by K-lee Klein
“Mmm, not thirsty,” Devon answered the question Scott forgot he'd asked. He sounded a little sleep-drunk while he gently held Scott’s hand, his thumb caressing back and forth over the delicate bones of Scott’s wrist. It felt wonderful. “Forgive me?”
Scott swallowed around the lump in his throat, heart pounding and bashing against his ribcage. He could hardly hear from all the white noise that suddenly assaulted his eardrums. But Devon's voice echoed so loudly in his ears he thought he might go deaf. Was this the friend-zone conversation? Keep it light, Scott. “For being stinky? I'll think about it.”
Despite being bloodshot and weary, when Devon flashed those beautiful brown pools at him Scott had to look away. “That's not what I meant. About us.”
Scott gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “How about we agree that we both behaved badly? Besides, I’m too old to date rockstars.” He feigned a chuckle but was pretty sure it came off lame and unconvincing.
Devon shook his head slightly. Focus had returned to his eyes, his face less ghastly pale, and the maroon shadows around his eyes not quite so startling. “I’m not a rockstar. Scott. Just Devon DuCaine, Mississippi boy. I like sunsets and puppies, long walks on the beach, and sexy accountants.”
Scott snorted. “And you think you're a damn comedian. How about you be quiet for a while? Let that concussion run its course. I'm only here to make sure you don't slip into a coma.” He realized the impact of his words too late. “Oh, I didn't mean…”
But Devon's face gave away his pain clear as a summer's day; eyes damp and shut tight, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Then suddenly Scott was in Devon’s arms, tightly suctioned to his chest, with Devon’s nose buried in his neck. “I miss them,” Devon whispered.
“I wish I could say something to help.” Scott let Devon hold him close, let him cry himself out, sobs finally trickling off. Had he known Devon Devastation Caine DuCaine was so emotional? Scott had never met anyone like him. Beth and Devon's mom had obviously taught him well.
“I miss you, Scott.”
Scott's heart jumped into his throat. He stayed still but felt nothing but awkward. “I can’t do this. Not right now. Please.”
“Yeah, I shouldn't have…sorry.”
Devon released him. But Scott only straightened half-way. “You feel like telling me what happened tonight?” He asked but didn't wait for an answer. “Why you were fighting with Shadow? I thought he was your best friend.”
“Was…until you came along. We fought about you.” Devon lay his head back down on the pillow, gaze hazy with exhaustion. Scott followed him down, positioning them face-to-face again.
“Me? Why?”
“Beth and the kids are his whole world. Don't get me wrong. We all love the band but that's not what life's all about, you know? Being on stage and selling records is just a job,” Devon insisted then paused. He brushed his fingers over the bump on his head, hesitating, though his lips parted as if he were about to speak.
Scott laid a hand on the side of his face, pushing back his disastrous hair and letting his fingers linger. “I remember you telling me without any names that your friend has kids. That has to be twice as difficult.”
“Four. Three boys and a little girl. The first one's name is Devon. Who does that?” Current Devon laughed without humor, but Scott spotted the underlying pride shining through.
“I bet Uncle Devon is their favorite.”
“Of course,” Devon teased before his open expression turned to a grimace. “Shad was pissed. So angry and who could blame him when life had kicked him in the balls so hard he could feel it in his throat. But it wasn't all about Beth, you know? We'd had a few then he suddenly went off on me. Told me I was a fucking idiot and needed to get my priorities in check. I had a chance at something I'd wanted my whole life and that he didn't have any more.” He stopped, head turned away. Scott let him breath, thumbing his cheekbone to let him know he was still there.
“He said l was being stupid and stubborn and acting like a douchebag. That was the worst thing Shad could call anyone. His dad was the biggest douchebag in the history of douchebags. I knew him too and he earned his title in spades. That's why Shaun ended up living with us.”
“Shaun”?
“Shadow. So, I guess I was a little drunk and I lost it. I lashed out, told him I got why he was pissed but he needed to mind his own damn business.”
“Oh, Dev.”
“He punched me in the face,” Devon said matter-of-factly, almost indifferent. It was a far cry from his emotions minutes before. “Wasn't the first time. We've both gotten our shots in over the years. When you’ve been friends with someone for twenty years, things can get volatile. We can usually just shrug it off. He was the brother I never had for almost my whole life.”
“Did you...” Scott let the words trail off. Asking the question outright seemed harsh.
Devon eyed Scott before answering, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “Hit him back? No. I just let him punch me a couple of times. Must have fallen at some point and hit my head. Wolfie got me back on my feet but Shad wasn't done.” A smidge of a half-grin curled Devon's lips. “He said l should, and I quote, “pull my head out of my ass and start groveling for forgiveness before I became an ugly, bitter old man who spent all his time arguing with the Sunday paper because he had no one else who gave a shit.” End of quote.” He puffed a big breath like a dying man.
“I think I like Shadow a lot.”
Devon snorted, humorously. “Of course you do. I don't even know what happened next. Everyone had left after the funeral after party or whatever you call it.”
“Wait. The funeral was today?” Scott asked in a mild state of shock. Talk about volatile situation. No wonder everyone sounded like they'd been so keyed up.
“Yeah. Then everyone went to Beth…to Shadow's. It was one of her last requests, you know? Celebrate my life and family instead of mourning. Or some shit like that. I guess we did it for mom too. Always seems archaic to me.”
“But she wanted it.”
Devon agreed with a single nod. “She did. Not the fight part though.”
Painful compassion squeezed Scott's heart. He stroked Devon's cheek. “Sounds like you handled it was well as you could.”
“Yeah with my face,” Devon replied with a hint of brightness.
“It's still a nice face.” Scott smirked at him. “So you got the snot beaten out of you then got in a cab to come here? I have two questions for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Why didn't the Wolf—Wolfie? Whatever. Why didn't someone drive you home or to a hospital and how did you end up here?” It was time to lay all the cards on the table. Devon was becoming clearer-headed and Scott was calm enough to listen without judgment. And he was damn curious.
“The guys offered but I needed space. And I'm not lying when I say I miss you. I really do, Scott, and I want to come clean about everything if you'll let me.”
Scott popped out his bottom lip and pressed the side of his head further into his pillow. He blew out a breath, digging deep for a little extra strength. “I'll be honest with you. Just having you here scares me.”
Devon's face screwed up into a horrified frown. “You're scared of me? Shit Scott, I'd never hurt—”
“Not that way, Dev. Never in that way. I'm…um…afraid of my feelings. Nervous mostly, but I want to hear what you have to say. Be gentle, okay?”
“Always.” Devon spoke low, covering Scott's hand where it was still tucked against his cheek. “How about you ask me whatever you want to know.”
It was Scott’s turn to shine, his brain working overtime with all the questions scrabbling around in his head, every single one more important than the next. He needed to pick and choose carefully. “Have you seriously never slept with a fan?” Oh my god! Why start with that one?
Devon licked at the cut on his lip. “No, I have, but not for long time. Just in the beginning, you know. Well, except that one time a couple of years ago. It was totall
y unintentional.”
“Okay, I know I'm not the hippest guy around but how do you do that exactly? Unintentionally sleep with someone?”
“I had sex with someone who didn’t know who I really was. When he found out, he totally flipped out.” Devon sighed. “After that I wasn't Devon anymore. Devon wasn't good enough. This guy wanted me to be Devastation. I ended it pretty quickly.”
Way to go Dev—tugged heartstrings achieved. “You're good enough, Devon. You're always good enough.”
“Hmm, thanks.”
But Scott was confused. “What does that look like?” Devon considered him with curiosity. “I mean, if they wanted you to just be your other persona. What did they want you to do or be?”
Devon flicked at some imaginary fuzz in the air. “Basically, special status. Wanted to live the dream of fucking—sorry, sleeping with a rockstar, and wanted everyone to know it. He expected free tickets, t-shirts, backstage passes, cars, trips, I don't even know—”
Scott cupped the back of Devon’s head, gently rubbing at the taut muscles of his neck. “I get the picture. So, no free stuff for me?”
Devon grinned lazily. “Anything for you.”
Awkward was the word of the moment and Scott retreated a little. He had to be sure of what he was doing, of what he wanted. Devon was all Southern charm and sweet words, but Scott had to protect himself, even if he didn't want to. “So that's why you didn't tell me? You thought I'd turn into some rabid fan when I found out?”
With a shrug, Devon shifted so he was further up the headboard. Perhaps this wasn't the best place for the conversation, but Devon looked resigned to talk, not fool around. Scott wasn't sure if he liked or disliked that. “I was nervous too, you know? I liked you, but I knew you weren’t into the same things as me.”
“Maybe you should have asked me if I like horrible screaming music.”
Devon chuckled. “Harsh, man.”
“I might have liked watching you though,” Scott admitted, dipping his head. He rested it on Devon's chest. “Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked quietly.
“Definitely. I came close a couple of times. Think I even wrote a text but never sent it. Didn't think that was the right way to do it. But I wasn't sure how you'd take it, and then so much time passed. I'm really sorry.”
“Okay.” Scott could hear the truth in his words. He wasn't prepared to deal with them yet. “What about the band?”
“The band?” Devon squinted down at him.
“Did you really name it Smokey Grey after your cat?”
Devon let out a tiny laugh. “Guilty. Have you seen the logo? That's my little boy snarling up a storm.”
“That’s so sweet,” Scott commented. “Okay back to sex—”
“Excuse me?”
“What about the guys?”
Devon tugged Scott's hair. “Are you asking if I sleep with my bandmates?” Scott nodded against him. “That's a big no.”
“None of them gay or bi?”
“Bull is. He plays the electric guitar, and well you know Shadow is married. Was married. I don't even know how to say that anymore. Shaun…Shadow and I experimented a bit when we were young, but he told me I was gross,” Devon said, shaking his head at the memory. “Wolfie has been with Charlene for years. Sleeping with Bull would be like fucking a brother though. That's really disgusting.”
“Do you have a brother?”
“Nope. Only child. Except Shaun, I mean Shadow. Sorry, I’m not sure which name to use most of the time. Anyhow, he moved in with us when he was thirteen after his dad beat the snot out of him one too many times. He did his senior year with me in Vancouver after Katrina.”
“But you knew Beth in school too?”
Devon nodded. “Beth moved here with us too. Not much family life either. Guess she couldn't stand to be away from her guy and his awesome best friend.”
“Wow. There is a lot of history there. And your mom…your mom took care of three teenagers in a foreign country after such a terrible loss. Sounds like she was a rockstar in her own right.”
Devon's expression was melancholy. “Toughest lady I ever met. She didn't take shit from any of us let me tell you. But everyone loved her. So, do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Sister and nephew. You met him. He thinks you walk on water.”
Devon smirked. “Guess he's got good taste like his uncle.” Scott frowned up at him. “Too soon? Okay next question.”
Hmm. Scott needed something meatier and a little risqué before he got down to business. “When you're on stage, do you, um…do you, you know, get excited?”
Devon’s mischievous gaze told Scott everything he needed to know. “It’s an adrenaline rush for sure, and yeah, my wood sometimes goes to half-mast. I think it's cuz I love doing it. It's not a thing or person that gets me going. Guess I'm a bit of an exhibitionist.” He snickered and Scott joined in for a moment.
“Are the sounds you make when you sing actual words or just screaming noise?”
Devon full-out laughed at that, sleepy eyes squinted into slits. His chest rocked Scott up and down with the force. He took a deep breath and replied, “Both I guess. I write all the songs and they are real songs. Not your thing, huh?”
“God no. I swear I was picking blood out of my ears for days.” Scott snorted while Devon’s eyes opened wider.
“Jerk,” Devon grumbled, mouth falling open while he reached over and cuffed Scott on the side of the head. He left his hand on Scott’s shoulder. Scott kind of liked it.
Focus. “And the jazz club? Were you there looking for someone to hit on?”
Shaking his head, Devon fingered Scott's collarbone. “Nope. I was tired and bored, and I do actually like jazz. Didn't want to go anywhere loud and rowdy so that’s where I ended up. Was hoping to not get recognized,” Devon said, with a stifled yawn. He looked exhausted but offered a sleepy smile. “Second question. I had no intention of getting my rocks off that night. Wasn't looking to hook up.”
Scott let his gaze drift so he wasn’t away Devon’s steely scrutiny. “Why me then?”
Devon shrugged, fingers playing along the neck of Scott’s t-shirt. “I thought you were hot. Simple as that. Just because I sing to bangers doesn't mean they’re my type. You’re my type.”
Steady. “I call bullshit, but I only have one more question,” Scott hinted. He exhaled through his nose, long and hopeful.
“It's the truth but go ahead. I'm ready.”
Scott shored up all his courage. This was the toughie. The whole ball of wax. The elephant in the room that had been taunting him since the dressing room—
“Scott?”
Oh yeah, focus. Scott drew in a breath, held it then asked, “Who were you kissing in the dressing room?”
Devon manhandled Scott so they were sitting side-by-side. He tilted his head, confusion obvious on his tired face. “I don't understand.”
“Okay, you know I was there last weekend, right?”
Devon looked sheepish. “Charlene and Marshall told me. I was really worried but wasn't sure why you were there. I don't think I even saw you.”
“Then I did my job perfectly,” Scott joked. Devon didn't look amused. “I only mean I was a mess. Thank god for Charlene. She's really nice. When I showed up, Marshall told me where you were and I almost walked in on…you were hugging someone but then you kissed him too. I kinda lost my mind and ended up embarrassing myself into the next decade I'm sure.”
“Kissing someone? I don't remember—oh wait. That was Shadow. Long blond hair, right?”
Oh shit. How had that fact escaped Scott? He'd even seen the guy on stage with Devon. “But you, you know, kissed him on the mouth.”
“Yeah, that's something we've always done. Think I got it from my mom. She was very European even after living here most of her life. That's what you saw? Shit, I'm sorry.” Devon appeared shook up. “I can't believe you came to see me after I was such a jerk when you brought your nephew.”
“Th
at wasn't all you. I did call you a selfish and narcissistic prick.”
“Prick? I don’t remember—”
“That might have only been in my head,” Scott admitted.
“Did you mean it?” Devon looked like he wanted to kiss Scott, but Scott held back.
He shrugged, remembering the moment vividly. “No. I was upset that you thought I was more than I really am.”
“Oh, I remember now. You were putting yourself down again. I can't…why do you do that? You have to see you're a special person, Scott.”
Scott tried to shrug it off, but his voice was shaky. “Just how I am I guess. Never had much positive enforcement in my life.”
“Well you deserve all the positive stuff.”
Scott let the subject go. “What about us? Do you even have room in your life for a boyfriend or you know whatever we are…were?”
“All the time in the world.” Devon spoke without hesitation. He lifted Scott's hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I've never been looking for sex, not for a long time anyhow. I'm too old for that shit.”
“Seriously?”
“Let me finish. I'm simply saying the sex was how we started but that's not what it is for me anymore.”
“It's not? Um, okay, so are you looking for something, you know, long-term or just the Saturday-Sunday game we’ve been playing?” Scott asked in a rush of words.
Devon’s face changed from confused to sincere in the blink of an eye. He molded his hand around the ball of Scott’s shoulder and squeezed. “I want you every day of the week, Scott, and I don’t mean that in just a sexual way. My mom always called me a nester.” He paused when Scott giggled. “I know, right? But it's kinda true. I want to build a life with someone and I really hope it's you.”
Scott was left a tad speechless. It was a lot to swallow at ass-o'clock in the night or morning or whatever. Logic told him to use caution, but his heart wasn’t on the same wavelength. Something desperate niggled at his brain, something draped in curiosity, a fear he might actually be able to conquer. It was a thread he was dying to pull on but wanted to avoid at the same time. Odds-on, it was the worst thing he could do to himself, yet the desperate swelling of his heart, the buzzing and writhing of every nerve in his body like some failed science experiment, sent him over the edge.