“Yeah…”
The bassist glanced at his friend, who was gazing at him. Even if he was barely a silhouette, his sky-blue eyes shone in the dark. His jaw was tense. Pierced nostrils slightly flaring.
For a minute there, it was just them. Hearts beating in unison as the bold and aromatic mix of sandalwood, citrus, and sage from Chris’s cologne wrapped around them. The temperature soared, and so did Marc’s breathing. This moment, this fraction of time hanging by a thread, was where he wanted to stay.
“And sex.”
Marc’s synapses collapsed. “What?” That took him off guard.
Chris broke eye contact with him as he reached for his own pack of tobacco, shattering the spell he’d cast at the same time. “I know this is totally inappropriate given the day we’ve had and everything that’s happened…” he started, plucking a cig with his lips and lighting it. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
“About what?” Although Marc had a slight idea of what he was talking about, considering the look he flashed him and his suggestion the night he’d fucked Green Hair, he didn’t want to bring his hopes too high. The fall would be devastating otherwise.
Chris looked at him again, confident and serene as ever. “About that foursome last year.”
“Oh.”
“I wanna do it again… Maybe a threesome this time.”
Shocked by such a confession, Marc cleared his throat and straightened his back. “That night sure was hot, yeah. But why are you telling me this now?” he asked.
“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Chris huffed and turned his head away as he let out smoke through his nose.
Marc had grown used to his friend’s ways, to his dirty jokes and physical contact, but this? This was completely out of line, and he low-key hated him for it. The guitarist had no fucking idea how this suggestion and his actions affected him. How badly he wanted to kiss that filthy mouth, or how he’d jerked himself off more than once thinking about him naked and on his knees.
“No. I mean… you know I’m always up for something like that. I’m just curious about why now… so out of nowhere, actually planned, and with me.”
All the other times they’d shared group sex, they hadn’t talked much about it. Led by the heat of the moment and the provocative words tossed by whoever had hit on them those nights, they had reached a silent agreement that it was okay to fuck while watching the other fuck. Had only shared a brief chat about it once, after the first time. But this blunt proposition was so new, Marc wasn’t sure how to feel about it. The risks accepting would entail were beyond dangerous. Yet rejecting his suggestions wasn’t an option. Not when he was yearning to have Chris’s skin burning with pleasure for him.
“With everything that’s happened today… I don’t know.” Chris lifted a shoulder, eyes fixed on his hands as he toyed around with the cig in his fingers. “I really don’t know why, but it’s like… If life can literally slip away so easily, maybe we should just make the best out of it every fucking day so we don’t end up leaving with regrets for all the things we wanted and never had the balls to do.” The guitarist glanced back at him again as a second of silence lingered between them. “I don’t know about you, but those times we’ve been together in the same room are some of the best fucks I’ve ever had.”
His voice had become deeper, raspier, and it was doing all sorts of sinful things to Marc’s reasoning. More so since those lips seemed to be calling his name, inviting him to a paradise he hadn’t been allowed to enter before.Fuck. He was close to breaking his own rules and his friend’s limits.
Dragging a palm over his face, he let out a heavy, smokey sigh and flicked the stub of his cig. “Is this why you’ve been so touchy and damn weird the last few weeks?” he asked, putting on a mask of calmness that didn’t exist, considering a riot had just broken out inside of him. “You wanted us to do a threesome, or whatever, and didn’t know how to ask for it?”
Chris lifted a shoulder before he turned completely to him, bending a leg on the table and placing both his hands on Marc’s thigh.
Once again, this was probably a meaningless gesture for him. At this moment, though, after what he’d just said, for Marc, it was as if he’d sucked out all the surrounding air. He was fucking dizzy.
“I miss the high of having you railing someone beside me,” Chris blurted.
Just fucking end me.
“I…” The bassist groaned, letting out a nervous chuckle as he mentally pleaded for Chris not to get any closer to his dick, which had gotten abnormally hard from a fucking conversation. “If that’s what you want, sure. We can do it. We can find some chick and—”
“No, Zimmer.” Chris tossed his almost consumed cigarette to the ground and tightened his grip on the bassist’s leg, his expression darkening as he did. “Doyouwant it?”
What is it with him tonight?
“I don’t want this to be a one-sided thing,” he continued, “or you feeling like you’re doing me a favor because, for whatever reason, watching you fucking turns me on.”
Marc’s eyes widened, and he gulped. Chris didn’t seem drunk or high on opiates. The bassist hadn’t seen him taking any of those, and they’d drunk only a few beers—way less than they were used to. But his tongue sure was running loose. Had death and seeing his best friend struggling with old demons really hit him hard enough that all his inhibitions had disappeared? Or were there some underlying desires he wasn’t even aware of rattling his mind and body?
“So?”
“Y-yeah,” Marc stammered. His brain was having a hard time getting accustomed to this new rush of endorphins. “You know sex is one of my favoriteactivities.” He smirked, leaning back on his palms to put some distance between them, though he didn’t move anything else. Was enjoying Chris’s touch. “And can’t deny that the times we’ve done it together have been… different.”
“Different how?”
