Almost Famous

Groupie.

That was usually the name thrown at anybody who fucked a guy in a band. However Michael did not like that word. It wasn't nice.
The way he saw it: groupies sleep with the rockstars to be near somebody famous. He, well they, where there for the music. They inspired the music. They where band aids.

It was a lifestyle. He would meet up with the band, Shotgun Messiah, whilst they where in the city and travel around together. Tim Skold was the front man to the glam rock group the way Michael was the head of the 'band aids'. He was known. Everybody who managed to worm their way back stage and party with the rockstars had heard the stories of the infamous Michael.

It was casual though, a lot of fun. Freedom at its finest and as Michael always told the others; never take it seriously, if you never take it seriously, you never get hurt, you always have fun and if you ever get lonely just go to the record store and visit your friends.

Although a lot of people would hate that lifestyle Michael loved it and he was pretty sure Tim did too. A new city every day, no matter what was going wrong with the van or the place they where playing, it was mostly stress free. He got to travel and party with friends for months at a time - it was perfect.

The parties where always eventful. Everyone and extras had been sat around drunk, in the top of a fancy hotel partying with the rockstars. People staring and joking with the band, flirting too. Other musicians impressing girls, or guys. That was when Michaels work could be seen at its finest. That was when only a couple of the lesser experienced who looked up to the dark haired man would notice the magic at bay.

Tim would be sat, a empty drink close by. Michael would of course noticed this, he noticed everything about the older man. He was the lead singer, the star, he was Michaels and many others favorite. But them two had something special.
Tim had looked up, seeing his friend and smiling, getting a casual smile back and Tim swore Michael had the most seductive smile he had ever seen. But it was over too fast and the dark haired man would be looking else where, perhaps laughing at a joke close by. That, as noted by admirers, is when Michael had Tim hooked. They looked back again, holding the eye contact, ignoring the loud talking and the sound of Something In The Air playing in the background. Both staring, smirking. No words needed when they where connected by the looks. Now standing and walking out in unison. To each other.

They had gotten to an empty room, a random bed in a random city, like they had done a million times before. It never got boring though. Both throwing their shirts off as Tim would sit on the bed, still smirking at the younger man. They would have sex, Tim was unbelievable, he knew exactly where and how to touch to make Michael shudder and writhe in bliss. He made him feel euphoric.
It was sex. Friendship at best and every single time Michael would curse himself because somewhere through the waves and waves of pleasure, through the drunken thoughts would be that one. That one that was buried deep down but was sharp and bright and always there no matter how much he tried to hide it or lie about it. 'I love this man.'

It couldn't happen. It was like a fantasy. It was life on the road and they would go back to their normal lives and Michael knew deep down that everyone just thought he was a hopeless whore and that Tim would probably get married and this wouldn't last forever.
And that even then in that moment, even when they where screwing that it was hopeless and that Tim wouldn't ever love him.

But nobody really knows what he says to Michael in private. Nobody knows how different the huge rockstar, who 1000s of girls would kill for, is when he is around the younger man. Maybe it is love - as much as it can be.