Syncopation

by Anna Zabo

  After the sound check, they headed back to the lounge and dressing rooms. Dom ducked out to the bus for his book and Mish was hanging out with the crew, which left him and Ray alone as they made their way to the dressing rooms. Ray gave him a look that was sly and full of teeth, and slipped into one of the rooms. Well now, someone wanted a little action. Zavier followed and shut the door.

  Ray leaned up against the vanity on the far side of the room. “I figured we had a few moments by ourselves.”

  “So we do. Which makes me wonder why you’re over there and not kneeling at my feet.” Zavier pointed to the floor in front of him.

  A lovely blush crept up Ray’s neck, and he was across the room and on his knees in an instant.

  Good. While they’d set ground rules, they hadn’t talked about how they’d start scenes, especially given the limited time and privacy they had. Zavier ran his fingers through Ray’s hair. “You can always kneel if you want to play, Ray. Or ask me to fuck you, or however you wish. But if you don’t want to, simply say ‘red’ and I’ll back off.”

  “Safeword for even starting?” He looked up. “I’m saying yes now.”

  Indeed, he was. Large pupils. Slight trembles. All that lovely tension. “I don’t want to be manhandling you and pressing you against a wall if that’s not your thing. Consent is sexy.”

  Ray smiled. “That—I want that. Yeah, maybe not always, but I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Or the wrong time. But please, please, surprise me. I need—” He took a breath. “I want to surrender. Make me.”

  Oh, that was just too good to pass up. He tightened his hand in Ray’s hair. “You remember how I taught you to touch yourself?”

  No nodding—his hand was too tight in Ray’s hair. “Yeah. I remember.”

  “Get your dick out and show me. Slowly.”

  He didn’t loosen his hold in Ray’s hair, but Ray obeyed—and nearly perfectly, too. Took that hard cock out of his pants and into his hand and stroked its length so slowly. Teased the head. Pressed into the slit. Twisted and slid.

  He panted. “Can I touch my balls?”

  “Yes.”

  Such a show at his feet. Ray, his eyes closed, his mouth open, jacking himself off. Fondling his nuts. If they didn’t have a show in a few hours, Zavier would have whipped out his own dick and fucked Ray’s mouth.

  Ray hissed. “Fuck.” Oh, he was close. Tempting to let him come, but even more to let him dance on stage and sing unsatisfied.

  “Stop.”

  Ray flicked his eyes opened and sighed, but he stopped. And that was lovely, too. The obedience. “You’re gonna make me wait.”

  “As I said before.” Zavier stepped in and pressed his hard length against Ray’s face. “And you’re still not alone in that.”

  Ray nuzzled Zavier’s jeans-covered shaft with his lips and nose. “You should wear leather tonight.”

  Zavier pulled back on Ray’s hair. “Up, please.”

  Ray rose, his jeans hanging open, and Zavier spun him around. “Hands on the vanity.” He spoke the order into Ray’s ear.

  A little moan, and Ray obeyed. A few taps of Zavier’s hands against the inside of Ray’s thighs had him spreading his legs so nicely. All the tension fled from Ray’s body. “Zav...”

  “You like this?” He stroked down Ray’s sides. So much clothing between them, but Ray still moved under his touch. Liquid and needy.

  “Yeah. Can’t think when you do this. Don’t wanna...”

  That was part of the point. Zavier chuckled and peeled Ray’s pants and underwear down, exposing his ass. “Oh, that’s nice.” He ran his fingers over the bite mark he’d left. Not a deep bruise, but enough for both of them to know what it was. There was also a smattering of light bruising from the spanking. “I can’t wait to lay a crop on you. Or a flogger.”

  “I—want that.” Ray was breathless. “At least try.”

  Deep thrumming sounded through the room. Five Asylum’s sound checks. Zavier pressed a hand against Ray’s back. “Oh, we will.” He stroked one side of Ray’s ass, then slapped it. Hard.

  Ray yelped, and Zavier held him in place. A bass refrain cut through the air and before Ray could settle, Zavier spanked the other cheek. “So here’s a little rule when we’re playing like this: you don’t tell me what I should do.”

  “Oh fuck. Zav—I—”

  Another blow, then another. And more until he’d laid down ten blows to each cheek.

  Ray groaned, but through it all, he hadn’t moved much. Hadn’t tried to cover his ass. Which said something.

  Zavier ran his hand over Ray’s ass cheeks. “Was that too much?”

  A hiccupped laugh, then a whisper. “No.” Ray bowed his head. “I liked it. I hated it too, but I liked it.” He chuckled again. “Which I guess kind of defeats the purpose of punishing me.”

  “Not at all.” Zavier skimmed his fingers between the cheeks and brushed Ray’s hole, which earned him a deeper moan. “It leaves you hot and bothered and wanting me, which is its own punishment.”

  Ray sighed. “Yeah. I’ll give you that.”

  Zavier tapped his ass lightly. “Get dressed. As much as I’m enjoying this, we’re pushing our luck.”

  Ray moved slowly and carefully, but in a short time was relatively decent again, albeit with an impressive bulge in his pants. Not that Zavier could fault him. His own erection bordered on painful.

  When Ray was done, he met Zavier’s gaze. “Can I at least ask for a kiss?” That sly smile was back.

  Zavier grabbed the back of Ray’s neck and kissed that grin right off him. They moaned and melted and ground against each other—not so much a scene anymore, but two men desperate to tangle into each other until they both got what they wanted.

  Ray broke the kiss. “Okay, maybe that was a bad idea.”

  Zavier dug his fingers into Ray’s tender ass and savored the way they moved against each other. He could get off just on that. “I don’t know. I like your mouth, Ray.”

  “And you haven’t even fucked it yet.” A murmur of words in his ear.

  They eased apart. “Don’t tempt me. You need that instrument of yours.”

  Ray scrubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. I should probably go pre-game with tea.”

  Yeah, that would be wise. Zavier stepped forward and claimed another kiss. “Go. I’ll start getting changed.”

  Man, that smile was really everything. It looked so good on Ray, so easy. He gave a little salute and slipped out the dressing room door.

  Zavier sank down into the nearest chair and cast a look around. He hadn’t been planning on leather tonight—it was hotter than hell out—but maybe he could compromise with something on the tighter side. Or really loose.

  This is different, his mind whispered. And it was. It had been a long time, and if he were being truthful, the first time he’d enjoyed a partner both in and out of bed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Another show that blew the previous ones away. Ray didn’t comprehend how they’d done it, only that they had. Top of their game. Every note perfect. The songs, the crowd, the way Dom stalked across the stage. Mish’s stellar solo that had both men and women tossing their underwear on the stage. Hell, he wanted to whip his out, too, if only because of her playing.

  Zavier wasn’t wearing his fucking sexy-ass leather pants, but he’d lined one wrist and arm with leather bands and a stylish cuff. The pants he wore were flowing and slit from the cuff up the sides, high enough you could almost see his package.

  Almost. A shame Ray couldn’t—though he’d tasted that dick on his tongue. Felt it inside him.

  God, his ass hurt, and maybe that was why he’d danced so hard. The moment he stopped, it stung like fuck, but if he moved, the burn was good.

  He’d never thought he’d like being ordered around, or spanked, or any of
that. But with Zav, it seemed so...natural. Right.

  The signing line was kind of hell with a burning ass and a dick that wanted nothing more than to be fondled and stroked by the drummer next to him.

  Zavier’s attention was currently on the young woman before him. “Classical is a superb way to learn rhythms beyond the standard 4/4 or the outrageous 6/8.” He winked at the girl and signed her poster. “Seriously, though, don’t give up on orchestra. Use what you know for rock.” She nodded and moved on.

  Fuck, Zavier really was too much. Part of Ray figured he was in way over his head, but the other part kept repeating what Zavier had said—that Ray was a fine musician. Dom said it, and Mish, too. Carl said the opposite.

  Ray shook himself and smiled up at the next fan. “Hey, how ya doing?”

  The young dark-skinned man stammered, “Fine.” Then continued with “Oh my god, that was the best concert I’ve ever been to.” Which got mashed into “This is my boyfriend and I just came out to my parents and they were okay with it and I’ll stop now.” The kid blinked. “Thank you.”

  Indeed, he was holding hands with another kid, who blushed and waved. “Hi.”

  “Hey, you guys. Congrats! That’s all wonderful.” They had Twisted Wishes T-shirts, and he scrawled his signature on them. “You two keep being yourselves, no matter what the world tells you, okay?”

  They beamed and moved away so the next person could talk to him.

  Yeah, he needed to listen to Zav. And himself.

  The signings took forever, but they weren’t leaving until the last person came through the line. After that, they piled back on the bus and collapsed as they took off for yet another city. Phoenix this time. They’d get another break when they got to Utah and a longer one in California. Ray couldn’t fucking wait. Yeah, the concerts were phenomenal, but they did wear on the body and mind after a while. How did Gregor Daye do it in his fifties? Ray was twenty-six and could barely manage.

  He glanced over at Zavier, who was back in jeans and a T-shirt, but those leather bracelets and cuff were still on his arm. Ray stared at Zavier’s wrist. What it would be like to have cuffs of a very different sort on his wrists?

  Zavier raised an eyebrow and smiled, as if he knew.

  But the bus was moving, and Mish and Dom were here, so it wasn’t like anything was going to happen. Didn’t keep his mind and dick from wanting Zavier’s hands and mouth on him. That cock in his ass.

  They chatted for a while, going over the best bits of the concert. Mish had loved opening with “White Hot Midnight,” while Dom had loved the acoustical set.

  “What about you?” Dom lounged on the couch and looked about ready to fall asleep.

  “It’s hard to choose just one,” Ray said. And it was true. His mind flitted between the fans and the music and the fucking colors in his head. All of it sang in his blood, but the cries of the fans and their smiles and wide eyes in the signing lines stood out most of all.

  “That seems unfair,” Zavier murmured. He was stretched out like always, feet against Ray. “You made everyone else pick.”

  “Not you.” He met those very blue eyes. “What was your favorite moment?”

  Zavier took a deep breath and held Ray enwrapped with his stare. “When you dashed out into the crowd and sang ‘Bleeding Roses’ with the woman who had tears in her eyes.”

  Heat to Ray’s cheeks. Her name had been Charlie, and she’d thanked him in such a husky voice when they’d finished. Her favorite song. He’d no idea why it had moved her so, but it didn’t matter. “The fans are always my favorite moments.”

  The smile that danced over Zavier’s lips was heat and light and wrapped itself into Ray’s soul.

  Eventually, they all crawled into their bunks, murmuring their good-nights. Ray considered jerking off, but somehow he got the feeling that would disappoint Zavier, especially after the band’s conversation. Besides, there was something sensual and edgy about the tension in his body and mind. Good tension for a change, not anxiety.

  He should have pulled out his notebook, because little snippets of the song he was starting to think of as “Dare to Be” flitted in his mind. More words. Burgundy hues and blue like Zavier’s eyes all slipped and floated behind his eyelids until they twisted and slipped away into nothing at all. Later, awareness crept back in, along with his bladder screaming at him. Fuck. All that water during the show. The bus was quiet but for the rumble of the road and Dom’s quiet snores. Hopefully Ray wouldn’t wake anyone.

  He slipped out of his bunk and headed to the back of the bus. When he was finished and he’d washed his hands, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. This part of touring wasn’t exactly what he’d dreamed of when he’d imagined being a rock star. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he was a star. Everything seemed elusive, but that might have been the hour and the haze of sleep that still clung to him. He shut off the light and headed out into the lounge.

  The privacy curtain was drawn across the entry to the rest of the bus and a small reading light had been turned on over the couch, illuminating Zavier’s black hair, his naked chest, and his gray sweatpants. Ray let out a breath, and every part of his body rejoiced.

  Like before, he crossed the space between them and knelt down, clasping his hands behind his back. Zavier didn’t utter a word, just slid a hand into Ray’s hair and tightened his grip.

  The sweet, sharp tugging against his scalp sent lust straight to his balls. He’d always loved his hair pulled and Zav seemed to have homed right in on that.

  Zavier still didn’t speak, but his smile melted Ray’s bones. With his free hand, he pulled out the hard dick tenting his sweatpants and stroked. In the reading light, precome beaded in the slit. His abs quivered and his sweats slid down when he shifted.

  Even though instinct screamed to bend forward and take that taste, Ray didn’t. He relished the tight hold on his head, and gave into that. Whatever happened, Zav would make it good. Maybe painful, definitely pleasurable, and hopefully Ray would feel every bit in the morning.

  Zavier’s grunt was one of satisfaction. He pulled Ray toward his dick and whispered, “Just the tip.”

  Ray closed his mouth around the head of the cock he so desperately wanted and licked every bit of salt he could from the slit. He sucked and mouthed what he’d been given, throwing his entire being into pleasing Zavier.

  The grip in his hair loosened. “You’re fucking unreal, Ray.” Satisfaction and pleasure in his voice. “You’re making it very hard for me not to fuck your throat.”

  God, he wanted to give Zavier that. Worship him fully from his knees. Taste Zav’s come in his mouth. He moaned.

  “I know you’d like that.” Zavier tugged him off. “You love being on your knees for me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Ray met that hot stare. “So much.” Reminded him of the days when he was first putting Twisted Wishes together. Money was tight, and he’d found several very enjoyable ways to earn some cash. No shame in trading his body for payment. Hell, in a way he still did that with the singing. With Zav, giving a blowjob was better. More intense. Personal. Pleasing him? God, that was a fucking high.

  Zavier pulled at his hair. “Stand up and strip.” He let go.

  The bus might have swayed, or maybe that was his heart and brain, but Ray did as told, kicking his own pants away and waited for the next order.

  Zavier stood and shucked his sweats, and pulled Ray to him until they were chest to chest with a warm hand firmly around the back of Ray’s neck. Their cocks brushed, and Ray couldn’t help thrusting just a little.

  The way Zavier’s smile sharpened only made him moan.

  A click of his tongue. “You were doing so well, too.” He pressed a finger to Ray’s lips and whispered, “Not a sound. You don’t want to wake the others.” Those clever fingers drifted down to tease Ray’s nipple. The other had stayed clamped around his neck.
>
  He had a pretty good idea what would happen, but it still took all of his energy not to cry out when Zavier pinched and pulled and rolled the nub mercilessly. God, the pain and the ecstasy. He melted against Zavier, who pressed his thigh between Ray’s legs.

  Hot words in Ray’s ears. “Fuck yourself on me.”

  He did, gripping Zavier and rutting against him, abandoning all sense of propriety, control, decency. All the while, Zavier abused his nipple and ghosted kisses over his shoulder.

  “Should I mark you, Ray? Let the press know I’m fucking you?”

  Oh god, yes. Yes. The desire to answer clashed with the order not to speak. He chanced it anyway. “If that’s what you want, Zav. I—yeah.”

  Zavier let up on his one nipple and switched hands so he could toy with the other, untouched one. “What I want is every bit of you screaming for me.” He kissed Ray’s shoulder. “Now, no sounds.”

  Zavier bit Ray’s shoulder and clamped fingers around his nipple, yanking hard. The agony was amazing and wonderful, and Ray couldn’t breathe. He could barely stand. Wanted to slide down Zavier’s body and do whatever the hell he commanded. Everything existed only in that moment between the white heat of pain and the glory of pleasure beating through his blood.

  Ray didn’t come. Kind of felt like that, but he was still hard and panting and pressing against Zavier, even as he was being held upright because his legs were jelly.

  “You’re so incredible like this, Ray. You should see yourself.” Zavier kissed his neck. “Over to the couch. Kneeling. Hands behind your back and head down.”

  Zavier guided him, which was good. The words made sense, and he wanted to obey, but he was so fucking high he wasn’t sure he was moving right or doing what he needed to. Zavier’s tugging and pressing and stroking got him into the right position.

  Ray’s rasping breath sounded in his ears as he pressed his forehead against the leather of the couch. He needed this. Every ounce of him needed to be grabbed and fucked and given over to Zavier.