by R. Cayden
I arranged my drum set on the porch, tools and lumber scattered on the ground around me, popped in some earplugs, and beat out a fast rhythm. I didn’t think about what I was playing, and I didn’t try to warm up. I just let the music rip out, banging through the trees and thrumming deep inside my gut. I pounded and wailed until my muscles burned and sweat dotted my forehead.
Finally, the noise took over. My lingering insecurities and fears burned off, and the only thing left was my body, driven by the rhythm. I paused long enough to throw my shirt to the ground, then turned straight back to my set, losing myself in the noise as the afternoon slipped by.
A few hours later, I made my way back to the main house for a shower and some food. I hadn’t gotten much done after the phone call, but at least I had exhausted myself enough to stop thinking about the band.
When I walked by the kitchen, I spotted Shawn, scrubbing dishes at the sink. “Hey, man,” I called out. My T-shirt was slung over my shoulder, and sweat cooled on my chest. “How you doing today?”
He shook his wet hands off, then turned to me with a smile. “Hi, Cass. I’m all right. I’ve just been reading.”
“Anything good?” I asked. I scratched my belly and noticed his eyes glance down at my hand before they popped back up, making his glasses wobble.
“I guess so,” Shawn answered. “I was having trouble concentrating. I did make lemonade, though. Do you want some?”
I smiled. The excited way he offered it tickled me. “Sure, thanks.”
“It’s hot out there.” He nodded, then turned to grab the pitcher from the fridge.
“I didn’t get much done either,” I confessed. “I’ve been drumming most of the day.”
Shawn poured me a big glass of lemonade, which he slid across the counter. Immediately, I gulped from it. The drink was just the right amount of sweet and way more refreshing than the warm bottle of water I had out at the studio. “Thank you,” I said again.
“No problem,” he replied brightly. “That’s what you do for work, right? Drumming?”
“It pays most of my bills,” I answered. I started to say something about the band but didn’t really want to get into it, and I knew I needed a shower after sweating buckets under the afternoon sun. “If you ever want to hear what I sound like, come out there, and I’ll play you a set.”
Shawn smiled brightly. “Sure, sounds good!”
I chuckled to myself as I headed to the shower. The way he was so agreeable, I was pretty sure I could have offered him a sock puppet show, and he would have acted as excited. Still, there was something really nice about it. Cocky people irritated the hell out of me. It was part of the reason I was so resistant to pursuing an album with the label. None of that bullshit posturing had anything to do with the music.
Drumming with a good band and a small, appreciative crowd—why did everyone act like that was such a disappointment?
I hopped into the shower and let out a long, satisfied groan as cool water fell down my shoulders. I let it blast me for a few minutes before my body temperature dipped, then flipped it back up to warm. The bar of soap in one hand, I let the water wash over my head and pour down my sides.
As I started to lather, my hand founds its way to my cock. I idly played with myself, rubbing at my balls and stroking my shaft. My imagination flickered over well-worn fantasies, strong women with full, curvy bodies and the feel of skin pressed to skin.
Slowly, I started jerking myself. My cock was fat and heavy in my hand, and my palm slicked with soap. I grabbed at my balls and tugged them as I stroked. The exhaustion in my muscles gave way to a flood of desire. My cock rose up hard as steel, and when I rubbed my thumb across my sensitive crown, a pearl of cum was leaking out the slit.
Pictures appeared and disappeared in my imagination. My cock throbbed, an orgasm beating against me from the inside.
And then I thought of Shawn. His face came to me out of nowhere, as clear as if he were standing right there before me. I saw the shower water, dripping down his cheeks and glistening on his lips, and imagined how soft he would feel if I pulled his body close to mine.
I tightened my fist around my shaft, then pumped myself with a steady, slow rhythm. I imagined Shawn turning and pressing back against me.
How his cheeks would feel as I spread them and pushed deep inside.
My muscles hitched. I slammed my free hand against the wall of the shower and shot my load. I erupted in jet after thick jet, the white cum splattering against the tile and then swirling at my feet. The explosive release caught me off guard, and I gasped to catch my breath.
I shook my head, finally coming back to reality. Did I just get off thinking about Shawn?
Thinking about a man?
It must have been the sun, I figured. Too much heat and lemonade, and my brain was jumping all over the place.
But despite how unexpected that was, it didn’t bother me. The whole fantasy came and went so quickly, it was like it was out of my control. And I definitely wasn’t going to complain about an orgasm that strong. My muscles were still trembling as cum dripped from my tip.
I chuckled as I flipped off the water. At least Kentucky wasn’t boring.
Chapter Five
Shawn
Standing in the kitchen in just his cargo shorts, Cass made a satisfied grunt as he gulped down the lemonade. Sweat dotted his forehead, and on his chest swirls of dark hair were matted to his pecs, flat against a black-and-crimson tattoo of a rose. The waistband of his boxers stuck out above his shorts, and my eyes went straight to his abs and the V of his hips.
Cass put the glass down, then stepped closer. “Shawn, Shawn, Shawn,” he said.
I stood there, frozen to the spot. Outside, the banging started up again but much louder than it had ever been before, like there were drums outside of every window.
“Cass,” I answered.
He approached me, then pressed his palm against my chest. I gulped as he felt my body, his big hands exploring and groping while I quivered on full display.
“I’ve always wanted you,” he said. In a flash, we were both naked, and the banging at the windows became explosive, shaking the walls.
“Look at that,” he said, staring at my stiff cock. “Just like I imagined.”
My heart leapt to my throat as I woke with a startle. I was slumped over the desk, and in the distance, I could hear the steady beat of Cass’s drums. I shook my head, chasing away the dream, although one feature lingered with me.
I hurried over to my bed, kicked down my pants, and jerked off. When I was done, I was fully awake again. The sun was setting outside, which meant I had been napping at the desk for at least an hour. After spending several days trying to adjust to a night schedule, I was still in a weird limbo, waking and passing back out at the most random times.
At least I had the night ahead of me. And with the Lyrid meteor shower coming, I was ready to make it a long one. I grabbed my hoodie from the hook by the door and headed down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The meteor shower would last all night, and I wanted to get some writing done under the stars.
Writing the book was proving to be a lot more difficult than I expected, and I knew I couldn’t blame it all on Cass. Sure, he got me all hot and twisted, but the construction noise wasn’t that bad, and all I had to do was flip on my white noise machine to block out the drumming.
Most afternoons, though, I indulged in a little time just listening. He banged out these fast, hard rhythms, the kind of music that would normally turn me off. But his drumming felt steady, too, like something you could hold onto. And when I let myself get swept up in the motion of it, it was like some valve was loosened, and I could write again after.
Too bad it only lasted a minute. I had lots of thoughts and phrases jotted down in my notebook but only about five pages written in the first chapter. And although I didn’t know a ton about publishing, I did know that you needed more than a notebook with clever phrases you’d scribbled.
T
he kettle whistled, and I poured hot water over my tea. Because the back porch butted up to Cass’s room, I had dragged my telescope over to the side of the house and stored it in the garage a few days earlier. I didn’t need a telescope to see the Lyrids, but I did want it on hand in case my curiosity pulled me somewhere else in the galaxy.
“Oh, hey, there you are.”
Cass appeared from behind the corner, a bottle of beer dangling in one hand. There was a new moon in the sky, and the night was getting dark fast as crickets chirped nearby. He was wearing his cargo shorts with an old crewneck sweatshirt, and the white light from the house showed me the slight smile on his lips.
It was perfect. It always was. Easy and natural, like he was inviting you to smile with him.
I’d never met a man who made me want to smile the way Cass did, straight or gay. And for once, I didn’t even flinch when I saw him or try to hide the telescope. I just took a big breath and let myself smile back.
“Hi, Cass. Were you looking for me?”
He nodded to the house. “I was going to make some pasta for dinner. Wondered if you were hungry?”
We’d started leaving leftovers out for each other, even though we weren’t really sharing our meals. I didn’t make much of it, figuring Cass was just being practical, but the fact that he came looking for me gave me a deep, satisfying sensation. “Sure, if you’re offering.”
He took a swig from his beer, then glanced up toward the stars. “Are you working tonight? Want to show me a few more things up there?”
“Really?” I scrunched my mouth to the side. Damn, it was really hard to convince myself he wasn’t just taking pity on me all the time. Still, though, if he was asking, I didn’t really turn down an opportunity to talk about the stars. “Sure, anytime.”
He crossed over, and when he spoke, his voice was low and quiet, like a steady rumble. “I was thinking about that galaxy you showed me while I was drumming the other day.”
“Oh yeah?” I took in a breath, and his scent went straight to the core of me.
“It’s wild. I’ve seen pictures of that kind of thing before, but it’s different to be looking at it myself. And knowing that I was seeing a thing so big, there was just something about it…” He trailed off, then raised his bottle up. “Badass, man. It’s a nice thing to drum about.”
I laughed. “I guess it’s badass. I never really thought of it that way.”
“How do you think about it?”
I pursed my lips, trying to think of a way to answer. “Seeing our place in the universe makes me feel very big and very small at the same time. And no matter what else is happening in my life, I think it’s always a good reminder that our lives are part of something so much bigger than whatever is worrying me that day.”
Cass nodded as his face darkened a little. I wondered what worries were dragging him down, and if they were the same as whatever bothered him in high school. “That is a good reminder,” he agreed.
“I’m not surprised you’re still drumming. I remember the band you had with Leo.”
“Rusty Locker?” he laughed. His face lit up, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “Damn, I haven’t thought about that band in years.” He pushed his hand back through his long hair. “We were horrible! Did you come to one of our shows? I don’t remember that.”
“Hell no,” I laughed. “Leo would not have invited me back then. But you made a tape, and I stole his copy to listen to sometimes.”
“That’s right, we thought a tape would be cool.” We both laughed. “What are you looking at tonight?” Cass asked. “Anything special?”
“The Lyrid meteor shower,” I said. “I guess it’s special. Every year, we go a few months without any meteor showers at all at in the winter. The Lyrids are the first thing to arrive, and when they do, ten meteors shoot across the sky every hour for several nights.” I paused, self-conscious about whether I should keep talking. “Do you know what a meteor shower is?”
“Rocks in space?”
I grinned. “Kind of. The Lyrids come from a gigantic ball of ice. We can’t actually see it, but when the Earth passes close to it every year, smaller pieces of ice fall off and then burn up in our atmosphere.”
“See,” Cass laughed. “Giant flaming ice balls. Badass stuff.”
“That’s what they say about us astronomers,” I said. “Total badasses.”
We laughed together. Then Cass drank from his beer and turned his eyes to the sky. The faint light struck his features just right. “Can I watch with you? I’ll bring the pasta and some wine.”
My words died in my mouth. I didn’t even care that it meant I would miss another night of writing. Not that we were hanging out a little, I just desperately wanted Cass to stay there with me, watching the sky. “Yes,” I said, only a little too enthusiastically. “That sounds great.”
Cass nodded. “Cool. Let me grab dinner.”
I somehow managed to hold my shit together while he walked away. I don’t know how. But once he swayed his hips around the corner, I hopped up and down a few times and waved my hands around, just to shake the energy.
“Shawn?”
I landed and spun. Cass was standing at the corner of the house.
Shit, had he seen me hopping? A flush warmed my cheeks.
“You need anything from inside?”
I raised my tea mug. “I’m all set, thanks!”
Appropriately humiliated, I set the mug on the grass, then grabbed the two folding lawn chairs from the garage, where they had been safely stored for as long as I could remember. I opened them by the telescope, fretted for a minute over how close they should be to each other, and then grabbed my notebook.
I wasn’t going to have much time to think that night, but I intended to write about the Lyrids in the book, so I wanted to get some thoughts down. They were one of the oldest meteor showers that humanity had known, and for thousands of years, people had watched and appreciated them, just like Cass and I would that night. Some years, there were even big bursts, filling the sky with ninety shooting stars every hour.
Watching the meteor shower arrive always meant something special to me. The anticipation, the connection to history—it was part of feeling big and small at the same time, like I had tried to explain to Cass, and all of it filled me with an excitement that I wanted to capture in writing. When I looked up to the sky, the words finally flowed, and I jotted a few good pages, hunched over in the lawn chair.
I ran out of steam right as Cass returned. He had a bottle of wine and some glasses tucked in his arm and a bowl of pasta in each hand. “I hope spicy is okay,” he said. “I tossed a little extra red pepper in the tomato sauce.”
“Spicy works.” I set my notepad aside, then rose to my feet to accept the bowl. “Thanks! The shower is picking up. You’re right on time.”
We took our seats in the lawn chairs. Then Cass poured us each a glass of wine. “What am I looking for? Are these meteors going to be all over the place?”
“They all start from a certain point, but kind of scatter all over,” I said, gesturing into the expansive, dark sky. “They’ll get higher and higher as the night goes on, you’ll see. And if we’re really lucky, we’ll see a low-flying meteor. Those ones are much bigger, and they last longer.”
“Cool.” Cass spun his pasta on his fork, his eyes still up on the sky. I followed his lead, and for a minute, we ate our dinner our silence. The tomato sauce was rich with herbs and spices and the pasta cooked perfectly.
When was the last time someone else had cooked for me? Probably the last time I went to visit my mom, I realized.
I thought to ask about his band and had just barely opened my mouth when a meteor shot across the sky and Cass cut me off.
“Shit, there it goes,” Cass laughed. “Just like that.”
I turned and beamed a smile at him. Like before, his face was open with a grin, and the way the light danced in his eyes, I kind of wished I were going to spend the evening staring at him instead.
“There will be another soon.” I took another forkful of the pasta in the air. “This is great, by the way.”
“Thanks. My ex Monica taught me the recipe. It’s one of my standards now.”
Right. Cass would have ex-girlfriends. Of course he would. And it was totally ridiculous of me to feel a tinge of disappointment when he confirmed that. “If you still talk to Monica, let her know she has great pasta recipe,” I said.
“I’m sure I’ll talk to her again,” he answered. “We just broke up a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” It made a lot more sense why he came to Kentucky at the last minute.
Another thing Leo could have bothered to share with me.
“It’s fine,” he answered. His voice was low and steady. “We weren’t a good fit for each other.”
There it was again. That way Cass always had of just rolling with whatever came his way. I figured that a person had to be pretty damn strong to face things as they were, the way Cass always did. Like he’d somehow achieved this enlightened level of chill. It made me want to hold close and steady myself to him.
“How about you?” he asked, then took a drink from his wine. “Are you dating anyone back in Georgia?”
“No one special,” I answered, using my stock response.
“You and your brother. The guys just can’t pin either of you down, huh?”
I laughed. “Maybe that’s how it is for Leo. I didn’t have the time for dating while I was in school.” Which was also technically true.
“I respect that. Sometimes, you need to focus on yourself. What’s that project you’re working on here? Research or something?”
I shook my head, relaxed enough by his conversation to share the truth. “I’m trying to write a book, actually. About the galaxy and our place in it.”
“Another one!” Cass said quickly. He spread his legs and dropped his bowl to the grass, then pointed toward the blue star Vega. “Did you see that?”
