Chapter 21
Ray wakes to the sound of knocking.
Knocking? Who’s knocking? Where?
As he barely opens his eyes, it takes him a moment to register where he is—and who he’s with.
Gene is still hugging him from behind. Naked, under the blanket. Gene’s lips graze the back of his shoulder; Ray can feel his warm breath on his skin. It’s the next morning: the first day of October. Carol’s modeling gig is at ten—
“Ray?! I know you’re in there. Are you still sleeping?”
It’s Carol’s voice. She knocks again, harder.
Ray’s heart nearly bursts from his chest.
“Uh… yeah! Just a moment!” he shouts, sitting up abruptly, making Gene let go of him. His best friend groans, rubbing his eyes.
“Ugh, my head…” Gene says.
“Fuck. Carol’s outside the door,” Ray whispers, jumping out of the bed as quietly as he can. “Hurry, put your clothes on.”
“Carol is…? Fuck. Fuck, okay.”
Ray tiptoes across the floor, spotting his clothes near the door. He can’t have Carol hear him—she’d wonder why he’s pacing around the room like this. So he lies low, barely making a sound as he snatches his belongings, hurrying back toward the bed to shuffle them back on.
“What’s taking you so long?” She jingles the doorknob. Thank god I locked it last night. “You mind opening the door?”
“I’m sorry, I’m literally just waking up,” Ray tells her, which is true. She doesn’t need to know the fact that he woke up naked with Gene, though.
“I’m actually just going to head into the bathroom and turn on the shower,” Gene whispers, holding all his clothes in his arms. “I’ll turn it on right away so it seems like I just got in. I need to take one anyways.”
“Alright,” Ray whispers back, stepping into his pants.
Gene almost drops his scarf as he walks around the bed.
It drags on the floor as he hustles into the bathroom, trying his best to shut the door without a sound.
Ray zips up his fly, then throws his glittery blouse over his shoulders, fumbling with the buttons.
He spots his socks near his shoes still, but figures he can leave those off for the moment.
Once the shower is turned on and Ray feels presentable for the most part, he finally walks over and unlocks the door.
In no time at all, Carol swings it open, hurrying into the room and shutting it behind herself.
She’s already dressed to impress for her gig later, wearing a yellow knit turtleneck and flared red pants, a silver necklace dangling over her shirt.
“Why didn’t you come back into the room?” She glares at him.
“Oh… uh, just lost track of time?” Ray itches the back of his head. “I came in here to jam with Gene and ended up just getting so tired, we fell asleep.”
“To jam, huh?” She puts a hand on her hip, eyeing around the rest of the room. “It looks to me like Gene never took his acoustic out of its case, with how nicely it’s sitting against the wall.”
Ray turns around, spotting the guitar in question. “He just put it back! That’s all,” he lies. “Nothing weird about that.”
“And you were so tired that you… slept in your clothes from yesterday? That’s your sparkly blouse from the show. I know you and Gene share clothes sometimes. You couldn’t even borrow some of his pajamas?”
“Um…” His hands feel clammy. He holds them by his sides, wiping his palms against his hips. “Yeah. I drank a bit too, along with smoking, and just passed out when we were done.” He says that, although he didn’t have a drop to drink, and barely even smoked.
“Ray, you don’t sound very convincing.” She frowns. “There’s only one bed in this room…”
“Babe, you know I’ve slept next to Gene countless times on tours before. That’s normal.”
“Why is there a jar of Vaseline on the nightstand?”
“What?” Ray turns again, spotting it—his chest feels like it’s going to explode. Fuck. We left it out. “Uh… Gene needs it for his hands sometimes after playing guitar. Helps with his callouses.”
“You guys didn’t invite a girl in here and she’d already left on her merry way, have you?!”
She throws an arm out, nearly slapping Ray, just barely missing.
“What the hell? No, of course not!” Ray breathes in deep through his nose. “Nothing sexual happened with anyone. It must’ve been Santi that told you I was just in here with Gene, right?” He needs to shift the topic away somehow—and fast.
“Yeah. He mentioned you were ‘jamming’ with Gene, too. But still… Something still doesn’t seem right. I don’t get it.” She shakes her head.
Either Carol thinks Ray would only have sex with women, or she’s not speaking up about any suspicions she may have on him and Gene. Regardless, Ray just needs this conversation to be over.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry I lost track of things and stayed overnight here. I’ll spend as much time as you want with you after your gig, alright? Just us, none of the rest of the Brooms.”
Carol scoffs. “Just like how you had to ‘make it up to me’ after that vacation for the Fourth of July, right?”
Ray gulps. “Hey, this isn’t like that, okay? It’s not a holiday or anything. Everything’s fine. I said I was sorry.”
She sighs, tilting her head down in what appears to be… defeat. “Whatever. I’m tired of arguing about this. Come on, you wanna just get some breakfast with me before my gig starts?”
His shoulders instantly relax, his jaw unclenching. “Yeah, sure. Well, maybe before we do that, I should take a shower first.”
“A quick one, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Ray grabs his socks, shuffling them over his feet, and he slides his shoes on before he and Carol head out, leaving Gene still in the bathroom.
After a very awkward breakfast, barely saying a word to Carol, Ray sees her off to her gig.
It’s in a giant skyscraper taller than any of the ones he knows in Detroit, and thankfully he doesn’t need to travel high, as Carol meets her agent, Tim Price, in the ground floor lobby.
Tim will be dropping her off at the Brooms’ hotel later tonight, so at least Ray doesn’t need to worry about picking her up.
And so, he’s left to his own devices. He spends the day with Gene and the rest of the Brooms and their entourage, exploring New York City.
Unfortunately Andy Warhol is busy today, so they can’t visit his house like they did earlier in the year.
But there’s still plenty of other things to do.
The first place they visit is the Cloisters museum, home of the magnificent medieval unicorn tapestries.
Gene, Santiago, and Maurice all knew about them from their time in art school, and have been eager to check them out in person.
Ray stares in awe with Gene by his side, looking at the beautiful, giant works of art.
For lunch, they all stop at a local pizzeria to try some authentic, thin crust, New York Style pizza.
It’s much better than anything Ray’s ever eaten in Detroit, and he scarfs it down gladly.
Afterwards, since they’re already nearby, they all spend some time walking around Central Park.
It’s such an amazing place, seeing this much greenery surrounded by steel.
A perfect little nature getaway for those stuck in an urban landscape.
They get some much needed dinner afterwards at a renowned Italian restaurant, and then it’s back to their hotel.
As much as Ray wants to spend the rest of the night with Gene again, he knows he can’t, lest he make Carol even angrier.
He didn’t have a chance to talk to Gene about what he and Carol had argued about earlier since they were always surrounded by their bandmates, but Gene didn’t seem worried.
He simply looked like he was having fun with everyone, smiling that handsome smile, especially when directed at Ray.
And so, Ray waits for Carol in his own room. As he sits on the bed listening to the radio, he spots her suitcase. It’s open, clothes tossed around carelessly inside it. Normally he would ignore it, but something catches his eye. Something delicate, red, and… lacy.
He hops off the bed and kneels down to get a closer look.
She won’t notice if he messes the clothes up a little, as they’re already rather messy.
So he lifts up the items in question—finding a full set of red lingerie.
A bra, panties, stockings, and garterbelt.
He’s never seen her wear these. And yet, they’re here, packed in her suitcase.
Was she planning on wearing this for me sometime during the tour? I didn’t even know she owned them.
She must’ve planned to wear them, since as he shuffles them around in his hands, he can’t find any tags—which means she must’ve cut them off already.
But when? Maybe she wanted to wear them last night, but since Ray never showed up in the room, she probably just took them off and tossed them here.
That’s the most logical answer, in Ray’s mind.
Something impulsive takes him over as he grabs the bra. There’s no padding in it, merely see-through cups covered in lace, and… he holds it up to his own chest.
What if… I tried it on?
He shakes his head, then sets it back down on top of the other clothes. No, that’s ridiculous. He can’t just try on her clothes without asking her first, especially underwear. It’s not like how he is with Gene, where they share clothes and underwear without a care in the world.
But then—another thought pokes at his brain.
What if I wore this lingerie for Gene?
His cock twitches at that.
Ray and Carol are basically around the same size weight-wise, only he’s a little taller than her.
Maybe the panties might fit a bit strangely on him, seeing as they’re not designed for someone with a cock.
And he definitely wouldn’t be able to fill out the bra with his flat chest. But the stockings should fit fine, along with the garterbelt, and regardless of how well he’d fit into the other things, Gene would probably enjoy seeing him wear it…