Social Sinners

by TL Travis

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, my hand slipped.” I felt so fucking bad, if he wanted to quit I’d totally understand.

  Groaning, he demanded, “Don’t move.”

  His eyes were once again closed, and I was afraid I’d hurt him. But a few seconds later, he opened them and looked up at me. “I’m okay. Try moving again. Slowly.”

  I was already half way out, but I fixed my focus on his face while gradually pushing back in. If he showed any sign of pain I was out and done. But this time when he moaned, it didn’t sound painful, so I pushed in until he was seated against me and stopped. His tight ass felt like a vise grip on my dick and I was ready to blow.

  “Keep going,” he told me, reaching down to stroke himself. He’d softened during my hand sliding mishap. I wanted to watch his cock swell, but I knew if I did, it would be game over even faster for me, and I needed to make sure he got off first.

  I pulled back and he wrapped his legs around my waist pushing me inside. This time, I hit his spot and he ground up against me.

  “Yes, that’s it, do that again.” Each stroke of his hand increased in speed. He drew in his bottom lip and closed his eyes.

  “I’m gonna come, Lucas, I can’t hold on much longer,” I warned him, drawing back.

  “Kiss me,” he said. I leaned over, melding his lips with mine him and pushed in again. I had to slow my roll or be done, so I opted for shorter thrusts aimed at hitting his spot until he was near the edge.

  “Fuck,” he breathed in deep, “Gonna. Come.” After a couple more strokes timed with my thrusts, he coated his chest and hand with his release. Between that and his ass throbbing around my cock, I lost it.

  “Oh fuck,” I bellowed, fully seating myself inside him as I filled the condom.

  While that felt like fucking heaven (no pun intended, well, maybe), and even though he came too, I knew it was far from a stellar first time. But was there really such a thing?

  He fell asleep almost immediately after. I disposed of the condom and curled up behind him, I woke in the middle of the night, finding the bed empty beside me. After dressing, I went out front hoping the van was still there. When I opened the side door, I was met with the sounds of Diamond’s snoring and laughed having found my three band members passed out inside.

  “Up and at ‘em boys before the neighbors have our van towed.” I hopped in as Stoli tossed me the keys.

  “You drive, that boy wore me out,” he shared while rolling over and going back to sleep.

  The playful grin on his face told me everything was right again in our universe, for the time being.

  Chapter

  Eight

  Summer, 2010

  Things kinda took off and life got crazy busy. We found ourselves playing dive bars and random gigs from Portland to Bellingham. Seemed once we neared the legal drinking age, the bar owners cared less about our ages and focused more on our musical abilities and the crowds we drew. Lucas upped the ante on social media and helped with events as best he could electronically, though most of his time was consumed with his courses, but he’d meet up with us from time to time.

  As our local following increased, the masses hanging around outside of our houses gained in popularity. Brett suggested we look for another place to hold band practices. Mary was pregnant and having random people near the house at all hours of the day and night was making her nervous, which we totally understood. Brett was still managing us, but introduced us to a friend of his that ran The Jam Box in lower Queen Anne in Seattle. It’s a local hall a lot of bands, some of which became famous practiced at. After talking to him, we rented a space and moved our equipment and practices there. We had Lucas pimp it on social media to help lure them away from our neighborhood.

  The owners cleaned the room up as best they could, but it still smelled like piss and puke from the previous tenants. It was dingy as fuck and parking sucked, but we could get in anytime we wanted which worked well for our schedules. Unless you knew exactly what you were looking for, you’d miss the building entirely. The windows were painted to match the exterior, so no one could see in. The walls in our cell on the second floor were spray painted with random shit from bands who’d used it in the past. Mickey took it upon his artistic self to add Social Sinners graffiti to the mix. Once he got our logo up and we had it somewhat user friendly, it felt more like our own space. But this was the place where so many great Seattle bands practiced before getting their big break and we had high hopes that the same would happen for us.

  With all of us still living at home, well Diamond at casa Hayes, our bills were pretty much band related, so we were able to scrape up enough to pay the menial monthly rent they’d asked for. There were sixty rental spaces in total, so at any given time there were a shit ton of bands jamming out and the walls were not well insulated. That alone made it difficult to hear your own thoughts. But if you were interested, you could hear just about any type of music you liked on any given day. Bands ranged from grunge to alternative, light rock to metal, hell I even heard some love sick poppy crap and country a time or two. But hey, to each his own. We cranked up our amps and rocked the shit to tune it out. But if music was your dream, this was the place to be as it seemed like bands were forever looking for replacement members. Flyers for auditions and shows flanked the walls of the passageways.

  Lucas didn’t come around anymore for practices, said he didn’t feel safe down here but outside of hookers soliciting us and dealers trying to sell their goods, we didn’t have too many problems. We’d see other bands get into knock down drag out fights, but we stuck to our own and kept out of their shit. This place had a huge waiting list and we were lucky to get in and promised Brett we wouldn’t do anything to mess it up and risk getting kicked out.

  Today when we finished practicing, we got a wild hair up our asses to get some new ink. The addiction started about two years ago when we the four of us went together to get our first tats – the Social Sinners logo that Mickey designed. The same one that’s plastered on the side of our van, is now in our practice space and is permanently embedded on our bodies. It’s a badass logo and yet at the same time its simplicity at its finest. The lettering of both words was in a thick black, but the “S’s” were yellow lightning bolts. Each of us had it placed on the insides of our right forearms. From there, all tattoo hell broke loose.

  “Hey guys, ready for more ink?” Mash asked when we walked into his shop. On one of our previous visits we asked about his name and he told us he has a bad habit of mashing things with his fists, his forehead, you name it. His friends started calling him that as a teen and it stuck with him. Every time I saw him I wanted to recite Hulk Smash like the character himself said it.

  “You know it,” Diamond said, fist bumping him.

  “Where are you guys playing this weekend?” he asked. Mash has been a fan since he went to a show after doing our first tats.

  “Couple bars in Vancouver. At least they’re close enough we can go home afterwards,” Stoli told him.

  “Right on, if I wasn’t booked solid with appointments this weekend I’d cruise down and check it out. Okay, who’s up first?” He slapped his hands together, peering anxiously at us. I don’t know who got a bigger rise out of tattoos, Mash or those on the receiving end of his artistic talents.

  “I’ll go,” Stoli spoke up, “I want ‘Carpe Diem’ in one-inch old English lettering across my lower abdomen just above my pant line.”

  “Dude, seriously?” I said, stunned, “You want seize the day just above your dick?” Seemed no one else caught that but me because after I said it they lost it.

  “Hell yeah. I’m a gift to all and they should acknowledge it,” he said as he took off his shirt and starting flexing like a wannabe bodybuilder before unbuttoning his pants and laying down on Derek’s table.

  “Cocky fucker,” I mumbled, and to further prove my point he winked and blew me a kiss.

  “What are you gonna get?” Mickey asked me while the three of us were checking out
the portfolios in the waiting area.

  “Not sure. I might bow out this time,” I told them.

  “Dude, why?” Diamond asked.

  “The last time I spent money on myself it ended up turning into a big argument with Lucas.”

  “I didn’t think you guys were still dating,” Mickey mumbled.

  “What do you mean, we’ve been serious for like three years now.” I lowered the book, glaring at him. Something about that statement bothered me.

  “Uh, nothing.” He looked at Diamond but refused to make eye contact with me.

  Diamond motioned over his shoulder to the storefront windows. When I looked up, I spotted Lucas outside talking to some guy who was standing way too close to my boyfriend. I dropped the portfolio on top of the glass coffee table and stormed outside.

  When I reached Lucas, I wrapped my arm around his waist possessively. I felt like a dog marking his territory, but the way the guy was eyeing him pissed me off.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Mr. Zero Fucking Personality asked me.

  “I’m the boyfriend, who the fuck are you?” I’d never been jealous before or in a fight in my life, but I was ready to throw down with this asshole.

  “Someone who isn’t interested in the drama associated with this,” he pointed to Lucas before turning and walking away.

  “Jealous much?” Lucas asked me.

  “That guy was looking at you like you were his fucking dessert and I didn’t like it.” That statement was laced with so much venom that I couldn’t believe it came out of my mouth.

  “What if he was someone I knew?” Lucas said, pulling away from me.

  “Did you know him?” I already knew the answer based upon the asshole’s response, but I needed Lucas to say it.

  “No, but that’s not the point,” he said defensively.

  “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then. What are you doing here anyways?” Fuck this bullshit.

  “Looking for you. I wanted to see if you had a break so we could hang out. Please tell me you aren’t wasting more money on tattoos?” he all but snarled. Needless to say, he had no ink on his body.

  “First off, how did you know where to find me?” My jealousy had rolled into curiosity that was teetering on the edge of anger.

  “I went to the studio and the guy at the front desk said he heard you guys say something about getting new ink. So I knew where to find you,” Lucas explained, he knew Mash was our go-to guy for all our ink.

  “You could have called first. I know how much you hate the studio and that would’ve saved you some time.” For some reason this conversation was pissing me off too. What the fuck is wrong with me today?

  He crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. “Check your phone, Joey, I called and texted. My guess is you never turned the ringer back on after practice.”

  I pulled it out of my pocket, noticing I’d missed several calls and texts from Lucas. When I gazed up, he was staring knowingly back at me.

  “Sorry.” I clicked the ringer back on. “And no, I bowed out of getting a new tat.”

  “My car’s around the corner, do you want to go out or not?” The attitude behind that made feel like I’d be better off with the guys for the night. But I guessed I owed him after the way I’d just overreacted.

  “Yeah, let me give the van keys to the guys. Wait here, I’ll be right back,” I said before walking inside.

  “Hey guys, I’m gonna take off with Lucas,” I said, tossing the keys to Diamond.

  “Whapush!” Mickey sounded, cracking an invisible whip.

  “I’m not fucking whipped,” I argued, stomping my heavy black boots across the floor and right out the door.

  “Everything okay?” Lucas asked when I walked up to him.

  “Same old shit, just another day. Where do you want to go eat?” I asked, pulling my long hair back into an elastic band.

  “You pick, you’re paying,” he informed me.

  His words stopped me dead. “Let me get this right – I can spend money taking you out or buying you something but can’t do the same for myself. That’s kinda bullshit, don’t you think?”

  He gave me his best pouty face, batting his baby blues my way.

  Made me want to hug and smack him at the same time. “God, you’re so fucking frustrating!”

  Lucas wrapped his arms around my neck, standing on his tiptoes. “But you love me and you know it,” he said before kissing me.

  I smacked his ass as our lips parted. “Come on, let’s go to dinner.” I always gave in to him. I didn’t understand the power he had over me. And I hated the riff between him and my bandmates, but he seemed unaffected by it and as long as that was the case, I should learn to let it go.

  We hopped into his Toyota Camry and headed north out of the city up I-5 toward Everett. And of course, he chose a restaurant in his price range rather than one in mine. Had he opted for the other we’d be eating at Ivar’s instead of a high-end seafood restaurant with waterfront views.

  Entering, I could feel all eyes turn my way because I stood out like a sore thumb here. I’d released my hair from the band I had it in, so my long, wavy auburn locks flowed freely down my back. My torn jeans, black sleeveless Metallica concert shirt and heavy black boots thudded as I crossed their pristine hardwood floors. I supposed the smattering of tattoos decorating my left arm and my lip piercings only added to the disgust clearly written on their disapproving faces. Evidently, they hadn’t heard the phrase never judge a book by its cover.

  I placed my hand at the small of Lucas’s back as the hostess led us to our seats. The restaurant wasn’t overly busy, which allowed us to snag a table by the window with a great view of the sound right as sun began to set. Ever since I could remember, I was drawn to watching the sunset over the water. There was something calm and soothing seeing the golden spectrum transitioning into fiery oranges and blushing pink hues as it slowly faded into the darkness of night.

  “Joey?” Lucas’s voice snapped me from my Zen.

  “Ugh, sorry.” I looked up and saw the waiter standing beside me with pen and paper in hand.

  “What would you like to drink, sir?” he asked what I am assuming was for the second time.

  “Just water for now, thanks.” I sat my menu down as he walked away and turned to Lucas. “Wow, that was a stellar sunset.”

  “Mmm hmm,” he mumbled, still looking at the menu.

  “Lucas.” I wasn’t sure what was going on today, but his lack of care for my feelings grated on my last nerve.

  “What?” he asked, taking a sip of his water.

  “Why are we still together?” Filter removed…

  “Because our crazy schedules work for us without anyone getting pissy when the other doesn’t have time to see them. From a business standpoint, we work well together,” he informed me.

  I tossed my napkin down and started to stand, his hand snaked around my wrist, drawing my attention back to him. “That’s it huh?” My heart was in this one hundred percent, but obviously his wasn’t. Business standpoint my ass.

  “Sit, you’re being a big baby,” he complained. “Please, Joey. You know I love you and I know you love me. Now can we get back to dinner, I’m starving.”

  It felt like my chest had been filleted and my heart was on the table for the gawking eyes to laugh and poke at. I’d told him multiple times over the years that I loved him. Occasionally, he would mumble it back, but never had he said it as clearly as he did just then. But did I believe his words or were they only said to sate me?

  Right as I sat back down, the waiter reappeared. He must have been waiting around the corner to see how this played out before approaching us. “Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

  “Yes,” Lucas said, “I’ll take the lobster alfredo with a bowl of the clam chowder.” He handed his menu to the waiter.

  “Very good,” he said before turning to me, “And for you, sir?”

  “Burger, rare with fries.” I handed him my menu but never took my eyes off Lucas.


  “What?” he asked when he finally looked up and saw me staring at him.

  “It’s just. Fuck, never mind.” I didn’t know how to verbalize what I was feeling let alone thinking, so it was better to let it go. Again.

  “I forgot to tell you, my dad has a friend who manages bands. His son Easton goes to UDub with me and he’s grooming him to manage a band or two. They’re looking to take on more clients. I gave him your number but here’s his card.” He pulled the card from his wallet and handed it to me.

  “Thanks, but Brett manages us.” I took the card, but wasn’t sure why he was mentioning this.

  “You guys are starting to get a lot of attention locally as well as on social media. With your first CD on the brink of release, life is going to go from zero to a hundred before you know it. Brett has a new baby on the way and he’s going to have a lot on his plate. Talk to the guys about it and if you’re interested give him a call and see what he has to say. I had Easton in some of my marketing classes, he’s a smart guy, but on a personal level I don’t really know him. He keeps to himself, kind of quiet and reserved.” He picked up his spoon, digging into the bowl of chowder the waiter had delivered.

  The remainder of our meal consisted of me listening to Lucas talk about school and his plans after. He too would be going into business with his father, but I noticed there wasn’t one mention of where I fit into his life plan.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Lucas told me once we were back inside his car.

  “No problem, want to head back to my place for a while?” I asked as I snapped my seatbelt in place.

  “Sounds good to me, but I can’t stay late I’ve got shit to do tomorrow,” he said, looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking space.

  He’d never stayed over, not once. I’m not sure if that’s normal or not considering this is the one and only relationship I’ve ever had. The drive to my house only took about ten minutes, and when we pulled up I spotted the van parked in front of Stoli’s place. As long as Lucas’ car was parked in front of my house I wouldn’t hear from him, which was the norm when Lucas was over. When he’s around, no one else was – including my father whose car was missing from the driveway. Once we got inside, we headed straight up to my room.