Love Me Tenor

by Annabeth Albert

  Look at us, all with fans and shit. He raised an eyebrow at Jalen.

  I know. Pretty damn cool, Jalen’s eyes said back.

  “So dish,” the first girl said. “Are you guys like together again? Because there was this rumor online . . .”

  “We’re together.” Jalen grabbed Trevor’s hand and squeezed.

  “Oh not you.” The girl laughed. “No one could doubt that you were anything other than one hundred percent for real.”

  Trevor coughed, and Jalen kicked his ankle, so they both started laughing.

  The girl shook her head indulgently. “See? Adorbs. No, I meant Carter and Carson. Are you guys still a couple?”

  “We’re working on it,” Carson said at the same time that Carter said, “Yes.”

  They’d been tentatively working toward something the past few days. Not quite back together, but no one was sleeping on the couch either. Trevor knew how bad Carter wanted Carson back, so he hoped for his friend’s sake that a breakthrough came soon.

  His friend. That still felt a bit weird to think, but it was true. There was a real friendship between the four of them now, and it was funny how his and Carter’s more volatile friendship balanced out Jalen and Carson’s steady mutual respect. Like real couple friends.

  “Please sing for us,” the second girl asked, tucking her hands under her heart-shaped face. “Please.”

  “Oh yeah. Let’s do another viral video!” First girl got in on it, practically hanging over the back of the seat. “Come on. We’ve got nothing to do but wait.”

  “We could do . . . you know,” he said to Carter, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

  “Oh yeah.” Jalen picked up the subtext. “Let’s.”

  “Um . . . not sure.” Carter messed with his seat belt.

  “What?” Carson’s face crinkled. “What song?”

  “Ahum,” Trevor hummed the opening riff, not waiting for Carter to get up his courage. He and Jalen and Carter had been messing with this the day before when Carson walked up to the store. Jalen joined in, his voice mingling with Trevor’s. Technically, Trevor’s voice was more suited for the Jason Mraz tune, but this was all about Carter’s moment.

  Carter sang the first line to the air-conditioning vent. It was cute to see him being the one with stage fright. The girls had their cell phones out and a few other people had turned to look as well. And Trevor didn’t care. He just sang. Let them go viral. Hell, please let them go viral. Every successful video got them one step closer to the record deal and a way to stay together.

  And if their little ploy worked on Carson, well, that was good, too. They needed him and Carter solid again.

  Some of that need crept into Carter’s voice and gave him new strength. He’d told them how this was one of his and Carson’s songs, and he certainly delivered it with that sort of passion.

  Come on, man, join in, Trevor tried to beam at Carson. Don’t just sit there.

  He could see the exact moment when Carson gave in—his foot started tapping and his whole face softened as he turned to face them. When Carson’s voice mingled with Carter’s, Trevor had to stop himself from pumping his fist.

  Just keep singing. The acoustics sucked, but some people around them joined in, too, all the voices mingling together. We’re doing this. We’re making people sing. Making them feel. We’ve got the best job in the whole world. He grinned at Jalen, who beamed back.

  As the song ended and people clapped, Carson slumped in his seat. “You guys aren’t going to give up, huh?”

  “Nope.” The three of them all grinned like loons at him until he shook his head.

  “You win,” Carson said softly, eyes only for Carter.

  Jalen leaned over, lips against Trevor’s ear. “Someone’s not sleeping on the floor tonight.”

  “Hey. I’ve got plans for you. No one’s sleeping on our floor,” Trevor whispered, the flight to DC now seeming doubly long.

  Jalen still wasn’t sure what to make of Michelin Moses—dude was all business at their rehearsal, least chatty guy ever, yet still took a moment to ask Trevor if he’d eaten. Michelin was doing an old Johnny Cash classic that had the dress rehearsal crowd applauding, but Michelin acted like he might as well have read the phone book. He’d been the same at the festival—absolutely mesmerizing on stage, the picture of chill off it.

  “You guys order whatever food you need to at the hotel,” Michelin said as they gathered up their stuff.

  “Dawn said you picked the hotel,” Jalen said, trying not to feel tongue-tied in front of such an icon.

  “Yup. Decent food and a nice place to sleep—those are my requirements when touring.” Michelin gave what Jalen supposed passed for a smile.

  “I’d settle for just being able to tour,” Carter said. He’d been subdued all afternoon—not flirting with Michelin like he might have two weeks ago, but also all nervous around Carson, too. Those two needed their hotel room stat.

  “I hear you.” Michelin clipped him on the shoulder with a giant fist. “And you guys are going to be huge. No dirty dives for you. I’m a fan already.” Michelin’s smile this time was almost blinding—white teeth and sparkling crystal blue eyes.

  “Thanks, man,” Jalen said. Play it cool, play it cool, not like one of the biggest musicians on the planet said he was a fan of your group.

  “Now I want you all here on time tomorrow. The crowds on the National Mall are going to be intense. You can play tourist a bit if you want, but you need to be here by three.”

  “Yes, sir,” Trevor said reverently. And it was a good thing Jalen wasn’t really a jealous guy, because those stars in Trevor’s eye gleamed pretty damned bright.

  No poker face. Jalen still put a proprietary arm around Trevor. This one’s mine.

  “Michelin has the best taste in hotels,” Trevor said two hours later as he moved their room-service trays aside. The trays were polished leather with silver-domed lids, elegant like the rest of the older hotel that had been a short taxi ride from the Capitol lawn. If Jalen had paid attention in history class, he’d probably be able to say which senators had stayed here when, but history was his least favorite subject. Give him some math problems to solve or a frog to dissect. Something to do.

  “How about you wait until you see him again before you go hosing him down in compliments,” Jalen groused, getting up from the tiny table in the corner of the room. They had a nice view of the Washington Monument from their high-up room.

  “Are you jealous?” Trevor asked as Jalen flopped on the monster king-size bed in the center of the room. Heck, the bed alone was almost bigger than the small room they shared back in Vancouver.

  “Hell naw. I freaking love Michelin.” Jalen stretched his legs in front of him, rearranging his towel. “Bed bigger than an aircraft carrier? Shower we actually both fit in? He’s my favorite person ever.”

  “You don’t have to be jealous.” Trevor wouldn’t let it drop, stretching out next to Jalen. “To be honest, he kind of scares me.”

  “You like being scared.” Jalen proved his point by pouncing on Trevor, pinning him to the mattress in a smooth move.

  “By you.” Trevor grinned up at him, not intimidated in the least. “He’s too intense. And straight.”

  “You love straight,” Jalen pointed out.

  “No, I don’t. I love you.”

  Oh man. That goofy grin. Jalen couldn’t keep from kissing him silly.

  “Yup. Done with scary, intense straight guys,” Trevor said when Jalen let him up for air.

  “Maybe I’ll take him, then,” Jalen said without a hint of seriousness. “You know I got that bass love.”

  “We’re never, ever letting you near my friend Lucas.” Trevor shoved at Jalen’s shoulders. “He can go even lower than Michelin.”

  “Oh yeah? How low can he go?” Jalen winked at Trevor, lightly tickling him because he really did want to play and this was as good a reason as any to provoke a mock fight.

  “Not as far as me.” Trevor looked
down at Jalen’s dick, which had escaped the towel, and despite mutual handjobs in the shower, it was looking mighty interested in the suggestion in Trevor’s eyes. “’Course you’re not getting anything now.”

  Eyebrows waggling, Trevor wriggled out from under Jalen.

  “Oh fuck yeah, I love a huge bed.” Jalen laughed as he gave chase. “It’s like a big wrestling ring.”

  “You’re bizarre.” Trevor tossed a pillow at him.

  “And you love me anyway,” Jalen challenged, pulling him forward by the ankle.

  “That I do.” Trevor was still laughing at him. “And you need to stop going so easy on me.”

  “Easy?” Jalen tried to play it like he had no clue what Trevor meant.

  “Ever since the hospital, your wrestling moves couldn’t hold an arthritic ninety-year-old down,” Trevor complained. “And I’ve got five days of good blood sugar readings that say I can take whatever you want to dish out.”

  “That so?” Jalen drawled. Trevor had a point. They’d rubbed off as often as always and wrestled around some, but Jalen was all about making sure Trevor didn’t overexert himself.

  “Yup.” Trevor scooted up by the other pillows. “Come and get me. I won’t break. Promise.”

  Jalen studied him, trying to decide—

  “You’re totally looking at me like you can’t decide how to let me win the fastest. What do I need, some cue cards or bad music? Ring bunnies?”

  “Ring bunnies. As if. That’s not real wrestling. That’s theater. It’s Olympic stuff that I like.” Jalen used the shift in Trevor’s attention to capture him again, hands loose enough for Trevor to toss him off again. And then they were off, wrestling like a pair of puppies.

  Trevor egged him on, asking to see a few different moves.

  “You really get off on this?” Jalen asked after demoing a Gazzoni escape to Trevor’s attempt to pin him.

  “You have to ask?” Their towels had been long since forgotten, and Trevor was every bit as hard and panting as Jalen. “You know what I thought when I saw you sitting there at the studio? In your wrestling shirt?”

  “My lucky wrestling shirt.”

  “Your sexy-as-hell lucky wrestling shirt. I thought, ‘Boy, I want to get pinned by him.’ And then every dirty wrestling fantasy I’ve ever had unspooled. So, no, it’s not just your thing.”

  “It’s our thing,” Jalen agreed, taking Trevor back down, but Trevor surprised him with a back arch. Trevor had clearly been taking notes—and took advantage of the momentum to flip their positions so that he straddled Jalen’s waist.

  Their dicks dragged against each other and Jalen moaned. “You know I don’t always have to win.”

  “No?” Trevor grinned down at him. Trevor had never expressed the slightest interest in being on this side of things, but his wicked grin made Jalen only too eager to be flat on his back like this.

  “This works, too,” he said huskily, working a hand free so he could stroke Trevor’s hip, urging him harder.

  “Oh yeah.” Trevor’s eyes fluttered shut. He released Jalen’s other hand. “Move me.”

  And then they weren’t wrestling but kissing, long and slow, Jalen pulling Trevor hard against him. Their legs tangled until Trevor straddled one of Jalen’s thighs, the angle letting Jalen’s dick ride Trevor’s side. Using his hand, he angled his dick toward his hipbone, so that their shafts rubbed together.

  “Oh fuck.” Trevor gasped at the contact.

  “That’s it. Ride me,” Jalen demanded, hands bracketing either side of Trevor’s fine ass. He pulled Trevor back and forth, matching Trevor motion for motion. One of his fingers slid into Trevor’s crack.

  “That. That. Please that,” Trevor chanted, arching into the touch.

  Jalen made the contact more deliberate, traced Trevor’s rim around and around while rocking up into him. Trevor whimpered, and a new want inside Jalen caught hold.

  “Trev? Did you bring . . . stuff?” Jalen panted. They’d played around a bit with lube and the slim plug they’d bought at the sex shop earlier in the week, but it hadn’t occurred to Jalen to pack either.

  Luckily, Trevor obviously planned better, and he scampered off Jalen, yanking open a pocket on his bag and tossing a small bottle on the bed. Jalen got a glimpse of foil packets in the same pocket.

  “Bring them, too,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah?” Trevor raised an eyebrow, but he tossed one next to the lube.

  “Come back?” Jalen held his arms open. Part of the reason Jalen had never been too keen on fucking was the interruptions. He loved the way wrestling and kissing could morph into frot so seamlessly. But other activities required planning, and planning resulted in thinking and—

  “We don’t have to.” Trevor straddled him again, dick dragging against Jalen’s stomach. “You’re thinking too hard. Let’s go back to the fun part.”

  “You’re the perfect guy for me,” Jalen said, because Trevor totally was. He was the right guy to try this with. The only guy Jalen could imagine being here with. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “No, you weren’t.” Trevor kissed his nose. “You were wondering about positions and prep and how in the heck I find any of that sexy.”

  “Okay. A little of that, too.” Jalen laughed and kissed him. “But mainly that you’re perfect, and you’re the one I want to try this with. You’re so sexy when I touch you there. I want to see your face when I’m in you. I want to be in you.”

  “I want that, too.” Trevor kissed him, and their bodies picked up where they’d left off, even if Jalen’s mind was still galloping behind a bit. But the rub of Trevor against him, the slide of their dicks across each other, the little breathless sounds Trevor made when Jalen held his ass, all got him back to the point where he wanted more.

  More sounds. More skin. More trembling. More gasps and pleas from Trevor as Jalen circled his hole again, this time with slick fingers.

  “Like that,” Trevor whispered as Jalen worked a finger in. “Just . . . there.”

  Jalen knew when he found the right spot because Trevor’s eyes fluttered shut and his hips slowed to little jerks against Jalen, matching his broken moans. “Right there. So good. Ungh. Two. Try two.”

  Two fingers was a little trickier, but Trevor mewled and undulated against him like he’d been drugged, pushing away Jalen’s worries of hurting him.

  “Jay . . . oh God, Jay . . . could totally come like this.”

  Moment of truth: wouldn’t take a whole lot for him to come like this, too, the combination of slippery grinding and fingering Trevor. But that new drumbeat inside his head, the one that kept urging more, spoke up and said simply, “Don’t.”

  “’Kay.” Trevor’s eyes were wide and glassy. “Want to really turn me on?”

  “Yeah,” Jalen breathed.

  “Switch positions. Want you to hold me down while you touch me like this. Love it when you’re over me. Want to fly.”

  He withdrew his fingers and let Trevor scramble off him. He caught sight of that gleaming silver package next to them. How was he supposed to know when the right moment was to put it on?

  Reading his mind, Trevor said, “You can if you want. Totally ready.”

  He emphasized his point by stretching his arms overhead, touching the wooden headboard. The guy totally knew what turned Jalen’s crank, that was for sure. Trevor’s legs dropped open and Jalen probably wasn’t ever going to get a clearer do-me signal than that. He picked up the condom. “Do these things have instructions on them? Should I—”

  “Stop thinking.” Trevor grabbed the condom and the lube, and he had Jalen suited up and all slick before Jalen even had a chance to register Trevor’s touch on his dick. Trevor flopped back into his previous position. “Now. Quit overthinking this. Hold me down and fuck me hard.”

  Trevor really hoped the please-fuck-me-now command was the right way to go. He didn’t want to pressure Jalen into sex at all, but Jalen seemed more nervous than reluctant—and he’d been nothing ot
her than enthusiastic ever since the condom and lube came out.

  “Want this to be good for you.” Jalen moved between Trevor’s legs, gazing down at him with an expression that could only be described as wonder.

  “More worried about it being good for you,” Trevor admitted, stretching toward him.

  Jalen laughed. “Considering I’m trying to figure out how I don’t come right away, I’d say you don’t have to worry.”

  Holding his dick, he pressed forward the tiniest fraction. Trevor moaned and pushed up to meet him. “You’re killing me here. Give it to me.”

  “Don’t make me gag you.”

  “Promises, promises.” Trevor hooked his hands under the headboard, restraining himself as surely as if Jalen had ordered his hands there.

  “You’re so fucking perfect.” Jalen thrust forward another millimeter, and Trevor preened. Perfect. He’d waited his whole life to be perfect for someone, and the love and affection shining down from Jalen’s face made everything sparkle, every movement, every caress that much more potent.

  Another small thrust and Jalen’s cock head stretched Trevor’s rim, the best kind of burn. Jalen was far bigger than two fingers or the plug they’d played with, but Trevor welcomed the intense sensations—not pain, like there had been the last time he did this, more an overwhelming cascade of burn and stretch, need and want.

  “More,” he moaned, and finally, Jalen gave a real thrust, sliding partway in before he paused.

  “Holy, holy cow.” Jalen’s eyes went wide. His face tightened as he slid back again, then forward further. His hand dropped from his dick and one more thrust fully lodged him in Trevor.

  “Oh fuck.” Trevor’s fists clenched, fighting the urge to drop down to his dick, finish himself off fast.

  Jalen finally complied with Trevor’s order and braced one hand on Trevor’s shoulder, the other pushing Trevor’s leg back, effectively pinning him in place as he started thrusting for real.

  “Jesus. So hot.” Jalen tilted his hips, searching out new angles, and Trevor encouraged his efforts with a series of moans.