Page 11 of Saint's Sinner

“Wait, turn it up, I love this song.”

With Shinedown’s A Symptom of Being Human blaring from the radio and Sinn pressed against his back, they’d sat straddling Night’s idling machine, that sad guitar mingling with the rough purr of his engine. It was his first time hearing the song, but the lyrics had resonated with him in a way that was usually reserved for the hardcore metal he loved.

It was all about being different, upside down and not fitting into any of the molds folks tried to stuff you into. Sinn’s voice in his ear as he’d sang it had been scratchy and off key, but every bit as emotional as Shinedown’s lead singer’s, leaving Night longing to hear him without any accompaniment.

“Thanks,” Sinn murmured once the song had finished.

Night killed the engine and felt Sinn slip away from him, a wave of loss hitting him so unexpectedly that he didn’t reply. Instead, he’d sat there silently studying the beautiful man, safe from all the shrewd gazes who’d give him shit for lusting after the man who belonged to their MC’s VP. Some might even have warned Night that he was playing with fire, not that he cared. He wanted Sinn as badly as he wanted Saint, which was a whole other issue, considering his prospect status.

It wasn’t until after they had their food and were seated on the rocks near his bike that Sinn broke the silence that had descended between them.

“So why Night?”

“Why Night what?”

Sinn flopped against his shoulder and stole two fries after nearly knocking over Night’s Coke. He hoped his rescue of itwent unnoticed. Sometimes even little incidents like that sent Sinn’s mood spiraling.

“Damn, what did you do, drown them in ketchup?” Sinn grumbled even as he leaned over and snagged another one.

“Not quite, but only ‘cause the bottle gave out.”

Snickering, Sinn started licking the ketchup from his fingers, only for Night to see it as the perfect opportunity to clean the man up himself. He trapped Sinn’s hand and slowly sucked the first finger into his mouth, keeping his hold light enough that Sinn could have pulled away if he’d wanted to. Was a good feeling when he not only held still, but let out a long, low moan, then shallowly thrust his finger in and out of Night’s mouth until he was the one moaning.

“We are going to have to revisit this oral fixation of yours when only the right pair of eyes is around to see it.”

“And by the right pair, I hope you’re referring to Saint’s.”

“Can you believe his mama actually named him that?”

“Considering mine named me after a member of Guns ‘n Roses, I can pretty much believe anything when it comes to naming, seeing as I’ve got a cousin named Tequila.”

“Let me guess, named after what they were drinking when he or she was conceived.”

“She and you nailed it in one.”

“Poor girl.”

“Naa…she just makes everyone call her Kiki.”

“Sounds like a strippers name.”

“Yeah, which means it fits perfectly.”

“Damn.”

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds like your family is as interesting and out there as mine is,” Sinn replied. “Though now I’m left to guess just which member of GnR you were named after and please don’t tell me Slash, that would be too easy.”

“Not Slash and not Axel, before you go there.”

“Okay, so much for the obvious choices. You’re what, twenty-four? So what are the odds we’re not talking original G n’ R members?”

“Twenty-two, and yeah, I’m named for one of the OG five.”

“Duff?”

“Naa, that’s my twin brother’s name though.”

---