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I turn back around in my seat to face the mirror as Steve exits the room only after depositing the little bag of cocaine in my rucksack for later. I button up my shirt and begin busying myself with the items in front of me on the dressing room table and as soon as Steve vanishes you magically appear, slipping in swiftly and quietly. I’d hardly even noticed you at first. It was strange, almost as if Steve never left, just morphed into you I suppose.
I pick up the eyeliner and watch your reflection in the mirror as you stand behind me and cross your arms—an air of defiance and impatience in your stance as if you were waiting for something from me—and you remain close to the edge of the room.
“What’s the matter?” I ask as you continue to glare at me, following my movements as I carefully line my eyes with the black kohl.
“Noth-nothing.” You reply and look down quickly and you nearly laugh…and I have no idea why.
I finish my task and place the eyeliner down on the table.
“Are you sure?” I swing around in my seat and you avert my gaze, your eyes landing across the room on the cans of beer sitting in the bucket of ice on the floor against the wall.
“Yeah, just need another beer.” You conclude flatly, and you walk over and pluck out a can.
“Simon," I sigh, "Please tell me what’s the matter.”
You don’t answer, just shrug, pop the tab on the can and take a long gulp of beer.
I know you, and hiding how you really feel isn’t exactly your strongest quality, especially in front of me. And as I sit there and watch you shift from one foot to the other I think I have a fairly good idea of just what happens to be up your ass lately. You’ve been distant and moody, yet refusing to let me out of your sight—constantly hovering ever since Steve had met up with us on these few dates of the tour. I suspect its jealousy. It wouldn’t be unlike you as you’ve become rather volatile these days, but I can’t assume anything. I have to hear it from you.
“When did he show up?” Your harsh glare moves from the floor back up to me, then quickly down again.
Now that didn’t take long at all. In fact, I’m a bit disappointed in just how predictable this confrontation has become.
“Maybe a few hours ago. Why?”
You shrug again.
“How long's he here for?”
“I don’t know. I’m not his fucking wife, Simon.” And I know just what to say to make your eyes snap up, “Nor am I his boyfriend…”
And just as I expected, that smoldering glare immediately meets mine. Now I’m the one who’s about to laugh; I’m so spot-on it’s frightening.
I stand and hesitate for a moment before stepping towards you, causing you to move back slightly.
“Well, he’s not coming with us after the gig later tonight… Is he?”
Now it’s my turn to shrug, but not out of spite, it’s simply because I honestly have no idea what Steve’s plans are.
“Why?” I ask and inch closer, “Does that bother you?”
You’ve backed up against the wall as I advance and close in, our bodies now only a few inches apart and I can feel your breath blowing on my face. It smells like the copious amounts of beer you’ve been drinking this evening.
I’m still waiting for an answer and you know I won’t stop until I get one.
“Well, Simon?”
My hand comes up under your chin to tilt it upwards and it slowly rises, but then your eyes dart away.
“No, it-it doesn’t.” You utter. And I can tell you're lying; you still won’t look at me.
I shake my head slowly and smile sweetly.
“You needn’t worry.” My reassurance is a mere whisper, and I move in so close that our noses touch.
My tongue flicks out to taste that moist bottom lip, and I know I've caught you off guard when I hear your reaction; a long trembling sigh. I tilt my head and kiss you so very gently–our mouths barely touching...and a small, quiet groan escapes from those slightly parted lips, but you remain perfectly still.
I place my right hand on your shoulder, my touch as light as a feather…and your eyes meet mine at last. You lick your lips as my hand lightly glides down the front of you and stops just at the front of your trousers, fingers running up and down the length of your zipper, feeling how hard you've become through the thin, black fabric.
“I still want to suck your cock…” I breathe, and finally kiss you, my mouth opening as your tongue slides inside and I suck on it, drawing it in further, pulling slightly as you moan, your hand pushing mine down on top of your erection. You’re so hard and so hot under my palm that I can’t help but let out a soft moan as I grind my arousal into yours, and your breath quickens, hands desperately clutching at my hips as I do so.
“I need you.” I purr, and as I slowly slide your zipper down and reach inside, your cock pulses in my grasp, “You’re the only one…”
And that much is true…for tonight at least…
*the end*