“You’re irresistible, baby.”
“Right.”
Chris squeezed some body wash on his palm when the bassist stood up and rubbed it over his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen, his balls...Fuck. that feels good.Several minutes of silence and water running flooded the space in the room as they took care of each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or weird, but there was a heaviness in the air that was bothering Marc.
“Areyouokay?”
“Yeah.” Chris turned the tap off and slid the screen of the shower open. “Just tired.”
“Are you sure? Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I get my way with you and how my hand looks printed on your ass.” He pointed at the deep red mark. “But you’d tell me if I was too rough or anything, right?”
“I would, but you were perfect. It was hot as fuck.” He flashed him a challenging grin as he grabbed a towel and handed him another. “No need to worry so much all the time.”
“Okay, okay…”
As they stood in front of the mirror Chris wrapped the towel around his waist while Marc squeezed out the excess water from his hair. It was just a moment before the guitarist looked away, but their eyes connected through their reflection and there it was; concern, exhaustion, and other things he couldn’t read, shining brightly in his friend’s gaze.
Marc’s brows creased together. “I know I’m being a pain in the ass, but something’s clearly bothering you. Talk to me, Chris.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You just seem off, and I don’t think it’s just tiredness.”
Letting out a sigh as he looked at him again, he finally spoke. “Before, when you handed me your phone right after turning it on at the airport, when you couldn’t find your passport, it went off with notifications of all kinds and…”
“And what?” Marc frowned as he rolled down the top edge of the towel to secure it on his hips.
“I noticed… Have you been talking to Viktor?”
“What?”
“I didn’t read anything, but one of the pop-ups was an email with Viktor’s name.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Chris’s jaw ticked.
Marc felt like teasing him about being jealous, but something in his friend’s expression told him he would punch him if he did. “No, I haven’t been talking to him. He messaged me the other day because he saw the Wacken announcement and wanted to congratulate us.”
“It’s not the first time we’re part of the lineup, and it’s not like they have announced anything about the stage we’re gonna be playing at.”
“Yeah, I know, dude.” Marc shrugged. He couldn’t control what other people did. “But it wasn’t anything big, and I just answered him with a dry ‘thanks’ and a polite ‘how are you’.”
The bassist didn’t know why he felt the need to reassure him. He didn’t owe him shit in that sense, but he still explained.
“Okay,” Chris said, looking at himself in the mirror as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Is that why you wanted me to be so rough with you? Why you wanted me to hurt you?”
Chris let out a huff and propped both hands on the countertop. “Part of me was in the mood for you to push my limits, but”—he looked down at his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the sink—“while you can do what you want with whoever you want…” He raised his gaze and fixed it on Marc’s through their reflection again, letting out a sigh. “Viktor is not just anyone. If he comes back, you and I… This thing we have would be over, and I don’t like the idea.”
Marc raised a taunting brow.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying I’m in love or asking you to marry me, but you’re the best sex I’ve ever had. I don’t wanna lose that.”
Such a sweet punch to his guts. Chris wanted him, but what they had wasn’t enough for him to want a commitment.
“Even if I were to go back with him, you know the type of relationship we had. So we probably could keep fucking each other. But I am not interested in himat all. If that makes you feel any better.”
