October Rain, part 3
Here's the next part. Big thanks to feverfewmole for helpful suggestions, even if she'd rather see me working on something else. :)
October Rain
Part 3
He’d been standing there for hours, it seemed, leaning against the wall, working hard at looking relaxed. The music was loud, deafeningly so, and the driving beats making the splintery wood vibrate against his vertebrae. His left hand was jammed deep into the front pocket of his tight black jeans, in his right he held the bottle he was nursing. It was his fifth one already, but so far there was none of that pleasant glow he’d expected. Only a growing sense of disorientation.
In front of him, the dance floor was packed with half-naked, writhing bodies, caught in stills by the stroboscope light. Watching them made his head spin, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rippling sixpacks and sweat-shiny pecs, the occasional pierced nipple. What was it with the gay community that caused this crazy rat race for perfection? When had youth become the measure of a man?
He shook his head and took another sip of his beer. The stuff was tepid after all this time he’d been clutching the bottle, but he wanted to at least look a little bit like he was having fun. From the absolute lack of looks going his way, he was fooling no one. In fact, people made a wide berth around him as if his misery was catching.
And to think that he’d been worried about being recognized! He’d even shaved his hair into a Mohawk and dyed it black, just because he wanted to be left in peace. No one was throwing him a second look now, and somehow that rankled, too.
The urge to flee became overwhelming. With shaky hands he set his half-drunk bottle down next to the wall and turned to leave. Only then the DJ suddenly did something right, and the unmistakable intro of “Another One Bites the Dust” rang from the speakers. He was no dancer, never had been, his inhibitions always too great to just let go and have fun, but now he was drawn forward like by invisible strings, and he pushed through the teeming bodies right to the center of the dancefloor.
He started out slow, controlled, trying not to bump into anyone. But it was impossible to avoid contact, most of the dancers were too far gone and nobody seemed to care anyway. In the end he closed his eyes and let himself be carried along with the tide, for once not caring who watched and if he looked silly. The freedom of it was exhilarating.
He lost completely track of time. At one point he got rid of his sweat-soaked tee, pulling it over his head and flinging it away. So what if he was a scrawny runt - he had it on good authority that some people liked exactly that. He shook his head in exasperation, banning all thoughts of Adam firmly from his head. Tonight was for him, and for him only.
It was during ‘Personal Jesus’, another stroke of genius from the DJ, that he slowly became aware of a presence behind him. It was the eeriest feeling: a sensation of warmth, accompanied by a weird tingling as if the space between their bodies was brimming with electricity. Just as his own breathing was speeding up he felt a soft touch at his naked shoulder. A shudder racing down his spine, he swallowed hard and took a tentative step back.
Warm hands caught him by the hips and pulled him in, against a smooth naked torso and an unmistakable erection against which he couldn’t help but push back. A muffled groan rewarded him, right next to his ear, and then a mouth slowly began to nuzzle the sensitive skin below it. Every now and then the mouth pulled back, and then he felt the breeze of a soft exhale ghost over his wet, tingling flesh. It made him break out in gooseflesh all over. Caught in a haze, he had no idea what he was doing. He only knew that it felt absolutely, 100% right.
The hands that held him wandered higher, tracing the bow of his ribs, gentle, but insistent, and he waited for the first inkling of a tickle, but it never came and with a shaky breath he relaxed further.
The person who he was leaning against couldn’t be much taller than him, if at all; their bodies were flush against each other, gyrating in the same slow rhythm. Even their panting was in synch, getting heavier. The hands were on his pecs now, playing with his nipples. They were a little rough, but not cruelly so, and Tommy was caught in a dilemma between wanting to grind back into that burning erection and pushing forward against those clever, insistent fingers.
Suddenly an arm wrapped itself around his waist, holding him firmly in place, and the other hand glided downward, ever so slowly, and he knew where it was going, and he knew the kind of spectacle they were providing for everyone watching, but he was damned if he cared. This, the two of them, was real. The others… Fuck them.
He let his head fall back against the other guy, almost feverish with anticipation. The hand crept over his naked belly and stayed there, creating such a sensation of heat that his knees buckled.
“Please,” he muttered, pushing back. “More!”
“Not here,” a husky voice whispered in his ear, and when he had processed that, he nodded jerkily, grabbed the guy’s hand and dragged him off the dance floor and out onto the street, never stopping to look back. Outside, though, they were greeted by a shower of torrential rain that drenched them within seconds. Breathless and giggling, they hovered on the sidewalk, swaying in place, and suddenly Tommy had a feeling like he was caught in a weird remake of Bonnie and Clyde.
“Where to?” he asked, blinking drops out of his eyes.
The other man gave his hand a tug. “I’ve got a car close by. Come on!”
As they jogged along, Tommy threw a quick sideways look at his companion, but the next street light was a way off and with the rain coming in almost horizontally he couldn’t see much. Only a man with a built similar to his own, slender and wiry, with dark, spiky hair. Something about his posture seemed vaguely familiar for a moment, but Tommy couldn’t pin it down.
They reached a red convertible, whose hard-top thankfully was in place, and jumped in.
The other man started the engine and veered onto the street. The heating was set to max and going full power, still the windscreen fogged over in seconds. Muttering a curse, the driver pulled to the side.
“There’s a rag in the glove compartment. Throw it over, please.”
Tommy opened the box and rummaged around in it. It was stuffed full with things. He felt condoms, little packets of lube, but nothing that felt remotely like a cloth.
“Can you switch the light on? I can’t see shit.”
The dome light came on and with a bit of fumbling Tommy managed to get a wiping cloth from the compartment’s depths. He turned to the driver, about to give it to him, when he caught his first clear look on the guy’s face.
What the-- Tommy almost caught whiplash, his head jerked around so fast, and then he could only stare. He blinked and looked again. The image stayed the same. Sitting next to him was the last guy he wanted to see. Well, maybe the second to last. Fuck.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he roared, feeling as if he’d been dunked in ice water. “Is this your idea of fun, or what?”
“Don’t be mad,” Sauli said, “Believe me, this is nothing I planned. I didn’t even recognize you at first. And when I did--” he broke off, shook his head and started anew. “Tommy, I really think we need to talk.”
His grey eyes were insistent on Tommy’s face, almost making him cave in, but then Tommy’s gaze fell on Sauli’s lips and the flashback of how that mouth had felt on his skin - and how it had made him feel, dammit - made Tommy’s anger only burn brighter.
“Talk?” he sneered. “You sneak up to me from behind, nearly get me off right in the middle of the fucking dance floor, and now you want to talk? Did Adam send you, or what? I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing, Sauli, but-“ He was sputtering, words failing him. Shaking with emotion, he reached for the door handle, only wanting to get away.
Sauli leaned toward him, caught his wrist and held him back. “Adam doesn’t know I’m here. Please, Tommy. You have to believe me. I-I left him, just like you did.” His voice broke on the last sentence, he obviously was telling the truth, Tommy thought. But still.
“I didn’t leave him,” he said. “We weren’t together in the first place.”
Sauli gave a little, bitter laugh. “Maybe that was the problem.”
“Adam and I, that was fan service, nothing more. You know that!” Tommy protested. “Besides, I’m not gay.”
“Is that so?” Sauli shot back. “Then what were you doing tonight, letting yourself be groped by a stranger in a gay bar? You’d have let me jack you off right there with everyone watching. Maybe you’re not gay, but you’re not so very straight, either.”
Uncomfortable with where this was going, Tommy changed tack. “So why did you leave him?”
Sauli averted his gaze, taking a deep breath. When the words came they were slow, like pebbles falling into a chasm one by one. “Because of you.”
“Because of me?” Tommy echoed. “But Sauli, you know I’ve never-“
Sauli interrupted him, looking pained. “He cancelled the whole damned tour when you disappeared! I mean, I knew music was more important to him than I was, and I’ve always accepted that, but all of a sudden you were the only thing that counted anymore.”
Unbelieving, Tommy watched silent tears run down Sauli’s face. His own anger taking a back seat, he took Sauli’s hand. The other man’s fingers were icy in his and slightly trembling. Nerves, Tommy thought, and it is cold in here, wet and half-naked as we are.
Loud he said, “But you know how Adam is, always going for lost causes. I only became important to him when I was gone. It’s you he loves, and you’re stupid to doubt him. Come on Sauli, let me get out of this car, and then you go back to where you belong.”
Sauli was silent for a long time, before he shook his head. “No. I can’t just go back. Things can’t be like before. I’m sick and tired of your ghost looming over my bed.”
He took the cloth that had fallen in his lap, and wiped the windscreen clear with jerky, angry moves. And then, all of a sudden, he started the car and floored it. “Fasten your seat belt!“ he shouted against the roar of the machine.
“Fuck! What are you doing?” Tommy yelled, hurrying to buckle up.
Sauli didn’t reply. Lips pressed together closely, he careened through the mostly empty streets like a man possessed. Tommy could only cling to his seat, closer to praying than he’d been in the last twenty or so years. It was almost a relief when suddenly a police car veered out behind them, blue lights flashing through the night and sirens rending the air.
Cursing a blue streak, Sauli hit the brakes. “Oh, crikey.”
Crikey? High with adrenaline, Tommy couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I’m gonna teach you some swearwords,” he muttered at the pale man next to him, just as an officer rapped his knuckles against the front side window. Sauli pushed the button and the window went down.
“Your driver’s license, please.”
Sauli paled even more. “I don’t have it with me,” he almost whispered.
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “Get out, both of you. Face to the car, hands on the roof.”
They both complied slowly, ending up facing each other over the car’s roof, the heavy rain pouring down on them, while one officer patted them down and his colleague fast-talked into his radio device.
“I’m sorry,” Sauli mouthed at Tommy, looking so crestfallen that Tommy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, too. Slowly, as not to alert the officers, he pushed his right hand across the hard top to take Sauli’s, just like he had in the car, only minutes ago.
“Don’t worry, okay? It’s just speeding, they’re gonna let us go.”
Sauli shook his head. “I don’t care if I go to jail. It’s… Fuck, I’ve messed everything up. I was going to get you back to Adam, throw you into his bed and…” He broke off, suppressing a sob.
“Throw me into Adam’s bed?” Tommy couldn’t wrap his mind around the craziness of that. “Are you nuts? What did you think would happen?”
“Shut up, you two!” the officer barked, and Sauli, who had been about to reply, clamped his mouth shut.
An hour or so later, they found themselves in a holding cell, freezing and miserable, squabbling over who to make their call to. Predictably, Sauli prevailed. Tommy waited in the cell, squatting on the hard wooden bench, his face buried in his hands. When Sauli returned, he sat down next to Tommy, their shoulders touching. Sauli’s skin was clammy, and Tommy could feel small shivers run through the other man’s body. Without stopping to think he put an arm around him and pulled him into a hug. And then they waited.
October Rain
Part 3
He’d been standing there for hours, it seemed, leaning against the wall, working hard at looking relaxed. The music was loud, deafeningly so, and the driving beats making the splintery wood vibrate against his vertebrae. His left hand was jammed deep into the front pocket of his tight black jeans, in his right he held the bottle he was nursing. It was his fifth one already, but so far there was none of that pleasant glow he’d expected. Only a growing sense of disorientation.
In front of him, the dance floor was packed with half-naked, writhing bodies, caught in stills by the stroboscope light. Watching them made his head spin, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rippling sixpacks and sweat-shiny pecs, the occasional pierced nipple. What was it with the gay community that caused this crazy rat race for perfection? When had youth become the measure of a man?
He shook his head and took another sip of his beer. The stuff was tepid after all this time he’d been clutching the bottle, but he wanted to at least look a little bit like he was having fun. From the absolute lack of looks going his way, he was fooling no one. In fact, people made a wide berth around him as if his misery was catching.
And to think that he’d been worried about being recognized! He’d even shaved his hair into a Mohawk and dyed it black, just because he wanted to be left in peace. No one was throwing him a second look now, and somehow that rankled, too.
The urge to flee became overwhelming. With shaky hands he set his half-drunk bottle down next to the wall and turned to leave. Only then the DJ suddenly did something right, and the unmistakable intro of “Another One Bites the Dust” rang from the speakers. He was no dancer, never had been, his inhibitions always too great to just let go and have fun, but now he was drawn forward like by invisible strings, and he pushed through the teeming bodies right to the center of the dancefloor.
He started out slow, controlled, trying not to bump into anyone. But it was impossible to avoid contact, most of the dancers were too far gone and nobody seemed to care anyway. In the end he closed his eyes and let himself be carried along with the tide, for once not caring who watched and if he looked silly. The freedom of it was exhilarating.
He lost completely track of time. At one point he got rid of his sweat-soaked tee, pulling it over his head and flinging it away. So what if he was a scrawny runt - he had it on good authority that some people liked exactly that. He shook his head in exasperation, banning all thoughts of Adam firmly from his head. Tonight was for him, and for him only.
It was during ‘Personal Jesus’, another stroke of genius from the DJ, that he slowly became aware of a presence behind him. It was the eeriest feeling: a sensation of warmth, accompanied by a weird tingling as if the space between their bodies was brimming with electricity. Just as his own breathing was speeding up he felt a soft touch at his naked shoulder. A shudder racing down his spine, he swallowed hard and took a tentative step back.
Warm hands caught him by the hips and pulled him in, against a smooth naked torso and an unmistakable erection against which he couldn’t help but push back. A muffled groan rewarded him, right next to his ear, and then a mouth slowly began to nuzzle the sensitive skin below it. Every now and then the mouth pulled back, and then he felt the breeze of a soft exhale ghost over his wet, tingling flesh. It made him break out in gooseflesh all over. Caught in a haze, he had no idea what he was doing. He only knew that it felt absolutely, 100% right.
The hands that held him wandered higher, tracing the bow of his ribs, gentle, but insistent, and he waited for the first inkling of a tickle, but it never came and with a shaky breath he relaxed further.
The person who he was leaning against couldn’t be much taller than him, if at all; their bodies were flush against each other, gyrating in the same slow rhythm. Even their panting was in synch, getting heavier. The hands were on his pecs now, playing with his nipples. They were a little rough, but not cruelly so, and Tommy was caught in a dilemma between wanting to grind back into that burning erection and pushing forward against those clever, insistent fingers.
Suddenly an arm wrapped itself around his waist, holding him firmly in place, and the other hand glided downward, ever so slowly, and he knew where it was going, and he knew the kind of spectacle they were providing for everyone watching, but he was damned if he cared. This, the two of them, was real. The others… Fuck them.
He let his head fall back against the other guy, almost feverish with anticipation. The hand crept over his naked belly and stayed there, creating such a sensation of heat that his knees buckled.
“Please,” he muttered, pushing back. “More!”
“Not here,” a husky voice whispered in his ear, and when he had processed that, he nodded jerkily, grabbed the guy’s hand and dragged him off the dance floor and out onto the street, never stopping to look back. Outside, though, they were greeted by a shower of torrential rain that drenched them within seconds. Breathless and giggling, they hovered on the sidewalk, swaying in place, and suddenly Tommy had a feeling like he was caught in a weird remake of Bonnie and Clyde.
“Where to?” he asked, blinking drops out of his eyes.
The other man gave his hand a tug. “I’ve got a car close by. Come on!”
As they jogged along, Tommy threw a quick sideways look at his companion, but the next street light was a way off and with the rain coming in almost horizontally he couldn’t see much. Only a man with a built similar to his own, slender and wiry, with dark, spiky hair. Something about his posture seemed vaguely familiar for a moment, but Tommy couldn’t pin it down.
They reached a red convertible, whose hard-top thankfully was in place, and jumped in.
The other man started the engine and veered onto the street. The heating was set to max and going full power, still the windscreen fogged over in seconds. Muttering a curse, the driver pulled to the side.
“There’s a rag in the glove compartment. Throw it over, please.”
Tommy opened the box and rummaged around in it. It was stuffed full with things. He felt condoms, little packets of lube, but nothing that felt remotely like a cloth.
“Can you switch the light on? I can’t see shit.”
The dome light came on and with a bit of fumbling Tommy managed to get a wiping cloth from the compartment’s depths. He turned to the driver, about to give it to him, when he caught his first clear look on the guy’s face.
What the-- Tommy almost caught whiplash, his head jerked around so fast, and then he could only stare. He blinked and looked again. The image stayed the same. Sitting next to him was the last guy he wanted to see. Well, maybe the second to last. Fuck.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he roared, feeling as if he’d been dunked in ice water. “Is this your idea of fun, or what?”
“Don’t be mad,” Sauli said, “Believe me, this is nothing I planned. I didn’t even recognize you at first. And when I did--” he broke off, shook his head and started anew. “Tommy, I really think we need to talk.”
His grey eyes were insistent on Tommy’s face, almost making him cave in, but then Tommy’s gaze fell on Sauli’s lips and the flashback of how that mouth had felt on his skin - and how it had made him feel, dammit - made Tommy’s anger only burn brighter.
“Talk?” he sneered. “You sneak up to me from behind, nearly get me off right in the middle of the fucking dance floor, and now you want to talk? Did Adam send you, or what? I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing, Sauli, but-“ He was sputtering, words failing him. Shaking with emotion, he reached for the door handle, only wanting to get away.
Sauli leaned toward him, caught his wrist and held him back. “Adam doesn’t know I’m here. Please, Tommy. You have to believe me. I-I left him, just like you did.” His voice broke on the last sentence, he obviously was telling the truth, Tommy thought. But still.
“I didn’t leave him,” he said. “We weren’t together in the first place.”
Sauli gave a little, bitter laugh. “Maybe that was the problem.”
“Adam and I, that was fan service, nothing more. You know that!” Tommy protested. “Besides, I’m not gay.”
“Is that so?” Sauli shot back. “Then what were you doing tonight, letting yourself be groped by a stranger in a gay bar? You’d have let me jack you off right there with everyone watching. Maybe you’re not gay, but you’re not so very straight, either.”
Uncomfortable with where this was going, Tommy changed tack. “So why did you leave him?”
Sauli averted his gaze, taking a deep breath. When the words came they were slow, like pebbles falling into a chasm one by one. “Because of you.”
“Because of me?” Tommy echoed. “But Sauli, you know I’ve never-“
Sauli interrupted him, looking pained. “He cancelled the whole damned tour when you disappeared! I mean, I knew music was more important to him than I was, and I’ve always accepted that, but all of a sudden you were the only thing that counted anymore.”
Unbelieving, Tommy watched silent tears run down Sauli’s face. His own anger taking a back seat, he took Sauli’s hand. The other man’s fingers were icy in his and slightly trembling. Nerves, Tommy thought, and it is cold in here, wet and half-naked as we are.
Loud he said, “But you know how Adam is, always going for lost causes. I only became important to him when I was gone. It’s you he loves, and you’re stupid to doubt him. Come on Sauli, let me get out of this car, and then you go back to where you belong.”
Sauli was silent for a long time, before he shook his head. “No. I can’t just go back. Things can’t be like before. I’m sick and tired of your ghost looming over my bed.”
He took the cloth that had fallen in his lap, and wiped the windscreen clear with jerky, angry moves. And then, all of a sudden, he started the car and floored it. “Fasten your seat belt!“ he shouted against the roar of the machine.
“Fuck! What are you doing?” Tommy yelled, hurrying to buckle up.
Sauli didn’t reply. Lips pressed together closely, he careened through the mostly empty streets like a man possessed. Tommy could only cling to his seat, closer to praying than he’d been in the last twenty or so years. It was almost a relief when suddenly a police car veered out behind them, blue lights flashing through the night and sirens rending the air.
Cursing a blue streak, Sauli hit the brakes. “Oh, crikey.”
Crikey? High with adrenaline, Tommy couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I’m gonna teach you some swearwords,” he muttered at the pale man next to him, just as an officer rapped his knuckles against the front side window. Sauli pushed the button and the window went down.
“Your driver’s license, please.”
Sauli paled even more. “I don’t have it with me,” he almost whispered.
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “Get out, both of you. Face to the car, hands on the roof.”
They both complied slowly, ending up facing each other over the car’s roof, the heavy rain pouring down on them, while one officer patted them down and his colleague fast-talked into his radio device.
“I’m sorry,” Sauli mouthed at Tommy, looking so crestfallen that Tommy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, too. Slowly, as not to alert the officers, he pushed his right hand across the hard top to take Sauli’s, just like he had in the car, only minutes ago.
“Don’t worry, okay? It’s just speeding, they’re gonna let us go.”
Sauli shook his head. “I don’t care if I go to jail. It’s… Fuck, I’ve messed everything up. I was going to get you back to Adam, throw you into his bed and…” He broke off, suppressing a sob.
“Throw me into Adam’s bed?” Tommy couldn’t wrap his mind around the craziness of that. “Are you nuts? What did you think would happen?”
“Shut up, you two!” the officer barked, and Sauli, who had been about to reply, clamped his mouth shut.
An hour or so later, they found themselves in a holding cell, freezing and miserable, squabbling over who to make their call to. Predictably, Sauli prevailed. Tommy waited in the cell, squatting on the hard wooden bench, his face buried in his hands. When Sauli returned, he sat down next to Tommy, their shoulders touching. Sauli’s skin was clammy, and Tommy could feel small shivers run through the other man’s body. Without stopping to think he put an arm around him and pulled him into a hug. And then they waited.