Page 3 of Social Sinners

“First and foremost, you assumed I was straight, and that’s on you– not me. Second, I’m not gay, I’m bi, which is my business and no one else’s. Well, aside from Easton’s. This, this right here,” I gestured between him and me, “is exactly why we didn’t want you to know about us. We knew you’d overreact and turn it into a confrontation.” That seemed to shut his pompous ass up, at least for now.

“You’re right, Diamond,” Joey said, stepping up beside us, “it’s not our business. We’re just surprised is all.”

“I’m so excited for you, Boo!” Benny announced, launching himself at my midsection.

“Oof.” My body released as his assault knocked the wind from me “Haha. Thanks, little man.” I hugged him but couldn’t resist ruffling his hair. He growled every time I did it, and it sounded more like a kitten trying to work on his big kitty roar than the scary warning he was going for.

“I can’t deny that I’m not surprised by this,” Mickey said. “There were signs we all ignored. But in reality, the only thing that matters to me is that my brother is happy. Are you happy, man?” The sincerity in his question resonated deeply with me.

I wrapped my arm around Easton’s shoulder, looking down at him as I answered Mickey. “Yeah, I really fucking am.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” Mickey hugged me first then shocked everyone including Easton when he embraced him as well. “I can’t deny that I’m a little hurt. You’re my best friend, and we fucking live together. You never told me you were into dudes, let alone dating our band manager.”

Mickey’s gruffness shocked me, especially considering his last declaration. “Sorry man, but that’s my business, and it’s only been one dude, not dudes.”

“Still…” he trailed off as he headed over to the twins. We’d nicknamed Mickey’s blonde brigade the twins when they came into the picture. They really looked nothing alike outside of their hair color, but the nickname just fit.

Seemed the conversation was over as everyone headed into their respective rooms. We had an early flight back to Seattle in the morning and were slated to return to the studio later this week. As soon as we were in our room, Easton started rummaging through his bag for his shower kit while I sat on the bed, removing my dress shoes.

“Diamond?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I overreacted. I don’t know what got into me.”

I had an idea what it was, but with his emotions running as high as they were, it would only start another fight. One I didn’t want but would get if I so much as attempted to broach the subject.

He came and sat beside me. “You know I have trust issues.”

“I do, but I also know I’ve done nothing to deserve the treatment you dished out to me tonight.” Easton had one serious boyfriend in college who broke his heart. After that, he retreated so deep inside himself, he buried his nose in his books too keep from getting hurt again. Now, five years later, I was the first guy to bring him out of his comfort zone. I won’t deny the time Stoli talked to me when we were on tour with Better Off Dead, that I knew Easton had a crush on me. It wasn’t until the night I stuck up for him when they were fucking with him on their bus, that I allowed myself to feel something in return. But I didn’t act on it. I’m pretty much an emotionless twat, or so everyone thinks. I hide behind my smartass persona. It keeps me from having to endure the pain burning beneath the surface from the years of verbal and physical abuse I’d taken from my father. I’m slow to feel, but if showing my emotions is what it takes to keep Easton and make him happy, then I’ll vow to never wear that mask again.

If I ever let the twenty-eight years of repressed anger inside me loose, it wouldn’t bode well for whoever’s around me. And I’d more than likely end up in jail. I remember the days when I would bang away for hours on end on my drums after my dad had beat my ass for something. Taking it out on my set was the only safe escape I had for the anger, hatred, and rage, I felt toward the man.

My love for the skins started after one of the parents at Sunday school suggested I take up a hobby such as music… as an outlet in lieu of the shit, I would always get in to. I’d been in the principal's office multiple times by that point for fighting. The clarinet was my parent's first instrument choice for me, which didn’t go over well. The music teacher at my school saw that was only making things worse and asked me to stay after class one day. I thought I was in trouble again because that was usually the case. But when he put the sticks in my hand and told me I could bang on something without getting my ass beat, it was like having an epiphany of sorts. Three afterschool sessions later, he called my parents in for a conference and told them he’d seen a drastic change in me. They agreed, and that was how the drummer in me got started. I guess I was eleven, maybe twelve when I got my first kit and had a knack for mimicking the drummers I heard on the radio.

My dad’s anger shot off the charts listening to me play at all hours of the day and night. I wasn’t much of a sleeper so when the mood would strike, I’d bang away. He moved the set from my room to the garage, and when that still wasn’t quiet enough, he made me pad them with pillows to keep the noise contained. By the time I was thirteen, the drums alone were no longer enough of an escape. Raging hormones and anger management issues made for a dangerous combination. So, I started lifting weights to balance it out. Over the next two summers, I shot up more than a foot in height and gained a sweet amount of muscle mass. Between major growth spurts and the bulk I’d added, I was quite formidable. That, accentuated by the permanent scowl I wore, made the other kids leave me alone.

“Come on,” I stood, and began undressing, “let’s go shower.” Easton may think he’s a skinny dweeb, but what he doesn’t realize is he’s perfect in my eyes.Maybe I should tell him that more often. I’ve never connected with someone for more than a quick fuck before him. Never had seconds. Never dated. I was a certified bachelor. Easton was the one who changed that for me. I go from zero to sixty when he touches me. I don’t know what it is about him and I don’t care to dissect it. I like it, and I’m not gonna question it.

Easton was so tense lately. The nightmares and sleepless nights were really taking their toll on him physically, and clearly on an emotional level as well. He needed a massage that came with a happy ending, and I was just the man for the job.

I watched the cascade of warm water glide down his naked flesh while loading up the shower sponge with body wash and began washing him. His shoulders were tight, so I spent some extra time working the knots out with my hands.

“You should ask Benny for an appointment. You’re really knotted up,” I informed him.

“Mmm. Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll set something up while you guys are in the studio this week,” he replied. I made a mental note to mention something to Benny in case Easton forgot. He always put the band and our needs first, and it was high time someone started looking out for him.

I couldn’t help myself, touching him always made me hard, but I wasn’t sure what kind of mood he was in. We spent most nights together even though the guys had no idea that we’d been doing so. At least now that we were out of the dating closet we wouldn’t have to fly under the radar any longer. When he leaned back against me, moaning as I rubbed his achy muscles, I was relieved he was finally starting to relax.

“Why do I always feel safe when I’m with you?”

“Because I’m your protector and you know I won’t hurt you,” I said, nipping his shoulder. While I wouldn’t call Easton a pain-slut, he did enjoy things a bit more intense when we messed around. For which there would be no complaints coming from meever.

“I need more,” he begged.

“I know baby. I could see it in your eyes.” How I used humor to mask my pain, Easton liked sex a little rough to get through his. I knew this day had been hard on him, and I fully anticipated his needs. There was a club in Seattle we’d frequent when he required more than the tools we had at home. BDSM was his way of letting go of not only what was plaguing him, but for living a life that he continuously had to be on top of his game for. He was in charge of everything we did, where we went, what we ate, how we got there– you name it. In the bedroom he didn’t want to think, he only wanted to feel. He wanted the thinking to be done for him, and he wanted it in a way that freed his mind from all it was overloaded with. He needed to share this with his therapist so the jackass would quit prescribing him pill after pill to take. Pharmaceuticals were not the answer. Easton was a walking pharmacy now, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it came to a head, and he snapped. More so than he had tonight.

“Did you bring any of our gear?” he asked as he dried off.

“No, we’ll have to keep it down anyways.” I scoured the room, looking for items I could improvise with. At the very least, I’d need to silence him. While he may be quiet when working, he was the complete opposite in bed, which was one of many things I loved about him. But this wasn’t the time nor the place to be vocal.Ah, my tie will do nicely.“Come here,” once he was gagged, the Dom in me entered the room. “Face down, ass up.” There’d be time for lovemaking later, tonight was about taking care of Easton’s needs.

That gorgeous ass in the air, begging for me to enter it had my cock rock hard. The females I’d been with weren’t fond of my piercing. Well, my size in conjunction with that was more than they could handle, but Easton fucking loved it. The symmetry for which the Prince Albert was defined, allowed me to peg his prostate every time. I grabbed the lube off the side table and tossed it on the bed beside him. We’d long since forgone using condoms after we were both tested a few months back. I landed a not so sweet smack to his ass. Adding a matching one to the other cheek and stood back, admiring the pinkish hue tinting his flesh in the form of my handprints, and how nicely they fit across each cheek.

“You better grab the headboard. This isn’t going to be nice, or easy, and I don’t want your head hitting the wall.” I clocked that ass I was about to nail, watching it scramble up the bed as his fingers firmly grasped the headboard. There’d be no foreplay tonight and minimal prep work. He needed it fast and hard and with every passing second, my need to give it to him as such increased. In hindsight, this was therapy for me too. As ridiculous as it may sound, we offset each other perfectly. With lube in hand, I poured a healthy amount on the head of my cock and smeared it down the shaft, tugging a couple times. I loved the feel of the piercing as much as Easton did.

After squirting some lube on his crack, I coated two of my fingers, outlining his hole with them before pushing in to the first knuckle. I drizzled some more around his entrance before driving them in all the way. Fucking hell, I loved the way his body welcomed me. It was like it was created with me in mind. Fingering his hole, in and out and in and out again, I watched as his pucker contracted when my digits retracted before entering once more. When Easton pushed back, riding my fingers, I knew he was ready for me.

I lined my cock up at his entrance, catching the glimmer off the ring before shoving my way inside in a single thrust. He didn’t flinch, as most would’ve from the forced intrusion. Instead, he shivered, and his body broke out in goosebumps. As the momentum built, I gripped his throat, pulling him upright and pounded his ass relentlessly. My free hand joined his around his cock, vigorously jacking him off as I nailed his prostate again and again. It wouldn’t take much longer before he came, and I’d be right behind him. I couldn’t deny I enjoyed the rough stuff as much as he did. It brought out the primal beast in me that longed to be released. Being gentle wasn’t my style, and it was hard to find hookups in the past who were into anything a shade darker than vanilla.

When his channel pulsed around me, signaling his release it sent me over the edge. I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming and instead growled as I came. He collapsed in my arms, entirely spent and I hoped he’d finally sleep peacefully through the night.

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