Present, set of "Reign" Episode 10 Season 2
It was unbearably hot. Hot and dark. The subtle floral scent of Megan's perfume mingled with his peppermint breath and Alan swallowed dryly, trying to get rid of the nervousness that was about to settle in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath and carefully guided his hand along her body towards her neck. His fingertips touched the light fabric of her nightgown and Alan couldn't help wondering how soft her skin must feel under the silk. The sigh that Megan let out made him release the air, he had held until that moment. He knew it was just acting, and beneath him was Catherine de' Medici, not Megan Follows. Yet his heart stopped beating as his hand almost started to develop a life of its own and found its way between her breasts up to her throat. Alan carefully put his fingers around her neck and Megan took a sharp breath, opening her eyes just as Alan came out from under the duvet, shoulders and head finally freed from the heat. The scent of her perfume suddenly intensified and a slight grin grew across Alan's face. He had found his way back into his role, Henry, the mad King, now appeared in the fantasies of his almost mad Queen.
"Henry?" Megan's - no, Catherine's voice was nothing more than a ghostly whisper, she stared at him, eyes wide with surprise, "this can't be real."
Alan could see in her eyes that she seemed to be a little off, just like him. Letting go of her throat, he straightened up further, grabbed her wrist, roughly but not too roughly, and pulled her arm towards the middle of his body. Her fingertips touched his thigh and Alan did his best to concentrate on his lines. "Don't I feel real?" his hoarse voice succeeded effortlessly this time, perhaps because this very scene captivated him in a very special way. Megan just kept staring at him in shock until he lowered his head and pressed his lips hungrily on hers. At first it seemed as if she was giving in, his breath going faster, heavier than usual and he deepened the kiss, his hand still clasping her wrist.
"Stop," only a second or two had passed when Megan interrupted the kiss and forcibly removed her hand from his grasp "Stop it!"
Alan was still breathing heavily, his thoughts began to spin wildly in circles and he retreated slightly as Megan straightened up, cheeks flushed, with an expression in her eyes that was completely foreign to Alan. She too was breathing faster - and Alan was not left cold. The words that followed, Alan only could only hear muffled. He was busy looking at her, sucking in her scent and planting this sight in his brain forever. Damn - Alan realized too late that he had fallen out of his role - his head seemed to be empty when he looked at Megan. Maybe that was a problem too. This was not Henry and Catherine, it was Megan and Alan. And for some unknown reason, he found it particularly difficult at that moment to separate Henry and Alan.
"Cut," Alan noticed his cheeks burning. Now he was blushing, too, like a schoolgirl. "Sorry," he shrugged and gave Megan an apologetic look, making a discarding gesture with her hand, a slight smile adorning her lips as she ran her fingers through the blonde hair and her breathing slowed down again. Alan rubbed his bald head and gave an exasperating sigh, as one of the crew members recited his lines to him, whereupon he merely nodded and silently returned to his position under the blanket.
It would not get any better, he knew that. The pulling in his loins predicted great difficulty concentrating in the near future and Alan would have to pull himself together. So the game started all over again and Alan brought up every bit of concentration he could find within himself to prevent his excitement from becoming his undoing. On the other hand, if he was honest, every second he spent in this bed with Megan was both a curse and a blessing.
"Don't I feel real?" the words came automatically to his lips, the scene had already processed when he took her hand again and pulled her towards him. Their faces were now so close that Alan could see the tiny freckles on her nose and felt her warm breath on his lips.
A quiet, almost imperceptible gasp escaped Megan as her fingertips collided with something that was definitely not his thigh. She did not flinch. And instead of looking away or even feeling ashamed, she performed her role completely convincingly.
Again Alan kissed her, again she interrupted him and freed herself from his grip.
"What are you doing here? What's happening to me", she asked in the same stunned breath, her chest trembled from the heavy breathing and her eyes were supposedly widened in terror.
And this time, Alan remembered his lines.
"The twins found me," he played along, raising one hand to put it on her cheek. Megan followed his movement with an attentive look and seemed to relax slightly. Her breath caressing his palm as he moved even closer to her, her lips slightly opened by the intense breathing that the kiss had provoked. "You don't have to feel guilty about Claude," Alan recalled his lines, the deep whispering came easily to him, especially when he put his index finger on her lips. His gaze remained there for a moment - warm, soft and red in a way that could have made any man weak. Megan's look met his and he used that moment to kiss her again, as instinctively and aggressively as before.
Although another kiss had not been planned for this scene, Alan did not care, especially not at that moment. He had let himself be carried away to let her feel his - Henry's - hunger and he did not regret it for a second. What surprised him more was the fact that Megan didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Even when Alan more or less accidentally let his tongue slip over her lower lip, her reaction was a sigh that almost bordered on a groan. Alan thought he was going crazy, the sound vibrated through his body like an electric shock and the last remaining blood finally left his brain.
"Say it," he muttered soundlessly as he interrupted the kiss, breathing heavily against her velvety lips that still touched his "say that you want me back."
Suddenly he felt her hand on his cheek and his gaze cleared. "I want you back", Megan's voice was a mixture of a hoarse whisper and an almost inaudible moaning, her thumb touched his chin briefly and he looked at her a little too long to continue his lines now. Alan was already about to break off the scene when a tiny movement of Megan, a slight lifting of her head in his direction, an almost unreal concession of her body, put him on another thought. His left hand pushed the fabric of her nightdress roughly over her shoulder and he entangled her in another passionate kiss, his right hand buried in her soft curls.
"Cut! That's it folks," the director shouted and Alan and Megan separated, both with red cheeks and Alan with a wildly beating heart - not to mention an erection that was about to cause him serious problems.
His face was still very close to hers for another moment and invisible to everyone else in the room, he gently pushed her nightgown back into place. With a tiny smile, he slid to the other side of the mattress.
Alan rubbed his shaved head but stayed put, while Megan had already disappeared towards her trailer. A little clueless he sat on the bed, the duvet covering his abdomen. How would he get out of here without putting himself in the most embarrassing situation of his life? His eyes fell on Jack, the eccentric of the camera crew, who seemed to be on his way to him right now.
"Here, man", Jack went with his free hand through his ash-blond hair, which was slightly too long. He handed Alan his dark blue jacket, which he had prepared for the way into the trailer. He grinned, a bit too cheeky for Alan's taste, and the old man's face darkened just before he got up. He silently cursed the damn leather pants he had to wear as King Henry, they really didn't make this situation any easier for him.
"You owe me," Jack added and disappeared towards the cameras after Alan acknowledged his remark with a noncommittal grunt. Although Alan had always believed he would never find himself in such a situation, Megan Follows had him head over heels for her. On every imaginable level. Seeing her again had affected Alan more than he had expected.