Even Those Rules Given Down by the Gods
Without seeming to, discretely and from across the crowded club, he watched Tommy with his too-soft-for-his-taste-anyway brunette, he had been for awhile, watching as he trailed his fingertips down along her throat causing her to move into his touch, watching as he gripped his fingers back up through her hair causing her to close her eyes and murmur words only he could hear, watching as he smiled far too close to her willing mouth, eyes fixed on each other. But no kissing, nothing else, not here anyway, all that would come later, later when they were alone. Fuck. Alone.
Tommy, finally catching him watching, gave him a languid smile, a lazy left-handed wave, both of which he acknowledged with a slight nod of his head, couldn’t do anything else really then watch them leave together, couldn’t do anything else to keep him from walking away with her. Ignoring the people clustered around him, turning back toward the bar, in answer to the bartender’s question of, ‘The same?” shaking his head, he said, “Not on the rocks this time, Terry, Jameson straight, thanks.” Glass in hand, taking a much needed swallow, Adam turned and scanning the still crowded club, no longer passively watching life go on around him, turning his thoughts instead to the thrill of the hunt, he was determined that he wouldn’t, as he had for far too many nights already, spend another one alone.
Warm between the million thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, he stretched idly if with purpose, focusing on making each muscle group taut with that kind of tremor-runs-through-you intensity that always caused him to sigh, before finally relaxing back down into the almost-too-soft bed so he could more comfortably watch her dress: the point really. Early morning light, made mellower still by the translucent shade covering the 20th floor window, drifted over her, painting her light brown skin with a rosy-pink glow as she slowly pulled on her laced-edged Victoria Secrets: first her black ‘Body by Victoria’ panties, next her equally black ‘Very Sexy’ push-up bra, taking her time. The slight flash-smile that danced over her lips just before lowering her eyes, told him that she was pleased with the way he was watching her and knowing that pleased him.
Once done, when her one-size-too-small t-shirt, her low-ride skinny jeans and her surprising practical Converse shoes were once more where they belonged, she slowly, meaningfully walked the short distance that separated them and kneeling beside the bed, the need for one last touch evident in her eyes, she stroked red nail-polished fingertips through his gone-wild hair and cooed. “Uhmm, I just wanna, you know, thank you for last night, well, for this morning really, I had a great time, an aMAzing time and I…I just, I don’t know, I just--”
“Hey,” Tommy soothed, “I did too, honest.” She lowered her eyes again so, with fingertips gently held under her chin, he brought her eyes back to his. “I did. I had a great time, too.”
“Yes, really. An a…MAY…zing time. Really.”
“Well then, I’m…glad. Really. And listen, thanks again for the lipstick. I never would’ve bought such an incredible shade for myself. I love it. I just hope it looks half as good on me as it does on you, y’know? And, seriously, I will treasure it forever.”
“Just remember, Sutan told me that this stuff kind of goes bad after like maybe a year. So, you might--”
“How about, after a year, I make it into my very own lucky charm, my talisman; my…whatever ya call it, to be taken with me wherever I go. Always.” And clasping her hands together around the little black MAC lipstick tube held close under her chin, she pretended to swoon.
“Sounds good,” he chuckled, and pulling her into him, giving her a tender good-bye kiss, he then let her go. Lying back in the pillows, knowing that this part could get a little messy sometimes, he was relieved when she stood to leave. “Please, no twitter, no Face--”
“I know, don’t worry, you don’t have to worry; I won’t tell a soul…promise. No pics anyway, right? so, who’d believe me? And anyway, I’d never betray you. Well, I guess I’ll uhm…I should just let myself out?”
“Again, sounds good,” he sighed.” Then, pulling the seriously soft sheet under his chin, yawning while watching as she walked away from him, when finally at the door, he blew her one last kiss, as Sara, with a slight nod of her head, softly closed the door behind her. Relieved on hearing it safely click locked, finally able to relax knowing that it would be at least a couple of more hours before his wake-up call, softly moaning as he scrunched even further into the fat down pillows, tugging the sheet even higher over himself, he slept.
His last thoughts were of wondering why was it that these freakin’ hotel sheets were always so much more soft than the ones he could get at home, of wondering how difficult could it be to find someone who could get him some all for his very own, of wondering if maybe Adam wouldn’t agree that they were, softness-wise, beyond even that of the clouds or…whatever? Ahhh, Adam. Shit shit…Adam.
Tensing a little in his downy cocoon, so slight a reaction, so common an occurrence that he barely even noticed anymore, he finally allowed himself to wondered just who’d been the lucky fuck Adam had brought back with him last night. Because hadn’t there been like a zillion after- party club boys for him to literally take his pick of? Or…was it even possible…that he could’ve maybe gone back to his room alone?
The very idea caused his last actual thought to be more of a disgruntled who-the-fuck’s-kidding-who? snort at wondering just where, in his over-tired brain, he’d manage to dig up such a stupid, unbelievable idea, the product, obviously, of nothing more than wishful thinking. Something he was going to have to take control of or, better yet, get rid of completely if he was going to make it through the rest of this tour without making a complete ass of himself. Which would be kind of nice, all things considered.
Backed into a dark corner, head down, shoulders tense, eyes hair-shielded yet focused, he watched Adam strut. Earlier, paying even more attention to him on stage than usual, kissing him twice, humping him a little too long, grabbing hard onto his hair more time than he could even remember and now, all during the after-party being seriously predatory, Adam was definitely getting himself laid and, man, by the look of them, he could have anyone in this freakin’ hotel bar he wanted. ANYone. Not surprising, no way surprising, so used to it by now because, wasn’t it always the same? Adam did what he did to him on stage and then pretty much ignored him, flirting it up with, chatting-it-up with, actually rubbing up against and-or majorly eye-fucking everyone at every after-party always. Except him and that just wasn’t cool. Singling him out for blatant disinterest just wasn’t cool.
And because why? Oh yeah, how could he ever forget why? Because, wasn’t it all about the boundaries, all about the FREAKIN’ rules Adam had issued at the very beginning of this little adventure of theirs in order to ‘keep things cool?” Always always about the fucking difference between on-stage and off, between ‘For Their Entertainment” and real life, riiiiight? Fuck yeah, right. But know what? Fuck that. Soooo…fuck that. All up in his business every night, night after freakin’ night, but whenever in a room full of glittery beautiful men…wait-what?...whenever in a room full of anybody even semi-pretty-boy like, Adam could not be bothered to notice he was alive, could not EVEN be bothered. Well, guess what? He was alive so fuck that. Draining the last of his 3rd - or was it his 4th? - whisky, making his way to the safety of Monte, he said, “In case anyone should ask, I’m heading out,” and he turned to leave.
Turning back, he sighed, “Man, I don’t know, alright? I’ve got like a headache or…something coming on. I don’t know. Maybe…ok, maybe I have had little too much to drink…do not smirk at me, Monte, just…don’t. It’s maybe…too many people, maybe… too much noise, maybe…too much whathefuckever. Take your pick, alright?” Then, flashing Monte a quick smile, turning one last time, with his eyes focused ahead and hearing no further interruptions, he did his own kind of strut straight out of the room.
Adam found him punching at the elevator button, said, “You okay? Why you leaving? Monte was all worried--”
“I’m just tired, Adam, alright with you?” Fortunately, the elevator doors opened then, allowing him a near quick-escape. “Look, sorry,” and briefly holding the door, he said, “I‘m tired, ‘k? I just need some sleep. Have fun, know you will. Maybe I’ll--”
“Look,” Adam said, grabbing at the closing door, concern clear on his face, “since we have tomorrow off, why--”
“No…no, I’ve got something I need to do, sorry,” and stepping toward Adam quick and hard causing him to let go of the door, he then moved to the back of the elevator, back up against the wall, feeling a weird sense of satisfaction at the confusion that flashed over Adam’s face just before the elevator doors closed, knowing for fact that he sure-as-shit wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what the hell was going on with them. Except, that was a lie because he did know, being honest with himself, he really did know just what the hell was going on. But knowing ‘the what’ not only didn’t help matters any, knowing ‘the what’ only made everything just that much more fucked.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d take care of his own business and then, pressure off at least for awhile, everything could go back to normal. Scrubbing his fingers through his hair, closing his tired eyes, Tommy let the elevator do its job, taking him up and away, far away, from Adam and all the pretty party-boys below.
Pocketing the address, for the moment still more without than within, more a part of the late afternoon’s warmth outside than the unfamiliar bar’s cool interior, he hesitated at the door, still a little unsure. Finally resolved to do what he’d come to do, what he should have done a long time ago, he walked through the doorway immediately savoring, immediately being comforted by that very same cool darkness that, only seconds before had caused him to hesitate. Allowing his eyes to adjust, finding, heading straight for the bar, which since it was still early yet had only a few patrons seated along its polished wood surface, taking a seat along with the others, ordering a whisky, he casually surveyed the small, well-maintained club and after an hour of unobserved observation, Tommy was relieved to have found just who he was looking for.
Draining the last of his 2nd whisky, not a night for getting drunk, leaving the safety of his bar stool, circumventing the dance floor, side-glancing at the few wrapped-around-each-other couples slow-dancing, he finally arrived at his destination table. Catching the eye of the one he wanted, holding out his hand, he said, “Dance?” He stopped holding his breath, started breathing easily again when, as the young man stood, when, as he reached out to take Tommy’s hand, a soft sweet knowing smile drifted across his face. He knew that in the young man’s smile he’d found the answer to an only half-formed question weighing on his mind. Already, in the space of only a few seconds, his half-formed question was asked and answered, and all this was done with the exchange of only one word and one smile. Sweet.
Shivering, Jaxon’s lean body was shivering, near pulsing with pleasure, arching away from Tommy and toward the headboard, his stomach just touching its elegant black wood, his elbows planted firm on its flat-topped surface, arms, palms pressed flat against the wall above, fingers spread wide, clenching, unclenching, scratching at the pale beige wallpaper, his head thrown back.
Tommy’s two lube-slicked fingers, still warm from flexing, curling inside the softness of Jaxon’s body, moved out and up, up along his taut, flushed back, smoothed over, around his slim right hip, dragged upward, across his sweat covered chest and finally reaching his left shoulder, gripping him, Tommy secured Jaxon back against himself.
Moaning his frustration at the sudden emptiness, Jaxon squirmed his hips thrusting back, in desire, in annoyance, insistent, begging, pleading with him to fuck him. “Come on come on please please just…” The silken threads of Jaxon’s murmured lust wove around Tommy’s ear, Jaxon’s urgency finding, hitting its mark right where it should, at the base of Tommy’s cock.
Nuzzling Jaxon’s neck, mouthing his throat, licking up along his jaw to his half-opened mouth, Tommy whispered, “now,” growled, “now,” and pushed. Bearing down on him, opening up to him, allowing him inside, Jaxon was for a moment, perfectly still, no longer shivering, no longer pulsing, he was completely owned, completely taken, as “aaaaah yes,” hummed from somewhere deep inside him
Minutes passed, seeming hours, eons of time spent fucking before Tommy, his face buried in Jaxon’s hair, watched as flashes of soft black specked with yellow danced behind his squeezed shut eyes, the power and swell of his orgasm overtaking him, claiming him. The motion of Jaxon’s hand on his own cock brought Tommy back to his senses; the sounds of Jaxon’s mewing as he came centered him. And then quiet. Dropping down to the bed with the covers pulled high over them, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jaxon asked, “I can stay?” “Yeah, you can,” Tommy answered. Sleep soon found them both, at least for awhile.
Stepping out of the elevator, glancing around, Adam soon found his way to Tommy’s room because enough was enough. Turned off cell, emergency-only hold on his room phone, no communication of any kind for their entire day and night off, he hadn’t even bothered to join everyone for breakfast. And, as if all of that weren’t enough, there was a prominently displayed Do Not Disturb sign in his room’s keyless entry slot. None of this added up to how Tommy had been playing the game, it all went against the understanding that had been established between them, so all that could only add up, in his mind anyway, to something he needed to deal with. And, seriously, that was all any of this was about, him being simply and reasonably concerned; him being The Good Boos by looking out for one of his band members, him just keeping Tommy’s best interests at heart.
Such was his justifications, his reasons why it wasn’t weird that he now found himself standing in front of Room 502, even if realizing, when he allowed himself to look objectively at the situation, that maybe his justifications, his reasons why, were just a little weak. Maybe not, but…maybe.
So he hesitated, his hand raised to knock, needing just a little more self-convincing, finally realizing that it actually wasn’t like Tommy to completely take himself off the grid; to totally hide himself away for 30 plus hours and that he simply had no other choice then to intrude on his time, when suddenly, he heard the sound of something or someone slamming against the other side of the door causing him to step back, causing his adrenalin to ramp, his heart to race. Moving forward, he listened for more, for other sounds, for some kind of conformation of what was going on inside Tommy’s room and what he heard were voices, the sound of people chuckling then silence. Silence on their side, silence on his.
So Tommy did have a woman with him, he had gotten his skinny ass laid, that was all, and they were just saying their good-byes. This realization not only explained everything, it made him feel a little intrusive, a little over-protective and maybe just a little jealous, which obviously made him feel a little stupid. So why was he still standing there, eyes fixed on the brass 502 mounted on the otherwise blank hotel room door? And why the fuck was he still listening?
Knowing he should leave and quick, turning, looking back down the long hallway getting his bearings, in that moment he heard the door’s interior lock being undone so, with very few options available to him, Adam took quick cover in the vending machine room conveniently located very nearly directly across the now seemingly endless hallway from Tommy’s room. The vending machine room’s half-opened door allowed him a way to hide if he wanted, which he definitely did, and its small wire-reinforced window allowed him a way to watch if he wanted, which he was pretty sure he didn’t, but who knew? Soon Tommy’s mysterious woman would be gone; soon he could go back to his room unobserved, soon he could put this whole silly episode behind him no one any the wiser. Ducking his head, closing his eyes, caught between the door and a wall that slightly vibrated with the vending machines humming, he leaned forward, he listened and he waited.
Tommy’s voice soon found him, drifting diagonally across the Persian-esque carpet and around the vending machine room door, directly into his ear, unfiltered. “Jaxon, don’t please, I--”
”I know, you had a great time, a wonderful time, I was fantastic, you’ll never ever for--”
“Stop.” And he did, Tommy’s mysterious man stopped talking and Adam had to look, felt compelled to see what was going on because whatthefuck? What The Fuck. From his immediate vantage point, he could only see Tommy, facing down the hallway, wrapped around his doorjamb, straddling it as if humping it, half in, half out of his room, using his body to keep the door from shutting and locking him out. “You understand. You told me you under--”
“Yeah, I do. Of course I do.” Adam shifted as little as possible so he could see him, a small, sweet-faced, shaggy haired redhead who was just out of Tommy’s reach and who was quietly moving first one way then another, slow-dancing in the middle of one of the Ritz Carlton’s elegant hallways, dealing with his nervousness as best he could. “Man makes you crazy, so you find your own way of dealing with it. Makes sense.”
“Of course it makes sense. Absolutely it makes sense. But see? you need to understand something too.”
“Wait, don’t. I…What I don’t understand how this all got so messed--”
“You don’t? Like what, this has never happened to you before now? “Of course you understand. No? Then let me explain. It’s Time…For Me…To Leave, Tommy, and surprise, surprise, I really don’t want…I don’t….FUCK.” Head thrown back, looking at the ceiling, he sighed, “So, let me talk ‘cause you need to understand something, k? That while you may have gotten away with this tactic this time, next time you might not-- if by ‘might not’ I mean WON’T – be so fortunate. Next time, if I were you, I wouldn’t count on being so fortunate.”
“Do not even interrupt me, man, I am talking here. Because while I don’t know who sent you to ‘Charlie’s’, whoever did took good care of you by getting you to us, okay? Probably the only safe club for you in this entire city, I kid you not.. If your Bossman’s driving you crazy, you gotta deal with that, but not externally by fucking club boys who will undoubtedly get all hung-up on you, and yeah, you heard me right, so sue me. Plus you do realize, right? that eventually one of us is gonna talk…blab…blab…blab. Instead, what you gotta do is deal with situation internally--”
“…by dealing with him directly.
“You don’t understand--”
“The hell I don’t, I read the freakin’ media. And anyway, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, what worth having in life really is? blah…blah…blah, but you have got to make him understand because this,” – he indicated with a graceful swoop of his arm, a elegant wave of his hand, what ‘this’ really is, one-night hook-ups with anonymous men in anonymous hotels -- “this shit is not going to work for you for very much longer -- if by ‘very much’ I mean ANY longer -- and then where will you be? Up shit’s creek without a paddle is where you’ll be and that’s just not cool. No, not cool.” Then silence. His words stopped even if his dancing hadn’t, twisting and turning, right then left, back then forth, the boy just kept on dancing, a slow rhythmic bundle of nerves right on the edge.
“Look, Jaxon, I’m sorry--”
“Don’t be sorry, I knew, I knew--”
“Please, just come back,” and Tommy stretched out his arm, held out his hand, asking.
“Nah.” He stopped dancing then. “I don’t want you to get hurt, see?” his head slightly cocked, his eyes riveted on Tommy’s. “I don’t want you to get hurt, understand?”
“No,” pouting, he glanced around, “we’re already pushing the fates waaay to--”
“Jaxon, wait, don’t…don’t move, I’ll be right back,” and for a second Tommy disappeared back into the semi-darkness of his room, returning almost immediately with a backpack to prop open the door, but as quick as he was, he wasn’t quick enough, it was too late. Jaxon was already running, bolting toward the stairwell Exit door, in fact, was already near it…at it...opening it.
Adam heard the door bang shut, heard Tommy yell, “NO, don’t.” But he was gone. By the time Tommy got to the Exit door, Jaxon was gone. Adam would have known even if he hadn’t positioned himself so he could see because he was able to feel Tommy’s anger and frustration when he slammed his fist against that metal door, was able to hear his pain and confusion when he cursed “Jaxon, fuck…no.” Adam stopped looking then, he leaned back against his slightly vibrating wall instead, understanding that he’d already seen far more than he should ever have seen. Silently pleading with Tommy to go back into his room and stay there, Adam waited.
When he saw him next, he did disappear into his room, but was just as quickly back out of it, walking straight toward him, ice bucket in hand, mumbling, “I don’t give a shit how early it is, I need a drink.” Adam suddenly realized that where there was an ice-machine, there were vending machines and where there were vending machines, at least in this scenario, there was him. Busted, so busted and with no way out.
Taking a deep breath, stepping out from behind the vending machine room’s door, the big reveal, just as Tommy was near him, just as Tommy saw him, wild dark anger in his eyes, eyes no longer chocolate brown but coal-dust black, he barely registered it as the ice bucket ricocheted off his chest, clattering to the floor, even as he was fully aware of Tommy’s snarled, “Fuck you.”
Tommy bolted then, he became Jaxon running, while Adam become him chasing except Adam succeeded where Tommy had failed, caught up with him at his door, wrapping his arms around him, nearly lifting him off the carpet, but Tommy was strong, especially when pissed, embarrassed, confused, hurt. Determined, he struggled free, trying to push him away, still snarling, still dark-eyed, still fighting, fighting to get his door shut, but no luck, no use. They both ended up inside the room because instead, Adam pushed Tommy hard back toward the bed and stepping in behind him, locked the door from the inside.
“Get…thefuck OUT.” Tommy stood, legs apart, window-silhouetted across the room from him, visibly trembling. “I said--”
“I heard you, Tommy.” Quiet, so quiet, he kept his voice so quiet. Leaning back against the door, eyes closed, he tried to calm his thoughts.
“Then, why the hell are you--?”
“Is it true...what he said?” Pushing off from the door, looking him in the eye, going straight for it, nothing to lose now, Adam asked again, “Is what he said true, Tommy Joe?”
Tommy swayed, leaning a little as if into an oncoming wind, slightly stunned. He turned facing the window, arms pulled into his sides, his legs, his feet planted, head bowed, a sighed, “Shit,” his only answer.
“Tommy?” Moving just a step or two closer, aware, focused, knowing that at any moment, Tommy could…what? Dissolve? Lash out? Fling himself against the window? Tommy could do what? “Talk to me.”
Time went still until finally, turning to face him, slowly, almost as if in water, with heavy limbs and a resigned walk, Tommy came toward him, eyes unfocused, too calm, too reconciled, too something Adam didn’t understand. And when at last in front of him, when at last looking up at him, when Tommy said, “Yes…truth. What matter?”
He was startled, said, “It matters.”
“How? How does it matter, Adam?” Calm, so calm, Tommy’s words were too fucking calm. “Rules are rules, right? Made not to be broken, right? They are set in stone, handed down by the fucking gods, to be obeyed, so listen, I’ll…I’ll just leave because he’s right, I can’t keep doing this--”
“No, no no, you’re not--”
Shouldn’t be too hard to find--”
“Listen to me.” Taking Tommy’s face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs up along his throat, pushing his chin up, his mouth up toward his own, Adam said, “You are not leaving; I’m not replacing you, like I even could. Tom--”
“They’ll get used to someone else, soon enough, you’ll see. So will you. Won’t take very long to find--”
“The fuck they will and not the point because I won’t. I don’t want anyone else, I want you. I don’t need anyone else, I need you. Understand? Understand me. Please.” Watching Tommy, he witnessed the slow sweet spread of realization as it came over him, knowing that his lust, his passion, his need for him, was finally understood
Adam watched as Tommy finally understood that rules, even those set in stone, even when originally written for all the right reasons, when no longer necessary to protect an easily damaged heart, to divert a constantly aching need, can be broken.
Tommy finally understood that rules, even those given down by the gods, even when agreed upon to maintain the needed distance between them, when no longer necessary to create a false illusion to satisfy a skeptical world, should be rewritten
“Hear me, when I tell you, Tommy, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
The slow sweet smile that spread across Tommy’s face told Adam that he had finally understood that rules set in stone actually can be broken and that even the gods can be persuaded to change their minds.