“Nah.”
“You sure?” Marc asked, walking his fingers along the mattress until they touched the guitarist.
He smacked his hand away, making him laugh. “I’m not sulking, but I do hate Uwe for getting us a room with one bed instead of two.”
As grateful as he was for their friends being so accepting of him and his situationship with Marc, he didn’t like this. He was too conflicted to share a bed with this man now, no matter how big it was.
“It's king-sized, dude. It’s not like we need to cuddle to fit here. You stay there in your corner and don’t cross to my side.” Marc drew an invisible line with his index finger.
Chris swallowed. He had beautiful, skilled hands with long, delicate, and strong fingers—probably missing some adjectives to describe them. Hands that had just pleasured another man. Hands that had pleasured Viktor in the past and could do it again in a week.
Why did you tell him you don’t mind if they meet when, for whatever reason, you clearly fucking do?
“Is there… anything from before that bothered you?”
“What? Why would you say that?” Chris slapped his phone on his abs.
“Because you’re acting like a twat.”
“I am not. I’m just trying to check all my messages and you’re pestering me with stupid questions.”
“Okay, shithead. G’night.”
“G’night, jackass.”
Marc chuckled as he rolled on his side and switched off the lamp on his nightstand.
Silence settled in the space, leaving Chris alone with the noise in his head when he turned his back to the bassist.
He wasn’t bitter about having seen Marc fucking a man that wasn’t him. Had he liked it more that one time in front of the mirror or the night they recorded themselves? Yeah. Was he possessive? Again, yes. But he’d enjoyed watching them, too.
Seeing the bassist’s dick sliding in and out of another dude’s ass, that perspective… It had been insanely hot. Much more so once Chris was able to get rid of his insecurities and let his dominant side roam freely, meeting Marc’s in the middle of their lustful maelstrom. The way their mouths had constantly sought each other’s. The way their eyes had forgotten there was someone else in the room most of the time. It’d been fucking epic.
So why was he so apprehensive? Why couldn’t he shake off this uneasiness that had perched inside of him?
Sighing as he left his phone on the nightstand, Chris rolled onto his back. He stared at the ceiling for several minutes, getting annoyed with his brain for not shutting the fuck up.
After who knew how long, he glanced at his friend. His dark mane was sprawled over the pillow, and his rib cage was rising and falling with slow breaths, skin washed with the soft light coming from the window.
Chris’s stomach churned, and a foreign urge to hug him and never let go invaded him.
Fuck it.
He was tired of analyzing, overthinking, and suffering through this contradicting wave of emotions. He just wanted to feel this man, his warmth, his strong body, and the peaceful chaos his presence brought.
Gently swiping his hair up so he didn’t end up eating it or hurting Marc by lying on it, Chris slid closer to him. The lump in his throat grew when he curled around him, spooning the bassist and nuzzling his neck with a hand resting on his waist.
It had been ages since he felt this dire need to hold someone like this. But nothing had ever come close to the sensation of Marc intertwining his fingers with his, kissing his knuckles, and then bringing their joined hands to his chest, right over his heart.
23. Give It All
November13th,2017
Hamburg, Germany
“You need anything, bro?”Sophia asked, peeking her head into their mom’s living room. She had her own house with her husband and all, but she seemed to live here whenever Marc was in town.
“We’re good. Thanks, Soph,” he said with a smile while shaking the rattle over his niece’s face.
