11 - Lucien
11
–––––
Lucien
I received an unexpected offer to participate in a group exhibition, and as it was to take place in a prestigious venue where people liked to buy a lot of art, I accepted. The space had become available on short notice, and the curator told me that Professor Seeger had recommended me. That surprised me. Whether he had done it out of pity or conviction didn’t matter to me at that moment. I was simply happy to have these two walls to fill with my paintings. Every art show I did boosted my rep, and every sale meant I could chill a few more months without borrowing money from Martin.
I only had a few days to hand in my two paintings, which suited me perfectly under the circumstances. As long as I concentrated on the art, I wouldn’t annoy my roommates anymore, especially one roommate.
Martin knew me, knew what made me tick and how to deal with it. I also knew what I could expect of him—and, above all, when. And right now was not a good time for such a confession, given that his deadlines were looming.
And as far as Jonah was concerned, I was in uncharted territory. I’d promised Martin I wouldn’t scare him, but the way he’d looked at me after the kiss, I’d actually done a good job of it.
Shit …
“Helloooo!” I heard from somewhere far away. “Earth to Lu!”
“What?”
I had been so engrossed in my work and thoughts that I hadn’t noticed someone coming into my studio—again.
“Steven … what …” Frowning, I glanced at the upper windows. It was already dark.
“Here! You need to eat something.” Steven placed a can beside me on the floor and ambled over to the couch, promptly rolling himself a joint.
“Beer?”
“Liquid food.” He unfolded a paper and crumbled the weed into it. “So, what now? Are we going to the party or not?”
“What party?” I still hadn’t quite come to reality; Steven was already taking a drag from his joint.
“Check your cell phone, man. There’s a gig at Marco’s rehearsal room today. It’s like a dress rehearsal. The release party is coming up soon.”
“Oh … that was today?”
“Do you even know what day it is? And why are you still sitting here—didn’t you hand it in yesterday?”
“To finish this.”
I pointed my brush at a seven-by-seven feet canvas lying on the floor. If the muse had kissed me and I was in the flow, I had to take advantage of it. Because if I were to get a place at an exhibition at short notice, it would be an embarrassment to have to cancel because I didn’t have any paintings in stock.
“It looks more than finished to me,” Steven said, taking a drag from his joint. “Come on! Give yourself a jolt. It’s Thursday.”
This meant I had already spent thirteen days in the studio. As I always changed into work clothes first, my clean everyday clothes were still hanging in the wardrobe. But I desperately needed a shower.
“Have you noticed how terrible you look?” Steven remarked casually. “A bit of socializing would do you good.”
“Is there a shower there?”
“Uh … it’s a rehearsal room—I doubt it. When was the last time you were at home?”
I went to the sink, cleaned the brushes, and quickly washed myself. The cleaner I became, the more aware I became of my greasy hair.
I still had some shampoo lying around somewhere and rummaged through the cupboard where I kept water cups and paper towels. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone to a party from the studio. And sure enough, in addition to razors, skin cream, soaps and bandages, I also found some shampoo. The sink was big enough to hold my head completely under the water, so I washed my hair as well. As I rubbed it dry with a towel and saw my reflection in the mirror, I noticed dark circles under my eyes that hadn’t been there a week ago. Steven called out from the couch, “And while you’re at it, shave! You look terrible.”
For a stoner, he had really sharp eyes. But he hadn’t been accepted to art school for no reason. The guy had an eye for detail like no other. After I’d shaved and washed my face, he looked over at me from the couch and nodded with satisfaction. So I got dressed and prepared myself.
“I hope there are some girls there too,” Steven said worriedly. “The last time I was at a party in the rehearsal room, it was all men. That really sucks.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t care whether he’s top or bottom. That’s what they say, isn’t it?”
Hearing that from Steven’s mouth made me smile. The good guy sometimes didn’t even realize how funny he was. “I’d be happy if there was something to nibble on,” I said and accepted the can of beer Steven had brought me.
“Do you want to stop by the gas station to be on the safe side?”
“No, I’ll take my chances,” I replied, pushing down the tab to release a fizz before taking a big swig.
I wasn’t particularly stingy, but with money tight, I avoided splurging on an expensive sandwich from the gas station, especially since it had been sitting there all day. If I had to, I’d rather get a kebab from Langstrasse on the way home. “Where is this rehearsal room?”
“It's a ten-minute walk from Tiefenbrunnen.”
***
When we arrived, the concert was already in full swing. As expected, the rehearsal room was a dingy basement in some office building, but at least it had a stage and several seating areas. And to Steven’s delight, there were women there too. They had gathered in front of the stage like groupies and idolized the singer.
He wore a black tank top and resembled a rock star with his long brown hair and fully tattooed arms. I had to admit that he also had a beautiful face and an impressive voice. “What happened to the old singer?” I asked Steven as we grabbed a beer at the makeshift bar.
“I think they unceremoniously kicked him out after he showed up.” Steven swayed to the rhythm of the music, even though I was aware that the sound was a bit too acid for his taste. “Noé, that’s his name. He’s got a great voice!”
“Hm…”
“Oh… no. Lu, I know that look. Stay away from that guy. They say he’s a slut and will do anything for money. His reputation is a thousand times worse than yours.”
“I don’t know what you … Uh, what? My reputation?” I hadn’t realized I even had one. “What do you mean by that? What’s being said about me?”
Steven swallowed. “Well … yeah, uh … I don’t know exactly,” he mumbled, taking a drink from his beer.
“Now spit it out already!”
“Well, that you’re a player and don’t think much of love … and all that.”
“That’s true,” I admitted unabashedly. But then I frowned. “And all that? What do you mean by all that?”
Steven was beating around the bush. “Well, you hear a lot of things. Some say you’re a real dominant, and others say you let yourself be treated worse than a dog. It’s all that S/M stuff.”
I grimaced in irritation. Then I burst out laughing and could hardly contain myself. “That’s doing the rounds? Where did you get that from?”
“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, the girls are really insecure because they don’t know what they’re getting themselves into with you.”
I sighed. “You know I’m open to everything, but I’ve never done anything my partner didn’t want me to do.”
Steven squinted over at me. “Where do you always find people like that?”
“They’re everywhere.” I let my gaze wander around the room. The conversation awakened my hunting instinct, and I could feel how my body had been under far too much tension for the last few days. I grinned at Steven. “Come on, let’s have some fun.”
We ended up in a group gathered around some couches where a bong was being passed around—people were accordingly stoned. Somehow I felt comfortable here, hanging out, smoking a cigarette, drinking beer … just like when I met Phil.
It had been a gig by Marco’s band and Steven had gotten high on weed. My beer was empty, and as I was walking to the bar, I’d bumped into this handsome guy. His clear eyes and genuine smile immediately captured my attention, prompting me to spontaneously invite him for a beer. When he said he wouldn’t drink alcohol or take any other drugs at all, I was hooked. That was the last beer I drank for a long time.
Reveling in this nostalgic feeling, I left Steven with his stoner friends and strolled around the rehearsal room for a while. I bumped into familiar faces here and there, chatted with them about God and the world, and was introduced to new people.
As soon as the band finished their session, music started playing from the speakers. I was engaged in conversation with a couple of women I knew from art school when Jessica sauntered into my line of sight. She hadn’t seen me yet but was heading straight for me.
Oh no … I was absolutely not in the mood for her—not then, not ever, really. She might have appeared nice and all, but only to everyone else. With me, she always behaved like a fucking teen on a sex drug.
“I’m going to get some fresh air,” I said to Andrea, who also saw Jessica coming.
“Sure thing. Get lost.” She chuckled and offered me a knowing pat on the shoulder.
Like a thief in the night, I crept past the people, hoping Jessica wouldn’t spot me. And I was lucky, because when I glanced over my shoulder, she was talking to Andrea.
Lucky me. As I reached the entrance, the notion of fresh air didn’t seem so bad. Climbing the stairs, I emerged into the cool night. Under the canopy, I lit a cigarette and took a deep breath.
A short distance away on the sidewalk, Marco and his bandmates were discussing the gig and appeared quite content, which was likely a positive sign considering the upcoming release show. As I didn’t want to intrude, I remained under the canopy, leaning against the letterboxes, and smoked my cigarette in peace. I enjoyed the silence and the fresh air—a stark contrast to the rehearsal room.
“Lu!” Marco called out. “How did you like it?”
“Good,” I replied without moving. “You guys rock.”
“See!” Marco exclaimed, turning to his bandmates. “This is going to be great!”
Three of them finally bid goodbye, and Marco pulled the new singer along with him. “Noé, this is Lucien. Lu, this is our new singer, Noé.”
My first impression was confirmed: Noé was a sight for sore eyes. His long hair was now knotted at the back of his head, and he looked at me from his deep dark blue eyes. Noé was slim, his every movement was lascivious, and he was bursting with sex appeal. And that distinctive jawline was striking.
It seemed that we exchanged prolonged glances, much to Marco’s discomfort, without either of us thinking to break the silence. Marco cleared his throat. “Oookay…” he said, his tone wavering with indecision. “I’ll … go and have a piss.”
As soon as Marco went inside, Noé smiled—not embarrassed or anything, no, he was clearly flirting with me and knew exactly how to do it. “I saw you from the stage.” His voice was raspy and totally sexy.
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. And as Noé stepped closer, a cold shiver ran down my spine.
Smile, Lu!
I put on my charming smile and licked my lips. “You were really hot up there … on stage,” I said, and I wasn’t even lying. The man was so hot. Even my cock saw it that way, making itself known with a twitch.
“We could have a bit of fun together,” Noé said, shrugging his shoulders innocently.
I glared at him and tried to read his expression to see if he was joking. But he seemed to be serious. I bit my lower lip and smiled. “Okay.”
Noé opened the front door and let me go first. Instead of going back down to the basement, I ascended to the landing. The automatic light didn’t reach here, and it was comfortably gloomy. I turned to Noé, grabbed him by the upper arms and pushed him back against the wall. He smiled contentedly, appearing quite at ease in his role as the prey, yet his eyes sparkled with the greed of a predator. I stroked his chest, up to his neck and touched his beautiful lips. Unable to hold back any longer, I kissed Noé passionately and he responded with equal fervor, our kisses igniting a fiery intensity between us. Our tongues entwined and we took each other’s breath away.
I pressed my body against his and elicited a sweet sound from him. The heat inside me increased more and more, and when Noé slipped his hands under my shirt, he finally set me on fire. Fireworks ignited in my head and my skin tingled from head to toe. We devoured each other more and more, and while Noé traced the contours of my body, I pressed my pelvis against the bulge in his tight jeans. He gasped for air, and I grabbed him by the neck and pushed my tongue even deeper into his mouth. Full of desire, I rubbed my hard-on against his. Noé was bittersweet—until the pressure in my pants became unbearable. When he fiddled with my belt, I briefly opened my eyes, craving a glimpse of his beautiful face.
And suddenly, I saw Jonah in front of me.
“Woah!” Startled, I tore myself away from Noé. My heart had stopped for a moment and I was out of breath. “What the hell …”
But it wasn’t just me who was totally out of it. Noé also seemed to have been startled at the same moment. “I’m sorry, I …”
“Me too.”
Yes, I’d had quite a few drinks, but nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Noé approached me and I eyed him suspiciously. The sight of him was breathtaking. But as much as I wanted to concentrate on him, Jonah was buzzing around in my head. “I don’t know if I … can.”
Bloody hell! Those words were coming out of my mouth!
“It’s not your fault,” I replied immediately, and Noé forced an outrageously charming smile.
“How about if I …?” He glanced provocatively at the bulge in my pants. “This way we can both think about whoever is bothering us at the moment.
Before I could even consider declining the offer—though I’m not sure if I would have—Noé knelt before me, unzipped my pants, and got to work.
Yes, I thought of Jonah. And I imagined that it was him who was sucking me off with such dedication.