Part the Fourteenth

During the gig, Thom watched Jonny even more closely than he usually did. He seemed calmer, more subdued than normal – although Ed was clearly mopping up any enthusiasm overspill – and Thom noticed that he was moving a little awkwardly, some of his natural grace lost. Not that it affected his playing at all, but Jonny was generally quite good at playing the role of 'invincible rock god' on stage, and tonight he seemed... vulnerable.

When they retired to a nearby bar afterwards, Thom noticed that Jonny had made himself scarce. He, Colin and Phil drew straws for who'd have to share the hotel room with Ed – because no one ever wanted to, since Ed talked in his sleep and was prone to violent night terrors – and Thom could almost have danced when Colin picked the short straw and Phil, with a meaningful glance at Thom, said he would share with their tour manager, leaving Thom to room with Jonny.

He didn't stay to get as drunk as he might normally have done. Colin wasn't being outwardly hostile, but his manner was cool enough for Thom to know that he wouldn't forget his grievances; so it was that not long after midnight, on his fourth attempt, Thom finally managed to get his key into the lock of his hotel room door and let himself through into the darkened room beyond. The only light came from the bathroom, where the shaving lamp over the mirror had been left on, and by this Thom could see the shape under the covers of the bed nearest the window, dark hair scattered over the crisp white pillow, apparently asleep.

He toed off his shoes and slid out of his jacket, tried and failed to locate a hanger on which to put it, and instead left it draped over the edge of the desk chair. He helped himself to a pack of the complimentary shortbread biscuits in a bowl next to the kettle, drank three glasses of water, and was feeling a little more sober by the time he finally kicked off his jeans and slid into bed, without bothering to shower or properly undress. He lay there under the sheets in the dark, reliving the feeling of lips and tongue on him, and grew frustratingly hard as he listened to Jonny's irregular breathing from the other bed.

“I know you're not asleep, Jon,” he said aloud. “You're as bad at pretending to be asleep as you are at lying.”

“'M 'sleep,” Jonny mumbled. Thom heard the creak and groan of mattress springs as the other man shifted in bed, and then there was a burst of light as the bedside lamp flicked on. Jonny was blinking at him, and something twisted painfully in the pit of Thom's stomach. His hair was ruffled and messy on one side where he'd apparently showered and gone to bed with it still damp, and he was wearing one of those stupid oversized Astroboy sweaters that looked as though he'd borrowed it from Ed, the yellow fabric hanging in drapes off his thin frame and the sleeves almost obscuring his hands as he raised one to rub his palm over his face. He was clearly exhausted, and Thom felt guilty for the thrilling buzz of energy coursing through his own body. “What do you want?”

Thom propped himself up on his elbows and gave Jonny a proper look. The boy was just too appealing for his own good, that was the problem; if he didn't care about their friendship he'd have already been fucking Jonny into the mattress, and hang Colin's consequences. “Nothing... just, you know. I was worried about you. Didn't see you at the bar earlier with everyone else.”

“I was tired,” Jonny said defensively, flopping back down onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling. “Besides, I've seen Ed and Phil doing drunken karaoke enough times over the years to know that I'd rather stay away.” He managed a very forced laugh, and then rolled onto his side to gaze over at Thom. “Look... about today...”

“It was nothing, I get it,” Thom said shortly. “A stupid little mistake. And it won't happen again.”

“That wasn't what I was going to say,” Jonny said quietly. “It... it wasn't a mistake, was it? We both knew what we were doing. And... it wasn't nothing. It meant a lot. I hope.”

“It did to me,” Thom snapped. “But what about Colin? He's hovering around like a fucking vulture waiting to peck out my eyes for so much as laying a finger on you. I can't deal with that. And... you know, it's fucked up. The two of you are fucked up. I know you told me Colin wasn't your keeper -”

“He isn't!”

“- and yeah, you were right. He's not your keeper. He's your owner.”

Jonny fell silent. When Thom finally summoned up the courage to look over at him, he could see the tears glistening on the other boy's cheeks in the lamplight, and Jonny's voice was wavering almost out of control when he next spoke. “You won't understand, Thom – I don't expect you to, and I'm not asking for that – but I owe Colin more than I could ever owe you.”

“And that makes it OK for him to control your entire life? To humiliate you and beat you into submission whenever he feels like it?”

He couldn't miss the way Jonny's fists clenched tightly on top of the sheets. “He doesn't control my entire life. I'm still my own person, Thom. And as for the other things... he does those because I asked him to.”

“You... what?”

“I know in your head you're trying to paint Colin as some kind of monster, who gets off on that sort of thing, but you're wrong. It's never been about sex or anything like that. It's not just that he likes to be in control... he needs to be. And please don't question that; it's just Colin, it's just how he is. If he beats me, or makes me wear women's underwear, or ties me up... it's because he knows what I want, and he's never been able to refuse me that.”

Thom's mouth was dry, and he felt as though his brain was working at half its normal pace. “So he'd never... he'd never make you do something you didn't want...?”

Jonny's expression was as cold as ice. “Colin would never force anyone.”

And Colin had said as much, so Thom believed him.

“Why is he so angry about you and me, then?” he asked. “Shouldn't he be happy for you? I mean, it's not like I'm going to suddenly steal you away...”

Jonny let out a short laugh. “That's exactly what he's afraid of, I think. Perhaps that's why he invited you to join the Club in the first place, to work out whether or not you were a threat. And he's obviously decided that you are – you're really the only person I've been close to for anywhere near as long as him. But...” He gave Thom a shy sideways glance, and started to push the covers down over his legs. “Colin doesn't have eyes everywhere. What he doesn't know... it can't hurt him. Or you. You know, you don't have anything to be scared of, with him. I'm the one he'll punish, not you.”

Thom moved to the edge of his bed, swinging his feet over the side. “I'm done with feeling guilty, though. I don't want him to hurt you because of me... it isn't fair.”

Jonny's laugh was genuine this time. “Fair doesn't even come into it, Thom. He won't hurt someone unless they like it... and it's the best possible kind of pain. I promise. Come here.”

Jonny's words sent a bolt of blind lust straight to Thom's cock, and he almost moaned out loud. Whether it had been calculated or not, the effect was the same; his pulse was racing, the sound of the blood rushing in his ears almost deafening him, and he finally slipped out from beneath his duvet and moved over to sit on the edge of Jonny's bed. The desire was almost a physical ache; he wondered how any pathetic imitation of the boy before him could ever have been enough to satisfy. The damp waves of Jonny's hair, spread on the white cotton, caught the low light; his skin, which had always seemed so pale of late, was warmed and coloured by the gentle glow. He and Colin had the same eyes: an almost wholly unremarkable brown until you looked closer and saw the green and gold flecks captured in the darkness. Thom knew he'd been right when he told Jonny he was beautiful. “You're beautiful,” he said, just to see the blush that crept into Jonny's cheeks and hooded his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just...” Jonny took hold of his wrist, used it to place Thom's hand on his hip, the sharp arch of which Thom could feel through the thick material. “Go slowly.”

And slowly he did.

He eased himself into the bed, shedding his t-shirt and boxers on the floor as he did so, and moved to straddle Jonny's legs, resting both his hands on the knife-edge hips and pushing Jonny down into the mattress. Jonny hissed and winced a little, the evidence of Colin's discipline from two nights ago making itself known, but he didn't pull away or tell Thom to stop, and Thom was glad for he wasn't sure he could have done even if Jonny had asked. The lace on the stay-ups tickled his sides as he lowered his body atop Jonny's and started to push the sweater up to the other boy's waist, pressing kisses to hot skin as it was gradually revealed while carefully avoiding the semi-erect cock that nudged his throat as he used his tongue to taste the neat line of hair that ran from Jonny's navel to his groin. The nylon felt slippery and strange against his calves as he hooked his legs around Jonny's, pushing the sweater higher to kiss the valleys and ridges of harshly delineated ribs; Jonny never looked this skinny when he was fully clothed, and sometimes Thom forgot how young and fragile his bandmate still was.

“Are you OK?” he asked, as his hips fitted neatly into the hollows beneath Jonny's and his cock pressed up between Jonny's legs.

“'M great. You're great,” Jonny murmured, lips curving into a lazy smile as Thom licked one flat nipple. “Oh.” Thom had gripped the hardening nub of flesh and pinched as roughly as he dared, and Jonny's body jackknifed beneath his, almost dislodging him. He repeated the action on the other nipple, enjoying the muffled curse that slipped from Jonny's mouth and the way his cock jumped between their stomachs, and then sat back a bit to tug the cumbersome sweater over Jonny's head and drop it to the floor, leaving the boy's hair mussed and sticking out at angles.

If he had his way, no one would tell Jonny he was ugly ever again.

He draped his body back over Jonny's, relishing in the full contact of skin against skin, and left a line of bites up the sweeping collarbones, just hard enough to leave marks. Jonny wriggled, his hands sliding up Thom's back until Thom caught his wrists and mashed them into the pillow on either side of his head, using them for leverage as he lifted his hips and his cock slid backwards and forwards between Jonny's thighs, its passage eased only by precome and sweat. Jonny locked his ankles together in the small of Thom's back, his heels digging into Thom's flesh as they both forgot their agreement to go slowly; the action spurred Thom to move faster, feeling the flex and resistance of the tendons in Jonny's wrists as he held them down, and he muffled his cry in the other boy's neck as he came over Jonny's arse and thighs and the mattress beneath them, his hips continuing to move of their own accord until Jonny stiffened and gasped and Thom felt the warmth spill between their bellies, the sensation of skin sliding against slickened skin almost too much to bear. He rested his head on Jonny's shoulder as their heartbeats subsided together, and could feel from the tremor of the body under his that Jonny was crying again, however hard he tried to hide it.