Page 37 of More Than Scars
That first day set the tone for our week, with not much time for more than showers and goodnights by the time we made it home each night. Dinner was one of the subs and salads we’d stocked the fridge in our rehearsal space with. Bottled water, iced tea, and Gatorade made up the rest of the contents. We had six songs down by the time we rolled into our Friday night gig, far more exhausted than we’d expected to be when we started unloading the box truck.
“Hey, you guys need a hand?”
Deep voice in a dim alley? Let’s just say we all stepped closer to Wolf when the voice rang out.
“We might,” Wolf said. “You make it a habit of volunteering your time?”
The guy who stepped fully into the light was well over six feet, with clothes that dropped off a skinny frame like they’d once fit him better.
“When it looks like someone needs it,” the guy said, closing the distance and holding out his hand. “My name’s Vance.”
Wolf shook his hand firmly and looked to be sizing him up. “Wolf. And yeah, we could use some help.”
“Yeah, we can,” Claude said. “Especially with these drums. I’m Claude.”
One by one we introduced ourselves as we carried in our equipment, Vance displaying surprising knowledge about where to position things on a stage. He certainly earned a raised eyebrow from Wolf, who only had to adjust a few things before we were all set up.
Somehow, all of that exhaustion melted after we’d been introduced. Having learned our lesson at the previous show, we kicked things off withFuck You!and followed it up withFailed and Fried,which had gone so smoothly that the sixth song we’d recorded was a bonus acoustic version of it that we couldn’t wait to unveil the next time we played an acoustic set. We still played the covers we’d rehearsed, since they’d be a part of our Rocktoberfest set, but as we finished polishing the rest of the songs for our recording session, we’d slowly integrate them into our sets and phase out the covers well before our debut album dropped. Tonight, I wasn’t gonna fuck up and fiddle with my hair. I wasn’t going to let it matter if the flash went off and maybe caught ahint of those scars. Me and my boys were gonna be the stars of every superstar fantasy we’d ever had, even if this was a club and not a stadium. Balls to the wall, we played our set, and afterward, I was gonna see if Pressley wanted to play a bit of one-on-one, particularly while I was still flying high from being onstage.
Chapter Sixteen
Pressley
“Wait,” Bowie’s lips were on mine, on my neck, then back on mine. “Are you sure? Aren’t you tired?” His hands were all over me. Not complaining, just a bit surprised.
“Too,”kiss, “Amped,”kiss, “Up.”
“Who tops?”
“Don’t care.” Bowie unbuttoned my shirt and slid it down my arms, his lips now diverted to my nipples.
“Who bottoms?”
“Don’t care.” And now my pants were wide open with his fingers skating along my erection. This was definitely a different side of Bowie, and one that I wasn’t opposed to. Not that I had been to any thus far.
“Okay then, I want you inside me.” He stood up so fast he nearly knocked me out. It’d been a while since I bottomed. Hell, it’s been a while for penetration period, but I wanted Bowie to top me. Tonight, it just felt right.
“Fuck yeah.”
Bowie kicked off his shoes and started removing his clothes. Pants came quickly, but when he reached for his shirt, he paused.
“Bowie,” his head ducked. I tilted his chin up so we were eye-to-eye. “It’s okay if we don’t do this, but just know that no matter what, I love you.”
He nuzzled my hand as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “I love you too. I’ve wanted to say it for days but was afraid of scaring you off.”
I snickered. “Same. Guess we both need to learn to step outside of our comfort zones.”
Bowie sighed and then straightened to his full height, having satisfied his internal conflict. He gripped the rim of his shirt and pulled it off. There he stood for the first time, completely naked in front of me. Completely naked in front of anyone since his accident, from what he’d said.
“You’re beautiful.” I pressed my lips to his, not allowing him a chance to protest. Tears fell, and I kissed each one away. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“You’re, um, you’re still dressed.”
That I was. I finished what Bowie started and stood there, allowing him to take me all in. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen me naked, but this time I wasn’t racing to put on a pair of boxers. This was a huge step for him that wasn’t missed by me, and if I showed any kind of nerves, he’d retreat, and that would only set him back in the forward strides he’d made. I had to be as comfortable in the nude in front of him as I expected him to someday be with me.
Thus far, everything we’d done had been in the dark of night, beneath the covers. Seeing Bowie in the light, scars and all, was eye-opening. I couldn’timagine the hell he went through, healing the physical wounds. But I’d not let that show in my face. Instead, I gently traced his scars, my lips following my fingers' trail, gently pressing against each one. Some were thicker and deeper than the others; a few along his side and torso were scarily close to vital organs. The human body was amazing because all I kept thinking was how lucky we both were that he survived such an ordeal.
“My love,” I kissed along his side. “My life,” then pressed another kiss to a wide one across his abdomen. “My heart,” I pressed my lips right where that organ lay. “Please, open your eyes.”