New York, November 14th, 2008
Oh God, I didn’t expect it to be so painful and heart breaking! David, my love – if you could have seen the look in your glassy, olive-green eyes you’d know. I think I could have repeated it a thousand times – that it’s just meant as a time-out to heal sort of, but you obviously was too weak to listen and let your heart tell you the truth. Your conscience must just have yelled something about loss. You haven’t lost me at all, my dark hero! I might have lost you now. Am I playing into Jenny’s cards?
“Curly, I need you!” Your cracking voice and the tears that were threatening nearly broke my will but with my last energies I could resist to tell you it was just an idea and we could go on like before. I can’t! I simply can’t watch you getting lesser while I’m nurtured by your presence, the warmth of your body and soul. You accused me of pushing you away, retreating into my ivory tower when it’s getting complicated and emotionally exhausting and painful. Are you so much different, my lover? I admit I do not have a clue at the moment what’s right or wrong. I’m never wrong with my heart and soul though, my spiritual connection to the universe. I don’t know what it is with your aura recently that a cold fist clings around my heart and I shudder like in the face of nearing death. I haven’t told you but I dreamt about “Knocking On Death’s Door” again. You might remember I once told you concerning the significance of this song for me. I might be paranoid and stressed out as well, but I saw you in your best black suit. That coffin wasn’t a joke from the guys on tour, though the lining was the same purple colour. Christ, I’m losing it! My tired brain is playing tricks on me! It sounds so abysmally sick I really better hold my tongue. It’s giving me the creeps. I want you to come home, but to me, into my arms…not six feet under! Maybe it’s just my midlife crisis kicking in, opening my mind to the finitude of existence. I don’t want to lose you, David! You’re already such an important part of my life that I’m scared to death apparently!
Lord, give me strength to carry on! I never thought I would become that much religious again, fuck! I’ll pray for some divine intervention – the one you clearly seem to believe in.
I love you, David!
When Mart wakes up the next morning, his eyes meet the MacBook that still rests next to him on the empty side of the bed. He sighs and scratches his tummy, swinging his legs lazily over his side off the mattress.
A little later – having showered and spruced up – room service delivers the breakfast cart. He’s got an hour still before having to head to Chun King. Still deep in thoughts his fingers butter the toast, his teeth bite an edge and his mouth chews and swallows – all kind of mechanically.
“Dave called in sick for the next three days.” John greets him when he enters the main studio, letting his IT-bag sink onto the black couch. The blond man slouches his shoulders. “I saw that one coming. It’s for the best. He needs to get those germs out off his system properly.” “Let’s hope he’ll make good use of it. Whatever I told him just bounced off.” JK brushes over his beard and pats Mart’s shoulder. “Let’s get things started here. There’s enough to tweak even without worrying about the vocal parts.”
The three days extend to a full week. Dave really caught some nasty infection plus the whole situation definitely strung him out more than he’d admit it to the outside.
Within a glimpse it’s November 26th, one day before Thanksgiving. Every band member would spend it with family and friends. A nice long weekend home. Martin sighs deeply and throws some clothes into his suitcase that takes most of the space on his king size bed. Calo’s happy face still is burned into his synapses from skyping earlier. It’s about time to spend some precious moments with his kids in person again. He has to smile a little. Yesterday Rosie accompanied Dave and brought tons of homemade cookies. Yes, Christmas was coming closer pretty fast. Opposed to his daughter’s bright, happy face Dave still is not really himself again, though he talks casually with him again, even goofing around. Mart can’t help it. Partially it’ll be due to Andy being quite busy with his fucking Fletch-Cam recently. Moreover it’s his way building a security fence around himself, not allowing too many emotions to the surface.
A knock at the door lets Martin drop the socks onto the comforter. He didn’t order anything. Curiously he walks over to the door and checks the video intercom. A wellknown profile appears on the display.
Gosh, it’d look silly if I’d refuse to open the door!
He opens and the singer passes him without a greeting. The moment the door falls into it’s lock and Mart wants to turn around he feels strong arms around his chest and is pushed against the thick wood.
“I don’t fucking care what you say! I want to fuck you senseless now!” The dark-green irises are whirling and the determination and passion in them let Mart shudder with a hot longing. He’s got no time to even think of anything sensible as Dave’s hungry lips are all over the place, his jeans-trapped hardness pressing against his jogging pants clad groin. Their teeth clash against each others. Martin allows his lover to take possession of his mouth. The brunette man’s rib cage is already frantically heaving when he swiftly loosens his grip and pulls the turtleneck pullover over his head. Ripping Mart’s t-shirt off him he presses his bare chest against the other one’s, enjoying the feel of skin on skin. “Let’s take this over to the bed, Dave.”, the curly head manages to groan between kisses. “No!” Dave’s teeth scrape along Mart’s throat evoking a deep, loud moan from the depth of his rib cage. Fast fingers pull down his trainers and then nestle with his own fly. Martin already is too much lost in the moment that he’s able to think anything coherent. When David presses his hard member against his raging hardness his knees go weak. Both men glide down onto the carpet, Dave immediately hovering over Mart’s trembling body. More demanding, wet, feverish kisses. All Mart can do is letting himself be swept away by the flow of passion, answering his lover’s greedy lips.
“How could you even think this would be going to work?! I can’t be without you – not for long, not when you’re around!” Dave’s hot breath feels like a wild fire on Mart’s now hypersensitive and receptive skin. The next is a velvety suction and with a gasp the blond man realizes that his cock just disappears completely in the other man’s soft, moist mouth. The evil glint in his dark-olive eyes tells Martin that Dave knows fully well he won’t need long to make him explode. Taking him extra deep, letting him feel the back of his throat, he drives his partner mad with want. The second before the final release he retreats suddenly and with the complaining growl Mart’s sticky load splatters onto Dave’s waxed chest. He leans back a bit more, closes his eyes and starts to smear the viscous, milky liquid all over his front. “Ah, I love you all over me, Curly!” Mart still is busy to catch some breath yet he still stares at his friend’s naughty actions. Sitting up he starts to lick off himself from Dave’s soft skin. “Yeah, just like that!” Martin knows that Dave dies for the raspy feeling of his tongue. Just as much as he himself enjoys the texture of his fragrant skin – the tiny, hard nipples, the line of his collar bone, the navel…he could go on and on.
“Come to the shower. I need you all slippery and wet.” Dave helps Mart up to his feet and drags him direction bathroom. “You’re not going to forget this time for a while.” Martin is wax in Dave’s hands. Without any resistance he follows his lover, his member already stirring again.
Dave opens the valve and the water splashes over their heated bodies. Leaning back against the white tiles he eyes his opposite. Clinging one leg around Martin’s hip he reaches for the shower gel.
“Take me now…and don’t hold back!” Without thinking Mart opens his left palm and Dave squeezes a reasonable amount of the bottle content into it. Applying it whrere it’s needed most, the blond man then grabs Dave under his glutes and lifts him a little to find a good position. Glued to the now dark, glowing eyes in front of him he pushes forward and after a short point of resistance his well sized dick moves into the tight, muscular channel – filling it up to the hilt. The expression on Dave’s face is kind of spaced out. Closing his eyes tightly the moment Mart is completely encased inside him he lets his head sink backwards and opens his mouth in a silent yell. Mart doesn’t move an inch and stays still, taking in the moment. Long, slim fingers dig into his back, signalling him to keep on thrusting. Mart bends over to kiss Dave and then starts building up a moderate rhythm. “More, give me more, Baby!” Deeper and harder – Martin is close to lose his conscience. Dave’s right – how could I think we could exist without this!
“Do you always get what you want?” Mart tenderly kisses Dave’s closed eyelids, adjusting the blanket over their naked, still slightly damp bodies. “No. Only when I really need and want it.” He blinks. “I need you, Curly. I want you. I love you.” He kisses his lover’s nose tip. “As easy as that. And so complicated, I know.” He snuggles closer into the offered arm. “I’m able to learn. It took a while again, but I see your point now.” He smirks. “Once a week till Christmas break?” “Argh, Dave!” “Well, pick a day and we have something to look forward to.” “Mmmh.” “Not OK?” “What’s if you want me a day earlier or I can’t stand seeing you wiggling your hot ass and it’s not on the schedule?” “And I thought I was complicated!” Mart bursts into a roaring laughter. “You’re so easy to confuse, my dark angel! It’s fine with me. If you unfortunately should have your migraine that day we just cuddle and I’ll pamper you.” Dave turns serious again. “Hey, it’s not just about the sex. I want to spend time with you, feel, touch and smell you. Talking stupid things with you. Just like now.” Mart swallows and searches eye contact. “Like an old couple.” The brunette man pokes into his flank. “Yeah, we could tell our grandchildren about it.” His voice trails off. “You’re mine.” He pats onto his left upper chest. Martin’s hand follows and covers Dave’s fingers, resting there for a while.