Five
Of course Kaj was stupid enough to show up at the party.
He wasn’t doing it because he thought he could handle himself, or because Bjorn had been spamming him with stickers. And definitely not because he gave a shit about reconnecting with people he hadn’t seen in months. No. He’d accepted this invitation to watch Noah outside the neutral area that was the rehearsal room.
Noah irritated Kaj just by breathing. The intensity in his eyes while they were filming last weekend, the shift in the tension between them since then, was loud and clear, no matter how hard Noah pretended Kaj didn’t affect him. And he… was intrigued.
Harsh beats drowned the space, muffling the turmoil inside of Kaj as soon as he stepped into the nightclub or concert hall, or whatever you wanted to call it—it served both purposes. It wasn’t the biggest in the city, but it looked nice after the renovations. However, the grunge vibes with the installations on full display and black light washing over most of the space made him feel out of place. Like he’d been traveling for ages and was nothing but a stranger to his own story now. Good thing he wasn’t feeling the palpitations that usually accompanied him when he came to a place like this half a year ago. Baby steps .
Pushing through the crowd as he walked toward the bar, Kaj tipped his head to everyone. As expected, he recognized most faces. Wrath ov Gods knew the owners of the venue, and whenever they wanted to celebrate something, they paid to have it closed for them—the perks of befriending the right people.
The soles of Kaj’s boots ripped across the sticky floor like Velcro. The air smelled like sweat and cologne, with some citrus thrown in the mix. He didn’t miss the scene.
“You made it!” Bjorn screamed as soon as he saw Kaj. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“Of course. Happy birthday, redhead!” Kaj hugged him.
“Thanks.” He grinned. “How have you been? It’s been ages since I last saw you.”
“Good.”
“Like in your texts, so much detail! Thanks for the update.”
“Nothing new is going on with me, honestly.” Kaj chuckled. “My life is mostly music, gym, and repeat.”
“That’s why you’re looking so hot,” he said, squeezing Kaj’s biceps.
“Larsen!” a musician from another band called loud enough to be heard above the music. “Long time no see!” He tripped over himself, making the hug feel more like a tackle.
“Hey...” Kaj’s heart cowered as he grabbed the guy’s shoulders to put some distance between them.
It didn’t happen with his closest friends anymore, but unsolicited human contact made him uncomfortable, especially if the person reeked of alcohol.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Can’t blame you. This place is so lame without me.”
“It is! The other night I was sitting on my stool without bothering anyone when…”
The drummer nodded without really paying attention as the guy rambled on, losing sight of the cornerstone of his story with unimportant details.
Once he walked away, Kaj and Bjorn sat on a comfy leather couch with their coats balled up behind them. Acquaintances came and went, sharing some tittle-tattle before they were finally left alone.
Bjorn was one of those with whom Kaj would spend hours talking and never get tired. Along with Mads, Val, and his bandmates, this dude was the only other person he’d met a decade ago and could still call a real friend. Tonight, for example, topics varied from the weather to gym bro babble, music gear, and horror movies. But most importantly, he made Kaj forget about everything that kept him away from these gatherings.
Going out in the end hadn’t been such a bad idea. It felt nice to talk about everything and anything, catching up over a non-alcoholic drink, even if it was a Squash and Kaj’s eyes not-so-subtly drifted to the whiskey behind the bar when he went to get a new one. Or so he thought, until Noah popped into the conversation.
“Have you fucked him already?” Bjorn said like he was asking the hour.
Kaj had never introduced his hookups to his friends—they didn’t mean shit—but with Noah, it was different. Although, well, it wasn’t like he’d introduced them, but he didn’t bother to hide who he was. He’d kicked his bandmates out of the room they were all sharing when they played gigs away from home to have phone sex with him. Ditched them to go meet Noah several times, too. So Bjorn was more than aware of what had happened between them.
“Who the hell do you think I am?”
“A walking erection?” Bjorn shrugged with a stupid grin.
“Asshole.” Kaj gave him the finger while sipping his orange soda.
“I’m just saying, he’s always kinda been a weak spot for you.”
“I haven’t screwed anyone in five months and not gonna start now.”
Kaj was trying to stay celibate, like they had suggested in rehab. Apparently, intimacy and sex could take your focus off the healing process, making you rely on your partner in an unhealthy way. He’d failed at doing this the last few times he’d tried to get clean, so it was time for a different strategy.
It was tough, though. For the past eight years, he had been busy getting himself stoned, composing, and touring. He’d been a functional addict for a long time, and his libido was always quite high. But in the last months before he totally lost control, although he was horny during the transitory lucid moments between one fix and the next, he couldn’t get hard. And now that he was stronger and healthier again, his dick was waking up from a deep slumber, reminding him that he wasn’t built for this type of abstinence.
“Oh, shit! Sorry,” Bjorn apologized between chuckles. “I keep forgetting.”
“How about I kick you in the balls? That way you won’t feel like humping anyone and get a taste yourself.”
“That’s cruel.” Bjorn laughed, tossing his head back and all.
“Yeah, like the frustration I’m piling up. Life’s not fair.”
“And you haven’t thought about getting laid at least once? Might help to release some of that tension.” Bjorn waved a hand, motioning to his entire persona.
“Hello, have you met me?” Kaj snorted. “There’s not such a thing as just once for me.”
“Not even with sex?”
Kaj leaned back on the sectional, letting his ass slide a bit on his seat as he looked ahead of them. “Nope.”
The healing process he was going through had made him realize that a lot of the times he’d fucked someone, it wasn’t an actual sexual impulse but a bargaining chip he used to get something in return—a room when Mads started seeing other people, food when he couldn’t make ends meet, and the most important of all, reclaim his power. It was both a physiological need and a coping mechanism. And even though he loved that filthy exchange of energies, no matter the reasons behind it, he understood it was better to avoid it for now.
Kaj didn’t want his past to define who he was. He wanted to be able to discern whether he desired to fuck someone because he craved their touch or because he was trying to escape his mind. He wanted to not need a line or a highball to deal with his own emotions. He wanted to be okay.
“Jeez… can’t even imagine what that must be like. Tell me you are at least allowed to jerk off.”
“I am, and I do. A lot.”
“Good.” Bjorn cackled.
Just then, Kaj saw Noah.
He was chatting with Aksel and a dude Kaj had seen around before—a roadie from another band. They seemed to be having a good time, all good vibes, bullshit, and grins glowing in a purple shade under the black light of the club.
Kaj tilted his glass and gulped down what was left of his soda as Bjorn continued talking about his last hookup.
Noah was touching his right eyebrow, like he used to do when he felt uncomfortable after being dragged into a conversation with people he didn’t know. Still, wearing some faux confidence, tight jeans ripped at the knees, combat boots, and a turtleneck shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he blended into the crowd like he’d been part of this forever. His gestures were so smooth and graceful, Kaj was mesmerized.
Then Aksel walked away, leaving Noah alone with the other guy. Kaj had no idea what they were talking about, but he didn’t need to as Fuckboy inched closer to Noah’s ear.
He was normal-looking. Dark, short hair. Tattoos. Piercings. He was also kind of bulky, though he wasn’t particularly tall. Maybe he was funny, and a good person. Yet Kaj didn’t give a fuck about any of that. The only thing that mattered to him was the way he was making Noah smile. Since when is he so receptive to strangers?
Something snapped, and the tightness in his chest became idiotic and illogical.
Despite everything that had happened between them and over the years. Even if they weren’t together anymore, even if they argued more than they breathed these days, every piece of Noah that Kaj had broken would always belong to him.
As if he heard his thoughts, Noah turned around. Their gazes met in the semi-darkness of this place, and the desire to hurt him bred in the fibers of Kaj’s heart like tar.
“Fuck,” he cursed between gritted teeth, averting his eyes.
“What is it?” Bjorn asked.
“I need a smoke.”
“You’re killing yourself with that shit!” Bjorn called as he walked away, putting on his bomber jacket.
Striding in the direction where he’d come in two hours ago, Kaj felt like he was boiling inside. He didn’t know if he was angrier at himself for letting that mating ritual scene drive him off a cliff, or with Noah for flirting with someone. How did that make any sense?
With his eyes fixed on the starless sky, he took a long drag of his cig. The street was a strange canvas where neoclassical architecture and modernism met. Different music styles came out of the clubs as people walked in and out. Some were already going back home, others waiting in line to enter the new trendy place, and a few, like him, just needed to poison themselves.
Everything around him was muffled. All he could hear was his pounding heart and the tobacco burning every time he inhaled.
Several minutes went by with cold whipping across his face and smoke simmering into his lungs. Kaj was about to go inside, feeling slightly calmer, when a guy he didn’t know approached.
“Hey, sorry. Do you have another cig?” He motioned to Kaj’s hand as he was putting the stub out on the ashtray by the club’s door.
“Yeah.” Kaj reached for the packet and offered him one, along with the lighter.
“Thanks, man,” he said after lighting it.
Anise. Mint. Notes of amber and rose.
Kaj’s stomach turned over.
“S-sure.”
Kaj was paralyzed when the guy left.
As of today, he still couldn’t remember all the details of the times Jesper had raped him. It was a blur of images and phantom sensations that made him nauseous, but his body hadn’t forgotten. It was a videotape on which his trauma had been recorded.
Fighting to cling to reality, Kaj tried to rationalize his knee-jerk aversion to this particular odor. He knew it was all in his head. The guy from before was rugged, bearded, dark-haired—the complete opposite of Jesper—but the way he smelled… Fuck . He trembled. That cologne was the same one his stepbrother used to wear.
It had been a long while since Kaj had tripped into these shifting sands. He knew he wasn’t there, but as his mind split in half, he lost touch with reality.
He stood barefoot on a bed of leaves furiously swirling around him. He didn’t know whether he’d fall or take off. God. Not again. Fuck.
HELP.
The stench of cheap cologne and sweat invaded Kaj’s nostrils. Fingers slid over his skin, creeping into his bones. He tried to fight it, but he was lightheaded. The strength of Jesper’s unending grip pushed him down. This isn’t really happening. A rough palm covered his mouth. A scream died in his throat. Get out of there.
Excruciating pain.
Red numbers.
Upside down world.
“Why are you crying? You wanted it.”
He was sixteen again.
Kaj squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back on the wall, scrunching his nose as his chest caved in. He took a deep breath as he tried to suppress the tremors shaking his entire body. Someone here must have coke, speed, or something. Anything.
Years had passed since the last time panic bashed him this way. And while Kaj knew he was better off drugs, when he got triggered, his first instinct was to hide in the daze they provided. It was pathetic, but it was a comfort zone where nothing hurt.
Kaj writhed, and his mouth dried out just thinking about the trip that shit used to give him. The pleasure. The euphoria. The sensation that everything was okay. He knew how it worked. He wasn’t new to this detrimental urge. Even if certain structural and functional brain alterations still persisted, he had the tools to fight the cravings. Problem was, right now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Kaj?”
A palm touched his shoulder, startling him. Kaj’s eyes flew open as he gasped for air. Why does it have to be him every fucking time?
“You okay?” Noah asked.
“I’m fine,” Kaj grunted as bile crept up his throat.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You want me to bring you something?”
“Just leave me alone.”
Noah sighed, face twisting with what looked like genuine concern before returning to its usual imperturbability. “Fine. We’re leaving anyway.”
Kaj glared at the dude standing behind Noah, then at him. A conflict he had no desire going into arose within.
He gripped his phone in the pocket of his bomber, itching to text Xander or Aksel, even Val, to come outside and get him, but he didn’t want to burden them with this shit. Not again. He was not a baby they needed to take care of. He also thought about his sponsor. She’d said to call her if he ever needed to talk, no matter the hour. But, although she understood what he was experiencing better than anyone else, she didn’t make him feel as tethered as the guys. Why couldn’t he get through this by himself?
“Have fun,” Kaj gritted and turned around, dialing her number.
“See you tomorrow.”