Confide/ant - 10. Chapter 10

“You’ve been playing those three transitions over and over for the last twenty minutes.”

“Longer than that,” Leon replies for me. “I feel like I’ve been hearing bits of that for weeks. What are you working on?”

I glance up from my Bobtail Resonator, the fingers of my left hand still holding an A-minor as the tune dies, and I kick my journal closed with the toe of one shoe. I had this end of the common room to myself, and I’ve been playing around with the chorus long enough that I hadn’t noticed the others turning up.

“We missed you at sound check.” Jerome sits heavily across from me tapping his knee with his sticks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without drumsticks in his hand.

I glance across at Leon with a frown.

“You never told me we had sound check this morning.”

“We were mostly just tracking drums.” Aaron rolls his eyes at Jerome. “You’ve gotta get it together, dude. You were all over the place.”

“Fuck you man, you’re the one stomping all over the rhythm section. Just stand at the back and play G like a good bassist should, eh?”

“You wanker.” Aaron throws a book at our drummer, which ends up smacking me in the shoulder. “Sorry, Marty.”

“You should apologise for murdering the second riff in ‘Black Eyed Boy’, that’s what you should do.” Leon claps me on the shoulder with a smile. “We’ll do a full run through next week after radio, OK?”

“Sure…” My brain catches up with my ears. “Wait, what?”

Leon is grinning broadly, every inch our cocky front man.

“We’re gonna lay it down as the demo.”

“I thought we we’re gonna do ‘Dukes’?” Leon has been planning the recording and release of our demo for months, and ‘Dukes’ is the big crowd-pleasing song whenever we play a gig. It’s also the one we’ve practised the most, and while Jerome is a great drummer, I didn’t make it easy on him, or the rest of us, when I wrote the charts for my favourite song.

“You really weren’t paying attention at the gig were you, Marty?” Leon jerks his head and I get up, sling the Bobtail over my shoulder and follow him to the private practice rooms. “The song is killer, I think it’s our best shot.” He glances at me sideways, and I’m not used to Leon looking so serious. “You’re alright with that, right?”

“Of course.” I shiver nervously, and try not to flinch when Leon’s hand lands on my shoulder.

“I love those lyrics, but it’d be nice to know what I’m singing about.”

My heart is in my mouth, my throat full of spikes, and my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out. For a horrible, terrible second, I feel that Leon must know or he wouldn’t have asked, and he certainly wouldn’t have taken us off in private to have this conversation. The fact that I wasn’t invited to the band’s sound check session this morning makes me ever more nervous. I hate that they might have been talking behind my back. Just then, my phone buzzes, and I swallow audibly as I check the message.

Just GTFO world’s most boring lecture. Come mk my day btr. Bthrms 2nd floor

“Girlfriend keeping you busy, Marty?”

“Huh? What?”

“C’mon, man, I know you’ve got someone in your life.” Leon shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “After all, it’s not like anyone could miss every hickey this wildcat’s been giving you.” He takes the opportunity to pull the neck of my shirt aside, and sure enough; Hrishi’s lips have left a dark and prominent mark on my skin claiming me as his, and there’s another Leon can’t see under my left pec which hurt like a bitch. In the privacy of my bathroom at home, I love looking at them, but now, I blush and pull away from my best friend.

“Leave it.”

“You’re not embarrassed are you, Marty? Fuck, you must be the only guy I know not bragging about getting lucky.” He sticks his hands in his pockets with a slouch. “I always figured y’know, you’d tell me when you found someone. We’ve been friends a long time bud. You can trust me.”

I don’t know if I can trust him with this, but he looks so earnest, and I nearly tell him. A girl from the brass band comes around the corner, and the moment is broken. I smile at my best friend.

“My life isn’t nearly as interesting as you think it is.”

“Uh-huh.” Leon gestures to the guitar on my back. “That your solo piece?”

“Yeah.” I can’t help, but smile. It’s not complete, but there’s a great feeling in the music when I play it. “I figured I’d go with the Resonator, get a more rounded sort of sound. Might end up a little bit country.”

“I’ll buy you a cowboy hat for your big début,” Leon ruffles my hair with a grin. “I figured you were going to go all folk on us. I’ve been hearing a lot of Jethro Tull coming outta your headphones lately.”

My phone vibrates in my hand, but I don’t need to check it to know Hrishi is waiting for me. I don’t want to disappoint him.

“I gotta go, Leon.“

“Yeah, whatever man.” Leon looks disappointed. “I’mma gonna get the truth out of you one of these days, Marty. See you for soundboard later.”

I don’t stop to stow my guitar in my locker, but run with my lyric journal in one hand over to the main building, practically crashing into some artsy first year carrying a sketch book bigger than she is, and I skid up the stairs in my rush to make it to the bathrooms to the second floor. When I get there, it’s not empty.

Hrishi is nowhere in sight, but there’s a locked stall, and two guys at the urinals. One look at them shows me they are the sort who hate having to spend an extra two years in education, and they sneer at my coloured hair and the guitar on my back. Clearly, I try far too hard.

“What?” one of them snaps in an irritated but gormless tone. My arrival has obviously interrupted some deep theological conversation they were having in grunts. “Fuck are you looking at?”

It’s usually best not to answer. Flushed from running from the music block, I take a deep breath and hook my thumbs in my pockets. It takes all of two seconds for my gesture to be misread.

“You think you’re so much better than us, that it?”

I do, but that’s hardly the point. I frown, but I don’t get a chance to respond.

“Like that fucking little faggot,” the other one spits, “walking around with his brown nose in the air like he’s superior.”

Something in the back of my brain snaps as I realise they are talking about Hrishi. I don’t really hear much else of what they say, and my vision is blurred as they laugh and joke with each other, finishing off and zipping up. The one of them who spoke first knocks my shoulder as he makes to leave.

“Fuck are you still standing there for, guitar boy? What, you a sissy little shit who needs showing his proper place too, are you?”

All my abilities to use language flee before my rage. I can’t find a verbal response, but this guy is a stain on the atmosphere I breathe. Without thinking about it, I haul off and punch him square in the bridge of the nose. My hand hurts instantly―it was the same one I punched the wall with a while back―and fractured knuckles, apparently, hurt for a lot longer than I thought.

“Oi!” his companion shouts, but my hand is still a fist, and I’m tense. He can tell and doesn’t step forward, just reaches out for his friend. The boy I hit is bleeding into his hand and onto his shirt.

“You’re a bully,” I state simply, my voice all hard-edged and low. I barely even recognise it as my own. “You should fuck off now probably.”

The guy I punched looks like he’s about to argue. But when his eyes meet mine, he glances away very quickly. As the door shuts behind them, I consciously unclench my jaw, reaching for my phone. I have to find Hrishi.

He beats me to it.

“Marty?” I have never heard him sound shaky and uncertain before, but his voice pulls at me, and I end up standing outside the locked stall.

“Hey.” My voice is as bruised as my knuckles.

The door opens with a squeak and Hrishi stands there, his clothes rumpled, his eyes big, dark, and frightened like a deer. There are four million things I want to say to him, but not I single one of them makes it past my lips. I grab him roughly, pull him up against my body, and stick my tongue down his throat. Not even in the showers or after we fought in my bedroom, have I ever felt this wound up. There isn’t time to speak, or breathe, or pause between kissing, stepping further back into the stall, not caring if the door behind us isn’t locked as I pull his shirt open. I know one of the buttons has skittered across the floor, but I don’t care. I abandon his lips, kissing and biting down his neck to his chest, wrapping my fingers tight around his ribs as I nip at one nipple. Hrishi’s fingers are tight and painful in my hair. I practically rip his trousers open and twist him with my fingers on his hips.

“Turn round.”

“Marty….” He sounds unsure. I suck on my own fingers, and then press into the cleft of his arse. Instantly he braces himself against the wall above the toilet.

“Shut up,” I grunt. I invade his body swiftly, and he cries out, bites his own arm, and I slow down a little, taking my time as I push into him with slicked up fingers. Watching my hand slide in and out of his tight opening is incredibly intense. “Touch yourself.”

Hrishi just groans, and I look over his shoulder as he wraps strong brown fingers around his cock: he’s so hard already. I set my teeth in the side of his neck, high up where he won’t be able to hid it, and gnaw my mark into him as I twist my fingers to try and find his prostate.

“Marty!”

Hrishi’s voice lets me know when I’ve found it, and I lick the bruise I’ve left on his dark skin as I peg him again. He groans in time with my thrusting fingers and I stand back a little to watch. He’s quivering, his arm shaking as he jacks himself furiously, and his beautiful arse clenches around my hand.

I fumble with my fly, grab my aching cock, and with two strokes, I’m spreading my precum with my fingers. It gives me an idea, and I abandon him just for a moment to gather the thin liquid with my other hand before I push into him again. Hrishi snarls my name, and the added lubrication allows me deeper access to his fantastic body. I match pace with my thrusts, imagine fucking Hrishi with my cock, and the moment his motion falters I come over his back in three quick and sticky bursts. I push my fingers hard against his prostate and Hrishi’s body clamps down tighter than a vice around my fingers, and I feel each pulse of his orgasm as his cock jerks in his hand.

I collapse against the wall as he turns to me, both our chests heaving.

“You always sneak up on guys you like and sexually assault them in the bathrooms?” he says with a broad smile.

I smirk as I respond.

“Only you.”

*

Saturday morning the sky is battleship grey and the air heavy with impending rain. I wake abysmally early, and unable to go back to sleep, lie in bed staring at the blank expanse of the ceiling. Hrishi is coming over tonight, and I have to somehow get through a whole day without exploding. Last night after dinner I drove to the big shopping centre outside of town where I don’t know anyone and bought condoms and lube whilst trying not to blush. Now, their presence in my nightstand is all I can think about.

Hrishi told me I was brave, thanked me with his tongue, and kissing made us both so late for our next classes we practically missed them. On the way out of the bathroom, he gave me the sexiest smile and told me I was a good person. I was back in the music department when my phone buzzed with his text.

Sat night, rock star. Gonna rock ur wrld.

There are far too many hours to waste between now and the time Hrishi will be here, and I’m far too tense. Picturing my fingers sliding in and out of his beautiful arse and hearing his growl in my ear, I remember what we did in the bathroom. I don’t need pornography to achieve orgasm; Hrishi in my head is better than any external fantasy could be.

Afterwards, I shower, standing in the steam for a lot longer than necessary, then pull on a pair of sweats before slipping out the back door and into the garden. I don’t remember the last time I saw anyone other than the contracted gardening staff out here. We have a huge rolling green lawn, ornamental shrubs and bushes I don’t know the names of, and a vine and creeper covered archway over a cobblestone path. I’m sure I remember my mother bragging about how the stones were imported from some special granite mine in the Cotswolds; she was incredibly proud of how much they’d cost. I reach the end of the path and turn to look back at the house. I can still pick out my old bedroom window, a place I haven’t slept in since I was a little kid. I think my father turned it into a home gym I doubt anyone has ever used; I haven’t been up there in years. Part of me wonders if I ever will.

I have no idea if my parents are home. I got a text from my mother when she returned back from her latest excursion, nothing from dad, and fuck-all from either of them since. Apparently, talking to me is too much effort for them to deal with. There are lights on in the main house, but it could be nothing, or it could be cleaners. I’ve lost track of which cars my parents drive, there are several parked out front, but my silver seventeenth birthday present Mercedes-Benz sits alone next to the east wing door. I’ve not felt this lonely in a long time. It starts to drizzle, and I wander back inside, fetch my Baby Taylor off the wall, and fall flat on my back on the bed with the travel guitar over my abdomen.

There’s nothing else to do until Hrishi gets here, so I compose and play until my fingers are sore.

*

“Nice to see you made an effort for me.” Hrishi stands in my doorway looking adorable as he hangs up his jacket and smooths tiny drops of moisture from his dark hair. “Do you not own a brush?”

With my guitar still in my lap, I straighten up and smile at him. The whole day has vanished past me, and I have barely moved. A day’s worth of not eating has been good to my abs. I lay the Baby Taylor aside, showing off.

“Oh, Marty….” Hrishi takes his time unlacing his shiny leather shoes before he crosses the room and runs his fingers through my hair. “What did you do, shower and just laze around afterward?”

“I wrote,” I reply with a shrug.

“You singing about me again?” I can’t read his expression one little bit, but since I’m lying to everyone else in my life who’s talking to me, I’d rather not lie to Hrishi too. I just nod. “Can I hear it?”

“Now?”

Hrishi picks up the guitar by its slim neck and lays it aside on the floor gently.

“Maybe later. C’mere, rock star.” Hrishi settles his weight over my lap. I can feel the heat of his body through my single layer of clothing, and it occurs to me I should have maybe dressed up, or at least actually dressed. Hrishi doesn’t seem to mind much, and he’s already mussed up my hair enough that I’m glad not to have bothered styling it. “You going to go blond like this guitar?”

“Ha! I don’t play gigs with the Taylor….” I doubt Hrishi wants to discuss the technical aspects of my extensive collection of musical instruments. “Missed you.”

“Mmmm….” Hrishi’s fingers tighten in my hair suddenly and painfully, and he twists my face upward, dodges the kiss I want to take, and nips at the taut skin over my jugular. I moan as his teeth graze down my neck, allow him to grab my wrists, then smile as he pulls them over my head and pushes me down onto the mattress. Hrishi bites deep into the muscle of my inner arm, and I know I’m going to have another dark bruise, which will last for days. The thought makes my cock instantly hard, and he notices. “You did miss me.”

“Hell, I don’t need to miss you for that to happen,” I scoff, “I get excited the moment you walk in the damn room.”

“Is that so?”

“You know it is.” I buck underneath him, grinding my crotch into the weight of him straddling my lap. Hrishi grins happily.

“Good.” He jumps up and I groan at the sudden chill his absence leaves. “Strip.”

“I’m hardly wearing anything.”

“And it’s still too much. Strip,” Hrishi commands. I feel helpless but to follow through, so I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my sweats and drop them to the floor. I kick the material away and stand there naked in front of him. “On your knees, rock star.”

There must be something pretty seriously wrong with me, because a chill shiver crawls up my spine as I kneel on the floor. I want to do whatever he wants, really rather desperately, and my erection is making my desires rather obvious. Hrishi steps forward without a word, opening his fly, then snarls as I raise my hands to his hips, so I drop them again and I take his cock between my lips eagerly. He’s already mostly hard and thickens quickly in my mouth. I suck in the way I’ve learnt he likes, pausing to run my tongue over the exposed head, and swallowing hard even though his glans pushing into the back of my throat make it impossible to breathe. I’m surprised when Hrishi pushes me off and steps away.

“Hey….” I make to grab him, but his dark eyes meet mine, and I realise how close to the edge I’ve brought him. Hrishi’s chest is heaving hard, and his dark skin is flushed.

“Get on the bed.”

I scramble to obey him, and my brain pauses to wonder where I left my free will. As soon as I sit, Hrishi kneels over me and wraps his fingers tight around my leaking erection.

“What do you want?”

“Ahh!” I can barely form words. Hrishi’s lips are inches away, and I miss kissing him. I pant, supporting my weight on my elbows, unable to pull him closer. His whole body is tense, each muscle defined under his skin, and we’re both visibly shaking.

“Marty...” his voice is a low growl in my ear. I shiver, bite my lip to keep from moaning, and I know he can tell. “C’mon, Marty.” Hrishi’s lips are warm on my skin, his teeth nipping my earlobe. “Where’s that big cocky son-of-a-bitch who stands on stage and sings his heart out? You’re not scared of me, are you, rock star?”

“No.” The word feels like a lie in my mouth. I’m not scared of Hrishi, but I am terrified of what I want. I shouldn’t want him like I do, but dammit, I really do.

“Tell me what you want.” Hrishi fondles me gently, too gently, and I buck into his hand. I feel very out of control.

“I want you.”

“And how do you want me, Marty?” Hrishi smiles at me, and I wonder if it would be possible to resist anything he wants me to do. “Marty.” Hrishi presses closer, his fingers warm and tight around my cock until I’m fighting for breath.

He’s going to make me say it. I can’t possibly ask him for what I want, I don’t even know how I could ask him. There aren’t any words for the sense of urgency and desire I feel when he talks to me in that tone which brooks no argument. I love being at his mercy, but I can’t possibly ask him that. He’s going to make me beg for the privilege of fucking him, and he’s going to enjoy every single damn second if it. And so am I. Knowing this makes me so embarrassed, it’s a wonder I have enough blood left to maintain an erection.

“I want to fuck you.”

“Is that right?” Hrishi is so obviously enjoying himself, and it’s such a turn on. I’m a twisted bastard, I must be. “Tell me what you want,” he commands.

“I want to fuck you.” It’s the same words, but now I’m begging. “Please, Hrishi, let me fuck you.”

“Good boy,” Hrishi purrs as he fondles my genitals. I can feel the heat radiating off him, so close to my skin but not yet touching. “You want me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.” I know exactly what he means, what he wants me to say. I don’t want to, I shouldn’t want to, but I want to have him turn me inside out and dominate me in ways I never even fantasied about before. It’s all I can do to keep from whining in need. I’ve never been so hard in my life.

“I want your ass.”

“What do you want to do with it?” He bites my throat and my chest between each word; every touch makes me jump.

“I want….” even in my head, I sound like a slut, and I hate that I love it. “I want to fill your ass with my cock.” I want to, over and over again, but I’m not in control any more. I don’t know if I ever was.

“Good. Stay there, rock star.” Hrishi gets up and goes to my nightstand, like he just knew he’d find what he wants in there. When turns back to me, I haven’t moved a muscle, and his smile is broad and possessive. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. Just lie right there, Marty.”

“OK.”

He runs his hands up my abs then rakes his short nails down my sides, making me shudder involuntarily. I shouldn’t be lying on my back, but my cock twitches when Hrishi breathes on me, all hot and moist and I groan his name. Hrishi places a kiss at the base of my shaft, then hands me the lube as he tears open the foil packet with his slender fingers.

“You know what to do.”

I am incredibly grateful that I have indeed spent enough time with my eyes glued to the computer screen and my hand down my trousers to be confident of my actions. Only breathing really hard stops my hands from shaking as I apply the cold lube generously to my fingers. I gulp as I reach between Hrishi’s parted thighs, and under his nuts to the hidden warmth of his crack. The moment I touch him, he rolls the condom over the head of my cock, and I stop.

“Keep going,” Hrishi growls as he sheathes my erection in one slick movement. I have no choice, and no free will at all, so I used my other hand to part the smooth globes of his arse, pressing my lubricated fingers against his entrance. He flicks my nipple, making me gasp, and I respond by pushing into his body.

I know from everything I’ve read that I need to stretch him out if this is to be fun for both of us. I don’t dare ask how long it’s been for him, though I figure it must have been a while, since we’ve been fucking around but not actually fucking for a couple of months now. Hrishi rocks into my hand, fondling my balls with one hand while the other plays with my nipples in turn. My cock bobs with every motion, hard and desperate to be surrounded by the heat of his body, but when I go to rub his g-spot, Hrishi pulls off me with a lewd noise. I want to pull him back, but very quickly he has my wrists pinned back to the bed.

“Stay right there. No touching.”

“What?” I want to run my hands all over his body, but Hrishi’s eyes are dark.

“No touching,” he repeats, “not until I tell you.” Hrishi wraps his hand around the base of my dick and squeezes, making me moan.

“What do you want?” he asks again.

“I want to fuck your fine and perfect ass,” I declare passionately.

“Good boy,” Hrishi purrs, impaling himself in one smooth motion on my cock. I see stars.

It’s the first time I ever have sex, and it’s fucking awesome.