by Jet Mykles
About ten yards away, the dance floor was filled to bursting with people. The DJ played recorded versions of the songs the crowd had just heard an hour ago onstage, further promoting the bands. Members of those bands were milling through the crowd, making connections. Noble was out there somewhere, enjoying himself, and Gordon was networking. Lance had thought by standing in the corner he could just do his normal thing of watching, but so far he hadn’t been very successful. Moreno was the third person to come chat him up.
Lance took a sip of his Jack on the rocks and considered his words. “You’d have to talk to Shelby about that.” Then, after a beat, “Or Gordon, our manager.”
Moreno nodded, dark gaze steady on Lance’s face. “I’ve met Gordon. I took it as a hopeful sign that The Might would start branching out.”
Lance raised his eyebrows and tipped his head in a shadow of a shrug. “It’s possible. I don’t know. I’m just the bass man.”
Laughing, Moreno reached out to pat his shoulder. “And a fine one at that. So who’d you like tonight?”
They chatted some more, both of them watching the crowd. Lance wondered that Moreno spent so much time with him rather than working the crowd, but he wasn’t in charge of the man, so he let it be. After another ten minutes, Moreno shook his hand and excused himself. Lance was left alone with his drink in the middle of a crowd, a comfortable place for him. He sipped and let his attention wander.
This was panning out to be the best birthday he’d had in years. Normally, he and Noble would go out, and Noble would eventually get him laid. This year, Gordon had preempted those nonplans and offered to take him and Noble to Boston for a three-night stand. Four bands a night, three nights in a row, and the club was on the grounds of a pretty swanky hotel, so they got to stay on the premises. Best part, Shelby was footing the bill, since Gordon had sold the weekend as a business expense. Shelby wasn’t thrilled to have Lance and Noble unavailable, but he’d been surprisingly agreeable on the whole.
Eventually, Lance spotted Gordon, who was a gorgeous sight to behold. In a snug green sweater, pristine jeans, and a casual gray jacket thrown over it all, Gordon got almost as much attention as the musicians who had played tonight. After many years in a handful of bands in different cities, Lance had encountered more than his fair share of movers and shakers. He’d grown accustomed to the oily layer of charm most band managers wore like a second skin. It was necessary, after all.
Gordon was different. Or maybe Lance was biased. When a guy was as gorgeous as Gordon, Lance was willing to put up with some slime. But Gordon seemed to just be genuinely good at talking to people. He was actually interested. He watched Gordon charm a woman in a low-cut, shimmery blue halter top. If he hadn’t known Gordon was gay, Lance might have thought to be concerned about losing his bed partner for the night. But he was pretty damn sure Gordon preferred cock, and the woman quite obviously didn’t have one. Or, if she did, she’d done one hell of a job taping it into tight little black shorts.
With that uncomfortable thought, Lance reached down to discreetly hitch his own cock in his loose-fitting jeans, then glanced around to see if he could spot Noble. No luck. He hadn’t seen Noble since after the third band played that night. Curious, he took out his phone and sent a text: Where r u?
He’d finished his drink and ordered a new one from the waiter before his phone buzzed with a response. Backstage. Won’t be back to room tnite. Have good bday fun w Gordon!
Lance grinned. Figured. Noble could find a partner at a Mormon convention. Which meant Lance would have that big suite and Gordon all to himself. Now, if he could just pry Gordon away from yapping, they could get to some serious fucking. The two of them had been at it pretty regularly for seven months now, a whopping record for Lance. They’d still seen other men, but that had been less and less lately. None at all for Lance in the past two months, and he was pretty sure it was the same for Gordon. A little scary, yes, but he chose not to point it out, for fear of ruining a good thing.
He’d just put his phone back in his pocket when Gordon arrived with a fresh drink in hand. “What are you grinning about?” he asked, stroking down Lance’s arm with his free hand.
“Nothing.”
“Hmm.” Gordon took a healthy swig of his drink. “Ah, that hit the spot.” He sighed as he set the glass down. Lance could tell it wasn’t his first. Not that he was swaying or slurring, but his face looked flushed even in the dim lighting, and his eyes had an extra sparkle. Almost the same as when they were having sex. Almost. “So what did you think? See anyone you like?”
Lance looked straight at Gordon’s face. “Yes.”
Gordon grinned. “I meant guitarists.” Shelby still hadn’t found a replacement guitarist, and Gordon had sold this getaway to him as a chance to scope out new people.
“Oh.” Lance shrugged. “A few. How do we know if any of ’em are interested in seeing Shelby?”
“We ask.” He continued to stroke Lance’s arm absently, eyes on the crowd. “Besides, we dangle one of Shelby’s contracts in front of most of these guys, and they’d jump at the chance.” Lance didn’t miss the thinly veiled disdain in Gordon’s voice at the mention of the contracts.
Gordon waved to someone, but Lance couldn’t tell who. “I’m thinking Lew Mercer looked good, and Ben Caselles. I don’t think either of their bands have a future together.”
Lance struggled to remember which men and bands Gordon was talking about. He’d seen eight bands in two nights. “I like the guy in Buchanan.”
“Pete Sanchez.” Gordon nodded. “Great string man. But that band’s locked up. He’s related to three of them.”
“How do you know all this shit?”
Those sharp eyes focused back on Lance with a smile. “That’s part of my job.”
“You’re good at it.”
“Thanks.” Gordon took another sip of his drink. “I just wish Shelby would let me do my job.”
“He lets you do more than I thought he would.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s still not enough.” He gestured around the crowd with one hand. “Look at this. You guys should be playing in this. No, never mind that. You guys should be playing at the fucking Garden, not wasting your time every other weekend at Fletcher’s.”
Lance’s gaze dropped to the table. He quashed the brief dream image of The Might playing Madison Square Garden in front of an audience of thousands. That just wasn’t going to happen.
“Anyway.” Clearly still miffed, Gordon downed the last of his drink. “You seen Noble?”
“He found other entertainment for the night.”
“Did he now?” Lance had all of his attention as Gordon leaned in closer. “Then shouldn’t we be up in the suite fucking our brains out?”
Grinning, Lance stood, deliberately sliding against Gordon’s chest. “We could if you’d quit talking to everyone.”
Gordon snorted and fell back a step to give Lance room to leave the table. “No one else to talk to. Not like Shelby’s interested in what they have to offer.”
Lance thought he might expand on his complaint, but Gordon had obviously moved on to better thoughts. He turned and headed for the entrance to the hotel. Lance left some bills on the table, then followed the man with the spectacular ass.
He told Gordon his opinion of said ass as they entered the elevator.
“‘Spectacular,’ huh?” Gordon asked as Lance backed him against the wall inside. His head thumped lightly on the dark paneling as he tipped it to give Lance better access to the side of his neck.
“Absolutely.”
“Are you gonna fuck my ass?”
After a prolonged, wet kiss, Lance responded with another, “Absolutely.”
The elevator dinged open behind him, so Lance reluctantly had to pull away. Gordon followed him into the deserted hallway and to their door.
“What if,” he asked casually as Lance swiped the keycard, “I wanted to fuck your ass?”
Lance hesitated, some of his ardor cooling, tha
nks to a jolt of panic. He pushed into the suite in an attempt to hide the reaction, but Gordon saw it.
He grabbed Lance’s arm to turn him. “Hey.” Arms slid around Lance’s waist to hold him close. “No worries. We don’t have to.” Smiling, he brushed lips with Lance. “I was just curious.”
“I’ve never…”
“I know.”
“I don’t think I…”
“It’s okay.” A kiss stopped his words. “Forget I said it. I’ve got no problem getting fucked by that horse cock of yours.” Another kiss kept Lance from commenting. Gordon’s hands slid around so his hands could get busy with Lance’s fly. “We need to get that beauty out and fucking. Now.”
Lance stumbled backward toward the door to the bedroom they were sharing. In the darkness, he ended up trusting Gordon’s direction to get him to the bed. They only had one mishap, when Lance slammed into the doorjamb, but it was a momentary pain on the way to extreme pleasure. By the time his back hit the mattress, he’d forgotten the moments of awkwardness, and he certainly wasn’t thinking about them when Gordon freed his cock and swallowed him down.
But when Gordon pulled Lance’s pants off and crawled back onto the bed with a condom packet held between his teeth, Lance remembered Gordon’s earlier request. He’d wondered if he could do it. Seemed real unfair that he always did the fucking. He’d never before slept with a guy more than twice, so it had never been much of an issue. But since he kept having sex with Gordon—and certainly didn’t plan to stop anytime soon—it seemed only right that he give it a try.
He sat up to stop Gordon from straddling higher than his thighs. “Did you…want to fuck me?”
Gordon hesitated. The only lamp they’d managed to turn on in their haste was behind Gordon, so his face was mostly in shadow, but even then Lance saw the spark of hope before Gordon masked it. “I already told you I’m okay if we don’t.”
“Yeah, but, do you want to?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
Lance chewed his lip, aware that his erection was flagging. But there was a certain amount of excitement in trying something new. Even if he was pretty damn sure that new thing would hurt. He glanced down at Gordon’s cock, naked and proud. Could he get that inside him? Would he feel the pleasure that he’d seen on lovers’ faces when it was jammed tight in his ass? Only one way to find out. “We could. That is, if you go easy on me. ’Cause I never—”
Gordon cut him off with a dark, positively feline chuckle. Crawling close, he found Lance’s lips with his. “You are too cute.” Before Lance could protest the cute, Gordon wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled. Lips on his kept Lance from verbalizing. “Are you sure?” Gordon murmured once he had Lance melting.
“Yeah.” Lance put on a silly grin. “As a birthday present.”
Tension broken, Gordon laughed. “Which means I have to make it good. Okay. Lie back.”
Lance didn’t so much lie down as ooze onto his back, with Gordon hovering over him. Soft, gentle lips caressed his jaw, his neck, his chest. Gordon abandoned the condom somewhere on the mattress in order to use both hands to caress Lance’s sides and hips as his mouth made its leisurely way down to Lance’s cock. At a gentle nudge, Lance bent one knee and let Gordon ease his leg aside, opening him up.
Was he really going to do this? He’d never had to really prep a lover before. All of the guys he’d fucked had already been around the block. It felt too odd to be the timid virgin. But Gordon did all he could to make it easy. After some mind-numbing suction, he urged Lance to palm his own cock while Gordon fished the bottle of lube out of the sheets. Kneeling between Lance’s legs, he watched Lance work himself as he got his fingers good and wet. As he reached under Lance’s balls, he looked up and caught Lance’s gaze. Smiling, he held eye contact while wet fingers rubbed and probed, finding Lance’s anus. Lance couldn’t help but tense up a little, which made Gordon’s smile widen. He’d better not be thinking I’m cute again, Lance groused inside his head, but no words made it to his lips. Not when the tip of Gordon’s finger slowly pushed inside.
Lance closed his eyes. His hand stilled on his cock. He lay there, feeling it, wondering if he was okay. The answer was yes, he was. This wasn’t so bad. A little weird to feel something coming in that particular hole, but it didn’t hurt. He was, of course, quite aware that the width of one finger didn’t begin to match up to the width of Gordon’s cock. When Gordon slid a second finger in, Lance winced at the stretch.
“You okay?”
Lance opened his eyes to realize that Gordon was back to hovering over him, his lips not far from Lance’s. “Yeah.”
Gordon kissed him. Soft and warm and clearly distracted. His attention was on the fingers he was pushing in and pulling out of Lance’s body. The fingers he started to twist and probe with and… Lance jumped at the heated jolt that coursed through his body. Gordon grunted, deepened the kiss, and pressed that spot again. Lance groaned, squeezing his cock with one hand and reaching up to spear his fingers in Gordon’s hair with the other. The probing still felt strange, but he could definitely go for the G-spot thing. They readjusted when Gordon wedged a third finger inside. That kind of hurt, but it in a way Lance had expected. The stretch was weird, but he thought he was still good to go. “Fuck me,” he demanded, tugging Gordon’s hair. He wanted to get the anticipation over with already. If it didn’t get better than this, he wanted to know now.
“We can just do this for a while.”
“No. Now.”
Needing no further prompting, Gordon eased his fingers from Lance’s body, wiped excess lube on his cock, then searched for and found the condom he’d earlier abandoned. “Get on your knees,” he advised as he was busy. “It’s easier the first time.”
All for easy, Lance twisted over onto his belly and rose up on his knees. By that time, Gordon had more lube ready to slather between Lance’s cheeks and over his hole. Clearly Gordon believed in making things as wet as possible, and Lance appreciated the thought.
Then it was the moment of truth. Gordon kneeled behind him, and the tip of his cock was rubbing Lance’s anus. He didn’t ask again, and Lance bit his lip against a last-minute bailout. He could do this.
It hurt. Damn it. He hissed as Gordon pushed in, and gripped the pillows beneath his head as he tried to convince himself that his asshole wasn’t ripping. Gordon’s hands brushed soothing circles over Lance’s back. Lance wiggled his hips a little, then hissed again. Fuck, Gordon did this every time?
“Need me to pull out?” Gordon murmured.
“No. Just…gimme a sec.”
“All the time you need.” Lips pressed his shoulder, and the heat of Gordon’s chest warmed Lance’s back.
He could do this. He took a slow breath in, then pushed back toward Gordon. More of Gordon’s cock slid in, and it stopped feeling like his anus was going to rip. He kept pushing, slowly, until Gordon’s thighs met the backs of his. There wasn’t any more.
“Fuck,” Gordon murmured, breath wafting over the back of Lance’s shoulder. “You feel so fucking good.”
Encouraged, Lance rocked his hips. Still hurt, but less. Now he could relax into it. Now he could probably… He groaned when that spot made itself known. Because that felt a helluva lot better than before. He began to rock a little more, starting to appreciate the thrust as Gordon kept muttering encouragement into his back. Then Gordon reached around to stroke his cock. The pain had made him go soft, but Gordon’s hand helped with that situation.
Soon enough, Lance was ready for more. “Move,” he demanded, cheek pressed to the arm he’d bent under his head.
“You sure?”
He reached back with his free hand to grip Gordon’s thigh. “Yeah.”
Gordon took him at his word. He abandoned Lance’s cock in order to grip his hips with both hands, bracing for better thrusting. Lance let out a groan as tingling warmth filled his veins. Eyes closed, he took up where Gordon had left off with his cock and concentrated on the novel concept of
being fucked. He squeezed his ass just to make Gordon wild and smiled at the ragged groan that filled the room. He knew that feeling.
“Lance, I…”
“Go ahead and come in me.” He grunted, shoving back.
Gordon was trying to make it last, but he lost the game. With a helpless curse, the rhythm of his thrusts faltered, and he came on a few short jerks. “Shit.” He kind of rolled off Lance’s back to rest on his side.
Watching Gordon with a grin, Lance kept stroking his cock as he nudged Gordon onto his back and straddled his thigh. Pressing as close as he could while still jerking his cock, he opened his lips on Gordon’s. Lazily, Gordon wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck and shoulders. He bent his knee to give added pressure underneath Lance’s balls. He sucked in Lance’s tongue as Lance got close, closer, then came in heated spurts all over Gordon’s belly.
It was Lance’s turn to crumple on his side, freeing Gordon to roll out of bed and head for the bathroom to clean himself up. While Gordon was gone, Lance took stock. The well-lubed and stretched ass was new, but otherwise he felt well and truly fucked. Sated. Good. That had been an entirely new sexual experience, and a sentimental part of him was very glad he’d shared it with Gordon.
Smelling of the hotel’s sandalwood soap, Gordon slid back into bed and into Lance’s arms for more lazy kissing. “How do you feel?” he asked when they came up for air.
“Okay.” Lance bit Gordon’s bottom lip. “Not sure I want to do it every time, but I could do it again.”
Gordon chuckled, head back to bare his neck for Lance’s kisses. “That’s okay. I’m fine with the other way around.” He lowered his head and waited for Lance to look at him. “It’s your birthday, and you’ve given me a present.” He brushed his lips on Lance’s. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“’Sokay.” Lance couldn’t help the ridiculous grin that curled his lips. “Thought if we were gonna keep doing this, it was only fair.”