Chapter 1: California Rain
Chapter Text
[An alternative music venue in Downtown Los Angeles, fall 1997]
I caught your eye almost immediately. Dressed all in black; leather pants and a leather shirt which clung to me just well enough to exhibit my slender yet toned body, and left my tattooed arms on full display. Platform combats, heavy black eyeliner and a Fender bass thrown over my shoulder. And the way I carried myself across the stage with a smirk of reserved confidence? I knew the girls would go wild for me, and the grin I wore as I stepped up to the mic conveyed just how much I loved the attention; I was more than used to it.
And there you were, sitting at the bar near the back of the dimly lit, smoke-filled club as I, Max California, played my heart out with the rest of Hard Spank… The lights beamed fiercely; illuminating my face from time to time as I strummed and yelled and sweated it out in front of a packed club filled with punk-rock music fans. When my set was over, you watched as I walked offstage to applause from the crowd and high-fives from my band.
You weren’t expecting to be noticed.
After a couple of minutes cooling down backstage, I departed from my band-mates and headed for the bar. I leaned casually against it. “Hey, I’m Max.” My voice was soft and calm; nothing like the rough, confident, anti-authoritarian voice of what you soon came to understand was my stage persona. But it caught you off-guard less for my placid tone and more for the fact I was even talking to you at all.
You glanced up from your empty glass and turned on the bar stool to look at me. My scruffy blue-black hair stuck down in places where the sweat beaded on my forehead. You watched me light a cigarette, and I offered you the packet but you shook your head; a simple no. Eventually, after what may have been an eternity – or perhaps it was just a few seconds – you managed to smile at me. “Max California, right?”
I took a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled the smoke up toward the ceiling, returning the packet to the back pocket of my pants. “That’s me.” A coy confidence was written all over my face and in the way I smirked back at you, taking in your eyes and your hair and your gorgeous smile. My own eyes glittered green in the glow of the spotlights which hung above the bar and as I moved closer to you, you took a deep breath and noticed the intoxicating aroma of fresh sweat, cigarettes and leather lingering on my body. “So, can I buy you a drink?”
And you nodded, looking like you were trying with everything you had to appear confident and self-assured but underneath it all you were anxious, and it showed in the way you swallowed hard and bit your lip. I smiled reassuringly and waved the bartender down and eventually you found the confidence to tell me your name along with a simple, “Vodka, neat.”
“Good choice. Make it two.” I placed the order and silence followed as I played with the cigarette between my lips and leant back against the bar. “So you’re here-”
“-you were really-”
We both laughed awkwardly. “You go.” I gestured for you to finish your sentence first.
You took a breath and I watched the way your fingers twisted around themselves and your eyes darted back and forth between them and my own penetrating gaze. “I was just, saying you were really great up there.” Your eyes fell upon the stage momentarily – where the next band was setting up – and you shrugged your shoulders lightly. “Like, really good.”
I smirked modestly. I always loved the praise, most of all from an attractive girl like you; the kind of girl I planned on bringing home with me that night and, it certainly made the endeavor easier knowing you were super into me. “Are you uh, here alone?” I threw a few dollar bills on the bar as the drinks arrived and you traced your finger around the glass anxiously.
“Not exactly. I mean, yeah, I am… Here alone that is… It’s just complicated.” You took a large sip of your vodka and I frowned at the complexity of your response, trying to establish if you were worth complicated.
You were. And I decided to bite. “Complicated how?”
Your face changed, abruptly, conveying a sudden urgency to find your way out of this conversation. “I’m sorry I should, I should probably go. It was nice to meet you, Max. And, and thanks for the drink.” It all happened so quickly I almost didn’t react at all but as you stood to leave, I reached out and against my better judgement grasped your arm a little harder than I probably should have, in an effort to keep you with me.
“Wait.” It was more of a demand than a request. “You’re really going to walk away?”
You stared down at the way my hand was gripping you tightly but I didn’t let go because something in my gut told me not to. “Max,” There was hesitation in your voice and sincerity in your eyes. You didn’t want to walk away, but you would anyway. “I’m not worth the trouble.”
And in that moment, I released my grasp and I moved back against the bar and I watched you walk away. Because trouble wasn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was a girl willing to go home with the lead singer of the band and have a little fun for the night. All I wanted was what I always wanted; a good hard screw with the first hot girl who was willing.
But that wasn’t what I got that night.
I slammed my drink down and I followed you out of the club and into the bustling streets of the L.A. night. “Hey, hey wait up!” I ran after you, hardly noticing it was raining until it was too late and we were both soaked to the skin. “What if I think you’re worth the trouble?”
You looked at me. And I looked at you. “What if I’m not?”
“Well, I kinda think that’s for me to decide.” I demanded, stubbornly.
You shook your head and with a condescending tone, tried to make my mind up for me. “I’m not. I’m not somebody you wanna be involved with, Max.”
I moved in closer; my breath grew heavy and my eyes darted back and forth from yours to the ground and back again. This wasn’t me. I didn’t need to pursue some chick from a bar that didn’t want me just because she was hot. But there I found myself not wanting to let you go as I moved myself closer and backed you up against a wall in the pouring rain. I leaned in closer; cigarette and vodka tainted breath hot against your skin. “I’m not gonna keep chasing you if you don’t want me to. God knows I could have any number of the women in that bar… But give me a reason. You owe me that much.” It was a stupid thing to say.
“I don’t owe you shit, Max California. Go find yourself a one-night stand. Go pick yourself up a groupie, you’d be better off.” I didn’t know if it was the rain, or if you really did have tears in your eyes as your voice trembled and you looked at me with some combination of disappointment and regret. And I saw it in your eyes as your heart broke. But it wasn’t breaking for me.
Cautiously, I touched your cheek. You flinched. I backed away. “What happened?”
“I have a boyfriend, Max... Had.” You leant back, closing your eyes for just a second.
“Had? As in, you broke up?” A perplexed smirk spread across my face and I shook my head, not understanding at first. “Then what’s the issue, baby? You’re both single he’s probably screwing around too…”
“No. It’s not like that.”
I took another step back and shoved my hands in my pockets, shrugging casually in the warm California rain. Something about you had me hooked from the moment I saw you watching me up on stage and I wasn’t about to walk away because some of complicated, bullshit situation with a may or may-not-be ex-boyfriend. “Let’s just…” I took a slow breath as I contemplated, hard, on whether to take a chance on you. “Do you wanna go someplace quiet? To grab a drink, I mean… We can talk about it.”
And that’s when I knew you felt it too. Something compelled you to go with me, like it was the right thing to do. So, you took a deep breath, too, and you nodded. And then we walked through the night in the pouring rain in comfortable silence until we reached a quiet dive bar some blocks away.
I held the door open for you, ordered a couple of beers, and you picked out a secluded booth in the corner of the bar. “You wanna tell me about this ex of yours?”
You shook your head with a gentle laugh as raindrops rolled down your face. My eyes lit up to see you smile, but it was a smile tainted with melancholy. “He uh, he’s an asshole. A major asshole. And we had a huge fight this evening and I walked out and he told me if I left right there and then…” I nodded reassuringly, encouraging you to go on. “Then that was it, and we were over.”
I took a sip of my beer and I watched you, trying to figure out what was going on in your head. Which in itself, was weird. Because I was never the type to be emotionally invested in a girl and her problems. “So… Do you regret walking out?”
This was the turning point. This was the moment I knew I didn’t want to let you out of my sight ever again. You shrugged off your jacket, and you couldn’t manage to look at me as I stared in dismay at what your actions admitted to me. You had marks and bruises on both of your arms; the kind of bruises that aren’t accidental. “Ask me again if I regret walking out…”
My eyes filled with a protective rage and genuine concern, and I leant closer across the table and reached out to take your hand. “Wait, he did that to you?”
“Max… If he knew I was here talking with you right now he’d do worse than that to you. I told you, I’m not worth the trouble.” And it was heart-breaking to see the look in your eyes as you covered yourself back up because it told me you really believed it was true; that you weren’t worth the trouble.
I leant back in my seat and lit a cigarette as I watched you, trying to figure out what the right thing to say was. But the way it came out was less than tactful. “So, do you wanna come back to my place tonight?”
You instantly jumped to the defensive. “Are you for real?”
“Wait, wait, baby I didn’t mean-” I let out a puff of smoke as I tried to backtrack immediately.
“I’m not your baby, Max. I’m not some two-bit whore who’s gonna jump into bed with you just because I broke up with my boyfriend-”
“Hey, hey, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean that. Hear me out. Please.” My eyes pleaded with you pretty hard in that moment to not walk away from me again. “I’m sorry.” You folded your arms and leant further back into your seat as I leant further forward. “What I meant to say was, do you need somewhere to stay?”
Reluctantly, you shook your head. “No.” But I knew it was a lie.
“You can’t go back to him.”
“I’ll find somewhere. I’ll find a motel.” You were so damned stubborn.
“Don’t be-” I refrained from calling you stupid, because it wouldn’t have ended well.
“Don’t be what?”
“Stubborn. Don’t be stubborn. I’m offering you a place to crash for the night, that’s all. It’s late, and it’s raining. And I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” I took a last long, slow drag on my cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray.
“I mean it, Max. if you’re looking for a one-night stand-”
“I’m not.” I was. At first, I was. All I wanted was to get in your pants... But then? I realize I wanted more than that. So much more. And I’d never felt like that about a girl before.
Chapter 2: Burnt Toast
Chapter Text
My apartment was kind of a – no, it was an absolute – dive. It was obvious from the moment you stepped apprehensively through the door behind me you thought as much. The smell of cigarette smoke was thick in the air, and the luminance of the cities night as it poured through the tall, obscured-glass windows – even accompanied by the dim yellow lamps inside – did little to brighten the dingy, open-plan space. The walls were lined with posters of various bands, guitarists and half – some fully – naked girls. The neglected kitchenette didn’t look like it’d ever been used for anything besides housing empty take-out containers and beer bottles and, regrettably, I didn’t even own a couch. The bed – a small double – was pushed up against the wall beside the door and in my defense had at least been made, and a television set stood facing it. A deep-mahogany bedside table sat between one of the windows and the bed, where a stack of well-read books and a few music magazines lay.
The only things worth anything to me in that whole apartment were my guitars. And then, you.
“So, um... You bring girls here often?” Your tone was dubious, like you doubted any girl would want to spend the night here out of choice, and your eyes continued to scan the chaotic and unkempt space – lingering momentarily on the section of wall plastered with Hard Spank fliers and posters.
I began peeling off my rain-soaked shirt and unlacing my boots, and I could feel your eyes on me the whole time. I didn’t mind, but I knew you’d feel differently were the roles reversed. I crossed the room with a confident gait and grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom, throwing one in your direction as you stood watching me and waiting for my answer.
“Oh, yeah, all the time.” That was the honest truth, but most certainly the wrong thing to say. “Well I just mean...” I could tell by your gaze as I stumbled around awkwardly trying to towel dry my hair whilst simultaneously tidying up around you, that you were less than impressed. “Look I’ve never had any complaints.”
But you were too tired to really care. You were shaking; wet through from the unanticipated rain storm and you were nervous; anxious; standing in the apartment of a stranger with nowhere else to go and nothing but the sodden clothes you were standing in. Abandoning my attempts to clear up empty bottles and discarded clothes from the apartment floor, I grabbed a clean, dark grey Rancid shirt and I handed it to you. “Sorry it’s not much, but here. Bathroom’s over there... Feel free to use the shower if you want to.” I reached out to touch you, but I thought better of it, instead trying to sound as comforting and reassuring as possible. “We’re gonna figure this out in the morning, alright? Bed’s yours. I’ve slept worse places than my own floor before now.”
And you took that band shirt, and you headed to the bathroom, and you looked at me from the doorway. You smiled. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye in the morning.
Once you closed the bathroom door I let out a deep sigh, lit a cigarette, and took a seat at the small, unkempt kitchen table littered with music magazines and empty cigarette packets. I told myself to get a grip; you were just some girl. Some chick who needed a place to crash and, in the morning, you’d probably hit up some girl-friend to stay with while you got your life back on track. But the thought of not seeing you again made my chest ache in a way I’d never experienced before. I kind of hated that feeling.
You emerged from the bathroom as I was half way through a second cigarette and when I looked up from the table, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’ll never forget the way you looked; lingering in the doorway with the hot shower steam rising around you and a towel between your hands as you dried off your damp hair. That Rancid shirt looked better on you than it ever did on me.
“I borrowed your shower gel. And deodorant... I hope that’s okay.” You walked further into the room and I nodded, dropping my cigarette into the glass ashtray and letting it burn out. You pulled the shirt down around you, and I figured you were probably just a little shy, which made absolute sense. But then I noticed the bruises on your inner thighs. I took a short breath and looked away pretending I hadn’t noticed.
“Hey there’s beers in the refrigerator, if you want one. You can put the TV on but... I don’t have cable. I’m gonna grab a shower.” The rain hadn’t done much to mask the smell of sweat from how hard I’d gone at the gig.
When I was done in the bathroom, you looked at me like I was a different person; I guessed, out of leather and eyeliner and wearing a loose black t-shirt and boxer shorts, I was maybe a little less intimidating? You smiled again. “I grabbed you a beer.” And you held it out to me from beneath the dark-burgundy sheets of my bed and I took it with a returning smile, glancing down at the floor as I tried to figure out how I’d make this work. “Hey, Max...” Your voice came uncertainly as you shuffled up under the sheets.
I was hesitant. “Yeah?”
So were you. “You don’t... Have to sleep on the floor.”
I’d said I’d be a gentleman and I meant it. “Oh, no I’m good.”
“Please.” With the way you said please, and the way you pulled the sheets back, I didn’t have the self-control to say no. That, and the floor really didn’t look too appealing.
So I took a long swig of beer and placed the bottle on the nightstand, and we laid down in the bed facing one another. You passed me your beer and I placed it next to mine as you tucked your hands under your head and made yourself comfortable. You looked adorable. I looked enamored. For a long moment, all we did was look at each other.
But the image of those bruises played on my mind. Eventually, I broke the silence. “Do you love him?”
“No.”
“Did you love him?”
“Once.”
I decided to take the chance and I touched your bare arm, lightly, very lightly, stroking my fingers over your tender and bruised skin. I was bad at relationships and I’d never made one work; in honesty, I’d never even tried to make one work… But I couldn’t comprehend why anyone would do that to a woman; much less a woman they claimed to love. You deserved better. “So, why’d you stay with him?”
Your eyes left mine and you shivered at my touch. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“Well now you’ve got me.” I hesitated. I wasn’t trying to push anything and I made that clarification. “As a friend. I mean, I’m here and I wanna help… If you want me to.”
“You’re sweet… But I can’t stay here.”
“I know it’s… This apartment is shitty. I know that. But just until you find some place to stay… The offer’s there.”
“I hardly know you.”
That much was true. We knew nothing about each other. But I wanted to change that and I knew you did too. “Do you like me?”
“What?”
“Do you think I’m an asshole?”
“No. I don’t think you’re an asshole. I think you’re… I do like you. But I’m not ready for-”
“-I’m not asking if you’re ready for anything, I’m asking if you like me.”
You smiled shyly and I couldn’t help the smirk that presented itself. “Yeah, Max California. I like you.”
“I like you too. And that’s enough right now.”
“I feel like I ruined your evening.”
I frowned. This certainly wasn’t the way I’d expected the evening to go but I considered it far from ruined. “Well… You didn’t.” I smiled coyly. “I still ended up in bed with a beautiful girl so, I’d call that a pretty successful fucking night.”
And then, as my fingers brushed the hair from your face and lingered on your skin for a moment too long you admitted to me for the first time, “I think I want to kiss you.”
It might’ve been the hardest decision of my life turning you down. “No, you don’t. That’s the beer and the vodka talking. And my boyish charm.” I bit my tongue with another smirk before taking a long breath and growing serious again. “I mean it when I say I like you. You’re not like any other girl-”
“-Yeah right-”
“-No. I mean it. I’ve been with a lot of girls – and I’m not proud of that, by the way. I’m just telling you how it is. I pick up girls. We get drunk… Sometimes we get high, and the sex is, really hot. But then it’s over. And I don’t care. I’ve never cared but you… I don’t want that with you. I don’t want to be drunk and screw and then never see you again.”
I watched you try to process everything I was telling you. I was right there with you, trying to process my own feelings – feelings I’d never had before. “I’ll be sober in the morning. What if I told you then… That I still want to kiss you?”
“Then? Maybe I’ll let you kiss me.” I looked honestly into your eyes as they slowly drifted closed, and I stroked your arm gently as you fell asleep. No, this wasn’t the night I had in mind. This was better. This was... Something meaningful.
Beams of glittering sunlight streamed through the windows early the following morning. I tried to let you sleep for as long as you needed but you were soon woken by the smell of burnt toast. “Morning, gorgeous...”
It took you a moment to remember where you were as you rolled over and stretched out on my bed. I watched from the edge of the kitchen as the sheets came down and the shirt I lent you rode up; your slender legs, your toned stomach – that little black G-string – all completely on display… I almost dropped the plate of toast. “What time is it?”
Regaining my composure – but still wondering if you were doing it deliberately – I made my way back to bed with breakfast in the form of overdone toast and two glasses of orange juice. “It’s just after eight... Sorry, I know it’s early. I gotta be at work at midday and...”
You sat up, pulling the sheets back around you and leaning against the wall while I passed you a glass of orange. “... And I should go. It’s okay.”
I frowned as my soft voice conveyed a gentle yet firm, “No.” I chuckled under my breath and looked back up at you. You were like a deer caught in headlights; not knowing what to do or in which direction to go. You were terrified of whatever came next whether you left this apartment or not. “We’re gonna go get your stuff.” I’d made my mind up, and I casually held out the plate of toast as you considered my words carefully. “Here, those pieces are, less burned.”
“What are you talking about, get my stuff?” You tentatively took a half-slice of buttered toast but you didn’t eat it; instead you simply stared at me.
“I told you, you’re staying with me... I’m not taking no for an answer.” My tone was playful, but determined, and I bit into my breakfast with a smirk, still unable to take my eyes off you.
“And I told you I don’t want to be a problem... I really appreciate you letting me stay last night,” You also appreciated how I hadn’t tried to take advantage of your inebriated state. “But I can find a motel.”
“You’re hardly a problem. Let me help you. C’mon, I wanna help.” There was no way I wanted to let you go.
“Okay...” You sighed, defeated, and started on your toast. “Okay you can help me grab my stuff but then I’m gonna find some other place to stay.” It was a start, so I nodded in agreement and continued eating. “My boy-” There was a note of discomfort in your voice as you corrected yourself. “My ex should be at work by nine... So, he won’t be around.” I nodded and offered you another piece of toast. You took one, looking at me thoughtfully. “You said you had work... The band thing isn’t full time then?”
I chuckled with a disappointed shake of my head. “Hard Spank? Nah... I wish it was full time. Know anyone who owns a record label? We aren’t even signed...” It sucked we weren’t signed. I poured my heart and soul into my music but we weren’t getting very far besides infrequent gigs at local clubs.
You shook your head. “You’ll make it. You’re honestly insanely talented.” I felt my cheeks flush. I loved to be complimented on my music. “So, what’s the nine to five?”
I swallowed down my mouthful and then I took a deep breath with an awkward glance, and I shrugged my shoulders in a way that conveyed I felt a little uncomfortable admitting my current employment situation. “It’s less a nine to five and more a midday 'til midnight deal but uh, I work at an adult bookstore.” Placing the plate on the nightstand I picked up my cigarette packet and lighter and I lit up. I felt nervous and slightly ashamed explaining what I did to make ends meet, but the smoking helped to keep the nerves in check.
You frowned as you tried to process exactly what I meant. “Bookstore?”
“You never been to an adult bookstore?” I raised an eyebrow and took a long drag.
You shook your head and watched me exhale sideways. “I don’t, think so.”
Your innocence was endearing. “Porn. I sell porn magazines to perverts and weirdos... Movies, sex toys... There’s even, girls working out back... I know it’s a shitty way to make a living but it’s work. And it beats pumping gas, you know?” I tried to justify it, and twisted the cigarette anxiously between my fingers.
You hesitated, and then touched the back of my hand. My gaze immediately lifted and fixed on yours and although your touch calmed my nerves a little it also made my breath quicken and my heart beat faster. “You thought that would bother me, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t it?”
“It’s a job. I mean... You’re not making porn movies, right? You’re just-”
“-Just pointing the way... I don’t wanna be there forever.” I didn’t make porn. I didn’t even watch it – well... Not much. I just sold it.
You smiled and my heart melted. “You got me beat, anyway... I’m kinda, between jobs. I guess.” You shifted awkwardly and let go of my hand. “I was waitressing for a bit... I hated every second of it.”
“You’re too pretty for waitressing anyway.”
You shook your head with a shy smile and looked down. “That’s what I told myself when I moved here... I wanted to get into modelling or... Look I realize now I was naive and dumb but I moved to L.A. thinking, I’d become some big movie star or something.” Your tone was dejected and your expression conveyed your lack of confidence in yourself.
“Look at me.” I touched my fingers lightly under your chin, and the smoke from the cigarette still resting between them drifted over you as I held your gaze. “You aren’t naive. You aren’t dumb. You just didn’t get your big break yet. Yet. And believe me I know how that feels... What are you, like twenty? You got all the time in the world to make it.”
You shrugged. “Twenty-two.”
“Listen, with a body like yours... You could do anything you wanted. That’s a fact.”
A modest smirk settled on your lips. I loved to see you smile. “You think so?”
“Babe, I know so.” Resisting the urge to kiss you was almost too much to bear, but if I kissed you, I knew it wouldn’t stop there… So, I took a deep breath, and I pulled my eyes away from you and I slipped off the bed to get properly dressed. “C’mon, we’ll go get your stuff and then I’ll buy you a decent breakfast…”
Chapter 3: Promises
Chapter Text
We took a taxi across town to your ex’s place; you were anxious and I could tell. As we pulled up outside I told the cab driver to give us ten minutes; you wouldn’t need long to pack a couple of bags. I stood at the foot of the steps which led to the apartment building and kicked at the bottom step, puffing on my cigarette. “Hey, did you want me to come in or – I can just wait here, if you want?”
“I’ll be okay.” You glanced back over your shoulder as you headed in and I nodded silently, leaning against the black metal railings outside the building.
Ten minutes passed and I started to debate whether I should go and check on you. I was restless; smoking; pacing up and down. I rubbed my fingers across my temple and eventually made the decision to head up the steps but as I reached the door it swung open and you appeared; in a fresh set of clothes and with a large duffle bag filled with your belongings weighing down your shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I was about to come check on you. He wasn’t home, right?”
You shook your head and smiled gently as I took the bag from you and carried it to the taxi cab. Everything had gone smoothly; we’d gotten your stuff and you were safe with me. I opened the door to the taxi and –
“Hey, hey!” A voice called out your name from behind us and I turned to see an irate and aggressive-looking guy headed threateningly in our direction. I slammed the car door and dropped the bag, flicking my cigarette onto the sidewalk. “What the fuck? What in the fuck are you doing?”
Instinctively I put myself between you and him. He was bigger than me, and there was a rage in his eyes that told me this was your ex-boyfriend, without me even having to ask. “Woah, woah, woah… Okay, hold up, take a breath, man.”
He was glaring right through me. “Get out of my way.”
I smirked. It was an involuntary, nervous, gut-reaction as I attempted to be as assertive as possible. “Uh, look, I’m not moving out of the way. She doesn’t wanna know you, buddy.”
“Jake, y- you need to just leave me alone.” Your voice was shaking as you spoke and I felt a responsibility to protect you from Jake.
His fury-filled gaze moved from you, to me, and then back to you. “I don’t know who the fuck this punk thinks he is, but you better get your whore ass back in that fucking apartment or I swear to God-”
“Hey back off!” I started to lose my shit when I heard him call you a whore.
Jake seemed to take instant offence with me, and before I could react he had me by the collar of my shirt. I clenched my jaw and grasped at his wrists as I tried to pull him off me and he spat, “You wanna tell me who the Hell you are and what you’re doing with my girlfriend?”
Frantically you stepped out from behind me and tried to push him off of me. “Jake! Jake let him go he’s no one, okay he’s just no one!”
He stared me in the eyes and eventually released his grip. “Too right he’s a no one… Punk-ass piece of shit. Now get inside, we got some talking to do.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t like the way you referred to me as no one but I knew it was only to try and protect me. I glared at him. And then in a quiet voice and through gritted teeth I muttered, “She’s not going anywhere.” I gripped your hand and pulled you back behind me. “And she’s not your girlfriend anymore, asshole.”
“The fuck did you just say to me?”
“You heard me. You’re an asshole. And she’s not your girlfriend.” I grinned provokingly. “Not anymore.” I was about to get myself beaten up pretty fucking badly and we all knew it. I didn’t know if it was courage, or stupidity, or just my growing infatuation with you that had me on the offense at that point. But I took a bold swing and my fist collided with the side of his jaw and sent him reeling.
“Max stop it, it’s not worth it! I’m not worth it!” I heard your voice but I didn’t pay any attention to your words as you tried to pull me back and I shrugged you off. The impact of my fist against his face had jarred my knuckles and I shook my hand out as I dodged a returning blow – and at that point the taxi decided to take off, avoiding the altercation altogether.
“You know that little cunt is right? She ain’t worth shit. And you wanna get your ass beat for that worthless-”
“-You shut your fucking mouth!” I took another swing and missed as his own balled-up fist smacked me square in the face. I was spitting blood. But I wasn’t going to let him talk about you like that. And I wasn’t going to let him hurt you. Not ever again.
I heard him laugh as I wiped the blood from my face and he backed up a little. He glared threateningly at you again. “You’ve been fucking him? You’ve been sleeping with this sorry looking piece of shit?”
“No!” You yelled desperately; and honestly. “No, Jake, we didn’t. I swear, I haven’t-”
I staggered upright again and made sure I was still firmly planted between the both of you. “It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s sleeping with me or not.” I growled lowly. “You’re an abusive asshole, Jake. And you need to back down. She told me what you did to her. I’ve seen what you did to her.” I could taste blood as I spoke. “I’m not letting you touch her again.”
Unexpectedly, and as though he realized I was serious and that you weren’t going to do as he was demanding, his demeanor changed and he approached the situation from a whole different angle, practically begging you to stay with him. “C’mon, baby… I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean those things so… Just, let’s just go back inside, we can talk about this. I’m not gonna be mad, I promise.” And he held out his hand like the idiot really believed you would take it.
You were shaking; breathing hard and sobbing as silently as you could manage but I could hear it, and I held out my arms and took another step back, protecting you from him completely as you spoke out. “No, Jake. You told me we were done. You don’t own me.”
Gently, I took your hand in mine. By this point, people in the street had started to stare and we all knew there was nothing else he could do. This was over.
He clenched his jaw; flexed his fists; swallowed hard and took a step back. Resentfully, he spoke again through gritted teeth, “You’ll regret this; fucking around with a loser like him.”
I took a deep breath and spat blood at the ground as I scowled at him, but I resisted the urge to start brawling again. I pulled you in closer to me, putting my arm around you protectively as I reached down to throw your bag back over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on him the entire time. “Let’s get out of here.”
I guessed it could have been worse. My nose was bleeding but not broken, and my bottom lip was split and bruised but at least he hadn’t knocked my teeth out. We ended up walking the whole way back to my apartment because no taxi would stop for someone who looked like me and was covered in blood. But you were okay and that’s what mattered to me.
We climbed the stairs to my third-floor apartment and when we got inside I dropped your duffle bag on the ground and you instantly pulled me into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, Max, like I’m really sorry... You should never have come back there with me.” You sat me down on the edge of the bathtub and turned to grab a clean towel but I caught your wrist with my hand, calmly wrapping my fingers around you and holding you there.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I pointed at my bloodied face and frowned. “You don’t think he would’ve done this to you if I hadn’t been there?”
“You didn’t deserve that and you didn’t need to get involved...” Your eyes conveyed a pained regret as you pulled yourself away from me and took the towel, wetting it in the basin. “It’s not that I’m not thankful. I am. The way you stood up to him and…” But you genuinely thought it should have been you and not me. “I tried telling you last night, I’m not worth it.”
“He really did a number on you...” Clearly this guy had gotten into your head and made you think you were worth so much less than you were. And I hated that, so I allowed you to wipe the blood from my face with shaky hands before I gently stilled them, and guided you down onto your knees in front of me. “Listen to me.” I leant forward; my shoulders curved and my head bowed as my eyes locked on yours and you looked up at me from the floor. “You are worth me getting my ass kicked a hundred times over. You’re beautiful, and considerate, and smart... And I know you’re gonna make it big in Hollywood someday.” I grinned encouragingly. “That abusive jackass is out of your life, babe... And, everything’s gonna be good from now on.” I leant closer so our foreheads were almost touching. “I promise.”
“Max?” Your voice came softly; almost a whisper. Your gaze fell from my eyes to my lips. “If I told you now, I still wanted to kiss you... Would you let me?”
I wanted nothing more from the very moment I’d set eyes on you and suddenly it just felt right. My heart thudded violently in my chest and I closed my eyes. I’d never been this hesitant with a girl before; but it was because I didn’t want to mess this up. “If I let you kiss me... I’d have to kiss you back... And if I kissed you back, I might not be able to stop.”
My grip was still around your wrists; loosely holding onto you and I could feel your hands spread against my thighs as you moved up and closer to me. I moved my fingers along your arms and higher, slipping them over your shoulders and underneath your jacket, pushing it from you. And I twitched as your hands moved away from my thighs but then, you were touching me again; fingers grazing my stomach; creeping over the breast of my bloodied shirt as you lifted your face closer toward mine and I slipped my hands through your hair and around the back of your head. You closed your eyes and I closed the gap between us.
And it was beautiful. It was delicate and tender and barely there but it was fucking beautiful. I could tell you were being mindful not to kiss me too hard because of my busted lip but my desire to have you was far greater than any discomfort or pain I was feeling and so I kissed you harder. I pressed my mouth firmly against yours and I leaned in to you. Your hands moved higher and around my neck and we pulled each other up as our lips grew more accustom to each other. And you dragged me back with you and instinctively I moved my body against yours, pinning you against the doorframe.
But with every ounce of self-restraint I could gather, I eventually pulled away from you, breathlessly, and stared across the apartment toward the digital clock that sat on the bedside table and read 11:23am. I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Babe… I have to go to work. You have no idea how much I want to-” I pressed my hips against yours and my enthusiasm was obvious… “But I have to go to work.” You stared at me with your lips parted. You wanted me. I wanted you. You looked away and placed your hands against my chest to gently play with the neckline of my shirt.
“Do you really have to?” Your voice was laced with desire and discontent.
“If I don’t go to work I don’t get paid.” I leaned closer again and my lips toyed with yours momentarily. “I gotta make rent, babe. Promise me you won’t be gone when I get home?”
“I don’t… I don’t know-”
“C’mon, one more night… And if you still wanna leave in the morning I won’t stop you.” I guided your head up so you’d look at me and I smiled tenderly as my eyes begged you not to go.
“Max…”
I kissed you again; slowly; smoothly; not giving you the opportunity to tell me you might be gone when I got back. “Please, baby… Let me take care of you for one more night.” I bit my lip with a playful smirk. “Let me really take care of you…”
Then you kissed me back, smiled playfully and quietly agreed. “Okay… I’ll be here when you get back.”
I grinned so widely I felt my bottom lip start stinging again. “I promise you won’t regret it.” You sighed deeply as I pushed up from the doorframe, took off my blood-stained shirt and headed out of the bathroom to grab a clean one. Then I pulled out my wallet and produced a ten-dollar bill. I held it out to you. “I owe you breakfast. There’s a place across the street that does great fucking bagels… Or, whatever you want.”
You hesitated to take it. “Yeah, no it’s okay, I can, I can buy my own breakfast, thanks anyway…” You felt understandably awkward.
“Come on, just take it. I told you breakfast was on me this morning. Get yourself something to eat.” I chuckled apologetically as I spoke. “There’s uh, literally nothing in that refrigerator worth eating unless you’re looking for beer or two-day old takeout. Which I definitely would not recommend.”
With reluctance, you took the money and thanked me. I opened up a drawer in the kitchen and rummaged around for a few moments, and then also handed you a spare key to my apartment. “I won’t be late. Okay, I’ll, I don’t know, I’ll close up early. Just…” I ran my fingers through your hair and held your gaze for as long as I could. “Make yourself at home, okay? Whatever you want.” I pulled away and headed for the door. “Just be here when I get back.”
“I promise, Max.” And then I was gone.
Chapter 4: Tell Me
Chapter Text
I arrived home around ten thirty in the evening, after making the decision to shut the store a couple of hours early. And I almost could have mistaken it for the wrong apartment. I closed the door and leaned back against it, observing silently. The kitchen was clean; void of its usual discarded takeout containers and beer bottles. The table was clear; magazines and books were stacked or placed neatly on their shelves. There were no heaps of clothes or piles of dishes or empty cigarette packets laying around and, the whole apartment smelled kind of, fresh.
And there you were; sitting on the kitchen countertop sipping a beer, in nothing but a tank top and a scant pair of underwear whilst you flicked through an old issue of Rolling Stone Magazine. I stared at you, and you looked at me; your face done up and your hair looking perfect and your eyes outlined with black. You were a dream. “You did all this?” I gestured at the apartment and then pulled off my boots and socks; even the carpet felt fresher beneath my feet. Slowly, I approached you.
You lowered the magazine and shrugged. “It’s the least I could do, really… You let me stay here and after this morning-” You paused and lowered the magazine and the beer as I reached you. I stood in front of you, hesitating to touch your thighs. I could feel the heat rising in me as I took you in because you just looked so damn inviting sitting there like that with your legs slightly parted and your cleavage on full display… But you’d cut your sentence short as you took in my appearance. “Max your eye-”
“It’s nothing. It’ll be fine in a couple days.” Over the course of the day, I’d developed an unpleasant bruise around my left eye from the earlier thump to the face. I looked down in an attempt to hide it but you reached up and touched my cheek gently, bringing my gaze back to yours. “You really cleaned this shithole? You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Besides it was, pretty rank, Max.” You smirked and I moved to stand closer between your legs, gripping the countertop either side and leaning into you.
I shrugged and my lips curled. “It wasn’t that bad… So, does this mean you’re staying?” Your hands moved to the back of my neck and slowly down to my shoulders as I moved even closer.
“It was that bad.” You hesitated. “Do you… Really want me to stay? I told you I don’t want to get in the way…”
I looked honestly into your eyes and I smiled. “Hey, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.” I shook my head. “And you won’t get in the way.”
I watched, mesmerized, as your tongue traced your bottom lip and you raised your eyebrows, considering how to answer. “I don’t know, I guess… It depends.”
My gaze travelled back to your lips and I moved close enough you could feel my breath on your neck. “On what?”
“On how well you’ll take care of me…”
I exhaled sharply, forgetting for a moment how to breathe and I knew exactly what you were implying. So, I took one hand off the counter and tenderly wrapped it around your waist, grasping you gently as I progressively eliminated the gap between your lips and mine and then I whispered decisively, “Babe, you’ll never want to leave this apartment again…”
I didn’t want to hold back a moment longer; I had to have you and the feeling was mutual; you wanted me. The air was heavy; thick with desire and so I held you by the waist and I pulled you against me as the space between us concluded. Your lips connected with mine and despite the urgency of our inclinations, we took things at a steady pace; I needed this to mean something.
We kissed slowly. Open mouthed and breathing steadily and my hands moved gradually along the outside of your thighs, encouraging your legs around my hips in an effort to get even closer to you.
“Tell me, you want me.” I demanded, apprehensively. “Tell me I’m not just the rebound guy.” I needed clarification of what this was for you.
You shook your head lightly. Our eyes met and you responded in a hesitant whisper, “Tell me I’m not a one-night stand.”
“You’re not...”
Then I wrapped my arms tightly around your back and lifted you from the counter top, and we stumbled the short distance across the apartment – unable to take our hands – or our lips – off of one another – until we reached the bed, where I managed to stop kissing you just long enough to pull my shirt over my head and then guide you down onto the mattress.
You arched under me as I fell down above you. My mouth found your neck whilst my hands slipped underneath your tank top, and pushing it further up your body I urged you, “Take it off...”
You did as I asked, and I took a short moment to appreciate just how perfect you looked laying beneath me, and then my mouth was back on you; teasing and tasting your skin as I moved myself lower and kissed your breasts.
Your chest was rising and falling at an accelerated rate but I knew it wasn’t just arousal; you were nervous. But I didn’t want you to be. “Do you need me to take it slower?” I looked up to gauge your reaction but you simply shook your head. I didn’t want you to do anything you weren’t ready for, but I wanted you so badly I would have found it hard to stop myself; but you didn’t tell me to stop. Without further hesitation I continued to kiss each of your breasts, burying my face against you to lick and suck at your tender flesh and hardened nipples.
I kept going; lower and lower; leaving a trail of hot kisses over your body as I explored every inch of your skin. I kissed your hips and spread your legs and teased my hands along the inside of your thighs but then I felt you tense; and not from pleasure.
I stilled myself. “Do you need me to stop?”
“No.” You took a deep breath. “I just...”
But I understood without you having to tell me. “He hurt you... I know, baby. Let me make it okay again.” I lowered myself, and my lips gently caressed your bruised thighs.
And God knows I liked it rough and I could be a merciless and dominating lover when I wanted to be. I could have shown you that side of me. But the thought of doing anything in that moment that could’ve caused you even the slightest of pain or discomfort absolutely destroyed me. Now wasn’t the time for aggressive and ruthless fucking. All I wanted was to right the wrongs and show you how good I could make you feel. I wanted to make love to you.
I continued to kiss gently along your inner thighs, and I ran my fingers softly over your skin until I reached the thin fabric of your underwear. And I kissed you there, feeling the warmth of your arousal and within seconds I was sliding them down and off of you, discarding them to the floor and leaving you vulnerable and exposed to me.
You stared down at me with anticipation, shifting your hips as your arms lifted above your head and I guided you a little further up the bed. I gazed with intent at the way you were spread out before me, and an unintentional groan escaped me as thoughts passed through my mind of all the things I could do to you; the games I could play and the brutal satisfaction I could inflict... I had to remind myself that wasn’t what you needed.
Instead I laid down between your legs and lifted them over my shoulders, tenderly gripping your hips. And then I tasted you. Your breath caught in your throat and a soft whimper escaped you as my tongue parted your lips and grazed over your wet heat. I spread you further, and delved deeper into your core to taste more of you. I licked and I sucked and I massaged your sweet spot, coaxing your release but taking my time; nothing needed to be rushed.
And you writhed under my every movement; I was relatively well practiced and knew exactly what I was doing. I leant up a little, repositioning myself and bringing my fingers to you; my firm and deliberate movements making you moan gently between heavy breaths. I watched your expression as I slid the tip of my middle finger into you, and I smirked devilishly as I drove further in and you gasped more audibly. I moved and pressed deeper inside you, bringing you nearer the edge and when I pushed a second digit inside and leant down to place my mouth over you again, I knew you were almost there.
Your breath quickened; your eyes were closed; your hands gripped the sheets and I could feel your whole body submit to me as I drove you to the edge. My free hand moved around your hip to hold you down by your stomach and I felt your thighs tensing against my shoulders as you surrendered to immeasurable pleasure. And I couldn’t help but love the moans I elicited from you when you came; your body trembling beneath me; because of me.
I smirked as you convulsed slightly when I removed my fingers. Then I carefully lowered your legs, and I sat up on my knees to unfasten my jeans. Panting fervently, you opened your eyes and I pushed my jeans and boxers down around my knees and before you could speak I pressed back down on top of you and kissed you, hard.
You could feel my firm length rubbing up against you; I was eager to be inside of you, but, you stopped me. “Max, wait.”
I let out a disgruntled huff. “You’re kidding?”
“No, I want to. But don’t you think we should… I mean you have condoms, right?”
I understood. I really did. You wanted to play it safe so I tried to reassure you. “I promise you it’s fine. I’m clean, babe.” And I tried to go back to kissing you but you were insistent.
“Max.”
I sighed in frustration again. “Honestly, I am-”
You pushed back against me and, frustrated as I was, I didn’t hesitate to stop again as you spoke. “Yeah, good for you. So am I, but I’m not on birth control.”
I bit my lip and rolled my eyes. I’d been too lost in the moment to think about that. “I’ll pull out.”
But you it wasn’t enough for you. “C’mon, Max…”
“Shit… Really? Okay, fine. It’s fine… Just, give me a second.” I lifted myself up and moved forward, placing my knees either side of your body so I could reach over you to the drawer behind the bed, where I knew there’d be a box of condoms.
As I leant over you I felt your hands on my body. You ran your palms and your fingers over my chest and shifted down lower under me; moving downward until your fingers brushed over my cock. I let out a gentle groan and tried to steady myself, balancing on one hand as I reached into the drawer with the other. I managed to retrieve what I needed, and I looked down as you wrapped your hand around me and very slowly began to tease.
But it didn’t stop there. You shifted a little further under me, and raised yourself on your elbows to lick the underside of my keen and eager cock. I pushed back up from the bed so I was more upright, gaining you better vantage, and I had no intention of deterring you as you took me fully into your mouth, since that was what you wanted... I smirked and my eyes rolled back at the incredible sensation. “Oh… Shit…”
You swallowed around me, gripping my thighs for balance as you hollowed your cheeks and took me as deep as you were able. And I groaned contentedly, dragging my fingers through your hair and holding onto the back of your head as you pleasured me. “Shit… Babe, if you don’t stop I’m gonna come…” I thought it was only fair to give you warning. Some girls didn’t like the taste of a guys come in their mouth; some girls got off on it… I didn’t know which applied to you.
You looked up and made eye contact, releasing me from your mouth for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”
I shook my head honestly and answered your question with a grin. “Not really.” Fuck no, I didn’t want you to stop.
You took that as permission to keep going until I reached the point of no return which in all honesty, didn’t take long; because I’d spent the last twenty-four hours driving myself crazy thinking about you and all the different things we could do together. And when I came, the sound that passed my lips was somewhere between a groan and a soft whimper of gratification. I gripped your hair in my fists and rolled my hips gently into you as every muscle in my body clenched and I jerked against you, spilling my warm release into your mouth. And it turned me on even more to see you swallow it.
I pulled away to fall down beside you, trying to catch my breath, and I could tell you were wondering if I was totally spent or if there was more. There was always more. “I just need a minute…” I grinned, and reached up to grab the condom from the pillow behind me while simultaneously kicking my jeans the rest of the way off.
We laid there together in the shadowy luster of my apartment; the tall, obscured glass window above us allowed flashes of red and white to move periodically across the walls – the results of traffic from the city’s streets three stories below.
Our bodies were pressed together, hot and sweating, as we breathed the same air and kissed gently and endlessly and tasted ourselves on one another’s lips. You ran your hands through my hair and down my neck; across my shoulders and over my chest. I wrapped my arms around your back and pulled you on top of me. I looked deep into your eyes, and I smiled. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Do you know that?” You smiled shyly and tried to hide you face. “Hey, hey, hey.” I wasn’t going to let you do that. “I mean it. You, are beautiful.”
You leaned down to kiss me again, before rolling away and guiding me back on top of you. I settled my hips between your thighs and our eyes locked together. I knew that look and I knew what you wanted before you could say it. “Make love to me, Max California.”
I didn’t need convincing. I tore open the condom wrapper and slid it on without hesitation. I laid right down over you and you wrapped your legs around my waist. I moved forward with one hand on your thigh, whilst the other held you face delicately. I stroked your cheek, softly, and with my thumb I touched you lips, and I leant down to kiss you again as I pushed into you.
With one gentle yet firm stroke I moved all the way inside, groaning needily against your mouth at the sensation as I took you slowly. And you returned my groans of fervor, inhaling sharply at the feeling of fullness I provided you.
I started to move; taking my time and rolling my hips at a moderate and calculated pace. Our lips continued to brush as we kissed somewhat carelessly; a consolidation of sensual moans and ravenous mouths and heated breath and damp sweat. There was no better feeling in the world. I moved my mouth to your ear and as I rocked against you, driving a little harder with each thrust, I growled, “You feel so fucking good, baby…”
My words made you moan and your moans made me weak. I moved faster and harder, not meaning to rush anything but not being able to stop myself either, and you only encouraged it when you urged me, “Harder, Max, harder.” And I was more than happy to oblige as I kissed you again and then picked up my pace.
“I’ve been thinking about this…” My words came roughly as we walked the fine line between love-making and fucking. “About you… All day.” I was trying hard to control myself. “About all the things I could do to you… If you’d let me…” You whimpered at my words and I swallowed hard, regaining some composure as I continued to drive us both toward our ends.
I clenched my jaw, and lifted my head in an attempt to acquire air. I could tell from your moans and the tightening of your body around every inch of mine and the way you rolled you hips in time with mine, that you were about to come, again. You looked up at me, lips parted, and you tried to form words but all that escaped you was my name; scarcely a whisper between uneasy breaths.
“Let go, c’mon baby, let go for me.”
And you did. On my command, you came.
As I felt your every muscle contract around me it only encouraged me to fuck you harder. You fell apart beneath me; gasping and whimpering; convulsing and shuddering; not wanting the euphoric sensation of this all-consuming pleasure to ever end. Not ever.
Then my voice cracked and I let out a guttural and gratified moan as I followed you right over the edge and into ecstasy. I was panting hard, unsteady and shaking, and I engaged you in a couple more substantial thrusts before collapsing on top of you.
For a long while, neither of us spoke. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to move. Until finally, I lifted my head to look at you and unable to hide the smile that crept across my lips I asked, “So, tell me, are you gonna stay?”
You smiled back at me, expelling a gentle laugh as you placed a hand on my face and lightly caressed my cheek. “Well… You do make a pretty persuasive argument.” You bit your lip teasingly and I leant down to kiss you, rolling my hips back into you and eliciting another soft sigh before pulling out and lifting myself up to roll onto my back beside you.
I exhaled deeply, reaching down to retrieve my jeans for the cigarettes and lighter buried in my back pocket. You gazed at the dreary gray ceiling as I lit up, and you watched the lights from the city continuing to dance across the apartment walls. Eventually, I looked at you. “So, that’s a yes, then?”
You turned onto your side and without thinking I lifted my arm around you. You placed your head on my chest; listening to my heart beat slowing as I held you and I took a long drag from my cigarette. And you smiled again. “Yeah… I guess that’s a yes.”
Chapter 5: Get To Know Me
Chapter Text
I woke early the following morning; I couldn’t sleep. I turned onto my side and there you were right beside me, sleeping peacefully and comfortably, naked and curled up in the warmth and safety of my bed. I was infatuated with you. I wanted your body to be mine and only mine; I wanted to hold you, and protect you; I wanted to mend your insecurities; I wanted to treat you the way you deserved to be treated and… I wanted you to want me for more than just my sexual prowess or a place to crash…
And it terrified me.
“Max?” Your voice came sleepily.
I reached out to hold your hand. “I’m here, baby.”
“I had a bad dream…”
I frowned. “You wanna talk about it?”
At first, you shook your head, entwining your fingers with mine whilst your eyes remained closed. Gradually, and blinking in the dim-illumination, your gaze settled on my face. You were just about able to distinguish my features in the near darkness and that included the deep purple bruising still surrounding my left eye. You reconsidered, hesitantly. “I dreamt… He came here. And he hurt you. Really hurt you. And then he, he hurt me… Max what if-”
“Shh…” I moved myself closer and I pressed my thumb lightly over your trembling lips as my eyes darted back and forth between yours. “That’s not gonna happen. He doesn’t know where you are… It was just a bad dream.” You swallowed hard and closed your eyes again. “I swear, baby, I will never let him hurt you again. You know that.” It made me uncomfortable to think about what that asshole of an ex-boyfriend must have done to you. And I wanted you to be comfortable enough with me to talk about it, but I knew you weren’t ready for that.
“I know.” You let go of my hand and turned your back to me as you mumbled in your half-asleep state, and then I took a sharp breath as I felt you press your body against my chest. “Max?”
“Yeah?” I gently touched your shoulder and ran my fingers down your arm and towards your hip.
“Will you, just hold me?”
“Mm hmm...” I draped my arm around you, and pressed my face into your neck, kissing your shoulder gently. I tried my best to resist the urge to take you again there and then; and it took all the self control I had as I felt your ass move against me and I inadvertently grew hard at the thought.
A shiver ran through you as I traced my fingers back up and down your body, but then you took my hand in yours and pulled me closer, wrapping my arm right around you. I kept my face buried in your neck as I whispered, “are you cold?”
“A little.” Your words came quietly as you drifted in and out of consciousness. “I can feel you...”
I chuckled. I knew what you meant and I smirked as I kissed your shoulder again and held you tighter. “Yeah... It’s difficult not to have a hard-on when you’re rubbing your ass against me like this, baby... I’ll behave, though.” I decided to push my luck, and I bit my lip as I hopefully inquired, “unless you don’t want me to behave?” I placed another kiss on your neck, this time grazing your soft skin with my teeth and I bit down just enough to make you moan faintly.
You tried to resist – “Mm... I’m sleeping, Max.” – but you didn’t exactly put up a fight. Or tell me to stop.
“Yeah...? I don’t mind that.” My hand slipped away from yours and slid down to gently tease your legs apart, causing you to arch against my body as I slid a finger between your thighs, and then all the way into you. “Does that feel good?”
You whimpered and I took your response as a yes, so, I moved deeper, thrusting and curling my fingers slowly and purposefully inside of you.
I could feel your heart rate increasing as I continued to kiss your neck, and then I pulled my fingers out of you and spread you a little wider; slowly and deliberately guiding my firm cock into your wet heat.
And I had no intention of using protection, despite your protests the previous night. I was happier without but still, I wasn’t stupid. I heard your breath catch and without missing a beat I whispered, “I’ll pull out. I promise, baby. Just let me-”
And I groaned quietly into your ear as I drove myself all the way inside. I wasn’t sure if it was because you were still a little out of it, or if it was because you enjoyed the sensation too much to tell me not to, but you surrendered to my advances and allowed me to keep going without objection or a second thought.
Brazenly, I bit down harder as I rocked my hips and I felt you respond in kind; you pushed your hips back into mine and you began to gasp as you matched my pace; your body quivering as you acknowledged my teeth digging tenderly into your skin. Your hand moved down to grip my thigh and I allowed you to hold me there for a short while before I was overcome with the urge to restrain you. I grasped your wrist and brought it above your head and held it firmly in place with one hand, before bringing your other wrist up to the same place.
It was all too easy to keep you there with just one hand whilst my other moved to caress your breasts. Admittedly, you struggled a little against my unfaltering grip and for a moment I considered whether I was taking it too far too soon. But you didn’t resist enough to make me think you really wanted me to let you go, and the way you moaned when I tightened my grasp made me realize you were enjoying this as much as I was. I had to know for sure. “Do you like that?” My voice was a low growl in your ear and you nodded faintly in response as I continued to thrust rhythmically. “You like being restrained?” I tasted your neck with my tongue and bit down again.
Apparently, you did. I expelled a deep sigh and threw the sheets from our bodies as the heat intensified between us and, tentatively, I inched my fingers higher and teased them over your throat. I grinned when you consented without words and rolled your head back in response to my touch. Then I wrapped my fingers around your delicate and exposed throat, and exerted an unyielding but gentle pressure.
I could feel my release growing closer but I wanted you to finish first. I’d always want you to finish first. After a short while I released your throat and moved my fingers to your mouth, encouraging you to suck momentarily. And then I pressed back firmly between your legs to massage you there; pushing you further toward the edge of satisfaction.
Your moans came louder and your breath more urgent as you approached your end and when I got you there it took every ounce of control I had not to come at the same time. You cried out softly as you came and I held onto you more firmly as you shuddered and strained against my hold on you.
A few more strokes and I was there, but I kept my promise and grudgingly pulled out of your tight, spasming heat to spill my warm release over the soft curves of your ass with a satiated groan.
We laid there panting, until I rolled onto my back and you moved onto your stomach and looked at me; your eyes desirous as you shifted contently in the bed and the consequence of my affections trickled languidly down the back of your thighs. You looked at me, and you smiled. “I could get used to waking up in this bed with you…”
The corners of my lips turned up in a coy grin. “Oh yeah? I could get used to you being here.”
You moved closer to rest your head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around you as our breathing steadied. Your fingers ran lightly over my chest as mine traced up and down your back and you closed your eyes with a deep and complacent sigh; you were totally relaxed.
We awoke again some three hours later, still wrapped around each other. The morning light was now filtering through the windows and the whole apartment had a warm, early fall-morning glow about it. I lifted my head lethargically and turned to squint at the alarm clock behind us; it displayed 9:08AM. I took a deep breath and kissed your forehead as you began to stir and without even opening your eyes you asked in a hushed tone, “do you have to work again today?”
I chuckled and pulled you closer. “Yeah… But I got a couple hours. I’m thinking, waffles.”
“Waffles?”
“Sure, you like waffles? I owe you that breakfast date.” The word date left my mouth unintentionally.
“Date?”
I tried to shrug it off with an abashed frown. “No, not a date. I just meant we should get breakfast.”
“It could be a date.” You opened your eyes steadily and your lips brushed my chest. I inhaled sharply. “Shouldn’t the date part have come before the sex part, Max?”
“Well, I’m an unconventional kind of guy. Fuck societal norms.” I chuckled. “Wait, are you saying you wanna go on a date with me?” I felt my chest lurch.
You didn’t know what you wanted. The break-up, the sex, staying here with me… It was all happening faster than these things ought to and I wasn’t the only one terrified at the prospect of falling for someone so quickly. “Look, Max…” You moved away from me slightly and lifted your head, propped up on your elbows as you tried to find the right words.
I sighed deeply. “You know, I don’t know what the fuck this is, either.” I reached for my cigarettes and laid back down as I placed one between my lips and lit it. “I just know I like being around you. And I like having sex with you.” I took a deep drag and exhaled toward the ceiling. “And I don’t wanna stop doing those things.”
“Max-”
“-And I’m actually kinda fucking terrified you don’t feel the same way.” My admittance came as a shock even to me as I acknowledged my sentiments out loud; I hadn’t felt more vulnerable my whole life.
A long silence followed before finally, you spoke. “I do. But I’m in a kind of messed up place right now. I don’t think starting a relationship-”
“-So let’s not.” I took the cigarette from between my lips and leant up on my forearms, moving my face closer to yours and locking eyes with you. “Let’s not call it what it isn’t. Let’s just… Keep being around each other.” I stroked your arm gently with the back of my hand and I lowered my gaze to your lips, as though asking for permission to kiss you.
“I mean it. When I say I like you, I do mean it.” You professed.
“And the sex?”
The gap between our lips was being gradually eliminated and you averted your gaze and smirked, with a shy confession. “Especially the sex.”
Unable to resist one another we kissed impulsively; and although we wouldn’t admit it, we both knew that whatever this was, neither of us would have the capability to walk away from it.
“So, babe, waffles?”
You giggled and rolled back into me, kissing my chin and my chest. I grinned held you tight against my body and, eventually, we absolved from one another’s embrace and dragged ourselves out of bed to shower and find clothes. And there was no denying something was evolving between us; something we refused to put a name to; because you were too scared of getting hurt, and I was too scared to commit to an actual relationship.
But we both felt it.
We left my apartment to head for a nearby diner and were seated and ordering breakfast by around ten thirty; waffles with syrup – bacon for me and fruit for you – and two black coffees.
I leant back casually in the booth and tilted my head as I lit a cigarette, surveying you inquisitively. “Alright, you start. Ask me whatever you want and I’ll be honest.” My smile was sincere but you looked at me a little uncertainly. “I just mean, you wanna get to know me, right? And I wanna get to know you, so, what do you wanna know?” I blew smoke sideways and looked back at you.
“Well… You got a family? That’s an easy one.” You watched for my reaction. I shrugged and rolled my eyes as I thought about how to answer.
“Daddy left when I was nine years old and mommy was an addict.” My laughter attempted to obscure the bitterness I had about my upbringing, but it wasn’t difficult to see the resentment hiding behind my eyes. “I got the fuck outta there when I was sixteen. Never looked back.” I leant forward on the table, hiding behind my cigarette. I didn’t like to talk about it. “How about you?”
You raised your eyebrows and took a deep breath. “May as well be the same story… Except mommy died when I was eleven and… Daddy was an asshole… Guess I inherited my bad taste in men from my mom,” You paused before adding, “present company excluded.”
“Shit, I’m sorry to hear that…” I smiled sympathetically. “And uh, I’m glad you think so, but you’ve met me, right? Hardly an outstanding pillar of society.” I smirked. “I’m guessing you didn’t stick around long either?”
You shook your head as the coffees arrived, and thanked the waitress before continuing. “Left when I was seventeen. Not sure my Dad even noticed I was gone… I dated a guy for maybe, a year or so… Then he cheated on me. So, I went from couch to couch for a while… Wound up in L.A. That’s when I met Jake…”
I clenched my jaw at the mention of his name. “You wanna talk about that?”
You shook your head and chuckled softly. “You know he was a decent guy when I met him. Those first six months or so…” You lifted the coffee cup to your lips and took a sip, not wanting to look me in the eyes when you spoke about your ex-boyfriend. “Then he, he just changed.” Silence followed and I took that as an indication you weren’t comfortable talking about him. And I accepted that.
“Well, longest I ever saw the same girl was two months… Man… I mean, she was a real good screw but we had nothing in common besides a penchant for sadomasochism… And I guess she thought the band thing was hot.” I twisted my cigarette restlessly between my fingers and glanced at you with half-lidded eyes. In conjecture, I wasn’t sure if I really should have divulged or suppressed that kind of admission. I didn’t want to scare you off. But you simply gazed at me. I shook my head and hesitated with a grin as I explained further. “Deriving sexual gratification from the infliction and reception of pain and humiliation…” I held my breath. I was confident about who I was, sexually, but I had no idea how accepting you’d be.
You nodded, looking some combination of anxious and flustered. “That’s, yeah… Sure.”
I grinned, leaning further forward and lowering my voice. “Hey, I’m not asking you to play dominatrix and spank me,” You seemed to see the funny side of it as you laughed, if a little anxiously, and I added sarcastically, “and for the record, I’ve never worn a gimp suit.” I continued to smirk and you smiled back timidly. “I’m just saying, I like it rough, and I go pretty fucking hard, sometimes… But I’d never expect any girl to let me do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.”
“I’ve never really…” You seemed embarrassed. I didn’t want you to be.
“Never really what?”
“Experimented that much.” Your eyes met mine again and I raised an eyebrow as I took a last drag on my cigarette and stubbed it out in the glass ashtray on the table. The thought of all the things I could teach you excited me more than I cared to admit, and I shifted a little in my seat.
Leaning my head to one side, I studied your reaction. “But you want to, am I right?”
“I…” But before you could come up with a suitable reply, breakfast arrived and I sat right back as the waitress placed the plates in front of us.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I shrugged apologetically and locked eyes with you as I began to dig into my waffles and took a decent mouthful.
“I’m not uncomfortable.” You looked down and inattentively stabbed blueberries onto your fork. I could tell you were uncomfortable… Or at the very least, apprehensive.
“I mean it when I say I’d never expect anything from you that you weren’t entirely comfortable with. But hey, I mean look at me.” I gestured to everything that was Max California as I took another mouthful of food. “It’s gotta be pretty obvious I’m a kinky fucking deviant.” Your grin mirrored mine as you considered how blatant it was.
You ate a little more but there was something else on your mind; it was clear from the way you periodically glanced at me and picked at your food. “Max, I have another question.”
“Yeah?”
“Yesterday, when I was cleaning,” Your tone was awkward, because you didn’t know how to bring it up. My mind raced with the possibilities of what you were about to ask. “The pink pills…” You’d seen them stashed in a drawer; a small, clear, unmarked bag with a handful of pastel-colored pills inside.
I grimaced, and I tried to shrug it off casually as I thought up a response, because the pink pills weren’t something I made a regular habit of. “MDMA… Ecstasy. And no, I’m not an addict. It’s not something I do on the regular.” I began simply pushing at the food on my plate with my fork as you regarded my explanation. “C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t like to have a little fun now and again?”
“I mean, it’s not a problem but I’ve never-” Your expression told me everything I needed to know so I cut you off mid-sentence.
“-Shit. You’ve never really lived, have you?” In honesty, your innocence was kind of a turn on. I wanted to be the one to show you everything you’d never experienced.
“If you mean have I ever taken drugs…” You hadn’t.
“Hey babe… It’s okay if it’s not your thing.” I shook my head softly. I wasn’t going to push you.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. I just, haven’t.” It hit me then that you were asking out of curiosity and not disapproval. You were open to the idea and that excited me even further.
I reached across the table and gently took your hand, looking you directly in the eyes in an effort to reassure you. “You know you’re safe with me, right? Totally safe. If you ever wanna… If you trust me to show you, anything you want…” I hesitated, because I was wary of taking things too far. “And I’d never want you to do anything you weren’t sure about. But baby I can show you a really, really good time.” I smirked. You knew I was genuine, and you did trust me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be a whole world of trouble.
I moved away as you reflected on my words, and I picked up my fork to continue eating. We finished breakfast in relative silence, and as you pushed your plate away, I broke what was gradually becoming awkward. “You wanna come hang out at the store with me today? I can’t promise you won’t be, uh, subjected to the lustful gaze of perverts and degenerates but, I’d be with you, so… You know, unless you got someplace else to be?”
“I um, I don’t know… I was, actually gonna go see if there’s any places hiring nearby. Maybe that way I could afford to pay for breakfast next time.” You lowered your gaze.
I hesitated. “I might be out of line, but we’re looking to hire…” I saw the apprehension on your face and quickly added, “Nothing like that. I mean, kind of like that… Strictly sales but uh, my douchebag boss keeps insisting if we had a hot girl working behind the counter we’d shift twice as many indecent magazines and porno flicks. The money's not great but it's something.”
You seemed to be seriously considering the idea. Maybe because you just needed to find a job. Or maybe, because you liked the idea of hanging out with me. I didn’t know either way, but you nodded thoughtfully before finishing the last of your coffee. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 6: XXX-Rated
Chapter Text
“Max California...” My name rolled thoughtfully from your tongue as we walked; side by side with our shoulders periodically brushing.
“What?” I had my hands in my pockets, and you gazed down at the sidewalk as we made our way through some of the less reputable parts of downtown L.A.
You glanced sideways at me. “It’s not your real name, right?”
I raised an eyebrow with a coy smile. “You don’t think so?”
“C’mon, it’s a stage name.”
I shook my head and grinned. “You’re half right. Max is my real name. And so is California. Now anyway. I changed it. Like, legally.”
“What was it?” My smile faded as you questioned me further.
“Does it matter?” I wasn’t too enthusiastic about bringing up my past again, and I didn’t mean to sound so indignant, but you got the hint.
“Just trying to make conversation…”
I nudged you affectionately with my elbow. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just, Max California is who I am. That’s all there is to it.” I looked up again as we rounded the street corner and my place of employment came into view. “You ready to get to know me a little better?”
The eye-catching crimson-colored boards distributed along the dull cement façade of what was essentially a glorified sex shop, stood out along the main street; with peeling bright yellow cursive that read such things as 24 Hours, Adults Only and Very Classy – the latter of which you doubted. A faded, red-tinged banner hung almost right the way across the establishment, with STAN’S OF HOLLYWOOD Adult Entertainment at its Finest printed across it. A lesser but just as prominent sign sat above the entrance; Adult Bookstore and Movie Arcade.
You glanced up at the sign and the empty fittings between the intermittently flickering light bulbs which bordered it. The whole place seemed to scream sleaze. I shrugged. “It pays the bills until the music takes off.” I gestured for you to go inside and I followed behind you. “We’re gonna get signed, you know, these things take time.” I had a lot of faith in my band.
Stepping apprehensively inside, you surveyed the emporium of pornographic magazines, X-rated videos and sex paraphernalia with curiosity. The store itself made you feel somewhat uncomfortable; a little uneasy but you couldn’t deny you found the atmosphere with its dim fluorescent lighting and erotic connotations strikingly, appealing, in a sense. Not that you wanted to admit it.
The front section of the store was stocked with more sexual aids and intimate products than you could comprehend existed; many of which you’d never heard of – some you couldn’t even speculate on their intended purpose and, for that matter, didn’t want to.
There was an entire section on the left dedicated to an indecent number of pornographic magazines; from the mildly lewd to the outright obscene. The opposite side of the store was reserved for an extensive selection of explicit videos; the upper most shelves of which – categorized with placards reading Hardcore – were compiled of a triple-X-rated assortment.
In the midst of everything – and opposite a yellowing PVC strip-curtain which lead to the carpark out back – stood a series of elongated glass cabinets, illuminated internally by fluorescent tube lighting and exhibiting even more adult toys and products. I leant back against the glass countertops and watched with interest as you took everything in; your expression still pleasantly curious.
A colleague working the cash register nodded at me as he stepped out from behind the counter. “’Sup Max. See y’ later.” I nodded back and sighed as my shift commenced and he departed. “Yeah, have a good one.” And I took his place behind the register, leaning down on my elbows as you stood opposite me and your gaze wandered over the surveillance footage on the television screens behind me. “Well?”
You shrugged, silently scanning the various brands and varieties of condoms and lubricants displayed behind the glass. “Well what?”
“Anything catch your eye?”
“I…” You were caught off-guard as you looked back up and away from the cabinet.
“I’m kidding. Kinda…” I smirked as our gaze met, and my proposal came lazily and my tone hushed. “What do you reckon, wanna keep me company for a few hours whilst I sell pornography to degenerate middle-aged men and sexual miscreants?”
My eyes lit up as you smiled with a gentle bite of your lip, nodding your head thoughtfully. “Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do.” You turned and hopped up onto the counter beside me, taking a seat, and observed the customers as they perused the store, browsing videos and flicking through magazines. “As long as your boss won’t mind.”
I grinned at you as a disheveled looking man with long, greasy hair and a bald spot approached the counter with an assortment of goods. He eyed you lecherously before turning his attention back to me and digging in his back pocket for his wallet. “Oh, yeah my boss is definitely not gonna mind you being here…” I rang up the items and turned my attention back to the clientele. “Fifty-eight dollars and ninety-seven cents.” He paid, and I wrapped the items in a paper bag. Then he took a last glance at you up on the counter before heading out. “Have a great day and I’d like to thank you for shopping at Adult Book Store.” I rolled my eyes and stood behind you, placing my arms either side of your hips and resting my head against your shoulder. “Catch is, you’ll have to put up with creeps like him staring at you all day.”
“Honestly? I doubt it’s any worse than when I was waitressing.” Your eyes continued to scour your surroundings until settling on an assemblage of bondage gear and apparatus on a nearby display; leather and PVC outfits both for him and her; restraints and straps, cuffs and gags; collars and whips and even face-obscuring masks. You were undeniably more inclined toward some items over others. I watched you tensely, feeling considerably turned on by the thought of you showing an interest. “Hey, Max?”
I kissed the back of your neck briefly before answering. “Yeah?”
“So, like, did you end up working here because you’re into some kinky shit, or did you end up into kinky shit because you work here?” You glanced over your shoulder at me and smirked.
I laughed and stood up straight, considering your question. “I don’t know, both? Neither? Shit, I’ve always been pretty fucking disturbed… I guess I was screwing enough girls and watching enough porn and into enough kinky shit to know I should take the job when it came up. Next thing I know a few years have gone by and I’m deep in it, you know?” As my words came and I really thought about it, I realized that although I wanted to have you around, and as much as I wanted to help you get back on your feet with finding a job… This probably wasn’t a route I wanted to introduce you to or a path I wanted to drag you down. “Look, the porn industry it… It changes you. I mean I’ve seen some shit. Shit I can’t un-see.”
You turned around on the counter and dropped your legs the other side of it and I moved closer between them. My fingers brushed along your arms and came to rest over yours and I tilted my head to one side as I observed you. “I know I said there’s a vacancy… I don’t, I don’t think this is a good place for you. I mean the kind of guys that come in here-”
“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” You sounded offended. I clenched my jaw.
“Baby I’m not talking about dealing with your average sleaze or your ability to sell, fucking, vibrating dildo’s and silicone pussies. I’m talking about the kinda guys who are gonna want to put you in a film and won’t take no for a fucking answer. The kinda guys who’d want to corrupt somebody like you…”
You looked down at the floor but I touched your chin with my fingers and gently brought your gaze back to mine. With a carnal grin and a reserved voice, I spoke just loud enough that only you could hear me. And I admitted everything I felt as I leaned in to your ear. “I want to corrupt you. I want to bring you to your knees. To make you beg and hold you on the brink of pain and pleasure, until you surrender yourself to me and only me. I want to watch you fall to pieces and hear you scream for mercy and then… Then I want to undo it all, and to mend your afflictions and hold you against me and caress every part of you.” Your mouth was dry – other parts less so. And I could hear the beating of your heart beneath your chest and the acceleration of your breathing as I drew my eyes level with yours again. “But I want it to be me who does it to you… Only me.”
You were quivering.
“…And only if you want me to.”
Without a second thought you pressed your lips firmly against mine and initiated a deep and intense kiss and I knew then; you wanted the same things I did. I kissed you back with as much vigor and enthusiasm, and I could’ve kissed you like that for hours, but we both were brought back to our senses by the resounding clatter of a stack of video tapes being dropped on the counter and the sound of a man clearing his throat.
I pulled away, resentfully, and turned my attention to the individual; an overweight and scruffy little man in glasses who most definitely was trying to catch a glimpse of your ass as you jumped back down from the counter. “Yes, certainly sir, did you manage to find everything?”
I reverted back to my best customer service voice – which truthfully was just some combination of disinterest and tedium – and attempted to keep my mind on the job and not on you. Meanwhile, you opted to meander through the store, and you took a stroll up and down each aisle, studying the place with reticent interest. My eyes flickered between bagging goods and watching out for you; I didn’t trust anyone.
Vibrators, dildos, anal plugs... You must have been familiar with at least some of the more conventional toys on offer as your fingers skipped along the rows of merchandise; I couldn’t resist wondering just how familiar you were. You reached the end of an aisle and a pair of black leather cuffs seemed to gain your attention. I could tell by the way you glanced back at me briefly as you traced the cool, metal-studded leather of the restraints. I raised an eyebrow. You moved on.
You ended up at the video section, browsing the various titles of some relatively standard porno flicks; the old cliché of naughty schoolgirls, blasphemous nuns and busty women in leather catsuits. It was mostly your stereotypical dirty movies on the lower shelves. Your eyes moved toward the mid-range porn; the kind of films that went a little harder. Lesbian orgies, fisting, anal exploration and light bondage were just a few of the genres on offer. But the uppermost titles were more my intrigue.
I stepped out from behind the cash register and headed in your direction as you silently browsed the XXX-Rated categories; the likes of hardcore bondage, gangbangs, and relatively niche fetish play.
I wrapped myself around you; my chest pressing against your back and my arms holding you in a firm embrace. “So, you have a preferred genre?”
You laughed and placed your hands over mine. “No, but I’m betting you do.”
“Oh, c’mon baby, everyone has a favorite. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but everyone has a preference.”
“And yours is?” You seemed genuinely interested and it excited me. I kissed you hard on the cheek and released my grasp on you, reaching up to retrieve some examples of exactly my flavor of the obscene; bondage films.
“By no means my only vice but always a front-runner... And don’t think I didn’t notice you admiring those leather cuffs, baby. You’re not as virtuous as you might think.” I stood to face you again with a smirk on my lips and a devious glint in my eyes. “I can see it in you.”
“Maybe.” You grinned.
“Hey, you wanna rent something? Nothing extreme, I promise.”
You were hesitant and looked away from me with a deep breath. “Max, I don’t know, don’t you think it’s all a bit much?”
“What? Watching a porno together? It’s just sex. It’s just, fucking. You want to get to know each other and what better way is there than being intimate?” I backed off a little because I could see the uncertainty in your expression. My tone became more defensive than I should have allowed. “Shit, I’m not asking you to go steady. I’m asking if you wanna have a good time.” I shook my head and tossed the video back on the shelf. “Forget it.” I didn’t know whether I felt more humiliated, or bitter, about being turned down by you. But either way I regretted my suggestion.
“Max-” You grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward you, trying to be discreet because there were at least five other people browsing in the store.
“No, I know – I know I’m pretty fucking intense.” My jaw tightened indignantly as I avoided looking at you.
“No that’s not it. I mean, yeah, you are. But I like that. I like you. It’s just… I’ve been through a lot. It’s not easy for me to put my trust in anyone. And the kind of things you wanna do… It’s not that I don’t want to-”
“-But you don’t trust me.” I knew I shouldn’t have taken it personally but, I did.
“I’m just…” Your eyes conveyed your apprehensions and you searched for empathy in mine. You were far from innocent or inexperienced (the previous night was an indication of that), but you’d been hurt; body and mind you’d been a victim. I let out a frustrated sigh; the frustration wasn’t in your response but in myself, because I realized I was being an insensitive ass.
“-You’re anxious. And you need time… And I’m being an asshole.” I spoke through clenched teeth with an apologetic and self-conscious smirk. “Hey, I’m sorry… I’m not used to taking things slow. And I’m really not looking to scare you off.”
“I know. You aren’t.” You tentatively took my hand and my eyes brightened immediately; I weaved my fingers through yours and grinned.
“I can wait. But you just say the word, baby… The Devil in me is always ready.” Then I took a chance and kissed you again. And I needed you to know I wanted you. I wanted your trust. I wanted to take you to the most intense depths of pleasure and passion and vitality you never knew existed.
I wanted to love you.
I whiled away the time in-between serving customers simply loitering with you behind the counter; kissing and teasing and provoking one another. My boss may have passed his disapproving criticisms once or twice but in the grand scheme of things, the clientele certainly weren’t taking any displeasure in our display of affections, and anything that satisfied the customer was good business in his eyes.
“C’mon, I’m due a break.” I took your hand and led you through the yellowing PVC doorway which lead through to the carpark out back. As we stepped out, I squinted in the low, afternoon sunlight and took out my cigarette packet.
You leant back against the heavily graffitied brick wall beside me and shoved your hands in your pockets as I lit up. “So, you got any more gigs coming up?” I smiled broadly. If there was one thing I liked more than fucking, it was playing shows with my band.
“Yeah, Saturday night.” I took a long, leisurely drag, “It’s a pretty intimate venue,” and exhaled slowly before looking at you. “You wanna come?”
“Of course I do. And, I’d love to meet your band mates, too.” You smiled sincerely.
I laughed and inhaled again. “Yeah? They’re pretty intense but they’re decent guys. Actually, I was gonna bring that up.” I shifted against the wall and leant my shoulder against it as I looked at you.
“Your band?”
“One of the guys is throwing a party tomorrow night. Kind of a, an all-you-can-drink rager. There’s gonna be a ton of people, decent music… I know you wouldn’t know anyone but, it’s gonna be pretty fucking lit.” I grinned optimistically as I flicked cigarette ash onto the ground.
“I’m in.”
Chapter 7: Hell of a Party - Part 1
Notes:
TWs; Drug use and rape
Chapter Text
We arrived at the party around nine in the evening; dressed in black and turning heads. You wore an enticingly revealing outfit and I kind of loved the way people stared. And me? My usual alternative attire; leather pants and a fitted vest-shirt. I smoked with one hand and held yours with the other as we walked up the driveway.
The place itself was pretty run-down; a busted chain-link fence surrounded the one-story, and the paint on the deck was peeling, in keeping with the rest of the house. But no one gave a shit about those things; the whole place was buzzing. NOFX rang out from the stereo inside and people were yelling and drinking and dancing. I nodded an acknowledging “Hey” to a few people I knew and pulled you gently with me through the raucous crowd and toward the kitchen to grab us both a drink.
I grinned and passed you a beer as I leant back against the kitchen counter. “Told you it’d be a hell of a party.” You smirked and nodded in agreement, taking a sip and glancing around at the large volume of people. You looked nervous. Nervous, but devastatingly stunning and my eyes lingered on you for a little longer than I’d intended, until I finally stood up straight and held my hand out to you again. “C’mon, I wanna introduce you to some people.” We navigated our way through the surge of party-goers and back out into the warm night where the music was a little less deafening and the atmosphere a little more placid. “Hey, hey Sam!” I called across the porch and as he turned around you immediately recognized the guy as one of my band mates; He was taller than me and heavier set, with jet black spiked hair and twice as many tattoos as me.
“Max, you fucking made it, man.” He slapped me on the back and clashed his beer bottle into mine.
“You know I wouldn’t miss it… And there’s someone I want you to meet.” I smiled at you, introducing you by name.
Sam looked you shamelessly up and down and raised an eyebrow, grinning. “So, you’re Max’s latest conquest, huh?” He already seemed pretty wasted as he took you in, swaying on his feet and taking another swig of beer.
“Hey, Sam.” You smiled in the politest way you could manage.
I was offended by his assumption of you. “Shit, c’mon, don’t say it like that. I like this girl, man she’s not some fucking road gig.” I flicked my cigarette butt into the dirt and looked up at him. I still didn’t know what we were to each other but you weren’t some one-time fling. That much, I knew.
“Don’t tell me you’re going steady.” He chuckled, disbelievingly.
You responded to his abrupt question before I could come up with an answer. “He’s put me up for a few days, that’s all. I was having a shit time and he was just, there.” I adored the way you smiled at me in that moment.
“Yeah and I bet you’re giving up the goods in return, huh?” Sam smirked again.
“Fuck you, man.” I shoved him casually. “You’re just jealous.”
Sam chuckled into his drink before changing the subject. “The fuck happened to your eye, Max?” He was referring to the still-obvious bruising around my eye where your ex had smacked me hard in the face a few days back.
“Nothing. Got into a fight is all.” Before I could say another word, someone else caught my eye and gave me a heads up from across the yard. I turned back to look at you. “Hey, babe, stay here for me, I’ll only be a second.” I didn’t give you a choice in the matter as I left you standing with Sam and headed over to see a friend of mine.
Sam leant back against the wall and waited until I’d walked away before asking you, “So, you and Max, you’re not, dating, then?” He was clearly interested in you and keen to find out exactly if you were available or not.
“No.” Weren’t we?
Sam seemed to think that was an opportunity. “Does that make you single?”
You shifted uncomfortably and watched as I shook hands with the guy across the yard. “No. Look it’s just kinda complicated.” You were only half paying attention to Sam’s words and his advances as you watched me curiously and observed a close exchange between myself and the other guy. “Who’s Max talking to?”
Sam stood up and glanced in my direction with a grin. “Him? Just a friend who knows how to supply a good time. So, how complicated exactly?” He wasn’t going to give up easily.
I looked up, and the way Sam was leering at you made me more uncomfortable than I’d admit; I felt protective of you; almost, possessive. I shoved my hand into my pocket and made a quick return. Sam seemed to back off slightly with my presence. “You okay?” My voice was cautious.
“Yeah…” You glanced uneasily at Sam, who shrugged.
“Look man, either she’s your girlfriend, or she’s not. And if she’s not-”
You rolled your eyes contentiously and took another mouthful of beer as I tried to clarify further to my band mate that you weren’t just some piece of skirt to be won over. “Back off, Sam. She’s not interested.” And I didn’t appreciate him trying to get between us.
“Shit, calm down, Max. Maybe you need another drink. I mean…” He paused to smirk at you and in a quieter and more suggestive tone he replied, “We’ve shared girls before-”
“Nah,” I shook my head with an exasperated laugh, although he wasn’t wrong. “This is different. And you’re drunk.”
I could see you getting more agitated but fortunately, Sam admitted defeat. He held up his hands and took a step backwards. “Off limits. I get it, Max.” Then he directed his attention back to you. “But just so we’re clear, you know he’s never been serious about a girl in his entire life, right?”
You took my hand in yours and I squeezed gently, smiling as you responded. “Yeah, well, people change. C’mon Max… I wanna dance.” And I grinned deliberately at Sam with an arrogant wink as you pulled me back inside toward the music.
The air was thick with body heat and smoke; the combined aroma of cigarettes and weed, and spilled beer and sweat was, overwhelming. The Sex Pistols Pretty Vacant reverberated through the house from the stereo system; the soundtrack to various couples making out shamelessly and practically screwing each other against the walls. In reality, it was a rank scene. But I couldn’t help finding the whole situation arousing, especially as you pulled me into you and began dancing seductively close to me; arms around my neck and hips swaying so our bodies were just about touching. I moved along with you; the both of us intermittently taking sips from our beer bottles until they were empty and I abandoned them on the closest table.
I held you tight against me until you turned to press your back against my chest. I grinned. Everything about you turned me on and I felt like you were doing it all on purpose. “Hey, baby…” I spoke softly against your ear, but loud enough you could hear me over the music. “How adventurous are you feeling tonight?” Your eyes grew wide and you turned a little closer to me.
Hesitantly, you questioned me. “Why?” You stared directly into my impulsive green eyes; they were filled with an irresponsible desire to introduce your vulnerable and inexperienced self to something new.
I shook my head softly. “Just answer me. Are you feeling reckless?”
You took a short breath and the corner of your lip curled into a grin. You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Do you trust me?”
You were so fucking cute when you were nervous. And you were unsure of what you’d just agreed to, but you nodded anyway. So, I took your hand again and lead you through the house toward the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind us. You watched anxiously as I dug in my pocket and produced a small bag of white powder.
“Is that…?” You eyed the bag as I held it up in front of you.
“Blow.” I dropped it onto the edge of the countertop and rubbed my hand against the back of my neck as you gazed down at the bag. “No pressure, I just thought…” I was apprehensive as hell because I had no idea how you’d react; but all I wanted was for us to have a little fun. “Well?”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“I said yes. C’mon, I want to.”
I grinned and wasted no more time in pulling out my wallet to grab my credit card. I dropped the open wallet on the sink and opened the bag, dipping the corner of the card to scoop out a small amount of cocaine. “You don’t want too much at once, you know? Especially since it’s your first time… You’re gonna feel like, fucking alive, okay?” I glanced up at you as I balanced the coke on the corner of the card. “It’ll take a couple minutes, then you’ll be buzzing, for maybe half hour or so. Shit, first time I did coke I was jittery as fuck… You wanna go first?”
Your heart was pounding. I could see the uncertainty in your eyes. And I didn’t know if you’d agreed to the whole thing because you were trying to prove something to yourself, or to me, or because you really just wanted to try something new. “You.”
I smiled agreeably at your decision. And I took the hit.
You watched as I inhaled sharply and stood up straight, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “Okay baby, your turn.” I dipped the corner of the card back into the bag and held it for you. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen,” I chuckled reassuringly. “I promise. It’s just coke. And it’s good stuff okay my guy’s reliable.”
Then you did it. You inhaled the powder and then held your hand over your face for a moment, before looking at me for, I wasn’t sure, reassurance? I smirked and you frowned. “What?”
“Most girls I know get real turned on with this stuff.” I picked up my wallet and casually shoved my card back inside and stuck it in my back pocket, before sealing up the bag and stuffing that, too, into my pocket. “I’m talking, so fucking hot you just wanna screw for hours… Shit, do you feel it?” It was starting to take effect.
“I just feel kinda, like, like my nose is numb.” You giggled.
“Don’t worry about that. Give it another minute or two.” I leant against the bathroom door; my leg was shaking. I took out my cigarettes and lit one, taking a deep drag and waiting for you to feel it. Then I held the cigarette out to you. I knew you didn’t usually smoke, but damn, when it rains it pours, right? You seemed to agree with my silent sentiment and you took the cigarette from me and inhaled, holding it for a second before exhaling and passing it back. God, I wanted you so badly. “You wanna make out?”
It didn’t take a lot of convincing, because without deliberation you gripped my shirt and kissed me, hard. I kissed you back and our tongues danced around one another’s with a frantic lust. My free hand found your ass and I squeezed firmly, pulling you right into me. We kissed for a long while; our hands beginning to explore each other before, breaking away from you, I breathlessly asked, “Can you feel it now?”
You smiled and bit your lip, and there was an animated spark in your eyes; the coke was doing its job. “Fuck yeah I can feel it.” My lips curled and I pulled up, switching our positions and throwing my cigarette into the sink before gripping your shoulders and forcing you tenaciously up against the door.
“If you want me to stop…” I spoke between fierce kisses; my lips working their way down your neck and my hand working its way under your skirt. “Fuck, you aren’t gonna want me to stop…” I would have, if you’d told me to. But you were far too agreeable to a good, hard, screw, to tell me to stop. We both knew it.
I hitched up your skirt and pushed your underwear to one side, sliding my fingers firmly against you to part your lips. With my other hand I pulled your top to one side and bit down gently on your collarbone. Your fingers dragged through my hair and I indulged in the moans departing your mouth as I pushed your legs apart with my thigh and drove my middle finger deep inside your slick and needy heat.
I covered your mouth with mine to mask your sighs as I fucked you with my fingers, and before long, your hands moved down to eagerly work loose the zipper on my pants and push them down around my hips. I aided you in your endeavour; leather wasn’t the easiest thing to peel off in haste. And it was obvious from the way you rolled your hips and the intensity of the way we kissed that you were really, really aroused right now.
Reluctantly, I pulled back from your mouth, resting my forehead against yours for a moment as I whispered, “don’t worry, baby… I came prepared.” I withdrew my fingers, brought them to my mouth and sucked provocatively with a devilish smirk. “Your cunt tastes good.” And then I pulled my wallet back out to retrieve a condom, and I felt you run your fingers along the underside of my erect and impatient cock. I managed to bite back a groan as you touched me, and I allowed you to tease me for a moment before I frantically tore open the packet. In my urgency, I fumbled with the condom, but managed to get it on.
I pressed my lips against your ear, and gripping both your wrists firmly I growled, “how d’you feel about doggy style?” You expelled a short breath and pushed back against me; your breathing was heavy and your heart was thudding almost violently – a combined result of the drugs and the sex – and as I released your wrists you leant down over the sink, glancing back over your shoulder at me with a devious and consenting pout.
“Any way you want me, Max California.”
I expelled an appreciative and ravenous sigh as I pushed up your skirt and pulled your underwear down to reveal your perfect ass and enticing cunt, and it took me absolutely no time to sink myself all the way into you with a gratifying groan. “Yeah, fuck, that feels good.” I gripped your hip firmly with one hand and I smoothly slipped my other up your back before reaching your neck; the whole ordeal elicited whimpering moans from you before I silenced them with the tightening of my fingers around your throat, so all you could do was gasp for breath.
Abruptly, an impatient knocking came from the other side of the door.
I sighed irritably, trying to maintain my focus as I rocked my hips relentlessly against you. “Fuck off! Bathroom’s fucking occupied!”
The voice on the other side came argumentatively and with an irate tone. “Hurry the fuck up, asshole!” Admittedly we’d been in the bathroom a questionably long time at this point.
“Hey go piss in the fucking bushes, man!”
You might’ve laughed if you could manage so much as to breathe, but you could feel yourself growing light-headed and began digging your nails against the back of my hand. I eased off – enough that you could catch your breath – but I didn’t let up at all with the pace of my thrusting.
I could’ve taken the whole thing slowly. I could have, but we had the whole night ahead of us to do this again and again, and I was craving my release. So, I slid my hand from your hip, licked the tips of my fingers and pressed them firmly between your legs; and the pressure of the rapidly delivered circular motions I granted you as I pushed you harder and closer to your orgasm, caused you to choke out an obscured moan. “Baby I’m gonna need you to fucking come,” my breaths grew shorter and my heart thudded harder as I admitted, “I can’t hold on.”
Your own breaths grew more frantic beneath my grip and you grasped at my hand on your throat as I drove you to the edge and when you finally fell it was with an intense and satiated cry; one that I suppressed with the contracting of my fingers as I followed you into contentment and came with a self-indulgent grunt. I was panting hard with each jerk of my hips and the tightening of your muscles around my pulsating cock. Gradually, I released you from my grasp and placed my lips against your shoulder.
Swallowing hard, you ran your hands over you neck and tried to catch your breath again. “Max…”
“Yeah? Baby are you okay?” With a hushed groan I pulled myself out of you and ran my fingers through your hair, encouraging you to face me again. “That wasn’t too much, was it?” I knew I could be a little impulsive, and more forceful than you might’ve liked; I couldn’t help myself.
“No, fuck…” You were still trying to steady your breathing as you gripped my shirt and pulled me against you. “I think I… I liked that a little too much.” Your hands were on my face; fingers in my hair; gaze moving from my own to my lips and back again as we panted against one another.
“I don’t think there’s ever such thing as too much.”
You kissed me hard, and then, “I want another drink.”
“You want another hit, first?” I liked you on cocaine.
You pulled up your underwear and fixed your hair as I slipped off the condom and disposed of it in the bathroom waste basket and promptly fastened my pants. Then I pulled out the bag of coke, and without hesitation we both had our fix before stumbling out of the bathroom, hardly able to keep our hands off of one another as we continued to chase the high.
We headed back to the kitchen, past more friends and acquaintances of mine; I knew a lot of the people and as we passed them I made a point of acknowledging most of them with a hey, or a grin, or a slap on the back. I grabbed us a couple more beers and headed out the side door into the backyard for some fresh air. As I looked at you, I could see the hit starting to take effect; your eyes were darting back and forth at all the people around and you nodded your head in time with the music and you looked kind of, restless and jittery. “Cheers, baby.” I handed you a bottle and you took a mouthful.
A gathering of guys and a couple girls were seated in the yard – some in lawn chairs and some settled on the ground. You instantly recognized one of them as being Sam. We were welcomed into the group, and I began introducing you to my buddies and my other two band mates. “This is Jonnie, and Mikey.” I pointed at them sequentially; Jonnie was a skinny dude with long, dirty-blond hair, and Mikey was a stocky guy with messy hair and scruff of beard covering his jawline. “Lead guitar, drums.” They nodded with a welcoming smile; Jonnie raised an eyebrow, and Mikey simply muttered a hey and went back to his beer. “Guys this is my-” I stopped myself, and chuckled. Sam rolled his eyes. I cleared my throat and introduced you without defining anything about our relationship.
Sam leant forward and addressed the whole group. “Yes, they’re fucking, and no, they’re not dating.”
I took a deep breath and grinned caustically. “Yeah, thanks for clearing that up.” I took a seat on the ground and grabbed your hand, pulling you down with me so you sat between my legs with your back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around you and you leant back to whisper near my ear. “Sam’s a bit of a prick, Max.”
I laughed softly as I glanced up at him and then lowered my lips to your ear. “He’s a loose fucking cannon but he’s okay, you know… Anyway, it’s his party.” I kissed your cheek and rested my head against yours. Sam didn’t have much of a filter; he said whatever he thought and there’d been more than one occasion where his arrogance has caused a rift within the band, but I was used to it. And he was a hell of a guitarist.
You nodded and turned your attention to Jonnie. “So, like, what do you guys do for work? I mean, other than the band thing?”
Jonnie shrugged and took a drag of the cigarette between his fingers. “Part-time at a gas station. Mikey’s the only one going places, huh?” You glanced at Mikey, who shook his head. “You’re a fuckin’ trainee chef, Mike. Better than the rest of us deadbeats.”
I choked out a laugh. “Fucking speak for yourself, Jonnie.”
“Max,” Sam threw his empty beer bottle across the yard and it hit the fence. “You sell pornography to losers and reprobates.”
“Beats pumping fucking gas, Samuel.” I quipped.
You grinned; it turned you on that I was well versed in the realms of pornography and the sex industry as a whole. “Sam, what about you?”
“I sell guitars. Some of us actually try to earn a respectable living.”
I chugged down a good portion of my beer as I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, because you’ve never watched a fucking porno or jacked off to a double-page spread of Chasey Lain’s tits? Someone’s gotta sell that shit.”
“Yeah, it’s a real public service.” Sam chuckled and I smirked in response. You were right, he was a prick, but I knew it was all in jest. “Anyway, how about you, gorgeous?”
Your face flushed at being called gorgeous, even if the compliment was from Sam. “Oh I’m kinda between jobs right now. I was working at a diner. Liquor store before that. Dead end shit, you know? But uh, things are gonna change, I’m going places.” Your tone was bright and filled with enthusiasm; your confidence fueled by the high.
I held you tight and grinned as I rested my chin on your shoulder. “She’s gonna be an actress, right baby?” I glanced up at Sam and pointed at him in jest. “Don’t say it, man.”
He smirked facetiously. “Actress?”
“I mean it, shut the fuck up.” We were both laughing. “I’m talking Hollywood. Not a dirty fucking skin flick.”
“I’d pay-” I’d kicked out at his chair before he could finish his sentence and he almost toppled backwards.
You laughed as he managed to catch his balance. “In your dreams, Samuel.” You remarked, finishing your beer.
“Well now you come to mention it-”
I shook my head and shot him a look that was both amused, and intimidating. “Babe I’m gonna grab some more drinks.” And I kissed you hard on the lips before getting up and heading inside.
You were buzzing. Jonnie and Mikey were busy talking amongst themselves and Sam was trying his best to play it casual. “So, you’re into music?” He took a sip of his beer.
“Sure.” You shrugged. “I mean who isn’t?”
He nodded with a genial smile. “Do you play?”
“Never had the chance to learn. I always wanted to.” Your eyes were wide, and Sam must’ve been cognizant you were on cocaine. He wasn’t stupid.
“I got a pretty sweet guitar collection. I can show you.” He paused. “Only if you want.”
And it was the combination of alcohol and narcotics in your system that made you so readily agreeable to Sam’s proposal. You were comfortable; confident and animated in the moment and so when Sam got up and lead the way inside, you didn’t hesitate to accept.
“You can take a closer look, if you want. Seriously, I don’t mind.” You didn’t notice the way the music became muted as the bedroom door clicked shut behind you. And you were too distracted by the sweet, jet black Gibson to notice, too, when Sam took a seat beside you on his bed. Your fingers slid over the strings and he moved an arm around you, placing his fingers over yours. But that, you noticed. You quickly put the guitar back down.
“Sam I don’t think... Look thanks for showing me but we should get back. Max is gonna wonder where I went and-”
“Max? C’mon, you can’t be serious about him? Look don’t take this the wrong way but, Max doesn’t do commitment. He just doesn’t. So, you shouldn’t worry about it.”
Sam was more than a little inebriated and he was so fucking cocksure; so determined that you should want him that he didn’t hesitate to try and kiss you, despite your discernible reluctance toward him.
You tried to push him off; you really did; and you tried to fight back when he grasped your wrists and pushed you down onto the bed; you tried to wriggle your way free when he pinned them above your head with one hand and then trapped your body beneath his; you tried to stop him when he pried your legs apart and unzipped his pants.
You tried. And you struggled. And you begged.
But he forced his way inside you despite your objections.
I didn’t have it in me to even consider Sam could be so brutal. And by the time I found you, he was half way done and you were reduced to sobs, and had conceded defeat; your cries of objection had gone unnoticed, obscured by the volume of the music.
“Wh... What the, fuck?” I flew into a violent rage as soon as I swung open the door and comprehended the scene. I gripped Sam by his shirt and dragged him off of you, shoving him into the wall.
Stuffing himself ashamedly back into his pants, Sam had the audacity to try and pin this on you. “Shit, Max, c’mon man she was practically begging me for-”
I took a swing and hit him in the face so hard I thought my hand had broken. He collapsed on the floor. “What the fuck man, I told you to keep your fucking hands off my girl!”
I turned back to observe you as you recoiled and shrunk back into the corner of the room. Your whole demeanor told me everything I needed to know; from your tear-stained cheeks and the streaks of mascara to the way your entire body seemed to shake. There was no scenario where I was going to believe you asked for this. I turned my attention back to Sam.
He tried to drag himself up from the floor but I planted my boot firmly in his gut. He doubled over, and vomited all over the carpet. And in my continued rage I turned and kicked hard at his guitar, causing a fair amount of damage as it hit the ground. “Fuck you, man. You ever come near her again I swear to God, I’ll-”
I cut my sentence short. He was too far gone to care about my threats and you needed me. “Baby it’s okay, I’m here it’s okay.” Nothing about what Sam had done to you was okay, and couldn’t fix what had happened, but I didn’t know how else to reassure you. You looked up at me from that bed, with your wide and fearful eyes filled with regret.
“M-Max I didn’t. I didn’t- I, I, tried to-” You were shaking; unable to form a coherent sentence and trying to clarify this was all on him and not you; but I was already wholly aware and I pulled you up from the bed with both hands and held you against me, allowing you to bury your face in my chest.
“Shh, baby I know, I know. I’m sorry.” I kissed the top of your head and held you tight in my attempts to console you.
“I wanna go home.”
I loosened my grasp and nodded, putting my arm around you and leading you past Sam – who was hunched over on the ground and looking repentant in a pool of his own vomit. “Don’t worry, I’m taking you home.”
With my arm around your shoulder I walked you back out into the party, and we ran straight into Jonnie. “Max, shit what happened?”
You tried to hide your face as I answered him. “I want Sam out the band.”
“What?”
“Look I’m not talking about this now, I need to call a cab. Will you just...” I turned my attention back to you, holding your chin gently. “Stay with Jonnie for me okay? I’m just gonna use the phone.”
“Max no-”
“Babe I promise he’ll look after you. I’ll only be a minute. You need to get some air.” I kissed your forehead and left you with Jonnie as I headed to the kitchen to call for a cab. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gestured to the front door with a nod of his head. You felt uncomfortable but you let Jonnie take you out to the front yard and he walked you to the edge of the sidewalk, away from the frenzy of drinking and dancing and the suffocating air of the party.
He’d tried asking you what happened but you didn’t want to talk about it, so you resolved to stand in silence for the two minutes it took me to come out and join you. “Thanks Jonnie. Cab’s gonna be about ten minutes.” I pulled out two cigarettes, lit them both, passed one to Jonnie and then pulled you into me and wrapped my arms around you protectively. “He’s out the band, man. End of the fucking line.” I took a long drag and exhaled upwards toward the dark, night sky.
“Max you can’t just kick him out.” Jonnie protested.
I chuckled presumptuously. “Oh, I fucking can.” I pointed a finger back toward the house. “After the shit he just pulled-”
“You haven’t told me what happened.” Jonnie ran a hand through his scruffy long hair and shifted from one foot to the other. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to say it out loud because I knew that would make it too real and it broke my damn heart I wasn’t there to protect you. And I felt like everything was my fault.
“He’s a fucking animal, Jonnie.”
“Look I know he can be a bit of an asshole but-”
“He raped me.” You moved away from my chest and you said what I couldn’t. Jonnie was stunned into silence as his gaze moved between the both of us. And then I saw the brief expression of accusation on Jonnie’s face as he lifted his cigarette to his lips, and he frowned vaguely.
I jumped to your defense immediately and shoved a finger in Jonnie’s face. “No. No man this was on him don’t you fucking dare-”
“Hey I didn’t say shit. Look Max, if you believe her then so do I. But you can’t just throw him out the band that’s not your decision to make.”
“What if it was your girlfriend? Huh? How’d you feel about Sam then?”
“So now she’s your girlfriend?”
“Don’t change the fucking subject!” Believe it or not, I didn’t often lose my temper. Jonnie had likely never seen me this irate because I was generally a sedentary guy and although I could get a little tense and wound-up some of the time, I rarely lost my shit altogether.
Jonnie shook his head and took a couple steps back. “I think we need to talk about this when everyone’s fucking sober.” He threw his cigarette on the ground and headed back toward the house, leaving us alone to wait on the taxi cab.
“Are you okay?” I regained my composure and my tone lowered to a hushed concern as my gaze met yours directly. You weren’t crying anymore, but your dark makeup was smudged around your eyes and I could tell by the way you tried to hide your face from me you were reluctant to look at me. I tilted your chin with my thumb so I could admire you. “Hey, you don’t have to hide from me.” My jaw tightened. “Do you think you need the hospital or-”
“-No. No I just want to go home.”
Chapter 8: Hell of a Party - Part 2
Chapter Text
The ride home wasn’t easy; you were shaky; jittery; apprehensive. You were craving more coke and I was right there on the threshold with you. What we needed was sleep but I knew neither of us were going to be able to deny the remainder of that little bag of white powder until it was all used up, and I’d convinced myself it was the best solution to distract you from what’d happened at the party. At least my apartment was a secure and controlled environment, where we’d only have each other for company. Yeah, I was all for doing the rest of the coke and staying high until sunrise.
As soon as we stepped through the door of my apartment, you shut yourself in the bathroom. I heard the shower running, and I decided the simplest thing was to let you get on with whatever you needed to do to feel okay. I thought about knocking; interrupting you; but I really didn’t know what to do for the best. So, I kicked off my boots; I grabbed a bottle of vodka; I took out my credit card and a dollar bill before throwing my wallet onto the kitchen table; and I laid out two neat lines of coke on the bedside table before lighting a cigarette and laying down on the bed.
I waited; laying in semi-darkness with only the yellow glow of the bedside lamp to illuminate the small, dark space. And the muted sounds of the shower water hitting the tiles, and the dull rumble of the city’s traffic below, kept me company.
As soon as you emerged from the bathroom – an eruption of hot steam succeeding you – I sat up in the bed and gestured at the lines behind me. You looked, fragile. And I wanted you to be okay but I didn’t know how to make you okay. I smiled apprehensively and stared up at you with an enticing expression. “You want some more? I really need some more. I was waiting for you.” You didn’t need convincing.
That was the thing about cocaine; once you started you had to keep going. You’d keep going back for the next hit, and the next and the next; just chasing the high until there was nothing left and it brought you crashing back down to reality. And, you didn’t realize it, but I knew the comedown was going to suck.
But the night was still young.
You crawled onto the bed in just your towel and I did the courteous thing and rolled the bill for you to do the first line. I made sure you were good, and then I took my own share. We both leant back against the wall beside the bed and waited for the effects to kick in. I finished my cigarette, downed a full mouthful of vodka straight from the bottle then passed it to you. There was no hesitation and I knew you were drinking to forget what had happened.
Scrunching up your face up and clenching your jaw as you swallowed down the vodka, you leant over me to place the bottle beside the bed, and then you took a deep breath. “Max?”
“Yeah babe?” I rolled my head to face you and placed my hand tentatively on your thigh just below the towel line and massaged your skin gently.
You ran your hand through your damp hair and smiled. “You told Jonnie I was your girlfriend.”
Of all the things you could have said… I huffed out a soft laugh and squeezed your thigh, slipping my fingers a little further between them, testing your consent. “Yeah that just, kinda slipped out.”
“You know, I could be.” Our eyes met.
“Yeah?” The corner of my lips curled into a grin and I inched my hand slightly higher.
“If you wanted me to be.”
“Is this the vodka and the blow talking?”
“Do you care if it is?”
I smiled sincerely and shook my head. “You are so, fucking, beautiful.” I moved my face closer to yours, and I parted my lips to kiss you, but I hesitated. “Are you sure, you’re okay? I don’t… I don’t wanna do anything to hurt you.”
You smiled reassuringly and placed your hand against my chest. “I’m okay. I am.” Whether you really were okay or not, I didn’t know.
“It’s just… I hate what happened. I feel like it’s my fault. I mean it is my fault.”
You shook your head gently and looked me directly in the eyes. “No.”
“Going there was my idea, the coke was my idea, leaving you with Sam was-”
“Stop it.” Your voice was firm. But it didn’t matter what you said, I felt at least partially responsible. I wanted to make it up to you. “Just kiss me, Max.” But I also wanted to do that, and your words were easily all the permission I needed, so, I gradually closed the gap between us and pressed my lips delicately against yours, my one hand holding your face whilst the other carefully unwrapped the towel from around your body.
Slowly, I eased you down onto your back, discarding the towel entirely and I laid down on top of you. Our mouths stayed in continuous contact; tongues intermittently brushing against one another’s and our lips only interrupted by the way we smiled and breathed desirously against one another.
But, I didn’t want to rush any of this; I wanted to tease and excite and make it last all night. So, I pulled up a little and I smiled down at you, running my fingers playfully over your neck. “You want some more vodka? And I could put some music on. We’ll have our own fucking party, just me and you.” Before you could answer I climbed off of you, passed you back the vodka bottle, and pulled off my shirt. “And I feel like, we should both be naked.”
“I think I kinda love that plan.” You sat up, leaning on your elbows and swallowed another bitter mouthful of cheap vodka, as I riffled through a stack of CD’s on the coffee table under the window.
“You like Nirvana?”
“Nevermind?”
I rolled my eyes with a grin. Of course, you liked Nirvana. “Well fucking, obviously.” I stuck the CD in the player, hit play, and dropped back onto the bed. You handed me the vodka as Smells Like Teen Spirit started playing, and I took a couple more mouthfuls.
“What happened to naked?” You pulled me back down beside you and I dropped the vodka onto the floor next to the bed. I shivered and watched as you traced a finger lazily and quite deliberately down my bare chest and stomach until you reached leather at my waist. I shrugged, with a stupid grin on my face, and I tucked my hands behind my head and continued to stare down at your touch.
“No one’s stopping you.” I urged, trying not to let my impatience show. I clenched my stomach and shifted my hips as you pressed your palm against the bulge already formed beneath the smooth, black leather of my pants.
“You’re hard, Max.” You stated the obvious, squeezing gently with a teasing smile. I exhaled quietly and my eyes fluttered momentarily.
“Yeah, you kinda have that effect on me.” I looked back down as you unzipped me, and I lifted my hips eagerly off the bed so you could strip my pants all the way off, along with my boxers.
“Now, we’re even.” You laughed gently and then rolled over to press your chest against mine; only half-laying on top of me. I pulled one hand out from under my head and twisted my fingers through your damp hair, pulling you closer to me so our lips were back to brushing tenderly.
I could feel the vodka and cocaine in my system, and so could you. It left us feeling euphoric; animated and blissful and unbelievably aroused.
Thinking didn’t even come into it anymore. In Bloom began to play on the stereo as our lips connected and we kissed more passionately than before. Your leg shifted over mine and I pressed my thigh up between your legs as I held you and you couldn’t help but begin grinding against me, craving whatever friction I could provide.
You moved your hand down my body but in and instant I switched our positions and took both of your hands in mine; pressing you down into the mattress and curling my fingers between yours, pinning your hands gently either side of your head as we continued to kiss.
“Baby, if anything’s too much… At any point, just tell me.” I needed you to know I respected you, and if you wanted out at any time, you only had to say it. You nodded in understanding, and our eyes connected for just a moment before I leant back down and pressed my lips firmly against your neck to trail wet, biting kisses over your hot skin.
You reacted by rolling your head back and arching your chest off the bed and I took that as an invitation to kiss you there. My teeth left light marks on your body as my mouth moved over your breasts and I tasted every inch of you; wanting to leave no part untouched. With every deep sigh I elicited from you by sucking and teasing at your flesh, I felt my arousal only growing. But I absolutely was going to make this last as long as I feasibly could.
I let go of your hands – which left you free to grip my mess of dark, blue-black hair – and dragged my fingers laboriously down your body to squeeze your ass and lift your hips. And I arched my back, grinding enthusiastically into you.
“Max…” You were gasping.
It was as though I could read your mind. “I’m not gonna fuck you.” You whimpered frustratedly beneath me as I mumbled against your chest, still teasing your sensitive breasts. “Not yet.”
“Max-”
“Not. Yet.” I grinned and moved lower. “Not even if you begged me.” And I licked from your navel back to your chest before pushing your legs apart and lifting them over my shoulders. I kissed your thighs; and smiled against them as I could see the bruises which previously concealed your skin were now near-absent. But I paused, and my smile faded. And a realization hit me quite abruptly as I sat back on my knees and lowered your legs.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just – I can’t help thinking about…” I didn’t want to say it, but you seemed to understand. At least I thought you did.
“You don’t want to fuck me?” You moved back up the bed and sat up, and your expression conveyed some kind of shame, like what happened with Sam repelled me. And that wasn’t true.
“No. I do. God, baby I want nothing else it’s just… It’s not you. And it’s not, because of, what happened tonight. I mean it is. But not in the way you think.” It wasn’t because I didn’t want you, or because it made me think of him. I wanted you more than anything else in the world. The truth was I felt like I didn’t deserve you and I didn’t want to cause any more hurt than I already had. I looked back at you. “I’m bad for you, baby. I got you out of one… Abusive situation and I’ve been the cause of another.”
“That’s not true.” You moved forward and took my face in both your hands. “If you hadn’t helped me get away from Jake, my situation would have been a whole hell of a lot worse. Let me decide what’s good or bad for me, Max…” And there was something in the way you looked at me that made me realize you wanted me, regardless of how good or bad we were for each other. “Right now? Right, now? You can’t be anything other than good for me.”
I’d never felt a connection like this before. Not with any girl. And sure, you could have blamed it on the drugs and the drink and the carnal desire to fuck like animals but, deep down I felt it was more. “You mean that?” I kissed your thumb as you touched my lips.
“Yeah.” You did mean it. It that moment, for better or worse, all you needed was my touch and my affection and my passion for you.
I placed my hands over yours and smiled, and for a second, we lost ourselves in one another’s gaze. “That’s, that’s good.” My smile was accompanied by a barely-there and hesitant laugh. “That’s great. Because I really do wanna fuck you.” And my arms wrapped around you as I pulled you backward onto the bed with me and I held you firmly on top of my body as I kissed you passionately. You kissed me back with as much enthusiasm and then you began kissing progressively further along my jaw, down my neck and across my shoulders, reciprocating the bite marks I’d awarded your own skin. “Turn around.” You looked up from my chest with a hesitant stare as I panted heavily beneath you. “I wanna taste your cunt. Turn around.”
You pressed your lips to my chest one more time and then with a smile and an obedient sigh you did as I requested, positioning yourself so your knees were either side of my head; granting me access to taste your enticingly sweet arousal. And you took every delight in requiting my enthusiasm; gliding your tongue from the base of my cock to the tip and teasing me there as I gripped the top of your thighs and spread you, sinking my own tongue inside your aching heat.
And that first stroke of my tongue between your lips caused you to moan around my cock, and for the muscles in your thighs to tighten. Your mouth was placed around me; engulfing me; swallowing me and applying all the right pressure in all the right ways. I rolled my hips to match your rhythm, gently fucking your mouth.
My tongue played around your entrance, lapping at your wetness and flicking relentlessly over your clit. I brought a finger to you and drove slowly and gradually inside; curling and stroking and edging you toward climax.
I didn’t want it to happen too fast. But that was the best thing about sex when you were drunk and high on coke; we were both as turned-on as was humanly possible but reaching orgasm was generally, not the easiest thing to do. I knew I could make this last all night, if I wanted to.
We continued to tease and suck and lick until I just couldn’t take it anymore and I lost all self-control and any command I had over my urge to just take you. I pulled away, moved you off of me and I laid down on top of you. I smiled against your lips, tasting myself and giving you a taste of yourself, as I humbly admitted, “Okay, I really gotta fuck you now.”
“About time.” You laughed agreeably in response and wrapped your arms around my back, lifting your legs as I finally slid myself all the way into you. You exhaled a breathy moan and I reiterated with a low groan of my own. I withdrew, and then drove inside you again, sighing heavily with each deep and calculated forward movement. Steadily, I built up a substantial rhythm, and I looked down into your eyes as I rocked unwaveringly against you.
“Max… Oh, yes, Max-” I loved hearing you say my name.
“You like that?” I was panting hard and sweat began to bead on my forehead. You couldn’t form words but I took your moans as a yes. “I’m not gonna stop.” I closed my eyes and lowered my head against your shoulder; my thrusts coming harder and faster and bringing you all the pleasure I was capable of. You were practically screaming and it wouldn’t be long before the neighbors were banging on the damn walls but I didn’t give a fuck because in that moment, you were the entire world and nothing else mattered.
Even given the circumstances I was surprised neither of us came, because I kept that up until there was only one song left playing on the album. But something had to give, and it was my endurance. I rolled off you and laid back on the bed, trying to catch my breath. “Give me a second, babe.” I gripped your thigh and closed my eyes.
Your gasping complimented mine, and after a minute or two you asked, “Hey, tell me there’s still some left?” I knew exactly what you were asking for.
I nodded, and grinned dangerously. “Yeah. Just enough.”
Enough for one line each. That’s what was left. I sat up on the bed, against the wall near the bedside table and I readied it for you. And I knew you were doing it on purpose when you laid across my lap to inhale your share; you knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands from squeezing your ass – and God, the things I could’ve done with that ass. You sighed softly, wiped away the residue, and rolled off me to reach for the vodka bottle again. “What about you, Max?” You took an unpleasant mouthful and then laid back down.
With a mischievous smirk, I picked up the bag and I told you, “lay still.”
You laughed. “What?”
“Just fucking lay still, baby. I don’t wanna waste it.” And carefully, I tipped the remainder of the powder onto one of your breasts, leaned down, and snorted the last of the cocaine from your skin, before sucking at your nipple and licking off the bitter remnants. “Fuck.” I screwed my face up and clenched my jaw in reaction to the aftertaste, and took the vodka bottle from you to wash it down – which in honesty, didn’t taste much better than the coke.
As I sat there and waited for the next high to set in, I noticed how silent the room had suddenly become; I could hear the pounding of both of our chests. “Offspring?” You asked curiously.
“Fuck, you have good taste. Ignition?” I slid off the bed and rummaged through my CD collection to find The Offspring’s Ignition album and I switched out the CD’s, smirking at the way you moved against the bed as Session began to play. I dropped back down and propped myself against the wall again. “Hey babe, come here.”
You did just what I wanted, moving up to straddle my lap, moving your hips and body in time with the music. “I think I’m drunk, Max.” You giggled and ran your hands over my damp, heavily beating chest.
“No shit, me too…” I reached over to grab my cigarettes and I turned my head away from you as I lit up and took a drag. I blew the smoke toward the ceiling and asked, “you ready to fuck some more?” And as you lifted yourself I shifted beneath you and slid myself effortlessly back into you, groaning contentedly as you took the lead and began to fall up and down on top of me. With my cigarette in one hand, my other found your hips and my mouth found your breasts, as you closed your eyes and dug your nails lightly into my shoulders.
And when the last high of the cocaine binge really began to take effect, I took one more inhalation of smoke and threw my cigarette in the ashtray, before I pushed you onto your back, and my dominant side really kicked back in; we kissed fervently, and fucked mercilessly.
Shifting up further on my knees I lifted your legs up onto my shoulders and I bared down over you, rocking into you at just such an angle you couldn’t help but cry out weakly with every hard thrust and I had to press my mouth against yours to repress the contentment leaving your lips.
The room seemed to dissolve around us, and I couldn’t focus on anything except you, my approaching orgasm, and getting you there with me. “Baby I’m getting real close…” I smirked with a certain apprehension. “Tell me you’re close ‘cause I can’t-”
“Uh-huh.” You couldn’t articulate your response; but I could hear it in the way you breathed and I could feel it in the way you tensed and I could see it in the way you looked at me. You could feel it building with every stroke; closer and closer; your entire body growing rigid until finally it arrived and you fell apart beneath me; biting back moans of satisfaction as the ecstasy of the moment hit you in waves. It might have been the most intense orgasm you’d ever remembered having. And I was the one to giving it to you.
I let myself go after that; buried to the hilt. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have. But we were both so wasted neither of us bothered to care so I irresponsibly spilled myself deep inside of you with a labored groan. My whole body stiffened and I managed a couple more, less defined thrusts, before collapsing unsteadily beside you.
I let out a long, exhausted groan and I closed my eyes whilst simultaneously grasping for your hand in the semi-darkness. “Oh my God…” My voice came leisurely and was punctuated with gentle, apathetic laughter. “That was so good, baby…” I was absolutely spent and so were you. The room was starting to spin. “I don’t think I was meant to…” I let go of your hand and I reached down your body to acknowledge my warm, thick come as it began to trickle down between your ass cheeks.
All you could manage was to expel another gentle sigh in response, tensing and twisting your hips, allowing me to keep touching you. “I don’t care.” You would in the morning; that much I knew.
I rolled onto my side, getting comfortable and pressing my fingers against you still, and you turned your head to face me when I asked, “you wanna be my girlfriend?”
You giggled, and kissed me gently. “Yeah, I do. And I wanna do this every night.”
I chuckled and kissed you again, still teasing between your legs and making you squirm. “Babe, I couldn’t afford that much blow even if I wanted to do it every night.” I moved myself closer over you and slid a finger easily inside your soaking, twitching heat. “I hate to be the one to tell you but we’re out of coke and you’re gonna hit a fucking brick wall in an hour or so…” I leant up on my elbow, regarding your furrowed brow and open mouth with appreciation as I began to move my index finger passively in and out. “But the sex?” I kissed your chest and began to move faster. “I’ll make you scream my name every night for the rest of your fucking life…”
“M-Max…”
I leant further up and encouraged your legs apart before driving another finger in and increasing the speed at which I fucked you. Your whole body clenched and you gripped the bedsheets in your fists, arching beneath my dexterity and moaning sincerely because, you hadn’t quite fallen from the peak of your preceding orgasm and you were really fucking hypersensitive to the pace and intensity at which I was fingering you.
I wanted to make you come again, simply because I could.
“Say it again…” I wasn’t narcissistic, but there was something about the way my name left your lips when I held you on the brink of climax that was absolutely intoxicating to me. Knowing I could exert so much authority over you was conducive to my sadomasochistic tendencies. I wanted you to submit to me, but that was a pursuit for another day. So, I settled on the insistence you say my name when I made you come. “I love hearing you say my name.”
“I’m, I-” Yeah, you were about to reach you peak all over again.
“C’mon.”
“Max-”
But as aforementioned, cocaine was a hell of a drug and achieving your desired release wasn’t as easy as it otherwise might’ve been. But the effects were starting to wear off and you faltered on the edge for only a little while – and believe me, I didn’t mind the challenge – before you finally fell and I awarded you another incredibly substantial orgasm.
And this time, you did scream my name. “Max! Fuck… Oh my God, Max-”
I breathed out a satisfied sigh and fell backwards again.
We laid there panting; the air thick with the aroma of cigarettes and vodka, and damp sweat and gratifying sex; the distinct scent of our combined release. This time, we really were too exhausted to consider enduring any more. The comedown was the worst.
“I don’t feel so good.” You lamented, laying still in the now silent apartment. “Can’t we get more?”
I rolled my head from one side to the other in a no motion. “It’s all used up, babe. You gotta try and get some sleep.” I glanced at the alarm clock; 2:15AM.
“I can’t.”
I felt around for your hand and pulled you closer to me, wrapping my arms around your body. “Just close your eyes, and breath slowly.”
“I… I really like you, Max.” Your head was resting on my chest.
I smirked at your admission and held you tighter, pulling the sheets up over our rapidly cooling bodies. “I really like you too. Like, more than I ever liked anyone.”
“Anyone?”
“Sure.” It was true.
“Max?”
“Yeah babe?”
“You’re really good at making me come.”
I chuckled softly. You weren’t wrong, and I loved the confirmation. “Yeah, I am.”
A few minutes of silence passed but we were both still very much awake and the regret was starting to seep in. “What are you thinking about?”
I smirked again, and very honestly admitted, “sex.”
“With me?”
“Yeah with you.” I thought it was obvious.
“Be more specific.”
“I don’t think you’re ready to hear what I’m thinking about, specifically.”
“Try me.” You teased, shifting comfortably beside me; you seemed to fit so perfectly in my arms it was like we were meant to go together.
“Really? Okay… I’m thinking about how much fun it would be if…” I hesitated.
“If?”
But you asked to hear it. “…If you’d let me tie you down. Your arms, your legs… Spread-eagle in leather restrains.” I heard the soft whimper that passed your lips as you pictured it, “face down,” and I grinned to myself. “I’m thinking about… A light spanking.” I could feel the tension in your body as I spoke. “Followed by something harder. How’d you feel about,” I swallowed hard; thinking about what I could do to you was turning me on, a lot. “About whips?”
“I…”
“You don’t have to answer.” I wasn’t pushing for you to do anything. And knowing what you’d been through, I’d be surprised if you were enticed by my ideas of fun… But you asked, so I was telling. “And maybe I’d blindfold you… So, you wouldn’t know what was coming next when I…”
You took a short breath. “When you?”
“Well, there’s all sorts of fun toys we could try. Things that could go… In all different places. Things that bring pleasure, and things that cause pain; the kind you’d maybe find you get off on. Maybe…” But it was hypothetical. We were still drunk, verging on a comedown and I was half asleep just reeling off the kind of sadistic shit that turned me on.
“Maybe… I kinda wanna find out. My head hurts.” Your head hurt; you felt nauseated; the room didn’t want to stay still and breathing through your nose became impossible making it even more difficult to sleep.
“Yeah, it will do. You’re gonna be okay though, I promise. Just, try to sleep it off. I feel like shit too.” And the longer we laid there, the less either of us wanted to think about sex.
The clock hit almost 5:00AM by the time we’d both managed to fall asleep, and the next morning, reality crashed down hard around the both of us.
And we weren’t ready for it.
Chapter 9: The Morning After
Chapter Text
Waking up on the morning after wasn’t as easy for me as it had been for you; I was splayed out face-down on the bed, snoring. You, on the other hand, had been laying wide awake for hours, staring up at the high apartment ceiling in distracted apprehension, unable to sleep and feeling like you might have to get up and vomit at any moment. I wished you’d woken me, but you didn’t.
You watched the glowing red digits on the alarm clock tick over, making every attempt to regulate your uneasy breaths, and as the display hit 10:48AM I finally began to stir. I swallowed hard; my mouth was dry and tasted like ash and stale vodka. I groaned drowsily and turned onto my back, struggling to open my eyes as the morning’s sunlight filtered in through the tall, clouded windows.
“Ah fuck…” I mumbled as I ran my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes fiercely; smudging what little was left of my black eyeliner from the night before. Then I remembered you. You didn’t move, you didn’t say anything, and as I turned toward you and touched your thigh to bid you a good – although it was truthfully, a lousy – morning, you flinched and pull your leg away from me. “Babe? Are you okay?” I chuckled lightly and tried to focus my eyes on you, but I hadn’t quite adjusted yet to the creeping sunlight. “That was a wild fucking night.”
You swallowed hard and shifted yourself toward the edge of the bed, feeling especially nauseous. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Yeah, coke hangovers suck.” I glanced across to the floor where the near-empty vodka bottle stood abandoned from the evening’s endeavors; it certainly hadn’t helped with how awful we both were feeling.
“No. Not because of that.” As my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I managed to center my gaze on you properly; you’d been crying. Your eyes were bloodshot and you looked worse than I felt.
“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” I sat up and reached my hand out to touch your arm but you wouldn’t let me. Yes, I was an idiot; I should have known exactly what was wrong and why you were so upset but my mind was completely out of focus. You leant forward and put your head in your hands. “Don’t tell me you regret last night. I mean I know we were high as fuck but c’mon, you enjoyed it as much as-”
You bolted to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, voiding your stomach of an entire night’s worth of drinking. I could hear you retching and I sighed heavily; I felt partially responsible. Forcing my unwilling body from the bed, I pulled on some boxers and crossed the short distance of the apartment and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “You need anything?” You didn’t respond, so I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and, despite your unwillingness to respond to me, I opened the door and let myself in. You were slumped over the toilet bowl, shaking. I placed the water on the side of the sink and sat beside you, balancing on the edge of the bath as I brushed my hands through your hair and gently ran my hands up and down your back. “Just, get it all up. You’ll feel a lot better.”
“I feel disgusting.” You admitted.
“Yeah, well… If it helps, I feel like I’ve been runover by a truck, myself. Hot shower and a decent breakfast? That oughta help.” You dragged yourself up from the cold tile floor and precariously made your way over to the sink, gripping it to steady yourself as you rinsed your mouth around with the water I’d brought you. I watched you cautiously as you gazed at yourself in the mirror before you turned on the faucet and splashed your face with water. “You… You’ve been crying… You should’ve woken me up.” I stared down at the floor as all the events from the night before began to flood my mind.
“I’m fine.” You lied and shook your head.
“You’re not. It’s Sam, isn’t it?” I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. Now I was sober, and awake, I really began to comprehend the reality of his actions. You leant further down in front of the sink and your breathing rate accelerated again as you attempted to conceal your tears from me. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and moved behind you. “It’s okay. I’m here.” I moved my lips to your shoulder and kissed you there but you pushed me away firmly and walked back out of the bathroom. Your rejection was discouraging but I followed you anyway.
“Don’t.” You grabbed a pair of jeans and an oversized shirt and collapsed onto the edge of the bed.
“Don’t what?” I stood, near-naked and dazed, in the middle of the room and watched, not knowing what I was supposed to do to help.
“Don’t touch me. Just don’t. I need some air.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks furiously and reached down to seize your boots.
“No way, I’m not letting you leave this apartment until you talk to me.” Without considering the consequences or your own sentiments, I wrenched you boots away and discarded them elsewhere across the apartment.
“Max, I don’t wanna talk about it!” You stood up and made for your boots again but I got in your way and attempted to touch you, again, but you shrugged me off and pushed me firmly away from you.
“Fine.” I clenched my jaw and resentfully allowed you to persist as I began to dress; pulling on a plain, dark grey t-shirt. “But don’t you fucking blame me for last night.”
At my words you stood frozen, and you stared directly at me. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“So fucking talk to me.”
“You watched him rape me, Max!”
My jaw fell in disbelief and I stared back, speechless, as you broke down. “I – I didn’t. I didn’t watch-”
You sobbed as you attempted to explain your accusations. “You saw him do it.”
“I stopped him. If I hadn’t-”
“Max,” You slid down against the wall and collapsed on the floor; despondent and inconsolable. “You saw him do it and you… Your solution was to ply me with more cocaine and get me so drunk I couldn’t think straight just so you could…” You resolved into tears, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face.
“Oh, come on.” I ran my hands through my scruffy hair and paced up and down in disbelief. “I never made you take that coke. I never made you do anything you didn’t wanna do.” Then I dropped down onto my knees in front of you. “I would never, ever force myself on you or, or make you do something you didn’t want to.” My tone became softer and I was trying pretty damned hard to hold back my own tears. “Please, baby look at me.”
Eventually, you looked up and directly into my eyes. “You took advantage of me. You can try and justify it any way you want but, I was raped, Max. Don’t you get that? That’s what happened and instead of doing something about it you gave me more drugs and you took advantage of me.”
“Tell me what I should have done, huh? We were both as high as each other, what should I have done? Called the fucking cops?”
You could hardly concentrate on my face as the tears blurred your vision. “I don’t – I don’t know! I just… I feel… I feel dirty. And used.” You lowered your face again, feeling humiliated and ashamed. I felt sick seeing you in so much distress; I wanted to make everything better but I didn’t know where to start.
“Don’t say that…” I chanced placing my hand on your arm again, and this time you didn’t try to push me away. “What he did to you was – was fucking disgusting. But baby me and you? Last night was… It was what we wanted. It was what you wanted. I hate the thought of you regretting us.”
You looked up at me again and my eyes conveyed my desire for forgiveness. Sure, I probably could have handled the situation better had we both been sober, but I never intended for anything bad to happen and, I knew that underneath the revulsion and the blame, you understood my intentions for you were never anything… Bad. I cared about you.
Slowly, you shook your head. “I don’t. I don’t regret us. But I don’t know if I can-” I wasn’t ready to hear you say you didn’t want to be with me, and I didn’t give you the chance.
“I’m a jerk. I know. And I think about sex like, a lot. And in retrospect? The coke was a bad fucking idea but-”
“Max you said last night you were bad for me.”
“I don’t wanna be.” I was telling the truth. “And I’m sorry. Just tell me how to make it right.”
Without further hesitation, you pulled yourself up from the wall and collapsed into my arms, allowing me to embrace you as you sobbed softly against my chest. I wasn’t expecting your reaction, but I held you close and cradled you as we sat on the floor of my apartment, trying to comprehend the situation we’d found ourselves in. “It’s okay, baby. Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, I promise. I don’t wanna let anything bad happen to you again.”
And I intended to keep my promise.
“C’mon, I need to take a shower and I guarantee you’ll feel ten times better if you do the same. And then we’re going out, and we’re gonna get something to eat.”
I didn’t let go until I was sure you were ready for me to let go. And when I finally did, I touched your chin lightly with my fingers and looked down into your sorrowful eyes and I held your gaze. You conveyed such vulnerability and despondence, but you still looked so beautiful to me.
So, you showered, and you dressed, and then while I showered you made yourself up and fixed your hair and put on a brave face. You pretended like everything was okay and as we left my apartment and stepped out onto the street, I took a deep breath and I asked, “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” For the first time that morning, I saw you smile. I smiled too, and inwardly I sighed with relief as my fingers weaved through yours and I gripped your hand; a firm and reassuring gesture that I cared for you.
I bought you coffee and we shared fresh donuts, seated on a bench in the brisk fall air of a tranquil park. You stared at the ground in silence; hands wrapped around the warmth of your corrugated coffee cup. I took a deep drag from my cigarette and exhaled sideways before looking back at you. “Hey, are we okay?” I hesitated and rolled my eyes, thinking of a better way to rephrase my question. “I mean, do you-” I shook my head and took another drag before deciding to just say exactly what was on my mind. “Look.” I touched your shoulder to fully gain your attention. “I’m not into the whole, dating scene. Which, I know you know. But contrary to, everything, that is Max California… I like you. Like, a lot. And, I feel really fucking bad about last night – and I’ve known you for just, four days, right?” I paused, and I took another nervous inhalation of smoke. “But I don’t wanna fuck this up any more than I already-”
“Max-”
“No okay let me just, let me finish. I like you more than any girl I’ve ever… And, if this is it because I’m a screw up…”
“You’re not a screw up.” You placed your hand on my thigh and squeezed gently. I felt a warm sensation run up my spine and I took another deep breath.
“You think you can give me a chance to prove that?” I gazed at you with sincerity in my eyes and you looked back at me with deliberation in yours.
“The fact that you care enough to, even try and make things right? Yeah, I think I, I wanna take that chance.” You smiled, and I looked down as your fingers found mine again. “But no more drugs.” Your soft laugh melted my heart a little, and I couldn’t help but grin as I looked back up at you.
“No more coke.” I was being sincere earlier when I told you I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to. But I wasn’t about to surrender that casual pastime of mine in its entirety.
You smiled again and shook your head, and I leant forward, throwing my cigarette on the ground to weave my fingers through the back of your hair and pull you closer to me. Our eyes closed; our lips met; our breath caught as I kissed you gently and you kissed me back with tender affection.
As the kiss broke, we found ourselves gazing into one another’s eyes once again; lips scarcely inches apart and breathing the same air; the rich, midday sun illuminating your face. “You’re beautiful, baby, you’re like an angel.”
You smiled and kissed me again; my fingers continued to play delicately through your hair. “I’m no angel. You’ve seen to that, Max California.” We shared in a smirk as we kissed again with the taste of sugar and coffee and cigarettes on our tongues. “More like… A fallen, angel.”
And then I shrugged, and with a playful bite of my lip I whispered, “You dance with the Devil, the Devil don’t change…” I chanced another, more commanding kiss. “The Devil changes you.”
Chapter 10: Fine
Chapter Text
“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Max, I’m fine.”
“’Cause you know you don’t have to-”
“I want to.”
We were laying side by side on my unmade bed; heads turned toward each other and our gaze locked on one another’s. The sun was setting. The apartment was growing dark and long shadows fell up and down over the walls as the city’s traffic moved below us beneath the clouded windows. I moved onto my side to better face you, taking your hand in mine.
“I know you wanna see me play, but I-”
“You told me he won’t be there.” You frowned. I smiled reassuringly.
“He won’t. I had Jonnie speak to him and I swear, baby, if that asshole has the fucking balls to try and find a way back into the band I’ll… I’ll fucking kill him.” In honesty, I didn’t know if I could really take Sam in a proper fight but I sure would’ve given it a go. “But that’s not the point. Jonnie’ll be there. And Mikey. And after everything that happened-”
“I can’t hide in this apartment forever, Max. I want to go.”
“Okay.” I sat up, resting on my elbows and I leant forward to place a single, gentle kiss on your lips. “Okay, you can come.”
We caught a cab to the venue and found Jonnie and his brother at the stage door, unloading our gear from the back of his brother’s van; Eric was essentially our roadie. He was the only one with wheels and Jonnie was the only one with a garage for practice, so it just made sense that we paid him a cut of the gig profits to haul our shit around – not that we ever really made any money.
“Hey.” I leaned back against the wall beside the stage door and lit a cigarette as I nodded at Jonnie and Eric, and I pulled you in close to me; there was a chill in the evenings mid-November air – that, and I liked when you were close to me. I introduced you to Eric; he was shorter than his brother but shared the same dirty-blond hair and scrawny physique. But the way he dragged the amps out of the back of his Dodge Ram van, however, was a good demonstration he was stronger than he looked.
Eric offered you a simple “Hey” in response, followed after a short pause by, “So you’re Max’s latest hook-up, huh?” He chuckled to himself and you raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Screw you, Eric.” I rolled my eyes and drew a long breath on my cigarette, wrapping my hand around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.” I pressed my warm lips against your cold cheek, just to make a point.
“Yeah, yeah I know.” He shrugged with an unconvinced smirk before hoisting a couple guitars out and carrying them through the stage door.
Jonnie shot you a somewhat disinterested smile as a greeting and stared at me with an expression which seemed to question why you were even here at all. It’s not that they didn’t like you, it was just their inability to believe I could actually hold together a relationship which actually meant something; because they knew me. This time it was different, though, and they were just going to have to accept the fact. I bit my tongue to stop from saying something I’d regret. “Where’s Mikey?”
“He’s inside. Look, do you really think we can play without Sam? I mean he’s-”
“Hard Spank doesn’t need him.” I stood up to face Jonnie, exhaling smoke into the air above me; I watched as it caught in the yellow glow of the streetlamp above us before settling my eyes on Jonnie’s. “C’mon, we used to play fine without him.”
“That was a year ago, okay our songs-”
“It’s not up for debate, man. That asshole even thinks about showing his face tonight… Jonnie tell me you fucking told him?" I took a final drag from the cigarette and flicked the butt onto the ground, taking a step toward him.
“Fucking, chill. Yes, I told him.” There was a long pause as I nodded slowly, and he glanced at you again, briefly. “Max he, he feels really bad about what happened.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t give a damn how bad he feels about it.” I shook my head and chuckled in disbelief, my eyes lowering to the ground momentarily. “I mean, Sam was a piece of shit even before he raped my fucking girlfriend.” I felt you pull away at my words and Jonnie simply sighed, taking a couple steps away from us.
“Shit, hey, hey.” I realized my words were insensitive as I turned back to look at you. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to…” My hand touched your cheek and you took a short breath.
You tried to avoid the subject. “Can we go inside? I’m freezing out here.” You were shivering.
“Sure.” I glanced back at Jonnie. “Decision’s final.”
I took you gently by the hand and we headed inside toward what could only loosely be described as a dressing room; we passed Eric, and a couple other guys from other bands playing a set that evening and arrived to find Mikey laid back in the dressing room smoking a joint.
The room itself was cramped and its off-white walls were adorned with posters of L.A. bands and crude graffiti. A worn leather couch – where Mikey sat – was pushed up against one wall, and a couple other chairs, a single-mirrored dresser and a coffee table strewn with beer bottles and magazines were the only other accompaniments in the room.
Most of the places we managed to score gigs were shitty.
“Hey Mikey.” I shot him a grin and gestured for you to take a seat on the couch beside him. You sat down and put your feet up on the table as Mikey greeted me by casually swiping up an open vodka bottle from the floor beside him and holding it out for me.
“Nah, I’m good.” I declined his offer. “Jonnie’s kinda pissed, huh?” You, however, did not decline, and boldly took the bottle without too much thought. I smirked as you took a mouthful. I wasn’t planning on getting shit-face drunk again but I wasn’t about to tell you what to do.
Mikey watched you for a moment. “Yeah. Dude he’s just worried about playing a show without Sam.”
“How about he shows a little faith? We can make do tonight. It’s a small venue, small crowd. And we’ll find a new guitarist.” I lit another cigarette and watched as Mikey closed his eyes and rolled his head back, inhaling deeply.
We had forty minutes to go before our set, and we could hear the thudding bass of whichever band had taken to the stage before us, as we sat and smoked and waited for Jonnie to make an appearance. I didn’t feel like I usually did before a show. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was anxious about playing minus a guitarist and there was uncertainty and tension amongst us. And it didn’t help you felt like everyone held you responsible for me throwing Sam out of the band.
Jonnie headed in just as the previous band headed off stage. I gave him a reassuring slap on the back, “guys we got this. C’mon,” and like a peace offering you held up the vodka bottle for Jonnie and he took it with a tepid smile and swallowed down a couple decent mouthfuls. Then we headed out to set up and soundcheck.
And we played.
We played our fucking hearts out and it went better than we could have hoped for; Mikey killed it on drums, Jonnie shredded lead guitar and picked up Sam’s backing vocals and there I was; doing my best to cover bass as I took my usual position on lead vocals.
You stood with Eric and watched from the wings, sipping on bitter vodka and admiring my entire stage presence; the command of my vocals; the yelling; the sweating; the whole damn performance. I threw you a glance over my shoulder and smirked that seductive and irresistible smirk. And then that gentle bite of your lip and the way your eyes moved over me… An innocence unwillingly drawn to corruption; The Angel to my Devil. I knew from that stare where this night was headed.
As our set ended, I didn’t hesitate to head offstage and straight toward you. I threw my guitar over my shoulder and grasped your face with both hands, hardly stopping for a breath as our lips met and I kissed you hard and with carnal desire. I was hot, and damp, and my lips tasted like sweat and cigarettes and your own of cheap vodka. I pushed you hard up against the wall as you wrapped your arms around my neck, bottle still grasped in one hand as my own hands snaked down to your hips and squeezed you firmly. The adrenaline of playing a successful show was a powerful fucking drug.
“Hey get a fucking room, California!” Jonnie’s playfully bellowed taunt as he and Mikey headed past us broke me from my trance and I reluctantly dragged my mouth away from yours, panting heavily. I grinned, and watched the others as they headed down the short corridor and outside for some air.
I pressed my body back against yours and, trying my luck, I muttered suggestively, “You wanna get a room?” You were drunk; I could see it in your eyes and I could taste it on your breath. But I didn’t see as how that was any reason not to fuck you, this time. I shrugged off the bass guitar and stood it beside the others at the side of the stage, and I took your hand and pulled you with me toward the dressing room.
Door shut and chain pulled across it, my mouth was back on yours within seconds. You dropped the vodka bottle; gripped my shirt; pulled me into you, and as we stumbled across the small space and you fell back onto the tired leather couch, taking me with you.
There was no going slow. No tenderness or delicacy. This was pure, raw lust, and as I released your lips just long enough for us to pull each other’s shirts off, I growled the question, “why’s it when you’re drunk you always wanna screw me?” It was a fair observation, and it was considered with amusement; I wasn’t complaining.
“Lack of inhibition, Max California. I always wanna screw you… Tell me you like it better this way?” Your words were honest, and a small part of me was apprehensive of the consequences when you regained sobriety.
“I like it every way.”
But not enough to want to stop.
Fortunately, this time, one of us was sober. And as you kicked off your pants and I pushed mine down, I was at least adept enough to remember to pull out my wallet and dig out a condom from between its folds.
I leant down to kiss you again, and I pulled your legs up around my hips, and then I drove my cock deep inside you with a single, rigid thrust, eliciting a breathless sigh from you and a low groan from me. I rocked against you with relentless purpose; I was determined to make you come as fast as I could, because I knew I didn’t have a lot in me; sometimes the urgency of a quick, hard fuck was all I needed.
I lowered my head against your shoulder; you closed your eyes; I dug my fingers against your thighs as you dug yours against the slick bare skin of my back. I was sweating hard, breathing harder, and every stroke inside you pushed us both closer to an orgasm which just managed to falter into the domain of decent; all I wanted was immediate release but at least I was still courteous enough to get you there first.
I felt you grow rigid beneath me and the tensing of your muscles combined with the way you moaned without restraint told me it was my turn; I came immediately after you; body quivering gently and my breathy groans low and guttural.
Eventually, I raised my head, and I looked down at you as you lay under me. And I smiled. “You manage to look like an angel even after…” I laughed gently and kissed you one last time before pulling out of you. I sat up, slipped off the condom and began pulling up my pants.
“This couch is disgusting, Max.” You grimaced as you climbed up from it and retrieved your clothes from the floor.
“Yeah.” I laughed again. “Yeah it’s pretty shitty…” I suddenly felt somewhat ashamed for being desperate enough to entertain the idea of fucking you in this shithole of a dressing room. I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck and looked at you guiltily. “You wanna get some fresh air?”
When we got outside, Jonnie and Eric were seated on the floor edge of his open Dodge Ram whilst Mikey leant against the door of the van. They gave me a knowing smirk as we emerged from the stage door. Jonnie passed me a cigarette and the entire atmosphere was lighter now the show was over.
“Told you it’d be fine, didn’t I? We kicked ass, man.” I chuckled and blew smoke sideways as Jonnie grinned and nodded his head in agreement.
“Ah, shit…” Jonnie’s smile dropped.
“What?” I followed his gaze until my own settled on the reason for his regard.
Sam.
I moved in front of you and stared him down. “You aren’t welcome here, man. Don’t make a scene, it’s just kinda pathetic, y’know?”
“Max is right. Just leave it.” Jonnie concurred.
Sam was undeterred. He was carrying a beer bottle and it clearly wasn’t his first; he was drunk which was to no one’s surprise. “Well fuck you guys. Can’t come and congratulate my old band on a well-played show, huh?”
“You were here the whole time?” I chuckled again, and took a drag of my cigarette. “Dude, that’s pretty lame.”
That’s when he caught sight of you. You stayed behind me. Sam laughed and pulled a disinterested face. “Please, don’t flatter yourself. You aren’t worth a second go.” He chuckled as my fists clenched and then he looked toward the others. “Word of advice? She was hardly worth the first go.”
“Sam just shut the fuck up and get-” Mikey attempted to defuse the situation but I’d already seen red. I took the stupid decision to shove him backwards but it was only a matter of seconds before I saw blood and he shattered his beer bottle across my head, slicing my forehead open and sending me to the floor in a shower of broken glass.
“Max!” I heard you yell my name as I collapsed with the impact of the blow; shattered glass digging into my palms as I scraped the sidewalk and blood trickled down the side of my face. You dropped to your knees beside me to try and hold me up as Jonnie and Eric threw themselves at Sam, dragging him away from me; the remaining neck of the bottle dropped out of his hand and smashed on the ground nearby.
“What the hell?” I heard Mikey’s voice, but everything became a blur at that point. You were focused on me and I was focused on the pain emanating from the gash on my head.
“Shit, Max… Are you-” You touched my face and I looked into your eyes. I didn’t know how bad it was, but I could tell it was bad from the way you stared at me.
I swallowed hard and sat up to lean against the wheel arch of the van, completely ignoring whatever was going on with Sam and the others. Wincing, I stared down at my hands, noticing the small shards of embedded glass as the trickle of blood from my forehead reached my neck and begun soaking into my shirt. “I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t fine.
Chapter 11: A Match Made in Hell
Chapter Text
Despite my persistence it wasn’t a big deal – as I attempted to dislodge shards of glass from my palms – Eric drove us both to the nearest hospital before heading back to load the rest of our gear into his van. Jonnie and Mikey had stayed behind to try and talk some sense into Sam, and you were as much a wreck emotionally as I was physically. I didn’t like to see you that way; it hurt.
The E.R. doctor was very much insistent I did need stitches, regardless of my reluctance. And you gave me a stare which conveyed a combination of an I-told-you-so and a silent please be okay, as you sat beside me and anxiously stroked the back of my hand with your fingers. I could feel you shaking; scared. Your eyes held back a flood of emotion as you tried to process the evenings events.
“So, what happened?” I looked in the other direction as the attending E.R. doctor began cleaning the blood from my forehead and questioning me about how I sustained the injury.
I shrugged and lowered my gaze a little further. “Nothing. I don’t wanna talk about it.” Then I squeezed your hand, softly and comfortingly.
He glanced between the both of us, noticing your obvious discomfort regarding the entire situation. I wanted to reassure you; to talk this through with you but I wasn’t going to do it in front of some perfect stranger; doctor or not. “It’s hardly nothing…” He muttered. I was ashamed – not about talking to the doctor; I just really didn’t think it was any of his damn business – but it was the situation I’d gotten myself into. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m making conversation.” He sighed with an almost-laugh. “This is just another Friday night for me. Just another drunk who lost a bar fight. I see it every week.”
I bit my tongue and glanced up at him for a moment. “I’m not drunk and it wasn’t a bar fight. I got jumped, man.” I flinched, feeling the needle tugging at my skin and, involuntarily, I gripped your hand a little harder. You tried to smile.
“So, neither of you have been drinking?” He tried to look me in the eyes but I continued to stare at the floor, shaking my head slightly.
“I was playing a gig, I mean, what do you wanna hear? I guess some people just don’t enjoy the music.” I didn’t want to get into the reasons for it; Sam, the drugs, the rape. And I knew you wouldn’t either. It was a long story and one which didn’t warrant an explanation at this moment.
The doctor finished fixing the gash on my forehead, and he checked my hands over again in case of any glass fragments; they were okay, fortunately, and he assured me the laceration itself was just enough concealed by my hairline that, once healed it shouldn’t stand out.
“You’re okay, right, Max?” I would be, but the tremble in your voice and the frown on your face and the way you were shaking told me you definitely weren’t.
“I’m okay,” I nodded, “I’m okay, it just stings pretty bad.”
Another awkward and avoidant conversation with the doctor and we managed to leave the hospital. It was close to one o’clock in the morning. I lit a cigarette and shoved my hands in my pockets, and you folded your arms and gazed down at the sidewalk, and together we navigated the L.A. night in silence. I could tell you were shaken up from the whole ordeal; the way the rest of the band weren’t exactly impressed with you being there, having to face Sam when I promised he wasn’t going to show, and then seeing me get beat down like that – that was the part I hated the most.
I felt like a deadbeat. I put you in harms way by allowing you to come to the show in the first place. I couldn’t keep you safe and I couldn’t have predicted his actions but I went down in one; it was embarrassing.
I took a long, slow pull on my cigarette and breathed out lazily. “I don’t, I don’t know if I should fucking, apologize, or ask if you’re okay, or promise you that you will be, or that I will be…” I swallowed hard. You didn’t look up. “I’m a fuck up. I know that.”
At those words, you finally looked at me. Pausing beneath the strip-light illumination of a twenty-four-hour liquor store, I could see the gleam of your tears and the run of your jet-black mascara beneath your tired eyes. “Max-”
I reached out and touched your cheek; my thumb brushing away a stray tear. “I don’t mean to get us into these situations… I’m just, I’m bad news.” You looked at me with a forgiveness I felt I didn’t deserve.
“You’re not. He-” you couldn’t bring yourself to say his name- “you, you didn’t know he’d show. It’s my fault anyway.” You lowered your gaze again, but leaned into my touch as I caressed your tear-stained cheek.
“No. None of this is on you.” I insisted as I lowered my hand.
“If I hadn’t gone to the party… If I hadn’t come with you tonight-”
“Hey. He would have shown up tonight either way. This?” I gestured to my forehead. “This would have happened with or without you being there, baby, it wasn’t ‘cause of you. Look sooner or later I would’ve kicked him out the band anyway. Guy’s a real piece of shit. I’ve seen him harass women before; and he’s a drunk, and a fucking addict. Don’t get me wrong,” I paused to huff out a regretful chuckle, “I know I’m not a picture of fucking innocence. I know I’m…” I took a deep breath as my eyes searched yours. “But I’m not like him.”
“I know you aren’t.”
I smiled gently and rolled my eyes. I didn’t deserve you. “Let’s go home, baby. Things will look better in the morning, let’s face it they can’t look much worse.” I sighed, took you by the hand, and eventually, we made it home.
By the time we got back to my apartment it was just past two in the morning. We stepped through the door and I flicked on a lamp; the familiar and dark space felt calm and inviting in the dim yellow glow, and you immediately collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed, watching through tired eyes as I headed for the bathroom.
I pulled the chord above the mirror and stared at my brightly-lit reflection. I looked like Hell; the cut on my forehead; blood on my face and neck. The now week-old bruising around my eye from the swing of your ex, although faded, was a green-yellow and still blatant. I took a breath and pulled off my blood-soaked shirt, discarding it to the floor, and then I leant back over the sink to continue the regard of my face. Whether you blamed yourself or not, I didn’t. I’d have taken it all again and more if it meant keeping you safe.
You gazed sleepily through the open door from your spot on the bed, curled up in a ball with your eyes half closed. I glanced over my shoulder and smiled softly. “You should sleep.” I insisted.
You returned my smile as your lips curled and you kicked off your boots. “I’m waiting for you.” Your words came gently and wearily.
I chuckled, and turned back toward the sink to wipe away the remaining dry blood from my skin with a damp cloth. I cleaned up, then I threw off my boots, I unfastened my pants, and crawled onto the bed beside you.
You reluctantly dragged yourself to the bathroom in attempts to freshen up and wipe away the remnants of your makeup. And after falling back into bed with me, it took only seconds before we were both unconscious and sound asleep in one another’s arms; still partially clothed and with the aroma of cigarette smoke, sex and sweat still clinging to our bodies.
You woke with a start some hours later; damp with sweat and breathing heavily with my name on your lips. I was sprawled on my back but your jolt woke me too, and I shifted onto my side and ran my hand lightly over your arm. “I’m here… Babe, I’m here… What’s wrong?” My eyes refused to open but I kissed your shoulder reassuringly.
“I – I just…” You swallowed hard as you tried to catch your breath.
“You had a bad dream?” I managed to force my tired eyes open, glancing between you and the clock; 07:46AM. You nodded and glanced down at me as my eyes adjusted to the light. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No.” You were resolute. I figured it was probably about him. “Sorry, you should just, go back to sleep.”
I smirked and kissed your shoulder again. “Not until I know you’re okay.”
“What do you see in me, Max?”
“What?” I frowned with a disoriented smile and sat up to rest on my elbow, observing your apprehension.
“Before I walked into your life, you were doing just fine…” There was a pause as I tried to find a way to answer you. “Why’d you ask me to stay?”
I brushed my fingers carefully through your hair. “Because, I… I like you. And…” I bit my lip, softly.
“And… What?” Your hands came to rest on my face as you searched my eyes for clarification.
“I, I didn’t want to see you get hurt. Which is, kinda ironic, given…” My words trailed to silence and I kissed the palm of your hand tenderly before adding an insistent, “don’t leave.”
Your voice faltered and your mouth felt dry. But with a brush of your fingers over my trembling lips you promised, “I won’t.” We were a match made in Hell and nothing but trouble, but, like a drug you just can’t quit we were addicted to one another.
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips delicately against yours, moving myself over you completely. I kissed you affectionately; with an honest and committed passion I’d never felt before. If I was terrified of falling for you before, I was now terrified of the opposite; I didn’t want to lose you and I’d do anything to keep you with me.
My lips moved to the corner of your mouth and across your jaw toward your neck, but the way you said my name gave me cause to stop kissing you. “You… Don’t want to?”
You giggled and pushed me off of you slightly. I was admittedly disappointed you tried to push me away but I was happy to see you smile and hear you laugh. “What I want, is to take a shower.”
“Oh,” I laughed, too, feeling my cheeks growing hot as I moved off of you, “yeah, sure. I’ll just uh, wait here, then.” But I felt you move your hands down over my shoulders and across my bare back, not ready yet to let me go, and the smirk on your face had my mind in all sorts of places. “Although, I could go for a shower myself right now.”
I was pushing my luck.
“Are you, suggesting-” But you didn’t say no.
“If you’ll let me…” I pressed myself provocatively against you.
“I’ve never-” You were hesitant.
“Then let me.” I was determined.
“Max… Your stitches.” Shit.
I touched my forehead and rolled my eyes. I wasn’t supposed to get the stitches wet – not for a day or two, anyway – which made the notion of fucking you in the shower an irresponsible and potentially problematic one. I sighed defeatedly and rolled off of you. “Okay, fine…” I reached behind me and grabbed a cigarette packet and lighter as you sat up on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through your hair. “At least tell me you’ll think of me while you’re in there.” I smirked again as I stretched out and breathed in deeply. You looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?” I shrugged playfully, but you didn’t answer me. Instead, you got up and disappeared into the bathroom.
I closed my eyes and laid back as I listened to the sounds of the shower running behind the closed door, and I allowed myself to picture you. You stripped off your clothes, and stepped beneath the stream of soothing hot water; steam rising around you as the warm, refreshing surge helped wash away your tensions. I pictured as it cascaded down your form; spilling over the curves of your breasts as you lathered yourself in a shower gel which smelled like me.
I couldn’t help it. I was already aroused. One hand on my cigarette, I resolved to reach beneath my boxers with the other. I breathed slowly and deeply; my hand gripping my shaft as I caressed myself and imagined joining you under the heat of the stress-alleviating waters. My body pressed up against your back; my hands firm on your hips; your needy sighs as I spread your legs and thrust myself inside your tight, slick cunt.
My breathing became heavier as I repressed a groan of gratification, feeling myself nearing orgasm already. I continued to think about you and the things I’d do to you. I fantasized about the way I’d push you up against the wall; and wrap one hand tight around your throat whilst my other took advantage of your exposed and vulnerable body; the way you’d moan for me as I fucked you unforgivingly.
I clenched my jaw and felt my body begin to tighten as I worked my hand eagerly over my cock until – I was too in the moment to notice the sound of the water shutting off, and you emerged from the bathroom just as I came and I let out a heavy sigh, spilling myself inside my boxers.
You were staring at me with your lips parted when I opened my eyes again. “Shit… I was – I was just-” There was no point trying to justify anything, so I stopped mid-sentence.
You bit back a grin and nodded with a somewhat stunned expression; you hadn’t expected to walk in on me masturbating, but you also didn’t seem to mind. “Uh huh…” You chuckled lightly as you took a seat on the edge of the bed in just a towel, and I removed my hand from my boxers, ashamedly wiping my palm down the dark fabric.
“I’m uh, gonna grab a shower.” I dropped my half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray and resolved not to look you in the eye as I slid off the bed and left you to it.
You were dressed and making breakfast when I re-emerged. And you did the gracious thing and opted not to mention my inability to inhibit my impulsive sexual desires – I was silently thankful for it.
“Breakfast smells good.” I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a black button-up shirt as I looked in the direction of the kitchen.
You nodded as you stirred eggs around a pan and dropped slices of bread into the toaster. “You hungry? I mean it’s nothing gourmet… Scrambled eggs and toast and uh, maybe sauce,” you started to rummage in the cupboards. “If I can find any… Max, you don’t have ketchup?”
“On eggs?” I chuckled as I watched you rummaging. “No, I uh, I don’t actually.” I stepped up behind you and wrapped my hands around your waist. At first it startled you, causing you to recoil a little. But you soon relaxed against me. I hated the way unexpected physical touch made you flinch, because I knew what it meant and it broke me a little to be reminded of the kind of life you’ve lived. I leant down and kissed your neck as you returned to stirring the eggs in the pan. “It’s okay.” I kissed you again, and you found comfort in it.
You served up breakfast and we sat at the table. I couldn’t help the smile curling at my lips as I watched you take a seat opposite me.
You smiled back apprehensively. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
My grin widened and I shrugged. “No, it’s nothing it’s just, I could get used to this. You know,” I picked up my fork and lowered my gaze, “me, you, breakfast in the mornings? It’s…” I rolled my eyes. It seemed so cliché but I wasn’t used to, any, of this. “I dunno, it’s just nice.” I could feel your eyes on me and when I glanced up you were trying hard to hide a coy smile and I knew you felt the same. I ate a few mouthfuls before I spoke again. “Hey, look, I gotta work tonight but I got the rest of the day. You wanna do something?”
You took a thoughtful pause, and breathed deeply. “I uh, I need to find a job. You know I, I can’t just sit around your apartment. There’s a few places hiring. Couple diners, that sort of thing.”
I frowned. “But baby you hate that. You told me you hate those jobs.”
“C’mon Max, the fuck else am I gonna do, huh?” You dropped your fork and huffed defeatedly.
“I don’t know. I don’t,” I faltered with my words. “We’ll, figure something out… Hey, you got bar experience?” I had an idea. “There’s a club we played at a couple times, okay, they’re looking for bar staff. Owner’s real nice, y’know? He’s not a creep or anything. Maybe I could put in a word?”
You considered for a moment and then nodded half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks, Max.”
Returning my gaze to my plate, I reverted back to the subject of simply hanging out today. “Eat up.” I nodded at the eggs and toast still sitting mostly un-eaten in front of you. “I’m taking you out.” My smirk returned as I continue eating and you looked at me inquisitively, curious as to what I had planned…
Chapter 12: Dumb
Chapter Text
“So, you’ve really never, you know, made love in the shower?” I chuckled, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow; I was genuinely surprised.
You held back a laugh at my use of the phrase made-love, but I was trying to broach the subject respectfully. “No, I haven’t.” You eventually answered, shyly, as I held your hand and we walked through the bustle of a bright and busy Saturday morning in downtown L.A.
“What, you never wanted to?” I pursued the subject.
“It’s not that, I just...” You shrugged and lowered your eyes to the ground.
“What?” I smirked and nudged you playfully.
“Max, my ex wasn’t much for, you know, making love. He just-” It was difficult for you to talk about your ex-boyfriend. Jake was an abusive waste of space and it didn’t cross my mind he probably took what he wanted with little regard for your own satisfaction. I was being an insensitive idiot. Again.
“Shit... I didn’t think... Well, you got me now babe, I’m always gonna put you first. You know that right?” And I meant it.
I felt you squeeze my hand a little tighter in recognition of my sentiments, before you changed the subject. “Where are we going, anyway?”
I was going to make it a surprise but being keen to change the subject, I decided to tell you. “There’s a music store not far from here. Vintage guitars, real decent stuff. I’ve been thinking and, I wanna teach you. I was just kinda hoping you’d like that too. But I want you to pick something out. A guitar, I mean. Anything you want and it’s yours.”
You seemed to be considering my suggestion thoroughly before eventually coming up with an answer. “That’s real sweet,” You smiled softly. “But, what if I’m no good?”
I grinned. “C’mon, everyone’s gotta start somewhere. What do you think?” I watched the smile as it crept over your lips and I knew you liked the idea.
“Are you a good teacher?”
Those words put all kinds of thoughts running through my mind, and I had to bite back a devious laugh. “Baby, I’m a great teacher. There’s all kinds of things I could teach you...” I wasn’t referring only to the music and you knew it.
The store was on the small side; lit by fluorescent yellow strip lights which – aside from aggravating my eyes – bounced a warm glow across the multitude of guitars suspended along its narrow walls; acoustic guitars, bass guitars, electric guitars; Fender Strat’s and Telecaster’s, Les Paul’s, V’s, and everything came in every colour and style you could think of. There were rows and rows of old records, stacked high in boxes pushed up along one wall, and a collection of amps displayed against another. We stepped through the door and I watched your eyes widen as you absorbed the captivating atmosphere.
Taking you by the hand I led you further into the store, but I saw the hesitation on your face. “Max, you know you don’t have to-”
“Baby, I know I don’t have to. I want to.” I glanced up at some of the guitars displayed nearby. “If it’s not your thing though, I get it.” I started to have second thoughts. “Maybe this was a dumb idea...” But girls who dated musicians generally dug guitars; whether they played them or not.
You smiled encouragingly, and looked up alongside me. “No, I’d love to learn.” You hesitated, running your fingers over a dark blue acoustic which had caught your eye. “I’d love for you to teach me.”
I squeezed your hand, kissed your cheek, and watched you browse. I was more interested in watching you than I was browsing the vast array of instruments myself; and that said something. I took a short breath as you glanced at the price tags; although there were some bargains in this second-hand store, not everything was within my price range. “Hey, don’t worry about the price tag, okay? Just, pick out something you like.” But I wanted you to be happy.
You smiled with a nod, and continued to look around, gently grazing the bodies of guitars you liked with your fingertips. Fortunately for me, you didn’t have expensive taste; because when you finally found one you liked – a jet black Fender acoustic – it was one of the more affordable options. I suspected your choice of a more inexpensive model was intentional, though, because you knew we were both pretty fucking broke. “How about this one?” You looked at me like you were waiting for my approval.
“Nice,” I agreed, picking it up to examine it; it was a little worn and had some minor scratches on its body, but it was decent. “You sure you like this one?”
“Yeah. I like that it’s black.”
A chuckle escaped me; you seemed to be swayed solely by its color. Regardless, it was still a good choice. “Then it’s yours.” I was excited by the prospect of getting to introduce you to something you’d never done before – something which didn’t involve sex, or getting messed up on drugs.
As we approached the counter of the modestly-sized store, the owner strode out from the back and shot me a grin as he clocked my face. “Max California, hey man, how’ve you been?” He was an older guy in his mid-fifties, well-built with a salt and pepper beard accompanied by long grey hair which he kept tied back in a pony-tail. He wore a leather vest slung over a white shirt and as he greeted me, his gaze drifted over toward you as you lingered by my side.
“Hey, old man.” I took his hand with a smirk and he shook it firmly with a roll of his eyes, and then I introduced the two of you. “This is Eddie; he’s a real good friend. Had my back I don’t know how many times…”
“I see you’re punching above your weight, California. Assuming you two are going steady?” Eddie chuckled affectionately. “I mean you gotta be, right? Max wouldn’t buy a guitar for just anyone…”
You grinned and glanced at me for a moment before looking back at him. “Yeah, I guess we are. You know each other pretty well, huh?”
Eddie raised an amused eyebrow and slapped me on the back. “Max is like the degenerate son I never had. Met him when he first landed on the L.A streets desperately trying to put a band together.” He leant forward and smiled kindly at you. “You know you’re the first girl he’s actually let me meet…” He was right. You felt your cheeks flush a little at that, until his attention turned back to me. “Hey what the fuck happened to your face, anyway?” Eddie grabbed me by the chin and tilted my head as he surveyed the now-yellowing black eye and the gash on my forehead. I shoved him away coolly as I stepped backwards, still holding the guitar.
I shrugged, brushing off the injuries like they were nothing; truthfully, I was okay, aside from a nagging headache. “Just, got in a fight with some douchebags is all.” Eddie stared me down. I couldn’t lie to him. “Okay you remember Sam?” As I spoke, I could sense your discomfort. “He turned out to be a grade-A piece of shit…”
“You gotta stay out of fights, Max.”
I glanced at you sideways. “Even when it’s for a good reason? Man… You don’t need to worry about me. Hey, can you do me a deal on this?” I changed the subject quickly and placed the guitar on the counter.
Eddie shook his head with an exasperated laugh; he knew what I was like. “Sure, sure. How about… Sixty-five?”
I smirked and nodded. It was worth twice as much; I knew he’d cut me a good deal. “Thanks, pops, I owe you one.” I paid up and took the guitar, and Eddie shook his head amusedly as he stashed the money in the register. “I’ll see you around.”
“Nice meeting you, Eddie. I’ll try and keep him out of trouble.” You giggled and I rolled my eyes as we headed out.
I carried the guitar for you as we strolled back toward my apartment. It was a slow walk; we were in no rush and honestly it felt, nice, to be around each other so casually.
“You never mentioned Eddie before.”
I shrugged. “There’s a lot I’ve never mentioned…” I shoved my free hand into my jeans and stared at the ground as I contemplated admitting this next part. “But uh, I wanna. I mean, I want you to be a part of my life.” I swallowed hard. I really sucked at this whole relationship endeavour but I was trying. I shook my head. “Eddie is… He’s just a good guy. Probably the only really good guy I know.” I pulled out my cigarette packet and lifted it to my mouth, pulling a cigarette between my lips and then fumbling one handed with the lighter. My eyes met yours briefly as you took the lighter and lit the cigarette for me.
“I’m really the first girl you’ve let meet him?”
I shrugged, nonchalant, and breathed out a stream of smoke into the air as I replied with a simple, “Yes,” not wanting to make a big deal of it. Truth was, Eddie was the closest thing I had to a father figure in my life. And it meant something that I’d let you meet him.
I felt you move closer and your arm wrapped around mine as we walked. I smiled, and kissed your head softly. I was falling harder and faster than I’d ever meant to.
“Here, like this.” Hand over hand I showed you how to play a few basic chords; E Minor, E, into an A Minor. “That’s it.” I sat opposite you on the bed, and smiled to see the determination on your face and the way you bit your lower lip as you concentrated. “Try that one again…” I moved back, leant sideways and picked up one of my own guitars. “Look, copy me.” Our eyes met briefly but I resolved to focus on the task at hand. And you did good, considering you’d never done this before.
“Max, I don’t think I’m very good at this.” You frowned as you attempted to follow my lead. I disagreed.
“Bullshit.” I chuckled. “You just gotta practice. You’re actually picking it up pretty fast.” I watched you a little longer and, slowly, your fingers followed mine and you picked up my rhythm. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard; I was used to performing, but with you, alone in my apartment? It was different…
“I’m not like them, but I can pretend. The sun is gone, but I have a light. The day is done, but I’m having fun, I think I’m dumb… Or maybe just happy…”
I smirked coyly as the words left my mouth and you focussed on not messing up.
“Think I’m just happy… Think I’m just happy… Think I’m just happy…”
And all doubt and apprehension left me when you looked back up into my eyes, and I kept on singing.
“My heart is broke, but I have some glue. Help me inhale, and mend it with you. We’ll float around, hang out on clouds. Then we’ll come down… And have a hangover… Have a hangover…”
We kept playing and I kept singing and you kept listening.
“Skin the sun. Fall asleep. Wish away. The soul is cheap. Lesson learned. Wish me luck. Soothe the burn. Wake me up.”
I offered you an encouraging glance.
“I’m not like them, but I can pretend. The sun is gone, but I have a light. The day is done, but I’m having fun, I think I’m dumb… Or maybe just happy…”
I’d played slow; slower than Nirvana’s Dumb needed to be played but you’d kept up and I was impressed.
“Hey, Max?” You set the guitar down beside the bed.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
I brushed off your thanks and leant my guitar against the wall. “You don’t have to thank me, it’s nothing-”
“No, not this… Everything. And for what it’s worth, you’re not dumb.” You raised an amused eyebrow as I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah? I still feel pretty dumb for getting caught jacking off this morning.” I hid my embarrassment behind a laugh, and then gestured to my stitches, lowering my head. “And this? Jeez, baby I don’t know why you’re sticking around but…” My hands found yours as they rested in your lap. “I’m glad you are.”
And I would’ve kissed you right there and then, if the fucking phone hadn’t started ringing. You expelled a sigh of discontent and I considered leaving it to ring off… It kept ringing. “You should just answer it, Max.”
You were right. So begrudgingly I rolled off the bed and grabbed the receiver and in a sarcastic and impartial tone I answered with “You’ve reached Max California and it’d better be fucking important becau- Oh, hey Jonnie.” I glanced back at you and mouthed it’s Jonnie to which you responded with a fabricated roll of your eyes as I stated the obvious. “Yeah man I’m fine… Yes, I’m sure. Head kinda hurts but it’s just a few stitches, that’s all.” I glanced back at you and my eyes widened; you were casually stripping off your shirt and you leaned back against the mattress with a teasing look which begged me to get off the phone. “Look Jonnie it’s not a good time, man, I’m uh…” You unfastened your belt and I made a faint whimper. “Can I maybe call you back-” I watched as you laid back fully, closed your eyes and slipped your hands beneath your underwear. “Look I really don’t give a shit about him, as long as he doesn’t-” My words caught in my throat as I watched your hand move inside your pants and my brain failed to register anything Jonnie was saying. “Oh… Shit…” I muttered as your breathing grew heavier and you sank into my bed and pleasured yourself. Jonnie’s voice interrupted me. “No, nothing. I just – now’s kind of a bad time.”
“Max?” Your voice was needy and teasing and I knew you were doing all of this on purpose.
“Yeah baby?” I lowered the phone, although I could still hear Jonnie on the other end trying to get my attention.
“Would you feel less awkward-”
“Jonnie shut up man, I’m hanging up.”
“About this morning…” Your breathing was deep and heavy.
I threw the phone back on the hook, and my shirt onto the floor as I made my way back to the bed. “Hmm?”
“If you watched me do the same thing?” You were being a real tease, and I liked this side of you; your trust around me was growing with the time we were spending together.
“Fuck… Baby you’re really turning me on, but it’s no fun if I only get to watch.” I was needy; my cock already hard and my tongue craving the taste of your skin.
You opened your eyes again as I crawled onto the bed and looked down at you. My fingers trailed along your arm and downward to cease your movements and I gripped your wrist firmly in my hand. You gasped softly as you looked up at me bearing down above you.
“What’s got you so worked up, anyway?” I breathed, keeping a firm grasp on your wrist.
You swallowed hard. “C’mon… Don’t tell me Max California is unaware of what his voice does to women?” You tried to reach back down; I didn’t let you.
“My singing gets you hot?” I was flattered. And horny as hell. You shrugged with an avoidant smirk and let your gaze wander down to where my hand was holding onto you. “Do you want me to let go?”
You shifted under me and answered with a simple, “No,” so I grinned, and moved your arm further up the bed.
But it was still with hesitation, I asked. “Would you trust me, if I wanted to…” My eyes searched yours. “…To really, restrain you?” The corner of my mouth curled as I continued to move your hands above your head and my hips between your legs, pressing myself against you. “I have handcuffs. I just think they’d look really fucking good on you…”
Before you could answer, my mouth found yours and I kissed you hard; you returned my affections with as much passion and then I trailed my lips other places; kissing your jaw, sucking your neck; licking and biting and tasting your hot, smooth skin. My mouth found your breasts as your back arched to meet with my eager advances; I wanted to tie you down and devour you.
But? My headache seemed to be worsening…
With reluctance I stilled my movements and let go of your wrists, taking a deep breath.
“What, what’s wrong?” You frowned with an insecurity spreading over your face. “I want to. I’d let you-”
“It’s not that. It’s just… My head.” I rolled away and laid down beside you.
You sat up a little and looked down at me, touching the side of my cheek. “It’s okay.” Your voice conveyed a certain amount of disappointment, although the concern in your gaze was far more prevalent.
Here I was, back to feeling dumb. “Fuck… Baby I’m sorry. I- I feel kinda, nauseous.” I closed my eyes and huffed out a defeated sigh.
“Max you’re probably a little concussed.” You stroked my face and I felt my whole body slowly relax. “Maybe you should sleep.” Last night’s head injury was catching up with me and it only gave me one more reason to despise that piece-of-shit, ex-band-mate of mine.
“I don’t wanna sleep.” I disputed with discontent, my eyes still closed. “Wait, you said you want to?”
You glanced at the clock – 1:17pm – then laid down next to me and closed your eyes, too, and continued to lightly stroke your fingers over my cheek and chin, toying with my barely-there scruff of a beard. It was sedating. “Yeah… I think I do. But Max, it might make you feel better if you sleep.”
“Babe… I have to be at work for three…” I was already drifting off.
You kissed my shoulder, wrapped your arms around me and shifted closer. You were still pretty turned on, there was no denying that; and so was I. But the exhaustion and lack of sleep from the previous night had caught up with us both and so, together, we drifted into a comfortable and necessary sleep…
Chapter 13: Trust
Chapter Text
It wasn’t until the phone rang again some three hours later, we finally woke up. At first, I simply grunted and rolled over to hold you, ignoring the persistent ringing. I furrowed my brow and you buried your face against my chest as I muttered dazedly, “Fuck… off…” Which was swiftly followed by a “Oh, shit.”
I was late.
I groaned and dragged myself up from the bed, rubbing my eyes and squinting at the alarm clock as the phone continued to ring out through the dimly-lit apartment. The sun was low and as my eyes came into focus the time registered; 4:38pm.
You huffed and pressed your face into the pillow as I rolled off the bed, and I simultaneously grabbed my shirt from the floor and the phone off the hook. I cleared my throat as I answered. “Ugh, hello, it’s Max.” It was my boss, and he was pretty pissed I hadn’t shown up for work. “Yeah, no, sorry I uh… I was in the hospital and – no, no last night but – yeah, I’ll be there.” I hung up and muttered “asshole” under my breath as I pulled my shirt on.
Slowly, you lifted your gaze and looked over at me. “How’s your head?”
“It’s… Okay.” Truthfully, sleeping had helped. It was less a concussion and more a headache due to lack of sleep, I figured. I sat back on the edge of the bed to pull on my boots and I felt you move up behind me and kiss my neck. I smiled and reached back to touch your thigh. “Sorry baby I’ve gotta go to work…” I turned to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“You want me to keep you company?” You kept kissing me, and I swallowed to suppress a groan; you were making it difficult for me to get up and leave the apartment.
“No, babe, not tonight.” I shook my head. “I don’t wanna give the boss any other reasons to fire my ass.” Managing to tear myself away from you, I picked up the black acoustic and laid it on the bed. “Hey, why don’t you practice? And there’s a number for a Chinese takeout on the fridge, and some cash in the dresser.”
“Max-”
I leant forward and kissed you firmly on the lips to silence you, because I knew you hated I kept having to pay for stuff. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to that bar and we’ll see about getting you a job, okay?” You nodded in response. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door. “I- I’ll see you later… And don’t answer the door for anyone besides the takeout guy, okay?” I didn’t think he was dumb enough to try it but if Sam came knocking and I wasn’t there… It wasn’t a scenario I wanted to think about.
And then I was gone. You laid back down on the bed and stared aimlessly at the ceiling, contemplating what the fuck it was you were doing with your life. You were kind of a mess; lost and vulnerable and uncertain what your future held. Hollywood wasn’t all it was made out to be and I was just one more dead-beat guy who, in the long run, was probably no good for you. But you’d found solace in addiction, and your drug of choice was me.
Whilst I was gone, you practiced the chords I taught you, ordered Chow Mein and flicked through more back issues of Rolling Stone. You thought of me, and I thought of you; a welcome distraction from the monotony of selling dirty magazines and explicit movies to horny old perverts and middle-aged men trying to spice up their love lives. Don’t get me wrong, I had nothing against people’s recreational choices and taste in the obscene because I had some pretty extreme inclinations myself. But the tedium of it was mind-numbing after a while. Sometimes I read – my books obscured from the general public because believe it or not, the kinda shit we sold wasn’t a vice of mine. I liked to think I was more sophisticated than that… I couldn’t concentrate, though; my mind was on you.
I arrived home somewhere around 11:30pm and found you laying on your stomach on my bed in nothing but your underwear; arms draped over the side and head resting on your shoulder as you flipped listlessly through the magazine laying on the floor in front of you. You’d just landed on an article about Marilyn Manson when you paused and looked up.
I smiled at the sight of you near-naked form. “Hey, baby. You miss me?”
“Maybe, a little.” You baited, shifting onto your elbows so your breasts were on full display; I couldn’t help but stare; you were doing it on purpose. “There’s some takeout left in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Oh, nah I’m good. I grabbed something earlier.” I approached you cautiously, kicking off my combats and dropping a black plastic carrier beside the bed as I slid behind you.
You smirked inquisitively with a turn of your head, and the shine of my eyes in the warm light of the bedside lamp was almost predatory. “What’s in the bag, Max?”
“Mm, that’s a surprise.” I perched on my knees, spread your legs, and settled myself between them. My hands ran lazily up the back of your calves and over your thighs; thumbs scarcely brushing your ass and the edge of your underwear before sliding over your hips and up your back.
You closed your eyes as I reached your shoulders, and a content sigh passed your lips as I massaged you gently. “What kind of surprise?” Your voice was low but curious.
My breath caught in my throat as I worked my hands over your body and exuded a low chuckle. “One I hope you’re gonna enjoy. You wanna find out?”
“Okay… I mean, yeah. Yeah I do.” You were somewhat anxious, but the desire to continue where we’d left off earlier in the day made you compliant to whatever I was about to suggest.
“Lay on your back.” I instructed. “Close your eyes.” You followed through with my directions. “Raise your arms above your head… That’s it.” You felt me move away, and heard the rustle of the black plastic bag. “Tell me again. Do you trust me?”
Your mouth was dry and you swallowed apprehensively. “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna be real gentle with you. I promise. But if you wanna stop at any time, I’ll stop.” And I meant it. I had no intentions of taking anything to the extreme, because trust had to be built; you’d been broken mind and body and I liked to remind you what it was to be taken care of. But that didn’t mean there couldn’t be an element of dominance and submission. “Lift your head.”
You bit your lip as you felt the smooth satin of a blindfold being placed over your eyes, and then I encouraged you to lay your head back down. The unmistakable sound of clinking metal came next; the links of a set of black, leather wrist restraints. I traced my fingers slowly up your arms and back down again; my touch making you shiver beneath me. “All you gotta do is relax for me…” You were tense, because you didn’t know what to expect.
I brought the leather cuffs up to your wrists and taking my time – because I wanted to give you the opportunity to stop me if you’d wanted to – I fastened the first strap. Then I pulled the short chain around the back of the bed frame and firmly strapped up your second wrist. You were entirely at my mercy, now, but I intended to keep my promise. The kinda shit I was really into? It was the kind of shit you needed to be introduced to slowly and for now, this would be enough to make you trust me.
I leaned down toward your ear and whispered, softly, “You okay, my Angel?” And you smiled coyly with a nod at my words. “Good girl. Now I told you,” I moved up and hooked my fingers around your skimp, black underwear. “I’m gonna take it slow.” Gradually, I slid them down your legs. “I’m gonna make you feel good, that’s all.” And discarded them to the floor of my apartment.
The next sensation you felt was the trickle of thick liquid spilling languidly over your body as I applied massage oil to your skin. Your chest rose up as I placed my hands on you and you whimpered at the soothing touch of my palms spreading the oil across your body. My touch was initially a teasingly light caress, and I could see the tension and the longing building in you; the way your mouth fell open and your body quivered and your sighs grew heavier.
As my touch became more substantial, I was purposefully avoidant of your most sensitive areas; but my fingers edging ever nearer caused your breath to catch and you strained ineffectually against the leather restraints. I grinned.
My hands spanned back over your breasts and my fingertips brushed your most tender and sensitive areas. You writhed beneath me like you were desperate for more and I couldn’t help but comply; your tits were so fucking perfect to me. I caressed and teased and slid my hands lower over your stomach. Lower; lower still until the very tip of my index finger just grazed your folds. You whimpered again; a sure sign you needed more from me and I readily obliged, stroking even lower with every sweep of my palms across your hot, trembling skin.
I moved your legs further apart, and repositioned myself between them before applying another generous squeeze of oil. Your body arched up from the bed as I continued to rub my hands along your inner thighs; working dangerously closer towards your core. “You want more, Angel?”
You nodded, breath heavy, and managed to utter the word, “please.”
I chuckled and continued to draw circles with my thumbs at the very top of your thighs; slowly, slowly edging toward your sweet spot. “Beg me.”
A short and needy breath escaped you as you licked your lips and conceded. “Please.” I loved that.
“C’mon, again baby.” My fingers dug firmly into your thighs as I extorted your pleas.
“Max, please.” It was enough to hear you moan my name so helplessly; so, I turned my wrist and stroked my index finger firmly over your slick, aching cunt.
As my finger pushed gradually inside you, you let out an unrestrained moan of pleasure. I pushed deeper; moved harder; faster – just long enough to hear your breathing rate accelerate and to frustrate you when I withdrew again.
I applied a little more oil and moved my fingers over you again, spreading you further by sinking a second finger into you this time. I curled inside you; pushed you closer; watched you squirm and moan as I held you on the edge- I was nowhere close ready for you to come.
I withdrew again; my fingers slick with a combination of the oil and your own arousal. Hesitantly, I looked up at you for a moment, before resolving to slide my finger to your ass and gently, cautiously, teasing it into you. You moaned again and I pressed my free hand against your stomach. “Relax, baby… Take a deep breath.” As I spoke I pushed my finger a little further. I was attentive; gentle and gradual, and as I teased and spread you further I brought my mouth down and traced my tongue in firm circles against your clit.
Remarkably, you did you best to relax your body and let me keep going. I could sense your release continuing to approach and reluctantly I moved back again. You groaned; disappointment apparent in your tone and I grinned. “Shh. Stay still for me…” I ran my hands back over your body. “You’ve been so obedient…” I was ready for more, but I needed to know if you were. “Do you want what’s next?”
Without knowing what was next, you agreed. You didn’t care; you just knew everything I did made you feel good and you didn’t want it to stop.
I smiled a little more to myself, and you were met with the sensation of vibrating silicon as I dragged a toy across your body. “You know what it is?”
“... No.”
“It goes in your ass… You want that?” I was courteous enough to ask before inserting the vibrating anal plug inside you; trust, see?
You swallowed hard. “Yes.” Fuck yes. I loved how agreeable you were being.
I inched the toy downward; pressed it between your legs… You shifted with another whimper and I held my open palm against your stomach again. “Hey, shh, or do I need to gag you and tie you down by the ankles, too? I swear, baby, give me a reason.” I growled that last part, and a deep breath followed as I reminded myself to keep things tame, this time at least.
You bit your lip, and seemed to listen. Though your breathing was heavy, your tenseness softened and with a deliberately slow and attentive effort, I gradually inserted the vibrating toy into you.
Sitting up I pulled off my shirt, and unfastened my jeans, watching your open mouth as you arched and squirmed under me. “Feels good, huh?” You closed your mouth and hummed in concurrence. “Don’t close that pretty little mouth of yours.” I gently gripped your chin. “I’m gonna need you to open it again, okay?”
You did exactly what I wanted and it only served to turn me on even more; if that were even possible. I swung my legs off the bed and stepped out of my jeans, regarding you with satisfaction for a moment. Then, balancing on my knees and gripping onto the bedframe with one hand and your face with the other, I slid my erection inside your mouth. And like the obedient little submissive you were turning out to be, you gladly took what I gave you.
I wrapped my fingers around the back of your head and held onto your hair with my fist. I wasn’t rough; I wasn’t forceful. But I was wavering on the edge and it took some effort on my part not to overstep the boundary, and I rolled my hips only slightly, allowing you to set the pace. You swallowed around me; cheeks hollow and tongue gliding over my length like you were a damn pro and I was already so close to letting myself go.
You kept it up and I didn’t give you any warning because I knew you could take it. I reached a point of no return; my body tensed; I pulled back a little and came in your mouth with a breathy moan of satisfaction.
Trying to catch my breath I moved my body over yours, watching you swallow everything I gave you. “You’re so fucking good at that…” And I kissed you hard; my tongue tasting yours; devouring the taste of myself and leaving you gasping when I finally pulled away. Then I pulled off your blindfold – it had served its purpose already; bound and sightless you’d let me take control of your body – and I smiled down at you. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna return the favor.”
It didn’t take long for you to come; with a vibe in your ass and my fingers in your cunt and my mouth on your clit… You came fast and you came hard. It was overwhelming; you couldn’t escape the cuffs which bound your wrists which meant you couldn’t do anything to stop me from pushing you even further. I didn’t stop with your cries of ecstasy; I thrust my fingers relentlessly into you, dragging out your orgasm until you were practically thrashing beneath me. The sounds you made drove me wild and I only stopped when you begged me to.
I didn’t stop for long. No, you were enjoying it too much.
I replaced my fingers with my cock and I drove into you hard and deep, bringing your legs up over my shoulders and toward your chest and bearing down on you, fucking you with all the enthusiasm and intensity I had in me.
“Max, oh my God – Max I, I can’t-” You could barely form a coherent sentence by that point.
“Yes, you can. You don’t have to do anything, baby, just let me-” I wasn’t going to last long; I didn’t need to. We’d both come already and you were so fucking hypersensitive, I knew it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain a second release from you.
I sat up on my knees, and wrapped my hands around your throat as I drove myself mercilessly against you. My eyes locked with yours and asked silently for permission; I wouldn’t have just choked you like that, not if you hadn’t wanted me to. But you did trust me.
I tightened my grip, my fingers gripping you hard enough you started to gasp for what little breath you could attain. I watched you struggle against the bed frame as you pulled on the leather cuffs but you were enjoying every moment, because at no point did you show any signs of reluctance.
You didn’t last much longer after that and as you reached a second shuddering orgasm and your body convulsed beneath my own, I loosened my grasp and pulled myself out and spilled my warm release across your stomach.
You closed your eyes as I collapsed next to you. I was spent; my chest heaved and I was wet with sweat. You weren’t any different and found it hard to stop trembling; even after I graciously removed the toy.
I reached down and held your thigh gently. You were shaking. I grinned to myself. “I told you I’d make you feel good.”
“I can’t… I don’t think I can move.” You rolled your head back to stare up at the leather restraints and then lowered your gaze back to me; suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.
I smirked and rolled onto my side so I could reach the cuffs. “Oh c’mon, don’t get all embarrassed after the fact…” I unfastened the first strap and you pulled your arms down to your chest. They were aching a little; not badly, but enough you’d be reminded of it in the morning. “You liked it, right?” I unfastened the other and threw the cuffs off the bed before climbing over you to grab a towel, returning to wipe your stomach with it. “You like me being in control?”
I dropped back down next to you and pulled you into my hot, damp chest and you nodded, still trying to control your quivering body. “Yeah… Apparently so.” You grinned as you nuzzled your face against me. “More than I expected to.”
“Yeah? Next time I might not be so gentle…” I paused, and held my breath for a second. I wanted to raise a suggestion but I didn’t know how you’d respond. “How would… How would you feel about taking something to, you know, heighten the experience? I mean, baby something that would make you feel so, so good?”
You looked up at me again, losing yourself in my eyes. “Something, like…?”
I chuckled nervously. “I’m talking about Molly. Ecstasy, baby… It’d be safe, just you and me, right here. I think you’d like it.”
You laughed softly, and I didn’t know what response I was expecting, but it could have been worse. “Max-”
“You can say no. I think it’d be a mistake but you can say no.” I knew it’d feel good but I wasn’t about to force any ideas on you.
“Max.” You shifted against me and brushed my chin with your fingers. “I trust you.”
Chapter 14: The Way that she Moves
Chapter Text
“Hey, Angel.” You opened your eyes to find me laying beside you with a soft smile and an adoring gaze on my face.
“You keep calling me that. Angel.” You mumbled, still half-asleep.
“Because you are. An angel. The angel to my devil, baby.” I smirked and moved a little closer so our foreheads almost touched and our eyes were out of focus. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
You shook your head slightly, “I kinda like it,” and I moved in, to place the softest of kisses on your warm lips.
“Happy one week of us, too.” I chuckled.
You thought for a moment, realizing I was right, and it was Sunday again. A whole week had passed since the night we met; and what a week it had been. “Yeah? It’s been kinda crazy.”
“Sex, drugs and rock n’ roll. It’s all I know.” I grinned again, and wrapped my arms around you, gripping your hips. “But I think you can handle me.” With that sentiment, I rolled you on top of me so you were straddling my waist.
My dick was hard, again, “Mm, you want me on top this time?” but I wasn’t necessarily after sex. I wanted to admire you; I couldn’t believe you were mine. You slid your hands over my bare chest and leant forward but I took you firmly by the wrists and stilled your movements.
With a thoughtful gaze, a broad smile and a flirtatious tone I answered, “No.” I moved my hands up your arms, over your shoulders and back down the length of your body to your thighs. “I just want to look at you.”
A smile graced your lips, and tenderly you touched my face; your attention lingered on the stitches in my hairline. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head. “Kinda itches. Stings if I touch it.” I moved my fingers above the cut and ran them through my scruffy dark-blue hair. “How’s it look?”
“Like you lost a fight.” You giggled and I raised an amused eyebrow.
“I didn’t lose anything.” My hands moved up your body again, and I eased you back down against me. “Baby, I got you.” And we kissed, slowly; we kissed as though it meant something.
I shifted; moved more upright and took you with me and you straddled my lap with your legs around my waist, and my arms held you up. I knew you couldn’t resist the feel of me and I couldn’t deny you, either. And you sank down onto me with the softest of sighs and you closed your eyes, resting your forehead against mine.
I felt we were made for each other; the way we fitted together and the way we moved so perfectly in sync. It all came so naturally and it all felt so right.
I never wanted to screw up this thing we had.
I rolled my hips toward you, and we held each other as you fell up and down on top of me. We kissed and we breathed one another’s heavy air and you rode me until you came. It took all of my will not to surrender to my own satisfaction until I knew you were done, and once the moans of contentment had left your lips I pulled back and let myself go; the pearl-white of my hot come spilling between our bodies. Then I guided you into another deep and passionate kiss before finally letting you go.
As our bodies began to still, I kissed you one more time and then fell backwards against the bed. “I could do this every day for the rest of my life.” I reached behind me and felt for my cigarette packet on the small table, and as I lit up, I spoke again through the cigarette resting between my lips. “Couldn’t you?”
You didn’t answer. Instead you kissed my neck and I rolled my head a little to the side, gladly accepting your advances as you moved further down over my chest before reaching my stomach. The smoke leaving my lips was accompanied by an obliging groan. I stared down and watched your tongue glide over me; it was indecent, the way you lapped up the thick pearlescent streaks which trailed my skin, and the way you sucked my still semi-erect cock. I closed my eyes, and tensed a little. You bordered on vulgar and I was intensely aroused by it.
“Fuck, baby… You don’t have to-” Another receptive groan escaped me.
You grinned and moved up and away from me, dropping onto the mattress and swallowing hard. “You like it though?”
I chuckled and rolled onto my side. “Hell yeah, I do.” I took another deep drag of my cigarette and let out a breath toward the ceiling. “We should get out of bed. I’ll take you to that club I know, find out about some bar work.” You nodded in agreement. “And look I’m uh, I’m headed to Jonnie’s later. Eric and Mikey’ll be there. Band practice, y’know? You’re welcome to join us.” I shrugged casually, not wanting to insist on it but hoping you’d say yes.
You hesitated, and frowned gently at me whilst considering my offer. My band mates hadn’t been particularly receptive of you, so far, but in my opinion they needed to get the fuck over any contempt for you because you were my girl. And you weren’t planning on going anywhere.
An hour or so later and I was knocking firmly on the back door of a dingy and tired-looking night club, a twenty-minute walk from the apartment. The rust-metal door resonated beneath the rapping of my knuckles and after a few moments we were greeted by the owner of the club. Justin was a big guy; not in height, but he was heavy-set with a thick neck and bald head. He wore a black button-down shirt and his arms and hands were wrapped entirely with tattoos.
“Hard Spank.” He raised an eyebrow, throwing a bar rag over his shoulder. “Max California, right?” He gripped the doorway as he spoke and his eyes moved up and down your physique. Justin was a decent guy from what I knew but it didn’t mean he could resist eyeballing a girl as attractive as you when presented with the opportunity.
“Yeah, hey man, I heard you were looking for bar staff?”
He nodded. “I thought you had a gig selling dirty magazines and vibrators, dude?”
“It’s an adult bookstore. C’mon…” I shook my head and stared down at the ground awkwardly. “Anyway, it’s not me that’s looking.” I glanced at you.
“Oh yeah?” Justin looked you over again and nodded with a smile. “You got bar experience?”
You nodded confidently and ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah, some. I’m a quick learner.”
Justin chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you are… Look I need someone with real experience. I know a place that’s looking for dancers, though. Got a buddy’s got a real nice place, y’know? Classy shit.”
I immediately grew defensive. “No. No way, she’s not doing that.”
“Max-” You attested. “I think I can make my own mind up as to what I would and wouldn’t do for work.”
“No fucking way, Angel-”
“Angel?” Justin scoffed. “Max your girl’s even got a stripper name.”
I swallowed back the urge to call him a cunt because you needed this job and I didn’t want to piss him off. “Baby listen,” I touched your arm gently. “You don’t wanna do that. I know the kinda guys who hang out in strip joints and they aren’t classy and it’s not safe.”
You rolled your eyes, silently agreeing with me. Offering Justin your most charming smile, you spoke again. “Look, give me a shot at the bar work, okay? One night. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll accept that.”
Justin chewed on his lip for a moment and glanced between us both. “Shit. Okay fine. You can start tomorrow night but it’s a trial run, okay? You fuck up and you’re gone.”
You nodded enthusiastically and held out your hand to shake his. “Thank you. And, for the record, my name’s not Angel.” You huffed and told him your real name.
“Alright, well, be here at seven tomorrow.” Then he nodded at the both of us and closed the door again.
You stared at the closed door. “That was... Something. Are you sure about this guy?”
“Not as sure as I was.” I muttered, kicking at the ground. “But hey, it’s worth a shot.” I took your hand and lead you back to the main street. “He’s right, though.”
“About what?”
“You’d make a hell of a dancer.” I chuckled and shot you a suggestive glance.
“You know I wouldn’t have accepted that offer, right?”
“I know, babe. I’m just kidding. Kinda...” I smirked and but my lip. “Maybe you could save that only for me, huh?”
The morning came and went. We sat in my apartment; you messed around with your guitar while I sat with mine and scribbled down lyrics on a scrappy note pad. When three o’clock rolled around, you agreed to come with me to band practice, and hang out with the guys for the evening.
Jonnie’s place was a two-story which he shared with his brother, Eric, in a less shitty part of L.A. It was a decent set-up, with a garage he’d converted into a make-shift studio where we could practice our music.
When the cab pulled up, we could see Jonnie pacing across the garage studio from the end of the driveway. I threw a few crumpled bills at the driver, climbed out and took your hand as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “Y’know, we don’t usually have an audience when we practice...” I chuckled as the cab drove off and we headed up the drive. Jonnie nodded a hey in our direction. “Sometimes Eric sits in.”
When we reached the house, I felt your fingers involuntarily tighten around mine; a sign you were still relatively nervous around my band mates. “They don’t bring their girlfriends to hang out?”
“Nah. I mean Mikey’s been known to, on occasion... I don’t think he’s seeing anyone at the moment, keeps talking about how he wants to focus on the music and his career; the chef thing? And Jonnie – shit, Jonnie doesn’t see a lot of girls. Pretty sure he’s deep in denial about certain aspects of himself, if you know what I mean.” You glanced up. “Whatever, I don’t judge that shit.”
“Max, hey man. How’s the head?” Jonnie greeted me with a slap on the back.
“Hey. Yeah it’s uh, it’s gonna be fine. Headache’s gone.”
Jonnie nodded, and smiled half-heartedly at you. “You brought your girlfriend again, huh?” He puffed on a cigarette as he spoke.
“Problem?”
“Nope.” The following silence was awkward. I only wanted them to accept you were a part of my life now. Problem was they still saw me as Max California, womanizer and one-night-stand extraordinaire. Fuck ‘em.
I sat down on a worn wooden chair in a corner of the garage – the space was relatively unfurnished save for a few chairs, a coffee table, a couple distressed-looking vintage area rugs, and our equipment. I gestured optimistically for you to sit on my lap – to which you obliged with a shy smirk – and then I pulled my thick black trench coat around us both; although you were dressed modestly in an oversized sweatshirt and baggy jeans, it was approaching December and even with the heater Jonnie had set up, it was cold as shit in the garage.
“So, where’s Mikey?” I questioned, pulling a cigarette packet from the pocket of my trench.
“Ran to the store with Eric for some beers.”
The familiar Dodge Ram pulled up as I lit the cigarette, and Mikey and Eric made their appearance with a case of beer, a bottle of vodka, a couple bags of chips and more cigarettes.
“Hey, California!” Mikey greeted the both of us enthusiastically; he’d definitely warmed to you more than Jonnie had.
“Hey.” I threw Eric a ten-dollar bill as a gesture toward the drinks, and he started handing out beers – we usually split the cost but I was short this time around.
“C’mon Max, that’s it?” Eric rolled his eyes.
“Fuck off man, I’m broke.”
“Yeah, I wonder why.” His tone was sarcastic as he handed you a bottle, but you were quick to respond.
“I’ve got a job, actually, starting tomorrow. Max’ll pay you back.”
Mikey chuckled. “Its fine, really.” He glanced between the both of us then took a seat behind his drum kit. “What’s the job?”
“Bar work.”
“Justin’s place.” I interjected before swallowing a mouthful of beer.
Mikey nodded from behind his drums, and set his bottle down when he spoke. “Justin’s ain’t a bad place, you could definitely do worse. Hope it works out.” Then he picked up his drumsticks and casually began playing a soft, swift beat.
“Thanks.” You smiled.
I kissed you on the cheek, and you slid off my lap again so I could dig in my back pocket for a folded scrap of paper. I passed it to Jonnie. “I came up with a new set, couple older versions of our songs, y’know, like before.” No one brought up his name, but it was clear from the atmosphere Sam’s exclusion was at the forefront of everyone’s minds. “And a couple covers I thought would work. It’s stuff we’ve covered before.”
Jonnie briefly studied the list I’d scrawled as I picked up my bass from against the garage wall.
“Rancid?” Jonnie seemed to play with the idea in his mind.
“It’s a good song.”
“We’ve not played it in years.”
“That’s why we’re fucking practicing, Jonnie.” I spoke with a roll of my eyes; cigarette clenched between my teeth, and I shrugged off my jacket and offered it to you; when I played, I sweated. And you looked as though you could use it.
Jonnie nodded and downed his beer. “Okay.”
“Allegro, guys.” I chuckled, dropped my cigarette in an ashtray on the floor, and threw the Fender over my shoulder. “Let’s play this shit fast and make it ours, right?”
Jonnie grabbed his guitar, I stepped up and plugged my amp cable, and muttered a couple “one, two’s” casually into the mic while Jonnie fine tuned and Mikey got more comfortable. A quick audio check concluded, I grinned devilishly and with a low growl uttered; “Let’s fucking go, Hard Spank.”
And we played. Hard.
“The way that she moves, well I was aroused,
Impowered, impassioned, by every move.
It’s so cold outside, we need a place to hide,
Go into the club to thaw out for the night.”
Jonnie tore up lead guitar. The song was fast paced, and I gave it everything I had. Suddenly any tensions were gone and I gazed at you as I belted out the words to Rancid’s She’s Automatic.
And you knew this one was for you.
“She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way that she moves, the way that she moves.
She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way she m-o-o-oves.”
I glanced at Eric. He leaned back and raised his beer in approval. Eyes back on you and you smiled that shy but devious smile of yours. We both knew what my voice did to you. And yeah, I was a cocky shit about that.
“The situation was tricky, I was feeling so proud,
The bass and the drums, the music so loud,
She asked me if I would stand at her side,
And I knew that I would, ‘til the end of the night.
She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way that she moves, the way that she moves.
She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way she m-o-o-oves yeah.”
The short instrumental interlude gave me enough time to move away from the mic and, with a brazen grin, I planted a swift but firm kiss on your cheek before returning to my position front and center. You blushed. You weren’t nearly drunk enough to throw caution to the wind yet, but for me, playing was a natural high.
“My head was spinnin’, a million miles an hour,
The chance I was takin’, I get anxious around her.
She put her head on my shoulder, I started to hold her,
Swingin’ and swayin’ the morning began.
She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way that she moves, the way that she moves.
She’s automatic, so automatic,
The way she m-o-o-oves yeah.
I say the way she moves, yeah,
I say the way she moves, yeah,
I say the way she moves, yeah,
I say the way she moves-”
The song ended as abruptly as it began. I was sweating. Eric started applauding in a casual manner. Jonnie expelled a yell of approval and Mikey leant back with his beer. Your eyes were locked on mine and you grinned.
I took a few steps away from the others and grabbed the vodka on the table, twisting the cap off and taking a large mouthful straight from the bottle. “See guys, this is why I’m front man.” I laughed and pointed toward the others with a wink, “I make the best decisions. I think we nailed it.” Jonnie shook his head and laughed. I looked back at you. “What do you think, Angel? Are we good or are we good?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes. “You’re good.”
We played more songs; practiced some original stuff I’d been working on, alongside a couple more covers, and a few of our usual numbers. After a couple hours of playing, writing, and re-writing, we all collapsed on the ground to take a breather.
You pressed yourself close to me; partially because you were cold – it was growing dark outside – but partially because you simply wanted the closeness of my body near yours. I wrapped my arms around you, held your back up against my chest as you sat between my legs, and I kissed your neck; slowly and deliberately. You closed your eyes, finally inebriated enough not to give a damn what the others thought.
The vodka was gone. Empty beer bottles littered the garage floor. A few sad-looking chips were left at the bottom of a bag and, between the four of us guys, we could’ve kept the tobacco industry in business single-handedly.
“You really serious about this girl, Max?” Mikey raised the question when you excused yourself to use the bathroom. I laid back on the ground, arms outstretched, and inhaled deeply.
“I don’t know, man.”
Jonnie laughed to himself. “Max is in love.”
“Fuck off.” I spat back.
“You’re either serious, or she’s just a really good fucking lay.” Eric joined in what was fast becoming an interrogation.
“Well,” I grinned and shifted suggestively against the ground. “She is.”
“So, it is just sex?” Mikey insisted.
Jonnie interrupted him, “Nah, c’mon, she’s living with him.”
Eric laughed and kicked out at me in jest. “So, she’s just desperate?”
I rolled my head to the side and scoffed. “She’s not desperate.”
Mikey raised an eyebrow. “Quid pro quo, Max.”
“What?” I didn’t appreciate his implication.
“She’s sleeping with you, and you’re paying for her.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that until then. It wasn’t true. But, he also wasn’t exactly wrong. “Are you calling her a hooker?” There was a short silence followed by a burst of laughter from everyone including myself. I sat up on my elbows; my eyes didn’t want to focus and the garage was starting to spin.
“You didn’t answer the question, Max. Are you serious about her?” Mikey pressed for an answer.
“Nah… C’mon you know me. She’s just, something to do.”
Chapter 15: What we Need
Notes:
[TW: rape/non-con]
Chapter Text
It was scarcely past 9:00pm when we stumbled out of the cab; the night was still young, but I was wasted. We’d drained a lot of bottles and I was fatigued from playing. I fumbled in my pocket for the keys to my apartment, leaning against the doorframe for support. I looked at you, briefly, and I jammed the key into the lock. You were muted, disconcerted and I was too drunk to really understand why.
“Hey, baby, you feeling okay?” I pushed the door open and faltered through it, kicking my boots off and throwing my keys in the vague direction of the bed – and missing.
You nodded somewhat unconvincingly, and mumbled a “mm-hm” as you shut the door behind us and slipped off my borrowed trench coat.
I kept the light off. The corner of my lip upturned and I took your hands in mine, pulling you gently toward me. “Kiss me.” I demanded; and my eyes, though unfocussed and half-lidded, conveyed exactly how much I needed you.
“Max, I-” It didn’t seem like a protest to me. I pulled you closer and tried to press my lips to yours. You turned away.
“C’mon, it’s just us now.” But you pushed me gently back.
Undeterred, I backed you up against the door, pressing myself into you. My hands placed either side of your face I tried to kiss you again.
“Max, stop it.” You turned away a second time.
I expelled a defeated sigh and lowered my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to.”
I chuckled and took a step back, dropping onto the edge of the bed. I lit up a cigarette, and the flicker of the lighter illuminated my face in the darkness for a short moment. “Oh, c’mon now,” I inhaled deeply and the rest of my reply came mumbled. “I’m smart enough to know when a woman says nothing’s wrong, something’s wrong.” I fell backwards into the bed, inviting you to lay with me.
You opted to sit on the edge, staring down at the floor. “I don’t think… I should keep staying here.”
I frowned and bolted upright instantly. “What? What, no baby you can’t-”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful you let me stay.”
With a dejected huff, I threw my cigarette at the ashtray and moved closer behind you. I shook my head and put my arms around you. “Why are you saying this? Don’t say this.” You remained silent. “Talk to me, Angel. We’ve got a good thing going here. I like you, you like me. What the fuck happened?” Tentatively, I brushed my lips over your neck.
“I heard what you said to Mikey.”
I paused, “you gotta be more specific than that, I said a lot of shit to Mikey.”
“I’m just, something to do?”
My eyes snapped open. “Oh, shit. No, Angel look at me, please. That’s not true – I didn’t, I didn’t mean for-”
“You didn’t mean for me to hear it?” You swallowed hard. I gripped your jaw gently and pulled your gaze level with mine. Your eyes glazed over.
I shook my head. “No that’s not… I didn’t mean that.”
You weren’t angry; you were upset. I could see the heartbreak in your eyes and hear it in your voice. “Yeah, you did.”
“I swear, I didn’t. It was just, guy talk, okay? They wouldn’t shut the fuck up, they think I’m, fucking, not capable of taking a relationship seriously. I just I said it to get them off my back, y’know?” I shifted to sit closer to you, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek with the back of my hand. “Please don’t cry. I don’t like seeing you cry.”
“Quid pro quo.” You echoed Mikey’s words and huffed out a disheartened laugh.
“That’s not true.” I shook my head.
You glanced around the apartment. “Isn’t it?”
“I care about you. I want you. I need you.” That was the truth.
You turned you eyes back to mine. “I care about you, too.”
“And you want me?”
You nodded slowly. I was what you wanted, and you did care about me; but I wasn’t what you needed. That’s the part I misunderstood.
I pressed my lips against yours, and I kissed you; hard. I moved myself over you, pushed you down against the mattress and before I knew what I was doing I had your hands pinned above your head and my weight bearing down against you. You thrashed under my firm grasp but I was intoxicated; overpowered by my desire for you and my judgement was clouded by my inebriated state.
“Stop-”
“You said you trusted me, Angel, so trust me.” I growled lowly, moving my mouth to your neck and my hand beneath your waistline, touching you, forcing myself inside you; all whilst fully aware of your continued struggle beneath me. “I know you want the same things I do.” It was selfish and insensitive.
“Stop, please stop…” Your words came weakly and accompanied by sobs.
It hit me like a brick when I realized what I was doing.
I threw myself off the bed and stumbled backwards, gasping. “I – I didn’t mean to-” You’d already been through Hell before me and Hell at my side.
“Max-”
“No, don’t say it. I’m sorry, baby I’m…” Disgusted with myself, is what I was. I dropped down beside you but you backed right up and away from me.
You spoke through tears. “I can’t do this. You’re not what I need, Max. You’ll never be what I need.”
Those words broke me.
You climbed off the bed and I sat, motionless, watching you stuff your belongings into your duffle and head for the door.
“Don’t.” My plea was gentle. But I had no right to try and stop you.
“I have to.” So, I let you go, because I knew you were right.
The door closed. I ran my hands through my scruffy hair and wavered on the edge of the bed; legs shaking, stomach turning, thoughts racing. “Shit…” I seized my keys from the floor, slipped my boots back on and went after you.
“Angel, Angel wait!” You were already halfway down the street when I caught up with you.
“Leave me alone, Max.” You sounded indifferent but I knew you didn’t mean it.
“No, wait up, let’s just talk, please.”
“I can’t-”
“Just talk to me!” My yell wasn’t one of anger, it was of desperation. I couldn’t let you walk out of my life.
You kept walking, and stepped off the sidewalk into the street attempting to hail a cab. I followed you. “Why? Give me one good reason why?” You looked back at me with tears in your hurt-filled eyes.
“Because I,” I hesitated, and then with conviction I said the words. “I love-”
You didn’t see it coming and neither did I. It all happened so quickly; your face, my words – The car as you stepped into its path, causing it to slam on its brakes only a moment too late. A moment was all it took; the car swerved, careened toward you, and you buckled against the front fender, rolling off the hood before hitting the ground with a thud. The sound was gut-wrenching. You stopped moving instantly.
I threw myself toward you as the driver stepped out in a panic and held his head in his hands. I dropped onto my knees beside you; you were motionless. Your eyes were shut and your face was grazed and bloody from scraping against the asphalt. “No… No, no, no.” I shook my head in denial. I was rocking on my knees above your stilled body, scared to touch you; unable to think. “Baby no, don’t do this to me…”
On some level, I was vaguely aware of the people around us yelling and calling 911, calming down the driver, and trying to gain my attention. I couldn’t focus on any of it. I simply held you until the sound of sirens and the flashing of red and white lights approached and the paramedics pulled me away from you.
“Hey, hey! Are you with her? Is she your girlfriend?” I could hear the paramedic’s words but my brain wouldn’t engage. They bundled you into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher and I staggered to my feet, swaying unsteadily as I followed, disoriented. “Hey buddy you’re gonna have to help us out here. What’s her name?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah she’s, my girlfriend. Is she okay?” I climbed up beside you and watched them work. The doors slammed shut and the sirens sounded as the ambulance moved off, leaving a crowd of people, and a pair of LAPD cop cars behind us. I tried my best to listen to what they were telling me and I held your hand on the drive to the hospital. I was still dizzy and felt sick – partly a result of the drinking but party because of what was happening.
We got to the ER and you were rushed away, leaving me standing there helpless and stunned with my head in my hands. Eventually, I took a seat; hunched over in a waiting room of the hospital, shaky and anxious. I watched the minutes on the clock tick by as I waited for the doctor to update me on your condition. I waited. And I waited. Until finally someone came to find me.
“You’re the guy who came in with the uh, the young girl who was hit by the car?” I looked up, and I nodded.
“Is she okay? Is she-” I got to my feet.
He smiled and folded his clipboard. “She’s going to be fine. She’s sleeping, but she’s going to be fine.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Can I see her?”
“You can. But the police are here, they’ll want to ask a few questions.”
I swallowed hard. I wasn’t a fan of cops. Moreover, they weren’t usually a fan of me.
“Is there any family you need to call? Her parents, or-”
“No. No it’s just, me.” I shook my head. “There’s no one else.”
“And you’re-”
“Uh, Max. Max California. I’m, I’m her boyfriend.” I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath; I looked like shit, and I smelled like shit, too, after an evening of drinking and sweating my balls off with the band. My eyes were red, and stung from the tears and smudged eyeliner I still wore, my hair was unkempt and the stench of stale smoke and booze was all over me. The only way the cops could have been any less impressed by my presence was if I’d taken illegal substances. Fortunately, I hadn’t been stupid enough to also ply myself with narcotics, for once.
When I saw you laying there in the hospital bed, my stomach lurched. For the longest time, I couldn’t do anything but stare at you. The doctor did his best to reassure me. “She’s lucky. A few broken ribs and a sore head, but she’s going to be fine, Max. She’s been given some morphine and she’ll probably sleep through the night.” I tried to concentrate on what he was telling me. “A nurse will be in to check every so often, okay?”
I didn’t respond, but as I looked up, two police officers entered the room and the doctor made his exit.
“You’re the boyfriend?” The first officer questioned me instantaneously.
“Yeah, yes.”
“It’s okay, you can take a seat.”
I attempted a half-smile, and nodded, sitting down near the bed with my eyes on you the whole time. One of the officers – the one questioning me – took a seat opposite me and took out a notepad, while the other stood casually behind him.
“Can I ask your name?”
“It’s Max. California.” I looked up at him, and he raised an eyebrow with an informal nod.
“Can you just, talk me through what happened?” He asked and I frowned. I felt like I was being interrogated.
“She just, she didn’t see the car. That’s all. He, I don’t think he meant to-” Looking back at you, I took your hand gently in mine.
“Sure, sure. Had you and your girl been drinking, Max?”
“Uh, yeah. A little. I mean, it’s not a fucking crime, is it?”
“Have you taken any drugs?”
I was offended. His questions were making me irate and I didn’t see what it mattered. “No. Hey, shouldn’t you be questioning the guy who hit her? I haven’t done anything.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve spoken with him. I’ve got a number of bystanders at the scene said you chased her down the street and she was crying, Mr. California. You yelled at her. You guys had an argument?”
“What? No, no we just… I mean yeah we had an argument but, look what happened wasn’t my fault.”
“No one’s saying it is. Just getting the facts, that’s all. She had a full duffel bag of clothes and belongings with her… Can you tell me what the argument was about?”
“Nothing.” My mind flashed back to what I’d done; the way I’d forced myself on you, held you down when you’d begged me to stop. “I just said some stupid stuff.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. California.” I looked back up at the officer. “She has bruises on her wrists which aren’t consistent with the injuries sustained from the car accident.”
My words caught in my throat and I thought I was going to vomit on the spot. I tried to regain my composure. “What are you accusing me of?” I scowled at the officers.
“We aren’t accusing you of anything. Like I said, just gathering the facts.”
“You’re accusing me of hurting her.” I should have kept my mouth shut but I was frustrated and not thinking straight.
“Did you?”
I chuckled and rolled my head back, before looking the officer right in the eyes. “Look, officer,” I lowered my tone slightly. “We have kind of a kinky sex life, right? I mean, I’m into some shit, she’s into some shit… I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He looked at me with distaste. “You don’t have to say anything else, Mr. California. We’ll be happy to hear your girlfriend’s side of the story when she’s awake.”
I exhaled a shaky breath as they stood and left. And I looked down at your wrist and your hand in mine. They were right, and I’d done that; the betrayal on your face and the defeat in your voice played over and over in my head. I was angry at myself, and terrified when you awoke, I’d be the last person you’d want to see.
I didn’t sleep all night. I sat by your bedside thinking of all the ways I could try and make things right but ultimately, I didn’t know if I could. Eventually, early the following morning, you woke.
“Max?” Your voice startled me, and my tired eyes grew wide as I lifted my head.
“I’m here, baby I’m here.” I squeezed your hand lightly and stroked your cheek, gently brushing the hair from your face as you came to. You turned your head toward me and a single tear trickled from the corner of your eye. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
I felt you squeeze my hand in return, and I smiled at you. “It’s okay-”
“It’s not okay.” I interrupted you. “Look I, I’ve sat here all night, all night, going over it in my head. Everything, again and again. What I said, what I did. I know I’m a jackass, and a drunk, and I don’t deserve you but…” I’d practiced the sentence in my head a hundred times while you were sleeping, yet I didn’t know where I was going or what point I was trying to make.
“I meant what I said.” You looked away from me when you spoke. “You’ll never be what I need. I know that. And believe me when I say my head is, just screaming that at me.” And then you looked at me again. “But my heart? Max, I could’ve died. Like, I could have. So, I wake up, and the first thing I want is you. And maybe my life is just, one shitty decision after another,” I exhaled agreeably, because I was definitely one of those shitty decisions, “and I don’t think yours is any better.”
“I definitely make a lot of shitty decisions…”
“But I know you don’t mean to.”
“I don’t. I never meant for any of this to happen.” I leant forward, moving my face closer to yours. “All because I was too proud to accept that maybe I do-” I paused. You looked at me. I took a deep breath and I admitted what I’d been afraid to admit; “I love you.”
It’s not how I’d pictured it; confessing my love to a girl. Telling her in the hospital after she got hit by a car because, ultimately, I’d tried to rape her… But here I was. And there you were.
There was a long silence before you finally responded. “Do you really mean it?”
I smiled, but I could tell you were afraid I didn’t mean it. With a gentle laugh, and astonished at my own admission and the revelation I genuinely was falling in love, I assured you. “Do you know, how many girls I’ve ever said that to? Huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “None. Exactly none. And, I’ve never felt like this.” You were lost in my eyes. “I don’t expect you to say it back. All I want is a chance to prove it. Just one more chance and I swear, I won’t fuck up again.”
You hesitated. “You think we can make this work?”
I sighed. “I never believed in love at first sight. That shit’s for, romantics and hopefuls and… People desperate to find love.” I smirked. “But when I first saw you; sitting there. Just, sitting at the bar after the show… I’ve never been so drawn to someone before. Not like this. I think, I have to make this work. I want to make this work.”
“We’re messed up, aren’t we?” Your smile was disillusioned.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re two pretty fucked up people, huh?” We both laughed, but your laughter was quickly replaced by a whimper of discomfort. “Oh, shit. The doctor said you uh, you got a couple broken ribs, baby. You gotta take it easy… I should, get the nurse.” Hesitantly, I stroked your cheek, careful to avoid your injuries. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look after you.” And I sincerely meant it.
Chapter 16: Vegas
Chapter Text
True to their word, the cops showed up again before we’d left the hospital. But since you made no accusations and there were no charges to press, it turned out to be a complete waste of their time.
We left as soon as they’d let you, and on the way out we happened past the ER doctor who’d only a few nights prior, treated the laceration on my forehead. He recognized us, but didn’t say anything, simply raising an eyebrow as we passed. I was accustomed to judgmental stares so I resolved to ignore him, keeping a protective arm around you as we headed to the exit.
We were back at my apartment before midday. I helped you up the stairs – sure, you could walk, but you had fractured ribs and were in a substantial amount of discomfort – got you inside and set you down on my bed.
“I’m okay, Max. Honestly.” You were insistent.
“You need to rest. I’m gonna make us something to eat.” I had a stern but caring look on my face which conveyed a message of, don’t even think about leaving that bed.
You huffed in amusement at my expression. “Max, you need to rest... Did you even sleep at all last night?” Truth is I’d been running on pure adrenaline since yesterday and was about ready to pass out. And I had a shift at the store starting at 4pm.
“Don’t worry about me.” I smirked, crawling onto the bed next to you. “You leave all the worrying to me.” I held your chin between my finger and thumb. “God, you’re beautiful.”
You hid your face. “My face is messed up...”
“No, no it isn’t. It’s just a few scrapes, baby. You’re still beautiful. Hell have you seen my face lately?” I laughed it off and gestured to my stitches. The black eye had at least cleared up.
“Handsome as ever.” You giggled. I wanted to kiss you, but I wasn’t going to overstep the boundary.
I made us breakfast; a poor attempt at pancakes which had stuck to the pan in places and maybe gotten a little over-done, though you didn’t complain. Then I made sure you were comfortable, I took a shower and collapsed beside you in the small double bed; flat on my back, eyes shut and hand resting on your thigh. And I slept.
You flicked through old magazines and dozed on and off, and when 3:00pm rolled around, I found myself reluctant to wake up. “Max...” Your voice was a whisper and you trailed your fingers up my arm and over my chest, causing me to stir. “You gotta wake up, Max.”
I inhaled slow and deep, moving onto my side to face you. “Mm-mm,” I hummed defiantly, wrapping my hand gently around yours and blinking in the low afternoon sunlight as it streamed through the tall window behind us.
You shifted, carefully, placing a hand on my cheek. “Your boss’ll lose his shit if you’re late again.”
I smirked. “Fuck him.” I groaned defeatedly and rolled back over, pulling myself up to a sitting position and rubbing my eyes. I glanced down at you. “You gonna be okay here by yourself?”
“I’m fine. I promise. And I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, but then your expression became troubled. “Max, the bar-”
“Shit... Let me talk to Justin.” I got up and headed for the phone.
“What if I still go?” You were determined not to lose this opportunity because you needed the work.
I shook my head with a frown. “Baby let me call him and explain what happened, maybe you could start in a few days or-”
“No, I’ll go. I’ll be there at seven, like he said. I’ll just, I’ll take it easy.” You were resolved. And I knew arguing about it wouldn’t change your mind.
I sat back down next to you. “Swear to me, if it’s too much, you just walk the fuck out of there, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
I wasn’t concerned about trying to close up early tonight, and I was in no rush to get back to the apartment because I knew Justin’s place opened until around 2am. I didn’t expect you to be home until after then.
But when I turned the key and pushed open the door, I was met by the sight of you sitting solemnly at the small, kitchen table in near darkness, looking as if you’d been crying. Again.
“Angel? Hey, baby, babe what’s up? What happened?” I pushed the door closed and flicked on the lights, bathing the melancholy apartment in a muted yellow.
“I feel like I’m never gonna catch a break…” You were dispirited, tired and done with everything life was throwing at you. I could hear the exhaustion in your tone.
I kicked my boots off and shrugged off my jacket, dropping down into the chair beside you. “Was it Justin? Are you hurt?”
You shook your head. “No. I mean, yeah… Kind of.”
I put my arm around you and you lent carefully against me. “Tell me.”
You took a slow breath. “It was fine. At first it was fine and Justin was really nice and everything. And the other guys, and he was understanding, actually, about the accident. Said he’d let me take it easy on account.” You twisted your fingers together while you spoke, and I kissed your forehead. “And for the first couple hours, it went great. I poured drinks and cleared tables…” You took a long pause and closed your eyes. “I wasn’t expecting… I mean he had no idea I was there.”
“Who, baby?” I placed my hands over yours, stilling your restlessness.
“Jake.”
Jake. Your abusive cunt of an ex-boyfriend, Jake.
“Did he-” My mind instantly went to the worst places.
“He didn’t do anything, Max. Not really.” You took another breath. “He saw me and he tried to talk to me, but I didn’t want to. I asked one of the other guys behind the bar to serve him but then he saw my face… The grazes? And he kinda lost his shit, demanding to know what happened. I didn’t tell him but he saw-” You stopped and looked down at your wrists and I felt my stomach turn as I was reminded of the marks I’d inflicted. I held you closer and your hands tighter.
“I’m so sorry…” I muttered against your hair, kissing your head again. You’d already accepted my regret at what I’d done but I still felt horrible for it.
“He started yelling about you. Said whoever it was I was seeing, you were no good for me and I should be with him. He tried to reach over the bar and, there was a scene; I mean glasses got broken and then eventually security threw him out.”
“But you’re okay, right?”
“I lost the job.”
“What? It wasn’t your fault he-”
“I know, I know that. And Justin he was… He let me stay, for an hour or so until he knew Jake was gone. But he said I wasn’t a good fit for the job. That I had no business causing a scene like that.” You took a shaky breath and pulled your hand away from mine to wipe your cheek.
“Hey, look at me.” I moved my arm from around you and lifted your face to meet your sorrowful gaze. “It’s okay. Things are gonna get better, I swear.” I moved your hair gently from your face, and I smiled at you; a smile of reassurance, and encouragement; a smile which promised you the world. “Come here.”
Then I stood, and I encouraged you to your feet. Taking both your hands in mine, I led you over to the bed, and slowly, I slid my hands under your shirt and dragged it over your head. I removed my own, and you placed your hands against my smooth chest before I carefully guided you down onto the bed.
I hit the lights and knelt between your thighs as you lay beneath me, and I leant down over you. My lips connecting with the tender, bruised skin of your body, I placed precise and delicate kisses over your ribs, and then I looked to you; my eyes begging silently for permission to continue. You afforded me an encouraging gaze and I moved lower to undress you fully.
But I wasn’t irresponsible. I knew you were hurt. I knew I couldn’t take this too far or too fast. I just wanted to remind you I could be the gentle and considerate lover you sometimes needed.
Looking down at you, I ran my hands delicately along the inside of your thighs, and then I moved myself back over you; keeping my weight entirely on my arms to avoid putting pressure on your wounded body. And I kissed you; I kissed you deeply and you kissed me back; your fingers pulling lightly through my dark, untidy hair.
“Let me make love to you, Angel.” My words were whispered, tender and sensual, and you responded with another desirous kiss. You needed this; distraction, escape, release. I grinned against your mouth, and leant up to reach into the bedside drawer behind us to do the responsible thing, and retrieve a condom.
I pulled up and away, balancing on my knees between your legs whilst I unfastened my pants and then shuffled out of them. “Baby if it’s too much, I promise I’ll stop. At any point, I’ll stop.” I had to reassure you. I had to know you trusted me.
I slipped on the condom and repositioned myself, guiding your legs gently around my hips. And then gradually, I eased myself inside of you, right to the hilt in one smooth stroke. You gasped audibly from the satisfaction of fullness I provided, and I was unable to hold back a low groan as your warmth engulfed me.
With your hands firmly embracing my body I moved carefully above you, balancing on my arms and rolling my hips at an easy, leisurely pace. Your breaths came steady and rhythmic and you gazed up into my eyes as I sank into you again and again.
But you tried to lift your hips in an attempt to move in conjuncture with my rhythm, and you gasped from the discomfort that spread through your side. I moved one hand down to your waist to still your movements, holding you firmly in place. “Shh, baby, just relax…” My breathing was steadily growing heavier with every rock of my hips as I drove casually in and out of you.
“Max-” Your words were scarcely a whisper between us.
I stilled and gazed down into your eyes. “What is it? Is it too much?”
You smiled up at me, and I was lost in you. You shook your head and I resumed burying myself, over and over. And then, through breathy exhalations, you whispered to me;
“I love you.”
I felt the air leave my lungs and I faltered for a moment. “I love you too, baby.” And with another steady forward motion I pushed deep back inside, and leant down to catch your lips with mine, initiating a carnal and needy kiss.
We’d already walked the fine line between love-making and fucking, numerous times. But this? This was different. I meant it when I told you I loved you, and each intended roll of my hips as I drove us closer toward ecstasy, was evidence of that. I needed you, body and soul.
And whether you needed me or not, you wanted me just the same.
Your chest began rising at falling more rapidly and with every soft sigh you felt your orgasm approaching. I could feel it, too, and I focused everything I had on controlling my steady and unwavering pace.
“Just take it easy,” I kissed you again, and you dug your fingers against my skin and it only made it harder for me to hold back my release. I closed my eyes, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last, holding myself above you like this. But you were right on the edge now; you were about to come.
I felt you quiver with each stroke and your breaths became whimpers as I edged you precariously closer. “You feel so good... You’re so close, I can feel it.” Your walls were clenching involuntarily around me and I centered my focus on not coming yet.
You managed to verbalize a weak “mm hmm” and I continued to fall up and down on top of you, unrelenting, slow and steady.
Then your whimpers became moans and your moans became gratified cries of intense pleasure as I awarded you your release. You tensed beneath me and I opened my eyes again to regard the beauty of the moment. You trembled and shook, and I continued to rock into you.
“That’s it, relax, baby... That’s it, fuck-” it hit me sooner than I’d anticipated; I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t hold it back a second longer. My muscles grew taut and I shuddered, erupting with a satiated groan.
Our eyes were fixed on one another when we reached our peaks and I’d never felt more connected to anyone in my life than the way I was to you in that moment. It was as though nothing and no one else existed. It was me and you and so long as we had this, nothing else mattered.
Gradually, I slowed to a halt. “Are you okay?” You were shaking. You couldn’t speak. I lowered my gaze and ran my hand lightly down your side; your skin hot and tingling beneath my fingertips. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You managed to roll your head side to side, and you smiled. “No, I’m okay.”
I let out a heavy sigh, smirked and raised an eyebrow. With a low chuckle I questioned, “Oh, just okay?” You were still trembling from the intensity of it, and when I slid out of you, you tensed involuntarily and let out a quiet whimper; your ribs twinging from the sudden movement. “Shit, sorry.” Cautiously, I lowered my head, and kissed your side apologetically.
You closed your eyes as I moved away, and tried to slow your breathing and calm the trembling aftermath of your climax. Disposing of the condom, I then reached down to retrieve my pants and take out my cigarette packet. I knew it was a bad fucking habit; but I never craved a smoke more, than after I got off.
I lit up, took a long, deep inhale, held it for a moment as I tried to compose myself, and then blew a stream of smoke upwards.
“You ever think about marriage?” My words came unfiltered.
Unsurprisingly, you shot me a look of panicked confusion. “What?”
“No, not us. I didn’t mean-” I almost choked on my cigarette. “I was thinking. When you’re dating someone, and you really like them, it’s ‘cause, you wanna be with them. You know what I mean? You want them. If you’re serious about dating, right?” You frowned and laughed gently as I tried to explain myself. “I could never picture living my life with any of the girls I’ve been with before…” I took another drag and glanced at you, for a moment, before returning my gaze to the ceiling.
“I guess so.”
“But that’s endgame, y’know? You never thought about it? C’mon, you’ve dated. Serious relationships I mean, not like I have.”
You took a while to respond, thinking about your past relationships; they hadn’t turned out great, but they must have meant something in the beginning. “Sure, what girl hasn’t thought about getting married one day? What about you, Max? You thought about that?”
I chuckled. “No. But I always had this idea, right, this concept… I’d run off to Vegas. I’ve got no family and no one to give a shit, not really. I’d have one of those, casino church weddings,” I grinned and looked at you again, shifting against the mattress. I seemed to have your undivided attention. “Get married by one of those Elvis impersonators. It’d be so cliché.” I laughed behind my cigarette. “And I probably wouldn’t have any fucking money for a ring, so we’d get matching tattoos or something.”
You giggled. “Tattoos?”
“Yeah, sure.” With my smoke tucked between my fingers I laid back and raised my arm toward the ceiling, gesturing like I could see the words written out in the air before us. “’Til death, do us part.” I was deadly serious, too. You laughed and buried your face against my shoulder, and I lowered my arm again to stroke the outside of your thigh. “And then we’d spend the honeymoon in some cheap Vegas motel.”
“Mm,” you mumbled against me, “sounds very romantic, Max.” your words were tinged with sarcasm, and your voice grew tired as the heated euphoria of our love-making began to subside.
“Baby we’d screw for days afterward. Nothing else’d matter.” I laughed again and took one last inhalation of smoke before reaching to drop the butt in the ashtray.
“You got it all figured out, huh?” I felt you grin against my shoulder, and I reached down to pull the sheets around us; now fallen from our high, I was beginning to notice the cold in the air and so were you.
“Yeah, yeah I got it all figured out.” I whispered reassuringly, moving closer to you and wrapping myself right around you, holding you to me.
“Hey, Max?” Your eyes were closed and you spoke in a low, quiet voice, beginning to drift into a deep and comfortable sleep.
“Yeah?” I was right on the verge, too.
“I’d go to Vegas with you.”
Chapter 17: Rent
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
We were both woken the following morning by an intrusively loud rapping on the apartment door. I groaned, naked and face down with one arm hanging over the side of the bed. Disoriented, I opened my eyes and glanced at the red glowing digits of the alarm clock; 10:23am.
You groaned and pulled the sheets over your head; the rapping continued.
“Hey, California! Open the door!” The voice was stern, and rough, and one you didn’t recognize.
“Fuck off, Don!” I yelled into the pillow.
“I’m not going anywhere! Open the damn door!”
“Who’s Don?” You mumbled from beneath the sheets.
I groaned again. “Donald. Landlord…” I huffed. “He owns this dump.” The banging on the door intensified as Don slammed his fist against it. “Okay, okay!” I yelled again, lifting my head from the pillow. “Let me get some fucking pants on.” I mumbled in a quieter voice, and then prised myself reluctantly from the bed and scrambled around to find yesterday’s boxer shorts.
With a lazy yawn, I cracked the door, only to be met with the red, scowling face of Don. He was a short, round man, with a balding head and a quick temper.
“You owe me money, California. Seven hundred and eighty dollars to be exact.” He stuck his head into the apartment and I grudgingly stepped back, the door now fully open. Don grimaced at the full sight of me in nothing but my shorts. I ruffled my hair, unbothered by his reaction.
“Yeah, well, I can pay you next week.” I lied.
“Not good enough.” He pointed his index finger at me accusingly. “You said that two weeks ago.” He wasn’t wrong, I owed more than a few weeks rent. You shifted under the bedsheets and Don raised an eyebrow, letting himself in.
“Gimme a break, okay? I’ve had a lot of shit going on.” I walked the short distance across the apartment to pick up a box of cigarettes from the kitchen table, letting one hang from my lips unlit, glancing around for a lighter.
“It stinks in here, California, like stale sex and cheap smokes.” He pulled a face whilst he regarded the unkempt apartment. You frowned, emerging from beneath the sheets to glower at him.
“Jealous?” I smirked, heading back toward the bed for the lighter I’d left on the beside table the previous night.
“Sort it out. I’ll be back in a few days and I want my money.” I rolled my eyes and he shuffled out of the apartment; not without giving you a second glance, first.
“Whatever, Don.” I sighed and flung the door shut whilst Don continued to glare at me from the hallway like an irate beetroot.
You pulled back the sheets, like an invitation for me to join you. Holding my cigarette out to one side, I crawled on top of you with a flirtatious grin.
“I don’t like Don.” You pouted.
I leant down and kissed your lips lightly. “He’s just an angry, lonely little man who needs to get laid.” I kissed you again, but your mind was occupied with the money situation.
“Baby, where are you gonna get seven hundred and eighty dollars from?”
I groaned again and rolled off you and onto my back, gazing up at the ceiling and inhaling deeply. “Well I get paid tomorrow so that makes, three hundred.” I ran my hand over my face.
“We’ll figure it out...” You were trying to be reassuring, but you didn’t have a clue how we’d figure it out.
I spoke my next words with hesitancy. “I know I, I said you taking a job at the store was a bad idea...” I shifted onto my side, propped up on one elbow and I ran my fingers in lazy circles up and down your body. You shivered.
“But?”
“But,” My fingertips traced around the curve of one of your breasts. “There’s still a job going, and I guess it, seems kinda dumb not to take it.” I lowered my mouth to kiss your chest.
“You said it wasn’t safe.” Your words came softly, distracted by my advances.
“Not all the customers are reprobates and perverts.” I mumbled, my hand now firmly cupping your breast. “We get women in there, too.” You only managed a soft whimper in response to my words. “And half the male clientele?” My mouth now enveloped you breast and I sucked at your hardened nipple for a moment before releasing you to continue talking. “They wouldn’t know how to speak to a woman if they were presented one gift wrapped with a handbook.” I chuckled lowly and returned my mouth to your hot, wet skin.
“what about... The rest of them...?” Your words were shaky.
“I’d be there.” I affirmed, still massaging one breast with my tongue between words, and kneading your other in my palm.
“Like a knight in shining armor, huh?” You smirked, and I released your tender breast from my mouth and laid my head gently on your chest. I could feel the rapid beating of your heart.
“Can’t be worse than any other job you’ve worked.” My thumb continued to roll passively over your nipple while I spoke.
“Okay.” You curled fingers through my hair as I lay on you.
“Yeah?” I smiled. Truth was, as much as I hated the idea of you being ogled by perverts all day, I’d always be around. I was growing more protective of you with each passing day and, truthfully, filling the vacancy at the adult bookstore made more and more sense the more I thought about it.
“Yes. Now, get off me, Max, I need to pee.”
Stan’s of Hollywood. The now familiar sex shop wasn’t exactly the kind of place you’d imagined yourself ending up when you moved here. You walked under the crimson banner and stepped through the cement archway which led into the store, navigating your way through the aisles of adult toys and explicit magazines. A job was a job, but as you regarded your potential place of employment, you made a point of telling me, “I’m still looking out for something else.”
I chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Baby, we need to get you registered with more acting agencies, y’know? I still think you’re gonna make it big in Hollywood.”
“Not with my face like this...” You sighed despondently. But the grazes were healing.
I put my arm around you comfortingly, and led you to the back of the store to beg the boss to give you a shot at working here.
“So, uh, you got any real experience?” My boss was a heavy-set man in his late 50’s, with scruffy greying hair and a thick, black moustache. He eyed you up and down from behind his large, thin-framed glasses. He was semi-keen on my idea and he liked you. He just didn’t know if you could actually do the job.
“Retail? Yeah. Plenty of experience, Mr. Jackson.” You were doing your best to simultaneously look both professional, and seductively charming. It was a cheap shot and made you feel uncomfortable, because it meant the boss was staring at your cleavage throughout the entirety of what might be incredibly loosely considered an interview process.
He leant forward on his desk whilst you sat apprehensively on a chair opposite him. Jackson’s office was small and reeked of stale cigarettes and sweat. It was unpleasant. But Mr. Jackson himself wasn’t a bad guy, not really. He paid us off the books and was lenient when I showed up late. And he seemed keen to take you on.
“Oh, sweetheart I meant, experience with the merchandise. You gotta know the products...” He leant further forward and thumbed a stack of papers on his desk with a predatory grin.
I stood lingering in the doorway whilst he conducted his interview. I didn’t like the way he looked at you, but I bit my tongue because you’d been provocative on purpose. That, and I’d have to get used to you being leered at.
“Oh, uh, yeah... Yeah.” You nodded unconvincingly.
“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t. You know, I could always uh... Give you a demonstration of the kind of, products, we sell. Consider it on the job training...”
What a disgusting thought. I couldn’t help interrupting. “Sir she’s more than capable of-”
“Max, keep your mouth shut. If I need a need a reference I’ll ask.” His tone wasn’t especially threatening, but I didn’t want to piss him off and jeopardize your chances. So, I did what I was told, but I certainly wasn’t going to leave the room.
“Sir.” I nodded and rolled my eyes.
The boss turned his gaze back to you, and huffed humorlessly, pointing at you. “You’d better be more reliable than your delinquent, smart-ass boyfriend.”
Smart-ass? Maybe. But I took offence at delinquent.
You looked back at me before reassuring him. “I’m reliable. And I can sell whatever you need me to.”
Mr. Jackson nodded and stroked his moustache. “Alright. But you screw up, and you’re out.” His next comment was directed at me more than it was you. “And you two’d better keep it fucking professional.”
I stared back at him. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that, Sir. Strictly business.”
He grinned sarcastically. I knew he was only jealous I was fucking you. “And, sweetheart, be sure to smile at the customers.” His continued failure to look at your face rather than your tits was nauseating. But you smiled and thanked him anyway, and we headed out of his office.
I spent most of the day showing the ropes; running through deliveries and re-stocking, how to work the cash register, the video rental procedures... Impressively, we almost worked through six whole hours before you found yourself pinned to the wall of the stockroom with my body pushed up against yours.
“Max-” You gasped my name when I sank my hand down the front of your pants, and my fingers teased between your lips. “Max, what about, Mr. Jackson?” You contested, worried about getting caught.
“Don’t worry about him,” My mouth pressed kisses along your collarbone and my other hand roamed underneath your shirt and pressed lightly against your stomach. “He’s gone home for the night.”
“I just don’t think we should-” Your words were cut short as I thrust a finger inside you and left you breathless.
“C’mon...” I kissed you again, and then reluctantly pulled back. “Really?”
“Really.” You were resolute. And I respected it. I admitted defeat and slid my hand back out of your pants. “I just think we should at least try and be professional. Anyway, what if there’s customers?”
I rolled my head back and sighed. You were right, of course. But watching you stock the shelves with sex toys all evening, pausing to examine items you were unfamiliar with, had me feeling all kinds of turned on.
“Okay, but just so you know,” I let my hand rest on your chest, and I inched my fingers closer to your throat. “When we get home, I-”
We were interrupted by the sound of the bell chiming above the entrance door. Frustrated, I left my sentence unfinished and headed back out to the shop floor where a 30-something guy with a penchant for gay porn stood browsing the literary section. He was still browsing the same magazine some five minutes later when you emerged from the stockroom with a cardboard box filled with vibrating dildos.
“Max, where do I put these?”
I smirked and gestured to a display case near the counter, resisting the urge to make a far lewder suggestion. You dumped them on the edge of the counter and I eyed the guy still flicking through the gay porn. “Hey, man, this isn’t a library. You gonna make a purchase or what?” He looked embarrassed and quickly closed it up, heading for the counter with his head down. “Anything else I can help you with?” I bagged up the magazine and he shook his head. “Four dollars and eighty cents...”
Once he was gone I turned back to you. “See, most of the people we get in here? Your average sleaze who thinks they gotta be ashamed of their sexual inclinations... And guys looking for better ways to please their girlfriends because they either deem themselves inadequate, or they’re kinky as fuck.”
“Yeah?” You giggled and leaned down on the counter. “And what about you?”
“Me? I’m the latter. And for the record, I’m not ashamed of my perverse fantasies. We’ve all got our kinks.” I moved my face closer to yours. “You… I’m still trying to figure you out.”
It was true. I knew you enjoyed sex. You liked to be dominated and you loved how I made you feel every time we screwed. And you weren’t ashamed. But I still wanted to know how far I could push you. The sadist in me wanted to bring out the masochist in you but the lover in me? The lover in me only wanted to give you the tenderness and intimacy you deserved.
Your grin was provocative. “Good luck with that.” And you set about re-stocking the cabinet.
Another week passed and we entered into December. You turned out – to the boss’ delight – to be pretty damn good at the job. You smiled – albeit begrudgingly – at the customers, but kept your distance as much as possible from Mr. Jackson. We worked late, screwed into the night and passed out in the early hours. We lived on shared takeout from questionable food trucks and cheap restaurants. Your injuries improved day by day and after a week, the scrapes on your face were almost healed. Mikey called a couple times to check up, and I had a call from a local club asking us to play a show in a few days’ time.
Life was good.
“Fuck, fuck baby I’m gonna come.” I focused everything I had on not coming yet, but it wasn’t much use. You were riding me like a fucking pro and the sensation of your tight cunt squeezing my dick as you fell up and down on top of me was too much to take. I closed my eyes and rolled my head back against the pillow; mouth open and exhaling a throaty whimper. Unintentionally, I lost control, reaching my climax before you could. Then, sensitivity too much to take, I grasped you by the hips and flipped you onto your back, and I went down on you, my fingers and mouth finishing the job.
You came with a grateful cry and I collapsed, sweating, beside you.
Thud, thud, thud; knuckles against the door. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Don’s indignant little red face made another appearance. You slipped out of bed, deciding to hide in the bathroom and leaving me to face him alone. I climbed up, wrapped a sheet around my midriff and casually opened the door; still hard, sweating and breathless.
Don uttered an uncomfortable ugh and, trying to avoid an eyeful of my junk, asked “do you ever put clothes on, California?” he furrowed his brow disapprovingly.
“Not if I can help it.” I smirked.
“You owe-”
“I owe you rent, yeah, I know.” I slammed the door in his face and searched the apartment for my pants, which I’d discarded someplace last night in careless haste to fuck you. Finding them (tossed aside, atop a stack of Hard Spank fliers I’d been meaning to distribute), I pulled the black PVC leather on and fastened the zip before digging out my wallet.
When I opened the door again, Don looked redder than usual. “I’m not putting up with any more excuses, Max. Pay me what you owe or you’re gonna find yourself with an eviction notice.” I nodded and pulled out a wad of cash. Don sighed and took the money, counting up every bill. ““Three hundred and fifty. You’re four hundred and thirty dollars short.”
“I know, that’s the best I can do right now but I swear, I’m gonna get you the cash. Just, give me another week.” I didn’t like to beg but I couldn’t afford to lose this apartment, either. “Please?”
Don rubbed his temple and considered. “Full amount, this time next week. And you owe another week on top of that.”
“Thanks, I mean it, thanks.” I quickly closed the door back up and dropped onto the bed. I had no fucking idea where we were going to get that much money from and still have enough left over to feed ourselves.
We got to work a little after midday. For the first few hours, it was business as usual; you re-stocked and re-shelved returned videos, and I mostly dealt with the customers. I was on my way back in from my third smoke break of the afternoon, when I saw him talking to you…
“I mean it, baby, you got a face for the movies.” He was middle-aged, overweight, had greasy balding hair and a goatee.
I interrupted immediately. “Hey, can I help you with something?”
He looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, maybe. You work here too?” I nodded. “Your colleague here is interested in the movies.” He turned his attention back to you. “Right, baby?”
“Don’t call her that.” I felt instinctively protective of you. I didn’t like this guy. I didn’t trust him, because I’d met men like him before.
“She’s not just a colleague, huh?” He chuckled and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you. “Eddie Poole. I run a talent agency, strictly classy shit.”
You studied the business card; EDDIE POOLE – CELEBIRTY FILMS. “I, I don’t know.”
I took the card from you and turned it over in my hands. “Skin flicks.”
“No, no.” Eddie shrugged. “Like I said, classy shit. We make movies and, baby I’d love to put you in a film.”
“Yeah, buddy, she isn’t interested.” This guy had sleaze written all over him and you were drawing the same conclusion.
“A thousand dollars.”
Your eyes grew wide and you stared at me. “A thousand?” You repeated.
Eddie paused and then nodded in my direction. “Fifteen hundred if your boyfriend says yes, too.”
I shook my head. “Fucking flattered, man we aren’t doing no cheap porno.” I shoved the business card back toward him but he didn’t take it.
“Buddy of mine is coming into town next week, I know he’d fucking love you.” He glanced up at the video section of the store and then eyed me curiously. “I didn’t catch your name.”
I bit my tongue before replying. “Max.”
“How long have you worked here, Max?”
“Couple years.”
“Long enough I’d bet money you know the name Dino Velvet?”
“Long enough to know I want nothing to do with that name, man. Producer slash director slash weirdo…” I knew exactly who Dino Velvet was. “Man, fuck that.” I tried again to hand him back the card and you stepped closer to me.
“Nah, keep the card. Change your mind? Numbers on the back.” He smiled at you with a wink. “I mean it, baby, you’re exactly the type of girl Dino pays good money for. You too, Max.” And with those words, he left the store.
I huffed out a laugh and walked back to the counter to throw the business card in the trash. “No fucking way.”
You approached cautiously. “Max-”
“Do you have any idea who Dino Velvet is?”
You shrugged. “He shoots porn?”
“No baby, not just regular porn. Not like the shit we sell. He shoots the kinda stuff that’s as close to illegal as it gets without actually being illegal. And, there’s not much out there that’s illegal. I’m talking, hardcore, fetish, bondage. But real sick shit, y’know what I’m saying? Some people get off on that.”
“You don’t?”
“There’s a line. He crosses it. Trust me when I say you don’t wanna get involved in the L.A. underground porn scene. You definitely don’t wanna be involved with Velvet.”
Notes:
Next chapter will consist of some NSFW fanart of Max. Skip to chapter 19 to avoid if that's not your thing, thanks! Also, quick note to say I appreciate all the hits and kudos, thank you readers :)
Chapter 18: Max Fan Art (IMG only)
Notes:
NSFW Max fan art. Enjoy because it took me fucking FOREVER to draw. <3
Chapter Text
Chapter 19: Pastel-Pink Pills
Chapter Text
Tonight’s crowd was bigger than usual; Hard Spank was the opening act for a couple of bigger bands, and it meant we got to go on early, hype up the audience and then spend the rest of the night enjoying a free show.
You took a seat on the edge of an old crate, side stage, and sipped a beer while we waited to go on. We’d been drinking for hours before the show, because wasted was the only way you could face my band mates, and because I was nervous; most of our set were cover songs, owing to the fact playing the songs we wrote with Sam wasn’t easy without a fourth band member. I knew we were good, but we really needed to find a replacement.
The lights were dim and the atmosphere was lively; heavy music thudding throughout the club and the air thick with the familiar aroma of smoke and spilled beer. I drummed my fingers anxiously against the body of my bass, and you reached out to touch my hand, bringing me back to reality. You smiled. I was so fucking smitten with that smile.
“I got this, babe.” I smiled back, lifting your hand to my lips and kissing it gently before heading out to start the set. The music pumping from the club’s speakers died down, and Mikey counted us in before going hell for leather on the drums. Jonnie strummed fiercely on lead guitar, and I struck a rhythm on bass. We gave it everything we had, again.
I was a different person in the spot light and when all eyes were on me. Not that I wasn’t confident in myself usually, but I put on this, persona; the intimidating, aggressive, ruthlessly out of control lead singer of Hard Spank. I went fucking hard; yelled until my voice was hoarse and I was drenched in sweat. I heard my name leave the lips of more than a few girls front of stage, and I shot them a playful smile and suggestive wink. I was a flirt, and an arrogant one at that; I enjoyed being on stage so much it was almost indecent and I craved the attention like it was a drug. And I always gave it my all, hoping one day, some record producer might be out there somewhere.
The crowd were responsive and gave an encouraging ovation once we stopped playing. I spat at the ground and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, sweeping my damp hair back so it stuck up chaotically. Looking out across the throng of people amassed over the club floor, I noticed a couple of girls near the edge of the stage trying to get my attention. I immediately lit a cigarette, grinning and raising an eyebrow in their direction. The self-restraint not to go over and talk to them was foreign to me, and if I’d never fallen for you, I’d have been sweet talking the pair of them back to my place for a night of shameless debauchery; drinks and blow to accompany an uninhibited threesome.
I shook my head; the thought alone was making me hard; after all, I was only human. I headed off stage and lifted my guitar over my head, handing it to Eric – who had been watching beside you the entire time.
“Max, that was amazing. You could’ve fucking headlined tonight.” If there was anything better than praise from a crowd, it was praise from my girlfriend. I gripped you by the waist and pulled you toward me, exhaling smoke sideways before resting my forehead against yours.
“Yeah?” My smile was confident and I ran my tongue over my teeth, my gaze travelling between our bodies; over your chest, lingering on your full breasts and coming to rest where our hips met. You could feel my dick growing harder in the confines of PVC leather, and I had to resist the urge to slip my hand up the inside of your skirt. “I need some air.”
The club was suffocating, so I took your hand and pulled you with me out of the stage door into the cool night. Beneath the intermittent golden light of a flickering streetlamp, I leant back against the cool alley wall, and you pressed yourself into me; your hands firmly planted against the breast of my sweat-dampened shirt. Cigarette between my fingers, I ran my thumb over your parted lips and you turned your head to take a drag.
“Bad habit.” I grinned as the smoke departed your mouth and invaded mine. The urge to kiss you became too much, and I tangled my free hand through your hair, pulling you into a deep and passionate kiss. Your mouth moved to the corner of my lips and over my jaw, slowly working your way down my neck to my shoulder. Eyes shut, I swallowed hard and my throat bobbed beneath your kisses. I took a long inhalation from my cigarette, and you licked a stripe from my collar bone over my throat; sampling the taste of my salty sweat before sinking your tongue back into my mouth.
The bitter taste of sweat mixed with tobacco and the lingering aroma of beer; it was vulgar. Neither of us could get enough.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Max…” Jonnie’s laughter came as an unwelcome interruption.
I groaned and rolled my head back against the wall as you moved your mouth away from mine. “Fuck off Jonnie.” My words were only part in jest.
“Do you two ever stop?” He lit up as you got off me.
“Why, you jealous?” I smirked.
“Of you?” He chuckled and shook his head, blowing smoke toward the streetlamp.
I shrugged. “Maybe you’re jealous of her?” I provoked.
“Don’t fucking flatter yourself.”
You rolled your eyes and made for the door. “I’m gonna grab another beer, baby you want one?”
I nodded. “Thanks, babe.”
Jonnie chuckled to himself. “Ooh, thanks babe. You’re sickening, Max. She’s got you wrapped, man.” He held out his little finger and raised an eyebrow. “Like this, man you’re infatuated.”
“I’m a fucking addict…” I shook my head in disbelief because we both knew he was right. I was wrapped around you finger but, in fairness, it was a mutual addiction.
“You do love her, don’t you?” Jonnie’s tone lowered significantly and he looked right at me. He wasn’t taking the piss anymore.
I nodded. “Yeah, yes. Yes, I do.” I took a final drag on my cigarette and threw it on the ground, crushing it beneath my boot. “Just kinda happened.”
Jonnie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, nah I’m happy for you. I mean it.” I looked up and Jonnie took my hand, slapping me firmly on the back in a half-hug.
You came back with the beers and handed me one just as Mikey made an appearance in the doorway.
“Hey Jonnie, Eric’s heading out, says you’ll have to get a cab home.”
Jonnie raised an eyebrow. “He okay?”
“Last I saw he was chatting up some girl at the bar.” Mikey chuckled.
“Hey, guys?” I dug in my pocket and pulled out a small, clear bag. A bag containing pastel-pink pills.
Jonnie scoffed approvingly and threw his head back. “Yes, Max, fucking yes.”
Mikey shook his head. “Shit. I’m in.”
I looked at you and waited for your reaction. “It’s Ecstasy.” Cautiously, and probably because you were already drunk, you agreed. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna look after you.” And I opened the bag, tipping four of the pills into my hand. The guys took one each, and I swallowed mine down with a mouthful of beer before passing the bottle to Jonnie, who in turn passed it to Mikey before handing it back. Then you swallowed yours, making a face when it went down because Molly tasted like absolute shit. I should’ve warned you.
“Come here…” With a devious grin I pulled your body into mine again and wrapped my arms around you, instigating another intense kiss.
I was so engrossed in the feel of you I hardly noticed when Jonnie and Mikey disappeared inside with a groan and a “see you in there”. We made out continuously for near twenty minutes in that alleyway; hot and breathless and our bodies grinding against one another. Eventually, you started to feel the E kick in. You pulled back, and I could see it in your expression.
“Feels fucking good, huh?” I ran my fingers through your hair.
You welcomed the pleasant warmth spreading throughout you. You didn’t need to answer for me to know you were feeling euphoric right now, because I felt the same.
The thumping of the current bands’ bass grew louder the further we headed inside, and I took your hand, leading you toward the club floor intent on dancing with you. But before we could get there, I was approached by the two girls from earlier on.
“Hey, hey! Max! Max California!” One of the girls, an attractive brunette grabbed me by the arm as she called my name. I was all for attention, but I was vexed; it was obvious I was with you.
“Oh, hey, yeah.” My voice was raised over the sound of the music. “Sorry I, I’m kinda-”
“Max you were amazing tonight! I’ve seen you play before, y’know?” The brunette’s friend – a petit redhead with a killer body – didn’t say a lot, but it was clear as fucking day they were both beyond wasted; worse than we were.
“Uh, yeah thanks.” I could feel you tugging my arm, trying to pull me away from them.
“Can we buy you a drink?” She looked hopeful.
I shook my head with a laugh. “Nah, I’m sorry, girls, I’m with-” I couldn’t get the rest of my sentence out before the redhead took me by the face and planted a firm kiss on my lips. I pulled away instantly. “Hey what the fuck?” I ran my fingers over my lips and jerked my head back. You let go of my hand. I turned to look at you. “Baby, I didn’t-” I turned back to the redhead, who had an indignant look on her face at my rejection.
“Who the fuck is she?” The redhead demanded, gesturing toward you.
“I’m his girlfriend, who the fuck are you?” You stepped between us and she looked you up and down with distaste, before looking over your shoulder and back at me.
“C’mon, Max, we can show you a good time.” She sounded desperate, and I was flattered, and had I run into them a few weeks ago I wouldn’t have been able to say no. But I had better morals than that.
I opened my mouth to reply then shook my head with a grin, grasping your hand again and pulling you away before a fight broke out. “I don’t think so.”
We left the girls standing there rejected and disappointed, and I dragged your body up against mine, grinding myself against your ass as we began dancing. Laying your head back against my shoulder, you grinned at me, voice still raised over the thumping of the music. “You get that a lot, huh?”
I laughed lowly into your ear. “More than you know… Were you gonna hit her?”
“Do you think I would?” You turned to face me, swaying your hips in time with the music.
My expression was hesitant. “I don’t know.” Maybe you would have, I honestly wasn’t certain.
“Kiss me, Max.” So, I did.
We danced and made out and drank until we were close to exhaustion, and then collapsed in a couple bar stools to order more drinks; moving from beers to spirits. That’s when Jonnie made another appearance.
“Hey, we’re thinking about heading out, there’s a strip club not far from here.” He yelled over the music.
I looked between you and Jonnie. “I mean, it’s getting kinda, stale, in here.” I gestured across the bar to where the two girls from earlier were still hanging around trying to catch a glimpse of me. It was getting tiresome.
We left the club with my arm around you, and headed with Jonnie and Mikey to a strip joint two blocks away. As far as I was concerned, the night was still young, and we had at least another three or four hours before the Ecstasy wore off.
The front of the establishment was painted black, with blacked-out, boarded windows and neon-yellow lettering which read EXOTIC DANCERS – XXX, beneath which sat the neon-pink outline of a naked woman with her legs spread. I couldn’t help eyeing the scantily-dressed sex-workers roaming up and down the sidewalk, calling on every car passing by; some of the cars with desperate and tense-looking men behind the wheels – no doubt worried they’d get caught – stopping to pick themselves up a hooker. I smirked and I puffed on my cigarette; Los Angeles was something else. And I might be a sexual fucking deviant but I drew the line at paying for sex from some cheap, sidewalk skank.
I grasped the scuffed-brass pull handle of the door, holding it open for you, and we headed inside; the whole place was dimly lit by orange spot-lighting and the air was hazy. In the center of the club was a large platform, surrounded by brass railings and dotted with metal poles, most of which were occupied by gyrating, near-naked woman – in nothing but G-strings and strappy high-heels – being ogled by perverts.
I guess that made me a pervert, too; because I was instantly turned on.
We headed for the bar. Jonnie and Mikey ordered themselves a couple more beers and headed off to find themselves a table with a good view of the exotic dancers. You leaned against the bar while we waited for the bar-tender to bring us a couple shots, and I pressed myself up behind you, reaching down to discreetly slide my hand up the inside of your thighs. I felt you tense and heard you moan softly.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that.” I growled, slamming a twenty-dollar bill on the bar to pay for the drinks. But you playfully shoved me away with an elbow to the chest, and put two kamikaze shots in my hands, and we headed for a secluded booth in a dark corner of the joint.
We took a seat and you shrugged off your jacket, and it took literal seconds between downing our first shots and our mouths finding one another’s again. I shifted comfortably in my seat, and encouraged you onto me, spreading my legs a little as you hitched your mini-skirt and spread yours either side of my lap. I gripped your ass, firmly, and you rolled your hips into me, with your fingers digging softly into my shoulder as you tried to create a friction between us.
I wanted so badly to make love to you right there and then.
With one hand still firmly planted on your ass, I moved my other to your thigh, and teasingly slipped up, higher and higher toward the edge of your underwear, swallowing in response to you whimpering against my mouth. “Max…”
“Shh, no one’s gonna see. No one cares. I wanna make you feel good.” I spread my legs a little more to create more room, and then I hooked my fingers around the crotch of your underwear, pushing them to one side. The way you moaned when I sank a digit inside you made me weak, and I looked right into your eyes as I began to thrust in and out, purposefully slowly. “Your panties are so wet, Angel.” You shuddered at my words, and I pushed a second digit inside you.
“That’s all you, you realize?” Your breaths grew heavier and you lost yourself in my viridescent gaze. I continued fucking you with my fingers; my thumb now drawing slow circles over your sweet spot.
“Fuck, I love you.” The thing about Molly, was it made everything about love; I didn’t want to fuck you, I wanted to make love to you. It wasn’t about sex, or coming, it was about love. It was about you and me and how fucking good we were together.
Your reciprocated sentiments became lost when our lips connected again and I brought you to a steady and heightened orgasm. I had to kiss you to stop you from moaning as you came, and I held you down firmly in my lap, preventing you from pulling away from my fingers.
“I need to get you out of these clothes…” I muttered, moving my hand from your ass and up the inside of your shirt, my fingers still seated firmly inside you.
You only grinned, enticingly, and reached back to retrieve and down your second shot, and then you picked up mine. “Open up.” I bit my tongue as you lifted it to my lips, and I opened my mouth compliantly to swallow it down.
“I wouldn’t drink too much more.” I kissed you lightly. “Too much alcohol doesn’t mix well…” I promised I’d look after you, and I meant it.
“Take me home, Max.” You rolled your hips again and I groaned softly.
“Yeah?”
With your lips pressed to my ear you whispered, “I wanna get naked. Like, right now.”
I chuckled and flashed you an agreeable grin. I wanted the same thing.
No sooner than we’d crossed the threshold into my apartment, my hands were all over you, and yours on me. But nothing was rushed; our kisses passionate and fierce, yet affectionate and meaningful.
“I wanna keep drinking,” You admitted, colliding with the bed and crashing onto it with me on top of you.
“No.” I smiled apologetically and traced my fingers over your throat. We’d already exceeded the limit on what was sensible; I knew from experience excessive drinking mixed with narcotics was a bad idea. “But we don’t have to stop the party.” And with an animated grin I pushed up from the bed and headed for the expansive stack of CD’s I kept scattered on the coffee table. I knew you loved Nirvana and In Utero featured some of the fucking best. The album started playing and I tore my shirt up over my head, throwing it onto the floor before lighting another cigarette, all while moving my body in time with the music.
Teenage angst has paid off well,
Now I’m bored and old,
Self-appointed judges judge,
More than they have sold.
You watched me move, captivated by the way I swayed side to side. You pulled your legs up onto the bed as I kicked my boots off and I stumbled, almost losing my balance trying to pull my socks off, too. Then I approached you and removed yours for you, before crawling up between your legs and positioning myself over you again.
“Wanna smoke?” I offered the cigarette to you; I knew you didn’t usually smoke, but you seemed to get a kick out of it when you were drinking and strung-out. I placed it between your lips and you took a pull. It was a small gesture, but the intimacy of the moment was arousing, and I kissed you before you could fully exhale.
“You’re sexy when you dance, Max.” You giggled, trailing your hands through my hair while I took another drag.
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
“Dance with me?” You were a sucker for my puppy-dog stare and pleading pout, and it took very little convincing for you to get up and dance with me. Heart-Shaped Box began to play; I took you with me and we moved, slowly, my hands on your waist while my cigarette burned down between my lips.
She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak,
I’ve been locked inside you heart-shape box for weeks,
I’ve been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap,
I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black.
“Hey! Wait! I got a new complaint-” We belted the lyrics in unison. “Forever in debt to your priceless advice.”
Hey! Wait! I got a new complaint,
Forever in debt to your priceless advice.
Hey! Wait! I got a new complaint,
Forever in debt to your priceless advice,
Your advice.
When the second verse kicked in, I let go of you and dropped onto the bed, my back pressed up against the wall. “I wanna watch you take you clothes off.” I threw my half burnt-out cigarette into the ashtray and placed my hands behind the back of my head, watching you. You smiled shyly, but continued to sway your hips as the song kept playing.
Slowly, sensually, you curled your fingers around the bottom of your tank-top and inch-by-inch revealed your body as you slipped it over your head. I shifted slightly, fixated on you. You loosened the zipper on the side of your skirt, and trailed it provocatively down your legs until you were left in only your lace panties and bra. I raised my eyebrows, with an encouraging look which begged you to keep going. With a teasing smirk, you did just that; unclasping your bra – letting it fall to the floor with the rest of our clothes – then hooking your fingers around the top of your underwear and they, too, hit the floor.
I only managed to pull my eyes away from you when the next song began playing on the stereo and my stomach turned. Well done, Max, great fucking choice of album.
Rape me.
Rape me.
Rape me, my friend.
Rape me.
Rape me, again.
You must have sensed my discomfort because you swiftly made to straddle my lap and placed your hands either side of my face, bringing my attention back to you. “It’s okay, Max.”
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
Am I the only one?
I held you to me, wrapped my arms around your back and you kissed me; and it was intense.
Hate me.
Do it and do it again.
Waste me.
Rape me, my friend.
I kissed you back vehemently and pushed you down onto your back, before kneeling between your legs and unfastening my pants, twisting my hips in an attempt to scramble out of the tight leather. Eventually, I fell back onto top of you, and you arched your body against mine like an invitation for me to take you; we’d danced around one another for long enough and I was beyond desperate by now. My cock was aching to be buried deep inside you and I wasn’t prepared to wait any longer.
You melted into me with a gratifying moan as I penetrated your slick heat, sliding all the way into you before withdrawing and repeating the motion; my own guttural groans filling your ears at the contentment of our union. Fuck, I’d never felt this connected to anyone before.
“Hey, Angel, remember-” I kissed you gently between words, rocking steadily into you. “-when you said you’d-” God, I loved you so much. “never had sex – in the shower?” You whimpered agreeably at the thought. Problem was, I was already right on the verge of coming. And you could tell.
I pulled out just in time and, biting back a groan, spilled my warm release across your stomach with a shudder. I let out a heavy breath as I looked down with a grin, delighting in the sight of my pearl-white load pooling on your belly and trickling languidly down your side.
“Shower?” I chuckled, lifting my head.
I had you up against the shower wall almost immediately. We stood together, beneath the cascading hot waters; steam rising up around us and engulfing our bodies. My touch travelled down your saturated form and your arms were around my shoulders as I lowered my mouth to the crook of your neck. I kissed you there; fingers digging into your hips when I pressed myself into you, trapping you between my firm body and the slick wall. I moved my mouth lower and my hand higher; my tongue traced the curve of your breast while I massaged your other in my palm, and then I closed around your nipple; a firm graze of my teeth eliciting needy whimpers from your lips.
Releasing my hold on you, our gaze drew level again; vision obscured by the stream of water spilling down our faces. “Turn around.” It wasn’t really a request.
You followed my demand and faced the wall, breasts pressed against the cool, damp tiles. My caress spread over your shoulders and down your arms before gripping your wrists, gently, and pinning them above your head with one hand while my other travelled down to your ass. I moved your legs further apart with my knee, and then I gripped my length, pushing up and into your tight core once more.
“Max-” You gasped my name but couldn’t manage to verbalize how good it always felt having me inside you.
I moved your hair to kiss the back of your neck, and I began thrusting at a deliberately slow pace. “I love you so much, Angel. I love every part of you. I love everything we do together.” My words were mumbled into your shoulder, partially obscured by the sound of the running of the water as it fell down over us. You rolled your head back and our mouths met in a deliciously wet kiss. I trembled with every pump of my hips, and right then, it was impossible to tell where one of us ended and the other began with our synchronized breathing and tenderly whispered I love you’s.
It didn’t take long for you to reach you second breath-taking climax of the evening, and I soon followed you over the edge, miraculously remembering to pull out again and letting my come spill over your ass before being taken with the steady flow of the running water.
But I knew we were nowhere near done, and we soon stumbled from the shower to the bed, still soaked and tangled in one another’s embrace. Moving on top of you and lowering myself until you felt my hot breath on your damp skin, I smiled affectionately. “You wanna do it again?”
We were completely absorbed in one another; consumed by love and chasing high after high. It was hours of nothing but music and smokes and sex; hot, sweating, passionate, intense love-making which delivered us panting and fatigued to the early hours of the morning where the sun was threatening to crest across the Los Angeles skyline.
You laid on my chest for hours afterward. We couldn’t sleep for a long time, but we couldn’t manage much else, either. “This is better than the coke.” You chuckled, taking the cigarette from my lips before passing it back to me.
“Yeah, comedown’s usually a little gentler.” I took another drag and traced soft circles over your forearm; you were finally starting to feel sleepy. “Long as you don’t make a habit of it, y’know… Shit’s alright in moderation.”
You closed your eyes, fingers playing up and down my chest. “You’ve really got a lot of experience, huh?”
“Yeah. And not all good. I’ve had some fucking bad trips…” I watched the smoke swirling up through the dark above us until it dissipated somewhere near the nicotine-stained ceiling. “You should sleep.”
But you already were. I reach back to crush the butt in the ashtray and then I kissed your forehead tenderly as you slept in my arms. I knew the next day was going to bring consequences, but for now we had this, and tomorrow wasn’t here, not yet.
Chapter 20: The World of Dino Velvet
Chapter Text
In under three weeks, we’d built a relationship on a foundation of lust, addiction and innumerable bad decisions. Despite my good intentions, I’d gotten into fights and put you in harm’s way more than I was comfortable with admitting. Yet somehow, we’d both convinced ourselves you were better off with me than you were without me. My life had always been an amalgamation of drink and drugs and sex, and now I’d dragged you into it with me and we called it love.
Dependent on and consumed by the way we made each other feel, we continued down a path of corruption and precarious choices…
You began to stir shortly after midday, having been startled awake by the sound of the phone ringing; rolling over in the bed with a weary groan, you extended an arm in your search for me. But I was already up, sitting at the table sipping coffee in my boxer shorts, and nursing a mild hangover.
“Morning, gorgeous.” I placed the mug on the table and picked up the receiver. “Hey, it’s Max.” You huffed and pulled the sheets over your head, trying to avoid the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. “Shit, hey Jonnie. Yeah uh, yeah sorry about last night, we just, decided to head home early, y’know?” I pinned the phone between my ear and my shoulder, awkwardly trying to light a cigarette while Jonnie questioned where we’d disappeared to last night. “So, did you guys pick yourselves up a nice stripper or two?” I almost choked on my cigarette at Jonnie’s reply. “No fucking way? Oh, he’s gotta be desperate... Hey, hey babe,” I tried to get your attention but you only huffed from beneath the sheets. “Babe, Mikey picked up a hooker outside the club.” You groaned in amusement. “Dirty fucker.”
I finished up on the phone to Jonnie – who had only called to check we’d made it home okay after departing the strip club without a word – and I grabbed the second mug of coffee I’d not long made and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Here. Coffee.”
Reluctantly you emerged, and dragged yourself up to lean against the wall; naked from the waist up with the sheets draped around your midriff. “Thanks.”
“How are you feeling?” I smiled tenderly, watching you over my shoulder.
“Could be worse…” You mumbled. I nodded my head in agreement and laid flat on the bed, placing my head in your lap so I could look at you.
“Well,” I drew on my cigarette as I spoke, “I for one,” and exhaled with a grin, “had a fucking good time last night.”
You giggled, stroking your fingers through my hair; it was sticking out at all angles. “Yeah, so did I.” You ran your fingers over the stitches in my hairline; the laceration was mostly healed by now and the stitches were coming out. “Max… You realize we spent another hundred dollars last night… Minimum.”
I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. You were right. We were broke, and our minimum-wage porn-peddling professions weren’t exactly paying the bills. I’d been living pay check to pay check for a while hoping the music would’ve taken off. But it hadn’t. “Maybe I can pick up more shifts.”
Silently, you eased me off your lap and slid out of the bed. Propped up on my elbows, I watched you seize your jacket from the back of a chair and search through the pockets, before producing a small, white business card. You sat down beside me, handing me the card.
“Eddie Poole?” I shook my head, recognizing the card as the one I’d thrown in the trash three days prior. “Nah.” I took a final drag and sat up, discarding the butt. “Why’ve you got this? I thought-”
“Yeah, you did throw it out. I took it back out the trash… I think we should give it a go.”
“You believed his shit about, celebrity films? Baby he isn’t a good guy if he’s involved with Dino Velvet. Do you have any idea the kind of obscene movies that guy produces?”
“Yeah. You said. ‘Real sick shit’… Max you don’t know.”
I smirked. His stuff was hardcore, at least from what I’d heard. I wasn’t overly familiar with what he did but I’d seen it advertised in the back pages of bondage magazines and I knew enough to know if they weren’t the kind films we sold, then they weren’t for the faint hearted. And they weren’t something I wanted you involved with. “I know you were looking for Hollywood fame but-”
“What harm does it do just to meet with them?”
You were starting to make sense. We did need the money, and meeting with Eddie and Dino to discuss potential film prospects couldn’t do too much harm. I turned the card over in my fingers and studied the phone number on the back of the card. “Okay.”
I headed for the phone and punched in the number. After a couple rings, the familiar voice of Eddie Poole answered. “Hey. It’s Max California… From Stan’s of Hollywood?” It took a him a few seconds to register who I was. “Blue hair, yeah… Look we’ve thought about your offer.” He started asking about you almost immediately. “My girlfriend too, yeah… Angel.” I glanced at you, not wanting to give him your real name. You were anxious, twisting the hem of the bedsheets around your fingers. “Tomorrow night, sure.” I hung up the phone and let out a slow breath.
“Well?” You waited to hear what he’d had to say.
“Ten thirty tomorrow night, Eddie wants us to meet Dino.” I sat back down beside you and slipped my hands gently through your hair. “You don’t think this is another bad decision?” I wasn’t worried about me; I was worried about you.
“I don’t know. But we have to do something.”
Eddie Poole’s business premises consisted of a single office on the middle floor of a disheveled high-rise. It was the kind of place you felt you like wiping your feet on the way out. A gathering of half-dressed and demoralized-looking women were gathered in the small recess outside of his 4th floor office; no doubt waiting for their turn to audition for one of his movies. They didn’t look impressed when we strolled ahead of them and knocked on the clouded glass window of the grimy door.
“Come in.” The unfamiliar voice was commanding but buoyant. I glanced at you, and opened the door, stepping inside. The office itself had an air of the 1970’s to it; it probably hadn’t been redecorated in over twenty years; tired wood panelling and large, dusty, metal-framed windows. The whole space was adorned with lewd posters of naked women, stacks of video tapes and television screens, and filing cabinets overflowing with unorganised papers and pictures of girls.
And behind a sizeable, mahogany desk, sat Dino Velvet.
I closed the door behind you and, Eddie – who was lingering behind his own desk whilst Dino occupied it – gestured for us to sit down in front of them both. Dino was as unsavoury as I’d imaged he’d be; slick black hair and meticulously trimmed beard, heavy lidded eyes and dressed in a darkly flamboyant shirt, unbuttoned at least half-way down. This man worshipped himself, and expected others to do the same.
“Max and Angel, I presume?” His voice was oily and dangerous and he greeted us with an insincere smile. I nodded and we sat down in the brown leather chairs opposite the two unsavoury men. “You should speak when spoken to,” his gaze switched from me, to you, and he looked you up and down predatorily, “darling…”
“Yes.” You interjected.
“Eddie was right.” He stood up and walked around the desk, stopping to perch directly in front of you. His ran his pointed fingernails over his throat and chest, craning his neck before speaking again. “You two are exactly what we’re looking for. You see, I’m putting together a little production crew, and cast, here in L.A. Gonna make ourselves a movie or two. Right Eddie?”
“Sure thing.” Eddie agreed.
“You ever wanted to know what it’s like to be famous, Angel?” You swallowed and nodded nervously, already regretting the idea of being here. Dino drew a sharp breath and rubbed his temple. “I’m going to be honest with you both. We make art, in the World of Dino Velvet.” He pointed directly at me. “Forget everything you think you know, Max. I’m aware you’re more than familiar with the porn industry. But here? We don’t make cheap porno flicks, baby, we make art.”
I clenched my jaw and spoke my mind, getting back to my feet. “Look I think we might’ve made a mistake-”
“Sit. Down. Max.” I did as I was instructed. “Let me finish the pitch, at least.” He leant closer than I was comfortable with; I could feel his foul breath on my face and his sharp nails dug into my skin as he gripped my face between his finger and thumb. “Oh, Eddie was definitely right about you… You’re exactly the kind of punk people would pay good money to see violated in all the most depraved and disgusting ways.” My face must’ve conveyed my revulsion at his words, but he continued regardless. “Oh, c’mon. I bet that ass of yours is just as soft and supple as your face. Oh, I could have my boys make that ass bleed, Max California.” I forced my face away from his grip and he laughed again. “Calm the fuck down, it was only a suggestion. Don’t tell me a man who looks and dresses like you doesn’t swing both ways?”
“I’m straight.” I insisted.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy getting fucked in the ass, Max.” Although his sentiments weren’t unfounded – because anal penetration? Sure, I was down for just about anything so long as it was with a girl – his blunt use of language made me clench involuntarily. It may well have been a suggestion but if we were to agree to any, of this, I had a feeling his suggestions would very quickly become demands we couldn’t back out of. His attention turned back to you and he lit himself a cigarette. “And you? I could do so many things with that body…” He leant back, framing his vision of you with his fingers as though looking through the lens of a camera. “Suspend you from the ceiling; tight, leather straps and a collar round this pretty little neck-” His fingers weaved their way over your skin while he spoke. “Spank your ass until it’s red raw and then split you down the middle…” His hand slipped slowly lower over your chest. “Triple, penetration.” His eyes travelled back to me. “How’d you feel about watching you girl get all torn up, Max?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up again. “That’s it, we’re leaving-”
Dino whipped the pistol from the back of his jeans before I could comprehend what was happening and he aimed it directly at my forehead. You bit back a panicked shriek and stared wide eyed at his finger on the trigger. Even Eddie had a look of surprise on his face. I stumbled with my hands above my head and fell back into my chair immediately. “I haven’t finished, my pitch.” He clicked the safety off and continued to aim the pistol between my eyes. “Get on your knees, baby.”
I stared at you and shook my head but you were too terrified to disobey him. His cigarette hung between his lips and with his free hand, Dino reached into his back pocket and produced a small brown packet. He threw it onto the desk. “Three hundred dollars to suck my dick. Call it… An audition with incentive.”
“No, no.” My hands were still raised above my head as I protested. “She’s not some whore, Dino-”
“I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut, Mr California. And hey, don’t take it personally. It’s not that I wouldn’t want you to suck it, Max, I just think she’s probably got more experience than you.” He chuckled to himself and I couldn’t do much besides bite my tongue and keep quiet. He began unfastening his pants. “Do it well and I’ll make it six hundred.”
Eddie watched on keenly as you dropped to your knees with mascara stained tears running down your cheeks, and I sat, powerless to prevent what was about to happen. Dino slipped his hand inside his pants and gripped his cock, rolled his head back, and then let out a deranged and amused laugh.
“Jesus, fucking, Christ, people!” He moved the gun away and pulled his hand back out. “I’m kidding!” You choked out a sigh of relief and I lowered my hands. This guy was definitely, a psychopath. “You should see your faces…” Eddie was hesitantly playing along with whatever sick game Dino was playing. “But hey, look what you were willing to do for a few hundred dollars… I’m offering you fifteen hundred.” Shakily, you climbed back to your feet and stumbled backwards to stand beside me whilst Dino threw the gun onto the desk and fastened his pants.
“I wanna shoot the two of you.” He pointed at us both with a grin. “On film. I mean it, you’ve got the look I’m after for my new project. I’ll pay you two to fuck on camera; bondage, S and M. Hardcore but believable, some real…” He waved his hand casually in the air. “Artsy shit.” His tone returned to something considerably more business-like and he strolled back to sit behind his desk like he hadn’t held me at gun point whilst sexually assaulting you.
“I don’t…” I was speechless.
It was you who managed to find the words to respond. “We’ll think about the offer.”
Dino suddenly slammed his hands against the desk making everyone – including Eddie – jump. “You give me a call when you’ve made your mind up. But I promise, it’ll be the easiest money you’ve ever made.” There was a long and awkward silence before he waved in the vague direction of the door. “You can leave now.”
Out of the building and standing in the street I wrapped my arms around you and pulled you tight into me. I’d never been so scared for either of us as I had been in the presence of Dino Velvet. “It’s okay, baby, you’re okay.”
“I swear if you say ‘I told you so’-” You sobbed against my chest.
“Well, I did.” I chuckled gently, still holding you.
“Know it all.” You lifted your head and looked into my eyes. “I know, I’m an idiot.”
I smiled and kissed your forehead. “No, I’m an idiot for allowing you to drag us here. Hey, no real harm done, right?”
“Let’s just, go home.”
The problem was, neither of us were completely turned off the idea. Dino was a psychopath, but Eddie just seemed like your average sleaze. And it’s not like we’d actually come to any real harm by the end of our meeting. Fifteen hundred dollars just to fuck in front of a camera was starting to sound like a pretty good deal.
“How much do you know about Dino Velvet?” I cornered Jackson in the store the following day to extract what information I could out of him; I figured if anyone could give us more details about the infamous World of Dino Velvet, it’d be the manager of a major porn retailer.
“We don’t stock his films, Max.” He didn’t look at me, instead focussing his attention on a shelf of leather whips on the pretence of neatening the display.
“Yeah, I know that. And there’s a reason for it, right?” I continued to probe.
Jackson looked a little uncomfortable answering my questions, but with a hesitant sigh, he told me what he knew. “It’s hardcore.”
“I know that much.”
“Some of it’s just, your average hardcore, you know, extreme bondage, niche fetish play. Real weirdo shit.”
“Some of it?”
“Yeah. Then there’s, the really hardcore… I’m talking,” He paused and lowered his tone. “Illegal shit. Rape, bestiality… Underage stuff, Max. Kids. At least, those are the rumours. I don’t go for that stuff…”
I wasn’t sold on it. These were rumors, and I hadn’t seen proof for myself. I knew about the niche fetish and extreme S and M, bondage stuff. I needed to know where to buy this stuff because I needed to know how deep in shit we were with Dino and his offer. “Say uh, hypothetically,” Jackson frowned. “Hypothetically, if one wanted to purchase something like-”
“Look, whatever sick shit you’re into Max-”
“Ah, no, no… Look,” I busied myself straightening a rack of anal beads as a customer walked past us. “I’m not. I’m just, wondering, where this shit is sold.”
“What, so you can avoid it?” Jackson scoffed. I wanted to tell him the truth; that Dino was trying to persuade you and I to star in his latest art piece, but I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it.
“Yeah. Precisely.” I shrugged, defeated.
“You speak Spanish?”
“Sure. Mi Español no es malo.”
“Good, because you’re probably gonna need it.”
And that’s how I first discovered the location of the invariably shifting, Los Angeles underground porn ring.
Nef (Guest) on Chapter 12 Wed 24 Jul 2024 08:33AM UTC
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RavensAndCheesecake on Chapter 12 Wed 24 Jul 2024 08:35AM UTC
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Nef (Guest) on Chapter 13 Sat 27 Jul 2024 11:10AM UTC
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