"Hey Robert! Groupie here to see you!"
Robert groaned and tilted his head back over the arm of the dilapidated couch to glare half-heartedly at Lol. "Tell her to come back tomorrow."
Lol snickered and turned to the dark, shaggy-haired shadow behind him. "Hear that Simon? Too bad, he says - "
"Lol! Quit messing about!" Michael bonked the curly-haired young man over the head with an empty bottle. "Come in, Simon."
Robert tried to sit up gracefully, but instead ended up on the floor. "Owch..."
Simon chuckled softly and pushed his friend back on to the couch. They were all in the back room of a small pub, after performing earlier that evening. "You all right?"
"Nothing bruised but pride, heh, Rob?" Michael laughed, hanging over the back of the couch until Robert scowled at him and swatted for him to go away.
"Fuck off, man..."
Lol wandered off for another drink as Michael put on his jacket. "Worn right out; I'm off home. See you tomorrow."
Simon waved a cheery, fond farewell, and stole Robert's beer while he wasn't looking.
"Oy! Simon!" the older boy groaned, as he fought to get it back. "That's mine!"
"S'mine now!" Simon's eyes glittered and he winked as he tilted the empty bottle upside-down. "Whoops. All gone. May I have another?"
"No." Robert hugged his last unopened bottle to himself. "Mine."
Simon's lip trembled, eyes watering. "Please?"
"Fuck off!" Robert downed the bottle at once, so Simon couldn't steal it. He put it down and took a breath, head spinning pleasently. The room wavered as the empty slipped from his fingers. "Whoo..."
Simon chuckled, shaking his head. "Bad Robert. You're so mean to me!"
"I wouldn't have to be, if you'd stop trying to steal my drinks!"
Simon stuck his tongue out. "Phooey on you!"
Robert drunkenly grabbed hold of the offending muscle, and pinched it between his fingers and thumb. "Watch it!"
Simon yelped and whimpered, eyes watering again as he blinked at Robert in confusion.
"Don't you point that thing at me."
Simon glared, then leaned forward and took Robert's fingers delicately into his mouth. The older boy stopped dead, drunken mind whirling. "Simon. What are you doing?"
Simon curled his tongue around Robert's fingers, rolling it a bit, sucking; his eyelids fluttered slightly as he leaned in and took in more, up to the older boy's knuckles.
The singer shivered, chills running up his arm before he yanked it away, wiping it furiously on his trousers. "What the fuck was that for?!"
"Nothing." Simon was very pointedly not looking at him.
Shaking his head to try and clear it, Robert stared at his hand, then up at Simon again. "Quit fucking around, Simon, you sucked my hand like a bloody whore, man..."
Simon winced, eyes watering again as he flushed, still not looking at Robert. "Sorry."
"Simon, what - "
"I said I was sorry! Christ! Leave me alone!" he stood up quickly, hurrying for the door, stumbling.
Robert lurched up after him, head throbbing. "What? Wait! Simon, no!" He caught up just as Simon's hand was on the knob; unfortunately he lost his balance and dragged his friend down with him to the floor.
Simon blinked, then glared at him. "Let me up!"
"Not 'till you tell me what's going on!"
He struggled, but Robert had him pinned. "Simon. Please." The older boy stared at him plaintively.
Simon sighed and looked away, then he rocked his hips up unexpectedly against Robert's.
He was hard.
The older boy jerked back as though he'd been burned, a look of horror on his face. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he scrambled away, struggling to sit on the couch again. "What's wrong with you?!"
"Nothing is wrong with me!" Simon yelled angrily, sitting up and stomping over to Robert's side. He wobbled a bit and fell over on the couch. The older boy moved away.
Simon's eyes ticked down and away. "I...I can't help it. When I'm around you, I..."
"God, Simon, don't, that sounds so bad." Robert ran his fingers through his hair, still shaking in anger and confusion. "You...you're a fag?"
"You make me feel safe. You're the only one that's listened to me for a long time. I think..."
"Don't say anything." Robert grimaced. "Don't say anything; this never happened. We're just normal kids and you never...you're just my friend. I don't wanna lose that..."
"You won't..." Simon's voice was small and hurt, but Robert didn't seem to notice. "Could you just...keep me, then?"
Robert stonily wrapped an arm around Simon's shoulders, pulling him closer without looking at him. He was warm, though. "I can do that."
Simon tucked his head underneath Robert's chin, closing his eyes. The older boy held his friend close, as close as he dared; and for a moment, all was serene, and peaceful.
It was with open arms that Robert asked Simon to join them in 1980, and Mattieu didn’t seem to mind the attention, either. It hadn’t been that long since Simon’s awkward confessions, and he was still rather edgy in private. When sober, that was.
It wasn’t far into their next tour that the two boys found themselves returning to their hotel room long after the bars had closed. With his arm slung over Simon’s shoulders, they laughed at a bunch of cats fighting over a rat in the street, chasing one another around. Robert felt warm and completely at ease. He could feel his friend’s arms around his middle, struggling to stand upright as they made their way back to the hotel.
When the clouds burst open and began to pour, Simon practically dove under Robert’s jacket. “Don’t let me get wet! I’ll melt!” he yowled, burrowing his face into the side of the older boy’s neck.
Robert shivered as Simon’s hot breath flowed over his skin, causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise and stand on end. Forcing a laugh, he sped up, wanting to get out of this awkward position. They made it back just in time for the sky to really let loose, and Robert had just locked the door to his room when the power went out.
Swearing rather creatively, he stripped out of his soaked clothes and groped for a towel in the dark. He nearly fell in the bathroom; he banged his elbow on the sink and his knee on the toilet. “Augh!”
He found one of the hotel’s cheap bath towels and was drying himself off when he heard a knock on the outer door. Scowling, he wrapped the towel around his waist and unlocked it. “Who’s there?”
Simon stood in the darkened hallway, blinking at Robert with huge eyes. He was wrapped up in a couple of towels as well, and shifting from foot to foot uneasily.
“Can I come in? I don’t like to be alone in the dark…”
Robert blinked, then looked away and took a step back, letting Simon into the room. “Sure…”
The younger boy followed close behind him in the dark; the only light came from the half-moon shining through the small window. Robert sat down on the bed, with a soft sigh, as Simon lowered himself into a chair. “I can…er…sleep on the floor…”
“Don’t be silly.” The singer shook his head, wishing he’d had more to drink. He patted the sheets next to himself. “You’ll catch cold. Get over here.”
Simon shifted, then slowly went over and climbed in, snuggling quietly against Robert under the blankets.
“Try anything funny, though, and you’re back in your own room.” The older boy said simply, lying down and closing his eyes.
Simon laughed weakly. “All right…”
It kept him warm, at least, Robert thought, wrapping an arm around his younger band-mate. “Simon?”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Nothing…”
Simon let out a short, soft breath, and snuggled closer, the length of his body pressed up against Robert’s side. “I’m getting colder…”
The older boy nodded. “Temperature’s going down, I guess.”
Simon hesitated, then reached down and let a hand rest on Robert’s lower belly. “You know, if we –“
The singer jumped as if he’d been electrocuted. “What? Simon! No!” He shook his head, but didn’t move his friend’s hand. Oddly enough, it was simply a warm, comforting pressure.
“Why not?” the hand moved a little lower, now rubbing in light circles.
“You’re drunk, Simon.” Robert said, his throat feeling dry and tongue heavy. It felt like he was trying to convince himself more than Simon. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret this.” Simon murmured softly, pressing a slow, soft kiss to Robert’s lips. The older boy froze, his mind racing. He wanted to push Simon away, but at the same time, he didn’t want to lose such a dear new friend. So he just stayed still.
Simon’s mouth was gone. Robert felt warm breath on his ear; he shuddered.
“Just let me toss you off. Just this once. I just want to touch you.”
God. He closed his eyes again, tightly, barely able to keep back the deep groan that wanted to escape from his throat. In a minute he’d be past the point of no return; he could already feel an odd heat swelling in his lower belly.
“Please.” Simon was kissing Robert’s throat.
“Just this once, then.” The older boy whispered, shivering. “Just this once…”
He woke up feeling slightly ill, and he was sticking to the sheets.
Wrinkling his nose, he remembered what he had let Simon do to him the previous night, and he felt a wave of guilt and disgust wash up over him.
Looking around, he noticed that the younger boy wasn't in bed with him. Sitting up with a sigh, Robert peeled the sheets off of himself and went to go take a shower. He found Simon, half passed-out, over the toilet.
"Ugh."
"It's your own fault, you shouldn't have drank so much." Robert said, before he could stop himself.
Simon let out somthing akin to a sob and another wave of illness hit him; he vomited into the toilet bowl.
Gagging, Robert hurried into the shower and began to scrub himself clean; he felt filthy and used. Simon pulled the bottom of the shower curtain aside; "Can I take a shower?"
"You'll wait 'till I'm done - and don't you dare watch me!" Robert snarled, yanking the curtain back across and closed. Then he winced, and sagged a bit, drawing it back.
"Simon? Sorry...come here..." he took the younger boy's arm and helped him into the shower, beginning to wash the mess off of both of them.
The bassist remained limp and silent, a sad expression on his face. Robert couldn't tell whether or not Simon was crying because of the shower.
"Simon, I..." his heart sank. "I didn't mean to be so rude...I'm sorry..."
Simon still didn't say anything, but he did rest his head on Robert's shoulder and breathe a shaky sigh into the older boy's wet skin.
Robert supressed a shudder of desire.
Simon was his friend. And besides - good Catholic boys didn't lust after other good Catholic boys.
So why did he want Simon to kiss him and touch him again? God. Thinking about last night was making him ache. Just the thought of it...and the pain, the agony of thinking that this was it. Simon was going to leave...he'd never hold the shaggy-haired, doe-eyed boy this close ever again. They'd never stumble home together in laughter, he'd never again taste Simon's soft, warm lips...
The water was running cold, so Robert turned it off and began to dry them. Simon wouldn't look at him.
"Please..." Robert found himself begging. "Please, Simon, talk to me..."
Simon trailed his fingers down the older boy's arm, sighing quietly and looking at the floor. "I didn't want you to hate me. I know you do now, but I want you to know I'm not sorry." Simon's eyes ticked upwards, searching Robert's face. "I wouldn't take it back, and I'd do it again if I could." he finished, as Robert blanched and tried to stutter an argument.
"I - I don't! I don't hate you!"
Simon smiled sweetly. "That's a lovely lie, it really is. But you'd kill me if I did that again, wouldn't you? If I got down on my knees and took your cock into my mouth and sucked you dry, you'd crush me like a butterfly's wing and leave me on the floor to die."
The older boy's mouth went dry and he wet his lips nervously. His knees had nearly buckled at the very thought of Simon sucking him off. "D-don't say that..."
"Which part?" Simon inquired, innocently yet cruelly. He leaned forward a bit and Robert found himself shrinking back. He could almost taste the vomit in Simon's mouth, so acrid was the scent. "My death? Or the first part, where I do this - "
He dropped to his knees, quite suddenly, and swallowed the older boy's arousal down into his throat.
Robert's eyes bulged and his hips jerked forward of their own accord. He gasped and his hands scrabbled for purchase on the wet porcelin sink behind him as his knees started to give way.
"Simon - noooo - " he groaned, one hand sliding into the younger boy's hair to tangle up and pull. "Oh - please - nooooo - "
Simon took no notice; if anything, he seemed to take this in stride; he bobbed and sucked with new enthousiasm, holding Robert's hips in place. He hollowed out his cheeks, humming and purring in his throat as he ground his back teeth lightly over the sensative head of Robert's arousal.
The older boy sobbed brokenly, and tried hard to hold back; if he came now, in Simon's mouth, then that was it. He was a fag, he was a queer, he'd never be able to look at girls ever again...fuck...Mary...no! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
"SIMON!" he choked, eyes squeezed shut to stop the flow of tears as he came, sinking down to the floor, breaking into fresh sobs.
Simon came up and wrapped his arms around Robert, even as the older boy fought to get away, humiliated: "Shhh, it's all right - it's all right - it's all right..."
Robert had locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out for most of the day. He kept washing himself, scrubbing down, trying to get rid of how disgusting he felt. He couldn't stop crying, and everyone kept trying to coax him into coming out.
Finally, at about four in the afternoon, Lol rapped on the door sharply.
"Stop being such a stupid git and get out here. Whatever happened to you, none of us give a fuck, and we have a show tonight."
Robert turned off the water, dried himself off, and got dressed. Lol was waiting for him outside in his hotel room, with a small tray of food and some water. The singer ate in silence.
...
After the show, Robert was feeling much better. He was brimming with energy, and running off the high of the performance. He was feeling invincible.
Until he found himself alone with Simon in the dressing room.
He froze as the younger boy locked the door and began to fix his hair in the mirror.
"You look dreadful. Sit down before you fall down." Simon said, pulling the older boy into a chair and stroking his cheek softly, tenderly. Robert bit his lip and looked away.
"Simon please...please stop..." the fear and trembling in his voice made him want to cry even more. He sounded so pathetic...
"I'm not doing anything...yet..." Simon said, looking forward so that his face was less than an inch away from Robert's. The older boy flinched and shivered; he could feel Simon's hot breath against his lips. Just a tiny gap...and then...and then...
Simon's mouth was on his and they were kissing; the younger boy tasted so sweet. Robert could feel wetness on his cheeks; he was crying. He fought to keep from putting his arms around Simon, fought to keep himself from pulling the younger boy into his lap, fought to keep himself from moaning loudly as Simon slid a hand down between his thighs -
Robert jerked away, gasping for air and dumped the bassist onto the floor, tumbling backwards off of his own chair. "NO!"
Simon laughed airily and sat up, chuckling coyly and touching his lips. "Mmm...why so scared? After all, you're the one who kissed me..."
Robert's heart skipped a beat. "Wh-what?" he stammered. "N-no! I didn't!"
"You did." Simon grinned nastily, slinking forward and draping himself over the older boy's prone and quivering body. He pressed himself down and Robert whimpered.
"Please, don't! Stop!"
"'Don't stop'?" Simon leered, grinding his hips down into Robert's. "All right. I won't."
"No! Oh please, stop! Don't do this!" the older boy shook with sobs of humiliation and he struggled in vain to get Simon off of him. He felt himself growing steadily harder.
"Don't fight me...don't deny me...you want this...you need this...you need me." Simon purred into Robert's ear, tonguing it slowly as he slid a hand between them to open Robert's pants. "I could ride you, you know. I could take your cock in me, make you come so hard...don't you want to feel how tight I am? Just for you...just for you...don't you want to come?"
"God...!"
"Oh Christ, no..."
Robert bit his lip clean through; a bright copper tang hit his mouth but the pain helped him focus as he struggled against the lust and fear. Simon's eyes and lips spoke of mind-twisting pleasure, and he was already grinding down into the older boy's waist, undoing his pants.
The singer bucked and writhed, but it was no good; he was practically bolted to the floor under Simon's strong thighs.
The younger boy giggled and trailed little kisses down his neck and chest, keeping Robert trapped on the ground.
"Love me?" he asked softly, running his fingers along the older boy's sides.
Robert fought back a sob; he couldn't say anything and just turned his head away in shame. He could feel his cheeks burning as he arched his hips into Simon's. "P-please, just stop..."
It was of no use; Simon merely smiled at him, then lowered himself onto the older boy's arousal, impaling himself, and Robert choked. He thought he would go mad when the bassist began to move, to grind downward, to shiver and moan lightly. The younger boy was so tight and so hot.
Robert began to sob again as Simon leaned down for a bloody kiss.
It seemed slow and fast all at the same time; he couldn't seem to breathe or see - yet Simon was there, always there, in his eyes, panting harshly and blushing and heart pounding so hard against his. They shared this secret pleasure until the younger boy threw back his head and screamed; he tensed and Robert died inside as he followed into that horrifying, dark ecstasy.
They lay entwined on the floor together, panting and sticky with sweat. Dripping. The older boy now wanted only to die. Especially when the door opened and Mattieu came in.
He stopped dead when he spotted the naked boys on the floor.
"Well, well, well." his face twisted into a harsh, cruel smile. "Look at you, Robert."
The singer wished with every fiber of his being that the floor would open and swallow him whole.
And possibly Simon as well.
"Lol is going to be so dissapointed; it looks like I won our little bet."
"Bet?" Robert croaked. Simon had buried his face in Robert's neck and wasn't saying anything.
"Yeah, he and I were arguing about you and Simon and what must've happened earlier today in the bathroom. He was on your side, man! He was adament that you weren't - "
"A queer?" Robert sobbed.
"No." Mattieu shook his head slowly, turning to leave and closing the door behind him. He looked back one last time before it shut, his expression dark and unreadable.
"A slut."
Slut.
He couldn't get that word out of his head all night. He'd locked himself away in his room.
Slut.
Robert closed his eyes, unable to stop his tears as he beat his pillow and used it to muffle his screams and sobs.
Slut.
He wanted to kill himself, but there was nothing in the room to do it with, not even a dulled razor blade or a stupid little plastic knife. He'd foolishly tried to suffocate himself, but it only ended up hurting his nose and showing him how dumb it was to even try.
About to go out and find something to hang himself with, he was stopped in the hallway by Lol. The curly-haired musician was unimpressed.
"Pull yourself together, Robert, you look bloody awful." he wrinkled his nose, bracing a hand on the sniffling singer's shoulder to keep him steady. "Look, I told Matt to keep his bloody mouth to himself but he didn't; you're not a fucking slut, now stop moping around and go to bed, you look knackered." he then pushed past Robert and vanished into his own room.
The young man paused, blinking slightly, and then stumbled towards Simon's door. He wasn't a slut? Was he?
Bracing himself, he knocked sharply on the door; when he didn't hear a reply he banged on it.
"OPEN UP!" he roared, his anger and frustration and hurt and misery flowing through his actions. "SIMON JOHNATHAN GALLUP - OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
There were hurried footsteps and a clicking noise as the door was unlocked, then it opened and Robert found himself staring into Simon's tearful, terrified, wild eyes.
His rage shattered. "Simon?"
"I...I didn't want you to..." he quivered, lip trembling. "You're not a slut, I - I'm just..."
Robert steadied the younger boy's lip with his finger. "I know."
Simon bit lightly on the end of the finger, wide eyes and just holding it in place. As if he was afraid Robert would break and run. "I'm sorry."
Taking the shaggy-haired boy into his arms, Robert closed the door behind them and hugged Simon warmly. "I know..."
Simon rested his cheek on his friend's shoulder. "Don't hate me, please..."
"I couldn't, not ever." Robert admitted after a pause that seemed to last an eternity. "It's not your fault; it's mine."
"No!" Simon protested, holding Robert away slightly and looking up, blushing fiercely. "It's me. I need sex, Rob, it's like a drug. I wanted you so badly that I pushed you too far - got too greedy - and I'm sorry." he blinked back tears.
Robert sighed shakily and buried his face in the younger boy's hair, breathing in his scent deeply. Holding that lithe, warm body against his own made him feel needed, loved. Found.
"Simon." he murmured softly, and the younger boy merely sighed in response. He almost felt connected; he could feel Simon's heart beating.
This was the sort of intimacy he wanted, not some desperate, sweaty, loud, tangling of limbs. This was nice.
He found himself guiding Simon to the younger boy's bed; at first they sat, then they laid down...they curled up together, sharing warmth and a comfortable silence.
"Robert." Simon tucked his head under the older boy's chin, closing his eyes.
"Mmm?"
"You're very warm."
The older boy smiled as they drifted off to sleep together. In the morning, they'd go out and face the world; face Mattieu and Lol; try to keep their secrets safe. But for now, Robert was content just to be with Simon.
And to dream.
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