Syncopation

by Anna Zabo

  He moaned and squirmed and gasped. So close. “Zav. Fuck, Zav. I don’t know what to do.”

  A chuckle. “Fuck yourself, Ray. Nice and hard. Pound that bed until you come all over it.”

  Fuck. Ray pulled at the binding, let go, and did exactly what Zavier said. It hurt a little—the fabric was rough and not slick, but the friction was incredible. Thrusting as Zavier had ordered drove the plug against his sweet spot over and over until the bursts of lights in his vision turned too bright. He groaned out as his orgasm overtook his body.

  “Fuck, yeah, Ray. Keep going.” Gravel in Zavier’s words. The bed dipped.

  Ray shuddered and twisted because the plug wouldn’t stop shifting, wouldn’t stop driving him high even when his balls emptied. Too much, not enough.

  Then Zavier’s hand was on his back, stilling him. “I’m taking it out,” he whispered.

  The loss was both relief and agony. Ray missed being full. “Don’t—no. Need...”

  “Mmm. I’m not finished with you yet.” Pressure against his ass again—then Zavier’s dick was sliding in, replacing the plug.

  Lights and sparks and heat. Wasn’t going to come again, and everything ached as Zavier thrust in and out, but he was there inside him, on him. Weighing him down. Zavier felt like nothing else in the world. “Fuck—yes.”

  A sigh, and maybe it was the yes that did it, because Zavier was ramming into him. As if their bodies needed to be one, as if this was the last thing they’d ever do together. Felt so fucking good, Ray couldn’t help the moans or the shouts or babbling Zav’s name over and over.

  Somehow Zavier found that spot on his shoulder and bit it again before he groaned and pumped hard into Ray, chasing his own pleasure until neither of them was moving.

  Zavier’s huffs as he caught his breath tickled Ray’s ear.

  “Fuck yeah. Yeah.” Ray kept repeating that until Zavier slid out, caught his head and kissed him, over and over until Ray couldn’t speak anymore.

  After that, Zavier rose and released him, taking off the cuffs so reverently, Ray couldn’t help blushing. “It’s like you’re worshiping me.”

  Zavier laughed. “I am, in a very small way. You gifted yourself to me. Let me do this for you.” He kissed Ray’s wrists and ankles, had him roll onto his stomach again and applied some kind of salve to his ass, then drew him up to standing. “We’ve made a mess of this bed.”

  Good thing they had another. Zavier helped Ray into the other room and made him drink a bottle of water before they slipped under the covers together. Ray’s head swam with the ache of his body, his heart, and the swirl of confusion in his head. “Zav?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What do you get out of this?” Surrendering let him out of his mind, but god, the work it must take for Zavier to get him there.

  Zavier kissed his forehead. “Everything.”

  “Not good enough.”

  He felt Zavier chuckle. “It’s too late to explain psychology. I enjoy your pain and your pleasure and your surrender and making you struggle and watching you overcome. I adore being inside you. Biting your skin. Tasting you. Everything, Ray.”

  Oh. Well, that didn’t sound so bad. He liked all those things too, but in reverse. “We match.”

  Another huff of laughter. “In a way, yeah.” Another kiss, like the last. “Go to sleep, Ray. I’ll watch over you.”

  He sighed, relaxed into Zavier’s arms, and obeyed that order, too.

  * * *

  Zavier had to admit that it was nice to wake up next to Ray in a hotel bed. The games and sex they could squeeze in on the bus or at the venue kept him going, as did their chats and their connection with each other. He’d never felt so satisfied by any kinky relationship before. Such a joy to get Ray off and have him obey, even when the orders made him uncomfortable. He’d at least try, like with the spanking last night.

  In some way, their games had helped Ray and given him an outlet—and given him strength to push back at Carl. If it was something as simple and intimate as wearing that bracelet tied around the base of his cock—tight enough to stay and remind him of Zavier—they were both happy enough to command and comply.

  Compatible. Comfortable. That was what they were.

  But a morning like this, where Ray was quiet and sprawled out next to him and sleeping soundly, was a goddamned gift. Zavier resisted the urge to stroke his relaxed features. Beautiful and carefree. While he also enjoyed tense, passionate Ray, there was something about the trusting and vulnerable version that stirred a deep satisfaction in him.

  He’d never tire of this sight.

  So he watched, still heavy with his own waking, as Ray moved from sleep into wakefulness, then finally opened his lovely eyes. His smile was like gold, as was his sleep-rough voice. “Hey.”

  “Good morning.” Now Zavier did reach out and touch Ray’s cheek, tracing the lines of that smile.

  “Wake long?” Happy muttered words. Ray moved closer to him.

  “No. Not too long.”

  “Mmm.” Didn’t take long for Ray to curl up around him, or for Ray to ghost kisses over his shoulder. There were better places for those lips to be, though. He tipped Ray’s chin up, and claimed his mouth.

  Oh, that sweet moan in the back of Ray’s throat. Zavier deepened the kiss, and lingered until Ray was pressed hard against him and trembling with need.

  When he relented, Ray was breathless. “And here I was gonna go lower.”

  He did love Ray’s mouth on his cock, but being on tour made Zavier hyper-aware of Ray’s throat and voice. How sensitive it was to overuse, or to a cold, or deep-throating a cock. “As soon as we’re off tour, I’m going to face-fuck you properly.” He kissed Ray’s neck.

  Ray shuddered, but the stillness after that felt wrong. Zavier pulled back.

  A little line between Ray’s brows, and that inward turn. He wasn’t frowning, but concern had stolen Ray’s smile. He met Zavier’s gaze. “Zav, what are we doing?”

  Pinpricks—the bad, cold kind—traced down Zavier’s legs. Oh god, no. Not this conversation.

  “We’re waking up next to each other in bed.” He tried to keep his voice soft. We were enjoying ourselves. Can’t we just enjoy ourselves?

  Ray opened up space between them and propped his head up on his hand. “I mean—overall. What are we doing?”

  Breaking up, because that was how these conversations always ended, with his partner wanting more than Zavier could ever give. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

  “Wanting to face-fuck me after the tour is over implies you’re gonna stick around. All the plans you have for me later. Yeah, once this tour is over, you’ll be with the band, but seems like you think we’ll still be doing—whatever the hell this is that we’re doing.”

  Zavier swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I like being in the band. I want to hear the rest of ‘Dare to Be’ and all the other music you see, want to add my beat to your songs. Play with Dom and Mish. Make something together.” He paused “And us? I’m...happy. You’re happy. I don’t see why we wouldn’t just—keep doing what we’re doing.”

  Did this have to have a label? Why couldn’t they just be friends? Bed partners? Dominant and submissive. He rubbed his face. Shit. He wasn’t ready for things to end.

  Ray said nothing for a long time, and Zavier studied the texture of the hotel ceiling.

  Finally, Ray shifted, rocking the mattress slightly. “Zavier.” His voice was so tender. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Not the normal question he got in this situation. He risked turning his head and looking into those eyes. “Sure.” He owed Ray that, at least.

  “Did someone hurt you?”

  “What?” He sat up slowly, and took a better look at Ray. There was so much worry in his face, and Zavier didn’t know wh
at to make of it, because what lay there wasn’t disappointment or sadness. “No. What do you mean?”

  “I mean, did someone break your heart? Use you or—” He waved his free hand. “I just want to understand.”

  “No.” If anything, Zavier had been the one to break hearts and use people—not intentionally. “What exactly do you want to understand?” Because suddenly it felt like they were having two different conversations.

  Ray scooted himself up to sitting, and leaned back against the headboard. “I know you said, when we started fucking, not to expect romance or a long-term commitment or anything like that.”

  Zavier nodded, though part of him cringed at the words when we started fucking. Yes, that was what they’d been doing, but it sounded so—cold. And the part about long-term a little foolish. He’d never managed more than a few months with any given partner, unless they were people he occasionally ran into at clubs. But that wasn’t a relationship.

  “Seems like we’re beyond ‘no strings’ now, especially if you’re talking about the future.”

  He had been, hadn’t he? “It’s—we’re friends.” He wasn’t sure what they’d been when they’d started, other than bandmates. “I enjoy your company. I think you like mine, so I don’t see why anything would have to change when the tour’s over.”

  Ray chewed his lip. “So, this is still friends with benefits? With kink on top?” His brow remained furrowed.

  “Yeah.” Was that so wrong? Why was that always so wrong?

  “But you’re not in love with me. Nothing beyond a friendship.”

  And there it was. Very much two statements, rather than questions. Zavier pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m not in love with you. I’ve never been in love with anyone, Ray. I don’t fall in love. I don’t get love. I—” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it. All the romance shit—doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Of all the bedmates he’d had, he’d never felt as fucking torn up as he did now. People came and went in his life. Most of the people he’d fucked were exactly that—someone to fuck. Ray, though...they’d become friends. Good ones. He was comfortable with Ray. Enjoyed his presence and everything about him. They were compatible in so many ways.

  “I’m aromantic.” He wasn’t broken—he knew that, even during moments like this, when he felt shattered, everything was wrong. Why was the world this way? He’d never understand. “You probably don’t even know what that means.”

  That strange silence again. He expected hate or anger or something, but when Zavier lowered his hands and watched Ray, none of those emotions were there. Concern, and that worry from before, yes. But no resentment.

  Ray spoke carefully. “I know what aromantic means, Zav.” He nodded. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

  Heat and cold danced across Zavier’s skin in waves. Ray knew. He knew? He fucking knew?

  Zavier was breathless, and all his control vanished in a tumult of emotions he couldn’t channel. “What makes sense?” His lungs tightened and he fought back the tears, because what damn Dominant ever cried in bed? “Fuck.”

  “It’s okay.” God, Ray’s voice was even beautiful when he murmured. “Everything now. I get it—as much as I can.”

  “Get what?” Zavier repeated. “Me being an emotional mess right now or me being aromantic?”

  “Both,” Ray said. “Though the emotional mess is kinda freaking me out a little. That’s usually my thing.”

  Zavier laughed. He couldn’t help it. Their roles had switched up a little. “Yeah, well. Call it shock. No one’s even known the word before.”

  “I do, though.” Ray was so damn serious.

  “How?”

  He shrugged, and his embarrassment blush crept up from his chest. “We have a lot of queer fans. Get mail and tweets and stuff. Sometimes people used words I didn’t know and I realized I didn’t think that much beyond ‘gay’ and that was pretty shitty of me. So I did research and learned what I could about other identities.”

  That was completely consistent with what Zavier knew about Ray. Everything came back to the band and everything with the band came back to the fans.

  “You’re not disappointed?” If Ray knew what aro meant, he’d know that the chances Zavier would ever fall in love with him were very, very low. Especially since he wasn’t demi or gray or...well, attracted to Ray in any romantic way. Sex, sure. Friendship? Yes, please. But hold the roses and the candlelit dinners and all that.

  “Disappointed? With you? Fuck no. Last night you tied me up, beat me, then fucked me until I couldn’t think. I’ll never be disappointed with you.”

  “Really?” He didn’t quite believe that.

  Ray’s smile had returned. “You aren’t romantic. I mean—you just aren’t. But you like me and you care—”

  “I’m your friend, you asshole, of course I care.” He didn’t know how many times he’d have to say that to get it into Ray’s skull.

  “I know. Point is, you’re not pining after the one true love of your life who broke your heart or some such shit I couldn’t ever compete with.” Ray shrugged. “I’ve dated guys like that. Don’t want to do it again. I was never good enough for them. They always wanted the one that got away—and that wasn’t me.”

  Zavier struggled to wrap his brain around what he thought Ray was saying. He ought to get up and make coffee, but his skin was still in that weird prickly stage after surprise and fear. “So what now?”

  Ray pulled his knees up to his chest, tenting the sheet. “I like this. Being in bed with you. The kink. Being your friend. You’ve helped me so much, and I don’t know if you know that.” He rested his head on his knees. His eyes were soft, and so was his smile. “I just needed to understand what was going on. Best friends with benefits is fine.”

  A second wash of pinpricks cascaded over Zavier, and he scrubbed his arms. They were remaining friends. They weren’t changing anything. Holy fuck. “Best friend? I thought that was Dominic.”

  “Yeah, and Mish, too. I can have more than one best friend, you know.” A little snarky smile with that.

  “Yes, but you’re not fucking them.” Zavier paused. “Why aren’t you fucking Dominic?” They were obviously close and had been since high school. That was a hell of a lot longer than Zavier had known Ray—really known Ray.

  Ray barked out a laugh. “You know, I’d been wondering when you’d ask me that.” He sobered. “Dom was the first person I came out to. And when I did, he came out to me.” A little shake of the head. “We were like fourteen at the time, I think? Anyway, we tried kissing and it was horrible.”

  Zavier chewed on his tongue to keep from laughing. “Horrible?” Kissing Ray was nearly as good as being inside him.

  “Yeah. Felt like we were siblings. Which in some ways we were. And are. Neither of us has a brother, so...we kind of filled that role. Including driving each other nuts.”

  Zavier had seen that enough times on tour. Both of them irritated the other, but in a way that was kind of like siblings did. “Makes sense.”

  Ray had his serious look on again.

  “Please don’t tell me you have another personal question.” Zavier couldn’t cope with being out of his element a second time this morning.

  “No, it’s just that all the aromantic people I’ve ever met or talked to were asexual, too.”

  “And I’m very much sexually attracted to people.”

  “Understatement of the year.”

  Okay, that was enough snark from Ray. Zavier pulled him over, exposing his bruised ass, and slapped him hard. Ray’s yelp was rich and hot and tinged with a moan. So very good, that. He landed several more blows, enough to make Ray’s cheeks red and his body tremble.

  “So, business as usual, then?” Zavier said. Ray was as hard as he.

  “Ohgodyes,” Ray said. “Please.”

  How coul
d he refuse when Ray asked so nicely? “Condom,” he said. “And lube.” Another swat to that lovely ass sent Ray scrambling.

  Ray’s whole body was flush by the time he returned. “Cuffs again?” A little hope in that voice.

  “No, I think this time we’ll try something a little different.” He wanted to be the ropes and cuffs that held Ray. Be his pleasure and punishment. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

  * * *

  Ray’d fucked plenty of times before, been on both the giving and receiving ends, but never like this.

  “I wish there were mirrors so you could see yourself.” Zavier’s words were hot in his ear and his cock deep inside Ray.

  The thrusting, the movement, wasn’t what brought him close to breaking, it was that thought, that image, the one he could nearly see against the white ceiling. The decadence of him splayed on top of Zavier, held tightly, one hand gripping his hip, the other on his shoulder. Arms like ropes, those muscles corded. Ray’s own hands gripped Zavier’s limbs, body writhing with each hard thrust. Open mouth, loud moans, wide eyes. “Fuck, Zav.”

  Incessant and hard, Zavier drove into him as if they could be one person, one soul. Ray’s ass burned from the flogging, the spanking, and now this. The sharpness was like fire, driving him out of his mind. He arched as much as he could against Zavier, wanting more, needing the bliss and light that came when Zav slid deeper into him.

  “Don’t you ever think that I don’t want you.” A whisper of air and a caress of lips. Zavier pumped Ray’s dick, stroking and pulling in time with his relentless fucking.

  Ray shuddered, that peak too close, too near. “Can’t. I’m gonna—”

  Hot words and teeth against his neck. “I want to feel you come around me.”

  After those words, it was all light and heat and pleasure as Ray came hard, spilling himself over Zavier’s hand.

  Didn’t take much longer for Zavier to follow, crying out his own release with such abandonment that Ray wanted those mirrors, so he could see controlled, calculated Zavier Demos wild and shattered because of him. That would be almost enough to get Ray off again, had such a thing been possible. Still, he moaned and shifted against Zavier, and then they were both still.