by BA Tortuga
"Yeah. And we could have fun, haunting the French Market, huh? Searching for voodoo dolls and claws and shit."
"Yeah. There's supposed to be like a vegetable market and shit there, too. We can get oranges." He looked up at Caidon. "You reckon that voodoo stuff's real?"
"Nah. I mean, not any more real than anything else, huh?" They sorta flopped back on the bed, Caidon nuzzling him.
"Yeah? It sorta creeps me out -- thinking about someone cursing you, making you a zombie. I heard that part was true -- that there were plants and stuff that made you just seem dead and then you get all brain-damaged and crazy when you dig out of your coffin."
Caidon stared at him a moment before blinking a few times. "I guess? I don't know much about it, you know?"
"Me neither. Weird, huh?" He shrugged, chuckling at the idea of Steve wandering around going all rrr-rrr-rrr.
Dude, could zombies play fiddle?
"What are you laughing about, honey?" Caidon tickled his belly a little, just grinning to beat the band.
He told Caidon, complete with zombie fiddle impersonations. Zombie fiddler impersonations. Whatever. "Lord, can you see him? All with his donkey dick waggling and zombiefied?"
Caidon hooted, throwing his head back to laugh and showing off that pretty, tanned neck. "Lord, honey, that's a picture. Can you see Joe? He'd be attacking all the groupies and trying to eat their boobies."
"Ew. Ow. He'd drool and shit. I know, in his heart, Joe's a drooler." Hell, Joe was sort of a skank, when you got down to brass tacks.
"Yeah. He'd whine a lot, too. I mean, he's a decent enough front man, but he's not all he thinks he is." That sounded downright contemplative.
"Nope. Still, he's got something, I guess. I don't know. You think you're going to sign with the big boys?" He knew he wouldn't. He couldn't sing more than harmony and he couldn't write lyrics. He could play guitar, though, so he figured it would keep him in tours and stuff, even if he never settled into the studio band thing.
"I don't know. I'm from Oklahoma, you know? That’s close enough to Texas and God knows I didn’t go to OU, so they’ll let me in Austin. I might try to find a label there. It's a thing."
Yeah, he could see that. There was a huge gap between Nashville and the Texas scene. "It's a strong market -- Austin's a great place to play. Lots of audience and they know their shit."
"You know it. I'm just not made for suit-and-tie country. Or them fancy haircuts and untucked shirts." Oh, God. He could just see Caidon, all of a sudden, with a spiky do and a bunch of videos with his butt hanging out.
"You could stand under a waterfall and shake your heinie for the camera..."
"Uh-huh. I'd be great, huh? All wet and stupid." Grinning, Caidon smacked him a little, as hard as a man could the way they were lounging.
"Well, I sorta like you all wet, but like that? It's a little fake. 'Course, it's the business."
"Yeah, well, in Austin they rarely ask you to make videos." Rolling a little, Caidon traced his hip through his pants, just a little touch that made him shiver.
"I just want to not starve and play." Well, maybe he wanted more than that. Right now he wanted Caidon.
"Mmmhmm. I hear that. We're doing okay here, huh? Not starving. Well, as long as they deliver the food."
"Yep. It shouldn't be much longer. We'll feed you and maybe unpack the 'tars, have a little jam." He hadn't played in three days. It was weird.
"You itching to pick?" He'd bet Caidon was, too, the way those long fingers shaped a chord on his leg.
"You know it. It's like a... like... Hell, I don't know. It's just who we are, huh?" Nothing was quite as real, when the music was right.
"I'm not complaining, honey." A knock on the door had Caidon rolling to his feet to go get the food. Man, Spud hadn't even known that much time had passed.
It was weird, but it was good. Sort of like him. Sort of like Caidon. It just worked.
***
Caidon picked out rhythm on his old acoustic, watching Spud bust out a solo, just jamming.
They'd been playing at their little apartment, out on the balcony, when a guy from a club down the street had asked them to sit in on a session. It wasn't country, but it wasn't jazz; hell, it was almost zydeco, but he and Spud both had the way of it now. They were just having a ball. The beer was running free and the crowd was small and into the music and it was a hoot.
He didn't know about Spud, but this place was like magic -- the songs and the notes and the lyrics coming like rain. Caidon was feeling like he could breathe deep, like shit wasn't just going to come crashing down on him.
Spud looked up from the twelve-string, too-long hair falling in his sweaty face, the man grinning like a fool. Caidon grinned back, stomping his foot a little to tell the other boys they were about to change tempo. He knew Spud too well. Jesus, look at that man play. All those Cajuns hooted and hollered, Henry keeping up, barely, with Spud's fingers.
It sucked, sometimes, to know that someone with such joy and skill at the music would always be second fiddle to someone like him or Joe, just because. Of course, that sort of thing -- whatever it was that Spud had -- it wasn't going to go into a studio and happen over and over just the same. Spud was about the music, right then. Just then.
Caidon played and watched, jonesing on it. If he let it, Spud's playing would give him wood. Spud eased back, giving the bass player a turn, and grabbed a beer. Caidon could see the way Spud's fingertips were going red. If they weren't careful, Spud'd end up playing his calluses off.
Grinning at how much he liked those calluses, Caidon stomped off an end sequence, and they roared to a big old finish. They all ended on the same note, making the crowd hoot and holler, and Caidon nodded at Zach, the guy who'd asked them to play.
"I think I'm done for the night, man."
"Lord, lord. Y'all comin' back, eh? Come back to play? We here ever' night and it ain't nothin' to come." He did like a Cajun, especially when Mama Reg, who owned the joint, pressed a bag of food into his hand.
"You know it. We're here a bit. You ready, Jamie?"
Spud looked up, blinked at him and nodded, getting that sudden, goofy-assed grin. "Yep. Let's hasta. Guys, we'll see you soon. This rocked."
"Yes, sir. Y'all come back soon, make some music with us." The drummer waved, his gold tooth shining in the stage lights.
Caidon grinned and took the food, waving at everyone while Spud packed up the guitars. They humped their gear out, both of them chuckling at the catcalls from the crowd.
"Man, that was hot. You have fun?" Spud nodded to a pair of folks coming in as they were going out.
"I had a ball, honey. It was like old times, just jamming out, no set list." No politics.
"You know it." They bumped shoulders, both laughing a little as they headed down Royal Street toward the apartment.
"Man, my fingers hurt, though." Fuck, his own fingers were kinda raw. They'd both been playing without a pick, acting like teenagers.
"No shit. Tomorrow's gonna feel like the day after the tour opens."
"Yeah. That's always an ice-and-Excedrin day, huh? Got a couple new melodies for us to try on that ‘Down Home’ song, though. A little Cajun flavor."
They stomped through a couple of puddles, the daily rain in New Orleans having passed while they were inside.
"Cool. I think that one's a little dull, music-wise. Has a hell of a hook, though." They headed up the rickety old stairs, the iron work groaning and shit.
"I think this will pick it right up. Make it shine." He was all about shining. Standing out.
"Fucking A. You'll have to teach me." Spud opened the door, stumbling in.
"I will. I'll scribble it down tonight so we can work through it tomorrow. Want some ice cream?" They'd found this pralines-and-cream ice cream that made them both moan louder than a sixty-nine. Well, almost.
"Ooo. Oh, hell yes. What's in the bag?"
"Uh." He peered in, grinning. "Po' boys. Some rice something. Shrimp."
Caidon flopped down at Spud's feet and dug out some shrimp, humming at the hot and spicy flavor. Damned fine. It wasn't long before Spud's hands were on him, finger tips hot as blazes on his neck.
"Mmm. Gonna make me drop my dinner, honey." That wouldn't be so bad. A little messy, but not bad.
"Focus. I'm just rubbing a little."
Chuckling, Caidon licked sauce off his fingers. "You know me. Easily distracted."
"Yup. Gimme a bite. Smells good." Spud leaned, head appearing over his shoulder.
Grabbing a shrimp, he popped it into Spud's mouth, almost losing his fingers to those sharp teeth. Damn. "Hungry."
"I work hard, man." Spud's laugh tickled his cheek.
"You do." The shrimp sauce burned his tender fingers, making him hiss and chuckle. "This stuff will creep up on you."
Spud's tongue slid over his fingers, and damn if his balls didn't crawl right up.
"Jamie. Honey. You don't want to start nothin' until I wash my hands, I promise." Because ow.
Spud hummed, grinned. "I was just trying to help."
"I know. I do." Goddamn, he loved it when Spud helped. "C'mere."
Turning, he let his mouth press against Spud's, the kiss going hot, and not just with sauce. Spud slid, all boneless and melty, right off the sofa and into his lap, wrapping tight around him.
"Hey, honey." He did love those kisses, those generous touches. He surely did.
"Hey." Spud's legs wrapped around his waist. "Happy... uh... is it Wednesday?"
"It is. Happy day, honey." He kissed Spud hard, rubbing a little, feet braced flat on the floor.
Fuck, that just burned -- spice and hunger and shit, all between them. His hands slid right under Spud's ass, lifting so he could get more, the flavor addictive. Being alone with Spud made a man think things he probably shouldn't.
"Need you. Need you, babe." The words were whispered, right against his lips.
"You got me. Here. Now." They had all their stuff in the bedroom, but they could touch. Could love on each other.
"Yeah. Now is good for me." That kiss burned him down to the bone.
They rolled to one side, both of them stretching out on the floor so they could get to each other better. Oh, God, he loved Spud's hands, even guitar-chapped and tender.
"Mmm... like this. Could get used to it."
"Yeah?" Drawing back a little, he met Spud's eyes. "Just you and me? Even when we go back on the road?"
"You want that? Just me? That's cool?"
"I want that." He wanted it pretty damned badly. Enough to fight for it, if he had to. "It's more than cool."
"I like it, being with you. Being yours. You know? I mean... what you and me got, it's not just..." Spud shrugged, blushed, hands spreading. "It's more."
"It is." That was the best way to put it. More than just comfort on the road. He liked Spud. Loved being with him. Maybe loved the man a lot.
"Yeah." He got himself another one of those smiles, crooked and wondering and wicked. "Just you and me."
"Us, Jamie. We can do that, huh?" Laughing, he kissed Spud hard, something a lot like joy settling in his chest.
"Uh-huh." Caidon wasn't sure, but he thought that look in Jamie's eyes was relief, sorta.
"C'mere." He sealed it with another kiss, this one slow and deep, a promise.
Spud fit right up against him, the two of them touching down to their toes.
Caidon hummed, the sound almost damned musical. "I got you, honey."
"You do." Spud's fingers slid down his side, hard enough to feel good, not tickle.
Oh, that felt good. Caidon gave that touch right back, ending at Spud's hip, squeezing a little. They kept on touching, both of them grinning like big idiots. Spud just made him happy, Deep inside. He laughed out loud, loving on Spud, kissing random patches of skin.
"Mmm. 's a good look on you."
"Yeah? I like how it makes me feel." He really did. Loved how Spud clung to him, touched him.
Spud shifted, kissed him good and hard, just agreeing with him, wholeheartedly. They started to get good and hot, sweaty as hell, and Caidon rolled up, pulling Spud with him. Bedroom. Spud nodded, catching up quick, stripping off clothes as he went.
"Damn, honey. Hot. I need." Caidon stripped off everything he still had on and pulled Spud close, humping hard. He just... damn.
"All yours. In me." Demanding little shit.
"Yeah, Jamie. Yeah." They definitely had the stuff in the bedroom, and it took Caidon all of two seconds to find it.
Jamie took the lube and started slicking his cock, both hands working his shaft good and hard.
His hips arched, pushing his cock into Spud's fingers. "Honey. Oh, God. Careful. Don't want to come too soon."
"Uh-huh. 'kay. Look at you." Spud stared, kept stroking.
"Rather look at you." Spud's hand did look good on him, though, wrapped tight around the shaft of his cock.
"You want me to get ready?" That callused thumb rubbed the tip of his cock.
"I do. Want to see, honey." He was panting, his body shaking with the need to hold back.
"Yeah. I can do that." Spud stroked him one more time, then stepped back, one leg propped on the bed, that pretty ass pointed at him. Those fingers pushed right in, spreading Spud wide. His mouth went dry, his tongue feeling like it had been sprayed with quick-drying lacquer. He was gonna die, but he would go a very happy man. Spud moved, rode those fingers with a solid rhythm -- in and out, in and out.
"Jamie. Hurry." His cock was going to explode. Boom. Damn, that was inspiring.
"Whenever you're ready. Now. Now is good."
"Come on, then." Caidon sat up and grabbed Spud's hips, pulling the man down so he could kneel behind him, pushing his cock against that hot hole. Spud pressed back, body just pulling him in, hot and tight, wrapped around him. Groaning, he leaned against Spud's back, letting his hips rock in tiny motions. His hands landed on Spud's hips, holding tight, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
"Caidon." His name was a bare groan, Spud's head lifted up, throat working.
God. He just... he wanted to explode. His ass clenched, his hips working hard, his cock pushing and pushing.
He watched Jamie reach down, grab that pretty cock and start pulling, shoulder rippling as it moved. Caidon grunted, his body slapping Spud's, his skin too damned tight. Jesus. He was close, his balls pulling right up against the base of his cock. Spud groaned, body fluttering around him, working his cock.
"Fuck!" Caidon reached around, wrapping his hand over Spud, pulling up and down, trying to get Spud right there with him.
"Come on, Jamie. Come on." He bit down on Spud's neck, hard. If Spud could do needy, so could he.
That was all she wrote -- Jamie shot for him, spunk covering his hand.
His cock pulsed, his balls emptied, and Caidon filled Spud right up, his hips pumping like there was no tomorrow. Goddamn. A man could get used to that.
"Got you." Spud moaned, the sound happy, lazy.
"Yeah. Yeah, you got me, honey. I'm all yours."
What else could he say? It was the God's honest truth.
***
"Noel, noel. Noel, noEL!" Spud sang loud, bouncing around the little apartment, stringing chile pepper lights around their tree.
He hadn't had so much fun in years. He'd shopped, wrapped, decorated. Caidon was cooking -- like for real, cooking. It smelled so goddamn good.
"How do you like your mashed potatoes, honey? Lumpy or real smooth?" Oh. Homemade mashed potatoes.
"I like both. I like mashed potatoes." He draped some tinsel over the sofa, and then headed for the kitchenette. "Smells so good."
"Mmmhmm. I love the smell of turkey gravy." Stuff was bubbling away, and Caidon had only had to make two phone calls to get it all right.
"Man, you so rock." He pressed right up against Caidon's ass, humming happily.
"You think?" Grinning, Caidon spun
him around in a little dance, just happy as a clam.
"Uh-huh." They had spent more time laughing like goons in the last few days...
"You know, we need more lights." They had alligator lights and chile pepper lights and ones shaped like crawdads.
"I got voodoo doll ones."
"No shit? Well, string them up, honey!" It amazed him, kinda, how Caidon was so into this whole holiday thing.
