Page 22 of Sycopation
Great. More Zavier stories. Ray pushed himself off the couch and took the upper bunk across from the one Mish had claimed. Not that Zavier told many stories, but Ray was on Zav overload. That voice, those arms, the way his shoulders and back rippled without a shirt.
This tour was going to behell.
Zavier’s chuckle burned into Ray’s soul, and despite wanting to remain annoyed, he leaned against the berths and listened.
“You have to understand that a symphony is about a hundred musicians, plus instruments, plus a crew, plus support staff, plus press. It’s nothing like what we’re doing.”
Ray couldn’t help himself. “Shit, how do you even move that many people around?”
The bus rumbled beneath them. Oh. They’d be heading out soon. He reclaimed the spot by Dom, because stumbling when the bus lurched forward would be fucking embarrassing, and that was far worse than being turned on by sitting too close to Zavier.
Zavier leaned back against the leather cushions. “Mostly the support staff did the heavy lifting, along with the host cities. We also spent days in one place, and traveled by bus between close locations, and by plane if the city was farther away.”
“So, more like a vacation than living on the road.” Dom adjusted his glasses and looked longingly at the coffeepot. “How much you want to bet that thing’s on the fritz?”
“It was a lot like a vacation.” Zavier rose and headed toward the coffeemaker. Just then, the bus lurched, but goddamn him, he didn’t even break his stride, let alone stumble.
Ray hated that man. He also wanted him.
He closed his eyes as the bus pulled out of the lot onto the road. Truth was, he didn’t hate Zav. He was growing to like the bastard, and he certainly respected his talent and work ethic. No complaints, no issues, just focus and deference as they perfected their songs.
“This isn’t bad coffee.” Zavier’s voice was soft over the ever-present whine of the engine. He held open a bag of some fancy-label grind and sniffed it.
“Coffee’s never bad,” Mish said. “Maker is usually a piece of shit, though.”
“Let’s see.” Zavier set about making a pot. He found a case of water and used the bottled stuff, and soon the pot was gurgling away. “So far, so good.”
Dom rooted in his backpack. “It’s only day one.” He pulled out a book and started reading.
Zavier chuckled. “I have a way with machines.”
“You have a way with everything,” Ray muttered.
No reply, just a knowing twist of the lips, and Zavier reclaimed his seat next to Ray. Mish played with her phone.
Once again, Ray wished Zavier’s eyes weren’t that blue, because he ended up staring into them too long.
“What will you do?” Zavier’s voice curled into Ray’s belly and ignited lust and heat.
If he could, he’d do Zav. Any way he wanted. Such a bad idea. “Probably take a nap.”
Maybe he could jack off quietly. He’d done that before on tour. Pretty sure they’d all masturbated on the bus, even Mish. Something about the energy of touring and the throbbing rumble beneath them.
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Dom peered at him over the edge of his glasses. Made him look like the somewhat stuffy bookworm he really was.
Ray’s cheeks heated. Yeah, maybe he was obvious, but he didn’t need his best friend pointing that out.
Zavier raised an eyebrow. “As I recall, you’re the kid, kid.”
“Two years younger than you isn’t that much,” Dom said.
“Not anymore, no,”
“Get off my lawn,” Mish muttered, and they all laughed, even Zavier.
With the tension broken, the bus picking up speed, and the coffee brewing, Ray made good on his words. He crawled into a berth and closed his eyes. He hadn’t planned on sleeping, but histhoughts twisted and jumbled around Zavier’s smile, and then slid into nothingness.
Travelingthis way wasn’t bad. Zavier propped his feet up on the leather couch and watched the world go by. They were heading to Detroit for their next show and would arrive sometime tomorrow. He wasn’t sure how the whole driver thing worked. Shifts, he guessed. Like driving across country with friends. There certainly was more than one driver for the two buses—this one and the crew bus.
