Silver Bullets: Chapter 9
Title: Silver Bullets
Author: mgssnake
Rating: mostly PG-13, will advance to higher ratings in later chapters though.
Pairing: Matt Shadows/Synyster Gates, slight Zacky Vengeance/Synyster Gates
Summary: No one ever did say that being a rock star was easy. Fresh out of high school, 18-year-old Matthew Sanders decides to pursue his dream of being a rock star. Everything seems to fall into place as he recruits musicians from his school and neighborhood. Once assembled, Matt's band seems to be ready for the big times, until he meets a new kid on the block who knows first hand what a rock star life can be like.
Author's Notes: With all of my stories, I tend to wing all of them, mostly because I never have a set story line. This story is set before the band even exists; however, I'll try my best to keep my facts and stuff straight, critique is welcome. ^_^
Disclaimer: The wonderful band known as Avenged Sevenfold is the sole property of the members, who undoubtedly own themselves. This story is a work of fiction, the foretold events are completely fictional, and have never happened. Any and all references to actual people, events or institutions, which are still living or present in occurrence, are purely coincidental. I am not making any money for this.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
"Dad, please, reconsider," Brian pleaded as he was more or less dragged to the familiar azure and chrome colored truck sitting idly in the visitor's section of the hospital's parking lot.
"No Brian," his father reprimanded firmly, his right hand clamped tightly around his son's left wrist, his long, calloused fingers curled equally as tight. "My decision is final. We are moving, end of story."
"But dad," the guitarist began, glancing over his shoulder only to furrow his brow as he caught sight of Matt standing just outside of the hospital's emergency entrance, the overhang creating a dim shadow as the sun proceeded to wane. "What about the band?"
"You're officially out of it," the elder Brian responded, fetching his keys out of his left jeans' pocket, unlocking his truck afterward.
Horrified by his own father's words, Brian soon began to resist against his father's grip, pulling at his captive wrist unceasingly until he managed to wriggle the appendage free.
"Brian!" the irate father shouted as he watched his son sprint back toward the hospital, crying out multiple times from the pain that rippled violently in his healing leg.
Clenching his jaw profusely, Brian Haner Sr. took off after his son, who was now only a few feet away from Matt. With tears blazing down his face from the pain of profusely exerting his injured and sore muscles, the brown-eyed guitarist soon smiled radiantly as he practically collapsed into his lover's strong embrace, sobbing into his shirt afterward.
"Shh, it's alright Bri," Matt cooed softly as he gently kissed his love's forehead. "I've got you."
"Brian!" a sharp reprimand sounded as his father caught up.
"No dad, I don't want to move!" the younger Brian replied as he glanced at his father, his face still slightly concealed in the crook of the athlete's neck. "I like it here, and I love Matt!"
"Brian Elwin Haner Jr.!" his father screamed, his voice echoing in the small overhang of the hospital's emergency entrance. "You get your ass in that truck right now or so help me God I will throw you out on the streets!"
Frightened by his father's outburst and threat, the Long Beach guitarist stared back at him before sinking back into Matt's protective embrace, pulling away slightly before glancing up into his hazel eyes. Lifting his right hand, the vocalist gently wiped away his lover's tears before kissing him lightly.
"Brian!" the elder Haner repeated as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest.
"I love you," they whispered in unison before Matt unwillingly relinquished his grip on Brian, allowing him to slip through his fingers before watching him retreat back toward the momentarily forgotten vehicle.
\~*~/
Matt sighed heavily as he slipped into his own truck, his keys hanging loosely around his right middle finger. Closing his driver's side door, he relished in the silence of the vehicle. Glancing over at the passenger's seat only served to revive the pain of fresh wounds until he had to look away.
There was no doubt in his mind that his whole Spring Break was now ruined all because of an unlucky situation and a very close-minded father. Allowing for another sigh to cascade over his lips, he leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, closing his eyes afterward. It wasn't long however before his cell phone's constant clamoring distracted him from his thoughts. Retrieving the object, he quickly flicked it open and selecting the speaker option before answering.
"Hello?" he solemnly replied.
"Yo Matt, where are ya man?" the familiar voice of a rather concerned Zacky questioned.
"I'm at the hospital," he answered as he rubbed the underside of his nose lightly.
"What are you doing there?" the guitarist questioned, slight hesitation evident in his voice.
"Leaving," the athlete commented as he started his truck. "I'll tell you the full details when I get home okay?"
"Alright, I'll see you in a bit then," Zacky responded. "And are you okay? You sound like someone you know just died."
"Zack...I have to drive now, I'll talk to you later," Matt replied before flipping his phone closed, not really bothering to wait for his friend's response.
Tossing his phone onto the passenger's seat he quickly rubbed the moisture that had begun to accumulate around his eyes before shifting into reverse and backing out of the parking spot he had located the night before when he was asked to leave and that he could return the next day to visit Brian.
\~*~/
Brian remained silent as he stared out of his window; the environment passing by so quickly that it only appeared as nothing more than a blur. The only thing he could really do at the moment was cry. He had no words to vocalize, no song to sing along to, and no desire to even begin a somber conversation with his father who proceeded to glance back and forth between the road and his slouched form.
"Brian," his father eventually sighed as he stopped at a red light. "I'm only doing this for your own good."
Glancing at the light a few times, he eventually leaned back in his seat before glancing back over at his son, another glistening tear cascading down his youthful face. Once the light flashed green, the engine was the only thing generating a noise to distract the two from the awkward silence that plagued the vehicle's atmosphere.
"Brian..." the elder Haner began again, pausing to see if his son would pay him heed. "Look son, I'm only trying to protect you..."
"I know," the guitarist finally replied, interrupting his father in the process. "I know the story dad, you can spare me the details."
After what seemed like five years time, the retired guitarist pulled into the driveway of their house. Wordlessly, Brian unlocked his door before closing it, leaving his father alone in his vehicle. Walking around to the tailgate, the guitarist quickly pulled on the lever, allowing for the rather heavy object to fall before it recoiled slightly with the assistance of the support cables and the sturdy hinges. Locating his black guitar case, he sharply tugged on the object before lifting it out of the bed of the truck. Reclosing the tailgate, he quickly made his way up onto his front porch before opening the door and briskly walking into the house, closing it afterward.
His father had watched the whole process from the driver's seat, and even though he wanted to be angry at his son for his defiant behavior and devious activity with that other boy, he soon came to realize that he really had no excuse to be angry with him. He was merely acting out in spite, his son being the unfortunate target of his anger. The only reason he could find that kept him solidified to the idea of moving was the look on his son's face that day he came home after his break-up with that girl he was dating for so long. He wanted only the best for his son, and he intended to provide it for him, however, it just seemed that neither Long Beach, nor Los Angeles was the case.
Sighing heavily, he finally decided to exit his truck and walk toward his house. He had a few possibilities running through his head that his son would be doing to occupy his time with until dinner, and he figured that with how upset his son really was at the moment, it would be best to just let him be. After all, it was the tactic that Brian used when he lost his darling wife that night. Sighing heavily, he slowly opened the door, softly closing and locking the barrier afterward. The first sound to greet his ears upon entering the residence was the soft strumming of a slow melody on an acoustic guitar. The melody was new and from the way it was executed, along with many curses and pauses, was heartbreaking.
Meanwhile, in his room, Brian slowly plucked away at the aged steel strings of his father's beloved acoustic guitar. He ran out of tears, so he felt that the next best choice to display his anxiety would be through music. He knew of very few angst songs that would passionately describe how he felt at the moment, so he improvised, strumming single notes followed by longer chords. His fingers proceeded to sting after a few minutes from the sheer fact that they were not used to the cold, sharp metal, but were more attracted to the stiff nylon strings his own guitar sported.
Slowly but surely the heart-felt melody crept into the deepest recesses and brightest highlights of the house, enveloping it in a somber atmosphere as the sun slowly slipped beneath the horizon. He was so involved in his music that he didn't even hear his father call him down to supper. Even if he heard the dinner bell chime, he wouldn't come, he wasn't hungry, and probably wouldn't be for a while. It wasn't long before his entire room was bathed in the inky blackness of night, and he had to force himself to stop playing for the pain throbbing in his fingers radiated violently with the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat.
Sighing heavily, he carefully placed the acoustic guitar down on his bed before following the object's soft outline over toward his nightstand. Blindly groping the top of the nightstand, Brian searched for the small lamp the object held along with his alarm clock. Finally locating the switch to his small lamp, he flicked the luminous object on, immediately replacing the somber darkness with a soft, resilient glow of light. His fingers soon reminded him to check on them only to realize that they were all wounded and bleeding. He knew that the blood trails would stain the fair-colored skin of his hands, but at the moment, he could really care less.
"I wonder what Matt's doin'?" he questioned himself as he flopped back onto his bed, the guitar bouncing slightly from the recoil of the mattress.
A soft smile slowly crept onto his features as he remembered all that happened in the past 48 hours. It all seemed like a movie, however in the movies, the couple is always supposed to be together, right? Well that's how they always ended when moving pictures were still the latest thing to come forth in entertainment way back at the beginning of the 20th century. Brian was an all-time, old movies fan who always believed in love at first sight and happily ever afters. Nonetheless, he'd always get teased for it, but he'd often equate that he was just misunderstood and that everything modern had to have come from somewhere, they didn't just appear one day.
His mind slowly drifted off to the topic of the band he was officially a part of for less than a day. He never even had the chance to practice with the guys. He never acquired the chance to listen to Zacky's beautiful Gibson SG, or Johnny's powerful bass. He wasn't even allowed to study up on Jimmy's rhythm and pace to adapt his playing style. And last, but absolutely not least, he never acquired the privilege to hear Matt sing. Sure he had a rough around the edges voice, which at times sounded like he just recovered from a sore throat, but then again Axl Rose and Steven Taylor don't exactly have velvety speaking voices either.
In his adventures through his memory, he soon thought about what he could do just to run away. He had his license, and was over 18 so he should have no major problems going anywhere he wanted. The only problem is that he didn't exactly have a car he could take anywhere he wanted. In fact the only vehicle he ever saw that was in operable condition was his father's truck, and he couldn't very well just take it and run off. He then thought about the compact vehicle in the garage that was covered with a canvas tarp. The last time he ever saw the object was three or so months ago when he was cleaning out the garage.
"Wait a minute," he thought out loud as he halted his train of thought. "I know what's under that tarp. That's mom's old Toyota Celica. It should only be a few years old...but then again it could have so many things wrong with it."
His thoughts on running away to Matt's house in his mother's car soon added hope to his dire situation.
"Although, it's only like three, four years old," he reassured himself as he slipped into his converse shoes. "And it's been in the garage ever since her funeral. It's settled, I'm going."
Slowly opening his bedroom door, he poked his head out to inspect the upper-level hallway before quietly slipping out and tiptoeing into his dad's room. Ever since his mother's passing, his dad always kept her belongings such as her jewelry and other precious objects in a small box on the top shelf of his closet. Flicking on the light, he quickly paced over to the closet and, quickly throwing open the door, located the box. Gingerly plucking the object off of the shelf, he lifted the lid off of it, digging through the items inside before locating the telltale keys at the bottom.
"Sorry mom," he whispered as he quickly replaced the box before closing the door to the closet. "I hope you can understand where I'm coming from."
As if to answer his comment, the phone rang.
"I'll get it Bri," he heard his father call before the object rang one more time as his father picked up.
"Thanks mom," Brian whispered softly before he quickly descended the stairs and ran into the garage, grabbing his guitar in the process.
The garage was pitch black, the only light that could be seen came from the moon shining in through a small window on one of the garage's walls. Pushing a button located adjacent to the door, the garage door proceeded to rise as a small light attached to a motor, which powered the door, flickered on. Before him rested the tarp-covered Celica, otherwise known as his mother's vehicle which often provided him the means of transportation back and forth to school. Carefully placing his guitar case down, Brian latched his hands onto the tarp before forcefully pulling the cover free from the vehicle. Tossing the tarp to the side, he quickly reclaimed his guitar case and opened the left rear door. Tossing the case in the back seat, he quickly closed the door before opening the driver's side door and slipping into the vehicle.
"Thanks for your help so far mom," he commented as he inserted the keys into the ignition, pausing afterward. "Now all I ask of you is to please help me get to Matt's place safely."
Upon finishing his plea, he turned the keys in the ignition, holding his breath as he listened to the engine spur. The first attempt at starting the car failed, leaving the guitarist anxious and jittery. Trying a second time, he lightly bit down on his lower lip only managing to receive the same results.
"Come on please," he whispered. "Please start."
Testing his luck one more time, he turned the keys in the ignition, waiting to hear the familiar kick of the engine turning over. To his relief, the engine soon roared to life as the display lit up and the radio proceeded to play. Celebrating the fact that the car started, Brian momentarily paused as he thanked his mother again before turning on the headlights and shifting into reverse. The only obstacle left in his way now was his father's truck in the driveway. Nibbling on his lower lip, he carefully maneuvered the small car out of the garage and around his father's truck, sacrificing the lawn in the process.
"I'm coming Matt," he vowed as he blazed down the road, recalling the route from memory. "I'm not ending what we started just because my dad doesn't like it."
\~*~/
Meanwhile, Matt sighed heavily as he buried his face in his hands, the rough skin slightly chaffing his face. He was currently sharing the front porch with Jimmy who was enjoying the nicotine rush a fresh cigarette provided.
"Oh Bri..." the vocalist sighed a second time as he watched a few cars dart by on the street by his house. "I miss you."
"Hey, Matt!" Jimmy called as he took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling the gray-white smoke afterward. "What's on your mind bud?"
"What do you think Jim?" Matt shot back, crossing his arms over his chest, his fingers curling around his biceps.
"I don't know," he replied, taking another long drag. "That's why I asked."
"I'm thinkin' about Bri, alright?" the athlete answered. "I wonder what he's doing right now."
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders stoically before resuming his consumption of his cigarette, the smoldering tobacco glowing a vibrant orange before fading as the drummer pulled the object away from his thin lips. He then redirected his cobalt-blue eyes toward the glowing horizon, exhaling the cigarette's smoke through his nostrils in the process. He really didn't know why the fact that Brian's dad told him to come home this morning, let along the guitarist's absence in general affected Matt so much. He mostly just placed their relationship on the best of friends mark. Exhaling sharply through his nose, Jimmy flicked the pile of spent ashes off of the smoldering end of his cigarette before resuming its slow consumption.
"So Matt," he began, breaking the comfortable silence as smoke from the last intake billowed elegantly out of his mouth before he aided the rest with a soft breath. "What's up with you and Brian? Why does his sudden absence upset you so much?"
"What do you mean?" Matt questioned as he glanced over at his friend who was in the process of inhaling another drag.
"Well, look at yourself," the drummer commented, placing the shrinking cigarette delicately between his lips as he leaned onto the porch's railing. "Ever since he left, you've been moping' around, you're ballin' your eyes out, and you keep starin' at that street thinkin' he'll find someway of comin' back."
The vocalist remained silent as he reverted his gaze to focus on a small patch of grass below his feet. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to tell Jimmy what has been going on between him and Brian, mostly because Jimmy never really was good at keeping secrets. And if word got out about their affair, he would never be able to live it down at school. Not only that, but he'd be kicked off of the track team and student council faster than he can say fuck.
"Matt, I bet I know what you're thinkin'," Jimmy commented as he plucked the spent cigarette from his lips before tossing it down onto the porch and swiping the sole of his shoe a few times over it. "You're probably thinkin' that whatever your little secret is, you're not gonna tell me 'cause I'll blab it to the whole school."
"Because you would Jim," Matt interrupted. "You always do. Nothing is sacred to you."
"Nah, I only tell some people 'cause of the reaction that will spread from it," the drummer answered, a crooked smile perched upon his lips. "But in all seriousness M, what is it?"
"I'm not going to tell you Jimmy," the tattooed athlete responded, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You like him, don't you?" Jimmy questioned in a soft tone as he resumed his leaning against the porch railing.
Matt furrowed his brow to the point of adding a few extra lines to his forehead as he glanced up at his fellow band mate. A soft smile soon spread onto the drummer's lips as he glanced back out at the road, the level of traffic slowly increasing. A few minutes of awkward silence passes before the vocalist offers his own heavy sigh before clearing his throat.
"Yes," he whispered. "I like him."
"I kind of figured," Jimmy replied glancing down at his friend. "It's apparently very hard for you to conceal the affection you have for him."
"What do you mean?" Matt questioned as he stood up.
"I saw the news report," the drummer answered.
"Oh," the vocalist commented softly. "Well I guess now that you know the truth you can go and tell everyone at school when we get back next week huh?"
"Nah," came a simple reply coupled with a shrug. "I wouldn't do that to you Matty. Besides, you guys make a cute couple."
"You're just sayin' that," Matt replied, a smirk claiming his lips.
"No man, I really mean that," Jimmy responded stoically as he glanced up at the bright crescent moon.
"Well, I guess I'll go to bed now," the athlete commented as he stretched his arms over his head, his shoulders popping.
"All right, see ya in the mornin'," the drummer commented as he curled his back, popping numerous vertebrae back into place along his spine.
He sighed lightly as he glanced out over the busy streets one more time, a soft smile soon resting upon his lips.
"Don't worry Matt," he whispered to himself. "He'll come back. I know it."
\~*~/
It was well past midnight by the time that Brian had finally reached Matt's designated development. Even though with traffic being at an all time low, he still couldn't believe that he got pulled over twice by two different cops, one right after the other. The first cop let him off with a warning and instructed him to get his right taillight replaced before traveling any far distances again. However the second cop just served to piss him off to the point of him being threatened with arrest for failure to cooperate. The second offense he was guilty of was aggressive driving and speeding. To this, he was handed two separate tickets, each totaling over $1,000.00.
"Thank god, I made it," he sighed as he finally located Matt's house, the familiar obsidian Silverado parked in the driveway.
As carefully as he could, Brian eased his own car in the driveway next to Matt's, turning off the engine after a few moments of thanking his mother. Judging by how late it was, he deduced that everyone would be in bed by now, so he decided on leaving his guitar in the car and trying his luck at one of the doors. Even though it was late, there were quite a few people in the house; so surly someone would hear him. Locking his mother's car, he proceeded to walk around to the back of the house, only to stop dead in his tracks when the patio light flickered on, followed by the sound of the sliding, glass door opening.
Quickly ducking behind the house, Brian carefully peeked out to observe who would be up and out at this hour besides himself. To both of his surprise and relief, Matt was that person. The weary athlete apparently could not sleep; therefore he journeyed outside to hopefully clear his mind. Sighing heavily, he leaned his elbows against the sanded and painted surface of the wooden banisters, the slightly damp wood creaking under his weight.
"I can't sleep," he whispered to himself as he glanced up at the clear night sky, the stars dotting the black canvas like diamonds. "I miss you so much Brian."
"I missed you too," the guitarist whispered, gaining Matt's attention.
"Who's there?" he questioned in a commanding voice.
"Someone who loves you," Brian answered as he stepped out from behind the house and into the radiant light from the floodlights, which bled a vibrant white over the yard.
At first Matt wasn't even sure if this was a dream or reality, however his doubt soon dissipated and was quickly replaced with unbridled joy and relief, causing a radiant smile to spread onto his features.
"Brian!" he cried as he leapt over the railing.
"Matt," the Long Beach guitarist whispered as he proceeded to sprint toward his lover, whose arms were already spread wide.
As if the time they had been apart was an eternity rather than a few hours, the reunited band members soon met in a suffocatingly tight embrace, tears of joy blazing new trails down their faces. The tight embrace soon dissolved however as they began to exchange quick chaste kisses which eventually melted into deep passionate ones.
"I've made up my mind," Brian whispered before Matt claimed his lips once more. "I'm staying."
"But what about, your father?" the vocalist questioned before sharing another passionate kiss.
"I don't care," he answered, cupping his hands around Matt's jaw line. "I only care about you, about this band, and about our future. Matt, I love you."
"I love you too," Matt replied smiling. "How about we go inside and get some sleep? You must be tired."
"Extremely," Brian answered before a gaping yawn stretched his jaw muscles.
Smiling softly, the tattooed athlete gently lifted the guitarist into his arms before journeying back into the house, closing the door and turning off the patio floodlights afterward.
\~*~/
"Maaaaatt!" Brian whined as he fell back against his love's mattress. "I can undress myself thank you very much."
"Fine, undress," Matt commanded as he crossed his arms over his now bare chest.
"Not with you watching!" the guitarist commented, pouting afterward.
"Bri," the vocalist sighed before turning his back to his love, who then giggled softly as he proceeded to undress.
"No peeking!" Brian informed as he tossed his t-shirt onto the floor, followed shortly by his jeans and shoes.
"Can I turn around yet?" a very impatient Matt questioned as he proceeded to tap his right foot against the ground.
"Yes, you can turn around," the brown-eyed guitarist replied, a smile in his voice.
With a lazy smirk plastered onto his features, Matt slowly turned around, only to practically fall over from the rapid amount of blood loss to his head upon glancing over at his lover. Brian was currently perched upon his heels with his palms pressed against the sheets wearing only his birthday suit. Mustering up a sultry smirk, the guitarist lifted his right hand and turned it so that his palm was facing up. Glancing up at the vocalist through his lashes, he slowly curled his index finger toward himself a few times. Accepting the invitation almost immediately, Matt quickly disrobed before climbing onto his bed after his teasing love.
"How much do you want me?" Brian questioned as he scooted back toward the headboard, his lover not too far behind.
"So much it hurts baby," he answered as he proceeded to kiss his neck.
A soft sigh escaped the guitarist's thin lips as he elongated his neck by tilting his head to the side, allowing Matt more room to work. Brian always found that his neck was an exceptional orgasmic spot that he loved to exploit when he "fooled around". Matt was no exception whatsoever. He knew exactly where to bite, lick, kiss and lavish. In fact he could say that it could compare to his control when it came to the physical intimacy. Momentarily lost amongst his thoughts once more, the guitarist was soon brought back to reality once his vocalist proceeded to lightly nip at one particular spot on his neck between his neckline and his collarbones, tearing a fresh moan from his vocal chords.
"Ugh..Matt," he groaned as he pulled his lover into a heated kiss.
The vocalist partially opened his eyes before allowing them to fall closed again as he felt Brian push his tongue into his mouth. Wrapping the fingers of his right hand behind the guitarist's head, Matt proceeded to lovingly lavish his partner's tongue with his own before gently sucking on it, ripping a low groan from Brian. Pulling out of the heated kiss, the blushing guitarist inclined his head to lovingly nip at Matt's left earlobe, grazing the expanse of skin before soothing the irritated skin with his tongue.
"Matt," he whispered into his left ear. "You've already done so much for me. Allow me to pleasure you tonight."
A low, animalistic purr was the hazel-eyed boy's answer. Smirking devilishly, Brian pushed his lover back against the mattress, straddling his hips afterward. A lazy smile soon replaced his smirk as he leaned down against Matt's chest, placing light kisses against the sun-kissed skin, which he soon followed-up with short wave-like movements of his hips, thus grinding their quickly growing erections together.
"Ugh, god Bri," Matt moaned as he latched his hands onto his lover's head, bringing him up into a passionate kiss.
Momentarily detaching himself from his demanding lover, Brian soon set to work on locating Matt's own orgasm junctions on his body. Leaning over his lover's body once again, the guitarist gently kissed and nipped at the vocalist's collarbones before trailing down to his inked pectoral muscles. Absorbing a moment to distract himself, Brian carefully ran the pads of his fingers across the vast planes of Matt's chest. A soft groan of impatience however soon caused the sultry guitarist to enclose one of his lover's nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the rather sensitive spot, the reaction causing both of the two lovers to groan deep in their throats.
"Oh, fuck, Bri...I want you," Matt moaned as his hips bucked up against Brian's.
"How much do you want me?" the guitarist questioned, his voice heavy with lust.
"So much...that it hurts," the vocalist replied.
Brian smirked before sliding further down Matt's body, trailing his short fingernails down his torso as he did so. Closing his eyes, the vocalist reveled in the sensation of pain and pleasure as his lover's hands explored uncharted territory. However to his immediate dismay, the guitarist decided to continue his teasing, thus taking his time exploring and tasting his lower abdominals and hips.
"Bri, please," Matt pleaded, his breath slightly ragged. "Please, don't tease."
"As you wish," Brian replied as his long, calloused fingers followed the prominent "V" his love's hips made before sliding along and wrapping around his erect cock, earning a shuddering groan to pass over his lips. "I wonder what you taste like."
Without warning or preamble, Brian wrapped his lips around the weeping head of Matt's cock, slowly inching forward afterward. Deep, guttural moans were fished out of the vocalist's throat as he threw his head back against the sheets, his right hand relocating to Brian's head, his fingers interlacing between the long strands of smooth, soft, obsidian lochs of hair. Utilizing his hands to assist him, Brian took in as much of his lover's cock as he was comfortable with, his moist tongue lavishing the underside and the slit in rhythmic cadences that had Matt writhing underneath him.
"Bri," Matt groaned as a prominent shudder coursed its way through his body.
"Mmm," the Long Beach guitarist hummed, opening his mouth to exhale quickly before returning to his work.
"Uaah," the vocalist sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head up toward the ceiling. "That feels so good Bri."
Taking his time, Brian continued to lavish his lover's cock, swiping his tongue along the pulsing sex organ as if it were a cherry-flavored popsicle. However, he soon halted his progress once he felt subtle differences in Matt's body, the increase in pre-cum being the first telltale. Slowly, he lifted his head, allowing for his lover's saliva-coated cock to slip from his mouth. Arching his back inward, the sultry guitarist sensually licked his lips before crawling back up Matt's body.
"Darling," he whispered, leaning his head down to gently kiss his lover's neck. "Where do you keep your lube and condoms?"
"Top drawer...of, my desk," the athlete panted as he tilted his head in the direction of the specified object.
"Thanks babe," Brian commented softly as he alighted from the bed to saunter over to the desk, opening the mentioned drawer afterward. "Found 'em."
Retrieving a medium-sized bottle of KY gel and a Trojan condom, the brown-eyed guitarist closed the drawer before returning to the bed, taking extra precaution to sway his hips every step he took. A lazy smile soon claimed Matt's features as his fellow band mate reclaimed his spot on top of him.
"What?" the guitarist questioned as he popped the cap on the personal lubricant bottle.
"You're so beautiful," he replied, earning an exasperated sigh from Brian who also rolled his eyes.
"You are such a sap," Brian retorted as he poured a small string of clear gel onto Matt's heat-laden stomach.
"Oh fuck that's cold!" he exclaimed as his stomach muscles tensed.
"Well then, I'll warm it up for you," his lover replied as he smoothed the gel out with his hands, the friction progressively warming the substance.
"Why are you gellin' up my stomach?" Matt questioned as he continued to watch what his lover was doing.
"I chafe easily," Brian confessed as he retrieved the lube bottle again, squirting more frigid gel into his hands. "Now for the fun part."
Quickly shimmying down Matt's body, he wrapped his long fingers around his lover's neglected cock, stroking the organ a few times before proceeding to pump it up and down in quick decisive movements. Allowing for his eyes to flutter closed, Matt moaned loudly before falling back onto the mattress, curling his fingers in the sheets.
"You sure are noisy," the guitarist informed as he wiped the excess gel on his hands onto the sheets.
"You are too honey," the tattooed athlete retorted.
"Would you mind prepping me babe?" Brian questioned as he returned to his spot on Matt's lower abdomen.
"Did you really need to ask?" the vocalist responded, earning a shrug from his lover. "Well give me a pillow, my neck is getting sore."
A genuine smile spread onto the guitarist's lips as he arched his back, stretching back afterward to reach a pillow resting undisturbed near the headboard. Retrieving the closest one to his outstretched hands, Brian contracted his defined abdominal muscles to return his body to an upright position, placing the object behind his lover's head in the process.
"You are so goddamn sexy," Matt marveled as Brian lifted one of his hands, the size comparison being quite astounding.
"Thank you," the guitarist replied as he lovingly kissed the vocalist's left wrist before spreading his fingers to kiss his palm.
Closing his eyes halfway, Brian glanced down at Matt before inserting his index finger into his mouth, lavishing the digit with as much passion as he did before, taking precaution to thoroughly coat it with his saliva. Once he was satisfied, he moved on to Matt's middle finger, repeating the process before preparing his ring finger as well. Once he felt he had taken enough precautions, the guitarist slowly pulled his lover's individual fingers from his mouth before allowing Matt to take over for the moment. Leaning down against the familiar body underneath him, Brian proceeded to kiss his lover's neck, lavishing a few spots with his tongue as he felt the vocalist's left hand traverse slowly down his lower back.
A soft whimper vibrated in his throat as Matt's fingers slipped in between his buttocks, slowly locating each bone that made up his tailbone before discovering the tightly clenched ring of muscle that safeguarded his entrance. Lifting his head slightly, Brian softly kissed Matt's lips as he quickly slipped his index finger into him, earning a sharp groan of pain.
"Come back to me baby," Matt whispered as he slowly worked to stretch his lover.
Brian sighed softly as he resumed his passionate kiss as his vocalist inserted another digit, incorporating the act of scissoring. As he grew more accustomed to the sensations pulsing alongside his racing heartbeat, his muscles soon began to slowly relax, making the process of foreplay run much more smoothly. Breaking the lazy kiss Brian rested his head back against Matt's neck, practically burying his face in the crook.
Eventually the third and final digit was inserted, stretching the ring of muscle even further in the hopes that intercourse would remain as pain-free as it could. Digging deeper, he soon located what he hoped to rediscover later. Arching his back inward, Brian stifled a soft groan as he pushed back against his lover's fingers, his hot breath ghosting across Matt's chest in a rapid succession.
"Ready babe?" the tattooed athlete questioned as he slowly slipped his fingers out of his lover.
"Yeah," Brian panted as he pushed himself off of Matt's chest, retrieving the condom package afterward.
Tearing open the package soon became a daunting task to the guitarist as his fingers continued to tremble profusely. Matt was about to lend a hand when he managed to open it and quickly slipped the latex tube onto his lover's weeping cock. Sliding slightly lower, Brian carefully lined himself up before proceeding to impale himself on Matt's cock. The pain was unimaginable, and he was quickly bartering whether or not he should jerk himself down or not. Halfway through, he agreed with the decision and swiftly drove his hips down, causing a sharp cry to escape his throat, his eyes tightly clamped shut.
"Babe, are you alright?" Matt questioned in blunt concern. "Should we stop?"
"No, no, I'm okay," he quickly replied, bowing his head. "Just give me a minute.
"Take as long as you need babe," the vocalist reassured as he reached up and threaded his fingers through his lover's hair.
After a few minutes pass, the throbbing pain dulls to a slow thrum, which causes the guitarist to slowly move, rolling his hips in a rhythmic cadence. The movements, the sight before him and the tight warmth surrounding his cock soon caused Matt's eyes to roll to the back of his head. A low satisfied moan snaked out of his mouth as his hands slid down to rest upon Brian's undulating hips. After a few moments of establishing a rhythm and vocal refrain, the eager guitarist sped up the tempo, pushing the doppler on the metronome down a few clicks.
A chorus of panting moans soon vibrated forth from Brian's throat as he lifted his arms over his head, tilting his face up toward the ceiling as he curled his arms back behind his head, his long hair cascading over his flexed pectoral muscles. The sight before him caused a low animalistic growl to vibrate in Matt's throat as he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around Brian's neglected cock, pumping the sex organ in a counter cadence to their own. The added pleasure electrified the guitarist's slender body as a higher-pitched orgasmic moan spilled out over his quivering lips. Curling his fingers in his long, obsidian hair, he soon began to softly chant Matt's name in between his building orgasm noises.
"Aah, Matt, I'm so close," he groaned as he rolled his hips, assisting his partner in locating his sweet spot to send him over the edge.
"Hold on just a bit longer babe," Matt growled as he bucked up into Brian's tight heat.
In the immediate seconds that followed, Brian practically screamed as his pleasure center was finally located, his abdominal muscles clenching as he placed his hands down onto the vocalist's chest, electricity crackling along his every last nerve. The quivering soon affected the rhythmic cadence the two had followed since they began, therefore Matt regained control by thrusting up into his lover's writhing body, slamming dead on into his pleasure center again.
"Aah, Matt!" he gasped as he climaxed, painting his lover's abdominal regions with his seed.
"Stay with me Bri," Matt commanded as he bucked up into his exhausted lover's body once more, burying his cock deep into Brian's body as he too climaxed.
A soft whimper escaped Brian's abused vocal chords as he practically collapsed onto the tattooed chest of his intimate lover, his breathing a ragged pant. Shifting slightly the guitarist arched his back slightly to allow for Matt's softening cock to easily slip out of him. Weary from the day, the drive and the passionate sex, Brian managed a lazy yawn before resting his head against Matt's left shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
"Goodnight Bri," the spent bandleader whispered as he gently kissed his partner's head. "I love you."
Author: mgssnake
Rating: mostly PG-13, will advance to higher ratings in later chapters though.
Pairing: Matt Shadows/Synyster Gates, slight Zacky Vengeance/Synyster Gates
Summary: No one ever did say that being a rock star was easy. Fresh out of high school, 18-year-old Matthew Sanders decides to pursue his dream of being a rock star. Everything seems to fall into place as he recruits musicians from his school and neighborhood. Once assembled, Matt's band seems to be ready for the big times, until he meets a new kid on the block who knows first hand what a rock star life can be like.
Author's Notes: With all of my stories, I tend to wing all of them, mostly because I never have a set story line. This story is set before the band even exists; however, I'll try my best to keep my facts and stuff straight, critique is welcome. ^_^
Disclaimer: The wonderful band known as Avenged Sevenfold is the sole property of the members, who undoubtedly own themselves. This story is a work of fiction, the foretold events are completely fictional, and have never happened. Any and all references to actual people, events or institutions, which are still living or present in occurrence, are purely coincidental. I am not making any money for this.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
"Dad, please, reconsider," Brian pleaded as he was more or less dragged to the familiar azure and chrome colored truck sitting idly in the visitor's section of the hospital's parking lot.
"No Brian," his father reprimanded firmly, his right hand clamped tightly around his son's left wrist, his long, calloused fingers curled equally as tight. "My decision is final. We are moving, end of story."
"But dad," the guitarist began, glancing over his shoulder only to furrow his brow as he caught sight of Matt standing just outside of the hospital's emergency entrance, the overhang creating a dim shadow as the sun proceeded to wane. "What about the band?"
"You're officially out of it," the elder Brian responded, fetching his keys out of his left jeans' pocket, unlocking his truck afterward.
Horrified by his own father's words, Brian soon began to resist against his father's grip, pulling at his captive wrist unceasingly until he managed to wriggle the appendage free.
"Brian!" the irate father shouted as he watched his son sprint back toward the hospital, crying out multiple times from the pain that rippled violently in his healing leg.
Clenching his jaw profusely, Brian Haner Sr. took off after his son, who was now only a few feet away from Matt. With tears blazing down his face from the pain of profusely exerting his injured and sore muscles, the brown-eyed guitarist soon smiled radiantly as he practically collapsed into his lover's strong embrace, sobbing into his shirt afterward.
"Shh, it's alright Bri," Matt cooed softly as he gently kissed his love's forehead. "I've got you."
"Brian!" a sharp reprimand sounded as his father caught up.
"No dad, I don't want to move!" the younger Brian replied as he glanced at his father, his face still slightly concealed in the crook of the athlete's neck. "I like it here, and I love Matt!"
"Brian Elwin Haner Jr.!" his father screamed, his voice echoing in the small overhang of the hospital's emergency entrance. "You get your ass in that truck right now or so help me God I will throw you out on the streets!"
Frightened by his father's outburst and threat, the Long Beach guitarist stared back at him before sinking back into Matt's protective embrace, pulling away slightly before glancing up into his hazel eyes. Lifting his right hand, the vocalist gently wiped away his lover's tears before kissing him lightly.
"Brian!" the elder Haner repeated as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest.
"I love you," they whispered in unison before Matt unwillingly relinquished his grip on Brian, allowing him to slip through his fingers before watching him retreat back toward the momentarily forgotten vehicle.
\~*~/
Matt sighed heavily as he slipped into his own truck, his keys hanging loosely around his right middle finger. Closing his driver's side door, he relished in the silence of the vehicle. Glancing over at the passenger's seat only served to revive the pain of fresh wounds until he had to look away.
There was no doubt in his mind that his whole Spring Break was now ruined all because of an unlucky situation and a very close-minded father. Allowing for another sigh to cascade over his lips, he leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, closing his eyes afterward. It wasn't long however before his cell phone's constant clamoring distracted him from his thoughts. Retrieving the object, he quickly flicked it open and selecting the speaker option before answering.
"Hello?" he solemnly replied.
"Yo Matt, where are ya man?" the familiar voice of a rather concerned Zacky questioned.
"I'm at the hospital," he answered as he rubbed the underside of his nose lightly.
"What are you doing there?" the guitarist questioned, slight hesitation evident in his voice.
"Leaving," the athlete commented as he started his truck. "I'll tell you the full details when I get home okay?"
"Alright, I'll see you in a bit then," Zacky responded. "And are you okay? You sound like someone you know just died."
"Zack...I have to drive now, I'll talk to you later," Matt replied before flipping his phone closed, not really bothering to wait for his friend's response.
Tossing his phone onto the passenger's seat he quickly rubbed the moisture that had begun to accumulate around his eyes before shifting into reverse and backing out of the parking spot he had located the night before when he was asked to leave and that he could return the next day to visit Brian.
\~*~/
Brian remained silent as he stared out of his window; the environment passing by so quickly that it only appeared as nothing more than a blur. The only thing he could really do at the moment was cry. He had no words to vocalize, no song to sing along to, and no desire to even begin a somber conversation with his father who proceeded to glance back and forth between the road and his slouched form.
"Brian," his father eventually sighed as he stopped at a red light. "I'm only doing this for your own good."
Glancing at the light a few times, he eventually leaned back in his seat before glancing back over at his son, another glistening tear cascading down his youthful face. Once the light flashed green, the engine was the only thing generating a noise to distract the two from the awkward silence that plagued the vehicle's atmosphere.
"Brian..." the elder Haner began again, pausing to see if his son would pay him heed. "Look son, I'm only trying to protect you..."
"I know," the guitarist finally replied, interrupting his father in the process. "I know the story dad, you can spare me the details."
After what seemed like five years time, the retired guitarist pulled into the driveway of their house. Wordlessly, Brian unlocked his door before closing it, leaving his father alone in his vehicle. Walking around to the tailgate, the guitarist quickly pulled on the lever, allowing for the rather heavy object to fall before it recoiled slightly with the assistance of the support cables and the sturdy hinges. Locating his black guitar case, he sharply tugged on the object before lifting it out of the bed of the truck. Reclosing the tailgate, he quickly made his way up onto his front porch before opening the door and briskly walking into the house, closing it afterward.
His father had watched the whole process from the driver's seat, and even though he wanted to be angry at his son for his defiant behavior and devious activity with that other boy, he soon came to realize that he really had no excuse to be angry with him. He was merely acting out in spite, his son being the unfortunate target of his anger. The only reason he could find that kept him solidified to the idea of moving was the look on his son's face that day he came home after his break-up with that girl he was dating for so long. He wanted only the best for his son, and he intended to provide it for him, however, it just seemed that neither Long Beach, nor Los Angeles was the case.
Sighing heavily, he finally decided to exit his truck and walk toward his house. He had a few possibilities running through his head that his son would be doing to occupy his time with until dinner, and he figured that with how upset his son really was at the moment, it would be best to just let him be. After all, it was the tactic that Brian used when he lost his darling wife that night. Sighing heavily, he slowly opened the door, softly closing and locking the barrier afterward. The first sound to greet his ears upon entering the residence was the soft strumming of a slow melody on an acoustic guitar. The melody was new and from the way it was executed, along with many curses and pauses, was heartbreaking.
Meanwhile, in his room, Brian slowly plucked away at the aged steel strings of his father's beloved acoustic guitar. He ran out of tears, so he felt that the next best choice to display his anxiety would be through music. He knew of very few angst songs that would passionately describe how he felt at the moment, so he improvised, strumming single notes followed by longer chords. His fingers proceeded to sting after a few minutes from the sheer fact that they were not used to the cold, sharp metal, but were more attracted to the stiff nylon strings his own guitar sported.
Slowly but surely the heart-felt melody crept into the deepest recesses and brightest highlights of the house, enveloping it in a somber atmosphere as the sun slowly slipped beneath the horizon. He was so involved in his music that he didn't even hear his father call him down to supper. Even if he heard the dinner bell chime, he wouldn't come, he wasn't hungry, and probably wouldn't be for a while. It wasn't long before his entire room was bathed in the inky blackness of night, and he had to force himself to stop playing for the pain throbbing in his fingers radiated violently with the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat.
Sighing heavily, he carefully placed the acoustic guitar down on his bed before following the object's soft outline over toward his nightstand. Blindly groping the top of the nightstand, Brian searched for the small lamp the object held along with his alarm clock. Finally locating the switch to his small lamp, he flicked the luminous object on, immediately replacing the somber darkness with a soft, resilient glow of light. His fingers soon reminded him to check on them only to realize that they were all wounded and bleeding. He knew that the blood trails would stain the fair-colored skin of his hands, but at the moment, he could really care less.
"I wonder what Matt's doin'?" he questioned himself as he flopped back onto his bed, the guitar bouncing slightly from the recoil of the mattress.
A soft smile slowly crept onto his features as he remembered all that happened in the past 48 hours. It all seemed like a movie, however in the movies, the couple is always supposed to be together, right? Well that's how they always ended when moving pictures were still the latest thing to come forth in entertainment way back at the beginning of the 20th century. Brian was an all-time, old movies fan who always believed in love at first sight and happily ever afters. Nonetheless, he'd always get teased for it, but he'd often equate that he was just misunderstood and that everything modern had to have come from somewhere, they didn't just appear one day.
His mind slowly drifted off to the topic of the band he was officially a part of for less than a day. He never even had the chance to practice with the guys. He never acquired the chance to listen to Zacky's beautiful Gibson SG, or Johnny's powerful bass. He wasn't even allowed to study up on Jimmy's rhythm and pace to adapt his playing style. And last, but absolutely not least, he never acquired the privilege to hear Matt sing. Sure he had a rough around the edges voice, which at times sounded like he just recovered from a sore throat, but then again Axl Rose and Steven Taylor don't exactly have velvety speaking voices either.
In his adventures through his memory, he soon thought about what he could do just to run away. He had his license, and was over 18 so he should have no major problems going anywhere he wanted. The only problem is that he didn't exactly have a car he could take anywhere he wanted. In fact the only vehicle he ever saw that was in operable condition was his father's truck, and he couldn't very well just take it and run off. He then thought about the compact vehicle in the garage that was covered with a canvas tarp. The last time he ever saw the object was three or so months ago when he was cleaning out the garage.
"Wait a minute," he thought out loud as he halted his train of thought. "I know what's under that tarp. That's mom's old Toyota Celica. It should only be a few years old...but then again it could have so many things wrong with it."
His thoughts on running away to Matt's house in his mother's car soon added hope to his dire situation.
"Although, it's only like three, four years old," he reassured himself as he slipped into his converse shoes. "And it's been in the garage ever since her funeral. It's settled, I'm going."
Slowly opening his bedroom door, he poked his head out to inspect the upper-level hallway before quietly slipping out and tiptoeing into his dad's room. Ever since his mother's passing, his dad always kept her belongings such as her jewelry and other precious objects in a small box on the top shelf of his closet. Flicking on the light, he quickly paced over to the closet and, quickly throwing open the door, located the box. Gingerly plucking the object off of the shelf, he lifted the lid off of it, digging through the items inside before locating the telltale keys at the bottom.
"Sorry mom," he whispered as he quickly replaced the box before closing the door to the closet. "I hope you can understand where I'm coming from."
As if to answer his comment, the phone rang.
"I'll get it Bri," he heard his father call before the object rang one more time as his father picked up.
"Thanks mom," Brian whispered softly before he quickly descended the stairs and ran into the garage, grabbing his guitar in the process.
The garage was pitch black, the only light that could be seen came from the moon shining in through a small window on one of the garage's walls. Pushing a button located adjacent to the door, the garage door proceeded to rise as a small light attached to a motor, which powered the door, flickered on. Before him rested the tarp-covered Celica, otherwise known as his mother's vehicle which often provided him the means of transportation back and forth to school. Carefully placing his guitar case down, Brian latched his hands onto the tarp before forcefully pulling the cover free from the vehicle. Tossing the tarp to the side, he quickly reclaimed his guitar case and opened the left rear door. Tossing the case in the back seat, he quickly closed the door before opening the driver's side door and slipping into the vehicle.
"Thanks for your help so far mom," he commented as he inserted the keys into the ignition, pausing afterward. "Now all I ask of you is to please help me get to Matt's place safely."
Upon finishing his plea, he turned the keys in the ignition, holding his breath as he listened to the engine spur. The first attempt at starting the car failed, leaving the guitarist anxious and jittery. Trying a second time, he lightly bit down on his lower lip only managing to receive the same results.
"Come on please," he whispered. "Please start."
Testing his luck one more time, he turned the keys in the ignition, waiting to hear the familiar kick of the engine turning over. To his relief, the engine soon roared to life as the display lit up and the radio proceeded to play. Celebrating the fact that the car started, Brian momentarily paused as he thanked his mother again before turning on the headlights and shifting into reverse. The only obstacle left in his way now was his father's truck in the driveway. Nibbling on his lower lip, he carefully maneuvered the small car out of the garage and around his father's truck, sacrificing the lawn in the process.
"I'm coming Matt," he vowed as he blazed down the road, recalling the route from memory. "I'm not ending what we started just because my dad doesn't like it."
\~*~/
Meanwhile, Matt sighed heavily as he buried his face in his hands, the rough skin slightly chaffing his face. He was currently sharing the front porch with Jimmy who was enjoying the nicotine rush a fresh cigarette provided.
"Oh Bri..." the vocalist sighed a second time as he watched a few cars dart by on the street by his house. "I miss you."
"Hey, Matt!" Jimmy called as he took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling the gray-white smoke afterward. "What's on your mind bud?"
"What do you think Jim?" Matt shot back, crossing his arms over his chest, his fingers curling around his biceps.
"I don't know," he replied, taking another long drag. "That's why I asked."
"I'm thinkin' about Bri, alright?" the athlete answered. "I wonder what he's doing right now."
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders stoically before resuming his consumption of his cigarette, the smoldering tobacco glowing a vibrant orange before fading as the drummer pulled the object away from his thin lips. He then redirected his cobalt-blue eyes toward the glowing horizon, exhaling the cigarette's smoke through his nostrils in the process. He really didn't know why the fact that Brian's dad told him to come home this morning, let along the guitarist's absence in general affected Matt so much. He mostly just placed their relationship on the best of friends mark. Exhaling sharply through his nose, Jimmy flicked the pile of spent ashes off of the smoldering end of his cigarette before resuming its slow consumption.
"So Matt," he began, breaking the comfortable silence as smoke from the last intake billowed elegantly out of his mouth before he aided the rest with a soft breath. "What's up with you and Brian? Why does his sudden absence upset you so much?"
"What do you mean?" Matt questioned as he glanced over at his friend who was in the process of inhaling another drag.
"Well, look at yourself," the drummer commented, placing the shrinking cigarette delicately between his lips as he leaned onto the porch's railing. "Ever since he left, you've been moping' around, you're ballin' your eyes out, and you keep starin' at that street thinkin' he'll find someway of comin' back."
The vocalist remained silent as he reverted his gaze to focus on a small patch of grass below his feet. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to tell Jimmy what has been going on between him and Brian, mostly because Jimmy never really was good at keeping secrets. And if word got out about their affair, he would never be able to live it down at school. Not only that, but he'd be kicked off of the track team and student council faster than he can say fuck.
"Matt, I bet I know what you're thinkin'," Jimmy commented as he plucked the spent cigarette from his lips before tossing it down onto the porch and swiping the sole of his shoe a few times over it. "You're probably thinkin' that whatever your little secret is, you're not gonna tell me 'cause I'll blab it to the whole school."
"Because you would Jim," Matt interrupted. "You always do. Nothing is sacred to you."
"Nah, I only tell some people 'cause of the reaction that will spread from it," the drummer answered, a crooked smile perched upon his lips. "But in all seriousness M, what is it?"
"I'm not going to tell you Jimmy," the tattooed athlete responded, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You like him, don't you?" Jimmy questioned in a soft tone as he resumed his leaning against the porch railing.
Matt furrowed his brow to the point of adding a few extra lines to his forehead as he glanced up at his fellow band mate. A soft smile soon spread onto the drummer's lips as he glanced back out at the road, the level of traffic slowly increasing. A few minutes of awkward silence passes before the vocalist offers his own heavy sigh before clearing his throat.
"Yes," he whispered. "I like him."
"I kind of figured," Jimmy replied glancing down at his friend. "It's apparently very hard for you to conceal the affection you have for him."
"What do you mean?" Matt questioned as he stood up.
"I saw the news report," the drummer answered.
"Oh," the vocalist commented softly. "Well I guess now that you know the truth you can go and tell everyone at school when we get back next week huh?"
"Nah," came a simple reply coupled with a shrug. "I wouldn't do that to you Matty. Besides, you guys make a cute couple."
"You're just sayin' that," Matt replied, a smirk claiming his lips.
"No man, I really mean that," Jimmy responded stoically as he glanced up at the bright crescent moon.
"Well, I guess I'll go to bed now," the athlete commented as he stretched his arms over his head, his shoulders popping.
"All right, see ya in the mornin'," the drummer commented as he curled his back, popping numerous vertebrae back into place along his spine.
He sighed lightly as he glanced out over the busy streets one more time, a soft smile soon resting upon his lips.
"Don't worry Matt," he whispered to himself. "He'll come back. I know it."
\~*~/
It was well past midnight by the time that Brian had finally reached Matt's designated development. Even though with traffic being at an all time low, he still couldn't believe that he got pulled over twice by two different cops, one right after the other. The first cop let him off with a warning and instructed him to get his right taillight replaced before traveling any far distances again. However the second cop just served to piss him off to the point of him being threatened with arrest for failure to cooperate. The second offense he was guilty of was aggressive driving and speeding. To this, he was handed two separate tickets, each totaling over $1,000.00.
"Thank god, I made it," he sighed as he finally located Matt's house, the familiar obsidian Silverado parked in the driveway.
As carefully as he could, Brian eased his own car in the driveway next to Matt's, turning off the engine after a few moments of thanking his mother. Judging by how late it was, he deduced that everyone would be in bed by now, so he decided on leaving his guitar in the car and trying his luck at one of the doors. Even though it was late, there were quite a few people in the house; so surly someone would hear him. Locking his mother's car, he proceeded to walk around to the back of the house, only to stop dead in his tracks when the patio light flickered on, followed by the sound of the sliding, glass door opening.
Quickly ducking behind the house, Brian carefully peeked out to observe who would be up and out at this hour besides himself. To both of his surprise and relief, Matt was that person. The weary athlete apparently could not sleep; therefore he journeyed outside to hopefully clear his mind. Sighing heavily, he leaned his elbows against the sanded and painted surface of the wooden banisters, the slightly damp wood creaking under his weight.
"I can't sleep," he whispered to himself as he glanced up at the clear night sky, the stars dotting the black canvas like diamonds. "I miss you so much Brian."
"I missed you too," the guitarist whispered, gaining Matt's attention.
"Who's there?" he questioned in a commanding voice.
"Someone who loves you," Brian answered as he stepped out from behind the house and into the radiant light from the floodlights, which bled a vibrant white over the yard.
At first Matt wasn't even sure if this was a dream or reality, however his doubt soon dissipated and was quickly replaced with unbridled joy and relief, causing a radiant smile to spread onto his features.
"Brian!" he cried as he leapt over the railing.
"Matt," the Long Beach guitarist whispered as he proceeded to sprint toward his lover, whose arms were already spread wide.
As if the time they had been apart was an eternity rather than a few hours, the reunited band members soon met in a suffocatingly tight embrace, tears of joy blazing new trails down their faces. The tight embrace soon dissolved however as they began to exchange quick chaste kisses which eventually melted into deep passionate ones.
"I've made up my mind," Brian whispered before Matt claimed his lips once more. "I'm staying."
"But what about, your father?" the vocalist questioned before sharing another passionate kiss.
"I don't care," he answered, cupping his hands around Matt's jaw line. "I only care about you, about this band, and about our future. Matt, I love you."
"I love you too," Matt replied smiling. "How about we go inside and get some sleep? You must be tired."
"Extremely," Brian answered before a gaping yawn stretched his jaw muscles.
Smiling softly, the tattooed athlete gently lifted the guitarist into his arms before journeying back into the house, closing the door and turning off the patio floodlights afterward.
\~*~/
"Maaaaatt!" Brian whined as he fell back against his love's mattress. "I can undress myself thank you very much."
"Fine, undress," Matt commanded as he crossed his arms over his now bare chest.
"Not with you watching!" the guitarist commented, pouting afterward.
"Bri," the vocalist sighed before turning his back to his love, who then giggled softly as he proceeded to undress.
"No peeking!" Brian informed as he tossed his t-shirt onto the floor, followed shortly by his jeans and shoes.
"Can I turn around yet?" a very impatient Matt questioned as he proceeded to tap his right foot against the ground.
"Yes, you can turn around," the brown-eyed guitarist replied, a smile in his voice.
With a lazy smirk plastered onto his features, Matt slowly turned around, only to practically fall over from the rapid amount of blood loss to his head upon glancing over at his lover. Brian was currently perched upon his heels with his palms pressed against the sheets wearing only his birthday suit. Mustering up a sultry smirk, the guitarist lifted his right hand and turned it so that his palm was facing up. Glancing up at the vocalist through his lashes, he slowly curled his index finger toward himself a few times. Accepting the invitation almost immediately, Matt quickly disrobed before climbing onto his bed after his teasing love.
"How much do you want me?" Brian questioned as he scooted back toward the headboard, his lover not too far behind.
"So much it hurts baby," he answered as he proceeded to kiss his neck.
A soft sigh escaped the guitarist's thin lips as he elongated his neck by tilting his head to the side, allowing Matt more room to work. Brian always found that his neck was an exceptional orgasmic spot that he loved to exploit when he "fooled around". Matt was no exception whatsoever. He knew exactly where to bite, lick, kiss and lavish. In fact he could say that it could compare to his control when it came to the physical intimacy. Momentarily lost amongst his thoughts once more, the guitarist was soon brought back to reality once his vocalist proceeded to lightly nip at one particular spot on his neck between his neckline and his collarbones, tearing a fresh moan from his vocal chords.
"Ugh..Matt," he groaned as he pulled his lover into a heated kiss.
The vocalist partially opened his eyes before allowing them to fall closed again as he felt Brian push his tongue into his mouth. Wrapping the fingers of his right hand behind the guitarist's head, Matt proceeded to lovingly lavish his partner's tongue with his own before gently sucking on it, ripping a low groan from Brian. Pulling out of the heated kiss, the blushing guitarist inclined his head to lovingly nip at Matt's left earlobe, grazing the expanse of skin before soothing the irritated skin with his tongue.
"Matt," he whispered into his left ear. "You've already done so much for me. Allow me to pleasure you tonight."
A low, animalistic purr was the hazel-eyed boy's answer. Smirking devilishly, Brian pushed his lover back against the mattress, straddling his hips afterward. A lazy smile soon replaced his smirk as he leaned down against Matt's chest, placing light kisses against the sun-kissed skin, which he soon followed-up with short wave-like movements of his hips, thus grinding their quickly growing erections together.
"Ugh, god Bri," Matt moaned as he latched his hands onto his lover's head, bringing him up into a passionate kiss.
Momentarily detaching himself from his demanding lover, Brian soon set to work on locating Matt's own orgasm junctions on his body. Leaning over his lover's body once again, the guitarist gently kissed and nipped at the vocalist's collarbones before trailing down to his inked pectoral muscles. Absorbing a moment to distract himself, Brian carefully ran the pads of his fingers across the vast planes of Matt's chest. A soft groan of impatience however soon caused the sultry guitarist to enclose one of his lover's nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the rather sensitive spot, the reaction causing both of the two lovers to groan deep in their throats.
"Oh, fuck, Bri...I want you," Matt moaned as his hips bucked up against Brian's.
"How much do you want me?" the guitarist questioned, his voice heavy with lust.
"So much...that it hurts," the vocalist replied.
Brian smirked before sliding further down Matt's body, trailing his short fingernails down his torso as he did so. Closing his eyes, the vocalist reveled in the sensation of pain and pleasure as his lover's hands explored uncharted territory. However to his immediate dismay, the guitarist decided to continue his teasing, thus taking his time exploring and tasting his lower abdominals and hips.
"Bri, please," Matt pleaded, his breath slightly ragged. "Please, don't tease."
"As you wish," Brian replied as his long, calloused fingers followed the prominent "V" his love's hips made before sliding along and wrapping around his erect cock, earning a shuddering groan to pass over his lips. "I wonder what you taste like."
Without warning or preamble, Brian wrapped his lips around the weeping head of Matt's cock, slowly inching forward afterward. Deep, guttural moans were fished out of the vocalist's throat as he threw his head back against the sheets, his right hand relocating to Brian's head, his fingers interlacing between the long strands of smooth, soft, obsidian lochs of hair. Utilizing his hands to assist him, Brian took in as much of his lover's cock as he was comfortable with, his moist tongue lavishing the underside and the slit in rhythmic cadences that had Matt writhing underneath him.
"Bri," Matt groaned as a prominent shudder coursed its way through his body.
"Mmm," the Long Beach guitarist hummed, opening his mouth to exhale quickly before returning to his work.
"Uaah," the vocalist sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head up toward the ceiling. "That feels so good Bri."
Taking his time, Brian continued to lavish his lover's cock, swiping his tongue along the pulsing sex organ as if it were a cherry-flavored popsicle. However, he soon halted his progress once he felt subtle differences in Matt's body, the increase in pre-cum being the first telltale. Slowly, he lifted his head, allowing for his lover's saliva-coated cock to slip from his mouth. Arching his back inward, the sultry guitarist sensually licked his lips before crawling back up Matt's body.
"Darling," he whispered, leaning his head down to gently kiss his lover's neck. "Where do you keep your lube and condoms?"
"Top drawer...of, my desk," the athlete panted as he tilted his head in the direction of the specified object.
"Thanks babe," Brian commented softly as he alighted from the bed to saunter over to the desk, opening the mentioned drawer afterward. "Found 'em."
Retrieving a medium-sized bottle of KY gel and a Trojan condom, the brown-eyed guitarist closed the drawer before returning to the bed, taking extra precaution to sway his hips every step he took. A lazy smile soon claimed Matt's features as his fellow band mate reclaimed his spot on top of him.
"What?" the guitarist questioned as he popped the cap on the personal lubricant bottle.
"You're so beautiful," he replied, earning an exasperated sigh from Brian who also rolled his eyes.
"You are such a sap," Brian retorted as he poured a small string of clear gel onto Matt's heat-laden stomach.
"Oh fuck that's cold!" he exclaimed as his stomach muscles tensed.
"Well then, I'll warm it up for you," his lover replied as he smoothed the gel out with his hands, the friction progressively warming the substance.
"Why are you gellin' up my stomach?" Matt questioned as he continued to watch what his lover was doing.
"I chafe easily," Brian confessed as he retrieved the lube bottle again, squirting more frigid gel into his hands. "Now for the fun part."
Quickly shimmying down Matt's body, he wrapped his long fingers around his lover's neglected cock, stroking the organ a few times before proceeding to pump it up and down in quick decisive movements. Allowing for his eyes to flutter closed, Matt moaned loudly before falling back onto the mattress, curling his fingers in the sheets.
"You sure are noisy," the guitarist informed as he wiped the excess gel on his hands onto the sheets.
"You are too honey," the tattooed athlete retorted.
"Would you mind prepping me babe?" Brian questioned as he returned to his spot on Matt's lower abdomen.
"Did you really need to ask?" the vocalist responded, earning a shrug from his lover. "Well give me a pillow, my neck is getting sore."
A genuine smile spread onto the guitarist's lips as he arched his back, stretching back afterward to reach a pillow resting undisturbed near the headboard. Retrieving the closest one to his outstretched hands, Brian contracted his defined abdominal muscles to return his body to an upright position, placing the object behind his lover's head in the process.
"You are so goddamn sexy," Matt marveled as Brian lifted one of his hands, the size comparison being quite astounding.
"Thank you," the guitarist replied as he lovingly kissed the vocalist's left wrist before spreading his fingers to kiss his palm.
Closing his eyes halfway, Brian glanced down at Matt before inserting his index finger into his mouth, lavishing the digit with as much passion as he did before, taking precaution to thoroughly coat it with his saliva. Once he was satisfied, he moved on to Matt's middle finger, repeating the process before preparing his ring finger as well. Once he felt he had taken enough precautions, the guitarist slowly pulled his lover's individual fingers from his mouth before allowing Matt to take over for the moment. Leaning down against the familiar body underneath him, Brian proceeded to kiss his lover's neck, lavishing a few spots with his tongue as he felt the vocalist's left hand traverse slowly down his lower back.
A soft whimper vibrated in his throat as Matt's fingers slipped in between his buttocks, slowly locating each bone that made up his tailbone before discovering the tightly clenched ring of muscle that safeguarded his entrance. Lifting his head slightly, Brian softly kissed Matt's lips as he quickly slipped his index finger into him, earning a sharp groan of pain.
"Come back to me baby," Matt whispered as he slowly worked to stretch his lover.
Brian sighed softly as he resumed his passionate kiss as his vocalist inserted another digit, incorporating the act of scissoring. As he grew more accustomed to the sensations pulsing alongside his racing heartbeat, his muscles soon began to slowly relax, making the process of foreplay run much more smoothly. Breaking the lazy kiss Brian rested his head back against Matt's neck, practically burying his face in the crook.
Eventually the third and final digit was inserted, stretching the ring of muscle even further in the hopes that intercourse would remain as pain-free as it could. Digging deeper, he soon located what he hoped to rediscover later. Arching his back inward, Brian stifled a soft groan as he pushed back against his lover's fingers, his hot breath ghosting across Matt's chest in a rapid succession.
"Ready babe?" the tattooed athlete questioned as he slowly slipped his fingers out of his lover.
"Yeah," Brian panted as he pushed himself off of Matt's chest, retrieving the condom package afterward.
Tearing open the package soon became a daunting task to the guitarist as his fingers continued to tremble profusely. Matt was about to lend a hand when he managed to open it and quickly slipped the latex tube onto his lover's weeping cock. Sliding slightly lower, Brian carefully lined himself up before proceeding to impale himself on Matt's cock. The pain was unimaginable, and he was quickly bartering whether or not he should jerk himself down or not. Halfway through, he agreed with the decision and swiftly drove his hips down, causing a sharp cry to escape his throat, his eyes tightly clamped shut.
"Babe, are you alright?" Matt questioned in blunt concern. "Should we stop?"
"No, no, I'm okay," he quickly replied, bowing his head. "Just give me a minute.
"Take as long as you need babe," the vocalist reassured as he reached up and threaded his fingers through his lover's hair.
After a few minutes pass, the throbbing pain dulls to a slow thrum, which causes the guitarist to slowly move, rolling his hips in a rhythmic cadence. The movements, the sight before him and the tight warmth surrounding his cock soon caused Matt's eyes to roll to the back of his head. A low satisfied moan snaked out of his mouth as his hands slid down to rest upon Brian's undulating hips. After a few moments of establishing a rhythm and vocal refrain, the eager guitarist sped up the tempo, pushing the doppler on the metronome down a few clicks.
A chorus of panting moans soon vibrated forth from Brian's throat as he lifted his arms over his head, tilting his face up toward the ceiling as he curled his arms back behind his head, his long hair cascading over his flexed pectoral muscles. The sight before him caused a low animalistic growl to vibrate in Matt's throat as he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around Brian's neglected cock, pumping the sex organ in a counter cadence to their own. The added pleasure electrified the guitarist's slender body as a higher-pitched orgasmic moan spilled out over his quivering lips. Curling his fingers in his long, obsidian hair, he soon began to softly chant Matt's name in between his building orgasm noises.
"Aah, Matt, I'm so close," he groaned as he rolled his hips, assisting his partner in locating his sweet spot to send him over the edge.
"Hold on just a bit longer babe," Matt growled as he bucked up into Brian's tight heat.
In the immediate seconds that followed, Brian practically screamed as his pleasure center was finally located, his abdominal muscles clenching as he placed his hands down onto the vocalist's chest, electricity crackling along his every last nerve. The quivering soon affected the rhythmic cadence the two had followed since they began, therefore Matt regained control by thrusting up into his lover's writhing body, slamming dead on into his pleasure center again.
"Aah, Matt!" he gasped as he climaxed, painting his lover's abdominal regions with his seed.
"Stay with me Bri," Matt commanded as he bucked up into his exhausted lover's body once more, burying his cock deep into Brian's body as he too climaxed.
A soft whimper escaped Brian's abused vocal chords as he practically collapsed onto the tattooed chest of his intimate lover, his breathing a ragged pant. Shifting slightly the guitarist arched his back slightly to allow for Matt's softening cock to easily slip out of him. Weary from the day, the drive and the passionate sex, Brian managed a lazy yawn before resting his head against Matt's left shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
"Goodnight Bri," the spent bandleader whispered as he gently kissed his partner's head. "I love you."