My Old Man

by Tymber Dalton

  They all gave a cheer and clapped before heading out to the entry to await their cue.

  Jonah tucked his IEMs in place. “Remember,” he softly said to Gordon, “just follow me. You’re playing with me—no one else.”

  Gordon nodded. Then the cue was given and they all headed out. Jonah and Gordon followed Mevi, Bonnie, Pasch, Troy, and Garth. As they all took their places, Pasch climbed behind his drum set and started counting a rhythm that would take them into their first song. Mevi started on the front mic and would sing lead vocals on the first two songs of their set before he picked up a guitar to play.

  The jolt Jonah received from the energy the crowd brought to the arena was better than any high he could have imagined. As he picked up his guitar and moved into position, he watched Gordon’s face, waiting until he met Jonah’s gaze and nodded.

  Jonah smiled as he watched Gordon pop one of his IEMs out and watch him.

  By the third song, he could tell Gordon had loosened up a lot, to the point he’d actually replaced the IEM and was interacting with Jonah now. Smiling, and with a loose and easy way about his playing. Gordon was on an acoustic fitted with a wireless pickup, and Jonah currently played an electric, but he’d be switching out later.

  As they played through the first part of the set, Mevi arched an eyebrow at Jonah, who nodded, and he knew the next song would be his.

  Mevi had already introduced everyone in the band after their opening number, but this time when he stepped forward, Jonah quickly swapped out for his classical guitar, which he’d had staged off to the side and out of Gordon’s immediate view.

  When Gordon glanced back at him and saw it, he frowned, obviously confused by what Jonah was doing, but he swapped out for his classical guitar, too, when Jonah prompted him.

  The roadies moved two stools and mics out to the front of the stage.

  “Tonight, we’ve got a special treat for you, ladies and gentlemen,” Mevi said. “I know a lot of you have seen the video that Jonah and Gordon made playing ‘Word of Mouth,’ and they’re going to play that for you later tonight. First, tonight is Gord’s first tour night with us, and I want everyone to give him a big round of applause.”

  Jonah knew he’d be getting a spanking when Gordon’s face turned red, but he smiled and waved to the crowd.

  “What many of you don’t know,” Mevi continued, “is that Jonah and Gordon aren’t on the market. Sorry, folks. They’re happily married to each other, and Jonah asked the band if he could have a special little surprise for his hubby to mark his first night playing with us before a large audience.”

  They’d almost reached the stools, and Jonah leaned in to brush a kiss against Gord’s lips, loving the smile Gordon gave him.

  “So tonight they’re going to play a special number for you all, one that’s near and dear to their hearts. Take it away, Jonah.”

  Jonah smiled as he surveyed the crowd before he leaned in to speak into the mic. “I sprung this on Gord tonight, but he’s too modest. We’ve known each other for the better part of twenty years, and he’s one of the best guitar players I know. You all know me, but I wanted you to get to know him.” He turned to smile at Gord. “Play with me, Sir.” Jonah knew the audience wouldn’t catch that last part, and even if they did, who cared?

  Jonah pulled out his IEMs and nodded to Gord, who did the same.

  When Jonah started playing “Cavatina,” Gord smiled and followed him into it without hesitation. The crowd disappeared, and it was just him and Gord playing for each other, off each other, bouncing the music back and forth like a tennis ball, their special customizations to it, the duets, the way they sped it up and rocked it before dropping back into dreamy harmonies.

  Jonah remembered someone who knew the song from the movie The Deer Hunter once asking how they managed to make it sound so…different. Certainly not a standard choice for a couples’ song.

  But it was their song. It’d become their song as they fought to learn it, to master it, because their first guitar teacher in middle high, Mrs. Giardina, had loved it and instilled a passion to play in both of them. And it wasn’t an easy song to play.

  Once they’d mastered it, when practicing together they’d started customizing it over the years, experimenting with other techniques, slowly changing it and adapting and improvising. Most of those hours were spent on the balcony at their shitty old apartment. That’s where the piece really began to morph into its own animal, a composition that people thought they knew, but when they heard it with their changes, it was new.

  Over time it became something unique, the skeleton of the original music the stable base they built their own creation over. No longer melancholy, but sounding more playful and full of hope.

  Theirs.

  And that was what they played tonight, the crowd going wild as Jonah looked into Gordon’s eyes and played only to him.

  It was why he’d picked that particular song to coax Gordon into playing with him that first night in the studio at Mal and Doyle’s house, trying to break the ice and get him to respond.

  It was theirs.

  In the early days together, they’d had each other, and their love, and their music, and damn little else.

  Gordon smiled as they neared the end of the song, which arrived too soon for Jonah’s liking, but Gordon surprised him. Instead of ending the song, he immediately played the intro to “Classical Gas,” and now it was Jonah following him, his Master once again in control. Their version of it for this crowd was high-octane, upbeat, even faster than the original

  The crowd went crazy.

  When they finished that one, Jonah leaned in and kissed Gordon, which earned them another round of screaming applause. Mal, who now wore a guitar, stepped forward with a mic in hand.

  “Aren’t they fantastic? You’ll hear more from them in a little while. Let’s give it up for Gordon and Jonah!”

  As they headed back to their spots and swapped out instruments, Gordon stole one more kiss from him. “Thank you, boy,” he silently mouthed to Jonah.

  Chapter Eight

  When it came time to play the acoustic set, Gordon played classical guitar to Jonah’s mandolin, while Jonah finally sang the song for him. Mevi sat on a stool next to them and sang backup harmony to Jonah’s lead vocals, something that blew Gordon’s mind despite knowing they’d practiced.

  To hear his boy sing the words and music he’d written for him, in front of all these people—his love song to his boy—was…indescribable.

  When they finished the song, Mevi spoke up, a smile on his face. “Just for the folks in the audience, to let you know, you all are hearing that song first. Gordon wrote it, music and lyrics.” He looked over at them. “Did you finally give it a title?”

  Jonah grinned and leaned in close to the mic. “I did. I titled it ‘My Old Man’.”

  The crowd exploded, laughing and cheering.

  Then they started playing “Word of Mouth.” The crowd once again thundered as they recognized the opening riffs from the viral video, singing along with Mevi. As Mevi sang, Gordon played to Jonah, focused only on him.

  Jonah had been absolutely right. When Gordon did that, every fear disappeared. He was there with his boy, playing with him, playing to him, like they’d played countless times before. The crowd just happened to be able to watch and listen this time.

  But Jonah was the only one who mattered to Gordon.

  Once through that, they moved into the final medley set with the whole band, and Gordon realized their time had passed far more quickly than he’d imagined it would. The adrenaline rush coursing through him, the energy filling the space—it was truly amazing.

  By the time they finished their third encore, Gordon completely understood what Jonah loved so much about playing large venues. Except for the coffee shop, or when busking, most of the events Gordon played were ones he was meant to be more of a background than a feature. Weddings, cocktail parties—he was meant to be ambiance and not the focus of events.


  Tonight, however, everyone was there to see them play, and receiving such immediate and overwhelming response from the crowd was a rush he’d never felt before, a heady sensation, one he knew he could quickly grow addicted to.

  By the time they finished the meet-and-greet with the VIP ticket holders, and both bands were loaded in SUVs for the short drive to the hotel in downtown Tampa, Gordon wished they could spend the night celebrating.

  Except they wouldn’t really have time to celebrate tonight. They had to be up and moving and downstairs by four a.m. to catch their charter flight to Dallas, their next stop. Hell, the poor roadies wouldn’t even go to sleep. They’d be breaking down the stage and equipment and getting it moved to the airport. They’d be able to nap on the plane ride, and for a couple of hours that afternoon once they were set up and had completed sound checks at their next venue. Other than Wembley, all the stops on this tour were in the US, and it’d be a grind, hardly any days off.

  Gordon and Jonah were both worn out from the day, and combined with the early wake-up, there would be no fooling around tonight. They shared a long, sweet shower before climbing into bed together, Jonah nestled against Gordon’s side.

  “Love you, Master,” Jonah sleepily whispered.

  Gordon nuzzled his face against Jonah’s. “Love you, too, boy.”

  Jonah tipped his head back to meet his gaze. “Well? What’d you think.”

  “You were absolutely right.” Gordon smiled, kissing him. “When I focused on you, my nerves disappeared.”

  “See? I’ll always take care of you, Master.” Jonah closed his eyes, snuggled a little tighter against Gordon, and fell asleep almost immediately.

  Despite his exhaustion, Gordon lay there for another couple of minutes, trying to let his brain wind down. It finally struck him that, ever since Jonah’s return to his life, his sobriety had finally taken a back seat to his daily life. Not that he didn’t take conscious steps and make deliberate decisions to stay sober, but it felt like those sweet days before Jonah left him, before things broke down between them.

  He might be Jonah’s Master, but Jonah truly was his Higher Power, the one thing he’d never give up fighting to hold on to. That meant fighting for and maintaining his sobriety.

  At least they were sharing a bed every night for this tour. And, unlike the last tour, Jonah wasn’t wearing the chastity cage.

  Although it was packed in Jonah’s luggage, just in case Gordon decided to be a bit of a bastard.

  Gordon had no real desire to make his boy wear it, when it would only hamper his own playtime. In fact, as they snuggled into their seats on the airplane the next morning, raising the armrest between them, their seatbelts fastened, they had the row to themselves and Gordon pulled a blanket over them.

  Their blanket, a king-sized, blue, thick fleece blanket with stars and polar bears on it that Gordon had found at Target. Knowing their privacy would be limited, and their downtime would be limited, he’d bought it a few weeks ago and they had been snuggling with it on the couch, in bed—it was theirs, a bit of home they could carry with them, along with their pillows.

  Right now, as everyone settled and the flight crew prepared for takeoff, Gordon, who was sitting in the middle seat, reached over and stroked his fingers over Jonah’s bulge. He’d deliberately placed Jonah in the window seat, giving them a little bit of cover.

  Jonah softly whimpered, making Gordon’s cock twitch with interest even despite the early hour.

  Gordon snuggled closer. “Just teasing you right now, boy. I plan on fucking you before landing. Just wanted to make sure you’re paying attention. Right now, let’s take a nap.”

  “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

  He chuckled. “You’re very welcome, boy.”

  * * * *

  Although with his cock now uncomfortably throbbing in his shorts, Jonah wasn’t sure sleep would be a viable option at this time, despite the fact that Gordon hadn’t allowed either of them coffee this morning in hopes they could nap on the flight. The flight would last around three hours once they got in the air, and then from the airport, the band would be shuttled to the hotel. There they could get more sleep before they had to be at the arena two hours before showtime.

  Except for the leg over to the UK for their last stop, they’d be using the same aircraft and flight crew, a fleet of rental trucks meeting them at every stop to ferry the equipment to the venue and back. For next summer’s tour, the US portion of it would be ground travel, with three busses—two for the bands and one for the crew—and two semis to haul their gear, set, and other equipment.

  They hadn’t set the final dates for that tour yet. Clark was still hammering out the final agreements with venues, but it looked like it would start literally the day after Gordon’s final day of teaching before summer break, and would likely continue into September.

  Meaning Gordon wouldn’t be able to finish the summer tour with them, except maybe flying out on weekends for those dates.

  But that would be hard on him, and Jonah struggled with feeling both greedy and guilty. Having Gordon back in his life was a dream come true, now that his career was back on track. But those three years he’d been gone meant Gordon had to struggle—not just financially, but emotionally and mentally, as well. Gordon had thought he was to blame for their rift, when the truth was, he’d been totally innocent.

  It’d all been Jonah’s fault.

  That was guilt Jonah wasn’t sure he’d ever fully live down deep inside him, despite Gordon insisting he didn’t hold it against him.

  Which was why Jonah was at peace letting Gordon set the schedule of their life and having complete control. Jonah had proven to himself he wasn’t good at running his own life or making sound decisions. That only happened when with Gordon.

  He knew Gord wouldn’t want to hold him back, would want him to be happy, but Jonah also knew Gord might make decisions for Jonah’s benefit regardless of how he himself felt, or what he wanted.

  No more.

  As he snuggled against Gordon and closed his eyes, and with the comforting—albeit teasing—feel of Gordon’s hand now slackly cupping his crotch, he knew he would spend the rest of his life with Gordon doing whatever it took to support the man in every way.

  Including giving up touring, if that’s what Gordon needed from him.

  Finally, once their plane had rumbled down the runway and took off, Jonah closed his eyes and managed to doze off.

  He awakened some time later to the feel of Gordon’s left hand, not over his shorts, like before, but inside his briefs, the warmth of flesh against flesh, cupping what was now an aching, throbbing erection. Jonah struggled not to move, not to make a sound, but Gordon heard it when he softly whimpered.

  Gordon’s breath blew against Jonah’s cheek as he chuckled. “That’s right, baby,” he whispered. “Master’s got you now, don’t I?”

  “Yes, Master,” he whispered back, closing his eyes again as Gordon gave his cock a long, slow squeeze.

  Daaaaamn!

  “We still have over an hour before we land,” Gordon said, his thumb now caressing the head of Jonah’s cock, over the slit and smearing pre-cum around. “We’re going to be card-carrying members of the mile-high club before we land in Dallas.” His hand traveled lower, cupping Jonah’s sac, one finger sneaking even lower and rubbing his taint. “And I’m going to spend a few minutes horning you up so badly that you’re begging me to fuck you in the lavatory.”

  “I’ll beg right now, Master,” he said, keeping his voice down.

  “And I love hearing you beg, baby. But right now I want to play with you. Don’t you dare come all over my hand, either, or you’ll be getting your cage and locking it on for the entire tour.”

  Another whimper slipped from Jonah’s lips. He knew Gord meant it, too.

  Which, of course, made it that much harder to obey.

  He fisted his hands, fingernails digging into his palms as he breathed through the delicious sensations of Gord’s finge
rs exploring, teasing, the calluses on his fingers sensuously rough against the hypersensitive flesh of his cock and balls.

  Ooooh, gawd!

  Jonah wasn’t sure how long Gordon teased him, but finally he gave Jonah’s cock a final squeeze before slipping his hand out. “Front lav is free. I’ll be there in a moment. I’ll knock three times. Your ass better be bare and ready for me by the time I get there. Go.”

  It took Jonah a brief moment to process the order and drag his brain up from where he’d started sinking into subspace. Then he pulled the blanket off, unfastened his seat belt, and hauled himself to his feet.

  It was a well-known secret that on charter flights, or on busses where there weren’t staterooms, there would be some fooling around in the bathroom. Doyle and Mal usually did it several times during a tour, as did others, if their significant other accompanied them. Groupies never traveled with them, though. Hard rule they’d always stuck to, even from the band’s early days, according to Mal. It prevented trouble on the road. What you did in the privacy of your hotel room was your business, but the busses and airplanes were a different matter.

  The only rule was that if the lavatory was occupied, and someone really needed to use it, they would knock twice, wait at least a minute or two, and then knock again.

  If it was an emergency, rapid knocking was employed. If there was only one lav, though, usually whoever was going first might ask, in general, if anyone needed it.

  This plane had two lavs, though, sparing Jonah that task. He locked himself in and quickly dropped trou after retrieving the small tube of lube and condom he’d stashed in his pocket before they’d even taken off.

  When Gordon knocked, Jonah unlocked it and had already turned to brace himself against the counter. Gordon slipped inside with him and locked the door, his appreciative noise making Jonah’s cock throb even more.

  “Good boy.” He heard Gordon unzip, and Jonah held up the condom pouch, then the lube, both of which Gordon took from him.