No Regrets

by Sean Michael

  "Does that mean you aren't coming back yet?"

  Scotty's fingers kept him loose, kept his shoulders from tensing up again. "I need to finish that album first. I've got half a dozen solid tracks. You tell the label that I'm busy working on it and that I'll show when it's ready."

  "You promise you'll call in a few weeks even if it's not done yet."

  "I will. Oh, and Molly, give yourself a big bonus from me."

  She laughed. "I already have."

  "Bitch."

  "That's what you pay me for."

  He laughed. "Molly? Thanks."

  "You're welcome. Have a good Christmas."

  "Yeah, I am. A great one. Bye."

  He hung up the phone and dropped his head forward, groaning at the way Scotty's fingers were working his neck.

  "Better?" Scotty was right there, touching away.

  "You've got magic hands, Scotty." He looked back over his shoulder, smiling at his old friend, feeling himself settle back into the relaxation and good feelings he'd built over the last weeks.

  "They know what they're doing." Scott looked a little sad for a second, then the look passed, a smile beaming out. "You hungry?"

  His stomach managed to pick just then to growl, surprising him, and he chuckled. "I guess I am at that. Now that that's over with." He raised his hand, pressing it to Scotty's cheek, thumb sliding along those smiling lips.

  Scott kissed his thumb, nodded. "It's hell when the real world comes knocking."

  Yeah. Yeah, he guessed. Of course, he never saw Scott's phone ring, never saw the man actually work, even though most nights he'd wake up alone in the bed, the lights on in the studio.

  "Tabloids are saying I'm dead. Or in rehab." He shook his head. He supposed the second one was kind of accurate, even if it wasn't for drugs or alcohol.

  "Well, you're not. You're here. Living."

  Grinning, he leaned into Scotty. "I'm here. Loving."

  "Yeah. Yeah, loving." Scott's arms wrapped around him, holding on tight.

  "Yeah." He pressed their lips together, tongue slipping into Scotty's mouth. Fuck, he didn't think he'd ever get used to how good this felt.

  Scotty moaned, kissing him hard enough that his toes curled and he sort of forgot about everything else. Forgot about everything but sliding his hands down and grabbing Scotty's ass, rubbing up against all those muscles.

  "Mmm... You hungry?" There was a tiny hickey on Scott's jaw. Sexy as fuck.

  "Uh-huh." He licked his way over to the hickey, nibbling at it.

  "The. Uh. The food is..." Scotty moaned, throat working.

  "It'll wait, right?" He wrapped his lips around the marked skin, began to suck.

  "Uh. Uh-huh."

  He scraped at the mark with his teeth, wanting more of those less than coherent sounds from Scotty, wanting to be the one to make them happen. He got them, too, one after another, Scotty shivering and shaking in his arms. He finally pulled away and checked out the mark. It was bigger, darker, unmistakable. Groaning, he pushed their mouths back together again, losing himself in Scotty's taste.

  "Need you, yeah? I do." Scott pushed against him, that heavy cock ready for him, throbbing against his hip. "Did you put Viagra in my coffee?"

  "Yeah, in mine, too." He grinned, hips rubbing against Scotty's, wanting badly. "We gonna do it right here? Up against your kitchen counter?" It wouldn't be the first time.

  "You want me here? Spread out for you?" Fuck, the things Scotty said.

  "You know it. Hell, Scotty, I want you however I can get you."

  He pushed his fingers into Scotty's waistband, groaning as he felt the heat of skin against them.

  "Good." Scotty started wiggling out of his sweats, the smell of skin and musk heady.

  Drake licked his lips. Damn, that was sexy, the way that Scotty wanted him, stripped down for him in the middle of the kitchen just like that. He stared a moment as that beautiful ass came into view, and then caught a glimpse of Scotty prick, shiny on the tip, and he moaned, rubbing himself through his sweats.

  Then that pretty ass hopped up on the counter, and Scotty's thighs spread wide. "Come and get me."

  He didn't need a second invitation. Tugging off his shirt and pushing down his sweats, he was soon as naked as Scotty. He moved to stand between Scotty's legs, arms sliding around the man's waist, pushing up good and close. "Gonna eat you all up, Scotty."

  "Promises, promises." Scott's hands framed his face, those eyes taking him in.

  He turned his face, just enough to lick at Scotty's skin, the flavor tempered by sugar and flour, spices. He turned back to meet those hungry eyes. "Yeah. Promises."

  "It's going to hurt like hell when you go."

  "I'm not going anywhere, Scotty." He wasn't finished with his album. He wasn't ready to let go.

  "Good." Scott pushed into his kiss, tongue fucking his lips.

  His fingers moved over Scotty, pressing hard, deep, touching as much of the warm, smooth skin as he could. Scott's legs wrapped around him, holding him close, drawing him right in against that fine body. He rubbed hard, their pricks rubbing, leaving wet kisses on their bellies. It felt so good. So fucking good.

  "Love how you smell, honey." Scotty reached down, fingers pushing down between them, brushing over the tips of their cocks.

  He jerked, lightning going through him at the simple touch. "I smell like turkey," he teased before growing serious. "I love you how taste."

  "Oh. Taste me." Scotty spread wider, hips sliding on the counter.

  "My pleasure," he murmured. He started at the top, taking a quick kiss before licking Scotty's lips, and then sucking on his chin, nibbling at the underside.

  "Hungry..." He loved that desperate, moaning sound.

  "Starving for you." Like he'd been hungry all his life until he finally got his first taste of Scotty.

  He wrapped his lips around Scott's Adam's apple, licking and sucking.

  "Dee. Dee, give me more." Demanding man.

  "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to eat too fast?" He nipped at the hollow at the base of Scott's throat and then licked his way down Scott's breastbone.

  "I... Huh?" Scotty's nipples were hard as little rocks.

  "Gotta savor my meal, man." He licked his way over to one, deliberately missing it as he swiped his tongue nearby.

  "Tease." Scott shifted, body wanting his mouth.

  He chuckled, loving the need that threaded through that word. Loving it enough that he closed his lips over Scott's nipple and flicked his tongue across it.

  "Yes..." Scott's head hit the cabinet door with a thud.

  Humming the tune that he'd named Scotty's Song in his head, he worked his way over to the other nipple, using his teeth on this one. He loved how Scotty went wild, cussing and shifting, fingers tangled in his hair. Yeah, just like that. Scotty's cock bumped against him, impatient and needy and he ignored it in favor of continuing to move between Scotty's nipples. Scotty started humping, prick rubbing against him, pushing harder and faster. Christ, he felt like a god, with Scotty wild and desperate from these touches.

  He worked his way slowly down, wanting to feast on every bit of Scotty he could get. He laughed as he hit that sweet navel, tongue dipping in and playing, Scotty's cock impatiently bumping his chin.

  "I want. Dee. Honey. Please." Oh, yeah. He could so get off on the begging.

  Drake looked up at Scotty's face, seeing the need there as clear as day. "Trust me, Scotty. I won't leave you wanting." He nipped once at Scotty's belly, and then bent to lick at the wet tipped cock.

  "I... Oh, sweet fuck, Dee. You're so good..."

  Drake snorted. He was just doing what felt good when Scotty did it to him. He nibbled his way down the shaft, the silky skin so hot, the flavor all salt and musk and Scott. His hands slid along Scotty's inner thighs, spreading him wider apart. There wasn't anything finer on earth than that man, spread for him and begging for it.

  He explored Scotty's balls, licking them, taking each one into his mouth and
sucking until Scotty's cries grew louder. Then he nudged them out of the way to lick at the soft, smooth patch of skin beyond them, the scent here all fucking Scott and so damn good. Scott whimpered, one heel catching on the edge of the counter.

  Fuck. So sexy.

  Groaning, he licked at Scott's hole, tongue sliding on the wrinkled skin, feeling it as it clenched and relaxed. His own prick throbbed, his ass clenching and it was like he could still feel Scotty there, inside him. He whimpered, pushing his tongue in where his cock wanted to be. The sounds that drew from Scott had his hand around his prick, jacking fast and hard, making sure he was hard, ready to push in deep.

  He held off as long as he could, fucking Scott with his tongue until he couldn't stand it for another second. A cry tore from his throat as he rose up, pushing in just like that, his cock going deep into Scotty's body.

  "Yes. Fuck. Dee. Harder." Scott slid off the counter, holding his weight on those lean arms. Fuck.

  He grabbed hold of Scott's thighs, pulling him close with every thrust. Oh, fuck. So deep. So hot and tight. He moved hard, faster, watching his cock going into Scotty's body, watching the lean muscles work. Those filthy words drove him faster, pushed him harder and harder, their skin slapping together.

  "Scotty. Fuck. Good." He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say, but he couldn't find the words anyway, and he met Scott's eyes, held them as his hips snapped and jerked, driving him into Scotty's body.

  "Uh-huh." Scott nodded, flushed, and shot, seed spraying between them.

  Scott's ass tightened around him and he cried out, shuddering as he filled Scott with his spunk. He brought their foreheads together, panting, trying to catch his breath.

  "Good." Scotty looked like he'd been beaned over the head with a baseball bat.

  Humming, he took Scotty's mouth, the kiss long and lazy, his hand spreading Scotty's come into the skin of man's belly, that scent stronger than any of the others in the kitchen now. "Good? Best fucking Christmas ever."

  "Uh-huh. Best." Ah. Scotty was all melted.

  He slowly let Scotty's thighs go, fingers sliding on skin. He took another kiss, tongue sliding in Scotty's mouth. "Love," he whispered.

  "I do. Have." Those eyes were dead serious.

  He swallowed. "Me, too, Scotty. Really. I know I have a lousy track record, but I never..." He shook his head. "This is different."

  "Good. I can stand being different for you." Scott's grin was quick and bright. "After you get my ass off the edge of this counter, anyway."

  Drake laughed, his cock slipping out of Scotty's body as he did. "Got a cranberry digging in?"

  "Just the edge." Scotty winked, leaned in. "Merry Christmas, honey."

  Nodding, he grabbed Scotty's ass and tugged him right off the counter, squeezing and massaging the cool flesh. "Yeah. Merry Christmas."

  "Come on. Quick shower and we'll feast. Then presents!"

  He let his face drop. "We were supposed to get each other presents?" The corner of his mouth twitched. He'd written a song just for Scott, had handwritten the lyrics and music out for him--Scotty owned it lock stock and royalties.

  "Dork." Scott grinned. "Yours is in the studio, still."

  He chuckled, grinning back at Scotty. "I've got yours in the guest room." The room he'd started off in.

  "Yeah? What is it?" Scott started moving him toward the stairs.

  "Don't you want to wait until it's under the tree?" He stayed close, touching Scotty as they moved, that warm skin calling to his fingers.

  "Sure. But I need to shower. You need to shower." Scotty was laughing and happy.

  He goosed that happy ass. "You saying I stink?"

  "Yep."

  Oh, asshole.

  He pinched Scotty's ass again, fingers of his other hand digging into ribs.

  Scotty's laugh echoed, making the whole house sound like Christmas.

  He could live his whole life on that sound.

  He thought he'd like to give that a try.

  * * * *

  The shower relaxed them, the supper made them both moan and eat until they collapsed onto the sofa together, napping hard, Dee wrapped up in his arms.

  When he woke up, the sun had gone down and the clouds that had been heavy all morning were finally paying off with flurries.

  Snow.

  On Christmas.

  "Dee. Dee, honey. Look, before it goes away!"

  "Hmm? Look at what?"

  Dee blinked up at him, looking adorable and all mussed up.

  "Snow. Christmas snow, no shit."

  "Cool." Dee grinned and grabbed his hand, heading for the window.

  It was just falling down, catching the wind and swirling.

  "Look at that."

  Dee's arms came around him, that body snuggled up along his back as Dee's chin landed on his shoulder. "Wild. Pretty, too."

  "It is. I haven't seen snow on Christmas in years."

  "No? I think I saw some a couple years ago. I was in a hotel room in...New York?" He felt Dee shrug against him. "Doesn't matter. I wound up getting wasted and missing it. This is better." A soft kiss pressed against the side of his neck.

  "This is perfect." He smiled, squeezed Dee's hand. "Come to the studio. I have something to show you." Something he'd never shown anyone.

  "Are you gonna show me your etchings?" Dee asked, moving to walk with him.

  "Something like that, yes."

  Oh, cold. It was so cold, but beautiful.

  Dee laughed, face turning up to the snow. Tongue sticking out, Dee tried to catch the falling flakes. His fingers itched to capture that look, that smile, but he let the urge pass and just watched. Licking his lips and sticking his tongue out for more, Dee kept it up right until they got to the barn, dodging here and here to catch the falling flakes.

  Finally he stopped, eyes twinkling. "They taste good, Scotty."

  "They taste like Christmas." He kissed the tip of Dee's nose, then the soft, swollen lips.

  Dee opened to him, letting him in. They kissed there in the snow for a long time, bodies pressing together against the cold.

  They broke apart, Dee chuckling, snowflakes caught on his lashes.

  "Come see your gift." He unlocked the studio, drew Dee into the huge space. He'd spent the last three years, working off and on with these paintings. There were twenty, now. Drake as a boy, as a young man. As a famous singer. As a tired man. As his lover.

  He turned the overhead lights on, the pictures out, spread around the room, some against the wall, others on easels.

  Dee gasped, standing there and looking, eyes moving from one to the next and then the next.

  Scott leaned against the doorframe, watching. He didn't have to ask if they were good. He knew better.

  Dee eventually started moving, going from one painting to the next much as he had the first day he'd seen Scott's other work. Finally he stopped in the middle of the room and turned, eyes glistening. "I don't...I don't know what to say."

  "Say you'll take good care of them."

  "Are you sure you want to just give them to me, Scott? This must have taken you...a long time." Dee came to him, stood in front of him, understanding in his eyes. "You didn't just start these when I came to visit."

  "No. No, some of them are older than others." I've loved you for a long time.

  "I'll take good care of them." Dee's voice was husky, and Dee reached out, fingers sliding around his arm and holding on, the blue eyes holding his.

  "Good." They were the best things he'd ever done, hands-down.

  "We have to go back to the house for my gift," Dee murmured, hand sliding down his arm to wrap their fingers together. "Wait!" Dee said suddenly, going back and grabbing the last picture, the one that was "Dee My Lover." "I want to hang this one in our bedroom."

  Their bedroom.

  He tilted his head, nodded. "You know it."

  "Cool. Come on, I want to give you my gift now." Dee bounced, and dragged him out of the studio and back toward the house.
r />   They hurried, keeping the canvas out of the weather. Drake set it on the kitchen counter, out of the dogs' reach, then drew him into the main room.

  He'd noticed Dee had brought down a firecracker shaped present after their shower, and set it under the tree. That was fetched now, handed over. Before he could open it though, Dee went over to the piano. "Go on," Dee told him with a grin. "Open it and it'll all make sense."

  He opened the present, heading toward the piano as he did.

  It was a song, "I Don't Regret This A Bit" by Drake Rawlings, the music drawn in carefully by hand, lyrics at the end.

  Dee started to play, the tune one he'd heard now and then over the last few weeks. Then that clear, strong voice began to sing, Dee's eyes on him.

  "Oh..." He sat, stunned, listening to hear every word. His song. Oh.

  The last note faded, Dee's fingers resting lightly on the piano keys. "It's going to be the first single on my next album. All the royalties, everything, are going to be yours." Dee smiled. "And there'll be a dedication."

  Dee pointed to the print he'd missed underneath the title. "For Scotty, who I'll never regret."

  "I..." He didn't have any words. He just looked at Dee, staring, so in love it hurt. "Play it again?"

  Dee reached out and touched his cheek, and then nodded, playing the song again, eyes closing this time, the words ringing out with truth, with emotion.

  As the music faded, Scott rested against Dee, breathing in deep.

  It was the best present he'd ever gotten.

  Ever.

  Chapter 4

  At the end of January, Drake had his album and he was itching to get into the studio and record it.

  At the same time, he didn't want to go. Oh, the recording itself would be great--it always was, and he was really excited about this album. It was the best work he'd done in years. But recording meant leaving and an album in the can meant touring. Which meant leaving Scotty and this place where he'd found love, and peace, and happiness deep inside.

  So he ignored the finished songs and the end of January slipped into February.

  He took rides with Scotty, and played the piano, and sang. He dozed while Scotty painted, and learned how to make cornbread and apple pie.