Page 35 of Aaron
* * *
“I’m too tired,” Aaron said, while Brad strained his ears to try to hear the words, all while trying to act like he wasn’t paying any attention at all. It was a tough balancing act, but the last thing he would need right now was for another picture to make its way to Lara.
“You’re always too tired,” Ken complained, his hands on his hips as he glared at Aaron. Poor Ken. This tour had been hard on him. Brad hadn’t spent a lot of time with the guy, but he seemed like he was alone a lot of the time, his boyfriend back home in Los Angeles, and Lance and Jamie pretty much permanently attached to each other. He was the permanent third wheel, and Brad could have sympathy for that.
Not enough sympathy to encourage Aaron to go with them, though. Aaron looked over at Brad, a flicker of violet eyes, and Brad nodded, just a little bit. It was Aaron’s choice, but if Aaron asked what Brad wanted, he wasn’t going to lie about it.
“We’ve covered half the world already on this tour,” Aaron spoke calmly, quietly, so that Brad had to take half a step closer just to hear him. “I think I have the right to be tired. You guys go, have fun.”
Before Ken could complain again, Aaron stepped away, and Brad braced himself for the impact as Ken’s discontent eyes turned toward him. But they passed on. Ken, at least, seemed to have no idea that Aaron kept blowing off the post-concert partying because he was spending most of his nights with Brad.
“I’ll meet you at my hotel room,” Brad whispered because there was no way that they should be seen leaving together. Not when it seemed like someone, at least, was watching. Aaron shot him a surprised look but nodded, and at least it seemed like he still wanted to see Brad, even with how strained things were. He slipped Aaron the key to his room, which Aaron accepted, though not without a deeply thoughtful look.
Brad let Aaron leave first, chatting with the head of security, tending to the things that he needed to tend to. The Lost Boys left, still seeming a little dejected that Aaron had chosen not to go with them, and Brad sighed and waited as long as he could make himself wait before he finally followed Aaron out.
* * *
They were going to have to talk.
There were things, too many things, that were going unsaid between them. Too many things that Brad had been just as happy to leave unsaid, truth to be told. But now, with the close call with Lara, and with the ultimatum, and with Brad’s own growing feelings, it was time for them to hash some things out.
Outside of his door, Brad stared down at the blank, unassuming whiteness. The door was clean, very, very clean, except that there was a small scuff mark by the peephole. Brad knew this because he had been standing there, staring at it, for at least the last five minutes.
We need to talk. Those words had to be some of the scariest in the English language when they were strung together like that, but Brad needed to say them. In a few seconds, he could ruin everything between the two of them, because he had already noted how Aaron didn’t like feeling trapped.
Brad reached for the handle to the door, and just as his fingers had wrapped around the smooth, cool, brushed metal surface, the door slid open, and Aaron stood there, shirt already off, pants half undone so that the tight leather barely clung to his slender hips.
God, he was so gorgeous. It hit him like a sledgehammer every time he saw him after even the slightest separation. For a moment, all Brad could do was stop and stare, which was so ridiculous because it wasn’t like he had never seen a beautiful young man before. This industry was full of them.
But none of them were Aaron. None of them had that sharp, restless intelligence snapping in their eyes. None of them made Brad feel strange flutters in his stomach every time they deigned to smile. None of them had a biting, utterly hilarious sense of humor which Aaron did.
None of them were Aaron, and that was really all that it came down to.
“Aaron,” Brad started, belatedly remembering that he had been standing and staring at the door for a reason. They needed to talk, right? Seeing Aaron falling out of his clothes had momentarily distracted Brad a little bit, but he had more willpower than to be completely taken off guard.
Aaron didn’t say a word. He just reached out, one strong hand wrapping around Brad’s tie, pulling him into the room. Their lips crashed together just seconds before the door closed, and Brad had time to dimly regret that, regret that risk, before he lost himself in the kiss.
They could talk after the kissing, right?
Only there was an odd, intense sort of energy around Aaron, crackling like static electricity through the air between them. Touching Aaron, kissing Aaron, was like trying to hold on to thunder, to water, and Brad groaned and closed his eyes and did his very best to hold on to the impossible.
“Aaron,” Brad tried again when their lips parted for half a second. His own voice was rough, his breath quick, just from the sheer fury with which Aaron had kissed him. But he still had a job to do.
Aaron took Brad’s briefcase from him, tossing it negligently aside onto the little breakfast nook table, and then he was on him all over again. Still, the young man said nothing, no words at all, and Brad found himself wishing that Aaron would at least acknowledge that Brad had spoken.
The way Aaron was touching him, it was like there was a wind blowing, a strong wind, the kind that couldn’t even be fought against. In his determination, Aaron was crowding Brad back toward the bed, his hand still locked around Brad’s tie while the other was fumbling for the zipper of Brad’s pants, tugging it down, gripping his cock in a tight, firm grip that was so filled with pleasure that it was just short of pain.
Brad could have stopped it if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t. Seeing Aaron this filled with desire, and seeing how almost crazed he was with it, how was he supposed to resist?
The answer was, he didn’t. He let himself be crowded back onto the bed and reached around to grip Aaron’s ass as he fell onto it. His hands slipped into those half-open leather pants, groping him and pulling him close as they kissed again. It was so easy just to let it happen, to forget that there was anything to talk about.
Brad’s pants were off, and Aaron’s hand was still locked on Brad’s tie like he was afraid that Brad was going to try to bolt. It was the work of just a moment or two for Brad to push Aaron’s pants down around his ankles, and he knew how thoroughly he had been swept into Aaron’s hurricane of desire when he realized that he had absolutely no patience for anything else, that he had to have Aaron right then. His cock was pulsing with the force of it, the fury, the frenzy, having been successfully passed right on to him.
Just barely, he remembered to reach for his bag, where he had the condoms. What he wouldn’t give just to plunge inside of him, to feel the tightness of that firm, beautiful ass close around him, skin to skin, no barrier. But Brad was more careful than that, so he forced himself to break away and roll a condom onto his aching erection, while Aaron, clothed only in the leather pants, bunched up around his ankles, shifted forward to wrap his talented mouth around one of Brad’s nipples and suckle.
Damned if he hadn’t always been sensitive there, and Aaron knew it. It was just one more thing that was designed to drive Brad insane, but Aaron was adding fuel, pouring gasoline, onto a fire which was already raging almost out of control.
Once the condom was on, Brad sprang into action. His large hands settled on Aaron’s shoulders, feeling the heat of his bare skin, smelling the sweat that was still on him from the performance. Aaron was always aroused after performing, but this was something else entirely.
