by Sol Crafter, Diana Sheridan, Talya Andor, Lacie J. Archer, Angel Propps
"Ready?" Tor asked him. He laid another kiss on him, tongue flicking over his parted lips.
"I'm yours," Bailey gave Tor's words back to him, and the suffusion of joy in his face brought a matching surge to Bailey's middle, too.
The tiniest flex of Tor's hips made Bailey lurch back and answer with a low moan. Tor's hand slid down to his leg, holding him in place as he withdrew and pressed back in.
Bailey thrust back as Tor slid his cock into him again in one smooth movement. They moved in short, awkward pulses for a bit, until they settled together and Tor kissed him again. Bailey tilted his hips, thrust himself back, and they found the same pace at last.
They jolted together, seeking and finding that vital rhythm, and when they fell into it together, their parts together were greater as a whole.
Tor bent over him to kiss him as he drove into him in regular pulses. Bailey let his voice out, moans tumbling free with each deep press of Tor's cock inside of him. They moved and kissed and Tor was inside him, giving him the kind of pleasure he'd so rarely experienced. His cock was driving Bailey to the verge of orgasm as surely as the hand that moved from his leg to grip Bailey and draw him along to the same beat.
He was going to come, he was almost there, he wanted … "Tor," Bailey moaned. He pushed back, desperate and seeking.
"Come for me," Tor said, releasing Bailey's cock to draw an ardent hand along his side.
"Make me," Bailey breathed. He arched his back and tensed down on Tor's cock.
Tor groaned and grabbed his cock again, thrusting into him and working his hand over Bailey's length.
There was only so long he could hold out against such a loving assault to his senses. Bailey stretched up, lips pursing. He managed to get another kiss before he reached his climax.
Tor remained inside him for a moment longer, thrusting, kissing him, before pulling out and taking the condom off. They shifted again, Bailey lying on his back while Tor hovered over him, and Bailey stroked him until he came all over his belly and thighs, pulsing his warm release over Bailey.
They basked together in the afterglow, and Tor got an arm around him. Bailey wiped come off his belly with the Kleenex that had landed near the headboard and the edge of the bed, and settled down with his cheek pillowed against Tor's pectoral.
When their breathing slowed at last, Tor made an inquisitive noise. Bailey, so used to communicating with him verbally or otherwise, laughed.
"I'm not going to hand out a scorecard," he informed Tor.
"Yeah, but on a scale of one to—"
"Amazing," Bailey interrupted. "On a scale of one to great, you were amazing, and you ought to know I haven't had that many more lovers than you."
This time, the noise Tor made was disgruntled. "You've been in higher demand, though."
"That's a matter of debate," Bailey said. "Mostly amongst the fans."
Tor snickered and left that subject alone.
"You know, normally I don't like cuddling, post-coital or otherwise," Bailey observed, slinging an arm over Tor's waist. He was reliving the moment their respective rhythms had shifted from awkward, off-sync, to incredible. They were good together in bed as well as out of it, and it was relief of another kind.
"You think I'm letting you go now?" Tor questioned, arm tightening around him.
"I said normally," Bailey reminded him, pinching Tor's waist. "This feels different. I want to lay here like this with you. And I think that means this—what I have with you—is what I've been looking for all along."
"Better be," Tor said, twisting with a little grunt and kissing the top of Bailey's head. "You realize you've defined the new love song for a generation, right? We've got to live up to that, now."
"I thought you'd want to kill that single," Bailey said, tracing a circle over Tor's hip. "You thought I was making fun of your feelings."
"It's grown on me," Tor admitted. "May have something to do with getting the more personal confession from you. Besides, the fans at that concert have heard it. By now, it's all over the Internet. May as well be proud of what we've made and share it, yeah?"
"That's the beauty of being rock stars," Bailey said. He patted Tor's hip, pleased that he'd come around. "Everything we've created—our love, our dreams—will outlast us and endure."
"Do what you love—" Tor began the tagline for one of their albums.
"I am," Bailey said triumphantly, shifting up to plant a proprietary kiss on Tor's lips.
"—follow your dreams," Tor concluded.
Bailey settled himself atop Tor, lying on him full length from chest to where their legs tangled. "My dreams have led me to you."
Like Tor, now that he had him, Bailey was never letting go.
Sweat from our rehearsal cooling on my back, I tapped my drumsticks against a thigh. Lips curling up in a smile, I gazed around the empty arena, boggled by the fact that we'd sold out all 20,000 seats in under ten minutes. Half the time, I still thought of us as a small club band, when in reality, we had reached the point where walking down the street tended to end with a mob of screaming fans chasing us.
And even with that, I didn't regret my decision to join up with Tobin all those years ago when he went off on his quest to find the perfect voice to give Darkest Mercy life; not at all. I loved my life behind the drums and in front of the lights, though I did miss my privacy at times. It was difficult to find someone willing to put up with the constant lack of it long enough to form any sort of balanced relationship. Especially when the paparazzi got involved; anything they sank their teeth into was guaranteed to become a mess of epic proportions.
Take AJ and Z: happy as all fuck together, but constantly plagued by the vultures because of Z's past as an escort. There were times I couldn't even begin to comprehend how they could still be so madly in love after one of their battles with the press.
Shaking my head, I tugged my in-ear monitors out. Aimless contemplation wasn't going to get me any closer to finding my own happily ever after. Hell, I was almost willing to settle for a happy for now if I could find it. Memories of a sleek expanse of skin under my hands and a pair of blue eyes gazing down at me flashed through my mind, and I sighed. Raking my hand through my hair and tugging the damp curls out of my eyes, I looked up as AJ sashayed across the stage, frowning at me.
"You're being more serious than usual, Rich, man. Tell little old me what's got your panties in a twist?"
"S'nothing," I muttered, slouching lower on my stool.
Hands planted on his hips, AJ drawled, "You know, Rich, I'd believe that a hell of a lot more if you weren't trying to hide back there."
"Shove off, fucker, it's none of your business," I growled, chucking one of my drumsticks at him. Ignoring Tobin and Chris when they joined the pair of us in favor of glaring at our cackling singer, I crossed my arms over my chest. The man was a menace when Z wasn't around to control him. I frowned and glanced out at the floor. Speaking of little Z, where had he gotten off to?
Arms hooking under mine, Chris hauled me out from behind my drums. "Come on, big man, we all know something's got you tangled, so save yourself some aggravation and just spill already. The afternoon will go so much smoother if you don't make us force it out of you."
Pent up sigh whistling between my lips, I shoved my remaining drumstick into my back pocket and scanned the faces of my bandmates, seeing only concern in their eyes. They deserved to know why I'd been more snappish the past couple of days. We were all any of us had when we were in the midst of the draining cycle of touring and studio time we put ourselves through.
"Nervous, I guess," I muttered, refusing to look at any of the others. "We're close to home, and this is our last show for this tour. And, well, fuck, I haven't seen Garrett since the New Year's party nine months ago, and the thought of being able to finally see him in person again is driving me out of my mind."
Slinging an arm around my shoulders, Chris cuffed the back of my head. "This coming from the man who's received gifts at each of our stops f
rom said Garrett? The man who barely clears a hotel door before he's on the phone, calling to report we've arrived safely?"
"Rich, you've got it bad for him, don't you?" Tobin asked, staring up at me. "What's he got that I don't?"
Laughter rolling from me, I elbowed Tobin, my best friend since third grade, in the ribs. "Tobin, you're like a brother to me, and I'm sorry, but the whole incest thing doesn't do it for me."
"Good," murmured a voice I'd grown all too familiar with over the past year.
Heart skipping a beat, I shoved Tobin and Chris out of the way and stumbled forward, drinking in the sight of Garrett peering up at me from the arena floor. Pulse loud in my ears, I found myself too nervous to take another step in his direction. Blue eyes bright, he hopped onto the stage and glided towards my frozen body. Z, following in Garrett's shadow, smirked in my direction, his black hair hanging loose around his face.
That certainly explains where he vanished to, I thought as I turned my attention back to Garrett.
"I wanted to surprise you, but I was too impatient to wait until tomorrow night to do so," Garrett said, his hand held out to me.
Fingers tangling with his, I sank into his arms, mouth colliding with his. Rum and his favorite cinnamon gum flooding my taste buds, I broke from him long enough to suck in a quick breath before succumbing to another one of his demanding kisses. Tongue thrust down my throat, I moaned. God but I'd missed the taste of him. Curling my free arm low on his hips, I hooked my thumb through the belt loop of his slacks and met his hunger with my own.
Hot lips shifting to brush over my jaw, he breathed, "Missed you something fierce, drummer mine."
Groin stirring, I chewed on my bottom lip, struggling to hold the whimper of longing in my throat. Months of nothing but my own hand was a poor substitute in the face of him plastered to my front. I wanted nothing more than to drag him backstage and beg him to fuck me up against a wall. Arousal pressed into my hip echoing mine, Garrett tightened his hold on my hand.
"Missed you, too, Fancy," I managed to say before my lips were forced back under his. Releasing my hold on his pants, I slid my hand down to grab his ass and hauled him as close as possible. Guitar stains yanked me out of my dazed state of mind. I groaned when I recognized the song.
Wrenching myself out of Garrett's arms, I darted at AJ, snarling. "Oh hell no, you fucker, you are not singing that song at me!" Giggle pulling me up short, I twisted around to watch in horror as Z opened his mouth, launching into the opening lyrics of the song. Dancing away from my desperately seeking hands, he continued to sing, his voice surprisingly suited for the country twang in the song. "I hate you all right now. You guys are horrible excuses for friends," I hissed, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Garrett's teeth latching onto my earlobe, I sank back into his arms willingly, his heart a steady beat against my back. Moist heat of his mouth sucking on my flesh, he shoved a hand into the front pocket of my jeans. Cock jumping at the barely there brush of his nails through fabric, I shuddered. My ear released, Garrett purred, "Would you really put me in a song, Rich?"
"Ungh." I squirmed in his grip, twisting my head around to gaze at him. "Yes?"
"You're sweet, but I'm not special enough to deserve a song." Silencing my protests with a kiss, he held me close. Mouth freed, I panted, drawing a smile from Garrett with my breathlessness. Pecking the tip of my nose, he looked past me at the rest of the crew as they finished their teasing round of music and asked, "Have you and the boys finished embarrassing Rich, yet?"
Smirk decidedly dangerous, Z shrugged. "For now I suppose. Wouldn't want to use up all of our schemes in one afternoon when we can spread them out over the course of several weeks."
I groaned at the thought of them continuing their quest to make me die of embarrassment and slumped forward. This was completely unfair; it wasn't like I could help the way I reacted to Garrett.
"Don't worry your gorgeous head about these heathens, Rich. If they don't promise to behave, I'll just have to call the restaurant and change the reservation to one for a party of two instead," Garrett murmured, patting my shoulder.
"Dinner? You're treating all of us?" Inclining his head ,Garrett laughed softly in my ear as Tobin bounced over to set his guitar in its stand. Smile wide when he turned back to us, he asked, "Where you taking us, Mr. Rich's boyfriend?"
"Do you ever think with anything other than your stomach?" I muttered, ignoring the fact that my face was a nice cherry red from Garrett being called my boyfriend.
Grinning at my embarrassment, Tobin planted his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side. "Should I? I'm a growing boy you know, need to eat lots and lots to keep up my energy."
I rolled my eyes at him. He'd always been completely hopeless once food was mentioned around him. Twisting in Garrett's arms, his hand forced out of my pocket, I matched his happy smile with one of my own. It really was nice to be able to touch him again, even if being this close to him had me achingly hard. "So, where are we going for dinner?"
"I've got a private room reserved at a steak house near my hotel," he said, mouth brushing the curve of my ear. "And after dinner, I plan on kidnapping you and making you scream my name when I fuck you on every flat surface I can find in my room. I want you to feel me inside you when you're sitting behind those drums tomorrow, so you can't help but think of me while you perform for your screaming fangirls."
Shiver skittering down my spine, I didn't even attempt to silence my pleased whimper.
*~*~*
Leading the way into the steak house's lobby, I snorted at the hostess beaming vacantly in our direction. Fingers entwined with mine, Rich glanced curiously at me over the rims of his mirrored glasses. Pulse relaxed against my palm, finally, he flashed my arched brow one of his devastating smiles. I dropped a chaste kiss to his mouth before I looked back at the hostess to say, "We've got a reservation for ten at seven under Joseph, and the sooner we can be seated, the better."
A pair of bodyguards glancing our direction from the bar inclined their heads, letting us know we were covered from that angle. The hostess scanned the list at her podium, then quickly beamed back up at me. Waving a server towards us she glanced at the door when the second pair of bodyguards entered the restaurant and joined us. Giving me a more genuine smile, the server chirped a greeting.
Passing the girl a stack of menus, the hostess murmured, "They're in the back room."
Bodyguards exiting the bar and sliding alongside us to mirror the other pair, our server blinked at their unannounced appearance. "Of course, if you will follow me?" she said. Weaving through the crowded dining room, she kept a steady stream of chatter going. "My name is Jaz, and as I'm sure you've gathered, I'll be your server tonight. You guys don't sound like you're from here. I admit, I’m curious, what's brought you to the city? Are you here for the Darkest Mercy concert tomorrow?"
"Something like that," I drawled, Rich muffling a cough against my shoulder. I jabbed him in the ribs and gave him a reproachful look. He was going to get us caught up in a mob if he wasn't careful. "Hush gorgeous, you can cackle all you want once we're successfully seated."
Opening door to the private room in sight, I twitched when a high-pitched squeal pierced the dining room's quiet hum. Jaz freezing at the sound, I nudged her forward as the bodyguards shifted and closed in around our group.
"Keep moving, ma'am," one of the guards said. "Trust me when I say it'll only get worse from here." Staring up at the bodyguard who spoke, Jaz nodded hesitantly. Moving towards the room with a renewed sense of urgency, she flinched at the second shriek.
Flash of a camera dazzling my sight, I held tight to Rich, my control over the night unraveling further, when a voice from across the room screeched, "Rich! Rich, I love you!"
Turning as we continued to move forward, never loosening his grip on my hand, Rich blew the dining room a kiss. Hand lifted from my side, he brushed his lips over my knuckles and crooned. "Thank you sweetheart; however, my heart's already taken fo
r the night."
The noise of the crowd growing as more of the diners took notice of the boys, I stumbled over the slight step at the private room's entry. Flushing at my misstep, I sagged eagerly into Rich's arms, burying my face in his throat. Sucking a mark up on Rich's skin, needing to reaffirm my claim over him, I shuddered. God, how did they do this day in and day out? Never knowing when they'd be recognized, their quiet trips transformed into a chaotic mass of fans.
Carding fingers through my hair he murmured, "Welcome to my life."
Snorting against his neck I lifted my eyes, gaping at the tableau which greeted me. Almost in the room, Zidane was locked in a game tug of war with a trio of girls over his arm, while AJ was trapped in the dining room, half of the security alongside him, a brilliant fake smile plastered on his face as he signed autographs on placemats and cocktail napkins.
"Come on, Z, come to my hotel, I can pay you," one of the girls yanking on him cooed.
I blanched at the audacity of the girls in possession of Zidane's arm, my protective side flaring. Grunting when Rich tightened his hold on me, keeping me from moving, I turned my gaze to his calm one.
"Don't, Garrett, our guards will take care of it." A gentle, apologetic kiss grazed my lips. "Z's gotten quite a bit of practice in dealing with the fans during the tour; he's not as fragile as he looks."
I twisted to watch the bodyguards separate AJ from the mob and shuttle him past the group by the door. Hazel eyes quickly taking stock of the rest of his bandmates, AJ turned around as the same two guards stepped forward to free Zidane.
Black hair torn free of its braid, Zidane strode backwards across the threshold, wiggling his fingers at the girls. "Sugar dolls, you should know by now that I belong to AJ, and we don't share each other," he purred before he pushed the door shut with a thud.
Silence descending on the room, Rich loosened his grip around my waist, no longer needing to keep me from interfering. Chin held high, shamelessly, Zidane clapped his hands together to break the stifling silence, and said, "Now that I've worked up an appetite wrestling my own limbs back from the brink of hell, dinner sounds even more amazing than it did before."