Page 91 of Sycopation
So he watched, still heavy with his own waking, as Ray moved from sleep into wakefulness, then finally opened his lovely eyes. His smile was like gold, as was his sleep-rough voice. “Hey.”
“Good morning.” Now Zavier did reach out and touch Ray’s cheek, tracing the lines of that smile.
“Wake long?” Happy muttered words. Ray moved closer to him.
“No. Not too long.”
“Mmm.” Didn’t take long for Ray to curl up around him, or for Ray to ghost kisses over his shoulder. There were better places for those lips to be, though. He tipped Ray’s chin up, and claimed his mouth.
Oh, that sweet moan in the back of Ray’s throat. Zavier deepened the kiss, and lingered until Ray was pressed hard against him and trembling with need.
When he relented, Ray was breathless. “And here I was gonna go lower.”
He did love Ray’s mouth on his cock, but being on tour made Zavier hyper-aware of Ray’s throat and voice. How sensitive it was to overuse, or to a cold, or deep-throating a cock. “As soon as we’re off tour, I’m going to face-fuck you properly.” He kissed Ray’s neck.
Ray shuddered, but the stillness after that felt wrong. Zavier pulled back.
A little line between Ray’s brows, and that inward turn. He wasn’t frowning, but concern had stolen Ray’s smile. He met Zavier’s gaze. “Zav, what are we doing?”
Pinpricks—the bad, cold kind—traced down Zavier’s legs. Oh god, no. Not this conversation.
“We’re waking up next to each other in bed.” He tried to keep his voice soft.We were enjoying ourselves. Can’t we just enjoy ourselves?
Ray opened up space between them and propped his head up on his hand. “I mean—overall. What are we doing?”
Breaking up, because that was how these conversations always ended, with his partner wanting more than Zavier couldever give. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “What do you mean?”
“Wanting to face-fuck me after the tour is over implies you’re gonna stick around. All the plans you have for me later. Yeah, once this tour is over, you’ll be with the band, but seems like you think we’ll still be doing—whatever the hell this is that we’re doing.”
Zavier swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I like being in the band. I want to hear the rest of ‘Dare to Be’ and all the other music you see, want to add my beat to your songs. Play with Dom and Mish. Make something together.” He paused “And us? I’m...happy. You’re happy. I don’t see why we wouldn’t just—keep doing what we’re doing.”
Did this have to have a label? Why couldn’t they just be friends? Bed partners? Dominant and submissive. He rubbed his face.Shit. He wasn’t ready for things to end.
Ray said nothing for a long time, and Zavier studied the texture of the hotel ceiling.
Finally, Ray shifted, rocking the mattress slightly. “Zavier.” His voice was so tender. “Can I ask you something personal?”
Not the normal question he got in this situation. He risked turning his head and looking into those eyes. “Sure.” He owed Ray that, at least.
“Did someone hurt you?”
“What?” He sat up slowly, and took a better look at Ray. There was so much worry in his face, and Zavier didn’t know what to make of it, because what lay there wasn’t disappointment or sadness. “No. What do you mean?”
“I mean, did someone break your heart? Use you or—” He waved his free hand. “I just want to understand.”
“No.” If anything, Zavier had been the one to break hearts and use people—not intentionally. “What exactly do you want tounderstand?” Because suddenly it felt like they were having two different conversations.
Ray scooted himself up to sitting, and leaned back against the headboard. “I know you said, when we started fucking, not to expect romance or a long-term commitment or anything like that.”
Zavier nodded, though part of him cringed at the wordswhen we started fucking. Yes, that was what they’d been doing, but it sounded so—cold. And the part about long-term a little foolish. He’d never managed more than a few months with any given partner, unless they were people he occasionally ran into at clubs. But that wasn’t a relationship.
“Seems like we’re beyond ‘no strings’ now, especially if you’re talking about the future.”
He had been, hadn’t he? “It’s—we’re friends.” He wasn’t sure what they’d been when they’d started, other than bandmates. “I enjoy your company. I think you like mine, so I don’t see why anything would have to change when the tour’s over.”
Ray chewed his lip. “So, this is still friends with benefits? With kink on top?” His brow remained furrowed.
“Yeah.” Was that so wrong? Why was that always so wrong?
