A Deviant Spawn Betrayal Ch. 04

Beneath the picture was printed, "Famed musician Taz of Deviant Spawn confirms on Christmas morning the identity of the inspiration behind Him...along with his plans to soon wed his male lover."

Rory the inspiration behind our newest, fave Deviant Spawn song? That was too cool!

And Taz? And Rory?

Getting married?

"Okay, right, ah...yeah, um, for reals?" I questioned, trying to wrap my mind around what I'd just read.

"Apparently, Taz has been obsessed with the boy for years," Revelin revealed.

"Years?"

"According to the text he sent me this morning. Fucker didn't want to creep me out with his pedophilic inclinations, so he decided it best to keep his long running fascination with your friend on the low."

"And you think he's telling the truth?"

"He forwarded me the photo that jumpstarted his obsession. Rory looked like he might've been about fourteen or fifteen when it was taken." Revelin winked at me. "Know who else was in that photo looking all lost and lonely and in need of major loving? Hell, if I'd seen that photo all those years ago when Taz first saw it, I probably would've been infatuated, too. With you."

That was when I decided Revelin must have overloaded my brain at some point during the night. "Going back to sleep now."

"No, you're not. No time. Taz's text was mainly to gloat over that farce of a press conference he set up this morning, but he did also say he and Rory are leaving now to come pick us up for breakfast. And I just received a text from Angel. He and his two are already up and dressed."

"K, I'll get up. Just give me a minute."

"I'll give you two." Revelin got off the bed. My dick stood up all the way to say hello to the naked guitarist, but he was already in the bathroom, taking a piss.

Exhaling heavily, I closed my eyes. Rory and Taz? Unbelievable, but awesome and fantastic.

Me and Revelin? Electrifying, but disturbing and distressing.

I felt at ease with Revelin. And that made me uneasy. It was like he'd slipped through cracks I hadn't been aware existed in my carefully constructed wall.

I didn't like that. Not one bit.

But I liked him.

And why did my feelings even matter when Revelin would soon be out of my life just as quickly as he'd entered it?

It mattered because he'd exposed a major weakness in my protective armor. More than that, it mattered because I didn't want him to go. I wanted to explore what could be between us.

Which would only lead to disaster. As if he would even want me around on a long-term basis to begin with. And even if he did, it was almost guaranteed he would eventually tire of me. Then discard me.

Leaving behind a broken, jumbled mass of Shane Matthew Wilkinson.

And that brought me face-to-face with the beauty of a one-night stand. Or, as it were in our case, a one-night stand plus a day.

At the end of our day together, Revelin would be gone. And I wouldn't have to worry about being emotionally demolished by him. I wouldn't have to worry about trying to hurt him before he hurt me.

I could just focus on what was important: fortifying my wall so no one else ever got through.

"Time's up, Blue," Revelin called from the bathroom. "Now get that sexy ass in here so we can take a shower."

Lifting both arms, I stared at the faint lines crisscrossing the inner part of my forearms. The light in the bathroom would be bright and harsh, would highlight the remnants of my healed injuries.

I may have been crazy on a level equivalent to that of Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen and the scarily skinny Olsen twin, but I was not nutty enough to let that secret out.

"I'm already dressed," I lied, clambering out from under the sheets to make my fib a fact.

My mesh shirt was see through and wouldn't hide my scars, but I knew it would instead double as a distraction with its inappropriateness. From the last time I'd worn this particular shirt during the daytime, I was aware that most people tended to look away when they realized they could see my pink nipples. Quick.

But Revelin didn't fall into the category of most people. And, contrary as it sounded, that's exactly what I was counting on. I was counting on Revelin's forthright manner to assert itself about not giving a shit about what anybody else thought concerning what he said, did or how he acted.

Revelin had made it known early on in Deviant Spawn's career that he was his own man, fuck what everybody else thought.

A few years back, an entertainment reporter had put Revelin's no shit attitude to the test. He'd interrogated Revelin about how he felt on hearing the rumors that a well-known actor, who'd been linked to Revelin for quite some time, had recently started denying their acquaintance and vehemently rejecting any and all reports of their homosexual relationship. Revelin had replied, "I think he did mention something about not being a fag like me the last time we saw each other. Couldn't really understand him though. His mouth was too full of my nuts."

So, in Revelin's case, the goal for my barely there shirt was for it to actually entice him into staring at my pebbly nubs. I was taking a huge risk in forgoing the vest, but my hope was that seeing the nipples he'd licked and sucked on all night long on clear public display would keep him from noticing other things that I truly didn't want to be seen.

By the time Revelin, clad only in a towel slung low around his hips, reentered the bedroom, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands twisted together in my lap. I desperately clung to my plan upon which hinged the last of my cool...which I almost ended up losing regardless when he stopped right in front of me.

And licked his lips.

"Hi," I offered nervously.

"Hi?" he questioned, eyebrows cocked. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Er, no...?" Christ, what did he want? For me to postulate on how our time together irrevocably changed my life forever?

"Er, no...?" he repeated.

O-kay, apparently he did. "Yeah, um, last night was—"

"Whoa, stop right there, baby," he interrupted with a smile. "I don't like the idea of where that statement could end up. Besides, I was just fucking witcha. You don't have to say shit. I heard all I needed to hear last night."

He moved past me to the closet and reached inside for a shirt and a pair of jeans. His phone vibrated just as he finished donning his outfit, sans underwear.

"Taz and Rory are outside," he informed me after checking his cell.

I was off the bed and across the room before he'd finished speaking. He caught hold of one of my arms right as I reached the bedroom's door. My teeth rattled when he slammed me against the jamb and my heart palpitated when he crowded my personal space.

"Do you know how fucking hot it is," he growled, "knowing you're going to be wearing my scent all fucking day long today?"

"Uh, uh, ah, oh, fuck," I moaned as he gave my growing hard-on several rough strokes.

"Hot as those goddamn whimpers you're making right now. And those sexy ass whimpers are the same whimpers I heard you making all last night. They told me everything I need to know." He nipped my neck, then turned me loose. "Now we can leave."

We departed the suite, rendezvousing a second time with the paparazzi who'd evidently stayed at the hotel too and who had already managed to waylay Angel and his girlfriends. That morphed into a full-blown question and answer session once the photographers realized Taz was outside.

And Taz, being the consummate performer that he is, hopped out the limo and boldly announced his intention to wed his male lover for a second time. He tried to sweet talk Rory into leaving the vehicle for some pseudo-engagement photos, but Rory refused to budge.

So Taz invited everyone to take all the pics they wanted of the two lovebirds from inside the limo.

It took more than an hour for all the photographers to get their fill. And Rory was in such a snit over what he deemed as Taz's underhanded, over-the-top actions that our late morning breakfast was cancelled in favor of just heading on over to Rory's house for Christmas instead.

Taz was not fazed by Rory's anger in the least. Just promised to up the size of the diamond in Rory's engagement ring from two carats to three.

And I couldn't fucking believe what I was seeing and hearing! My best friend? Really engaged to Deviant Spawn's lead singer? That was so beast! The excitement I felt for Rory probably rivaled the exhilaration he was feeling himself under that artificial air of annoyance he'd adopted.

Then I made the mistake of glancing up at the face of the man sitting beside me. Penetrating blues gazed back at me, making me remember every single detail of the night before.

Every. Single. Detail.

Heat suffused my face. Revelin smirked.

I looked away, turning my mind to safer matters. Like Christmas. Yeah, Christmas. A harmless enough subject.

Christmas. A time for fun. A time for love. A time for joy. None of which I had ever received from my mother.

Well, maybe not so harmless a subject.

But I was okay when it came to Christmas. Especially since my Christmases were now spent with Rory and his family. And this holiday was a big deal for them as it was the only time of year they could all manage to get together. They'd let it be known several years ago they had more than enough love to share with me.

We pulled up in front of the Banks's house where there was a staggering amount of cars parked in the driveway, up and down the street and on the lawn. A huge amount of people milled around outside, waiting for the infamous Banks's cookout to begin.

"Jesus, lovely," Taz said to Rory. "Exactly how big is your family?"

"What you see right now is about a fifth. So get ready because you're going to spend your whole day, and a good portion of your night, explaining us to everyone's satisfaction." Rory opened the door, exited the vehicle and called out, "Reiko, go get Mom and Dad. I have someone I want them to meet."

"Who?" Rory's older sister yelled back. "Who you got in that limo, Ror? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Just go get them." Rory popped his head back inside and cheerily announced, "Jazzy's here."

"Fucking great," Taz groaned. "Jazzy, love!" he exclaimed, climbing out the vehicle. "Let's talk."

Angel and his two girlfriends were the next to exit, followed by Revelin, then me. Revelin wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. He pressed his lips to my temple.

"Shane!" a scary, domineering voice bellowed.

I damn near jumped a mile in the air on hearing that tone. I knew that tone. As a matter of fact, the last time I'd heard it, I'd been wearing this exact same shirt.

Shit.

"Yes, ma'am, Mama Banks?" my voice was meek and respectful.

"Don't you yes, ma'am, Mama Banks me." The diminutive, aproned woman wiped her hands clean on the hand towel she held, eyes narrowed on me. "Didn't I tell you I never wanted to see that shirt on you ever again?"

"Ye—I mean, maybe, probably, more than likely...? Why?"

"Because I want to know why am I looking at it? On you? Again?"

"And I have a very good answer for that."

"Go on, I'm listening."

"So, it's like this, I totally had every intention of taking it off before I came over here today. Totally. But, but then I got sidetracked. And—"

"Shane?"

"Yes?"

"Upstairs. Right now. Put on some decent clothes. And you leave that piece of indecent scrap of fabric on my bed, do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am, Mama Banks."

"I'm going to burn it."

"But I like it," I whined.

"I get the impression," Revelin whispered in my ear, "that that woman is not one to fuck with, Blue. You better go do as she says."

Shoulders stooped, I tromped towards the house. But Mama Banks wasn't quite done with her mommying of me yet. When I tried to stalk by her, both of her arms shot out and pulled me into a hug. I immediately melted into her nurturing embrace.

"Merry Christmas, my baby. I'm glad to see you without all that horrid makeup hiding your beautiful face, but I'm not happy about you being dressed like a floozy right now." She sniffed loudly.

And when she pulled away from me, I knew I had better make an immediate escape. Or—

"Ouch," I cried, rubbing the spot on the side of my head she'd just smacked. "What was that for?"

"Because you smell like one, too." Her gaze shifted to Revelin. "And I'm guessing that has something to do with you. I know you. Why do I know you? Who, exactly, are you?"

"Not the one who publicly railroaded your son into an engagement." Revelin backed away, pointing over to where Taz stood speaking animatedly with Jazzy. "That would be him."

"Engagement?" she repeated, shocked.

"Who's engaged, Jennifer?" Papa Rick asked, walking up to his wife's side.

"Our son."

"Which one?"

"The one I gave birth to."

"Rory? Engaged? Since when?"

"This morning. It's all over the internet," Revelin helpfully supplied. "His fiancé's name is Broderick."

"But this man isn't innocent, Ricky." Motioning towards me, Mama Banks said, "Shane—"

Was gone.

I took off towards the house. To gain entrance, I had to push my way past Rory's family members who were all trying to get outside to get a look at Rory's fiancé.

Then the shit hit the fan.

"Deviant Spawn's here!" someone screamed. "This is so beast!"

"Uh-uh, those guys aren't Deviant Spawn."

"It is too Deviant Spawn. Can't you see, dummy?"

"He doesn't have his glasses on. What has daddy told you about not wearing your glasses?"

"That is so Taz standing right there with his head bowed next to Uncle Rick."

"Is Unc lecturing him?"

"Ohhh! And that's Revelin over there, running from that towel Auntie Jen is waving."

"Oh, my God, somebody has to go save him!"

"Won't be me. Auntie scares the hell out of me."

"Awww, you just said hell. I'm telling."

"Lauren just ran by with scissors. Why does Lauren have scissors?"

"Jennifer! Don't hit that boy with that nasty ass dish towel!"

"Hold up, I thought we were all coming outside to stare at Rory's fiancé and make him feel uncomfortable? Who the hell are these jokers?"

"I bet that sexy ass Taz is Rory's fiancé. Hahaha, what did I tell ya? Rory just shoved Lauren to the ground."

"I told you guys that article I read online this morning was about our Rory. But, nooo, no one wanted to believe me."

"Let go of Lauren's hair, Rory!"

"I still don't believe these guys are Deviant Spawn. If they really are my favorite rock band, then where's Angel?"

"Over there, stupid. Don't you see Lauren running towards him?"

"With her scissors? What's she going to cut? He doesn't have any ha—"

"Ho-lee-hell, she's going for his pants. I bet he has hair down there."

"Shit! Somebody get those scissors away from Lauren!"

As the stampeding Banks continued their mass exodus, I dashed up the steps to Rory's room. Although I had my own one bedroom apartment, I spent more time at the Banks's house than at my own place so one whole half of Rory's closet had been designated as mine.

I flipped through the shirts. Short-sleeved. Short-sleeved. Ugly. Polo—what the hell? Holey. Grungy—thought I got rid of all my grunge shit. Short-sleeved.

Long-sleeved. Was going to be hot, but it was also going to be necessary. At least it was made out of white cotton.

I changed shirts, deposited my mesh one on Mama Banks's bed as instructed, then snuck downstairs to discover the melee was still going strong. Actually, it looked like more than a few of the neighbors had gotten involved somehow. On my return to Rory's room I had to chase out a couple of his giggling, preteen cousins who stood in the window, peeping out through the blinds. Then, finding Rory's bed way too tempting to resist, I flung myself onto it on my back. The fan overhead spun round and round and I watched it, listening to the escalating ruckus outside. Physically and emotionally exhausted, I didn't try to fight the heaviness pulling at my eyelids.

Quiet. That was the first thing I noticed when I awoke with a start. There was no yelling, no screaming; it was absolutely quiet. The second thing was the gentle caress on my cheek.

Opening my eyes, I saw that Revelin was next to me. We were in much the same positions as we had been that very morning, him sitting with his back propped against the headboard, me laying next to him. The caressing I had felt, I discovered, was the result of his knuckles brushing down the side of my face.

"How long I been out?" I asked.

"A few hours. You've missed some very, ah, interesting developments regarding Taz and Rory."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised."

"His family is very protective of their own."

"That they are."

"Which is why it's time for you to come downstairs. We're up next."

I didn't like the sound of that. But I got up off the bed regardless and accompanied him out to the back deck.

There were kids running around all over the yard. A few adults were out there with them, monitoring the actions of the younger ones. A couple of Rory's beefy uncles manned the two enormous stainless steel grills, flipping the meat and tossing back bottles of beers like they were drinking mineral water.

Everybody else either sat in a chair on the deck, sat on the planks of the deck itself or stood in the yard, clustered around the perimeter of the deck.

All eyes were on Rory, who stood smack dab in the center.

And Taz. Who was on one knee in front of Rory. He held in the fingers of his right hand a ring. White gold. With a huge black diamond.

"You can get on with it now, lover boy," Revelin drawled as we joined the group.

Taz took hold of Rory's left hand. "Lovely, will you—"

"Yes!" Rory screamed, flinging himself at Taz and making a grab for the ring. "Gimme! Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

But Taz was already on his feet, ring held high in the air above Rory's head. "Kiss first."

"Fucker has truly been planning this for quite some time," Revelin murmured to me as Rory planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss on Taz's lips. "After his future in-laws read the stories of Rory's supposed engagement, Mr. and Mrs. Banks advised Taz they expected him to make it happen. Today. But what they didn't know, what none of us knew, was that Taz was one step ahead of everybody. He'd already been in touch with the manager of a local jewelry store and had the guy bring over a ring Taz had specially designed for this very occasion...way back in October of o-nine."

Rory's family hooted and hollered and catcalled as Taz finally managed to detangle himself from Rory's embrace and slip the ring onto Rory's finger.

"Floor's all yours, Rev," Taz called when finished. He found an empty lawn chair off to the side to sit in, then tugged Rory down to his lap.

And Revelin pulled me with him to the spot just vacated by Rory and Taz. The catcalls increased what seemed like tenfold in volume.

No.

"Alright, Blue," Revelin began, staring down into my eyes, holding my hands in his. "We just met last night so this ain't fucking marriage that I'm proposing."

No.

"Can't even say that I'm offering a relationship. At least not yet, I'm not." In a low growl, he added, "But like I said last night, I do own you, baby. I meant that."

No.

Voice normal again, he continued, "And I want to get to know you. So that's why I'm proposing that you come with me for the rest of Deviant Spawn's—"

"No! No! I...can't." I yanked my hands out of Revelin's. "I just...can't." I turned back towards the house and raced to the sliding glass door. In my hurry to get it open, I knocked the door off the track, but not before I managed to make an opening just big enough for me to squeeze through.