Author's Note: Right, so here's another chapter! I've been playing around with this and I think I've got an idea of where this can go (I'm a bit weird and anal, and I have to get at least some form of overarching plot all planned out before I can commit to a story). Would really appreciate your reviews and suggestions as we go along though!
Anyway- hope you guys enjoy this and thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter; I really appreciate it :)
I wake up to the feeling of Cam's morning erection pressed firmly against the curve of my ass.
My body responds almost immediately, and I can feel my own cock twitch in response to the warmth of Cam's body against mine, his front moulded against my back, one of his arms slung over my body and holding me to him. Despite the tugging pain of regret in my chest, I allow myself the indulgence of placing a kiss on the arm that is draped across me, breathing in the sweet scent of his skin, tinged with the aftermath of the night before.
I close my eyes, letting the images of last night flash behind my closed eyelids. I can practically taste Cam again, his whisky-tainted mouth somehow still sweet, feeling the silkiness of his skin against mine. Even in his alcohol-fuelled state, Cam was a vision, gorgeous in the way he draped his body over mine, burying himself into me and driving himself to orgasm. I can picture his face so clearly; the way his breath hitched for just a moment, before he fell to pieces, eyes clenched closed and head thrown back with the sexiest, guttural moan I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
At this moment, I want nothing more than to roll over and wake him up with a slow, deep kiss, but I know that that's just wading into dangerous territory. I shouldn't even really be here right now, and before I have the chance to talk myself back out of it, I start to carefully manoeuvre out of his grasp.
Suddenly, I feel his grip tighten around my waist.
"Where you going?" he mutters, pressing his face into the back of my shoulder. "Stay here."
His voice is still thick with sleepiness, and I can feel him snuffling into my shoulder, only just awake. His arms are wrapped around me in a tight hug, leaving me no opportunity to slip away quietly. I'm not entirely sure if he's just fallen straight back to sleep, but as I lie there in silence contemplating how I should slip away, he speaks again.
"Luke…stay here. Where do you think you're going anyway?" he murmurs dozily, snuggling into me even more.
He could ask me to jump off a cliff and I would; I don't know how to deny the requests of this skinny, leggy blond. I let myself sink back into the pillows, shifting my position a little to allow myself to see his face and my breath is taken aback by his simple beauty. He's almost angelic, light blond lashes fanning out against the top of his cheeks, face flushed and rosy. His dreads spread out on the pillow behind him, just brushing the tops of his shoulders. I reach out a hand to brush one of the cables from his face. I miss his long, golden hair, which he got rid of a few months ago in favour of these dreadlocks. He's still utterly gorgeous, but with that sheet of straight, golden silk falling around him, he was just so damn pretty; so beautiful. Probably too pretty for his liking, which is why he turned up at practice with his newly dreadlocked hair without having warned me of his transformation. I remember being speechless when I saw him, struck by how goddamn gorgeous he still was though regretting having missed out on one last chance to run my fingers through those silken tresses.
I let the back of my hand skim his cheek as I brush the dreadlocks away from his face, and he stirs a little, the corners of his lips curling up into a little smile.
"What are you doing?" he murmurs gently, eyes still closed.
"Getting your dreads out of your face," I reply softly, still unable to tear my eyes away from the vision that is Cameron.
I pause, letting my eyes trace the line of his jaw before quietly murmuring, "I miss your hair."
He finally cracks open his eyes and looks up at me with those grey-blue jewels. He flashes me a sleepy grin, before reaching a hand up and rubbing my cheek affectionately.
"Still on about that? It's been months now, Luke," he chuckles.
"I know, but still…I miss them."
He rolls his eyes a little, though smiling softly. "Right, I see… Well, good morning, you."
He reaches up for a kiss, his lips meeting mine in a chaste brushing of lips. Ever shy, he always hated kissing me first thing in the morning, worrying that his morning breath might repulse me. That was never the case, though- I couldn't have cared less, just wanting to feel his lips on mine, but I never could convince him. It's the same right now, and though it's been a while since I've had the privilege of waking up next to Cameron, I know that his apparent tentativeness isn't because he doesn't want to but because he's too shy. I don't push the matter though, knowing that if I do he'll give in and there's no way that I'm going to be able to resist letting things go too far. Like last night did.
I smile back a 'Good morning', before sitting upright and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I pick up my boxers, which are crumpled in a puddle by the bed, and tug them over my hips before padding into the bathroom to relieve myself. When I emerge from the bathroom, I can just make out the faint smell of coffee. Cam is standing by the mini-bar, shaking out freeze-dried granules of instant coffee into a mug. I wrinkle up my nose in disdain.
"You're not going to make me drink that shit," I state firmly, and Cam glances back at me over his shoulder.
"If I don't get some form of coffee in me right now, I think I might keel over," he mutters, shaking out the granules in frustration, giving them a quick stir and wincing as he takes a sip. His face briefly contorts in disgust, but he presses on, dipping his head down for another sip.
"You did drink a lot last night," I say casually, pulling on my clothes and ignoring the pointed look that I know Cameron has just thrown my way.
"Going so soon?" he asks, staying right where he is by the mini-bar but glancing over at me again.
"Yeah. Stuff to do, y'know?" I shrug, trying to remain cool and not wanting to let myself waver.
Cam chuckles, taking another swig of his cheap, hotel-room coffee. "Yeah, stuff to do with me. I know we have practice soon and there's that interview before the show tonight; we can go together."
There's a look in his eyes that clearly reads 'Stay', but I fight my natural instinct to listen to Cam, and ignore it. I mutter my apologies and tell him that I'll see him at practice in a couple of hours. I let the door to his room close behind me before pausing and leaning back against it, taking in a deep breath. Fuck, I need a smoke. I quickly pat the pockets of my jacket and curse upon finding them empty, so I head out of the hotel and across the road to pick up a pack of smokes. I take my time, even though I know I must look an un-showered mess in last night's clothes, but I don't care; I need to clear my head. So I loiter on the pavement outside the hotel, chain-smoking until I feel as though I've managed to push the memories of last night out of my head. Or at least, as many of them as I can. I know I'll never really be able to erase Cam from my memory, and I know that there's the danger that whenever I close my eyes, I'll see his light, denim-blue orbs staring back at me, delicately fluttering closed as he crumples in ecstasy.
I snuff out my last cigarette and toss it aside, turning to head back into the hotel and back to my room to take a much-needed shower. Time has flown by and I know I need to get myself together, as we need to have a run through for tonight's show. At least that's something I can look forward to. We're only a few days into our tour but I don't think I'll ever be able to tire of it. Getting on stage, the warmth of the stage lights bearing down on me, being able to feel the energy radiating off the crowd…I love every bit of it. And being able to do it all with my best friend next to me just makes it all the better. For as long as I can remember, it's been me and Cam against the world. Well, that's what we thought anyway. When you're still a teenager and raring to give the finger to the world and all involved, it feels that way. Now I realise that we aren't against the world, but it's me and Cam trying to take it on together. Even after the many drummers and keyboardists that have come and gone, I've never had a doubt in my mind that we'd go somewhere with this band. It's been me and Cam from the get-go, with trusty Mick joining us maybe a nano-second later. To think that we've been doing this since we were just twenty years old, and now, five years later, we're finally making it. Finally. From garage to tour-bus.
I shimmy on a pair of slim-cut dark jeans and yank on a rather form-fitting black t-shirt. I quickly towel off as much of the moisture from my hair as I can and survey myself critically in the mirror. God, I did not get enough sleep last night. I look a little sallow, the faint darkness under my sharp, green eyes emphasising my need for a couple more hours of shut-eye. I try to combat the evident lack of sleep with a little eyeliner, though I'm not sure how much it helps. There isn't much else I can do, so I tug a purple knitted beanie over my dark curls, brushing my hair away from my shoulders and heading out the door. As I reach the lobby, I see Burton's familiar form, tall and lanky, his poker-straight brown hair falling midway down his back.
"Burton!" I call, and he pauses, turning to glance at me over his shoulder.
I catch up with him and he gives me a cheerful smile and a nod, and we walk the couple of blocks to the venue together. I dig into my jeans pocket and pull out my cigarettes, holding them out to Burton, who declines.
"Now, now- you now I've quit," he chides amiably.
"Ah, shit- sorry, I forgot," I apologise in a mutter, balancing the thin white stick of nicotine between my lips as I fumble with my lighter.
"S'alright. You get Cam to bed alright last night?"
I inhale sharply in surprise, choking and spluttering at the sudden intake of smoke that fills my lungs. Burton flashes me a questioning look and I splutter, completely struck by his genuinely innocent question.
"Uh, yeah. Fine," I stammer rather unconvincingly.
Burton surveys me quietly for a moment and I try to avoid meeting his eyes, puffing on my cigarette to calm my nerves and pretending to focus ahead of me.
"Oh, Lucas…" he sighs, shaking his head a little and looking away from me. "I thought you said all that was over…"
"It was. Well, it was meant to be. It is. It isn't going to happen again- I mean, I can't let it," I mutter.
"Come on, man. You two can't keep doing this to each other; it's just insane. How long has it been? What…five years? Longer? You're going to totally fuck all this up, and I don't just mean with you two. I don't know how we're going to handle the blow if our frontman and guitarist won't speak to each other."
"It won't ever get to that, I swear- Cam and I always work stuff out. He's my best friend, Burton- we're never going to walk away from that," I say insistently, wishing I truly believed every word I was saying.
"I really hope so, Luke- we're just getting off the ground. We all need this, and for everything to happen, we need you and Cam."
I knew that what Burton was saying was true, and I really hoped that whatever happens between me and Cam, we can still keep going on a professional level at least. Though I can't imagine going through life without my best friend there to have my back, to stand by me the way that he always does, to laugh at my jokes and tell me I'm being an idiot when I need to hear it. You don't give up on a lifetime of friendship just because love gets in the way. Even if it is pretty much one and the same.
AN2: So, what did you guys think? Please do leave a review on your way out ;)