by Z. Allora
Ice barked once as Drake and Blaze boarded the bus.
Blaze stared out the bus windows and had been determined he wouldn’t cry, but fuck, a couple of tears slid down his face as he waved to Luke and Anna.
Drake put his hands onto Blaze’s shoulders and squeezed. Tension started to slip away and everything got a little brighter. He wasn’t giving up anything, and he’d be gaining everything.
The driver shut the doors, and they rumbled down the street Blaze had called home for years. Blaze and Drake stayed at the windows, waving until the bus turned the corner.
Drake pulled Blaze into the dark brown leather wraparound seating area that rimmed the first third of the bus. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s hard.” Blaze cuddled into Drake.
“I know. You saw when we left my parents’ house after our visit. I get how tough leaving can be.” Drake shook his head.
Blaze would never forget. Drake’s dad came up with a thousand projects he needed help with, and his mom didn’t release her son from her five-minute hug until her husband pried her fingers off, aiding in Drake’s escape. “Yeah, I was surprised your mom didn’t hide in the trunk.”
“Shhh, don’t give her any ideas. Let’s look around. This is so much nicer than our last tour bus, which was probably a renovated dirty school bus.”
Blaze couldn’t imagine what the band traveled on during their last tour, even based on Drake’s horrifying descriptions, but this brown-and-red décor seemed pretty nice. “The outside painting was impressive.”
“Nah, that was a wrap. It’ll be removed when we stop renting this bus.”
“Hmmm,” Blaze muttered as he followed Drake.
“Cool kitchen.” The compact kitchenette had dark cherry cabinets, which Drake opened, revealing a microwave and an almost full-sized refrigerator filled with beer, soda, bottles of water, and microwavable food. The cabinets also held paper plates, cups, and utensils, probably because no one wanted to do dishes, even if the red ceramic sink made the matching interior and rugs pop.
Hidden on the opposite side were two burners, a toaster oven, a hot water kettle, and the trash can.
Drake chuckled. “I learned the hard way, don’t use the microwave, kettle, hot pot, or toaster oven while the bus is parked. I tried to make soup in a hot pot and blew all the circuits. Luckily, no lasting harm occurred.”
Blaze parted the brown-and-red curtains to stand in the bunk area, where full-sized beds with puffy red comforters and two pillows graced each.
“Whenever we can, we should take this one.” Drake pointed to the lowest one.
“Why?” Why was crawling in and out the best option?
“I’m making this the junk bunk.” Drake grabbed his guitar and their pilot bag and stuffed them to the far right. “It’ll mean no one will be above us to hear anything.”
“Ohhhh. Got it.” Having intercourse would be impossible, but other things could be accomplished in the compressed space. “But what’s a junk bunk?”
“Where everyone will stuff the things they want on the bus but there’s no actual place for it. Everyone is allowed one pilot bag of their shit, consisting of chargers, medicines, laptops, tablets. Also, Amanda’s candy stash with a case of drumsticks. The guitars, along with Jessie’s bass, will all be here in case inspiration strikes.”
Drake opened their carry-on and handed Blaze a baggie of items. “I want you to be prepared for life on tour. A bag like that and always taking a bottle of water into the bunk made the last tour survivable for me. And we’ll get a bus key later.”
“Thanks.” He went through the essentials: earplugs, earbuds, eyeshades, warm socks, and a lanyard with his backstage pass. He stuffed the must-haves in his messenger bag.
They peeked in the red bathroom. There was a toilet, a mirror with plenty of lights over the sink, and a full-length mirror on the door. The brown marble vanity wrapped around until the glass shower stall took the rest of the space. Nice! “Ah, a place to fuck.”
“Yeah, we just have to make sure no one needs the bathroom.” Drake opened the cabinet drawers.
Blaze clarified, even though he didn’t think that should be necessary, “I’m kidding.”
“I’m not.” Drake turned on the shower and put his hand under the water. “Pressure’s not bad.”
Blaze stared at him to see if he was kidding; he wasn’t. Blaze still had to wrap his mind around the lack of privacy. “What’s in there?” he asked, referring to a door to the back of the bus.
“That’s where Summer sleeps. If she gets sick or hoarse, we’re screwed, so we refused to let everyone take turns like she originally wanted.”
Blaze understood their concerns but was sure over the course of four months he’d also regret their responsible decision.
“We stay in hotels a few times a week.” Drake elbowed him.
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Always. Let me find out how long until the next pickup.” Drake stalked off to the front of the bus and came back blushing.
“You look a bit red. What did Joanna say?”
“That we had two hours to fuck.” Drake chuckled.
Blaze still wore his messenger bag, so he had everything they needed. He took Drake’s hand and led him into the bathroom to spend one hour and forty-five minutes figuring out which positions made Drake the craziest. Five minutes of concentrated effort to make them come, and ten minutes to clean up.
Over the next couple of days, the bus picked up the entire band and headed toward their first show.
Everyone welcomed Blaze into life on the road and made him feel part of the group. They all fit comfortably on the wraparound couch, and easy conversation flowed around what they did on their time off.
“Summer, you’re comfortable with the new agent?” Jessie asked. She’d been quiet and kept staring at Sandy.
“Dawn Diaz came highly recommended from our label. She’ll share her strategy for Midnight Shadow when she meets with us.”
Artano barked out a laugh. “That’s a step up, an actual plan?”
Summer drank a sip of her tea. “Yup. She wants to build our careers slowly for the long term, which will include hiatuses to avoid burnout and band hate.”
“Wow.” Jessie added a whistle.
“I’ve only met her once, but she’s nothing like Frank. I promise we’ll never make a mistake based on desperation again. We almost lost Drake over his foolishness.” Summer reached over Blaze and patted Drake’s hand.
Amanda cleared her throat, then rapped Drake with her drumsticks. “Glad you came back to your musical family, D.”
“Good to be back.” Drake’s words were thick with emotion.
“And you even brought a new fascinating person to get to know.” Amanda tapped lightly on Blaze’s thigh.
The gesture might have been a bit strange, but she seemed to tap on everyone, so he smiled at her.
Artano snorted and raised his bottle. “Well, you did pretty good with replacing Dixon. Sandy brought my favorite beer, so he’s all right by me.”
“Glad to share, dude.” Sandy fist-bumped Artano.
At the first stop for gas, the bus driver stood in the front of the sitting area. “Now that you’re all here, I want to introduce myself. I’m Joanna Heller. Most people just call me Hell. I’m an experienced driver and drove for a number of tours. I won’t break the law, and I’ll do my best to get you to the venues ahead of schedule. I’ll announce the night before if I need to move the bus away from the venue for servicing or gas. I’ll remind you the day before load-in starts so you can take all your stuff. I’m here to make your life easier; consider me part of your crew.”
Everyone smiled and happily accepted the bus keys she passed out. “I’ll be parked at the far end of the lot after I feed the beast.”
Halfway through the tour….
BLAZE SETTLED into his seat next to Drake as the bus pulled out of the parking lot.
“Great concert every
one. Night.” After everyone agreed, Summer and her fiancé headed to the private bedroom in the back of the bus.
Two months ago, when they first started, the band was thrilled with the luxury the bus offered. Drake had sighed in contentment about full-sized bunks with puffy comforters, but now the excitement had worn off. Touring and performing was fun but still took its toll.
“Amaretto, Blaze?” Jessie asked as she poured herself a drink.
“Yes. Thank you.” Blaze still didn’t drink much, but he found sipping a bit of amaretto helped him sleep through bumps in the road.
“Thanks, Sandy.” Drake accepted the beer from their newest band member and pointed to the big-screen TV that was usually hidden by a screensaver of the band’s logo. “You guys want to watch anything?”
“Nah, I’m going to finish this and head to bed.” Jessie winked at Sandy.
“Hee-hee. To bed, but not to sleep.” Sandy kissed her neck.
“Oh my God, Sandy. Shut up. Jesus, you talk more than your keyboard,” Jessie growled as the tour bus picked up speed on the highway.
Rolling his eyes, Sandy shrugged at Blaze and Drake. “Most women like a man who talks.”
“Humpf!” Jessie polished off her drink, tossed her cup in the trash, and hopped into a curtained bunk.
“Do they, though, Sandy?” Drake asked.
Blaze held in his snort. Traveling with the band was like hanging out with naughty sixth graders who loved to scuffle among themselves, but when push came to shove, they’d bloody anyone else for any trespass against a member. He’d learned to stay silent.
Jessie poked her head out. “I’m not most women. Sandy, are you coming?”
“Not yet, but we both will be soon.” Sandy fist-bumped Blaze, jumped into the bunk, and velcroed the red curtains closed.
A giggle followed by a soft moan forced Blaze to put in his earbuds, which were connected to Drake’s cell. They started watching myths debunked by science as they drank the last of their alcohol.
Drake yawned and leaned into him.
Blaze enjoyed the weight of his boyfriend pressing against him, letting him ease the stress he had to carry from the back-to-back shows. He pulled out Drake’s earbud. “You look exhausted.”
Taking out Blaze’s earbud, Drake clarified, “I’m exhaustipated.”
“Exhaustipated?”
Drake smirked. “Yeah, when you’re too tired to give a shit.”
Blaze chortled with Drake, who scrunched his face behind his hand but didn’t stop his belly laugh. “Hey, you wanna go rest? Our bunk is free.”
Drake dropped his head onto Blaze’s shoulder. “And by rest, you mean like last night?”
The bunks were too small to do much without contorting into a pretzel, and doing it on their sides didn’t hit the spot for Drake. They saved intercourse for the hotels and usually went with blowjobs or hand jobs with a swallow ending because, really, there wasn’t another way to avoid a mess.
“Sure.” Blaze smiled, knowing Drake would be asleep before he even unzipped his pants. He hurried to the bathroom to do his nightly routine. It wasn’t hard to find which was their bunk, because the bright bisexual flag socks his mom sent him identified the foot sticking out.
Drake’s pants and T-shirt were in a ball at the end of the bed. However sexy his man in boxer briefs happened to be, he still snored softly.
Blaze grinned, slipped off his clothing, and carefully crawled into the tiny space.
Drake muttered, “I can suck ya.”
“I know you can, but how about we sleep now and wake each other up with a blowjob. Whoever is up first swallows first.”
“S’okay.” Drake dropped an arm over Blaze and protectively spooned behind him.
Blaze could never have imagined he’d want this more than skating, but this was everything.
Epilogue
Five Years Later….
BLAZE HAD dusted his house twice already but gave the pictures on his nightstand a bit more attention.
He smiled at Flame and Smoke guarding the room, then studied the framed picture of him kissing Olympic ice for the third and final time. Another picture depicted him surrounded by Drake, Luke, and Anna as he held his last gold medal. The next one he cleaned was a silly snap, which still made him feel equal parts pleased and embarrassed. The picture had captured Drake dragging him onstage. Right after that picture was taken, the entire band and most of Midnight Shadow’s audience sang “Happy Birthday” to him.
He dusted the last picture, taken the year before, from the engagement party. The picture had all the people Blaze cared about: the entire band, Julia and Matthew Keys, Luke with his new wife, Anna and her husband. Ice danced on his hind legs in front of everyone, and Blaze perched on Drake’s back, kissing his cheek.
Drake slipped into the room and hugged him from behind. “You still going to marry me?”
Blaze grinned over his shoulder. “How could I accept a proposal from someone with such poor judgment and bad taste as to ask me?”
Snorting, Drake tossed him onto the bed. “Oh, I have a very good taste. You tell me that all the time.”
Blaze pulled Drake into a kiss and murmured, “It’s all the pineapple juice we drink that makes your cum taste like candy.”
Smirking, Drake kissed Blaze’s neck.
Blaze tilted his head so Drake could kiss that one special— “Mmmm, right there. You never had any doubts?”
“About us? Nope. You’re it for me. However, you took a bit of convincing, but I enjoyed the work.”
Blaze teased and pretended to try to get out of their bed. “I’m totally convinced, but I should finish dusting. I don’t want my in-laws to think I’m a slob.”
“Please stay. I’ve seen my dad use a hairdryer as a dust cloth. Our place is spotless, trust me.” Drake pressed Blaze’s shoulder to the bed and nuzzled his neck.
Blaze snorted and gasped at the same time.
Drake wiggled his fingers under Blaze’s shirt and teased a finger under the waistband of his jeans. “Besides, they already love you more than me.”
Shivering, Blaze tried to continue the conversation, even with lust bubbling through his body. “I doubt that, but just in case, I’ll marry you so they don’t have to make the choice.”
“That’s good, ’cause the wedding is tomorrow.” Drake traced a finger over Blaze’s lips. “And the living room is filled with things off of our wedding registry.”
“Things that you and Luke picked out. Charger plates, ha.” Blaze released Drake’s hair from the thick elastic holding it back. Dark waves cascaded around him. Damn, his sexy rock star was hot and all his. Blaze was smart enough to put a ring on him.
“Only because you had no interest in housewares and wanted to go dress shopping with my mother.” Drake kissed the pretend pout off Blaze’s mouth.
Since Blaze couldn’t uncurl his toes, he made a concession between kisses. “She needed help. Maybe I can finish dusting later. Marriage is about compromise, right?”
“Yes.” Drake unzipped Blaze’s pants, releasing his erection to the air. Blaze moaned his total agreement with Drake’s wisdom.
Bending over Blaze’s middle, scant inches from his cock, Drake asked, “You’re sure you don’t mind Summer using our wedding as a platform to tell everyone Midnight Shadow is coming out with new stuff?”
Blaze almost choked on his need, want, and laughter. “You’re still a very chatty sucker, aren’t you?”
Drake answered in between licking Blaze’s cock, “I am.”
“Hey, after Summer picked the perfect time to have a baby…. Mmmm, exactly when I needed to get back to serious training for the Olympics. Summer gets to do just about anything she wants.” Her timing had allowed Blaze and Drake to stay together while he trained for the Olympics and Drake worked on the new songs.
“Talky talker, shhhhh, I’m sucking you off,” Drake teased.
Blaze tried to roll his eyes, but a few sucks later, he lost it and came hard in Drake�
�s mouth.
Still panting, a quick time check allowed Blaze to say, “Come on, get these pants off.”
“You don’t—”
Pretending to pout, Blaze was determined. “I want some of your candy.”
“Oh, okay. As you said, marriage is about compromise.” Drake unzipped and pushed off his pants.
In record time Blaze had him in his mouth, sucking for all he was worth, when a stray thought distracted him. “Do you really think Ice will be good being the ring bearer?”
“Iceman did fine at Luke’s wedding.” That much was true. Luke almost made him an honorary best man since Luke met his lovely wife at a doggy park while taking Ice out for a run.
Drake shifted on the bed. “Speaking of chatty—”
Blaze didn’t let Drake finish his joke. He kept sucking until he swallowed for Drake and then licked him clean.
He collapsed next to Drake, still recovering from his own orgasm.
Just as he was drifting off, Drake’s cell buzzed.
Since Blaze lay closer to Drake’s discarded jeans, he handed the cell to Drake.
Drake grimaced at the screen and groaned.
“What?”
“Taylor texted that my ex-bandmate Dixon the Dick will be there tomorrow with a plus-one.”
“Wow.” Blaze wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to invite the jackass against Drake’s pleas, but he had.
“Apparently he’s working in my high school and will be bringing a teacher as his date.”
“Well, glad to hear he’s doing better.”
Drake set his phone aside. “I love everything about you.”
“Awwwww, I love everything about you. You’ve given me things I didn’t even know I needed. Thank you.” Blaze was feeling too many emotions.
“Welcome. So, do you think it was worth braving thin ice?” Drake asked with a confident smile.
“Absolutely. We didn’t fall through, we simply rocked it.” Blaze melted into Drake.
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