U-N-I - 1. Part 1 - Chapter 1

It’s 2018. The five of us are sitting in Heathrow airport, waiting to board a plane to New york where we have several interviews to give and a couple of TV shows to shoot for the promotion of our fourth album with U-N-I.

U-N-I, that’s the name we gave to the group we formed over ten years ago. Our lives have been so crazy in the past ten years, sometimes I still have to pinch myself to make sure this is all really happening.

I always knew we would be famous one day. Ever since our first jam session in 2005, I knew we would become the biggest rock band in the world…or I hoped so anyway. To be honest with you, if someone had told me back then that we would become this huge band, I would have had serious doubts about the truthfulness of that statement.

But one can always dream. My father had always told me not to dream. To dream was to be disappointed and it was a waste of time. I learned not to listen to my father though. To me, the power of imagination was priceless and at an early age I was determined to do everything I possibly could to make my dreams come true and to live up to my expectations.

Ok I’m getting a little carried away here but now that you know the end of the story, let’s start with the beginning.

--

I was born in Ireland from a French father and an Irish mother. We lived in the Dublin suburb of Rathmines, a cool suburban alternative to living in Dublin, according to our parents. It had its own high street, cool pubs, bars, restaurants and brilliant vintage shops. There were lots to do and we were not far from the city centre.

Growing up, I had a great group of friends. I couldn’t even remember not knowing them. We had grown up together, started going to school together, practiced the same activities after school, enjoyed the same sports… but mainly, we all loved the same music and we were all playing instruments.

We had always been the best of friends, simply because we lived in the same street. None of us lived far away from each other, although Robbie and I were the nearest neighbours, with Jordan just around the corner. Damon lived only a little further up the street and Dylan moved to the neighbourhood and joined our group of friends when we were around the age of ten. We could walk between all five houses in under five minutes.

None of us were really Irish though. Jordan had Scottish parents who had moved to Dublin for work, Dylan had moved from Southampton in England, and Robbie’s mum was Spanish, and his dad was English. Only Damon had Irish parents. He actually looked the most Irish, fair skin and all. The rest of us had darker skin and we could get a nice tan pretty easily when we went abroad. You don’t get much sun in Dublin.

Jordan was the youngest, and Dylan the oldest, although we were all close in age and over the years, our respective birthdays were always a good excuse to have a party. Dylan was born in january 90, Damon in march, Rob and I were both born a few days apart in May, and finally Jordan in August.

There was also Rachel, who seemed to be the only girl in the neighbourhood who managed to put up with us. She always wanted to hang out with us and play our games. She was a great girl, funny, smart and even pretty. She was our number one fan whenever we’d perform live together. She was part of our little gang. We really liked having her around and when puberty kicked in, she and I had started dating. So, she had been my girlfriend for a couple of years already.

I loved her, and I loved my friends. I couldn’t imagine not having them in my life. I was very close to Jordan, we often hung out together and we loved each other’s company, we would always play music together whenever we hung out. He had acquired a bass and he was a quick learner. I played the piano and the guitar. I was quite musically versatile, but I had learned how to play the piano around the age of seven and I was very good at it, probably because my father was always forcing me to practice, not wanting to spend money on lessons for no results. But since we had begun playing together, I had started playing the guitar and it had become my instrument.

I was always carrying it around, playing it whenever I could really, and I was starting to write songs. I had a very good ear for music, I could find a melody in an instant. I was a bit embarrassed to show the guys, but in school, or in my spare time, I had started writing lyrics as well. It was becoming a habit. Anytime I thought of something, experienced something, or witnessed something, I would try to write about it. I was carrying this notebook with me and just scribbled ideas whenever I could.

Whenever I was not hanging out with Jordan, or with Rachel, you would most likely find me with Robbie, mostly at night. He was my next door neighbour, and he was always, always there for me, whenever things got too tough for me to handle at home. Indeed, to counterbalance with having the best friends I could possibly ask for, I had the worst family. Well maybe not, but it did feel that way to me.

My father was drinking too much, he was out in the pubs every night after work and would always come home late, drunk and often violent. He wasn't beating me up exactly, or even hitting me frequently, although it had happened a few times but the threat of violence was always there.

He would grab my arm a little too roughly, or push me against a wall, or slap my face. He was an angry drinker. Drinking was probably a way of avoiding other issues, such as feeling like a totally useless member of society, going to a dead boring job every day to buy alcohol or cigarettes or if need be, to feed a wife and kids he, from the look of it, didn’t even love, although he was a lot nicer to my brother Thomas and my sister Amy, for some reason. I had made a promise to myself never to be like him. I didn’t want to end up like that. I wanted my life to be exceptional.

The only good thing I had learned from him was French. He was born in France but had moved to Ireland with his parents when he was a teenager. He’d almost never speak to us in English and we had to talk to him in French most of the time or he’d get mad, telling us that we’d never learn if we kept speaking in English. Even between my brother, sister and me we spoke French to each other if he was around. He'd never really managed to teach my mum but despite not really speaking the language, she understood it pretty well so French was the language we usually spoke in the house. It was not the best way to learn a language because it was forced on us but we did learn it.

Unlike my dad, my mum didn't drink, but she was not a very loving mum. I couldn’t really remember her cuddling me as a child. I didn’t feel much loved in my own home.

She was a Christian, not that there was anything wrong with that, but she really had some pretty strong beliefs. She did not seem to be able to make allowances. She followed blindly the dictates of the church and she was very stubborn about it. She had to put up with an abusive husband and a pretty sad life I must add, doing the cleaning, cooking, shopping, taking care of the kids and receiving no appreciation or love for it, and I’m pretty sure that she believed God had intended it that way to make her stronger so she was just putting up with it. She was a strict mother and even though she knew how my dad treated me, she never said anything to him about it. Whenever I complained to her about him, she always told us that God had a plan, and that everything we went through in life had a reason to happen.

Consequently, I didn’t particularly enjoy spending time at home.

Robbie lived in the house right next to mine. Our mothers were friends and had basically given bith a few days apart. Growing up, they kept telling us how they used to put us in the same playpen, so our friendship went way back. I really thought the guys were a pretty amazing bunch of friends, but Rob and I were best friend, and everybody knew that. I really felt the most connected to him, we knew each other so well, we spent so much time with each other, because every time I needed to escape my father when he came home drunk, I went to his. If my parents started fighting, if I had a fight with my brother or my sister, I climbed out of my window or walked out the door and went straight to Rob’s. I used any excuse I could find to leave and go to his place. The peace and love in his house was priceless to me. Rob and his family knew what I was escaping from, I had started doing it at an early age, I must have been only seven or eight the first time I had run to his place in the evening to escape my father’s violent outbursts. I had knocked at the door and Rob’s mother had let me in, comforted me, as if she had known what was happening to me, and asked my mother if I could stay the night because I was too damn scared of going back home.

She knew and understood what I was going through, she was always there to take me in her arms and make me feel special and loved in a way that my parents couldn’t. Over the years, it had become natural, I considered Rob’s mum and dad as my second parents. I’m sure Rob’s mother tried to make the situation better by talking to my mother and after a while it probably became an understanding, my mum would let me slip out of the house leaving me to be cared cared for by someone else. That way she knew I was safe and my dad was just happy that I wasn’t home most of the time. He didn’t have to bother with me.

So, despite spending most of my childhood nights sleeping in my best friend’s bed I always went home after school, after all it was where I was supposed to be; but after dinner though there was always something that would make me want to escape and I often found myself knocking at my neighbour’s door, hoping they would let me stay with them one more time.

It was during one of those nights that my relationship with Rob suddenly changed.

We were eighteen and about to take our leaving certificate. We'd had a pretty long hard day at school and we still had lots of revising to do so that day I didn’t even bother going home; we just left school and went to his place, straight up to his room.

Instead of studying I started going through the new NME magazine that we'd just bought. We just loved talking about music, the bands we admired, the songs we loved. He was also very musical and played the guitar so we’d always play together and I’d show him the melodies I had come up with. We had started composing songs together and he was always supportive and admiring of my song writing abiliities, always telling me I had an incredible talent for it, and that if we ever were to become successful, they would have me to thank.

I had a good voice too, and I loved singing, but so did Rob. He was, however, a lot more confident than I was, I didn’t mind singing behind closed doors but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in front of an audience; Rob, on the other hand, loved performing. He had such a good voice and he brought so most energy and passion into his performance that whenever we played music with our friends he was always the one singing. Plus, it gave him an opportunity to show off, which he just loved to do.

We usually learned how to play songs from The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Queen, The Eagles, Don Mclean, Elvis, Bob Dylan and most especially U2. We were huge fans of them.

After learning how to cover hundreds of songs, it just sort of happened. Just like that. A brand new melody coming out of nowhere. Well it was coming from us, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like it was coming from another place. The songs sort of wrote themselves, and it was an amazing feeling. We were so thrilled to be able to do that and we all really loved playing and writing together. We had spent hours in Damon’s garage, because that was where the drums were, and when we began to realize that we could come up with sounds of our own, it all started to become really exciting.

Damon was definitely sticking to the drums. He didn't have a very strong body and he was quite thin, but somehow, he managed to hit the drums with so much energy and enthusiasm that he had convinced us very early on that he was supposed to be the drummer.

Whenever I wasn’t, Dylan was playing the keyboard. Except for when I was writing songs, I was playing electric and acoustic guitars, Rob too if we needed it, but I felt more comfortable finding a melody on the piano. Jordan was getting to be really good on bass.

Rachel was our groupie, telling everyone how good we were, making sure people would come and watch us play whenever we performed live in pubs and bars.

--

I was still sitting on Rob’s bed when I heard my dad scream from downstairs.

"Mark, if you’re in here, you’d better come home right now!"

"Shit!" I exclaimed, looking at Rob and standing up in a flash.

“What the fuck does he want now?” Rob said as he headed out the bedroom.

I followed him reluctantly and we both went down the stairs.

As soon as I was close enough to him my dad roughly grabbed my arm and tried to throw me out the door.

"Hey, leave him the fuck alone!" Rob shouted at my dad as I passed by him on my way back inside, as there was no way I was going to follow him home and do as I was told, and Rob knew that.

"Excuse me?" he asked him back with an angry voice, looking at Rob straight in the eye.

"I said, leave him the fuck alone!" Rob repeated with confidence, not breaking eye contact. He had deep green eyes, and he could definitely talk with his eyes, there was a light in them, and as he looked straight at my father at that moment, he made him hesitate.

"We were studying, we have exams next week so whatever you want him to do for you tonight, it ain't gonna happen."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! We’re eighteen now, and soon, trust me, he's out of your life forever."

My father just laughed,

"Good luck with that. Why don’t you try to find yourself a job first. Now, let’s go Mark! We’re leaving, we’re invited."

"I don’t wanna go, I’ve got better things to do!" I said to him angrily.

"NOW!" he yelled, and pushed Rob away. But Rob fought back, pushing him out the door.

"He’s not coming with you!" Rob added, with a determined tone of voice.

"What’s going on?" we heard Rob’s mother say as she was just getting home from work.

"Jane, can you please tell your son to respect his elders."

"That’s okay James, Mark can stay here tonight, they need to study."

"Like that’s gonna make them smarter!" he told her nastily then looked over to me and spat,

"Fine, you get to explain to your mother why you didn’t come with us, I didn’t want you around anyway."

I glared at him and he left, giving up on me…again.

I shood my head at what he'd said and turned to Rob’s mother.

"Thanks Jane,” I said. “I have a feeling I would have received a few punches tonight."

She sighed knowingly,

"I’m sorry he’s doing this to you," she said as she came over to me and gave me a quick but comforting hug.

"Come on, you two,” she began saying to change the subject. “go back upstairs and study. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready."

We nodded and went back to Rob's room.

"Fuck, I hate him!' I said as I entered Rob’s room, "I can’t believe you stood up to him like that" I told him, quite impressed.

"I can’t stand this anymore,” he spat. “we’re eighteen. This has gotta stop. You’re staying here from now on, alright? And as soon as we make enough money, you can just leave and never go back!"

"If only that was true."

"It can be. It will be!" he said with confidence in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess,” I smiled coyly.

He came closer to me and gently wrapped his arms around my back. I let him hug me for a moment. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better.

"This isn’t fair,” he spoke with sadness in his voice. “you don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

For a moment, I hugged him back and as usual, it felt comfortable. I felt protected and safe. It lasted a bit too long and I began to pull back, wondering why he wasn’t letting go. As I eased further back, my eyes met his and he gazed at me, but then quickly looked away.

"Well, come on. Let’s study a little and prove your asshole of a father wrong."

We did study and I stayed with Rob’s family again that night. We were all very quiet during dinner, we briefly talked about the upcoming exams and the gig we were going to play on the next day.

Every time I glanced at Rob, it seemed he was already watching me. He kept looking right into me with a reassuring smile, letting me know he was there for me and it felt good. He had a killer smile. It made me feel so much better every time he smiled at me, no matter the problems I had at home, he could just smile at me and the look of happiness on his face would take all of my worries away.

I could always see real understanding and care when he looked at me. He had such great eyes. They were mainly green but there were different shades in them. He sort of had this amazing ability to talk with his eyes. You could read his emotions and feelings just by looking into them. It gave him charisma and confidence…which was the reason why we had all agreed that along with the fact that he had a great voice, he had the personality to be our frontman. People were drawn to him.

He was just a born entertainer. He was great to hang out with. He could make people laugh really easily and he loved being the center of attention. You could never get bored with him. He always had these wild ideas about what to do to entertain ourselves and I gotta say, it got us into trouble more than once. Jordan was a lot like that too. He was the kind of guy who’s always joking around but in a smart way, if you know what I mean.

He was popular at school. All the girls were drooling all over him. Well to be honest, they were drooling over me too, but Rob, I don’t know he’d make them laugh, and he was just so nice and sweet with everyone. He always thought of other people before he thought of himself. Rob just had this capacity to love and show emotions. When we were together, the attention was definitely more directed toward him than me. I’m sure it also had something to do with his eyes. I’m telling you, you could see his soul in those eyes. Girls were attracted to them like moths to a flame.

But even though he was this confident guy out in public, I knew that sometimes he was just putting on a show to not let people know how he really felt, which he still does ten years later. He was really good at that but I could see through him. I think I was probably the only person he felt comfortable enough with to be completely himself. He always acted differently around me. He was shier and more reserved. He didn't joke around as much, he was more serious and sincere and, well, himself. I knew sides of his personality like his doubts, fears and insecurities that few people knew about, probably not even his mother.

And that night, all I could see was how much he cared for me and it was a bit unsettling. I had been feeling a bit weird and awkward around him lately. Something had changed in his attitude. He was overprotective of me. He always wanted to hang out, always wanted me to stay the night, never wanted me to go home. I knew he was worried that something would go wrong with my dad and that I had better stay away from him, but I was starting to feel that there might be more than that.

We went back to his room after dinner but we didn’t study again. We each took a quick shower, played video games for a bit and then a bit of guitar.

“Hey, listen! what d’you think of this riff?” I told him before I played it to him.

“Hehe,” he said with a laugh. “Fucking awesome. When did you come up with that?”

“Just now.”

“Doesn’t it sound a bit like Muse? Sounds like 'Showbiz' to me?”

“Does it?” I asked, playing it again. “Shit! Am I plagiarizing without realizing it?”

He laughed,

“Dunno, just sounds similar.”

“Fuck, whatever, I’m done. I’m knackered,” I said as I put down my guitar and climbed under the bed covers.

Rob picked up my guitar and practiced a couple of U2 songs for a while. I just listened and began to wonder how to ask him what I wanted to ask him.

Again, the whole evening had been weird, we had barely talked to each other but we had done a lot of talking with our eyes, there was a sort of…connection between us that I had been feeling more and more. It was becoming stronger and stronger every day. We never felt the need to talk non-stop when we were together. We always had something to talk about though but sometimes we just hung out silently together. The silence between us was always a comfortable one. It was never awkward.

I was almost beginning to drift off to sleep when Rob joined me under the covers. I turned around and lay closer to the edge of the bed to give him more space. I had my back to him but after only a few seconds, he sort of snuggled up to me. He wasn’t exactly touching me, but he was lying close enough so that I could feel his breath and his body-heat on me, and it felt good. Too good. Sexually good. Once again, I wanted him to press his body harder against mine. I wanted to feel the weight of his body on me. I didn’t move though and I knew he wasn’t going to either, he never did.

I was straight. I was dating Rachel. I was straight I kept telling myself almost every night. I was fucking straight, but I couldn’t help feeling mixed emotions and I couldn’t help being sexually curious when it came to him.

I had been suspecting it for a while now. He wasn’t interested in dating anyone seriously, whereas I was having a pretty serious relationship with my girlfriend. When I was hanging out with her and we couldn’t spend time together, he’d either hang out with our group of friends or, as he’d always tell me, he’d go to Dublin to meet more interesting girls than the ones from our school. I didn’t really have any reasons to doubt that since there were dozens of girls lined up at the end of our performances to talk to him when we played live in pubs.

But I hadn’t met any of them and he kept avoiding the subject with some sort of smart comment whenever I’d try to talk to him about girls. I wasn’t the only one to suspect that maybe he wasn’t straight… so did our friends. But they weren’t as close to him as I was. They weren’t sleeping in his bed almost every night . . . like I was.

I kept telling myself that I was just horny at night like this, I kept wishing that he’d make some sort of move on me. I wanted him to put his arm around me. I wanted him to try and kiss me or touch me, damn, I fucking wanted to have sex with him but I was too afraid to admit it to myself, even less to him.

I knew the main reason why I was feeling this way was that I could feel how much Rob wanted to be close to me, all the time. Just thinking about the fact that he was gay and probably interested in fooling around with me was turning me on.

Once again, my cock began to stiffen, but this time, I decided to do something about it. I took a deep breath as I worked up the courage to actually ask him once and for all.

"Rob?"

"Yeah," he just said.

"You still awake?"

"You know that was just me talking, right?" he joked.

I had to let out a small chuckle as I turned around to face him. I looked into his eyes for a second. "I mean, do you wanna sleep or can we talk about something?"

He frowned slightly. "Well, we can talk. What about?"

"I’m not sure… I just…I just feel…,” I took another deep breath. “Fuck,” I huffed. “You know what, forget it. Let’s just sleep," I said. I couldn’t find the right words and I began to back away.

"No tell me, what is it? I’m gonna make you tell me now anyway," he insisted.

"Ok. Look. I was wondering…like…how do you feel about girls, like, really?" I asked him.

"I…. why are you asking me this?"

"Cause, I dunno. All these girls…,” I began saying, talking about his fans who were all trying to get his attention after our gigs or at school. “You’re not even remotely interested in dating any of them, are you?”

“I’m not,” he confirmed. “Why would I want to date them?” he asked mischievously, probably hoping to make me think he was only interested in fucking them.

“Why don’t you want to date them?" I asked.

"Because it’s too much trouble.”

“Is it?” I asked suspiciously and he looked at me as if he had suddenly understood why I had brought up the subject.

“I just, I just don’t want to,” he mumbled. “I want to focus on the band, I wanna play music and stuff…, I don’t …" and he sighed and stopped talking.

He sat up on the bed and I propped myself up on one arm, facing him. I just looked at him and waited for him to say something or to look at me, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

"Rob, you can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything, I’m your best friend so just say it, it’s alright," I said in a reassuring tone of voice.

Then I sat up and waited. It took a few seconds before he raised his head and his eyes finally met mine. I could see shock and fear in them. I just stared at him and tried to give him strength. He knew what I was waiting for him to say. But he didn’t say anything, and his beautiful eyes began to water.

"You gay?" I asked, but it was not really a question.

He took a deep breath and looked down again. I waited for him to process my question and after a moment he looked up at me and spoke.

"What if I am!" he said with confidence in his voice again.

"I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything. I just wanna know."

He looked away and sighed as he said, "I don’t think I can talk to you about this."

"Why can’t you? We’ve always told each other everything. You can talk to me about this, it’s fine."

"No. This is different. How'd you figure it out?"

I was silent for a moment. I wasn’t sure how to answer without telling him about how I was feeling. I tried to gather my thoughts and answered,

"’Cause you’ve been acting differently around me. You look at me differently, you smile at me differently. You always try to protect me. I feel there’s more closeness when we’re together."

"Alright stop, I get it. I thought I was being more subtle than that."

"I know you. You can’t fool me. I can read you like an open book."

More silence. He wasn’t talking so I tried to make him talk.

"You ever been with a guy?" I asked.

"Yeah," he softly answered.

"Really?" I asked, surprised, now, I was curious. "Who?"

"A few guys in Dublin…”

“Oh…,” I nodded, understanding why he’d go to Dublin by himself and never talk to me about it.

“And you know, Charlie, from school?"

"Charlie, yeah… no way, he’s gay?!" I asked a bit stunned.

"Yeah, very!" he answered, chuckling a little.

My mouth dropped open and I chuckled. I actually thought that was kind of hot, as I pictured them briefly together.

"Damn!"

Rob smiled at me he was starting to relax a little. There was no more fear in his eyes. He could tell that I was ready to hear this and that I was cool with it.

"He doesn’t look gay or act gay at all," I said, still a bit surprised.

"Well, neither do I… "

"That’s true." I looked at him and noticed again how masculine he looked. He had a great body, tanned skin, dark hair, a noticeable six pack and strong arms. His voice was deep and he wasn’t obviously gay in the way he spoke or acted. He was very attractive. And I couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that I did find him so.

As ambivalent as I was about my feelings for him, I couldn’t help but try and talk to him about them. I was nervous and I didn’t know how to go about it. I had already managed to make him come out to me, I wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about the feelings he obviously had for me.

He looked briefly into my eyes, but looked away and sighed, ill-at-ease.

"Is he, like, your boyfriend? I never see you hang out with him."

"No, I never do. We just get together once in a while, it’s just sex. He’s fun."

"I see!" I smiled at him. "Must be hard to keep this to yourself."

He gazed at me and shrugged.

"Do you need a hug?" I said to lighten up his mood.... and to be totally honest, to feel his strong body against mine again.

He laughed slightly. "Sure!" he answered with another slight shrug.

I shifted my body closer to his. He moved and let me wrapped my legs around him. I held him against me and he rested his forehead on my shoulder and sighed. We didn’t move, we didn’t speak a word, we just enjoyed the closeness and again, I felt how connected we were.

After a short moment, he started to hold me tighter and drew my body closer to his. He clung onto me, our bodies quite close to each other, our t shirt covered chests pressing together. I felt his breathing change and I knew he was crying a little.

"Don’t cry, man, it’s okay," I told him reassuringly.

“I know,” he answered with confidence on his voice. “It’s just so hard to talk to you about this.”

I didn’t respond right away. I just continued holding him for a while.

“Why can’t you talk to me about it?” I eventually asked him.

He dried his eyes and and kept his tight grip on me. His breathing returned to normal and he raised his head a little. I felt his lips on my ear.

“Cause I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I love you so much it hurts."

I froze. I hadn’t expected him to be so straighforward. I instantly felt a wave of lust rushing through me ast he whispered those words into my ear.

"I… I know, I kinda figured," I stuttered, unable to say anything else.

He pulled back to finally look at me in the eye. I could see so many emotions in those beautiful eyes of his. It felt more like he was looking into me again. It felt like he was trying to see into my soul, to read my mind, and he said softly,"I know you’re straight. I know I can’t have you. I just don’t wanna lose your friendship. But I had to tell you. Don’t weird out on me okay, please!" he begged.

I placed my hand behind me and pulled away from him a little with a sigh. I wasn't fully hard but I was worried he would notice that I was turned on by what he was telling me.

"I won’t," I promised him. But I knew something would change. Things could not be the same. Because I knew I was going to act on those feelings I had. I was sexually curious, and I felt attracted to him. I briefly thought about Rachel, but I knew she would not find out about this.

"Fuck,” he breathed. “I didn’t know how to tell you this. How d’you feel about it?"

"I dunno. I’ve only just started suspecting that you might be gay… How long have you known?" I asked.

"I think I’ve always known," he answered. "But I guess it became clear to me when I was like ….thirteen. I’ve always been more attracted to boys," he smiled and then added, “I’ve always been….”

He stopped mid-sentenced and stared into my eyes.

I held his stare. "How long have you had feelings for me?" I blurted out.

"Don’t make me say it!" he said as his eyes left mine.

"How long?" I insisted.

"Since I was thirteen," he admitted and I took a deep breath.

"But the last couple of years have been really hard," he admitted.

"And you would let me sleep in your bed, and not say anything?"

"I couldn’t say anything. I was just happy to have you there, even if I couldn’t touch you. I liked having you close to me. I didn’t want to lose your friendship. You’re too important to me,” he paused, "Mark… I don’t want this to make you stop coming over. If you need to get away from your place, please, still come over here. You don’t have to worry about me or what I feel, I’ll get over it. Actually, I’m glad you know. It will make things easier for me, and you can just tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable or if I’m getting too close to you."

He looked at me intensely,

"Promise me!"

I watched him and for a few seconds, I wondered how I could tell him that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want him to keep his hands off me.

Evidently, I felt something for him that was going beyond friendship. I loved him. But I wasn’t gay. … or was I? Did I just want to try? Was this just lust? This could ruin everything between us. What if I was just curious but I realized I didn’t like it. I couldn’t do that to him. Let him have me just once and then tell him that I wasn’t interested.

But I loved him. I had that feeling in my body that told me I would cry a river if I were to lose him. He was my best friend, we knew each other better than we knew anyone else. We shared everything and he meant so much to me. He was someone I could tell everything to, he was someone I could go to when things were too hard to handle at home and I knew there’d be no judgements, just understanding and help.

"Yeah of course, I promise. I still wanna come over here and hang out. I told you, it doesn’t change anything. You’re my best friend, and I …I love you too, you know," I said calmly.

"What?" He asked, a bit taken aback. I think he heard in my tone of voice that I meant more than just ‘I love you as a friend’ "

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, I love you… because … well, I couldn’t even imagine not hanging out with you anymore, there’s just no way. Come on, we’re talking about you and I here. You’re always there for me, I can always count on you. You protect me all the time. And if I’m bringing this up tonight, it’s because I feel… I feel so conflicted about this."

He raised his brows. “You feel conflicted?”

I stayed silent and he waited for me to continue. He could sense I wasn’t finished.

"I don’t think I’m gay. I dunno, I’ve never asked myself that question. But when I’m with you… at night… I don’t know…. I just feel…"

I really didn’t know how to explain it to him. I didn’t even understand it myself. I stopped talking and again, he waited, so I took a deep breath and said,

"I just feel … like I could try things with you… and it wouldn’t be weird!"

I could tell he wasn’t expecting me to say this at all.

"Are you saying you might want to…do stuff,” he asked cautiously.

I rubbed the back of my neck as I answered, "Maybe, I just don’t know. Maybe, I guess I’m just curious. But I don’t want, oh god, I really don't know… " I said, letting my hand fall back onto my lap.

He just stared at me for a few seconds until he said with a lot of confidence,

"You know, let’s be honest here. I’ve been fantasizing about kissing you for almost five years…. You can’t tell me stuff like that!"

I smiled and gazed into his eyes, loving how bright and hopeful they looked at that instant,

"Well… do it if you want!" I responded straightforwardly.

I so wanted to know what it would feel like. The more we were talking about it, the more turned on I was. I wanted to do things with him, I was sure of that, it was all I could think about. I couldn’t even bring myself to think about what it would change between us, or between me and my girlfriend.

He looked at me like I could not possibly be serious.

"Are you for real?" he asked with uncertainty in his voice.

I swallowed,

"Yeah, I’m curious. We can try. I don’t mind," I said, not really sure I meant it.

He looked deep into my eyes again, hesitated for a couple of seconds and then shifted his by closer to mine.

"Well, you know what?" he said, with his usual self assurance, "If I’m gonna ruin everything between us, I might as well take everything I can with me!"

Before I had time to think twice about it, he had wrapped his legs around me again. He placed one hand behind my lower back, the other behind my neck. Then he drew me closer and his lips were on mine.

It felt so electric and goosebumps covered my arms. Another wave of lust rushed through me when I realized what was happening. His tongue played with my lips and his hard body was tightly pressed against mine. I hadn’t expected this. Well, actually, I had thought it might feel like this, but I couldn’t believe I had been right. Fuck, maybe I was gay. That was the first thought that went through my head. But I didn’t care.

He was slightly smiling as he was kissing me, but I wasn’t kissing him back. I didn’t know what to do. It felt so good to feel his lips against mine and I still couldn’t believe how much I liked it. It felt so different to kissing Rachel. There was more pressure, more intensity. He was turning me on so much more.

I felt his tongue trying to push its way into my mouth, as if asking for permission to part my lips, I came back to earth and started to kiss him back. I opened my mouth slightly and let my tongue play with his.

God, I loved it! Kissing him felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was the most natural thing in the world, it felt totally familiar even though we’d never done it before. The kiss was gentle and hesitant at first but when he saw that I wasn’t stopping him and that I was kissing him too, he closed his eyes and drew me even closer to him, if it was even possible. He ran his hand through my hair and kissed me more passionately, my cock stiffened instantly. There was an intensity to the kiss that I had never experienced before.

He pushed his tongue deeper into my mouth, his fingers still running through my hair. I couldn’t believe how amazing this felt. I was rock hard by now and I could feel that he was too. We started moaning as we continued kissing, our crotches rubbing together.

Rob caressed the back of my head with his fingers and then pushed his body hard against mine, forcing me to lie down on my back, him on top of me.

Still kissing, his mouth moved down and he kissed the underside of my chin and traced my jawline with his lips. Then, he placed a few harder kisses on my neck. I was fucking loving it. It felt so good, he felt so good... but I couldn't help but say something, "Wait Rob…. Rob," I repeated.

"Oh no, Mark please, I don’t wanna stop, it feels too good to be kissing you, please, don’t stop me," he begged, pressing his lips against mine again.

"No, I don’t want to stop either," I told him in between kisses, "I just, fuck, it doesn’t feel weird to do this. I kinda knew I might feel like this, but fuck," I repeated as I tried to wrap my heard around the fact that we were making out and that it was fucking awesome.

He looked at me and smiled. Damn, he was so fucking gorgeous when he smiled. His whole face lit up and his eyes were full of passion.

"Don’t overthink it. I’ve been wanting to do this so many times. I didn’t think it'd ever happen!"

He kissed me again, small, long kisses, unable to stop. He eventually started nibbling at my neck again. I loved having my neck kissed. I knew it was a really sensitive part of my body but with Rob it was just ecstacy.

"Ohh fuck yeah!" I moaned. He must have felt my body shivering and quivering because he applied more pressure and made me moan harder. Then he started kissing my whole face, my cheek, my nose, my forehead. When he pulled back, he looked at me, his hand firmly caressed my stomach as he asked, his voice full of need,

"Please take this off!"

I was just wearing a T-shirt and my boxer briefs and so was he. I could feel his cock pressing against me. I pulled my tee over my head in one quick motion. We were both breathing hard and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as he started kissing my chest.

When he got to my nipples, I exhaled and inhaled again, loving the feel of his tongue against them. He made them hard and kept teasing me for a while. I was so turned on, I thought I would cum whether he kept kissing me or not. It was the most intense sexual experience I had ever had. Even my first time with Rachel hadn’t made me feel like this. I knew he could feel it.

He licked his way down, kissed my navel and started pulling down my boxers-briefs.

He was doing all the work, I was just enjoying it. I was in total exstacy. I didn’t know what to do with myself, he was in control. He could do whatever he wanted to with me and that was obviously the way he wanted it. He knew what he was doing when I was totally overwhelmed by what was happening. Although I was loving every second of it.

As soon as he had pulled down my boxer-briefs, he stared at my hard on. It looked like he was mesmerized. He didn’t touch it, just looked at it and then he lay down on top of me, kissing me again softly on the lips. He kissed the side of my face and whispered into my ear again. This whispering thing was really working for me.

"Damn, you’re so fucking hot. I love your body, you’re gorgeous. I can’t believe this is finally happening."

I moaned, even more turned on by his confession and loving the fact that he was so attracted to me. I did have a pretty well-defined and well-developed body, just like him. He had spanish blood from his mother and I had French blood, but I was actually darker than he was. I could get a nice dark tan pretty easily.

He pulled me in for another kiss and looked into my eyes. His eyes were full of love and need. He really wanted me. I could see it, I could feel it, I could sense it. He ran his thumb over my lips and kissed me lightly.

"I’m so attracted to you. It’s always been you. I don’t care about anyone else. Let me show you how much I want you."

He kissed my ear, sending shivers up and down my spine and I felt his hand grasp my rock hard erection. He started stroking me gently and it felt amazing,

"Ohhh, feels so good, I need to cum so bad."

"I know, do you want me to suck you off?" he whispered in my ear, "cause I really wanna do that, I want to taste you," he said.

"Oh fuck yeah, do whatever you want." I breathed, ready for him to do it.

He kissed his way down my body, still smiling and lowered his head to my cock. He stroked it a couple of times and licked the head gently before swallowing half of it. His mouth felt so good, moist and warm around it. I could not believe I had my cock in Rob’s mouth, the thought and the sight of it almost sent me over the edge but I tried to hold back. He held it tightly in his mouth and started sucking on the head, licking all the precum. I was so fucking turned on, I was leaking pretty bad.

Then he started wetting my whole erection with his tongue and took the head again in his mouth and started going down on it, moving his head up and down. He was holding the base of my cock with one hand while caressing my navel with the other. I moaned and started to play with his dark hair. He took the head between his lips and sucked again, it felt so amazing, I knew I was not going to last much longer. He started sucking me faster, bobbing his head up and down, taking my cock as far as he could in his mouth without gagging, when he relaxed his throat and took me down to the base. I moaned so hard. He pulled up and did it again.

"Oh fuck," I moaned hard. "Uggg, so guys really do give better head than girls!"

He let out a laugh,

"I’m good at this!"

He took his hand away from my stomach and started playing with my balls. He swallowed them into his mouth one by one, making me quiver, and then he resumed sucking my shaft, easily taking it down his throat a few more times. He was indeed really good at this and I could only moan.

I could tell that he was stroking himself as he was blowing me and his moans became hotter and shorter. He let my cock slip out of his mouth and began jacking it furiously. That was it for me.

"Rob, fuck, I’m gonna…..ughhhhhh." He wrapped his mouth around the head again and a wave of pleasure stronger than I had ever felt before swept over me and I started cumming hard, moaning and shooting my load like I had never shot it before.

Rob kept his mouth tight around it through the whole orgasm and swallowed my jizz. I could hear him moan louder as he came himself, my cock still in his mouth.

He continued sucking on me long after I had stopped cumming and then he licked me clean thoroughly. It didn’t seem like he wanted to let go and I didn’t want him to stop either. I loved feeling his mouth on my cock even if my orgasm had subsided. He stroked it a few more times, then came back up, lying next to me. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds until I decided to break the silence.

"Damn," I told him with a sigh. "that was, wow!"

"So, how did you like it?" he asked, letting out a small giggle.

"A bit too much I think," I said, laughing a little.

We lay side by side until he turned on his side, placed his leg on top of mine and snuggled closer to me. He kissed me again on the cheek,

"Man, I can’t believe you swallowed it!"

"Hey, I want everything you’ve got," he said and I smiled, looking briefly into his eyes.

"How you feeling?" he asked me.

"Pretty good. I’m not freaked out if that’s what you mean… you?"

"I’m…," he began saying, “look, I don’t know what this means to you, and I don’t care right now. I’m just glad it happened. It was everything I'd imagined it'd be."

I let out a small chuckle and turned on my side to face him. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can explain what it is about you that makes me so…”

“so…?” he asked with curiosity.

I stared at him and said,

“Hard as hell…”

He laughed,

“I make you hard?”

“Like you haven’t noticed it,” I said sexily.

“Well…dude, we’re eighteen, I mean, I’m hard all the time, especially with you, always looking all gorgeous and perfect as fuck!”

I smiled at what he’d said,

“So you’re gay, uh?”

“Yep. Full blown gay,” he confirmed with a laugh, “not even slighty interested in fucking a girl!”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Shit!” I said with a heavy sigh.

He laughed,

“Shit.... my best friend’s gay? Or shit… I had gay sex with my best friend and I liked it?”

“You know which one it is.”

“Don’t overthink it, it was just fun. Doesn’t make you gay.”

“Doesn’t it?” I asked, skeptically, rolling over onto my back.

He shushed me and began caressing my chest and stomach. He did that for a moment and I could tell how much he loved touching me.

"Damn, I love touching you," he sighed and I smiled at him.

"Why do you love me so much?" I asked. I could tell he was surprised by my question.

He gathered his thoughts and kept running his fingers over my skin as he said,

"’Cuz you’re you. And I love you. You’re perfect. Everytime you speak, every move you make, I can’t believe how much I love you. I can barely stand it, your smile, your laugh, everything, I love everything about you!" he said and kissed my cheek briefly.

"Damn, how could you keep your feelings to yourself for so long?"

"I dunno, I was too young, I guess. And I wasn’t that good at hiding my feelings, you saw through me."

"What are we gonna do?" I asked, unsure about everything.

"I don’t know. We don’t have to do anything. I’m not asking you to be gay for me, or to break up with Rachel. But if you want us to be together once in a while, I’m here, whenever you want. I won’t tell anyone."

"D'you think I’m gay? Is this why you fell in love with me, you felt something?" I asked him.

I was already starting to think about all that it would change in my life….my relationship with Rachel, with my parents. It all seemed too complicated. But I couldn’t deny how I felt for him. I had to be at least bisexual I thought.

"Maybe,” he answered. “You’re… I don’t know, you’re so special. You’ve always been. There’s just something about you I’ve always loved. You’re so talented and artistic and sweet. Maybe you’re gay, maybe you’re not. Time will tell. I don’t care. I mean, I’d love it if you were. But it’s up to you. You really don’t have to put a name on it. I didn’t for a long time. I know what I want, I want to be with you, but I can’t ask you…" he didn’t finish his sentence, "You’re too confused about it for now."

I sighed,

"Well, I loved what just happened. And I don’t feel weird about it. That must mean…"

"It doesn’t matter."

"I knew I wanted this to happen. I kinda figured I'd enjoy it!"

He smiled and gave a small laugh,

"Five years damnit! You couldn’t have realized it sooner?"

I just shrugged.

"Well, it was worth the wait!" he added.

I laughed too.

"Just promise me something!" he said seriously.

"What?"

"Whatever happens between us, we won’t let it get in the way of the band, or of our friendship. We have to make this band work, for the five of us, and it has to remain our main priority."

I smiled, because the band was my priority too,

"Yeah, of course, we have to."

Although I knew that whatever would happen, it’d have some kind of impact on the future of the band.

It was getting late, so we got under the covers and he did what I had secretly wanted him to do so many times. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight against him as we drifted off to sleep a lot faster than I thought we would, considering what had just happened…. But then again, we were always so comfortable around each other, this time was no exception.