by Ryan Field
After he unpacked the few things he’d brought from New York, he headed downstairs to see if he could find Harrison and Sam. Nico seemed to like the huge king size bed. He was resting on it comfortably when Morton sent him a look and said, “Let’s go downstairs now and explore.”
As he walked through the first floor of the house he found more of the same. It was all wonderful, and spotlessly clean, but empty and lacking the final touches that make a house a home. Even though Morton had always preferred a minimalist look, this was different because it didn’t look as though anyone other than the maid who cleaned it cared very much. He would work on this in time. There was no rush. His main concern at that moment was to find Harrison and start rehearsing for their performance at Coachella.
At the end of a long hall on the first floor, not far from a large kitchen with dark beams on the ceiling and rust colored tiles on the floor, he heard Harrison and Sam talking. He followed their voices to the end of the hall and found them in a large room that had been converted into a music studio. Harrison was pouring himself a tall glass of vodka and Sam was pacing the room with a serious expression.
Harrison looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. He raised his glass and said, “Hey, there they are. How is everything? Did you find the bedroom okay?”
Morton noticed that Sam didn’t appear happy, so he entered the room and said, “Yes. Everything is fine. The house is wonderful. I love Palm Springs. And I met Dustin outside and his husband is a stylist in town. He’s going to help me prepare for our performance at Coachella, and I’ve never been more relieved.”
“Excellent,” Harrison said. He looked at Sam. “You see. Morton has it all under control. Things always work out for the best.”
Sam stopped pacing and sent him a glare. “So they say.”
Nico had jumped up on a brown leather sofa by then and he was watching Sam as if he couldn’t figure him out. The dog seemed to sense there was tension in the room even more than Morton did.
Harrison shrugged Sam’s comment off and he asked if Morton wanted a drink.
Morton walked into the room and sat down on the sofa next to Nico and said, “What’s wrong? You two look as if someone died.”
Harrison smiled even more, as if he had to force himself. “It’s nothing. You know Sam. He’s always gloom and doom. Everything is wonderful.”
Morton looked at Sam, and Sam returned the look with a half-smile and said, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m the one who always faces reality.”
They both seemed so serious, and the room was filled with so much tension, Morton didn’t want to make it worse. He’d read about Harrison’s issues with money and taxes, and he’d noticed that the press was starting to publish negative stories about him. Although Harrison didn’t seem to care, Sam took it so seriously he couldn’t hide his emotions. For now, Morton thought it would be a good idea to change the subject and focus on something positive, something they could all look forward to.
So he sat up a little higher and said, “I’d like to start rehearsing tonight if that’s okay. You know how much I need to rehearse to feel comfortable. I want us to be good together, and I want you to direct me.”
“Sure,” Harrison said. “You can start rehearsing tonight.”
Sam and Morton exchanged a glance.
Morton shifted his gaze to Harrison and asked, “What about you?”
Harrison finished his vodka and started to pour another. “About rehearsing,” he said. “I’m not going to be rehearsing with you for this.”
“You’re not?” Morton asked.
“No,” Harrison said. “I’m taking a little break. I’ve decided that you’re going solo with this one. This is your chance and I want you to do this on your own.”
Morton stood up fast. He felt his face getting warm. “What are you talking about? I can’t do this alone. I thought we were going to do this together. I’ve been planning on that. And I can’t carry the entire performance alone. I’m not ready.”
Harrison finished the second glass of vodka and walked over to kiss him on the mouth. It was a quick kiss, and then he turned to leave. On his way out of the room he said, “Of course you can. They’ll love you. I’m just going to sit this one out and watch you do your magic, cutie.”
Then he left Morton alone in the room with Sam, and Nico didn’t try to follow him.
“What happened?” Morton asked Sam. “I thought it was all set that we would work together this time. I want us to work together so I can keep an eye on him.”
Sam sent him a deadpan stare and said, “I’m not totally sure. And I’m not thrilled about it either. But it might be the best thing for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look, we both love Harrison and we’re both totally devoted to him,” Sam said. “But you have a lot of promise and I can help you. If you want, I can manage you and Harrison. I like you and I think you’ve got a lot of talent. If you trust me, and you think you can work with me, I promise you that you won’t regret it.”
“Well of course I trust you,” Morton said. He’d seen how dedicated Sam was to Harrison, even when Harrison was behaving badly and didn’t deserve it. “Of course I want you to manage me. I obviously need all the help I can get now. But what about Harrison? What do we do about him? It’s like he’s on this self-destructive train ride and he doesn’t know how to stop and get off.”
Sam turned and headed toward the doorway and said, “I’m not sure about that anymore. I’m not even sure we can help him at this point.”
“Well I’m not going to let that happen,” Morton said. “I’ll figure something out. I know how to handle him. You’ll see.” At least he thought he did, but he wasn’t totally sure about that, and Sam didn’t seem eager enough to wait around to question him.
Chapter Fifteen
In the days leading up to The Coachella Music Festival, Morton didn’t see much of Harrison. Morton was too busy working with Dustin’s talented husband, Jake, on his wardrobe and rehearsing in the studio with the band. He saw more of Nico than he did of his own husband that week, and this was supposed to be their honeymoon. So the day before his performance at Coachella he decided to show Harrison a few of the costumes he would be wearing. Even though he normally dressed in gender neutral everyday clothes, he considered his clothing for performances costumes because they had to be a larger than real life. His dads had taught him well in that department, and Jake totally agreed. In fact, if it had been left up to Jake, Morton would have been wearing full drag. It took a while to explain the look Morton wanted to Jake, and the message he was trying to convey to people with his brand of drag.
He found Harrison upstairs in the master bedroom lounging in the middle of their king size bed. It had grown cooler that night and there was a soft fire burning. While he’d been rehearsing all week, Harrison had been outside working on a fence at the far end of the property that overlooked South Palm Springs and Indian Canyon, or playing poker at a country club in Rancho Mirage. When he wasn’t outside working on the fence or playing poker, he was inside drinking vodka, with music blaring all through the house. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about Coachella or performing or any of this other financial problems, and Morton was starting to get worried about that. He’d been hoping Harrison would help him rehearse but so far he’d done it alone with the band and Sam.
The one thing Morton wasn’t worried about was their love life. No matter how tired he was from working all day, or how disinterested Harrison seemed about everything else, they still found time each night to make love. The down side to this was Morton began to realize this seemed to be the one thing they had in common. Morton had always been structured, focused on rehearsing to perfection and organizing his life in detail. He was a realist. Harrison didn’t seem to care about planning ahead or striving to be the best. He acted on the spur of the moment, and didn’t seem to care if there were consequences. He was a reckless dreamer and he seemed to be gambling with his lif
e the same way he gambled with poker.
While Harrison was reading something on his phone, Morton barged into the bedroom and threw his arms in the air. “How do you like it? This is one of my costumes for the show.” He was wearing one of the costumes they’d been working on all week. It was a tight black mini-dress, but made out of some kind of stretchy see-through fishnet material that left nothing to the imagination. On his feet he wore black stilettos that were so high he’d had to practice walking in them earlier.
Harrison glanced up from his phone and blinked. “Damn. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but you could get arrested in that outfit in public.”
Morton laughed and said, “Don’t be silly. This isn’t how I’m going to wear it on stage. This is just part of the costume. I’ll cover up all the important parts for the performance. This is the version that I wanted to show you. Just you and no one else.” He turned around in a circle. “How do you like it?”
Harrison grabbed his junk and said, “Oh, I like it. And I’m gonna show you just how much I like it.” Even though he always showed Morton how excited these outfits made him, he didn’t seem to have a fetish about anything in particular. All week Morton had dressed like any other young guy in Palm Springs, wearing shorts, T-shirts and flip flops, and Harrison was still eager to get him into bed. Harrison didn’t seem to have any fetishes at all.
Morton slowly crossed to the bed and climbed up at the foot of the bed. Harrison was only wearing boxer shorts and he leaned over to kiss Harrison’s big toe. He looked up and said, “Just be careful you don’t get too rough and tear anything. This is part of my main costume for the show tomorrow.”
Harrison set his phone on the bed and crawled to the foot of the bed with a huge smile. He grabbed the hem of the mini-dress, which stopped short just below Morton’s crotch, and pulled it up over his head. As he tossed it across the bedroom, he grabbed Morton by the shoulders and leaned over to bury his face in Morton’s neck. He kissed and bit him in such a playful way Morton closed his eyes and reached for Harrison’s biceps.
His beard made Morton’s entire body go weak, his strong hands caused Morton to submit to anything he wanted, and just touching his biceps brought Morton’s erection to life. He loved this man so much he would do anything to please him. He loved his body, his mind and his soul equally and he couldn’t believe he’d been lucky enough to marry a man like this. He would have felt this way if Harrison hadn’t been a wealthy rock star, and if Harrison hadn’t given him a break in the music industry. This love, this emotion, and all this passion went deeper than anything Morton had ever dreamed was possible. And when he was with Harrison, in his arms and totally at peace, he found it hard to believe that he’d once settled for so much less with other men.
He smelled of vodka and traces of marijuana, but that didn’t stop Morton from going down between his legs and pulling his cock out of his boxer shorts. He didn’t even bother to pull the boxer shorts off that night. He grabbed Harrison’s cock with one hand and his balls with the other and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. As he wrapped his lips around it, he forced himself to move a little slower. He grew so eager and desperate when he was sucking Harrison’s dick he had to concentrate on taking his time so he wouldn’t ruin the moment.
There was never a set pattern to their love-making, which left them both experiencing something new and different each time they made love. That night they kissed a great deal, and Harrison even went down on him for a while. Although Harrison tended to be the more dominant top, and he was always more eager to get his dick sucked than he was to suck Morton’s dick, he wasn’t without his own surprises in bed. Morton didn’t mind one way or the other. In a general sense, the thing that worked the best in their relationship was the fact that they were total opposites in bed, and each of them seemed to crave something different. Morton knew that wasn’t easy to find, and he’d been with his fair share of guys who had been too much like him in bed.
On that night Harrison surprised him by sucking his dick and eating his ass. The second Harrison went down between his legs to rim him he spread his legs wide and moaned. When Harrison’s beard touched the lips of his anus, every nerve ending in his body experienced a sensation of sexual pleasure. And when Harrison started licking and probing between his legs he leaned up a little and forced Harrison’s head to go deeper. Very few lovers had ever done this to Morton, and taken so long to do it. When Harrison rimmed him he did it with the same kind of passion that Morton used when he sucked Harrison’s dick.
By the time Harrison lifted his head from between Morton’s legs, there was no need for lube. Morton spread his legs wider and arched his back. While Morton threw his arms all the way back, Harrison pressed the head of his cock to Morton’s anus and entered him slowly with nothing but saliva for lube. He was all ready to take him completely. This was the best part for Morton. This is what all the foreplay and passion had been leading to since they’d started. It was always nice to have a man’s dick in his body, but it was outrageously magnificent to have the dick of the man he loved in his body. He’d never truly known what it meant when he heard people talk about two people becoming one. He’d always thought it was just an exaggerated expression that overly romantic people use when they have nothing left to say.
Now he knew, and that’s what it felt like for Morton. When Harrison was inside him, and he was moving in and out of his body, Morton felt as if they’d formed one bond that could never be broken. For that brief moment in time he could experience something so wonderful it felt as though he’d crossed into a supernatural world where there were no boundaries or rules, where nothing sexual was dirty. He’d been with Harrison enough times by then to expect certain things. Harrison always moved a little faster before he came. His face grew a little redder and his balls started slapping against the bottom of Morton’s ass. This would be followed with a few grunts and moans. Then Harrison would plunge into him as deeply as possible, come inside him, and remain perfectly still for a minute or two.
After Morton came, Harrison leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. He always did this before he pulled out, and then he said, “I love you, cutie. There’s no one else like you, and there never will be.”
Morton caressed his shoulders and said, “I love you, too.”
As Harrison pulled out, he laughed and said, “I just hope you don’t wind up killing me.”
Morton lowered his legs and looked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Harrison scratched his dick and said, “Well, you’re a lot younger, and you’ve got one hot ass. I can’t get enough of it.”
Morton smiled. “Well, if you’re not up to it we can always just cuddle. A lot of people like that.” He wouldn’t have minded just cuddling, but he knew this would get a reaction. Harrison had strong opinions about some things.
“Fuck cuddling,” Harrison said. “We’re gay men. If I want to cuddle I’ll get a stuffed animal. I wanna fuck.” Then he stopped for a moment, and he sent Morton a gaze. “Unless you want to cuddle. I mean, if that’s something you really want I could do that. You know I’d do anything for you.”
He always did this. He always said something crude and vulgar followed by something wonderful. Morton turned over and got up on his knees. He smiled at Harrison and said, “Let’s keep things the way they are for the time being. And if you ever get too tired or too old to fuck, we know we can always cuddle. How’s that?”
Harrison reached forward to slap his ass and said, “It’s a deal, cutie.”
“Ouch, that hurt,” Morton said. He didn’t really mind. He liked getting spanked.
“Hey, cutie, are you going to the kitchen after you clean up?”
He knew Morton always went to the bathroom to clean up after sex. Morton had never been a sloppy bottom. “I wasn’t planning to, but what do you want?”
He gazed at him with a simple, innocent expression that melted Morton’s heart all over again. “If it’s not too much trouble, br
ing me that pie in the refrigerator, and a fork.”
“The whole pie?” Morton asked.
“Well I’m hungry,” Harrison said. “I need my strength to keep up with you.”
Morton had seen this before. It was another difference in their basic personalities. Morton never ate more than a sliver of pie, if he had that. He had to watch his body because he couldn’t afford to gain weight. Harrison never seemed to care about his diet. A sliver of pie wouldn’t have been enough. He had to eat the whole pie in one sitting in order to feel satisfied. And he never gained a single pound.
“Is there anything else you want?” Morton said, as he climbed out of bed. He’d had his legs up in the air for so long he felt wobbly wearing the black stilettos. But he figured it was good practice for the performance.
“Nope, I’m good,” Harrison said. He’d picked up his phone and he was staring at it again.
Morton crossed the room to pick up the sheer mini-dress that Harrison had thrown, and then headed to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back with your pie.”
“Thanks, cutie,” Harrison said.
When Morton returned about 15 minutes later, he found Harrison sitting up in bed still looking at his phone. Morton had showered and put on a pair of Harrison’s boxer shorts and an old paint-stained white cotton T-shirt. Although they were a size and a half too large for him, he liked the way he felt in something that Harrison had worn.
He set the pie on the bed next to Harrison and handed him a fork. “Have fun,” he said, knowing Harrison would probably eat the whole thing. It was some kind of lemon curd pie, but not with the usual egg white meringue. This pie had a crumble topping with powdered sugar and it looked more like a coffee cake.