The Reunion Party

After the latest Rob Zombie Tour the musicians enjoyed their well-deserved vacation. There was nothing to do for some time.
At a sunny Saturday John and Ginger decided to meet in their favorite bar. Both were quite good friends even though they meet each other permanently at work. Right from the start the musicians get along well, like brothers. They tolerate each other without any compromise.
Sometimes the behavior of the counterpart was not that easy to understand, so they used to talk a lot to avoid useless quarrels.
Such a strange situation appears now when Ginger mentioned the approaching reunion of the Marilyn Manson band.
For a few years Mr Manson used to invite his old members to his mansion every year what was fairly good in Gingers opinion.

- ~° @ ° ~ -

“You were there last year?”
“Well, yes... and the year before last.”
Ginger sips at his hot coffee carefully during noticing John's look of surprise.
“Really? You didn't tell me.”
The drummer is putting down his cup and chuckles. Now he seems to be a bit surprised.
“John, of course I did! I guess you had none of it.” He shrugs.
“Perhaps you were very busy this time. Never mind...”
John smiles and looks down fiddling with the spoon next to his coffee mug.

In fact, much has happened: He married his Rita he's still crazy for, he worked a lot with Rob and managed his own projects and ideas... Yes, it happened quite a lot.
But there was no reason to ignore with regard to Manson... John met him the other day at a show and they got on well with each other.

“Yeah, you're right. Sorry, but I'm a bit surprised by the fact you were at his party twice - without me!” John is laughing and shakes his head subsequently with a wave of the hand.
“Okay, then tell me how did it go last year?”
His friend is leaning forward whereupon his ponytail falls over his shoulder and a smirk flits across his face.
“Oh, I met a lot of guys I hadn't seen for a long time. Zimmy for example! He's fine... at least he was a year ago but I think he is still...”
Slowly Ginger stirs his coffee, adding some milk. He brushes back a strand of hair before continuing.
“He asked for you... Oh, greetings by the way.”
John immediately has to snicker. Sometimes his old friend is really a scatterbrain!
“Thanks, Ginger. Zimmy is a good guy. You got along with Manson?”
“Yeeah... yeah. I got along well with him but that's a matter of... you know. Since I'm not his employee anymore everything's okay. He becomes an asshole when we're together for more than two or three days...”
Also John started stirring his coffee with a jingling noise, now he's squinting his eyes because of the dazzling sun light as he looks up to Ginger. His light blonde hair seems to merge with his skin, only his slitted eyes and his burnsides were dark spots in his face.
“Ah, and I met Tim as well! Met him already at the party two years ago and he always wanted to know why you did not come aaaand...”
Ginger scratches his chin-beard looking out of the window frowning. He lost the plot actually.
After a minute of daydreaming he's looking back at John and hesitates. John's still squinting at him, still stirring his coffee. But the jingling noise got more vigorously by now.
“Ehm... what?”
The drummer gives him a weird look and he emphasizes it by taking a deep breath. Now he squints his eyes, too.
“John? Don't tell me that you refused the reunion party because of hit-”
The blonde guitar god gives Ginger a disarming stare but he immediately stops stirring his by now lukewarm coffee.
“No, what nonsense! I... I really didn't know of Manson's reunion party!...”
Ginger laughs out loud pointing at John with a knowing look.
“Ohoo-hooo! There's no denying in it, come on...”
John is blushing slightly, covering his eyes with his hand visibly annoyed. With a hard sigh he blinks at Ginger again. There's no return. Ginger read his face. Done again.
John hates this, especially in situations like that. There's simply no chance to hide any affairs – none.

He remembers when it nearly began. By the time they'd only been co-workers, there weren't many common interests or something like that. In fact, they're poles apart but John felt the tension from the beginning. It was an odd feeling he couldn't describe exactly.
After a show of the Grotesque Burlesk Tour Tim surprisingly started to massage Johns tensed up neck and shoulders as they chilled in the backstage area.
The impassioned guitarist didn't know why and he feels still a prickling on his skin when he thinking back to that situation.
John sat wiped out on an old leather couch while the other men just livened up. Manson destroyed furniture like all the time he was drugged up to the eyeballs and Pogo helped him eagerly.
Tim was chatting with any people who came around and where Ginger was – hell knows.
Anyway, the blonde super-brain-musician approached the couch – and John - without interrupting his conversation and then –
John remembers well, oh yeah: Tim wore a white, short-sleeved shirt, a black tie and black shorts. Of course black boots and sun-glasses he used to push up on his head. He hadn't seen it when Tim started to massage him of course but he likes retrieving this picture in his head every time he remembered this.
No one was taken aback by this adorable massage, last John himself. He just enjoyed this accurately working hands and at last he couldn't get around being a little aroused by that... or a little more. When Tim laughed about a dirty joke or something else during massaging, John felt it shaking via Tim's hands through his body. It was amazing!
The tie laid on his face when Tim bent down telling him how tensed up he was.
'Yes, I am' was all John mumbled against the tie.
'Relax. I'll exorcise the demons for you.' , Tim had murmured and laughed huskily in his right ear.
That gives John still the creeps.

“Goose bumps”, Ginger comments in an oddly way, raising an eyebrow.
“It's pretty warm, don't you think?”
Indeed, John sits in the glare of the sun, sweating with a red face but having goose bumps.
Ginger takes a sip, looking over the rim of his cup right at John.
John pushes down his sleeves blinking back and pursing his lips.
“No, I'm fine...”
The blonde man is still lost in thought so he can't react than usual. Finally Ginger is loosing his patience: He bangs his fist on the table so that the mugs and spoons are jingling madly and a bit coffee is slopping – maybe a little too loud because some guests are turning around to look who's making trouble. At last he leans forward even more.
“You fucked around with him and now you refuse to make contact with him! That's ridiculous, man!... You'll come along with me to this fucking party and you will fucking enjoy it! No matter who's there and what happens!...”
He wasn't stupid, so Ginger muffled his voice. Fortunately they sit sufficiently far away from other guests. Nevertheless John couldn't avoid to blush hard. Almost he had slapped his counterpart but he decides to keep calm, at least he's totally flabbergasted.
“How dare you! I mean... how do you know?!”

His counterpart knows well when he laid in his rather uncomfortable bunk...
The tour bus is rushing down the highway, it's fucking-early o'clock and he only wants to sleep. It's hardly possible for him to fall asleep because of the motor noise, the jerking and the narrow bunk. He almost drops off but an equivocally sound is disturbing him now.
It comes from the opposite bunk where's John's place to sleep. But it seems to be no longer a place to sleep...
Ginger imagines steady sounds, now and then a moaning. Two voices... both masculine. He pulls up his blanket over his head and turns around. The sounds are getting louder, mixing up with constant wheezing. Orgasm's oncoming.
Oh no, Ginger really doesn't want to know what's going on there! Automatically an inner porn movie in real-time forces on.
John cries out Tim's name but he's seemingly muted by the hand of the new band member. 'Sssshhh!...'
Ginger closes his eyes firmly and he's about to cover his ears when Tim orgasms audible just in this moment.
Retroactively Ginger asks himself if the others were witnesses of that, too. If they were, they didn't care or forgot about it. He can't but he really wants to!...

John looked a little contrite as he listened to Ginger's point of 'view'. Lost in thought he drops a sugar cube in his by now cold coffee and stirs it afterward.
“I'm sorry for that. He just crawled in my bunk and I couldn't throw him out...We had a really good time together...”
Ginger's sitting there, with half opened eyes, resting his chin on his knuckles.
“It cannot be questioned.”
“I... I never had feelings for a man before. He was and he is the only one.”
“He is?”
“Naah... you know what I mean! It's over since I left the band and we haven't seen each other since then. - Gosh, I don't want to meet him again!”
He covers his face with his hands embarrassed.
Ginger lets his arm down, grabbing for Johns.
“Johoon, what's up? I thought I know you!... You behave like a teenage girl.”
John's rolling his eyes before he glares at Ginger quite annoyed.
“His presence isn't good for me, I'll feel uncomfortable. Let's change the subject.”
Finally Ginger starts laughing.
“Oh man, I really can't believe that!...”
After a while he whips away some tears. John doesn't look very amused. He's raising an eyebrow coldly. Ginger just smiles innocently.
Suddenly something warm rests on his shoulder, John cringes immediately.
“Hey, John – hi, Ginge. What's up?”
The blonde man hasn't to turn around to look who'd spoken but he turns around all the same.
Tim smiles at him, wearing his sun-glasses. Behind him John spots his wife and nods to her afterwards.
“Hello...”
“I'm just persuading John to go at Manson's party next weekend” , Ginger chuckles.
“Great, you'll be there? We haven't seen for a long time! See you there.”
John imagined that Tim winks at him.
“Uhm, yes... I think so. Bye then.”
Tim pats his back smirking and waves to Ginger before he and his wife go on.
John blinks at Ginger.
“Now I have to” , he's saying dryly.
Ginger only nods smirking.
“Good guy Skold.”