Simon, a.k.a. London Puss, stretched out on the large plush couch while the lighting crew set up for the next scene of the vid they were working on: London Puss Does America. He giggled a bit to himself and attacked a lollipop for a small sugar boost.
None of them have any idea, he thought to himself, grinning around his lolly, that I'm not just the best star they've seen in years.
Curling up to play with the end of his tail, he rolled it around his finger and wished he could use his own. However, that would've been a bit too much, even for them.
I wonder if London MewMew will be needed again tonight... he sat up, crunching the last bit of candy off the stick before tossing it away into a nearby bin.
To his relatives, he was just Simon. Everyone else knew him as his psudonym, London Puss, for the few films he'd made. They adored him, simply couldn't get enough of him. His liquid brown eyes, his soft shaggy brown hair, and his grin, which, when you looked at it, produced the most wonderful melting sensation.
Not one of them knows, and that just makes it more delicious.
"London? You ready?"
"Coming!" he allowed himself a small giggle and bounced up for the next shot.
**
It was long past dark by the time he got back home. His own little cat, Timmy, was waiting for him, mewling with hunger.
"A minute, a minute!" Simon fussed with the tin opener, and finally got it done.
"You should consider yourself lucky, Timmy, that you get to eat before I do!" the young man pouted, before sliding a small tray of lasagne in the oven. The last of his birthday dinner from going to his mum's a few weeks ago. His twentieth.
Timmy flicked his tail and continued to eat.
Curling up in the window, Simon ate his dinner and looked out at the city's bright lights. "Are you going out tonight, Timmy? I think I will." he added, stretching his fingers and watching his claws expand and contract. He smiled.
When he was finished eating, he put the few dishes in the sink and wandered into his bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water felt nice on his stretched muscles, and he found himself almost nodding off.
"Oh dear! Can't have that." he exclaimed aloud, leaping out and drying himself as he turned the tap off.
Simon slithered into his leathers, loosening up his hair so that it spilled over his eyes and hid his expression. Finally, he let his ears and tail ease up and through, admiring his form in the mirror.
"I just look so yummy, don't I, Timmy?"
The cat rolled over and mewled at him.
"Hmmf." Simon turned up his nose as he locked up the apartment and slunk out the window. "Wouldn't expect you to be so snobby..."
It was an almost boring night. In fact, he was ready to call it quits and head back for a nap when he spotted the young man being mobbed.
Pouncing on the biggest mugger, he quickly drove the group to disperse. However, the young victim caught his arm just as he was about to leave.
Simon squirmed and tried to get away, but the older boy held him still. "Who are you?"
Not what. Not what are you.
"S-S-Simon." he stammered out, before he could think about it.
"Simon?"
"NO! Ah - I mean - ah - let go of me! This isn't -"
"Then what's your name?"
Simon bared his teeth and hissed, drawing back. "Let me go."
The other boy shook his head. "You saved my life, they were going to kill me! I want to know who you are!"
"London." Simon said, wriggling away.
"No! Wait! Come back!"
Simon was already up on the rooftop. "If you can get up the wall, you can talk to me."
He turned and laid down to rest. Why not tease? No human could climb that sheer brick, and he was bored...
"Gotcha!"
Simon jumped about a foot in the air. "How did you - " he spluttered.
The boy pointed to the iron-wrought ladder. "You didn't see it?"
Simon threw a silent tantrum. The other boy stopped him, sitting them both down on the edge of the roof.
" 'London'?" The boy blinked.
"You might say I'm a vigilante."
"Like Batman and Robin?"
"Ugh." Simon wrinkled his nose. "Nothing like that camp show!"
"Is that real, then?" the boy pointed at his tail. Simon wrapped it round the boy's hand. "Yeah. Ears and teeth and claws too."
"Wild."
"I think I look nice." Simon sniffed.
"You do."
Simon paused. "Thanks." he finally said. "Um, what's your name?"
"Smith. Robert Smith. I'm in a band, I'm a singer...I just thought those guys wanted an autograph."
"Robert Smith..."
"The Cure. Formerly The Easy Cure."
"That rings a bell." Simon nodded. "I've seen a few poster up..."
"Yeah." Robert nodded. "Wow, I'm sitting here talking to a superhero..."
Simon blushed and squeaked, trying to scoff. "Oh, no - you've got it all wrong - me, super? Christ, no. I'm just doing my part."
"D'you have a sidekick, Batman?"
"Not unless you count my real kitten. Why? Are you volunteering, Robin?"
Robert laughed. "Not at the moment, no. But you should do something about..." he reached up and flipped Simon's bangs away from his eyes, giving Simon a startingly serious, deep look "...these."
Simon was sure that Robert could see his blush, even in the dark, so he jerked back and hid behind his hair. "Oh! S-stop that."
"You're cute." Robert grinned, scratching a little behind Simon's ears.
Simon almost melted right then and there. Purring deep in his chest, he snuggled up to Robert's side. "Ooooooh..."
The other boy laughed. "How old are you, London? I'm twenty-one..."
"Oh - oh - it's just Simon. I turned twenty a few weeks back..."
"You look younger than you are. I was gonna put you at fifteen or so..." Robert pointed out, pulling the dazed cat-boy into his lap for a kiss.
Simon thought about it for a moment or two, then gave in. Just because he was a porn star, didn't mean he was a slut.
But Robert's mouth tasted good; like warm honey and strong ale. "Mmm..."
When the older boy drew back finally, Simon sighed and licked his lips a little.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, but I need to go now.." Simon leapt up before Robert could catch him; he was over the roofs and gone.
As he stripped for bed, Simon brushed a finger over his lips.
He wondered what it might be like to have a sidekick.
And to maybe...
Maybe...
Simon giggled and batted his eyelashes at the young man playing the role of the 'horny lorry cab-driver' in the film. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, it looks like I'm completely out of money..." he pretended to go through the pockets of his obscenely short shorts.
"That's all right..." the young blond smiled and winked. Simon, personally, thought the young man's American accent was quite fetching. Plus he had a very nice body and he was quite the happy prankster off-camera. "I'm sure we can work something out..."
"Oh, I do hope so." Simon bit his lip, nibbling on a fingertip and pretending to be worried. "I don't know how I'm going to ever repay your kindness..."
They 'pulled over' to the side of the 'road' and the young man - Alex? - rested a soft, warm hand on Simon's arm. He stroked the dark boy's skin. "You're very pretty, London..."
"Why th-thank you!" Simon giggled, purring softly. Alex's hand slid down to Simon's thigh, slowly rubbing up and down, inwards and upwards. Out of the corner of his eye, Simon could see the camera zoom in.
"Oooh." Simon shivered delicately, smiling up at Alex. "I think I know what would make you happy..." The blond man smiled as Simon slowly undid his trousers.
"You naughty boy - you're not wearing anything under there!" he gasped, before placing a soft kiss to the tip of Alex's half-hard arousal. Watching the blond's expression, he slowly inched his lips around the head, sucking softly and daintily.
Alex had begun to shiver under Simon's lustful gaze and his ministrations. "Mmm, you like that?" Simon purred, sitting up and trailing his fingertips up and down Alex's cock.
"Yeah..." Alex grabbed Simon's hair, exactly where he should've to prevent any actual pain, and pulled him into a deep kiss, tongue hot in the dark boy's mouth. He moaned softly and re-adjusted how he sat, so that Alex - and the camera - had clear paths to his groin.
Simon slowly felt Alex stripping him; he leaned back and giggled, lifting his hips so that the blond could slide his shorts down and away. Nude, blushing, and aroused, Simon let himself really begin to enjoy Alex's touches. The blond had warm, strong hands, and it was nice to be held like that.
Suddenly his mind flashed back to his kiss with Robert, the night before. He almost jerked away, but kept his poise as Alex slowly slid a hand up his thigh to his waist.
"I want you." he murmured, eyes glimmering as the cameras panned in closer.
"Mmm, I'm all yours." Simon leaned up for another kiss as Alex lifted up his hips and slid home.
**
"You're incredibly flexible!" Alex raved after they were finished filming for the day, as they shared a bit of coffee on the couch.
Simon grinned. "Yeah, thanks. And I absolutely love your hands, they feel great."
"I played piano as a kid, would you believe? Made 'em really strong." he nodded.
"Too bad you have to go back to California after the shoot, I think you'd find a better audience here." Simon pointed out, drinking his coffee.
"Yeah, but...I have a lot of friends back home."
"Ooh, anyone special?" Simon winked and elbowed Alex's side. The blond blushed, laughed and edged out of the way. "Well...there's this one guy..."
"Alex has a boy-friend! Alex has a boy-friend!" Simon sang, grinning as the blond flushed deeper and tried to keep him quiet.
"Stop that!" he hissed, trying to hide his smile. "So, do you have anybody?"
Why do you keep thinking about Robert? "Sadly, I'm devoted only to my cat." Simon sighed wistfully, playing with his tail. "I don't know if I'm up for going steady. Not right now, anyway..."
"I'm going into the massage business later, I think. Look me up some day." Alex stood up.
"Good idea." Simon nodded, curling into the couch and drinking the last of his coffee.
**
But it was Robert who filled his thoughts all evening. He couldn't get those melancholy eyes out of his mind; those soft, warm lips...
Simon shook his head, trying to clear it, as he watched the traffic from his window. But he coudln't stay indoors. And so he prowled the city.
He secretly wished he could see the older boy again. He even waited on the same rooftop for over an hour.
But he didn't come.
Sadly, Simon slunk off towards his own apartment again. He couldn't understand why he felt so dissapointed.
"I can't look him up." he said aloud, as he walked along the edge of a building. "There's got to be a thousand Smiths in England..."
Then, he noticed the posters attatched to the pub across the street. The Cure.
His heart skipped a beat; he leapt over and planted himself on the rooftop, keeping his eyes and ears wide.
He didn't have to wait long: Robert came running out the back, chased by groupies of both genders.
Smirking to himself, Simon hid in the shadows, pulling Robert up onto the roof when he had the chance.
"Ah!" the older boy exclaimed, then calmed down again when he realized who'd just 'rescued' him.
"Simon!" he greeted the younger boy with a smile. "You were waiting for me!"
"Not true!" Simon found himself blushing uncontrollably. God! I'm acting like some silly virgin schoolgirl!
"Yes true!" Robert tickled Simon's side, resulting in the younger boy shrieking with giggles. "Don't deny it!"
"Ooh, please, stop!" Simon squeaked, laughing and shoving himself away. They tumbled to the rooftop, Robert over Simon.
Their laughter faltered and they both went quiet.
Simon felt odd; he rested a hand on Robert's cheek gently and brushed his thumb over the older boy's lips.
The singer looked away, shifting, but not getting up. "I..."
Simon pulled Robert so that they were lying side-by-side on the rooftop. Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Robert finally rolled onto his back, resting his head on his arms.
"So...what's it like...making music?" Simon finally murmured, moving closer.
Robert hesitated, then wrapped an arm around the younger boy, pulling him in close. "It's incredible. It's like I've got this amazing power..."
Simon closed his eyes and listened to Robert's heartbeat. It was soothing. He realized - he wanted the older boy, and that was a dangerous thing. Robert seemed so pure. Simon didn't want to taint him.
"While I'm up on stage, it's like being high." he finished.
"Oh...oh, wow..." Simon exclaimed. "Never thought about it before..."
Robert smiled and Simon wanted to melt. "Well, it's true."
Biting his lip, Simon sat up again. Robert followed suit, confused and obviously hurt. "Simon?"
"I..."
Robert kissed him again, and this time Simon really did melt. He made a little noise in the back of his throat, curling into Robert's lap and wrapping his arms around the older boy's neck. He finally broke away, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with want. "Robert...Robert, I..."
"Shh." the singer smiled, kissing Simon's bangs. "Go home. I'm playing here again tomorrow night. Why don't you come and see for yourself?"
"I - I will!" Simon promised, trying to hide his arousal. Finally, he just turned tail and fled, terrified that he might've been able to fall in love after all.
They had almost eight more scenes that day, and Simon was thoroughly exhausted by that time. He had just barely managed to crawl home and eat leftovers for dinner, when he remembered the concert.
Dragging himself down to the venue, he was stopped at the door by a very large, very intimidating man.
"Where's your ticket?"
"My - my what? Oh dear - um - yes, my ticket..."
"You're not getting in without a ticket."
"Oh - "
"Simon! There you are." Robert's voice and an arm around his shoulders. The older boy shared a conspirital grin and thrust a front-row ticket into Simon's hands. "He's with the band, man, go on in, Simon."
The younger boy blinked and let Robert half-walk, half-drag him into the nicely-sized hall down to the front. He found himself in the center seat, almost directly in front of where the main microphone was.
"Oh, wow. I don't - I can't - " Simon stuttered, feeling helpless and foolish. "Oh..."
"Don't worry." Robert grinned, pushing Simon into his seat. "I'll see you after the show." and then he vanished.
As Simon settled into his seat, the lights dimmed and the good-sized audience began to get excited. In fact, the yelling started before Robert and the others climbed on-stage.
When they began to play, Simon felt lost. Their music was like nothing he'd heard before; nothing came close to this. Each song was different and better than the last. And at the very end, even with most of his engergy utterly spent, he was on his feet and demanding encore after encore with the rest of the audience.
Finally, it was over. The crowd thinned; Simon remained in his seat. A technician came out to pack away the speakers and spotted him.
"Oy! You Simon?"
"Um...yes?"
"Smith wants to see you." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards the dressing rooms. "Backstage."
Simon somehow found the strength to get up and climb on stage, stumbling behind the curtains. He kept one hand on the wall as he walked towards the sound of happy, excited laughter and bottles being opened.
The door wasn't locked; it swung open when he landed on it and he ended up falling into Robert's arms.
"Simon! I want you to meet - " someone thrust a bottle into his hands; he took a drink and shook his head to clear it.
"And this is Lawrence, he plays drums you saw, but we call him Lol..."
"H'lo, Lol..."
"Say 'hi', Michael; this is Simon, you know, the one who saved me from those theives..."
"Hi, Simon."
There was noise and light; the room was spinning and the alcohol didn't help matters.
"Say; I wonder if he can play?" the bass was thrust into his hands. Simon plucked a few notes dizzily, then his knees gave out and Robert caught him before he fell; Michael dove to save his instrument.
"Right, I think you should go home...come on..."
Simon felt the older boy's arms wrap around his waist. "Uh...?"
"We'll catch a cab; where do you live?"
Simon gave his address without thinking; he was curled up and asleep in Robert's arms. Vaguely he found himself unlocking his apartment and then the bed; he was gone.
**
What was the number of the lorry that hit me?
He opened his eyes, still sleepy but all his tiredness had gone. Simon was startled to find Robert asleep in his armchair; Timmy was curled in the older boy's lap.
"Robert?"
He jerked awake; Timmy hissed softly in surprise and shot into the bedroom. "Simon! Good to see you up and about; I was getting worried."
The younger boy blinked. "You were worried...about me?"
"Well, yeah, you kept collapsing and - "
"Me, though?"
"Yeah, you." Robert looked puzzled as he stood up and stretched. "We're friends, aren't we?" he looped his arms around Simon's waist.
"I..."
The older boy shrugged sadly, then turned and headed for the door. "I guess I'll be off, then..."
"Oh, wait! Wait!" Simon took his arm. "Um...don't go...I'll make some breakfast..."
"Coffee would be nice." Robert's face broke into a relieved smile; Simon suspected that the older boy had been dying for an excuse - any excuse - to stay.
"Toast?"
"Oh, sure."
He put some bread into the toaster, then came back out to sit in the living room with Robert. "Um..."
"So what did you think of the concert last night?" Robert blurted out.
"Oh - I loved it!" Simon grinned. "You were brilliant!"
"Thanks." the older boy nodded, flushing pleasantly, grinning.
Simon went on: "I mean, it was like we weren't even there...it was just you and your music...like it was your lover and you were making love..."
Robert's eyes immediately dropped to the floor; he flushed deeply and blinked. Simon frowned. "Robert?"
"I...I mean, I do have a girlfriend..."
"And?" And why do I suddenly feel sick?
"Just...sort of makes me uncomfortable..."
"Talking about sex? Come on! You're twenty-one, right? Surely you're not a virgin!"
Robert just looked at him.
"You are? You are!" Simon couldn't believe it; he jerked away.
"Yes." Robert played with the edges of his shirt.
The breakfast was ready; Simon returned with it on a tray. "Good Catholic boy saving yourself for marriage?"
"Yeah." Robert was by now a deep, humiliated crimson.
"Sorry." The younger boy drank his coffee, curling up to Robert's side on the couch.
"So...I mean, are you..."
"Me? A virgin? Christ, no, I'm a porn star!" Oh shit. Ohhhh shit.
Robert flinched; coffee mug falling empty to the floor. "God!"
"Uh..."
The older boy had his face buried in his hands.
"Sorry?" Simon, for the first time, felt odd about his profession of choice. "It's true, though..."
"I...no...I suppose it's all right. There's...there's nothing wrong with it." Robert was on his feet, hand on the doorknob. Simon caught him, clung to him, terrified.
"Please...don't go...um...you can try and save my soul, or something..."
The singer gave a shaky sigh, then smiled and twined his fingers with the younger boy's. "Maybe...I don't want to be saved."
Simon grinned. "At least if you fall, you've got someone soft to land on."
Robert laughed, and kissed him.
Simon could hardly concentrate on the scene he was in. Luckily it was a fairly tame shoot today; a bunch of middle-parts without intercourse. He couldn't keep his mind away from Robert. They had stayed up all the previous day and night, talking non-stop about anything and everything. The older boy was incredibly driven, and so creative. Simon was immensely attracted to him, and Robert seemed to feel the same way; he kept touching the younger boy when he talked. Just a brush of the knee, or a hand on his arm, but something. The contact would make his head buzz pleasantly.
"Are you all right?"
Simon jumped, nearly toppling off the couch. "Sorry...I was just distracted."
"I asked you if you needed a ride." the young woman said, popping her gum and putting the lights back into their cases.
"Oh...ah...um, okay, sure." he nodded, getting up and slinging his small bag over his shoulder.
"C'mon then." she loaded the lights into the back of the truck, then let him in the passanger door. "I have to go shoot at another location this evening."
"I don't recall seeing you on the set before..."
"Elizabeth." she cracked her gum again, taking a side street. "I'm filling in for my brother. He's sick. I normally just work at one of the softcore studios."
"Ah." He nodded.
"But seriously, are you all right? You really seem out of your head."
"I..." he looked at his knees. "I think I'm in love."
"Christ." she raised an eyebrow as they turned onto his street. "Who?"
"He's - he's perfect, but...well...he's...he's never had...he's never been with a boy before."
"If he loves you back? Go for it. Don't push it, but show him." she shrugged. "Oh, we're here."
Simon thanked her for the ride, then let himself into his apartment. There was a note on his door. Timmy was pacing round his feet as he read it.
Simon. Show tonight. Meet after for drinks?
The note went on to give directions to the pub. It was unsigned, but Robert's scrawl was clear. Setting it down on the kitchen table, he went to make dinner.
**
Simon slid the drink back and forth across the bar, watching the condensation trace random patterns on the side of the bottle. Robert was late, very late, and Simon was terrified that this was all turning out to be one colossal joke.
Suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered his eyes. "Guess who, Batman!"
"Robin!" Simon laughed, jumping up to hug Robert briefly but firmly. "I was starting to doubt you were coming..."
"We ran late." Robert's face was flushed with excitement. "It was fantastic!"
Simon laughed, pulling a chair for Robert to sit. He'd barely finished his drink when a veritable mob of fans showed up.
"Let's get out of here!" Simon leapt upand fled with Robert into the street.
"Hold on." Simon ordered. When he felt the older boy's arms locok around his middle, he let his claws out, scrambling up the wall and onto the roof. They remained there for a few moments, laughing and catching their breaths.
"Well, that wasn't very effective, can we go to your place and drink there?"
"Sure..." Simon helped Robert up, then they descreetly made their way back to the younger boy's apartment. Once inside, he brought out a few bottles, and they settled on the couch.
"A toast." he proposed.
"To music?"
"To music." Simon smiled and raised his bottle.
They chatted as they drank, both high off Robert's mood after the concert. Before long, Simon had his head in Robert's lap as the older boy was stroking his hair softly, scratching behind his ear.
"You know how fucking gorgeous you look, right?" Robert blurted out.
Simon grinned and posed. "I break hearts." he slid a hand from his thigh to his groin. The older boy suddenly went quiet, and Simon, terrified he'd said something wrong, sat up and hugged him tightly. "Are you all right?" he asked, eyes wide and stomach churning with worry.
"Simon...I..." Robert was flushed, looking away and down.
"Robert? What's wrong? Robin?" he tested the sweet nickname.
The older boy bit his lip and shifted his hips a little. Simon realized and reached down, stroking Robert's arousal through his trousers. "Nothing wrong with this, luv..." Simon smiled kindly, turning Robert's head to face him. The older boy swallowed.
"What would you say...if I told you...if I said...that I wanted you?"
"Robert! You're a - you shouln't - not - your first time - it shouldn't be with - with someone like m-me..." Simon cringed, feeling terrible.
"Simon..."
"And don't you have a girlfriend? You should save that for her -"
"Do you love me or not?" Robert whispered abruptly.
Simon stopped dead. "Yes."
Robert kissed him warmly on the lips. "You're going to have to show me how this works." he smiled shyly, stroking the younger boy's soft cheek.
Simon nuzzled into the touch. "If you really want this..."
"I do."
It felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "A-all right. If I'm going too f-fast, or if something f-feels wrong, please, l-let me know." Simon was frustrated; why couldn't he stop stuttering?
He started with a few slow, languid kisses. Robert returned them eagerly, hungrily. Simon began to kiss down Robert's throat, soft kisses as he undid the older boy's shirt buttons.
Pressing a kiss to his collarbone, simon stood up and led Robert into the bedroom. There, he stripped them both down before gently pulling the older boy down onto the bed. He resumed kissing down Robert's chest, stopping only to bite lightly on the older boy's nipples until he was writhing in exquisite agony.
He was hard when Simon reached his arousal, so hard; the younger boy smiled as he gently teased the dripping head with his skilled mouth.
"Jesus..." Robert was moaning up at the pillows when Simon pulled away. He took a steadying breath.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yes..."
Simon slid over and retrieved a small tub of lubricant from his drawer. The good thing about the industry was he got to keep leftovers. It was, however, more for Robert's sake than his own; he was used to all sorts of roughness.
The older boy's eyes widened. "You mean..."
Simon nodded, and Robert watched with wide eyes as the younger boy greased up his fingers. Simon slid them into his own body, stretching himself and biting his lip, watching Robert's expression. Finally, he drew out, sliding his goopy hand over Robert's arousal. He wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck.
"I love you." he whispered.
The older boy smiled, then awkwardly lifted Simon's legs, fumbling and slipping a bit. He re-adjusted his knees, fiddling for a few moments, then flushing brightly and lowering the younger man to the bed. "Um...I don't..."
"I'm not made of glass." Simon sat up, kissing Robert's lips warmly. He turned them around, sitting on the older boy's lap and impaling himself on Robert's arousal. "Ahhh..."
Simon groaned deep in his throat as Robert slowly, tentatively began to rock his hips upward. It felt like his first time again, but this was so gentle and loving. He couldn't stop touching Robert, hands all over his body, lips kissing every inch he could reach.
Robert pushed him down and began to thrust harder and faster, more desperately, as they writhed with hunger and lust and need. They came hard, almost together, and Robert dropped onto Simon's front.
The younger boy shivered and clung to the older boy's warm, trembling body. "It's okay...it's okay..." he was purring deep in his chest, and he pulled Robert even closer, as close as he could get. He curled into the sheets, and drifted off to sleep.
Three days had passed since he last saw Robert. He had a phone number now, but was almost afraid to call. Two days after, Simon recieved his next paycheque and deposited it. He bought himself lunch in a small restaurant, musing about his feelings - both for Robert, and for his situation. He liked working in the industry; the pay was good, the work was fun, and it left him lots of spare time.
"Maybe I should write a book..."
"'Get Rich'." said a familiar voice, with a soft smile as he sat down opposite Simon.
"Robin!"
"Hi!" he chuckled. "Sorry I haven't met up in a while. I didn't want you to think I was avoiding you."
"I'm so glad!" Simon grinned, sliding around in the booth to give his friend a warm hug. "To see you, I mean."
Laughter. "I know. We're wrapping up our gig tonight, last concert for a while. If you want, you could come and see."
"Really? I'd love to watch you play again."
"I'm told it's a sold-out show, but I'll get you a seat - even if I have to hang you from the rafters!"
Simon gasped. "Oh now, really!"
Robert handed him a slip of paper. "Joking. But keep this."
"What is it?"
"Backstage pass, of sorts." he winked. "Got the address on the back. Nine. I'll see you." and with one soft kiss to Simon's cheek, he was gone.
Simon touched himself where Robert had kissed. It felt warm and he blushed. "Oh..." it seemed that his feelings for the older boy were rapidly getting out of control. He couldn't stop blushing every time he thought of Robert and -
Simon crossed his legs.
*****
During the afternoon, Simon took a nap, and then had a nice, long, cold shower. He found it difficult to contain his excitement. Another concert. Another night with Robert. It seemed almost too good to be true.
The show was magnificent. Simon watched in awe as Robert made his guitar scream, cry, and sing right along with him. It was an incredible sight. He was full of energy, and by the time the two of them left, it was clear how much he loved the whole thing.
They were still buzzing when they reached Simon's apartment, and they couldn't sit still - and they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Robert's fingers kept stroking, roaming all over Simon's bare arms as they talked. Simon kept touching the older boy's face, as if making sure that he was still there, still real.
They finally decided to go and jump on the bed to get rid of some of their giddiness, but after a few falls, they wound up tangled in a deep, hungry kiss. Just as Simon was reaching up to undo Robert's trousers, the older boy froze solid. He stared down at the younger boy beneath him as if he'd never seen him before. "Simon...I..."
"What?" Simon asked worriedly, lip trembling in terror that he'd done something wrong.
"I...um...I...I can't do this." Robert shook his head.
"Wh-Why not?" Simon demanded, hurt.
"I - I just can't!" Robert stood up, shaking. "I'll see you later!" and with that, he was gone.
*****
Simon spent the night waking up every few hours in tears. He was having disturbing visions and Timmy mewling didn't help. Eventually the young man just made some coffee and decided to stay awake.
When he arrived at the studio the next morning, he was feeling drained but didn't want to skip a day. To his shock, he found someone else sitting in his chair.
"Who are you?" Simon demanded, in no mood for practical jokers.
"Mmm? Oh, hi, you must be Simon. I'm Severin, but you can call me Steve." he smiled brightly and extended his hand. "I'm your new co-star!"
Simon flinched and didn't take the proferred limb. "That is my chair." he said dully.
Severin's smile faltered and he lowered his hand to his side. "Is it then."
"And you can call me London, please." Simon said quietly. He didn't like the blond's nasty expression.
"All right, Puss." Severin said in a quiet, clipped voice. "I'll see you on the set." he strode off.
It seemed as though everywhere he turned that day, Severin was there. His new co-star was a very, very good lover, which didn't help matters. Simon felt nervous and ill every time the blond topped him. He wore a smile that showed all his teeth, and his eyes seemed to burn into Simon's head.
By the end of the day, Simon decided he was downright scared of Severin. But more than that, he was angry. Angry because the director and cameras were clearly favouring the blond, it was clear - and Simon didn't want to be replaced.
When he got home, there was a message for him from Robert, asking him to meet up at a pub for dinner. Simon, tired and hungry, arrived just in time to see Robert - and his new co-star, Severin - lose themselves in a tonsil-diving kiss.
Simon closed his eyes and let out a scream of frustration that shattered the glasses of nearby patrons.
Robert jerked away - or rather, he tried to, since Severin was still attatched and was trying to eat his face. "Simon!"
"Ohhhh, is it you?" Severin swiveled in Robert's lap, reclining on the dark-haired boy to smirk haughtily at Simon, who was literally shaking with anger. "I would never have guessed you'd show up..."
"You little bitch! First you ruin my career and now you try to steal my man?!" Simon screeched, stomping across the pub to the stares of nervous onlookers. "I'll kill you!"
"Ah ah ah, no you won't." Severin gracefully lifted his foot and blocked Simon's path. The dark-haired boy glared at the blond, seething with barely-controlled rage. "Don't even try, kiddo."
Robert swallowed hard, red as brick and clearly wanting nothing more than to vanish off the face of the earth. "Simon...please..." he tugged gently on Severin's shirt-sleeve, and the blond melted back into his lap. "It's not what - it's not what you think."
"It's not?!" Simon snarled, desperately trying to control his rage from exploding in a public place. "You!" he pointed an accusitory finger at Severin. "Explain!"
"Perhaps if we all went back to my place." Severin purred, standing up and helping Robert to his feet, tickling mockingly under Simon's chin. "Less public. You can let your claws out there, pretty kitty..."
Simon grit his teeth but he had no choice; he dumbly followed the pair of them until they were inside a large, lavish apartment. Once Severin had locked up behind them, Simon had his hands around the older blond's throat. "You have five seconds before I break your neck. Explain."
"Simon!" Robert pulled Simon back and away. Severin straightened up, smirking at Simon cruelly before leading them into the living room.
"Robert is...an old friend of mine." Severin took off his boots and jacket, stretching out over the couch while Robert kept a tight grip on Simon. "We met up again completely by accident."
"Accident my -"
"Simon! Please!" Robert begged, holding Simon close and rubbing his back. Simon melted with a sigh, dropping into Robert's lap and watching Severin dully. The blond was still grinning with all his teeth, but Simon was helpless under the musician's touches.
"You were kissing him."
"I'm very...affectionate." Severin bit a fingertip, leering. "You should know that by now, Simon."
"I told you to call me London!"
"Hang on a minute." Robert frowned. "You two are working together?"
"He's trying to steal away my career!" Simon pouted, rolling onto his back so that Robert would rub his tummy. "And you! I thought you loved me!"
"I do." Robert said, rather helplessly. Severin slunk across the room and joined them on the couch, stroking Simon's lower belly.
Simon hissed and swatted, but melted under the blond's warm, strong hands. "Ohhh...please, please stop...don't..."
"But it feels nice, doesn't it?" Severin purred, kissing Robert's throat and leaning down to press his body against Simon's. "I feel nice..."
Against his will Simon felt his body react. It knew too well what Severin could do to it, and it ached for more. "No! Stop!"
Robert was trapped with them, staring at Simon's face as he blushed. The younger boy wished he wouldn't watch; it was humiliating. "Robin! Make him stop!"
"Oooh, a pet name? Robin. Tweet tweet tweet. Pretty little songbird, that's our Robert." Severin smiled gently, sitting up and pulling Robert into a deep kiss.
Simon sobbed softly, sitting up and trying to separate them, but to no avail. He couldn't stop Severin and he couldn't claim Robert. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Robin..." Severin was purring, undoing the buttons of Robert's shirt, "Why don't we move this to the bedroom...you could, you know, have the both of us..."
"B-Both?" Robert stammered nervously, still staring at Simon, who shook his head frantically, tears burning in his eyes. "A-all right..."
Simon found himself dragged onto the bed, and was naked before he could stop anything. "No!" he pleaded desperately, but it was too late. Severin was on top of him, crushing him to the bed with a kiss which broke Simon's lip. He could taste blood in his mouth when Severin lifted his hips and thrust into his body.
Through the dizzy haze of sweet pain and awful pleasure, Simon could see Robert move behind Severin. He guessed only at the last second before he felt another shove, and let out a cry of anguish. Severin's face contorted in ghastly pleasure above him; Robert had taken him from behind as he was buried to the hilt inside of Simon.
"No...no, please..." Simon whimpered, begging, as the combined feelings and thrusts pushed him over the edge. Severin followed and lay kissing Simon until Robert finally finished, coming with a shudder and collapsing next to them.
Simon pushed Severin away weakly and clung to Robert, who wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy, kissing his brow. "Shhh. Shhh. I love you..."
"Mmm-hmm." Simon heard the blond say from behind him, as he felt those smirking lips press to his shoulder. "I love you too..."
Simon’s eyes fluttered for a moment, and then opened to see a pair of glinting eyes and a shock of white-blond hair.
"Good morning." Severin smiled warmly, stroking the younger man’s cheek. "My little Sleeping Beauty."
Simon stared. "You..." he turned his head, shivering slightly when he noticed the empty bed. "Where's Robert?"
"Gone home. A few hours ago. You've slept clear through the morning, it's nearly noon."
"Noon! We have a shoot at three!'
"I know." Severin merely smiled and snuggled a bit closer under the blankets. "I'll drive us."
Simon shifted uncomfortably. "Um...thanks, I guess..." This was not normal. Men who stole other men's boyfriends did not just suddenly decide to be nice. Severin was up to something. But it was best to play along. "Did you, um, did you sleep all right?"
"Yes I did." Severin seemed pleased with the younger man's actions, and rubbed his shoulder gently. "Did you?"
"Evidently." Simon glanced at the clock on the wall. Severin hadn't been lying; it read about quarter to twelve. "Wow."
"Don't cats sleep fourteen hours a day, or something like that?"
Simon gave the other man a withering look. "I'm not a cat, Severin."
The blond tugged gently on his tail. "This tells me you're lying."
Simon curled the tail around the older man's arm. "It's just some weird birth defect. I'm not really a cat. I just look like one."
Severin stroked it calmly. Simon refused to purr. "It suits you."
"Oh really?" Simon's eyebrows vanished into his hair.
"Cats are so deliciously sexy in everything they do." Severin pointed out, pressing himself right up against Simon, chest to chest. He was very warm. "So very attractive."
"Cats also don't like being confined like this." Simon squirmed, biting his lip, pressing backwards. He was being squeezed between Severin and the wall.
"Puss feeling nervous?" Severin whispered, running long fingers through Simon's hair, keeping him still. "Poor little kitty..."
"P-please...stop it..." Simon whimpered. No. I am not going to cry...I am not going to cry!
"Such a pretty little thing..." Severin smiled coyly, pressing his lips to Simon's forehead. Simon, eyes shut tightly, pressed his face into Severin's chest. What choice did he have?
"Be nice to me..."
"Oh, but I want to. Just let me..." Severin chuckled, stroking along Simon's back tenderly, soothing the worry on the younger man's brow with kisses. "You'll see..."
Simon's throat hurt; he let out a tiny little sob which he was sure that Severin heard. The blond's hands felt unbelievably good; his lips seemed like they were made for kissing him.
He was already hard, and it wasn't just morning arousal. Simon tried to tell himself that he didn't want this, that he wanted Robert and no-one else. His body ignored him pointedly.
No. "Severin..." he tried to say something in his defense, to push the older man away, but found himself locked in an embrace. A hand was rubbing between his thighs, slow and seductive. He clenched his hands into fists and felt the skin give way under his claws. Biting back another cry, he tilted his head back under the onslaught of kisses which Severin was pressing down his neck towards his chest.
Severin rolled the docile Simon onto his back, pushing back the blankets so they were naked to the air. He knelt between Simon's thighs, spreading them wide and used his lips to find every twitching muscle in the younger man's chest.
Simon couldn't believe it. The blond was so skilled; he was finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it. Soon he couldn't help but moan and mewl for more, bloody hands twisting and tearing up the bed sheets.
"Oh, Severin..." he gasped, biting his lip and arching as the older man nipped at a spot just below his hipbone. He jerked in response, crying out when Severin finally laid a hand on his arousal.
"You like that, mmm? I'll have to remember that." And with that, Severin was gone, sitting up, grabbing a bathrobe and tossing one in Simon's direction. "We have an action shoot in three hours, we can't be coming too soon!"
Simon didn't know whether to be furious or relieved, but he sat up and shimmied into the robe, trying to calm his raging hard-on.
"I'm going to make some lunch. Would you like some?"
"Sure." Simon called, and headed in the direction of what he hoped was a cold shower.
*****
Simon sat in the passenger seat of Severin's car, moody and miserable. A good lunch and some hot tea did nothing for his disposition, and the blond was still touching him every so often.
"Would you cut that out? I thought you said we weren't playing 'till we got to the studio."
"I said I wouldn't let you come." Severin pointed out, tickling Simon's thigh.
"Yahhh! Quit it!" Simon jerked away, swishing his tail and frowning. He curled up against the window and stared out at the pavement as they pulled into the lot.
Severin frowned as they got out. "Hey."
Simon let out a soft hiss and wrapped his tail around Severin's neck, squeezing just past the point of erotic and bordering on life-threatening. "Pay attention. This is my film and my life and by god you will not mess this up!"
The blond's eyes bulged for a second before he choked out his response. "OK!"
They walked into the studio, Severin rubbing his throat. Once on the set, Simon proceeded to take as much control as his role would allow him, casting dark glances at Severin whenever the camera wasn't focused on their faces.
By the end of the evening, Simon was thoroughly satisfied - at least, physically. His mind was still in turmoil over the events of the past day.
"Want to get a few drinks?" Severin was asking. Simon shrugged, leaning against him, tail tightening to the threshold of pain around the blond's wrist.
"All right."
Wincing, the older man nervously led them to his car and drove it to the pub. They sat down at a table, not at the bar, and Simon ordered a small sandwich to try and get some of his energy back. He kept his tail wrapped like a cilice around whatever bit of Severin he could reach.
"Must you?" Severin was wincing whenever he moved, and Simon merely glanced at him.
"I'm not your toy."
The blond scowled and took another drink. It wasn't long before they were both nicely drunk, and Simon slowly released Severin's leg.
"But I don't eat birds, or mice." Simon wrinkled his nose. "So I can't be a real cat."
"You have a tail." Severin pointed out, picking it up. Simon coiled it gently around the blond's arm. "And the ears. And the claws. I'd say you're a cat."
"I don't lick myself or cough up hairballs."
"Cats can lick themselves..." Severin paused, then grinned. "Say, Simon, can you..."
"Can I what?" Simon didn't really care that Severin was being so casual. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth bottles, he'd lost his animosity for the blond. "You mean, can I suck myself?"
"Yeah." Severin's grin widened, and he nudged Simon's shoulder. "Go on! Try it!"
"Not in public..." Simon frowned, trying to discern whether anyone was watching.
"Long tablecloth." Severin pulled the younger boy under the table and they sat there for a moment before Simon blinked, unzipped his trousers, and leaned over. Way over.
"Good lord!"
Simon's response was a muffled noise of surprise.
"You can actually do it!"
A muffled noise of accomplishment, followed by soft moans of pleasure.
"Hey, don't - that's not fair!" Severin pouted, tugging gently on Simon's tail. "I only get to watch?"
Simon giggled, grinning, then pushed Severin back into the table leg and kissed him. "Mmm, yeah, you just watch!" he curled up and closed his eyes as he pleasured himself.
"That is not fair..." Severin let out a small whining, exasperated noise.
Simon looked up, feeling slightly sorry for the blond. "All right...c'mere..." he pulled Severin in close for a hug, then undid his trousers. "Your turn!"
"Ahhh...yesss..." the older man hissed softly and let out a groan as Simon diligently sucked his cock. "Simon..."
Simon smiled up at him through hazy eyes, finally getting the feeling that Severin wasn't so bad after all. Maybe it was all in his head. He wasn't trying to take Robert away, he loved him too, maybe he just wanted to share...
The blond smiled lovingly down at Simon, stroking his hair and sighing with pleasure. "You are so gorgeous..."
Simon sniffled softly. He hadn't felt so loved in years. Not even with Robert..."S'anks." he managed, redoubling his efforts.
It didn't take long. Severin let out a muffled gasp and groan as he came; Simon swallowed it expertly and then helped them back onto their bench at the table, nuzzling and cuddling into the blond's side.
"Mmm, do you love me?" Severin asked, laying his head on Simon’s shoulder and batting his eyes up at the younger man.
Simon didn't hesitate; he threw his arms around Severin. The older man gave him a kiss that, under normal circumstances, would've turned the younger boy's knees to water. As it was, he collapsed into Severin's warm, welcoming body.
"Oh, Steven, I love you." Simon said when he pulled back, feeling as though his heart would just burst.
"S-Simon?!"
It was Robert.
Simon just about died. "R-Robin!"
Severin swept Simon to his side and joyfully hoisted his bottle. "Come'n'sit with us! Have a drink!"
Simon trembled, a cold ache settling in his stomach. "Robin...I...I...
Robert just sort-of looked at him blankly, like a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler. Then he sat down beside Severin and grabbed the nearest beer, chugging the whole thing in one breath.
"Slow down! You'll choke!" Severin blinked drunkenly, concerned.
"No I won't." Robert blinked, shrugging and putting the empty bottle down rather clumsily. He was still staring stupidly at Simon, as if he'd never seen him before.
"R-Robin?" Simon said for the third time. "A-are you all right?"
"Do I know you?" he said coldly, and then opened another bottle.
Simon's breath caught in his throat and a wave of nausea hit him as Robert's next words hit his ears; "Cos I thought I did; maybe it was someone else who just looked like you. Cos I don't know you."
Simon let out a sob and collapsed; Severin caught him just before he slipped off the bench onto the floor. "Whoa! Take it easy!"
Simon couldn't see; he wanted to die. His job didn't matter, his life didn't matter; there was nothing for him if Robert didn't love him.
Robert leaned on an elbow and watched Severin worriedly tend to Simon. "You should take him home. Looks like he's had a bit too much tonight."
"Yeah - yeah, I probably should..." Severin said with concern, biting his lip as he clung to Simon and hurried out of the pub towards his car.
Simon didn't make it. He passed out just outside the doors.
Strike the set, we're finished here.
It was three days ago that the filming had finished, over a week since the meeting in the bar, and still, Severin could not coax Simon out of his stupor. He'd thankfully been fully functional, even coquettish, on-set, but once they walked off of it, Simon became a zombie. The older blond was growing more and more concerned; Robert hadn't contacted either of them since the incident, and Simon wasn't showing any signs of life other than a pulse.
"Come on." he said, the next morning, a Wednesday. "You can't just lie there for the rest of your life." He poked Simon's shoulder. The younger man was lying sprawled over Severin's couch, limp, staring at the ceiling. "You've got to get out sometime."
"Don't wanna."
Severin delicately placed his fingers on both of his temples, and rubbed gently. "Right; that's it. Get up, we're going for a walk."
"Don't wanna."
"You don't have a choice." Severin hauled Simon up by his arm and marched him out the door. Simon staggered for a bit, then walked on his own, clinging to the blond's arm like a little lost child.
"Simon, we need to talk."
"Don't wanna." the same mumble.
"We're going to see Robert."
Simon immediately stopped dead and tugged in the opposite direction.
"You don't want to see him?"
"Hates me."
"You stupid little - argh." Severin resisted the urge to bang his head against a nearby wall and literally yanked Simon to get him moving again. "But we need a plan. No doubt he's being just as bad as you."
Simon let out a little whimpering protest, then went along. "Sorry..."
"Don't apologize." Severin snapped, and then sighed. "Simon, please. Just be quiet. Let me think."
Simon kicked a pebble as they walked, hand still holding tightly to Severin's, fingers twined for protection. He felt safe. But he didn't know about Robert. He wanted to see him, oh yes, needed to, but did Robert want to see him? Didn't Robert hate him? His lip began to tremble.
"Oh don't cry..." Severin scooped him up in his arms, kissing his cheek softly and seating them on a low wall. "Look, I've got a plan. You're going to go over to Robert's place, and you can cry there, okay? You get in there, and you sit him down, and you two can have a big happy cry-fest and get it all out, all right?" Severin was nodding and squeezing Simon's shoulder.
The younger boy blinked, and then slowly nodded. "I'll...try."
"Good."
He stood on Robert's doorstep Thursday evening, feeling extremely foolish, and knocked again. The lights weren't on, this was the third time he'd knocked, and he was beginning to think there was no one home.
"Robert? Are you there?" he called softly, hands twisting around each other in an effort to stay calm.
"Simon?" Robert was behind him, coming up the steps, key in his hand. Simon toppled and nearly fell off, but the older boy caught him just in time. "What are you doing here?"
"S-Severin said I should t-talk to you."
"Oh he did." Robert's expression melted from pleasantly surprised to skeptical, eyebrows raised. "Well, come in." he brushed past Simon, opening the door. The younger boy hurried after him. He settled himself on a small couch in the living room, tail swishing nervously.
"Would you put that thing away? You're going to knock something over." Robert said in a grumpy tone as he sat down next to Simon.
"Sorry." Simon said in a very small voice, holding his tail still with his hands. He twisted it around his hands until it was nearly painful. "I wouldn't mean to."
"I know." a sigh. "Simon, why are you here?"
"M'sorry..."
"No, why are you here?"
Simon blinked, then took the older boy's hands. "Robin, I love you."
There was dead silence. Simon was half-convinced that the world had stopped.
"Simon...I think we really need to talk."
It took them four pots of tea and a bottle of brandy to get through it all. By that time, it was a little before two in the morning on Friday, and they were both soaked from crying. Simon had his head on Robert's shoulder and they were cuddling on the floor, leaning with their backs against the couch.
"Ohhh, Simon..." Robert sighed shakily, running his fingers through the younger boy's hair tenderly. "God, I missed you so much..."
"Missed you too..." Simon said for the fifth time that hour. "Don't ever wanna let you go, ever again..."
"Promise?" he pulled Simon into his lap and nuzzled his neck.
"Mmmmyes, promise."
That Saturday the three of them went to the pub and stayed there until they were kicked out for closing. It was nearly dawn.
"I'm not finished yet!" Simon said crossly, stumbling and grabbing onto Robert's shoulder for support.
"Where should we go now?"
"Home. Bed?" Robert suggested, turning to Severin for confirmation. The blond grinned excitedly, and they all wobbled their way back to his apartment and collapsed through the doorway. In a pile, they managed to get through the house into the bedroom, where Simon and Robert fell asleep immediately.
Severin watched them sleep, then stood up and stretched, wriggling his fingers, and then smiled coldly.
"The fools."
Sunday was such a beautiful night.
"Severin..."
"Mmm, yes, Robin?"
You can't call him that. That's my name for him.
"I love you..."
"I know you do, Robin."
How can you say that?
"Severin...?"
"Mmm-hmmm?"
"Kiss me..."
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO...
Simon watched, helpless, as everything fell apart all over again.
Simon woke up on Monday from frightening dreams of never seeing Robert again. He shook his head vigorously, and got up. As he went about his morning routine, he tried to think of a plan. Hunting up that little sheet of notebook paper Robert had given him, he fiddled with his hair as he dialed.
"Smith."
"Robin?" Simon's hand was slick and he nearly dropped the phone. "It's me, it's Simon."
"Ah, hallo Simon." Robert sounded surprised. "You all right? You sound scared."
"Nothing." Simon wiped his hand on his trousers. "Listen, um, I want to make up for a few nights ago, when I was drunk and threw up on your shoes."
"I don't - oh, Simon, you don't have to..." Simon could hear him blushing over the phone. "It was just an accident..."
"I insist." Simon ordered, getting the nervous quaver out of his voice. "I want to take you out for brunch. My treat."
"Oh, fine." a soft sigh. Simon could hear him smiling. "I'll meet you at the café in half an hour, all right?"
"See you."
**
Simon perused his menu and crossed his legs, humming a little to himself. Robert peered at him over the top of his own.
"Are you all right?"
"Hungry." Simon insisted, nodding and picking out a rather nice-looking sandwich.
Robert snickered. "You're always eating something! How do you stay so thin?"
"I get a good workout." Simon batted his eyelashes and the two of them laughed. Their food came quickly and soon mostly chewing sounds were heard in their conversation.
"So, how's your music coming?"
"I'm having a few little problems with my bassist." Robert leaned on an elbow. "Say, Si, can you play bass?"
"I don't think I've ever tried."
"Yeh, you did, remember that time I took you backstage?"
"Oh yes...ah, I probably could if I tried..."
"You should go buy one." Robert brightened. "Your...ah...your gigs probably won't last forever, and I've got loads of ideas."
Simon nodded a little. "Not a bad idea."
There was a moment of silence.
"Simon, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Simon finished the last of his sandwich.
"For not paying more attention to you." Robert cupped the younger boy's chin and ran his thumb over his soft cheek. "I've been really hanging off of Steve lately, and it's not fair to you."
Simon's heart felt like it was going to burst. "Oh, Robin..."
Robert smiled. "Why don't we spend the rest of the day together?"
"Oh yes - yes, please!"
The older boy laughed and tugged Simon into his lap, resting his chin on his shoulder. "I love you..."
**
It seemed like a dream. Robert was holding his hand all afternoon, not letting go. It was a warm, firm hand, but it was gentle too. Simon at that moment wanted nothing more than to hold the older boy's hand forever.
They walked the streets until long past dark, sometimes talking, sometimes not saying a single word - just being with one another. They finally made their way back to Simon's apartment and snuggled on the couch, cosy under a blanket with some hot tea and the telly playing some old movie.
It started off with a few innocent kisses, and then they both put down their empty cups and kissed for real. Simon was lost in Robert's arms; he could feel the older boy's lips all over his face and neck. It was so wonderful that he began to cry.
"Si..." Robert paused, stroking his cheek. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm so happy." Simon whispered in a raw, choked voice. "Please, don't stop..."
Robert kissed away his tears, licked them off; he kissed down Simon's throat and they both fumbled under the blankets to get undressed. Tangled in each other, they stumbled from the living room to the bedroom, finally losing the last piece of clothing as they hit the sheets.
"Robin..." Simon's hands were all over Robert's back and shoulders, trying to hold on as the older boy worshipped his soft, creamy flesh with kisses. "Please..."
"Simon..."
He pulled the older boy up for a kiss, running his hands down to hold Robert's hips and grind upward; the musician hissed and moaned with need, trying to find some sort of balance. Simon broke away just long enough to grab some stay lubricant and handed it to Robert.
With trembling, nervous hands, the older boy slicked up his arousal and held Simon's hips. "R-ready?"
"Robin...oh, yes..." Simon smiled, relaxing and holding onto Robert's shoulders. "Love you..."
He took a breath and slid in, hands trembling around Simon's waist. "Nghhhh..."
Simon clung to him. "Robin...Robin...breathe..."
They were still for a few moments, just watching each other, waiting. And then the older boy began to move and Simon threw his head back and they were lost in ecstasy.
**
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty..."
Oh no. Oh please, God, no...
He opened his eyes blearily, only to confirm what he heard: Robert was gone.
Severin was in his place.
Noooooooooooooooooooooo!
"Please, you've got to get me something..." Simon was begging now, practically down on his knees.
The older man shook his head, pushed his glasses up on his nose and went back to filling out forms. "I'm sorry, London, but I can't just snap my fingers and have it." he sighed. "You shouldn't expect much." He looked up.
"I could do anything." Simon pleaded. "I'm desperate. I'll be in a round of Soggy Biscuit!"
"That's rather low for you." he examined the boy over the top of his glasses.
Simon sagged slightly.
"This isn't about the money, is it? Because if you need a loan or something - "
"No, no..." Simon bit his lip, fists tightening. "I...I just need a distraction."
"A distraction? From what? London, this is serious business. You can't treat it like a holiday."
"I'm sorry."
"If you need someone, why don't you find a nice boy and - "
Simon went bright red, fighting the urge to scream. "No."
"Well, I'll certainly try." he blinked.
"Just get me something by the end of the week!"
**
By the time he hit his favourite bar, Simon was already completely wasted. He'd gone through his entire liquor cabinet at home. Timmy had been avoiding him for days, and he'd hissed at his human companion before vanishing through the window. Simon threw something after him and stormed out.
"Look, I'm not going to serve you any more! You look like you're about to pass out!"
"I'm not gonna faint!" Simon roared, pounding on the bar. "Give me a goddamned drink!"
"I'm gonna call the cops." the bartender gestured to his phone. "Get out."
Simon leapt over the bar, feline grace unhindered by the obscene amount of alcohol in his bloodstream. Hissing like the cat he was, the boy picked up a stool and threw it along the back, shattering mirrors and bottles. Patrons dived out of the way as he threw the bartender into the crowd.
"All I wanted - "
Thunk! Another chair found its way across the room, this time wedging itself in a corner, pinning a young man between it and the wall.
" - was to have a normal boyfriend - "
Crash! This one hit a large mirror and the pieces hung in the air for a palatable second before exploding in a thousand different arcs.
" - and a normal life - "
Claws out, he attacked the bartender, who, battered and beaten, tried to hold up a chair. Vague images of lion-tamers flooded Simon's mind.
" - and a fucking drink!"
He gave the man a good kick and then turned on the frightened patrons of the bar, who were trying to squeeze out the door too many at a time and had bottlenecked.
"But I am not normal. I am a fucking freak and you think it's hot and you exploit me. I hate you! I HATE YOU ALL!" his voice rose to a shriek, shattering the windows above their heads as he dove through them, over them, through the still-falling glass and out into the darkening streets.
**
He ran until he thought his lungs would burst. He was nearing his home when he rounded the corner into an alleyway - and collided with another person.
They both fell to the ground, tangled up in pain.
"Owch..."
"Augh..."
A blink. A pause.
"Simon?"
"Robin?"
A longer pause.
"What are you - "
"I didn't mean to - "
"Why - "
"Where - "
They both stopped. Then,
"I love you." They both had said it at once.
Simon looked away, holding himself.
Robert bit his lip, chewed at it. "Simon, please..."
"Robin, I can't - "
"Come back to me, Si, please!"
"No." Simon was looking at him in the face, straight in the eye, and they were moving closer. "No, we can't, I'm sorry, but we just - "
Lips met and suddenly there was a burst of heat in him; he wrapped his arms around Robert's shoulders as the older boy pressed up against him. He had the air pushed out of his lungs into the kiss as the singer shoved him up against the bricks.
He burned. Oh, he burned as he wrapped his legs around Robert's waist and ground down. A choked sob found its way muffled out of his mouth as his tongue slid in his lover's mouth. It was a slick heat, a dangerous fire, trying to taste Robert's soul but he was burning up.
The fire was in his groin, now, but suddenly it was gone, quenched; that hidden ecstasy come and gone in an explosion that nearly made him pass out. Robert pulled back with a gasp and they slid to the ground. He looked down; they were both a sticky damp mess just below the waist.
"I'm sorry."
"Simon, no, I - "
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Simon was sobbing now, running, he didn't know where. Not home, what was the point? Robert would find him there. He needed to get away, far away, anywhere away.
With screaming lungs and aching legs he lost himself in the warm, deep throat of the summer night.
Simon felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.
“Wh-what do you mean, I’m being let go?”
“I’m sorry, London, but after your last performance…well, we’ve just found someone better.”
“No! This isn’t fair!” Simon clutched the phone, tears streaming down his cheeks. “S-someone better?”
“Yes, I believe you know him, we found him when you two were working together.” His agent explained over the phone.
“Steven Severin.”
“Ah, so you do know him! In any case, you can use us as a reference and I wish you good luck in – “
Simon slammed the reciever back onto the hook, stumbling away with a sob. He tripped over Timmy, who hissed at him and darted away as he tumbled to the floor. Landing with a thud, the young man curled up into a tiny ball and cried. Severin had taken his boyfriend and now he’d taken his job. How could things get any worse?
He spotted it sideways on the floor when he finally looked up. An eviction notice.
“NO!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet and picking it up with trembling hands. “NO! This can’t be happening!”
But it was. He had a little under a day to move everything out; apparently someone had offered double his rent to have that apartment. Of course the owner was going to rent it out to the higher roller. Simon took Timmy in his carrier, and whatever he could carry. Let the new residents have the rest; he didn’t care about very much any more.
--
He found a job working tables at a pub – far away from the one he’d trashed not a week earlier. The owner let him stay in a small back room out of pity on a cheap rent. Timmy spent most of his time outside, since the patrons didn’t want furry things running underfoot. However, they were more than happy to tug on Simon’s tail or grab other parts of his body which were decidedly not tail.
A few of the more drunken patrons recognised him from his screenshots. One or two asked for autographs. Most of them asked for him. He refused at first, but then as time wore on he began to let them touch him. He never bedded them, though, even when they offered him everything. He promised himself some small amount of dignity would still remain.
Work was work, though, and Simon had made a lot of money on the movie which he now wasn’t paying on rent. On a whim one morning he found himself in a music store, running slim fingers over a darkly shined bass. Not really in any mood to argue, and remembering what Robert had said about his music, Simon let himself be talked into purchasing the instrument.
Robert came to the pub about two weeks into August, Severin on his arm.
“Never thought I’d see you again.” Severin smiled darkly at Simon, perched quite contentedly in Robert’s lap. “I like the apartment, by the way. It has such a nice view of the city.”
“May I take your order, please?” Simon asked helplessly, not looking up from his pad and pencil, trembling slightly with anger and sadness.
Severin ordered callously, but Robert wasn’t saying anything. Eventually when the blond went to the toilets, the musician caught Simon’s sleeve.
“I miss you.” he whispered, blinking a lot. Simon could see the tears barely held back for his sake. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“Do you still love me?”
“More than life.”
“Are…are you still looking for a bassist?”
Robert looked surprised. “Ah, yes, I have some demo tapes here…”
Just as Simon slipped them into his pocket, Severin returned. The blond gave him a cool look and took Robert’s arm. “Come on, we’re leaving…”
At the end of his shift, Simon put the tapes into his small player. He picked up his bass and tried to play along, figuring out odd little harmonies here and there. Gradually he got faster, able to keep up with Robert’s often frantic pace, thoroughly enjoying himself.
He kept practicing, but he never saw Robert again that August. It was if the man had vanished off the face of the earth.
--
It was the first, cold day in September when Simon finally saw Robert again. He came into the pub, but he didn’t say a word. By this time Simon had developed his fumbling fingers into hard, deft instruments of their own. Silently, he handed the tapes back to the musician.
Robert finished his drink, took the tapes, and without smiling, slid his money across the counter. Simon noticed the complete and total lack of any white-blond hairs on him…
He walked out of the bar and up the street. Simon watched him from the window. Then, he took a breath. He hung up his apron and went into the back room, shoving his things in a bag. He opened the carrier and let Timmy out for the last time.
“Good bye.” he whispered, throat threatening to close over. “Here goes nothing. Wish me luck, Tim.”
Then he picked up his bass, and went out the door, following Robert’s shadow as they both vanished into the misty morning rain.
END.