Page 23 of 4-Ever

“I call the window seat,” Holls quipped.

“So, are we all in agreement?” I asked. “Ro?”

Ronin pulled me in for a hug. “Like you ever need to ask.”

Nine Days Later

Ronin

Berlin was our cheapest flight option.

Germany was cool and kinda overwhelming, but in the best way. New people, different language. It was energizing.

Cancelling our US bookings however, made me nervous. At least back home, we knew we had gigs lined up. Here? Anything could happen.

And if we didn’t get any bookings, if the fans didn’t like us and we had to return home, we’d have lost out on money we desperately needed. Or that I desperately needed. Brodie and Holls didn’t like to ask their respective parent(s) for money, but if they needed to, they could. And did. Faise too.

Everyone but me. And I didn’t like the others funding my room or expenses. Brodie insisted that we were family, and it was no biggie, but I didn’t like feeling the odd one out.

Someday, I was going to have enough money so that me, my mom, and my sister would never have to worry again.

For now, I put aside my fears and trusted in Faise’s idea. It might be the change we needed.

It had already inspired Brodie to write a new song on the way over here. Nine Gone Wrong was going to be our debut when we hit the Berlin stage.

Our first night, we made fast friends with a bouncer at a downtown club. Which led us to an invite to an underground party, queer friendly, and full of twentysomethings like us. We popped pills, snorted coke, and danced until we sweated it all away.

Most of the crowd spoke English as well as German, so we were gold. And we met a group of guys that were also struggling musicians. Bruno, Anton, and twins Elias and Carl were members of a rock group called Die Tier. Translation: The Beast. And fuck, they were all that and more. Talented, fierce, and sexy as hell.

After out-dancing and out-drinking us, they invited us to another after, after party. Instead, we invited them back to our hotel. I don’t remember much except landing on one of the beds in the room, then it was lights out. I woke up the next day to a room that smelled like stale beer, cigs, and cum.

At least someone got lucky last night.

When I looked around, Holls was asleep beside me, and Anton beside him. Brodie was passed out on the sofa, with Bruno on the floor by his feet.

But where was my…

A loud groan had me rolling over to look for Faise.

He was lying on the second bed, his back against the headboard. But he wasn’t asleep.

Carl and Elias, the blond twins, were keeping him company. Or rather, one of them (don’t ask me which one) knelt between Faise’s legs, sucking him off.

Without hesitation my hand reached for my cock, my morning semi turning to a raging hard on despite my hangover.

“Yeah, fuck, just like that,” Faise moaned loudly. “Take it all. Suck harder.”

For the quietest guy in the band, Faise sure was loud when it came to sex. I licked my lips as I watched him gripped Carl/Elias’s spiky hair, taking control of his movements.

That was another thing I’d learned lately about my best friend. He wasn’t the biggest or loudest guy around, but he could be a total power top.

God, they’re so hot together.

The other twin sat up and leaned over, licking, and playing with Faise’s pierced nipples. Goddamn it, the filthy echo of their grunts and moans had me working my dick faster. Spitting in my hand, I jacked off, needing to come so fucking bad.

“Yeah, just like that,” Faise panted. “Are you gonna swallow my cum?”

The twin moaned; the sound muffled by the cock in his throat. But judging by the flush on the guy’s body, and the way his hand frantically worked in tandem with his mouth, he looked eager as hell for Faise’s cum.

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