Rocking Hard: Volume 1

by Sol Crafter, Diana Sheridan, Talya Andor, Lacie J. Archer, Angel Propps

  "Have you ever had sex in a tent before?" Jim asked, folding his discarded shirt.

  "Are you asking me if I'm a tent virgin?" Marty asked. He folded back the sleeping bag before lying down.

  "Yeah, maybe." Jim kicked off his shoes and took off his pants. "So are you? Can I take your tent virginity?"

  Marty laughed and splayed his arms and legs out invitingly. His erection was pressing against the front of his boxers. He watched Jim through heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the way his skin flushed and his blue eyes gleamed brightly. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

  "Okay."

  *~*~*

  Lying next to Marty on the air mattress, he felt almost too hot and couldn't help pushing the sleeping bag off him. The air quickly cooled his skin and he shivered, his skin prickling with gooseflesh, but he didn't move to cover back up. Not yet.

  "You're still awake?" Marty's voice was sleep-rough. "Why don't you go to sleep?"

  "I'm good." Jim turned his head enough to press a kiss against Marty's forehead. He liked the sleepy-humming sound Marty made before going back to his gentle snoring. It was nice to just lie there with Marty warm against his side while the rest of his naked body tasted the cool night air.

  They'd turned the lantern down low, so it was just an ember of light next to the mattress. Everything around him was cast in shadows, but it was nice to be able to look up at the smooth nylon ceiling of the tent and know that it was only a thin barrier between him and the rest of the universe.

  There was something about the dimness that didn't make it so hard for him to think about and realize that he'd fallen in love with Marty, not recently like he'd assumed, but probably years ago. There was a good chance that he'd been in love with him from the moment they'd met, which explained why he'd been so open to doing all of the weird and stupidly fun things Marty suggested. Because when he considered it, there was no one else in the world that he'd be willing to don cosplay for or go to conventions with. There was only Marty. No one else had ever had as much of a hold on him.

  Part of him wished that he had realized his feelings years ago, because they had missed out on so much. But he was smart enough to realize that it probably wouldn't have worked out.

  When he was in his twenties, he had been a seriously fucked up asshole. He had been so wrapped up in thoughts of himself that there would have been no way for him to maintain any kind of relationship, not even one as important as friendship with Marty. He had needed to get out and see the world and experience mindless lusts, because if he hadn't done all of those things he now regretted, he never would have known just how important Marty was to him. And the thought that in some other life he might have been a dumbass and squandered Marty's love just to satiate his libido made him glad that they'd found each other now and not then when he'd been careless and stupid.

  And if they'd gotten together in high school, it never would have lasted. They were both too young then, too immature. Someone would have ended up hurt and it probably would have been his fault.

  He liked to fantasize about Marty being every one of his first times, but in the end he was happy enough to just know that Marty was his first time being in love.

  "You're thinking too hard." Marty slung his arm across Jim's chest and hugged him close. "I can't sleep when you're thinking too hard."

  "Sorry," Jim whispered. "Good night."

  "Mm."

  Jim smiled and closed his eyes. Then he followed Marty's lead as he always did.

  *~*~*

  Camping had been more fun than Marty had thought it was going to be, and that was mostly due to Jim handling all the arrangements. There were some things that Marty wasn't good at and roughing it was one of them, which meant Jim had put some real work into making it the most enjoyable experience possible. Which was effort Marty honestly appreciated.

  Monday morning, they packed up all their gear and were home by mid-afternoon, giving them plenty of time to shower and eat dinner and catch the Eastern Standard Time showing of Centrifical.

  They sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watched the episode together. A still-slightly-miffed Mr. Vincenzo Emilio Estevez deigned to spread her bulk across Marty's lap and bristled every time Jim got too close to touching her person. It was actually pretty funny, though Marty finally had enough and pushed her down on the floor for being too aggressive. She slunk off toward the kitchen with a few last baleful looks.

  "I guess I'm not her favorite person," Jim said awkwardly.

  Marty laughed. "You're still mine. She'll get over it and be back to begging table scraps in a few days. She just likes to show the world when she's mad, that's all." He grabbed a handful of popcorn out of the large red plastic bowl.

  They stared at the TV as the commercials ended and the opening scene of the show started. They instinctively went quiet as they watched; the only sound from either of them the crunching of popcorn.

  Even though they'd seen the rough cut of "Korlaax's Folly," it was very different to see the episode with the music and all the finishing touches. The special effects had all been added and everything looked a bit larger than life. Marty was surprised by how good the episode had come out.

  When the next commercial started, Jim turned to Marty with a grin. "I think we're really going to win some awards. They added some great music to the soundtrack. That's definitely not the same music we heard before."

  "Jason talked to his brother, who's a composer, and had him do all the scoring." Marty leaned against Jim's side. "He did a really great job. I hope he uses him again."

  "It's kind of cool seeing us on TV together," Jim said. His smile was lopsided and his eyes were bright.

  "You do look good on television," Marty admitted.

  Jim shoved him gently. "We look good on television," he corrected. He turned back when the commercial ended. "We look really good together all the time."

  Marty looked at the side of Jim's face and couldn't help a laughing grin he covered with his hand. He lowered his head and rested it against Jim's chest as he went back to watching the show.

  Everything had kind of fallen into place for the two of them. It was meant to be.

  Being gay had never seemed like a big deal to him. Marty had known what he was, his lovers had known, and that was good enough. He wasn't hiding anything; he just didn't go shouting it from the mountain tops.

  Except that while he had never hid his homosexuality, he'd never had to before either. He'd just lived his life the way he wanted and not worried that it would mean anything to anyone else.

  Jim was not out though. There was no possible way that Jim would want to be outed because it might wreck his career. He hadn't said anything, but that was the kind of guy Jim was. So Marty would have to be the one to make the sacrifice. Marty had to go back into a closet he'd never been in to begin with.

  He'd never had to hide before, so he'd never realized just how exhausting it was.

  Neither he nor Jim was very touchy-feely romance people. It wasn't like they wanted to skip down the road holding hands or kissing while posing on a bridge or something. It was just that suddenly even their most casual of touches had taken on a new meaning to Marty and he had to stop himself from doing the things he'd always done. It made it impossible for him to relax.

  "Why are you driving yourself so crazy now?"

  Jim was hanging on the edge of the pool looking at Marty out of clear blue eyes. His hair was slicked to his skull and his head and shoulders bobbed up and down in Marty's view as he gently kicked his feet. There was a faint hint of freckles on the tops of his shoulders and he looked incredibly good, muscly and wet.

  "What?" Marty asked. He was propped up on one of the lounge chairs trying to read a book that refused to hold his attention. His brain was working much too fast for him to be able to focus on wizards and dragons.

  "I said, why are you driving yourself crazy?" Jim asked. "You look like you're really grinding away at something. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing,"
Marty said hastily.

  Jim gave him a disbelieving look. "Has that ever worked on anyone in your entire life? Seriously, what's got you so troubled?" He pulled himself out of the pool, water streaming from his bright red trunks. He padded over to his own lounger and grabbed up his towel, wrapping it around himself before sitting down, droplets still clinging to his chest and shoulders.

  Marty dragged his eyes away and closed the book, setting it on the small round table next to him. "I guess I'm just worried that I'm going to be the one to screw things up."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm not very good at pretending in real life," Marty said. "I don't think I'll be able to hide what I feel and I don't want to be the one to ruin everything."

  Jim held his towel at his waist and walked over to Marty's lounger, kneeling down next to it. "You're going to have to explain. What are you so worried about?"

  Marty closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I've never really been 'out' with my sexuality, but I've never hidden it either. You, though, you …" He forced his eyes open and looked at Jim. "I can go in the closet for you. I just worry that I'm going to screw everything up."

  The corners of Jim's mouth turned down and he reached out his arm to lay his hand against Marty's bare knee. "You don't have to do that," he said. "I love you and I don't care if the whole world knows."

  "It'll fuck up your life," Marty protested.

  Jim shrugged. "I'm already rich. I promise you, I'm not too worried."

  "God, how did you get to be so … so you?"

  "Just lucky, I guess." Jim leaned forward to press his lips against Marty's. "Come swimming with me."

  "Okay."

  Everything was good for a while. No big announcements, no big trouble, just the two of them living their lives every day. It surprised Marty to find out how happy he could be.

  The "Korlaax' Folly" episode was a hit and Centrifical gained a lot of new fans thanks to Jim. The show was suddenly one of the top viewed on all the digital media sites and Marty was getting calls from his agent about offers coming in.

  So it wasn't that surprising when Marty got the call saying Centrifical was in the running for a People's Choice Award.

  It wasn't surprising, but he still completely freaked out.

  "Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow," he said over and over again, earning himself an amused look from Jim.

  "You okay there?"

  Marty grinned helplessly. "I am so fucking great that you don't even know."

  "I'm pretty sure that I've got some idea," Jim said. He was committing vegetable homicide on the salad he was preparing, spinach leaves and errant tomato chunks were everywhere on the counter around his cutting board. He was trying some of his newest knife tricks and the result was some cool blade work and mess.

  Marty watched him for a minute and then shook his head. "Can you please be careful? I don't want to have to take you and your hacked-off fingers to the hospital today."

  Jim stuck his tongue out, but slowed down his reckless chopping. "Baby."

  They were having a "kick ass big salad," as Jim had phrased it and he was putting everything together himself. Marty had promised to be suitably wowed and to stay out of the way while Jim did all the work. His hands itched to help, but he'd managed to control himself by setting the table and pouring them both glasses of red wine he'd dug out of a cupboard. He'd sniffed it to make sure they weren't about to drink a bottle of vinegar, but it had been good enough and he thought it would go good with the salad.

  He was leaning against the counter, trying to keep himself under control, but he couldn't help dancing around a little, his every nerve jangling. The idea of Centrifical winning a People's Choice Award was one that had been tossed around, but it hadn't seemed real. Until now.

  "So, hey, I talked with the band and told them we were together."

  It took a minute for those oh-so-casual words to sink into Marty's brain. "Wait—what?"

  Jim lifted his head, his lips curved up at the corners. "I talked to the band and told them that I love you and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you. You know, if you're cool with that."

  Marty was stunned. Sure, Jim had said the love-word numerous times, but they hadn't made any long term plans yet. It just seemed vaguely surreal that somewhere in the background Jim had been planning out the rest of their lives.

  Surreal and kind of touching.

  "Really? And they're all cool with it?" he asked.

  "Pretty much," Jim said. "Even if they weren't, it wouldn't change anything. You're more important than anything else."

  "Don't say it like that," Marty said. "Those guys are your friends, your family. They've been with you for years."

  "Yeah, but you're the guy I'm looking to grow old with."

  There was something about hearing a sugary-sweet sentiment like that coming out of Jim's mouth that had Marty walking out of the kitchen and going to sit down on the couch in the living room. His knees kind of folded out from under him and he flopped down with a thump.

  Mr. Vincenzo Emilio Estevez shot him a haughty look from where she was curled up on the funky red velvet recliner.

  He gave her a nasty look, and then leaned sideways against the couch arm, curling his legs up under himself. He closed his eyes and breathed, resting the side of his head against the scratchy upholstery.

  The cushion jounced next to him and he felt a warm hand against his hip. "Are you all right? Are you really that freaked out at the thought of being with me?"

  Marty opened his eyes and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I just needed a minute." He rolled over on his back, his legs still folded together. He looked at Jim's worried face and felt bad. "I don't want you to turn your back on your friends or ever think that you'd have to. I'm not that important and …"

  Jim's eyes were terribly understanding when he rose up on his knees and leaned over Marty to press a kiss against his lips. "Shut up."

  "Wha …"

  Jim covered Marty's mouth with his hand, silencing him.

  "You don't need to worry like this. I don't know why you feel like you have to drive yourself crazy all the time." He looked right into Marty's eyes and there was something so mesmerizing about the blue of his irises that Marty couldn't look away even though he really wanted to. "I don't know what you're so afraid of all the time. I love you."

  Marty chewed on his lips. "I don't deserve you," he mumbled.

  "What?" Jim furrowed his brow in concern. He was looming over Marty, his tee shirt lightly spattered with the juice of mutilated tomatoes. He smelled a little sweaty, but it wasn't unpleasant at all, just the healthy scent of his body, a masculine odor overlaid by the scent of his cologne.

  "I don't deserve you," Marty said, louder this time. "You're way too good for me and I don't know why you even want to be my friend, much less anything else."

  *~*~*

  Jim sighed and rested his hands on Marty's knees to hold himself up. He felt like he'd been sucker-punched in the sternum and part of him—a big part—wanted to howl.

  When they were in high school it had been obvious that Marty had confidence issues. There was this whole thing where Marty never wanted to invite anyone over to his house and he'd always been fastidious about his clothes and personal cleanliness. Jim hadn't had to be a genius to figure out that Marty was embarrassed about his living arrangements, and while he always played it like he was cool, there had been times when he acted like he didn't think he belonged.

  Jim had never asked and Marty had never said, but he had suspicions that there had been some kind of abuse. Something that had completely destroyed Marty's confidence to the point where he never wanted to believe that he was good enough.

  After all these years, Jim had thought that Marty was passed all that. So it wasn't a good feeling to realize that Marty really wasn't. He was still lost in a world where he thought he was worth less than the people around him.

  "I'm your friend because you're funny and smart and you make me want to
go out and do all kinds of crazy things," Jim said carefully. He grabbed Marty's ankles and unfolded his legs, laying them flat on the couch so he could kneel in the slight gap between Marty's knees. "I love you because of all those things, plus you're kind of sexy and you really get my motor running. You hit every one of my buttons and there's no one else in the world for me but you.

  "So even if I have to spend the rest of my life working on your self-worth issues, I'm going to get you to believe it when I tell you that you're the only one for me. You're perfect for me in every way and there's never been anyone else but you and never will be." He chuckled. "It's kind of shmoopy, but I promise it's the truth. And I don't care what the rest of the world has to say about it because I'm the one telling you that I love you." He gave Marty a stern look and tried to sound tough, "So suck it up and deal with it. You're stuck with me."

  Marty pressed his palms against Jim's stomach, doing that weird cat-like pawing thing he sometimes did when they were in bed. "I 'get your motor running?' Really?" He still seemed much more subdued than his normal self, but Jim felt like he'd won something just to see the way Marty's lips curved up a little.

  "Totally." Jim leaned forward to kiss him. "I just hear your name and it's like Insta-Hard-on. I'm thinking of selling the effects of your sexiness on late night TV. I'd make a fortune."

  Jim looked at Marty seriously. "It's really not that big of deal if I'm outed," he said. "Really, I know you think it's going to be some giant thing, but I honestly don't give a damn. I have plenty of money so it's not like I'm going to end up out on the streets."

  "What about the rest of the Blue-Eyed Suns? You don't think they'd be upset if their careers were wrecked?" Marty asked.

  "Sure, I might be a bit upset too," Jim said, "but I don't care. I talked to the guys and we all kind of agreed that it was cool. Even if we lose fans, it doesn't change anything. They said they would stick by me no matter what, and I'll never stop making music, so even if this ruins my career, I'll still sing. I've made enough money to last my life."