Chapter 21 #2
Gene smiles back. “Thanks, Ray.” He walks over to his suitcase resting against the edge of the other bed, grabs his pajamas and a change of underwear out of it, then he heads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.
As he unclasps his earring and strips out of his clothes, his head swirls again.
He didn’t think he drank that much, but he also has to take into consideration how little he’s eaten this evening.
I’ll need to do a better job balancing it all.
But he should still be fine for a shower; he doesn’t think he’ll collapse or anything.
He turns on the water and steps in. Now finally all alone, all by himself, the gentle hot water trickling over his body, it gives his mind time to wander.
Even as it spins around, this way and that, somehow his thoughts always land on Ray.
Especially tonight, especially after what happened earlier today.
I actually kissed him.
He relives the moment again and again in his memory.
It all happened so fast, too fast—he wishes so deeply to experience it again.
It felt so different from how he’d kissed women in the past. Ray’s luscious lips against his, the heat of his breath, the immense connection between them, the racing pace of his heart…
Nerves and flutters poke and prod all around his body, moving lower, down his abdomen, even further down, making his cock stiffen.
So far, every time he’d thought of Ray in this way, he ignored the sensation.
But something tells him he should give in this time.
Why not? He knows now, without a doubt, Ray enjoyed the kiss, the sensual proximity to Gene—hell, he even told Gene himself.
Ray feels attraction to Gene in the exact same way.
It riles him up, thinking about it more, how when he’d looked down at Ray’s sexy tight pants, he could see with his own eyes how hard he’d gotten.
Gene bites his lip, wiping his long bangs away from his face so water doesn’t get in his eyes.
His mind drifts further, thinking of the shower—of the night he and Ray showered together.
They’d only done it once, but the memory will live inside his mind forever.
Ray’s naked form was so beautiful, every line and inch of him—oh, how Gene wishes he could’ve had the courage, to take a chance and touch Ray more.
He can’t help himself. The memories are just too much. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his hard cock, and he begins to stroke himself.
While he might be alone in the shower, Ray is still in the other room.
He won’t hear him, but the thought alone that Ray is right behind the wall sends a shiver down his spine.
This isn’t the first time he’s jacked off in the shower—especially since living with other people, it’s usually his only opportunity to—but it’s the first time he’s allowed Ray to take center stage in his mind while doing it.
Each pump of his hand riles him up, more and more, and his fantasies take hold.
What if the hand on his cock wasn’t his own—but instead was Ray’s?
What would it feel like to touch Ray’s cock?
How big is he when hard—how different would it feel compared to his own?
Faster and faster, he strokes. The warm water feels so soothing on his skin.
What would it feel like to go even further—what would it feel like to fuck Ray?
He’s never slept with a man before, but he tries to imagine it—imagining himself on top of Ray, mouths locked together, Ray’s legs propped over his shoulders, hot sweat dripping from both of them as he thrusts and thrusts inside Ray’s tight hole, Ray’s cock flush against Gene’s abdomen…
His release hits him like a bolt of lightning.
Ropes of cum hit the shower wall, bursting out from him, spilling over his hand.
Waves of pleasure flow through him from head to toe, almost making him lose his balance—but he throws out his free hand to steady himself.
He pants, heart racing, completely overwhelmed at the intensity.
Catching his breath, he pulls his hand off his cock, washing away the remnants of his release under the shower head.
He does his best to wipe it off the wall, too, hoping whoever comes in after him won’t notice anything amiss.
His head is still spinning. Whirling, whirling, whirling.
Oh, it felt amazing, and he knows it’s because he was thinking of Ray.
Raymond Lee Roderick. Frontman and lead singer of the Dusty Brooms.
And yet, as much as he wants Ray, no matter how much he fantasizes, Ray will never be his. At least not in that sense. He never could be. The fog in his mind is slowly lifting. Reality becomes clearer. The only one who Ray can give romantic affection to is lying right next to him on the bed: Carol.
Gene must be so fucking greedy to think he can have Ray that way. What is he thinking? He’s been horny, that’s what. Horny for none other than Ray.
I guess it’s been quite a while since I’ve gotten laid.
When he thinks about it, he realizes the last time he actually had sex with anyone was…
with Carol. He squints his eyes shut and curls his nose—it’s so strange to think that even happened.
As beautiful as she is, as great an experience as it was, he could never imagine being with her like that again now.
No, at the moment, the only one on his mind is Ray.
I know Ray must feel that way about me too… He must…
The constant pinball bouncing back and forth in his thoughts is almost unbearable. He’s still drunk. He needs to finish his shower. Ray is tied to Carol, and that’s that. Even if he wasn’t, he and Gene could never be together. That’s just the reality of it. He can sulk about it, but he’ll cope.
He’ll be fine.
He has to be.
For the sake of the band.