Page 95 of Volatile

He knocked his shoulder into mine. “Not good enough.”

“So demanding.” I kissed his jaw. “Show me before we end up naked.”

“You’re not making me want to show you.” He side-eyed me coyly.

“Think about the angry sex you’ll be missing out on if you don’t.”

He huffed and hovered his pencil over the screen. “The first one is a movie we’ve always loved, and I thought it would be hot.” A click of the screen, and he brought up a sketched latex version of the costume from The Crow.

I whistled. “God damn. And I thought the Joker was bad.”

“Do you like it?” Aspen flipped another page, moving to the pieces he’d bought for it. The shirt was more ripped, and latex pants replaced the leather. Tight to show every inch of him off. More probably than any skirt. I bet his dick print would be visible. The trench coat would be worn for his opener and then stripped off. As well as the shirt. Leaving him with his guitar like the iconic shirtless photos.

Even with his hair red, I could envision him as Erik.

“It’s perfect. You would do so well.” I glanced between him and the screen. “Do you even need another option?”

“I want you to pick, not only have one.”

“Fair enough. What’s the next?”

He pulled up the next, and I instantly knew what it was. It was a, for lack of a better word, sexualized version of The Boondock Saints. He stared, waiting for my reaction.

“That’s pretty close to home. Do you want art to mimic life so closely?” I put a hand over my mouth.

“I don’t know. It feels almost like we’re taking it back. We will always carry our heritage and scars.”

“Do I get to be Connor if you’re Murphy?”

He laughed, laying his head on my shoulder. “Wouldn’t Kingsley be Connor? He’s my brother.”

I waved him off. “No way could he pull it off.”

“You’re right.” Aspen’s smile turned soft. “He doesn’t remember any of it.”

“So you have to wait to do Boondocks until I can get a costume.”

He laughed but agreed. “I don’t know when we’ll even play again.”

“Did they scrap the spring tour they were talking about?” I asked, taking the pencil out of his hand to push it and the iPad away.

“It’s looking like they will. Nothing was set in stone to add more dates, and it’s easier when they’re unsure how it will play.”

I exhaled a long breath. “What do you want to do?”

“I haven’t asked you where you’re at. Does it matter where I’m at if you don’t want anyone to know you sleep with men?” Aspen said carefully, and I could tell he was choosing his words.

“It’s better than being homophobic, but I haven’t focused on it or gone over my feelings because I knew you didn’t want to say anything.” It was the truth. It wasn’t a possibility.

“Since we will be interacting with the hosts, and it might come up, you can say it if you want to. I don’t want you to keep taking this or anyone to think that about you.”

“Are you sure?” I cupped his cheek, turning his face into me.

“I’m sure.”

* * *

I still wasn’t sure what I’d do when we showed up at the venue. Levi coached me the entire car ride over, including giving me flashcards to study on my own. We’d put out a statement denying Arthur’s story and saying the altercation happened because Arthur got nasty with Aspen, but that since neither party had pressed charges, we thought it was distasteful for Arthur to try and change the narrative months later.

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