After a month without seeing my friends, having Jordan around was a breath of fresh air. I had missed hanging out with him, the laughter, the goofing around, the endless jokes. I had missed the ease of talking freely, without restraint, about anything and everything. He wasn’t Rob, but he was still my best friend, and his presence made Rob’s absence a little easier to bear.
As soon as he arrived in New York, time seemed to speed up. We had planned to leave for Dublin just after Jimmy’s birthday. It was Saturday, and our flight was on Tuesday. Jimmy had invited over a hundred people, hiring a catering team for the party. By eight o’clock, guests began arriving in twos and fours. Soon the party was in full swing, and the kitchen had descended into chaos, the catering staff, late and clearly overworked, struggled to keep up.
Jordan and I jumped in to help. I was assembling melon, mozzarella, and prosciutto skewers when he walked up to me. Uncharacteristically, he just stared at me for a moment without saying a word, as if waiting for me to break the quiet.
I turned my head to look at him and chuckled,
"Fucking say what you gotta say!"
Still, he didn’t speak, just kept staring.
“What?” I pressed.
He shook his head. “You knew he’d be here tonight, didn’t you?”
I understood instantly that he meant Damien, and a jolt of nerves ran through me. I stared at him for a beat before returning to my task.
“I knew who would be here?” I asked, smirking.
“Don’t play dumb. Did you?” he asked again, irritation creeping in.
“I figured as much,” I admitted. “Why? Is he here?”
“Yeah. Just walked in with some guy… I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but… don’t!” he said, genuinely worried.
I looked up at him again and said reassuringly,
I looked up at him, offering a reassuring smile. “Look, if he’s here, that means he still hasn’t got the message. I just need to… talk to him,” I explained.
He frowned. “For fuck’s sake. What’s with all the drama? Isn’t being gay supposed to make things easier? How many times do you have to flush to get rid of him?”
I laughed. “Hopefully this is the last time. Don’t worry, I know who I want to be with, and it’s not him. Just… make sure I don’t end up alone with him for too long,” I said with a chuckle.
“Jesus Christ. I’m only one man!” he exclaimed, turning to peer into the living room. “I don’t know the guy he’s with, but if he’s fucking him, he’s doing a terrible job,” he joked.
I assembled one last skewer and handed him the tray, telling him to make himself useful instead of talking shit. He went back into the living room while I stayed in the kitchen, hoping to hide long enough to figure out the best way to handle the situation.
“Seems like we’ve got quite a few friends in common,” I heard only a moment later.
“Have we?” I asked, not even turning my head.
He walked up as I started arranging appetizers on an empty tray.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
“I’ve got it,” I said, finally looking up at him.
He smiled, then turned to the guy beside him and introduced him.
“This is Josh.”
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, wondering if he was the guy he had told me he was with, but honestly… I didn’t really care. But if they were dating, I thought, they were a good match.
“Nice to meet you,” I said simply.
“Hey, you too,” Josh said warmly, then added, “So, you’re the guy? Then, he leaned in a little. “He’s told me a lot about you.”
I glanced at Damien and wondered what he’d told him. He suddenly seemed very interested in the countertop.
“Not that much,” he said with a small laugh.
“I guess I should be thanking you,” Josh continued. “He was pretty miserable because of you.”
“Shut up!” Damien said.
Josh laughed, grabbed a couple of appetizers, patted Damien on the shoulder, and headed out of the kitchen.
Damien watched him go, then gave me a shy smile.
“I wasn’t that miserable.”
I kept working, arranging skewers. “You really have to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Showing up wherever you know I’ll be,” I said, finally looking up.
He shrugged, a small, unbothered smile on his face.
“We didn’t get a chance to talk the other day.”
“I thought I’d made myself clear.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed an appetizer, brought it to his mouth, and rested a hand loosely on the table.
“Jordan keeps glaring at me. Is he gonna kick my ass? Should I be worried?”
I chuckled. “He might. I take no responsibility for Jordan’s actions. He’s unpredictable.”
“Alright,” he laughed, “I’d better watch my back.”
I nodded.
“So… how come he’s here, but Rob isn’t?” he asked, keeping his tone casual but going straight to the point.
“He’s got other commitments,” I said.
He picked at another appetizer, then hesitated before asking, “Do you wanna tell me what happened between the two of you?”
“Why do you assume something happened?” I countered.
“You’ve been here for quite a while without him, haven’t you?”
“So?” I turned my head, locking eyes with him. “We’re not joined at the hip.”
He held my gaze. “Aren’t you?” he asked doubtfully.
“I had a lot of editing to do for the record,” I replied.
His eyes narrowed. “Since when do you do the editing alone?”
I stayed silent, so he leaned in, teasing, “Did he cheat on you?”
I snorted. “No… not that I know of.”
"Then what?" he insisted.
I moved the tray I had finished filling to the side of the table. A girl from the catering staff immediately grabbed it and rushed out of the kitchen to serve the guests.
"It's just…," I began saying as I started placing ready-to-heat appetizers on an empty tray. "he's very famous. And that makes things a bit complicated."
He gave a slight nod and pushed his lips together,
"Doesn't he enjoy it? He seems to handle fame pretty well."
"Yeah, he seems to… But he doesn't," I explained.
"He's full of contradictions," he responded.
I shook my head slightly.
"Don't act like you know him."
He didn't answer and added after a short moment, obviously trying to change the subject,
"I've watched the 'One love Manchester' concert from June, after the attack. How was it?"
I smiled softly, seizing the chance to switch to music and to stop talking about Rob. I started talking about the benefit concert that had taken place in response to the bombing after Ariana Grande's concert in Manchester.
"It was great. It was a good way to come together and say 'Fuck you, terrorism.' When they asked if we wanted to be a part of it, we knew we had to turn up for it. The atmosphere backstage was so strange though. But the crowd in Manchester was just perfect."
"Yeah, it was an amazing thing to put together. Everyone looked so emotional. … Another great 'Fix You' moment by the way," he smiled.
"I know. This song works on so many levels."
He grinned,
"And sharing the stage with Liam Gallagher, you absolutely nailed the guitar solo."
I grinned back,
"Thanks. Again, we got to play with one of our heroes from when we were growing up. He's a true Manchester legend!"
"Yeah, he is." he agreed. "Regardless of his attitude."
"He was alright. He was great actually. Just a shame Noel didn't turn up. He was a surprise guest. Everyone in the audience was in shock. They arranged a private jet to fly Liam out to the concert 'cause he first had to play a gig in Germany at the Rock am Ring."
"Yeah, I heard him say in an interview that he would have definitely got back for it, no matter where he would have been in the world."
"Yeah. He really wanted to be a part of it. So, he was rehearsing 'Live Forever' with his band, and I dunno, for some reason, he decided he wanted the performance to be about the words and the melody and what the song was all about. He just wanted to sing it, and have the people sing it back, you know, just sing it together. So he was like, 'oh fuck, I'll sack the band, would you just play the guitar? 'cause you know, you're alright, and it's all about coming together this gig … and you and I are gonna live forever' and stuff like that".
"Fuck, that's awesome."
"I know. Honest, 'Live Forever' was like, one of our favourite songs growing up. We used to cover it all the time when we started the band. I can play it with my eyes closed, and so can Rob. So, we said yes right away. I mean, he's quick to criticize, but he seemed to like us enough, that night anyway," I chuckled.
"It was a really good live performance of the song."
"I don't know. I didn't read what people thought of it. I'd rather not."
"I'm telling you. It'll be a classic. It was the best he's sounded in years," he joked.
"Yeah, he's back!" I exclaimed," he really put his heart into it. He reminded people he's still one of the greatest rock stars ever. He sounds much older now but he still sounds great."
He remained silent as I placed the tray in the oven and then he added, changing the subject again,
"You really do like to cook, don't you?"
I smiled slightly at his attempt to start a more personal conversation,
"I would hardly call that cooking," I said, because I was indeed a bit of a cooking enthusiast.
"Well, no one else but you is helping with the food."
"I guess that's one thing my father taught me. He always used to say that he hated all the Irish junk food."
I paused for a moment, wondering why I was even mentioning him. I had never talked to Damien about my family, something I only ever shared with the people closest to me. I realized it was probably the thought of going back to Dublin in a few days and facing my mother again that was stressing me out more than I wanted to admit.
"What's the deal with him?" he asked. "You seem to hate his guts."
"Really, you've noticed?" I asked as I started the last remaining tray.
"I seem to recall you and Rob backbiting him a few times, yeah."
"Oh. We must be doing it without realizing it anymore… I've got a fucked up family," I said flatly, not making eye-contact with him.
"Don't we all?" he asked, not dropping the subject, "My parents got divorced when I was ten and they've never been able to get along since then."
I shrugged and blurted out,
"Yeah, well, my mother's a good catholic woman who cheated on her husband, got pregnant with me, and then had him raise me as his son because she wouldn't get an abortion. So he's always resented her for it and hated me."
He didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, I looked up at him. He just stared, a little stunned, searching for words but finding none. Finally, he stuttered,
"Ok... You win."
I let out a short chuckle. “I don’t even know why I’m talking about them.”
“Did you know he wasn’t your father?” he asked immediately.
I shook my head. “No. They did a great job hiding it from me. And when you’re a kid… that’s not even something you think about.”
"Shit. That's heavy. Is your real father French though?"
"Yeah, he lives in Bordeaux. Hardly speaks a word of English."
"Really? My aunt lives there. I used to go on vacation there."
I smiled,
"Small world. We used to go to Frejus, on the Mediterranean coast."
"I'd love to go back there. It'd bring back good childhood memories. I haven't spent any time in France for like ten years. I mean, except for Paris."
"Yeah, me neither."
He smiled,
"See, there's something we could be doing together."
My eyebrows furrowed and I shook my head,
"Don't do that!" I said and placed the last tray in the oven.
I decided that I had done enough to help out in the kitchen so I turned to Damien.
"After you," I said.
He looked at me at bit too intensely at that instant but finally turned around and headed out of the kitchen.
We went back into the living room for a drink. The guests were all mingling, talking, laughing sipping cocktails and nibbling on appetizers. Soon, the buffet was served. The entire living room and balcony were packed and most people seemed determined to talk to us. Jordan and I made our way through, chatting with a few people from the music industry. Some were genuinely famous, others… famous in their own minds. The questions were the same, over and over.
“Are you working on another album?” “When’s your next record coming out?” “We should try to work together.”
Once the music kicked in, the party erupted. Everyone was dancing, laughing, and letting loose. I joined Jordan and a group of beautiful girls who seemed impressed by us, along with a kid who couldn’t have been over nineteen, overtly gay, loud, and surprisingly fun to party with.
I tried to keep my distance from Damien, but as the night went on, it became harder and harder. After a couple of hours, he appeared beside me, wrapped his arm around my waist, pressed close, and whispered in my ear that he wanted to talk in private, then walked away.
I watched him head toward the stairs, even though the party didn’t extend upstairs. I knew I was going to follow him. My chest tightened, my head spun, and anxiety washed over me, even though I hadn’t drunk much. I was grateful for that; otherwise, I might not have been able to handle whatever was coming.
I took a step toward the stairs, but then Jordan’s voice cut through the music, loud and sharp.
He grabbed my arm and asked in my ear to make sure I'd hear him,
"Where the fuck d'you think you're going?"
"To fuck his brains out," I answered matter-of-factly.
He just looked at me and ordered somewhat playfully,
"Stay where I can see you!"
"Jord, it's fine," I said as I began pushing him backwards to reach the bottom of the stairs.
He pushed back, obstructing me from going up them.
"You've asked me to make sure you wouldn't be alone with him."
"For too long…," I added.
He tutted,
"If you're not down in five minutes, I swear, I come up there!"
"Fine. I don't need more," I said, trying to shrug him off.
He shook his head,
"You haven't had sex in over a month. You might not need more."
I laughed, because even though he didn't need to know that, I was indeed going through a horny phase.
He asked suspiciously,
"How drunk are you?"
"Not drunk at all! Do you even know me?" I leaned even closer, grinning. "Although, I might not resist the temptation to get wasted after this," I said with a laugh, I felt like I had been taking things way too seriously in the past few weeks.
"Please, indulge yourself!" he said, smirking.
I raised an eyebrow, and he added, “How drunk is he?”
"I don't know!" I exclaimed, "Come on, get out of my way," I said.
He let go of my arm, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Just remember, I tried to stop you. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
"I won't!" I called as I slipped past him.
Once upstairs I noticed the bathroom door was slightly ajar, I walked inside and closed the door behind me. I looked at him and he stared up at me with his beautiful blue eyes and smiled.
Here we were again.
"Hey," he said quietly.
His eyes kept wandering down my body, and that same intense expression from the day he kissed me in the studio burned across his face. But somehow, the look made me think this might be his last attempt at seducing me.
"Whatever you have in mind, you know I didn't come up here for that," I said.
"Just tell me to leave then."
I said nothing and he stood there for a moment as we locked eyes. My chest was heaving. I had just been dancing and I felt like I had just finished a three-mile run.
Damien looked like he was thinking a million thoughts at once.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair, "I hate how you make me feel. Every time I think I'm over you, and then I see you again…."
I rolled my eyes slightly,
"Why did you come to the studio last week?"
"Because, I needed to see you again. Because I thought I was over you…," he paused and stared at me for a few seconds.
His eyes brightened, and for a moment I thought he was going to say something, but then, like lightning, he rushed toward me. There was fire in his eyes as he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me to him. Our lips met and he kissed me hard, making no apologies for it.
For an instant, I felt almost paralyzed by the intensity. He pressed himself against me, still kissing me, and my back slammed against the wall. I could feel his body responding, his cock pressing into me.
“Stop!” I nearly yelled, pushing him off me. “Fuck, I’m not here to have sex with you…”
He stepped back, touching his lips as he looked at me, breathing hard.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
For a few seconds, he just studied me. Then, calmly, without a hint of desperation, he said,
“Why do you keep acting like this is one-sided…? You’re attracted to me.”
I could hear the maturity in his voice, the control. I liked that.
“I am attracted to you. I think that’s obvious. But that doesn’t mean my feelings are any less for Rob.”
I said his name, and I could see it upset him.
He hesitated, as if weighing his next move.
“Yeah, well… I don’t think I’d be capable of being attracted to anyone else if I were with you,” he said. “Maybe your feelings for him aren’t as strong as you want to believe.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel, or how I should feel,” I said. “You said it yourself. You’ve never really been in love with anyone.”
He stepped closer, planting one hand against the wall beside my head.
“I am in love,” he said quietly. “Ever since I met you.” His eyes never left mine.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Stop doing this to yourself. Your so-called boyfriend is downstairs, and…”
“I know he is,” he cut in. His voice dropped. “But I want you. Just give me a chance.”
“I can’t give you a chance,” I said flatly.
“Then why did you follow me up here?”
“Because I need you to understand that you can’t be with me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he whispered. He leaned in and brushed a single kiss against my cheek.
“You’re just afraid to admit you’re not sure you’re with the person you should be with. You’re afraid to give me a chance.”
I shook my head lightly. “No. Damien, I’m happy with my life. I’m happy with who I’m with,” I said, trying to pull away from him.
It was all too much. He wouldn’t let me go. He pressed his body against mine, brought his mouth back to mine, and kissed me intensely again. I resisted at first, but the sensation of being kissed quickly overwhelmed me. His strong hands held my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks as he used his tongue to part my lips, like he already knew I was about to give in.
For a second, I let him. And then, I was kissing him back.
This is just so wrong, I kept thinking as he continued his assault on my mouth, the thought echoing uselessly in my head while my body betrayed me.
I had to stop this. I knew I did. Damien's hands slid down, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt while his lips left mine, trailing along my jawline and throat. This was the moment to end it, I knew, but I didn't. Not yet.
His warm hands moved over my chest, slow and confident, making me start to stiffen as his mouth drifted to my neck and then slowly lower, down my chest.
I knew I had reached the point of no return. I knew I had to make a decision.
As I saw it, I had two options. First, I could let the overwhelming wave of desire overtake me, have sex with Damien, break his heart, break Rob's heart, putting myself into the role of a complete asshole. Second, I could stop this all right now before too many people were left feeling hurt and confused.
His hand reached for my belt. That was it. I chose option number two.
"Damien, I can't," I said, forcing his hand away. "This …. it's just not right."
His eyes lingered on my lips. I could tell he wanted to feel them against his again.
“I just can’t win,” he said softly, a hurt smile tugging at his lips as he took a step back.
"No. You've got feelings for me… you want more than just sex."
"I'll settle for that right now," he breathed.
"Stop it. I don't love you," I said, my voice steady.
"You could love me," he insisted, holding my gaze.
I stared back,
"No! I know what it's like to be in love."
"Come on, it's obvious things aren't great with him right now."
"That doesn't make it ok to be with someone else, especially you of all people,” I snapped. “I've told you, what's going on with him is none of your business. Don't think you know anything about our relationship."
He sighed. I rebuttoned my shirt and stopped trying to soften the blow.
"Do you even realize what you're asking me?… You're asking me to give up my entire life for you. My career. My friends. My boyfriend of ten years…I can't do that. I won't."
He looked down, unwilling to meet my eyes. He knew exactly what a relationship with him would mean, what it would cost me. It would only work if I walked away from the band, and that was something I would never do.
"You know this can’t happen,” I said firmly. “Maybe it could if I were hopelessly in love with you - but I’m not. Fuck, get a life. Stop being so hung up on me. You have to move on. You know I’d only end up breaking your heart, and I don’t want that kind of drama. I just want to play music with my friends, be with my boyfriend, travel, enjoy life. That’s the life I’ve worked for,” I said, locking eyes with him. “That’s the life I want,” I added resolutely.
He stared at me, and I held his gaze, waiting to see if he would finally let go. Instead, he stepped closer, lifting a hand to my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. Slowly, I raised my own hand and rested it over his. He drew it toward his mouth and kissed it gently, sending a shiver up my arm.
“Damien,” I said firmly, pulling my hand away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
He sighed and gently brought his lips to mine. It wasn’t a hungry, desperate I want you kind of kiss, it felt more like a let me do this one last time kiss. So, I let him.
He cupped my face, his hands resting softly near my ears, and pressed his lips against mine. We kissed slowly, deliberately. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, hurt and demoralized.
“Have a nice life,” he said quietly. “I really hope he makes you happy.”
I looked away, staring blankly ahead as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door ajar behind him.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
A heavy wave of relief washed over me and I dragged my hands down my face, trying to steady myself.
I felt awful for him. I could only imagine how heartbroken I’d be if Rob were telling me what I’d just told Damien. I knew I’d done the right thing, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. I stayed where I was, trying to pull myself together.
Suddenly, the twink from the party slipped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.
I jumped. “Jesus, you startled me.”
“Bit jumpy, aren’t we?” he laughed.
He turned on the tap and dabbed at his shirt. “Spilled Coke on myself,” he said with a chuckle.
The sound of the running water filled the room, drowning out everything else as I replayed what had just happened, wondering - again - if there was anything I could’ve done differently.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.
I blinked, realizing he’d already asked me once. “Yeah,” I said, a little too quickly.
I knew Jordan had probably sent him up to check on us, but I tried anyway. “You know there’s a bathroom downstairs, right?”
“Busy,” he shrugged, then glanced at me and smirked. “Also… not cool to leave you like that.” He gestured toward my crotch, clearly amused.
I wasn’t fully hard, but from his angle, there must’ve been enough of a bulge to catch his attention.
“Need some help with that?” he asked, stepping closer and briefly placing his hand over my jeans.
“I’m good,” I said, my head still foggy. “Aren’t you a bit young for me?”
He frowned. “Seriously? What’s with the age bullshit? I’m not twelve, and you’re not exactly forty.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, making it clear I wasn’t interested.
He shrugged it off with a grin. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Then he stumbled cheerfully out of the bathroom, leaving me alone again.
I huffed, thinking that this party was slowly turning into a test of my faithfulness to Rob, one I wasn’t entirely sure I’d pass. After a moment, I headed downstairs and immediately poured myself a vodka and Coke. Everyone was dancing now, louder and looser thanks to the alcohol. I decided I was done being serious. It was time to let go a little, just like everyone else.
“He just left… how’d it go?” Jordan asked as he came up behind me.
I shrugged. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Fine!” he said, grinning as he noticed my drink. “So… shall we get you wasted now?”
I laughed. “Let’s!”
He poured himself the same thing, and we clinked our glasses, toasting to something stupid, me throwing up before the end of the night, before knocking them back. We rejoined the party and started dancing again with the same group of gorgeous girls from earlier. It was immediately obvious that Jordan would have his pick, they all seemed more than willing, though he’d clearly already set his sights on one in particular.
It didn’t take long for my inhibitions to dissolve. I kept refilling my glass, and before long I could feel the alcohol working its way through me. I wasn’t completely wasted, but I was definitely drunk, more than I usually let myself get.
After dancing for a while, I poured myself yet another drink and stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. I sank onto one of the bar stools Jimmy had set up outside. Almost immediately, the gay boy joined me. He hadn’t strayed far from me all night, and I hadn’t exactly tried to avoid him either.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Yeah… I guess,” I said with a small smile.
“Nothing a few drinks can’t fix,” he said with a chuckle. “So… who was the guy in the bathroom earlier?” He tilted his head, curious. “Isn’t your rock star boyfriend good enough for you?”
“Complicated,” I said, rolling my eyes. Then, eager to change the subject, I added, “So how do you know Jimmy?”
“I don’t,” he replied easily. “I came with my sister. She knows I love these kinds of parties, especially when there’s a chance a few celebrities might show up.”
I smiled, and he launched into talking about our music, the songs he liked, the artists he listened to, the concerts he’d been to. I mostly let him talk, chiming in now and then with an anecdote or two. It was easy, comfortable.
After a while, he nodded toward my glass. “How about another one of those?”
“What the hell,” I said.
I stood up and immediately remembered why standing up is the real test when you’ve been drinking. I stumbled, instinctively steadying myself by grabbing onto his thighs. They were solid beneath the jeans he was wearing.
I looked up at him, a silent yeah, I’m wasted. He nodded knowingly, eyes sparkling, and for a split second it looked like he might lean in and kiss me. Instead, he placed a hand on my arm as he stood too, steadying both of us, and we made our way back toward the bar.
For a brief moment, I tried to figure out why I was drinking so heavily. I wanted to believe it was just for fun - the excuse Rob always gave - but I knew better. I was trying to numb myself. Everything with Rob, everything with Damien… it had all left me feeling low, unsettled. And in a strange way, I think I wanted to feel what Rob had been feeling. I knew he’d been drinking for similar reasons - sadness, overwhelm, the sense that things were slipping out of his control.
Those thoughts tangled with others now, thoughts of the twink. The looks he’d been giving me, the brief memory of his thighs under my hands. He wasn’t really my type, but he was attractive. And with all the attention I’d been getting, I was undeniably worked up. My body made that much clear. I wasn’t seriously considering anything, but I knew I was drunk enough to make a decision I might regret.
We found our way back to the dance floor and started moving together, close, bodies brushing. When his hips pressed against mine, the reaction was immediate. He noticed. Of course he did. He pulled me closer and leaned in, his mouth near my ear as he said,
"You wanna fuck?"
I looked into his eyes, smiled and found myself telling him to follow me upstairs.
Minutes later, we were in my bedroom. He didn't hesitate and immediately undid my belt buckle and pushed his hand into my jeans. I moaned as he rubbed his hand up and down my shaft. I reached down as well and was greeted by a raging hard on. I slipped my hands into his underwear and he leaned into me as I grabbed his butt cheeks, amazed with how they felt, smooth, firm and creamy. I let go of his ass and removed my shirt first. He attacked my neck with his lips and pressed his hands against my pectoral muscles.
"You're hot as fuck!" he whispered.
He began kissing his way down my chest and I pressed my hands over the top of his head and guided him downwards until he was kneeling in front of me. He understood I wanted a blowjob from him. He quickly pulled my underwear down to my ankles and his eyes lit up when he had the full realization of what was in front of him. He suddenly looked like he hadn't eaten in a week. He lightly pressed his face into the crease where my pelvis met my leg and he kissed my skin, my cock against his cheek. Then he moved lower, his tongue reaching out to lap at my sack. He took my balls in his mouth, causing my cock to throb and began licking at the base before his tongue made its way up and over it.
I gasped a bit as he took the head in his mouth, his tongue running around it. My hands began running through his hair and he took me deeper and deeper, wanting to get as much of my cock in his mouth as he could.
After a short moment, we made our way closer to the bed and I sat on the edge as he, once again, took my cock in his mouth. I sighed and enjoyed the feeling. It felt like it had been so long since I had been touched down there. It had almost become an unfamiliar sensation. My mind was temporarily devoid of any thoughts of where I was and the fact that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing.
"Oh yeah," I moaned as I felt his nose against my short pubes, he deepthroated me a few times and I could tell he was enjoying himself.
Since I had been feeling like I was on the brink of cumming for the past week, I knew that I wasn't going to be able to last long at all. I tilted my head back, lowered my hips a little and started rocking them up and down, slowly fucking his face. He was moaning and I opened my eyes to watch his hands withdraw his penis. It certainly wasn't huge, but it was perhaps one of the prettiest ones I had ever seen. Light pubes poked out of his shorts as he pulled on his cock and played with his balls. I closed my eyes, again, giving myself up the sensations I was feeling. I knew that guilt would quickly be following from behind, so I tried to just fully enjoy it.
The need in me was rising rapidly,
"Fuck," I whimpered, my eyes still closed, "I'm close."
He increased the speed of his mouth on my cock and before long, I couldn't hold back anymore. Giving a low and loud guttural groan, I started to shoot into his mouth, and I could tell he had no intention of stopping. I could feel the cum rip through my cock, the pleasure a lot more intense than I had expected. He was making all kinds of sounds that only made me cum harder. I just kept pumping into him. I guess what I was saving for Rob, he ended up getting it all.
I watched him finish swallowing my load before he stood up and looked into my eyes. His eyes were full of lust. He took my hand and wrapped it around his cock, stroking himself with it. I guess he knew I wouldn't be fucking him, but he wanted to get off and I was not going to leave him like that. I stood up as well and he said,
"Man, was that normal or were you really storing up?" he laughed.
First, I decided I didn't really need to answer that but ended up saying,
"I guess you got all that I was saving for my rock star boyfriend."
He smiled and I savored the feeling of his wet cock slipping up and down my hand. He let go of my hand, content to let me do the stroking on my own.
"I'll take this as a compliment," he replied.
He pressed himself tightly against me and moaned,
"Faster."
He nuzzled his face into my chest as I jerked him hard against me, he started to moan louder and soon after, cum shot out of his pretty dick, splashing my thigh and falling into the floor. He held onto me as he came, pulling my face to his and kissing my neck. After he had calmed down he smiled at me and told me how great I was, although in all fairness, I really hadn't done anything. I had only used him.
I went to grab a tissue for my thigh, then I got dressed too and noticed that he looked completely content.
“We better get back to the party before my sister notices I’ve disappeared,” he said.
We headed down the stairs, and I tried not to overthink what had just happened. I hadn’t gone all the way with Damien, but I had crossed a line. I wanted to blame the alcohol, but honestly, I wasn’t drunk enough to not know what I was doing. In a twisted way, a small part of me even hoped Rob might have done something similar, so he wouldn’t hold it against me. I knew I’d tell him eventually, and he probably wouldn’t make a big deal of it. Still, the guilt lingered, heavy and persistent.
The party continued for another couple of hours, and once everyone had left, I surveyed the aftermath. It was a mess, but thankfully not my place, someone was coming by the next day to clean up. I had no intention of touching a thing.
I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, then flopped onto my bed. Before sleep claimed me, I wondered what I would think about all of this tomorrow.
As it turned out, I didn't think much of it when I woke up and quickly decided to forget about Damien, to forget about the blowjob and to just focus on more important things. Jordan and I spent the day trying to get rid of our hangover and we began packing.
We left New York on Monday evening and landed in Dublin early on Tuesday morning. We went to stay with his parents. I liked them a lot. I had spent countless hours hanging out with him at his house as a kid and they were kinda family to me. In fact, I knew that if I had knocked on his door instead of Rob's, which had happened a few times, I would have found the same support. Jordan's mother was glad to have him back, as much as she was trying to hide it from him, and she was also thrilled to have me around for a few days.
I went to see Rob's mother and we spent an entire afternoon talking about what was going on with him. She thanked me for making him go to the rehab center. Spending time with him in London, she had noticed that even though he wasn't exactly addicted to anything, he might be in the future because something was definitely wrong with him. Just like me, she had seen how he was shutting himself off, how he wasn't his normal cheerful self. I told her that I was worried because pretty much everything he used to do with a lot of enthusiasm seemed to have become a chore and that he just seemed to be sad most of the time. He had talked to her about that but he couldn't quite explain or understand why he was feeling the way he was feeling and he needed therapists to help him.
Once in Dublin, I wanted to call him all the time. I wasn’t alone anymore, but I was still lonely. I realized they were two very different feelings. He was just a phone call away, and yet, somehow, he wasn’t. I felt guilty for what I’d done, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him yet. Jane had said I should give him some space, he had just started the program in L.A., and he needed time to work through his own head.
He hadn’t called me either, and I wasn’t sure why, but I knew that therapists often limited communication with the outside world at the start. All I knew was that I didn’t want my call to make him want to give up. I didn’t want to have to convince him again that he had to do this, for him, for us, for our career. And yet, my heart ached to be with him.
Jane had also persuaded me to talk to my mother again. So, on Saturday morning, I found myself standing in front of my childhood home, surprisingly calm, finally ready. Ready to do this. Ready to forgive, I supposed.
For a moment, I glanced at Rob’s old house next door. Aside from a few details, it looked almost the same, and a small smile tugged at my lips as memories from our childhood and teenage years came rushing back. I knew that no matter how the conversation with my mother went, I’d feel the urge to call Rob and tell him about it. At that moment, he was very much on my mind, and I missed him like crazy.
“Let’s go?” Amy’s voice brought me back.
I looked at her and smiled. “Yeah,” I answered simply.
We walked up to the front door, and she rang the bell a couple of times. My mother opened almost instantly. She first looked at Amy, then slowly turned to me. For a long moment, she just stared, unable to speak. I looked away briefly, then back at her, noticing how much older she seemed, seven years older, and somehow less strict, less uptight than I remembered. She swallowed hard, and I could tell she was holding back tears.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said cautiously, laying her hand on mine. “Come inside.”
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