Our Journey| Aaron Taylor Johnson

Kids

I stared at the package that sat on my coffee table.

"What's wrong? You're not thinking of backing out on me now right?" Aaron walked in and took a seat on my couch.

"No." I answered, unable to think of a better comment.

"I thought you'd be super excited when it came in." He took a drink from his soda, "You haven't even opened it."

■■■

The first day of filming came and went. Couple of weeks passed by without anything too drastic.. until today..

I shifted uncomfortably in my robe as I waited on set.

"Nervous?" I heard his unmistakable accent behind me.

"I don't know how to say this," I turned to look at him, "Duh."

"Come on," he chuckled, "We're both mature adults, good friends, there's about fifty people standing by, and this is our job."

"Thank you, Aaron." I heavily added the sarcasm, "I feel so much better."

"That's what I'm here for." He smiled.

"And to top it off. I'm starving." I complained.

"Alright, let's get this started." The director called. I watched as Aaron took off his robe, handing it to a crew member. His toned back facing me as he took his place on the damn set bed.
'Crap' I thought as I hesitantly took off my own, leaving me completely exposed in my underwear.

I took my place... straddling him.. mentally kicking myself for agreeing to this. I looked down and saw Aaron's smiling face looking up at me.

"Don't get too fucking excited." I warned him, which made him chuckle.

"Quiet on set." The director called, as Aaron sat up slightly. His lips inches from mine.

"Action." I heard them call, and his lips where on mine, my hands tangled in his curls as his large hands pressed me closer to his bare chest. I wrapped my legs around his torso before he rolled on top.

"Cut."

I pulled away from him first, surprised at how breathless he sounded.

"Who's the one that got a bit too excited?" He said in a voice so low that only I could hear.

"By the sound of your breathing, I'd say still you." I smiled back at him.

■■

My fear was that it would be awkward.
But it wasn't.
Just like he said, it's our job.

A few weeks after our big scene, I walked with him to the parking lot, quickly taking notice at how quiet he's being.

"What's wrong, Ford?" I ask, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"I've been thinking.." he says, taking a long pause.

"You don't get thoughts often, I understand how difficult it must be." I teased.