Syncopation

by Anna Zabo

  Zavier pressed his lips to Ray’s ass, licking and biting until Ray couldn’t help squirming. He clamped his lips closed, but still couldn’t keep from groaning.

  A deep chuckle. “Quiet now.” Zavier spread Ray’s cheeks and mouthed his hole.

  Ray rocked and gasped and shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. It had been years since he’d been rimmed. Zavier’s tongue pressing into him was like a live wire straight to his balls. He moaned around his hand. Despite the sounds—or maybe because of them—Zavier didn’t let up, and fuck, was he good. Ray rocked back, wanting and needing more. He was on fire, his whole body aching to come.

  “Zav...” He whispered the name like a plea and a prayer and a curse all wrapped into one.

  Finally Zavier let up, but only to spit and slide a digit—from the stretch, his thumb—inside Ray. “Shh.” He worked Ray’s ass, stroking and pressing until Ray was gnawing at his fist again, trying to remain silent. But the grunts and groans slipped out anyway. “So needy, aren’t you?” Zavier purred the words, soft and low.

  Eventually, he quit finger—or thumb—fucking him, and the sound of a condom wrapper ripping filtered over the thrum of the bus’s motor. He spread cool lube into Ray’s crack and ass, igniting pinpricks over his back. The thick head of Zavier’s cock nudged against his entrance.

  Please. Please fuck me already. Screaming it out was out of the question, so he pressed his forehead into the seat cushion and mouthed his knuckle. He was so far gone, he’d probably shoot the moment Zavier stroked him. Or hit his prostate.

  “Give me your hands, Ray.” Murmured words. Zavier took hold of the one still behind Ray’s back—and waited.

  He was loath to give it up, but did, offering it at the small of his back. Zavier took the other and brought the wrists together.

  “Very good.” He thrust forward, driving his cock into Ray.

  The burn. The stretch, then the utter joy of being filled. He did groan, not loudly, but enough to elicit a pleased grunt from Zavier, who pulled out and plunged in again.

  Being split by Zavier’s dick was even better now than the first time. Sharp, rapid thrusts drove breath from Ray’s lungs and burned against the bruises from Zavier’s spankings. He squirmed with the sharp bursts of heat against his flesh, and torment turned to color and light in his vision.

  Oh yeah, he’d feel this in the morning. Love it, too. Loved it right now. He pressed back into Zavier’s thrusts, meeting his rhythm until they were one quick beat. Synchronized and perfect, just like on stage.

  “Fuck, Ray,” Zavier murmured, his voice tight. He shifted his grip on Ray’s wrists, catching them with one hand. The other Zavier wrapped around Ray’s dick.

  Sparks of bliss and agony burst in Ray’s blood. He whimpered. Didn’t mean to, but his balls ached and his spine was on fire and he was going to come in an instant. Took every bit he had not to spill over Zavier’s hand then and there.

  Zavier leaned over him, weighing him down, whispering into his ear. “You wanna come so bad, don’t you? But you won’t. Not yet.”

  He stroked Ray harder, and Ray squeezed his eyes closed. Red and white halos flashed in his vision. He was gonna die here. Burst something. He couldn’t even plead. It was all he could do to suck down air and rock back on Zavier’s cock.

  The thrusts ramped up, as did Zavier’s hand, and it was fucking perfect—brutal and yet tender. Ray spun between the poles of desire and agony and his whole world tunneled down to color and sound and light.

  “Now, Ray.”

  His orgasm raked through him. Someone gasped—maybe him. Probably him. Then everything hazed and sparked until he couldn’t see or hear. Zavier thrust deep, groaning as he came, then stilled and lay over him. He wanted to stay that way forever, but a moment later, Zavier pulled out and let go of Ray’s wrists.

  “Hey.” Zavier whispered the word into his ear.

  Ray tried to reply, but it came out as a croak. His head swam in light and darkness and pleasure. Buzzed like being drunk. He swam though the overwhelming feelings, trying to find his way back to coherency.

  Hard, especially since he liked being here—fucked into oblivion.

  Hands on his body again, this time to turn him to his side and straighten his body out. Zavier crouched in front of him. “Green, yellow, or red?” Concern there.

  “Green,” Ray murmured. So much so. “That was...incredible.”

  “Not too much?” Zavier stroked his hair.

  “No.” His voice was breath. “Never too much. Perfect.” He licked his lips. “You fuck me like no one else ever has.”

  He couldn’t tell if it was delight or sadness that flickered over Zavier’s face. He leaned in and kissed Ray’s forehead. “Man, you’ve had shitty lovers.”

  He shrugged. “Not shitty. Just not you. No one’s ever pushed me like that. Or asked me what I wanted before we even started. Most just want me to get them off, you know? Or maybe I was the shitty lover, only out for myself.” Yeah, that could’ve been it, too. God, he was an asshole.

  Zavier murmured against his forehead, “I’ll take care of you, Ray. Fuck you nice and good. Teach you how to please me.”

  He relaxed into Zavier’s embrace. “I don’t want to be a burden. I’m such a burden.”

  “You’re no such thing.” Zavier chuckled. “And it’s not like I’m being entirely altruistic by upending you and ramming your ass until I come.”

  Okay, there was that. “Will you—will you tie me down someday?”

  Zavier exhaled and nibbled at Ray’s ear. “Just wait until we get to our next hotel and you see what I ordered off of Amazon.”

  He never thought those particular words would make him shiver. “Fuck.” But of course they’d sell sex toys. They sold everything.

  Zavier stood and offered him a hand. “Time to sleep, I think.”

  Ray took it and let Zavier pull him up. Oh yeah, he’d be reminded of this night as soon as he woke in the morning. Zavier turned off the reading light, and they both slipped back into their bunks, as quietly as they could. Dom was still snoring softly. No telling if Mish was awake or not.

  Though, if the slight throb on his shoulder was anything to go by, they’d be able to tell something had happened as soon as Ray crawled out of bed. Of course Zavier had bitten the shoulder with hardly any ink.

  Zavier had marked him. Claimed him. No strings attached but those Ray put there himself. He stared up into the darkness. One thing was for sure: it was nice to be wanted and a relief to be looked after—even only in this manner. He closed his eyes and let the hum of the road and the ache of his body lull him to sleep.

  * * *

  Zavier kept the leather bracelets and cuff on even when they weren’t performing, because Ray couldn’t stop looking at them. He’d already ordered several items, including restraints, from Amazon and had them shipped to their next hotel. Yes, the cost of having the box held would be astronomical, but undoubtedly worth it, given the way Ray reacted to every single touch, smile, and suggestion.

  The memory of Ray melting into submission at Zavier’s feet stirred both need and peace in him. He’d had compliant subs before and bratty ones, too. He’d fucked and played with a great many people in his life, but the way Ray reacted moved Zavier on a deeper level. Toping Ray was fulfilling—and not only in the sexual sense.

  They complemented each other with their friendship, with Ray’s brashness, sexuality, kink, and that inherent neediness to be taken from the world.

  Unexpected, yes. But like syncopated beats, they might not share the same exact rhythm, but they merged and found each other, over and over. Zavier had wanted that kind of meeting of minds with someone for so long. That he could help Ray as well? Keep him steady and relaxed? Even better.

  In Phoenix, Zavier managed to get Ray alone for a few minutes in the hours before they went on stag
e. Enough time to pull back the collar of his T-shirt and kiss the bruise on his shoulder. The one that looked exactly like the sexy bite mark it was. He’d no doubt when Ray tore off his shirt, every camera would focus on that.

  “Carl will have words,” Zavier murmured against Ray’s skin.

  Ray relaxed in Zavier’s arms and said, “Let him. Don’t care anymore.”

  At some level, Zavier didn’t care, either, but a voice in the back of his brain reminded him that Carl hadn’t fucked with Ray—or the band—in a while. Which was unusual and troubling, but he set the worry aside.

  “I have something for you.” He let Ray’s T-shirt cover up the bite mark. “To keep you grounded.”

  “It’s not something like a butt plug, is it?”

  Zavier laughed. “I don’t think you’d be able to move like you do onstage with even the smallest plug.” He paused. “Have you been plugged in the past?”

  Red touched Ray’s cheeks. “No.”

  “Played with toys?”

  He shook his head.

  Oh, good. So some of the other items would be a new experience for Ray, too. “It’s not a butt plug.” He pulled a thin, tightly woven rainbow-colored cotton bracelet out of his pocket. Ray studied it and held out his wrist.

  “No. That’s not where it’s going.” Zavier smiled at Ray. Oh, the confusion, then realization. That blush grew deeper and he shifted from foot to foot. “If you’re willing.”

  “On my dick.” Ray licked his lips. “You want to tie it around my dick.”

  Zavier nodded and waited.

  “Yeah. God, yeah. Do it.”

  So Zavier did. Even dropped to his knees to unzip Ray’s pants, which got him a moan. Ray was already semi-hard by the time Zavier freed his dick. Precome and everything. He stole a taste of salt from the tip and savored Ray’s gasp and tremble. Then he tied the bracelet around the base, tucked Ray back in the best he could, and zipped him up.

  Huge pupils, flushed face. “I can feel it.”

  “That’s the point. I want you to feel it. I want you to know who owns your ass, at least in bed.”

  Ray swallowed. “I thought this was just a sex thing. Not that you own me own me.”

  Yeah, they were walking close to that line. “It’s a game. You’re still your own. You can take that off if you want and nothing will come of it, I promise.” Zavier cocked his head. “You can always, always say no to me.”

  “Green,” Ray murmured.

  This man was too much. Zavier took that mouth until Ray moaned, then broke the kiss. “Let’s go kill ’em tonight.”

  * * *

  They did exactly that until they were drenched in sweat and exhausted. Zavier’s back burned and Ray looked like he might fall over, though his smile was so bright they could use it as a spotlight. Carl lurked in the wings, frowning, and once the encores were over he marched into the green room, where the band had collapsed, and pointed at Ray. “What the hell is that?”

  Ray followed the path of Carl’s pointing finger to his shoulder. “It’s a hickey. A bite mark.” Carl stared. Ray stared back before lifting an eyebrow. “Yeah, I got it during sex. You got a problem with that?”

  Rather than reply, Carl stomped out of the room.

  Dom shook his head, finally not blushing at the mention of sex. “You’d think he’d never met rock stars before.”

  “He’s probably going to try to figure out who gave it to Ray.” Mish rubbed her feet. “Which is idiotic, ’cause Zav’s right here.”

  Zavier couldn’t help laughing. If Carl didn’t want to put two and two together, well, he wasn’t about to help him.

  They cleaned up for the signing lines—Ray back in a T-shirt—and managed to get through everyone before midnight. Then it was back onto the bus and off to Utah. Long trip, but one with a hotel room at the end and a day off from playing. Even with Ray giving him those long, hooded looks, Zavier didn’t have much energy left, either to dominate or fuck. Still, when Ray headed toward the back of the bus, he followed.

  Mish and Dom both had smirks. Zavier rolled his eyes at them, but smiled anyway. He pulled the privacy curtain closed.

  Ray stood in the space, swaying with the bus, and staring at the couch on which they’d taken so much pleasure. “I had to ditch the bracelet. It was pretty disgusting by the time the concert was over.”

  “That’s fine.” Zavier swept a hand over Ray’s back. He felt the shudder when he cupped Ray’s neck. “Figured that might happen.”

  “Hence string and not leather?” Ray met his gaze. There was a hunger there, a deep, deep hunger. But none of the other signs that meant Ray was a live wire of lust.

  “Exactly.” He let his hand fall away. “Is there something you want?”

  Ray nodded slowly. “It’s—not sex, though. I’m beat.”

  “Ditto.”

  “But my mind won’t stop. I—god. Do you ever get music and words and everything just—tangled up in there?”

  “No, but other things, yes.” He pulled Ray toward the couch. “Tell me about it.”

  Ray sat and dropped his hands into his head. “The words are easy to get out. I write them down, even if they’re shitty. But the music—the colors and the shapes and the lines—I can’t stop seeing them. Feeling them in my blood.” He lifted his head. “I bet that makes no sense. I’ve tried to tell Mish and Dom, but they don’t get it.”

  “Don’t worry about it making sense to me.” Zavier focused on Ray, whose gaze shifted from object to object in the room. “Tell me anyway. I want to know.”

  “I...see music, Zav. Like see it. Shapes and colors and...” He shrugged. “Been that way forever. I put hues and forms together on the guitar until they look right.”

  Fuck, Ray really had been a musical prodigy. Hell. Someone should have noticed. “Synesthesia,” he said.

  Ray nodded. “Yeah. I found out there was a name for it on the internet.” He laughed. “Was kind of a relief.”

  One Zavier knew well, for different reasons.

  “I do note things down with colored pens and stuff. But sometimes my brain gets so fucking full.” Ray sighed and collapsed against the back of the couch. “Would it be weird if I—knelt at your feet? Like the first time? Not for sex. Not even to submit or whatever it is I do when I get all out of my head to obey you—but just to be here? With you?”

  The worry there. Warmth spread through Zavier, and his chest ached. “Ray, you can always kneel like that if you need to. Or we can sit. Whatever you need from me.” He dropped his hand on Ray’s knee. Kept it there.

  Ray relaxed under his touch. “Told you I was a burden. Just ask Dom.”

  “Shush. I bet Dom would disagree.”

  “Oh, he would, just to spite me.” Ray rolled his head and met Zavier’s gaze. “He’s put up with my antics for years, but we’re not like this.” He gestured between the two of them. “He’s not touchy-feely. You like touching me.”

  “Like I said, not entirely altruistic on my part.”

  Ray laughed. “But it’s not always sexual.”

  That was true, too. He pulled Ray’s head down into his lap. “This okay, or do you really want to kneel on the floor with your forehead on my shoes?”

  “Wanna do both. But this is fine.” Ray’s words were soft, and his body relaxed.

  Zavier stroked his hair. “Tell me what you see.”

  “I’m calling it ‘Dare to Be.’” Then Ray whispered words and colors. Shapes. Sometimes he spoke so low, Zavier couldn’t hear. He also tapped out a beat on Zavier’s thigh, one Zavier echoed and improvised with on his back, until Ray was humming and singing and then slipping into sleep. A continuation of the song Ray’d been working on before. And now Zavier had the name—one even Mish and Dom didn’t know. He held on to that like a talisman.

  How many years had it been since he’d had
a friend like Ray? One he could sit and be with? He couldn’t remember. Once sex came into the picture, everyone had always expected more from him. Some great romantic connection. Dinners and presents and declarations. But Ray didn’t seem to need that and it was a fucking miracle.

  He fell asleep at some point, too, and woke when Mish pulled back the privacy curtain. She smiled at them and pointed to the bathroom.

  Zavier waved his hand. He could stay like his forever, but Ray would probably be more comfortable in his bunk. He stroked his fingers through Ray’s hair. “Hey...”

  Ray stirred. “Fuck—uh. What time is it?”

  “No idea. Mish needed the bathroom and that woke me up.”

  Ray gripped Zavier’s knee. “Guess we should sleep in real beds, huh?”

  “That’s not until Utah. But you’re gonna get a huge knot in your neck if you sleep on me all night.”

  Ray moaned and sat up. “Yeah. Probably.”

  When Mish cleared the bathroom, they all headed up and crawled into their respective berths.

  “Zav?” Ray’s voice filtered down from above.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for listening.”

  Yeah, there was that warm content feeling again. Like sitting in the sun or lying on a beach. A perfect moment. “Always.”

  Nothing more, just the rumble of the bus and the soft sounds of his bandmates falling asleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The concert at the venue near Salt Lake City nearly left Ray naked. He’d jumped into the crowd and bodysurfed, but it had gotten pretty damn rowdy and he’d lost a good part of his pants and had been felt up more in those few minutes than all his times cruising bars.

  By the time he’d make it back on stage, he’d been laughing and high with adrenaline, but after the show, he’d realized just how lucky he’d been not to be dropped. Still, he loved running out into the crowd.

  Carl, predictably, was furious. “You so eager to show your dick, Ray?”

  “Not particularly.” He was also too damn tired to get upset with Carl or get down on himself. Plus, there’d be a hotel bed tonight. Two. One for him and one for Zavier. Which one he’d end up in, he didn’t care, as long as Zavier was there.