Chapter 26
It had been a very long time since Mikey had really felt in touch with the musical side of his work.
It was a really strange thing to admit, but as he’d told Luke, even his solo career hadn’t been as fulfilling as he’d hoped.
He’d go into the studio, sing the words someone else had written, and then he’d go home.
The producers and other folks in the production department would do their magic, which usually involved a distressing amount of Auto-Tune, and then the album would come out.
It wasn’t the most glamorous or most authentic way of making music, but it was what he had, and it was what was required in order to stay popular.
His musical interludes with Luke, however, had made clear it wasn’t enough to just rely on machines to make music.
If you didn’t pour yourself into it, if you didn’t actually connect with the feelings and the stories, then what was the point?
Now they had three songs under their belt and, while “A Guy to Build a Life With” was their crown jewel, he was proud of the others, too.
It quickly became clear sex had changed things for the better when it came to their creative collaboration.
Things were charged and changed. Everything they did from now on would mean something more than it had before, because they were doing it as boyfriends.
It was strange, and it was unlike anything he’d encountered during any of his past relationships, even with Mindy.
The strangest thing about this, though, was it felt right.
At the moment Luke was talking about the power of storytelling when it came to crafting a song people wouldn’t just listen to but also connect with.
Watching him talk, seeing the way his eyes lit up as he strummed his guitar, made Mikey realize why he’d fallen in love with him when they were teens and why he was still in love with him today.
“Why are you smilin’ like that?” Luke asked.
“I was thinking I’m really lucky to be with someone like you,” Mikey said.
“And not just because you’re handsome and dashing, but because you seem to really understand how music works.
You want to make yourself better. You want to use music to tell a story to actually touch your fans.
I can see why they always liked you. And besides, you look really good with a guitar. ”
Luke blushed a little.
“It’s been pretty great havin’ it in my hands again,” he said softly. “I’ve hardly touched it this whole year, and I always felt like a part of me was missing. Now, though, I feel complete again.” He ducked his head. “And it’s not just because of the guitar, either. It’s because of you.”
He got up and walked over to Luke, putting a hand on his arm and kneeling down beside him. Luke had stopped strumming his guitar, but the notes still hung in the air. Everything was waiting to see what happened next; even the sound couldn’t quite decide whether it wanted to carry through.
Goddamn it, Mikey thought. I love him.
Luke gently put his guitar aside and placed his hand over Mikey’s, his touch so gentle it broke his heart. On the outside Luke looked like such a good old boy. On the inside, though, he was still the same sensitive boy he’d been a decade ago.
“Luke,” he whispered, not sure what he wanted to say.
Then Luke leaned over and kissed him. No matter how many times he did it, no matter how many times their lips touched and they encountered this moment of beauty and bliss, it never ceased to amaze him just how hot Luke was and how lucky he, Mikey, was to have found someone who actually wanted to be with him, who wanted to touch him, who wanted to understand him.
The more their bodies intertwined with one another, the more intense the pleasure became.
They didn’t even have to fuck in order for Mikey to feel this.
The intimacy between the two of them was just so intense, so overpowering, it made him rethink his entire life.
How was it possible, he wondered, he could’ve ever imagined leaving Luke?
How could he have been stupid enough to ever abandon this kind of pleasure, when it was clear just how much they brought out in each other?
It wasn’t long before their clothes were coming off and they were writhing against one another, their cocks pressed together, both of them already leaking. A pressure built up inside of him, and it wasn’t just the climax he knew wasn’t far away. No, it was something else, something more terrifying.
Then Luke was pushing him back, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube conveniently on the side table.
“Do you wanna?” Luke whispered, voice hoarse and husky with desire.
“Of course,” Mikey managed to choke out. “I always wanna with you.”
Luke felt like he’d been flayed open. His heart was too big for his chest, like it was going to pop out at any moment.
This was all, so much, too much, perhaps, but he wasn’t going to back away from it, wasn’t going to let his flight-or-fight instincts kick in.
He was going to just let himself be swept along by whatever it was Luke Carter wanted to do with him.
The feeling was intoxicating. It was terrifying. He never wanted it to end. He was pretty sure he couldn’t stand it.
Then they were on the couch and Luke was lubing himself up and lowering himself down on Mikey’s aching cock.
He was pretty sure he could’ve died at that moment, and he wouldn’t have been able to find a thing to complain about.
Luke was so tight and so hot, his body so lean and just the right amount of hairy, and Mikey reached out and grabbed his plump ass, relishing the feeling of skin against skin, of knowing Luke was his, heart and soul and body.
Luke started to grind himself against Mikey, the friction so exciting it was all Mikey could do to keep from cumming right then.
“Slow, slow, slow,” he whispered–panted, really–and Luke did as he asked, grinning down at him.
“Do I feel good, baby?” he asked. He twitched his hips just a little, causing Mikey to gasp.
He leaned forward and nipped Luke’s neck in return, biting him in just the way to get him excited.
A moan slipped out of his mouth, so deep and rich and throaty it pushed Mikey right to the edge again.
With an effort he pulled himself back. It all felt too good, and he didn’t want to waste it, didn’t want to cum until they were both ready for the release that could only come from each other.
Then their bodies just took over, both of them reduced to nothing but raw, naked need, neither of them quite able to get enough of the other.
In all the ways that mattered they were one, their bodies connecting in a deep, primal way Mikey had never experienced with another person.
Luke felt so goddamn good inside, and the fact he was willing to open himself up to Mikey–no, that they were able and willing to open up to each other–was the most precious gift Mikey could imagine.
“Luke,” he panted, when the pressure and the pleasure were getting to be too much, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to last…much…longer.”
Luke put his hands on either side of Mikey’s face and tilted his head up, bringing his lips down. They crashed together, all frantic movement, the tang of teeth clashing against one another again and again.
Luke didn’t have to say anything. In fact, neither of them had to say anything. Their bodies did the talking for them and, as Mikey’s orgasm began to crest inside of him, he moaned into Luke’s mouth, just as Luke shot his load all over him. He groaned as he came, losing all thought.
It took them both a few minutes to come down from the high, and when they did they both just stayed where they were, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another.
I wish we could stay like this forever, Mikey thought.
He gently kissed Luke’s collarbone, and he shivered.
“I hate to admit it,” he said, voice right next to Mikey’s ear, “but you really seem to know how to play me like a fiddle.”
Mikey laughed deep in his throat and kissed the same spot again, eliciting another shiver.
“Is that so? And how do you feel about that, Luke Carter?”
“I don’t hate it,” Luke said, leaning back so he could look in Mikey’s eyes. “You really are a unicorn: the perfect vers.”
Mikey flushed. He cherished the compliment.
They lay there for a few more minutes, but they finally separated.
“I hate to be a bummer again,” Luke said, “but we should get some more work done. These songs aren’t going to finish writing themselves.”
Mikey sighed. He did hate to admit it, but Luke was absolutely right. Duty called.
And so, having both admitted they couldn’t just lay in one another’s arms all day–as much as they’d both like to do so–they both got showers (separate, because they knew they’d end up getting distracted if they took a shower together) and settled in to write again.
Maybe it was the sex, or maybe it was the fact they’d both started to appreciate what the other brought to the table creatively.
Or maybe it was just the fact nothing motivated like a deadline.
For whatever reason, they both found the lyrics and the notes and the orchestration really started to flow out of them.
One of them would propose an idea or a theme or a line, and the other would pick it up and run with it.
The afternoon ticked by, and before long the sun was starting to set.
They weren’t done yet, not by a long shot, but they did have the beginnings of a pretty decent set list, and their original songs were coming along better than either of them could’ve imagined when the week began.
Luke’s entire living room was filled with sheets of paper, all of them filled up with lines and notes and words.
It looked exactly like you’d expect a room to look after a couple of songwriters were done with it, and it made Mikey really, really happy.