Tough Guy

“Hold still, Shads, or I’m going to shave you bald.” I gripped at Matt as I combed his hair back for him. We were running late for the show because he’d over slept and I hadn’t been paying attention to the time. It was the third time in the past month we’d over slept.

“If it will save us time next time, I will let you.” He groaned as he finally got his boot on. I threw him his sunglasses and pulled one of his baseball caps on over my hair. Matt shook his head, “You look weird, babe. Turn it around backwards or something.”

I pushed it slightly sideways so that you could see most of my face, “Better?”

“Much. Let’s go. I’m glad we parked close today instead of sixty miles away.” He groaned and ran off of the bus. I followed him off and into the venue.

Zacky handed me my guitar, “It’s tuned, it’s ready. I’m getting really tired of doing your sound checks for you.”

“Thanks, Zee. You’re the best. I’m sorry.” I hugged him with one arm and used the other to pull the guitar strap over my shoulder. I was always the first out on stage to pay a tearing solo that would get the crowd’s attention. Then the others would storm the stage and Matt would be his usual charming, loud, rough stage persona that was far more like his actual personality than he cared to admit.

Being onstage was a wonderful thing. It gave me an adrenaline rush from hell and I loved it. I also loved watching the guys perform. They played with their whole hearts and that was something awesome to see too. Especially Matt because he loved to scream and yell and interact with the crowd and with us. He’d mess with Zacky’s head, head bang with Jimmy, and come put his arm around me to watch me play over my shoulder. I’d lean into him and he’d come dangerously close to kissing my cheek without actually doing it. I loved it and so did my libido.
When we were coming off stage, after an awesome show, Matt leaned over and kissed me on the neck wetly, “Good job, baby.”

I laughed a little and hugged him, “You too, babe. And I’m not your baby.”

“Sure you’re not.” He smirked and kept an arm around me until we got to the merch stand where we were signing that night.

The “manager” was there like always and like always she tried to split us up. Matt left his arm around me, “Synyster will be sitting next to me tonight, so back off, lady.”

I laughed a little and plopped down. After about an hour or so, spent with Matt’s hand on my knee and mine reaching down to squeeze his hand every few moments, we finally packed up to leave. The “manager” informed us that we had a two-night overstay so that we could rest up for another two week string of show after show.

Matt grinned at me, “Maybe we can find some privacy.”

The manager, who’s name I had yet to learn, seemed to just then catch on. She blanched, looked from one to the other of us, and sighed, “You have hotel rooms. I had grouped Brian and Zacky together, Jimmy and Lena together, and Matt by himself . . .but if you guys feel the need to change them they’re under your name, Matt. The hotel is up the road, on the left, huge sign . . .you can’t miss it.” Her tone clearly said that if we did we were idiots.

Matt and I walked out with our arms around each other. Jimmy, who was normally gung-ho for our affection, stopped us, “Guys, this is Texas. I’m surprised we even played a show here . . .in a state full of rednecks. You should really probably try to tone it down.”

Matt looked down at me, “We can take the heat, Jimmy, but thanks. Let’s go back to the bus and get some clothes and stuff, guys.”

“Yeah, and then hit a bar.” Zacky suggested.

Matt looked at me and I shrugged, “Sure, if you want. I could use a beer.”

“Or four or five.” Jimmy grinned and we headed toward the bus.

Less than hour later, we were sitting in a bar that looked updated and new on the outside but the inside was just another dusty beer joint. I nodded at the dart boards on the wall, “Who wants to play?”

“I’ll play you.” Matt stood and went to the dartboards. He grabbed two sets of darts and came back to hand me a set, “Wanna put money on it?”

“Well if the guys were playing yeah, but since they’re not . . .if you win, I’ll do anything you want to you, for you, and with you. If I win, you tell everyone at the next concert you’re gay.” I smirked at him.

He frowned, “Pick another prize, any other. I’m not ready for that yet.”

I smirked back, “Let’s see. What did you tell me one day not too long ago? I believe it was ‘It’s all or fucking nothing’, wasn’t it? Well, Sanders . . .it’s all or fucking nothing, baby.”

“I’m not your baby.” He mimicked me from earlier and nodded, “Fine, but you better actually try to win or I’m going to torture your ass in the bedroom tonight.”

I smirked again and threw my first dart. It was almost a bull’s-eye and Matt sighed. His was way off and I could tell that it startled him. I did truly try to win, throwing as well as I could, using my handgun experience to aim. Matt only lost by a little and he groaned and sat down, burying his head in his hands. He was really upset! He really and truly didn’t want to tell the whole world he was gay yet.

I grabbed his hand, “Come on, let’s go to the hotel room and talk, okay?”

He nodded and looked back at the guys, “If you get trashed, make sure you go to the right room.”

Zacky simply waved at him, smiled at the really cute but really straight bartender, and ordered another beer.

I laughed and pulled Matt toward the hotel. We didn’t speak a word until we got into our rooms. He pulled me to him, “Brian, please say something.”

I pushed him down on the bed and straddled his waist, causing him to huff but play with the ends of my shirt, “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have made that bet. You aren’t ready and I shouldn’t push you. It should be enough for me that you’re here. That you were willing to take that bet instead of telling me to go fuck myself.”

He shook his head, “No, I should be ready, but I’m a fucking pussy about some things. I’m the one that should be sorry for not trying to come out.”

“Not trying hard enough. Matt, when you were with Zacky, did you ever hold his hand in public?” I shifted on his hips, grinding us together.

He groaned and clutched my hips, shaking his head slowly.

“Did you ever hug him or almost kiss him on stage?”

Again he shook his head. I punched his chest, “Well what the hell! You do those things with me so how can you say you’re not trying? I ought to beat your ass for being so down on yourself.”

He caught my fist and laughed, “Alright, alright. Damn! You won’t let me think I’m a horrible boyfriend, will you?”

“Oh, no, you are a horrible boyfriend, but I’m used to it. It’s kind of cute how you fuck up and then scramble to fix it.” I grinned at him and he put his hands on my shoulders. I thought for sure he was going to heave me in the floor and was ready for it. Instead he flipped us so that he was laying on top, pinning me heavily.

I glared at him and he grinned, kissing me before pulling back, “You’re not a good boyfriend, either, Brian. You leave me hanging. . . well not so much as hanging as swinging all the time. And with Zacky always so close, always ready to jump in bed with either of us. You’d think you were trying to get me to fuck the poor guy.”

I pulled his head down as if to kiss him and sharply bit his neck. He groaned and let me until he realized something, “No marks, Brian! Fuck! Syn, I said no marks, let go.”

I licked his skin soothingly as he pinned my hands above me. I could easily get away but I loved the rough treatment. I grinned at him and kissed the red-quickly-turning-purple mark, “Mine. All mine.”

He smiled a little and licked a path down my neck to my chest, “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to make your mark for that one. I’m all yours no matter what. Now get the pants off.”

I laughed, “I can’t you have me pinned down.”

“Don’t be an ass.” He griped and let me “struggle” loose to take off my pants. Instead of following with my boxers and shirt, I went to the bag and got the sleepy pants I’d stuffed in there.

I slipped them on over my hips, “Well, good night.”

His mouth fell open and he jumped up. Showing me his pure brute strength, he tossed me onto the large bed and pulled my pj’s off in one fell swoop, “Asshole.”

“Yours.” I smirked back at him.

His eyes lit up, “All mine?”

“You betcha.” I grinned at the happy look on his face that he was clearly struggling not to show. After a moment, I pulled off my boxers and reached for his pants. He let me undress him, stroking and tugging at my hair a little roughly until they fell around his knees. My eyes widened when I realized he’d gone commando to the show tonight like he usually did to the gym and the thought caused me problems. He bent to kiss me and grabbed my hands to keep me from touching him.

Through a not-serious power struggle, we managed to make each other half crazy before the night was over. I stepped out a little later to have a cigarette and bumped into Jimmy and Zacky. Jimmy’s eyes were glazed and Zacky was stumbling. I arched an eyebrow, “You two got that fucked up?”

“Not me.” Jimmy grinned a crazy grin and I realized he was high, “Just Zacky. He’s dr-runk!”

“I’d bet. And you’re coked up.” I shook my head, “Give him here, go to your room with Leana and work that high off.”

He snickered and dropped Zacky at my feet, “Good idea.”

I picked Zacky up and started toward his room, him dragging his feet. He finally mumbled as I heaved him into his room (after a struggle of “where’s your key?” “pocket!” “which pocket?” “the bum-bum pocket, course!”), “You smell like lubeless sex, Bri-Bri.”

“What do you mean?” I dropped him down on his bed and started taking off his tennis shoes.

“You smell like blood, sweat, and sex. It’s kinda kinky.” He grinned at me and tugged at my hand to pull me toward him.

I swatted him off, “Yeah, Matt likes it rough and so do I so we don’t use lube. Now go to sleep. I’ll put you some Tylenol and water by your bed. Use them in the morning.” I set the trash can closer to him as I said this.

He shrugged, “’Kay. You know, Matt wouldn’t ever bottom with me. Does he bottom for you?”

I looked away. Of course not. In the end, Matt was the bigger of us two and he always fucked me.

He laughed, “So Synyster Gates, aka Brian Haner, Jr., really is the bitch in the relationship. Great. No wonder you didn’t want me.”

I resisted the urge to punch his drunken ass and walked out of the room, “Shut the fuck up, Zee, and get some sleep.”

Matt was standing at the door to our room when I came back. I pulled him down for a hard kiss and he moaned into it, backing into the room. I followed, kicking the door shut behind me. I wanted to push him down, demand what he wasn’t ready to give, and be a jerk but the way he slipped both arms around me and softened our kiss changed my mind. Fuck Zacky Baker and his drunken remarks!