thanks. I will." God, he was getting nervous again. Being closed in such a private place with a man like Patrick, someone that got him absolutely giddy, was bringing up so many feelings for him. Still, he tried to remain cool and calm. No reason to give away his excitement so easily.
Glancing around, he took in the other man's taste from what he could see. At Patrick's request, he made his way over to start some music. "I'm sure you've met your fair share of celebrities here." Aslan mused, flipping through a few songs before settling on one, something gentle for the ambiance that wouldn't distract from their conversation. "Am I the first to make you so starstruck?" Smiling, he wandered toward the kitchen where Patrick was getting the glasses, just wanting to be closer to him. His offer to stay the night widened the chef's smile considerably. "Well, you did promise me breakfast." Aslan reminded him. "And I don't think I could refuse you." It wasn't because of the food, it was because of everything else. Because of the way Patrick made him feel. He craved more.
Coming closer to the other man, he moved behind him while he poured the wine. One hand tucked into the back pocket of those perfectly fitted jeans and the other settled on Patrick's bicep as he pressed his lips against the back of his shoulder. Aslan was so much braver in private. "I didn't bring anything with me, though. So I hope you don't mind if I sleep naked."
