He didn’t understand why he couldn’t accept this new part of himself without making a big deal out of it. They had pleasured each other, and there was nothing wrong with that. Sure, they were friends, but they were two consenting adults of sound mind and body, too. Besides, he would be the biggest fucking liar in history if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.
Still, the pressure in his chest wouldn’t go away.
“Here,” Marc said, surprising him as he handed him a washcloth—hadn’t heard him coming back.
“Thanks.”
As he wiped the damp cloth over his torso, Chris watched the bassist stride over to the fridge.
“Want anything to drink?”
“No. I’m good.”
They didn’t say anything else. For Chris, the atmosphere had turned bizarre. For Marc, it seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. He got himself a bottle of water, drank a little, and then picked up his boxers from the floor.
“Fuck, we should get some sleep,” he said as he lay on the bed, checking the time on his phone while readjusting his dick in his trunks, oblivious to the chaos going on inside the guitarist’s head. “We have to be at the airport in less than four hours. It’s gonna be one hell of a flight with everyone hungover and sleep deprived.”
“Yeah…” Chris tossed the cloth and got up to grab his underwear.
“Where are you going?” Marc reclined on his elbows, brow furrowed, when Chris headed to the door separating their rooms.
“To sleep. Hopefully, the happy couple will be done already.”
“This bed is big enough for the both of us. You could stay—” Marc paused, probably reading Chris’s restless stance and realizing this was pushing it too much. “If you want, that is.”
“I’d rather…” Chris gestured at his bedroom behind the door with his head. “I’m not used to sleeping with anyone.” He flashed him the most awkward of tight smiles.
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either. Fucking was one thing, sleeping together a completely different one. For him, spending the night with someone after sex entailed a lot more commitment and emotional attachment than he could offer. No woman had stayed the night in over a decade. If he had ended up at their house, the guitarist had always taken off after getting down and dirty, no matter how tired he’d been. And he wasn’t planning to change that any time soon. Much less with this turmoil inside of him.
“Yeah, right. Okay.” Marc nodded. “Night.”
“Night, man.”
Chris opened and closed the door behind him. He went straight to the bathroom and, without giving it a second thought, tucked into his bed right after.
He knew he had to talk to Marc. Share with him his worries, doubts, and this tide of confusion lashing him, because no matter how long he’d unconsciously been attracted to him, he didn’t want to lose his friend. But the mental and physical exhaustion was fucking real, and he wasn’t ready to speak about this new level of intimacy yet.
15. Like A Villain
September15th,2017
Munich, Germany
As expected,life hadn’t changed much, except that Marc’s stores—yes, even the second one he’d opened that was barely making any profit—had suddenly been packed. Whether the interest came from the product he offered or from him being a “famous musician” many people wanted to meet, it had been amazing. He wouldn’t complain, but he was definitely tired.
Leaving his keys in the bowl at the entrance of the apartment, he kicked his sneakers off and walked directly into his bedroom.
Erik and Julia had left four days before on a trip the crew had gifted them, and they weren’t coming back for another while. Their birthdays were just a week apart, and they also deserved some romantic time alone after being away from each other for two months.
It was the group’s way of telling them how grateful they were for their efforts. The leave of absence from work the drummer had asked for would have him without a decent income until the end of November. Not to mention, he was seriously considering never going back so he could focus on the band.
And then, while they were away, sweet Julia had not only taken care of Betty and Wilma, the bassist’s rats, but also looked after Noah’s girlfriend, who had apparently panicked when she found out she was pregnant, because, in her words, she “wasn’t ready for this crap”. The amount of shit they had given the tech, telling him things like he’d be closer to his sixties when his kid was in the middle of puberty, had been epic.
The roadies were spending time with their families, trying to readjust to their normal lives and jobs as well. Leah would be busy during the weekend because Søren was flying over. So chances were Marc wouldn’t see her at all, either. Or maybe he would, if they decided to leave her bedroom at some point. Those two were adorable together. It was super easy to see the love they had for each other, but it was also as if they’d unlocked a new level of kinkiness during the last few weeks of the tour and needed to fuck their brains out to survive.
Marc didn’t mind how lovey-dovey or disgustingly sexual they wanted to get. Happy for them. Though they made him too aware of how fucking single he was. Because yeah, he was very single. Since that night he’d spent two weeks before with Chris back in LA, they hadn’t met again, not even texted.
Well, that was a partial lie.
