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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Nov 12, 2013 5:33:04 GMT
The feeling in the air was wild, on edge, full of youthful feelings and all cares were thrown out the window.
There was alcohol in their systems, electricity on their fingertips, excitement flowing through their bodies and that's all that mattered right then. It was hot, far too hot for clothes, but too cold to keep their mouths and hands away from each other.Every word was slurred and every movement was a blur, but they had a successful night and this was going to be a successful finish.
God damn, he looked so great up there on stage, under those bright lights, making that crowd shout. Just remembering it sent more shivers through his body and he had to kiss that mouth quickly. He couldn't wait any longer or else he might miss the chance.
Fingers found their way into the blonde strands of his band mate's hair and tangled themselves within it, holding him in place, not wanting to let go.
They were so caught up in the moment and all Lance could bring himself to care about was how fantastically high he felt.
| [attr="class","ssslip"]  [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2013 18:15:55 GMT
Somewhere in the distance, a bass beat still pounded out into his bones; while against his chest a heartbeat throbbed.
Salem was smashed. Somewhere. Sometime after a show. Somewhere. Someone's sweaty body pressed up to his, someone's lower lip caught between his teeth. Someone's fingers tangled in his hair; while Salem's hands, blunt nails and calloused fingertips, raked along his thighs in response. He couldn't pull away, and he didn't want to.
He should have, he fucking should have, but already they were too far gone.
Lance was a beautiful bastard, and Salem was a horny bastard and here they were half-naked and still undressing. Nothing mattered but the skin against his and the spit in his mouth and the spirits in his veins.
--
Nothing mattered until he woke up. Nothing mattered until he pushed past his headache and opened his eyes past the blinding light of morning and the cramp in his neck. He arched his back, stretched.
Glanced over.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Fuck."
He was used to waking up with company, and it would be a lie to say this was the first time he'd passed out beside a bandmate, but he had always been more clothed – this was just a dubious set of circumstances. His shirt was hitched up like he'd meant to take it off but given up when he realized how complicated it was and how drunk he was, though he had no fucking pants on and he sat up to find them.
Salem wanted to throw up – whether it was the hangover or the facts that pointed to he had just fucked Lance, he wanted to find his pants and find the bathroom, before Lance woke up and they could pretend this had never happened.
Truthfully, he couldn't remember having done anything, but he couldn't actuallly remember anything past midnight.
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Nov 15, 2013 19:43:39 GMT
Morning came too fast because when the light shining in through the window hit is face, Lance groaned and turned, lifting a hand up to block it. It was painful, his head was pounding, and everything felt fuzzy.
Carefully, he sat up and ran his hand through his hair, wincing slightly, but turned quickly when he saw movement--perhaps too quickly because he almost threw up from the room rushing to catch up with his vision.
"Salem," is all he said, and it was barely above a whisper, but it was so quiet in the room that he knew his band mate would hear it.
The night before was hardly memorable, only because of all the cups he emptied, but there was a dull ache he couldn't ignore and he knew what it was and he didn't know how to handle everything. Every now and again Lance would remember snippets of the previous affair, as if the movie reel that was his memory had pieces cut out of it and what was left played on fast forward.
His hand stayed bundled up in his hair as he watched Salem attempting to put on his pants, Lance's face blank and unreadable.
"Are you okay?" The frontman forced himself to ask, unsure of what else to say or do and needing to follow up his previous comment of Salem's name.
He looked terrible, pale and heavy-eyed, Salem did.
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2013 6:32:39 GMT
Salem gritted his teeth, against the sound of his name, far too loud and strangely foreign sounding. On a tongue that probably still had the taste of him. He hissed, pressing the heel of a hand to his temple and shutting his eyes.
Partly because of the light. Partly because of Lance.
It was easier to ignore what he couldn't see, though there was no mistaking that voice.
"Yeah man." Fuckin' dandy. He was so hungover he could barely see straight, and he was pretty sure that he'd just had sex with his best friend and bandmate. He wasn't in any state to be considering things, but he didn't see how anything good could come of this. No, it was just – it was mutually awkward. He hoped. Salem opened his eyes, looked over at Lance with a sheepish attempt of a smile.
He patted the sheets, found a pair of pants tangled at the foot of the bed, was just about to wriggle into them before he realized – "Yours." he grunted, tossing them into Lance's lap.
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Nov 17, 2013 18:04:20 GMT
He would be lying if he said he wasn't even the smallest bit relieved to see that smile. Even if it was small.
Lance pulled on his pants and stood up to button them, his back facing Salem, before he walked over to the bathroom. He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled down a bottle of pain killers, grabbing a few and popping them into his mouth. He turns on the sink and shoves his mouth under the faucet, drinking straight from the source before pulling back with a soft gasp, using his hand to wipe off his mouth.
Stay classy, Lance.
"Here," he said, handing the bottle over to his friend. "You need these, I'm sure. You're bad about hangovers."
So far, neither of them mentioned what happened last night after all the drinking, but Lance couldn't get it off his mind. It was all mixed up, but he remembered enough. And according to the way Salem was acting, he did, too.
Should he mention something about it? Or should he just keep everything to himself?
To Salem, Lance probably looked as blank faced as ever, but on the inside, Lance was panicking.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 21, 2013 22:09:39 GMT
With a weary groan, Salem swung his feet over the side of the bed, snatching his jeans from the ground and slipping into them. They were stained and wrinkled, like his shirt, like Salem himself. He needed a fucking shower, but that could wait.
When Lance came back, Salem returned his attention to preening himself, to hopelessly trying to smooth out all the tangles in his hair, only looking up when Lance spoke to him.
"Thanks." He said, a little flatly, taking the bottle. He ground his teeth as he fumbled open the cap and shook a few into his palm. He swallowed them dry, where they caught with the knot already in his throat. He coughed a little, awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair some more, as if it was making any difference. He still looked like shit. He shut the bottle and tossed it onto the bedsheets, stared at it.
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Nov 21, 2013 23:36:58 GMT
The tension in the air was thick, uncomfortable, and Lance wasn't sure of what to do. He wanted to console his friend, tell him it's okay, but he didn't at the same time because to be completely honest, Lance wasn't sure if it was going to be okay or not.
He scratched the back of his neck, watching as Salem took the pills, then followed the bottle to the sheets with his gaze, watching it as it lied there. Briefly, he looked over to Salem and noticed he was doing the same thing and he wondered what he was thinking. Lance couldn't take this awkwardness, this silence.
"Hey... uh... about last night," he started, rubbing the back of his neck again as he searched for the words carefully. He didn't want to rush his sentences and he definitely didn't want to spook his friend, either. Lance was smart enough to know this was going to take some seriously delicate care.
He moved his gaze from the pill bottle to the floor, then up to Salem again, waiting for him to respond somehow. He wasn't going to assume things and press on. No, not without Salem following him the whole way there.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 27, 2013 5:00:14 GMT
Salem tried to act natural, but at times like these it was hard to remember what natural was. Maybe he was sitting too straight, or he was too still, or seemed too irritated for just a hangover - or maybe Lance didn't remember, maybe Lance didn't notice anything different this morning.
Though, someone never quite looked the same after you fucked them. It wasn't always a bad difference, but he hadn't even looked at Lance long enough to notice it yet. That would be confirming something he already knew but wished he didn't.
He tensed a bit when Lance spoke up. It was too early to be thinking at all, never mind at the speed that Salem's mind raced. Lance sounded uncomfortable as Salem felt, but he couldn't read his tone. He couldn't pin down what he felt about last night, he couldn't even decide if he meant what Salem thought he did. He might have been overthinking, but he didn't want to be over-answering.
"Crazy night." He said vaguely, nodding.
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Dec 3, 2013 10:08:53 GMT
That vagueness bothered Lance more than he would imagine it to. It felt like Salem was brushing the whole situation off and if that were the case, Lance definitely wasn't okay with that. He wasn't gong to jump to conclusions, though. No, that wasn't very smart. Even Lance was being a little bit vague, too. He wasn't being fair.
"Right... it was..." he replied, but took a few small steps forward, testing the waters between him and Salem. Lance didn't like the distance, though it wasn't like he was wanting to be all up in Salem's business, but he definitely didn't like how far away Salem was feeling at that moment. "What of it do you remember because...uh... I remember enough and I wanted to talk about it."
Yeah, there... It was out in the open, at least a little bit. And if Salem remembered enough to understand what Lance was going on about, then he'd catch on quickly enough. Lance waited a few moments to let Salem think on those words a bit before he moved on to the next little bit of what he wanted to say.
"I'm... It's okay, right? I mean... It is with me--I-I'm not saying... to go around and tell everyone, but I'm... personally okay with what happened... with us." Lance's heart was pounding in his chest from nervousness and awkwardness. He didn't know how Salem was going to react to that and it bothered him. Salem was his friend, his best friend, actually. Lance didn't want him to run away or look at him in a bad light now that they'd had sex.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2013 5:49:18 GMT
The silence should have been good for his headache, but it was weighed with something that seeped into his mind, something that he couldn't breathe out, something that sent his mind racing, flickering through blurred snapshots of the night before.
Even when Lance spoke up, Salem didn't look at him - he kept his gaze trained to the bed, he made no indication that he'd heard him. His throat felt raw, his lips were cracked. He cleared his throat a little, not quite sure how to answer.
That nothing had changed? No, everything had changed. Something was different, and if Lance had made up his mind that he was okay with things, then it was Salem's turn to make up his mind. What did he want to do now?
The easiest course of action - the easiest one for the moment - to brush it off. He lifted his head then, looked up at Lance with an easy, lopsided smile; the one that was infallibly charming. "Not the stupidest thing we've done drunk, huh?" The joke felt hollow. Vapid.
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Dec 15, 2013 6:19:23 GMT
Lance thought to himself that he was sure he'd never felt this awkward about something before, or this nervous, when it came to Salem. He felt like something suddenly changed, though he supposed that it did, but he didn't want to think so. He wanted to think that everything was fine and nothing was going to be weird... Perhaps, if Salem is okay with things, it wouldn't be weird at all. That's how those things worked, right? Both parties are okay with something and everything else is smooth sailing past that?
Well, when Salem finally smiled and looked over to Lance again, he could feel his shoulders relaxing and let out a heavy breath he didn't realize he was holding. Lance laughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, slowly feeling that relaxation creeping up on him and he was glad. "Yeah, that's true. We've done some crazy shit." He was happy Salem could give him a smile. His own smile was crooked, but sincere. "Sex isn't that crazy."
It really wasn't crazy... it could be crazy, but theirs wasn't crazy. That's not to say it wasn't good, because it was... He was glad that all of that was in his head and not out in the open. But, another question lingered on his mind that he was afraid to ask... Afraid to hear what Salem was going to say about it. He wasn't sure if he should voice it or not.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2013 0:29:37 GMT
The silenThings with Lance had always felt easy, moved in a natural progression. From when they'd first met, it had only felt natural that they grow to best friends, and it had felt so damn right to start a band together.
This step, this felt like a clumsy stumble, if anything a move backwards. Or maybe Salem wished it could be undone. But not talking about it wasn't going to undo it. Especially when Lance seemed so intent on acknowledging the elephant in the room. Salem's head still pounded, he wished Lance would shut up about it.
He tried to swallow down the memories, dissolve them in his stomach acid until there was nothing left. But they just bubbled back up like nausea, they spilled from his lips in more feeble jokes. "And you've done worse than me."
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Dec 27, 2013 14:13:15 GMT
"Worse thing?" Lance asked, almost surprised by the statement, but he nodded with a smile and another airy chuckle. "Yeah, I've done some pretty bad stuff before."
The statement had taken him from the question he was wanting to ask to the things he'd done and he forgot about it for a few moments until he forced himself to remember again. He didn't know how to ask the question, though he wanted to pretty badly. He swallowed thickly and rubbed the back of his neck again as he contemplated until he sort-of just spilled it out.
"Will you ever want to do it again?" Wow, he felt like a little bitch in love asking that question. It was stupid and he almost immediately regretted asking it. Over and over in his head he called himself stupid, though he waited for the answer. He was scared to know, but eager all the same. He told himself that even if it was a bad reaction it meant that he wouldn't be floating around in the unknown forever and ever. Even a negative answer was a confirming answer to settle him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2013 7:54:28 GMT
Salem went pale – paler – at Lance's question. He was holding his breath, and he hadn't noticed how long he'd been silent until he finally remembered to suck in a breath, let it out in a sigh more audible than he realized.
He waved a hand as if he could physically brush it off, physically brush the thought from both of their minds, brush Lance's words right out of the air.
"What, you asking me out, man?" He was trying to joke again, but there was a tension in his tone, in his clenched jaw, in the way he skipped to something else too quickly. Salem felt suffocated, felt like he had to leave. It would be uncomfortable – or perhaps it would point out how just uncomfortable he was. He stood up, made to pat his pockets. "You got a smoke?"
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Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Dec 29, 2013 13:29:54 GMT
Lance reached into this pockets and found the pack of cigarettes he was using the night before, though the box was a bit squished. The cigarettes inside were still crisp and smokable. He reached into the crumpled package and pulled one out, then handed that and a lighter over to Salem. The whole time he wasn't smiling, though he wasn't frowning either. The question he asked clearly made Salem uncomfortable and Lance was sure he took it the wrong way. He didn't mean it like that. There's no way he could tie Salem down.
"No, man... Just fuck. It was good, so..." Lance replied, then swallowed thickly. Suddenly his throat felt dry again and he wished he had himself a glass of water or perhaps a glass of whiskey to calm him down again. How could he explain himself without sounding soft? There really wasn't much of a way the longer he thought about it. "What's wrong with a fuck with someone you know is good?"
Not to mention that it would be a constant. Groupies and others he found in bars were easy grabs, but it wasn't guaranteed to be a good lay. At least with Salem he'd know it was going to be good. And he knew Salem, too. So there was that.
Fuck... He was just making up excuses, wasn't he?
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