And In The End

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Is it the end? Or a new beginning?
4.8k words
4.41
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/20/2006
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Author's note: The subtitles are from The Beatles song "The End" this song can be found on "Abbey Road"

A special thank you goes to 3113 for all your help editing and your patience-BJB

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And In The End

The first rays of sunshine peeked through the curtains and hit me in the face waking me out of a blissful sleep. I had been pretty drunk the previous night, so before I opened my eyes I tried to remember who I had lying next to me.

I rolled over gingerly, my shoulder twinging from the effort reminding me that it wasn't quite healed yet. I took a deep breath and looked at the form under the sheets. Ah, that's right I nodded to myself, Paul.

I sat up and watched him as he lay helpless in sleep. It had been a wild week. Now I was wondering if I had made a good decision letting him carry me off to his flat, onto his bed and more importantly into his heart. I knew I wasn't really ready to be in a committed relationship. But more to the point a committed relationship a man.

I'll admit the initial experimentation phase had been exciting. I had never voluntarily had sex with another man and it was a novel experience. But was it what I wanted in the long term? Was it fair to Paul, and to be honest, to myself to let this go on?

I leaned back against the headboard and reached for my cigarettes and lit one, replaying the previous night in my head. Paul had been especially eager. I could tell he was had wanted to please me at any cost. I wasn't exactly sure why but I took full advantage of it.

Up until now I had been passive in our relationship, letting Paul take the lead. Perhaps it was courage fuelled by booze that prompted me to order him to give me head. I think we were both surprised when he dropped to his knees in front of me without a word. He unzipped and yanked my jeans down almost taking me down with them. I had to hold on to the headboard steady myself.

This time I didn't close my eyes and imagine a woman's lips there as I had with him in the past. Instead I took his head in my hands and laced my fingers in his hair and watched his every move. It was fascinating watching my cock disappear into his mouth, at the same time the sensations coursed through me. I can't say he was gentle. Several times he actually bit down on me, not that hard but enough to make me wince. I didn't want to come just then so I pulled out of his mouth after a few minutes of that.

Once we both naked on the bed, he handed me a condom and some lube. There was an awkward moment when our size difference came into play, but with the help of some pillows and his determination we got beyond that.

There was also the worry that I wouldn't be the sort of lover he wanted. I guess you'd call it performance anxiety but once he was bent over in front of me I momentarily forgot what I was supposed to do next.

I got the head of my cock into his warm ass and stopped. I wasn't exactly sure how to proceed should I go in easy? Or bound in? Luckily he made that decision for me by backing up to me completing the entry. I guess I expected it to be very much like having sex with a woman, but there was that tinge of forbidden or taboo to it. It was more exciting than I had ever imagined.

Paul was quite possibly the hottest lover I had ever had. He bucked like a wild bronco a couple of times almost knocked me off my perch. In one crazy moment I had the vision of donning spurs and a saddle to stay put.

If I slowed down he urged me on, reaching behind him to cup my ass and pulling me harder to him. I thought I was hurting him because each time I thrust home he'd grunt like he was in pain, so I eased back a bit. When I did that he reared up and grabbed my hair in his fist, bringing tears to my eyes and ordered me to fuck him harder.

Towards the end of it, I had a hard time holding on to his hips. His body was slick with sweat and I was just as drenched. When I did come I collapsed on him pinning him to the bed until both of us caught our breaths.

I took another drag on the cigarette and noticed with a little surprise that the previous night's remembrances had given me a hard on.

Paul woke up and looked at me, "Good morning boss."

I stubbed out the cigarette, "Can I ask you a question?"

He yawned, looked at the rise in the blankets my memories had caused, "if it's 'do I make you horny?' I'd say yes."

"No, the question is why do you insist on calling me boss? I have a name you know."

"At first, I did it just because I knew it pissed you off. But that was before I came to know and love you," he sat up putting his arm around me, "now it's a habit."

I sighed, "Just once I'd like you to call me by my real name."

"But it's a really silly name," he laughed. Then he kissed me. He threw back the blankets and padded towards the bathroom. I tossed a pillow at his retreating form, hitting him in the back and got out of bed.

When he came out I was standing at the window looking down at the street below us. He stood close behind me and circled his arms around my waist pulling me towards him. "What are you thinking?"

"About us." I pulled away from him and took a seat on the sofa.

"That doesn't sound good," he frowned and sat down next to me. "What's on your mind boss?"

"Paul, please?"

"Sorry old habit," he grinned apologetically, bowing in my direction, "what's on your mind, sweet baby James?"

"I'd settle for just James," despite myself I smiled at his antics, "can you be serious for one moment? Let me say what I have to say without interrupting please?"

He sat back and put on a stern face. The corners of his mouth turned up in an attempt not to smile so he wasn't pulling it off very well. I took a deep breath, "You are very special to me Paul. I think as much as I am capable of loving someone, I do love you."

"But?"

"But I don't see this as being something that is good for either of us. I don't regret a moment of this. I also know that you deserve someone who will be committed to you and love only you and I can't do that."

He shrugged, "I can understand you're bi, if you want women on the side I can deal with that."

"I can't see us ever being able to be out as a couple. You can't tell me you're OK with that."

He shook his head slowly and left me on the sofa going into the kitchen. "Do you want coffee?"

I joined him, "I'm not done Paul."

"I know where this is going. Save your breath I don't need your lame excuses, alright?" he looked at me with tears in his eyes, "I just hope you find that special someone who makes you as happy as I could make you, if you'd only let me. I can heal you James, I can make you forget whoever it was that hurt you so badly that the minute someone treats you the way you deserve to be treated, with love and care, you run away."

"Now you're just being overdramatic."

He grabbed my wrists and pulled me close to him, "I don't think you're being very honest with yourself. It's not me, it's not it getting out that you might be bi that's really bothering you. You can't handle intimacy, you can't handle love. Sex yeah, that you can do in spades. As long as you're getting fucked or fucking someone you're cool. But if they love you? You're gone so fast the sheets aren't even dry. You do deserve to be loved. You are worthy of it. I hope you realise that sooner than later or you will die a very lonely man."

"Thanks for that analysis Dr. Paul," I pulled away from him, "if you want out of the band, I'd understand. Maybe it's not a good idea for us to work together anymore."

I walked to his bedroom and gathered my things. It was pretty hard to get dressed with my heart pounding hard and my hands shaking badly but I managed to after a fashion. When I came out he was holding a cup of coffee in his hands.

"James? Before you go, let me just tell you that if you walk out now, that's it. I'm not coming for you ever again."

"I know."

"And don't worry your secret is safe with me. I don't kiss and tell."

"Thank you."

"I would still like to be in your band. I am capable of keeping my professional and private life separate. You may be the most fucked up person I've ever met but you are talented. I think you have a long career ahead of you, and I'd like to be part of that," he sipped his coffee, "I think I'll go back to calling you boss. It suits you better."

I nodded, opened the door and stepped out into the hallway before I felt the impact of all of it hit me so hard I had to lean against the wall to get my bearings. After a minute I took a deep breath, lit a cigarette and made for the lifts.

As I got into the taxi and looked up at Paul's flat; he was standing by the patio glass watching me leave, seeing him like that sent a knife of pain through my heart but I knew I had made the right decision.

Or at least I hoped I had.

The Love You Take

I knew he was leaving me way before I think even he knew.

I wasn't blind. I could see it in his eyes and in the way he drank himself stupid almost every night. Part of me knew I was a fling, an experiment and it was not going to last. I still loved him with all my heart, I couldn't stop it, nor did I really want to.

The night before it all ended he was restless. We had spent most of the week in my apartment making love, watching movies on the TV, ordering in and just living in a cocoon of our own making. I think all the intimacy and closeness was getting to him.

In the middle of a cuddle and movie he got off the sofa and started pacing like a caged animal. "You OK boss?"

He shot me a wild look, like he wanted to run screaming from the room at the sound of my voice but then got himself under control, "Let's go out somewhere. The walls are closing in on me."

"I just ordered pizza."

"It'll keep, please Paul? I am serious if I stay in again tonight I am going to lose my mind." He said with a humourless laugh.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Out, I'd like to go to a club someplace where we could dance," he closed his eyes and swayed a bit like he was listening to the music already. He was starting to freak me out, so I took his arm and tried to get him to sit down. Instead he lifted me off the sofa and put his hands on my hips, pulling me in tight to him, grinding himself into me, "wouldn't you like to dance with me?"

"I'd love that but you know that would just wind up in the tabloids tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right," he let go of me and stopped swaying. "We can still go out though, and dance, just not together."

At the club, he was almost instantly swarmed with beautiful women. I bit back the green-eyed monster and reminded myself it was just dancing. I repeated my new mantra when one of the women essentially dry humped him. I had to admire the way he danced. His lithe frame seemingly possessed by the music. It was intensely frustrating having to watch instead of able to dance with him. I felt almost dirty; like a peeping tom.

The guy sitting on the stool next to me was watching me watch him dance too. He nudged me with his elbow, "who's that little hotty?" he leered.

"He's straight" I lied. Just then he almost fell over, trying to dip some girl on the dance floor.

"They all are until they get enough drink in them. He's about two away from being anybody's."

I couldn't argue with that. Instead I finished my drink and started removing my boy from the crowd. One of the women was pretty vocal about my actions and grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. We had a tug of war for a brief moment but I won.

The minute the door to my apartment was closed he pushed me up against it and gave me a slow lingering kiss. I was a bit taken aback by his aggressiveness because he had never made the first move before. I think dancing got him worked up. He pulled back and took me by the hand leading me into the bedroom.

"I want to make love to you," he smiled widely at me, "but first, you need to make it worth my while."

"Meaning?"

"Make me hard." With that I unzipped his jeans, got on my knees and took him into my mouth. I don't think he really enjoyed the blow job as much as I did. I'm sure all the ladies who had gone before me treated his cock like it was made of glass but I don't play that way. He yelped when I scraped my teeth across his head, and bit his shaft. He withstood it longer than I expected him to, but after a few minutes he pushed me off of him.

It always amazed me for such a small man he had quite the package. I had wanted to feel him in me but I didn't quite know how to approach the subject as I didn't want to scare him off. I was amply rewarded for my patience by receiving one hell of a fucking by him.

At first he entered me slowly, like I was a virgin. I didn't want to be treated like china so I bucked back into him fully taking him into me. He was incredibly gentle at first, but his slow love making technique was not what I wanted. He was only frustrating the hell out of me, more than turning me on.

I got in his face yanking him by the hair so hard I thought he was going to punch me. I hissed at him, "Stop acting like I'm one of your swooning groupies! Fuck me like a man, you wimp!"

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He pulled almost all the way out and drove himself back in hard enough to knock my breath from me.

Aside from the way he exhaled each time he thrust in, he was completely silent. I tried to get him to make some noise. Encouraging him to call me names or do something, but he stayed mute. His rhythm never faltered, in fact I had no warning he was about to come until he grew in me, then pulled me tight to him.

Usually after sex I wound up holding him, but this time he moved away from me the minute he caught his breath. He took one of the pillows putting it between us and went to sleep. I dismissed this as being due to all the booze he had consumed, even though warning bells were going off in my head.

I lay awake for a long time and just watched him sleeping. He looked like a small boy curled up on his side, his hair in his face.

When I did fall asleep I dreamt of him. He was far away from me on a mountain and no matter how I tried I couldn't reach him. Then the area around me began to catch fire, I woke up with a start to find him sitting up in bed smoking.

I'm not much of a morning person but for him I managed to be at least civil. I could see by the faraway look he had in his eyes that morning that he was already leaving me. I saw it, noted it, but didn't want to believe it.

I was treated to the whole "it's not you, it's me" speech. I wanted to pick him up by his scrawny shoulders and shake the living shit out of him. I wanted to scream at him that he was never going to find anyone who could treat him better, but I kept it cool. I knew that nothing I would say or do would change his mind.

Instead I let him leave me. I watched him get into a cab, willing him to look at me; he did and made a half wave in my direction then disappeared into the vehicle.

So much for love.

Is Equal To

A few weeks later, as I sat in my manager's office listening to him talk about upcoming appearances he had scheduled for me, and all the plans for this or that show I realised I needed a holiday in the worst way. My head hurt, my mind felt full and I didn't want to be Mr. Rock Star any more.

Russ didn't seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm, instead he just charged on. I envisioned opening the window behind me and scaling down some piping to escape or maybe even better just jumping out. Free falling until that last jarring contact with earth, and then SPLAT. Unfortunately in my daydreaming I said that word aloud.

"Splat?" Russ shot me a confused look, "Is that a commentary on something or are you just trying out a new word eh boyo?"

"Oh, sorry, never mind, go on." I sat forward in the chair trying to feign interest; obviously I didn't fool him because he closed the binder in front of him and stood up.

"I think not. Do me a favour Jimmy; go get some tea. When you're ready to be a good boy and listen to ol' Russ, come on back."

I went down the street to a small café. I ordered some lunch, and a pot of strong tea. As I waited I tried to pull myself together. A few tables over two teenaged girls spotted me and giggled whispering to each other.

I smiled at them and that caused another round of giggling. One of them came over and flashed her pert breasts at me asking me to sign them.

"I'm sorry love, I don't sign anything that can get me arrested." I joked, and after a few rounds of negotiations I signed the back of her shirt instead.

The food and the tea definitely woke me up but I didn't want to go back to Russ' office and waste the rest of the afternoon listening to him drone on. I rang him on my mobile gave him some lame excuse and headed uptown. It was a rare sunny day, so I decided to just walk for a bit. I was hoping wherever my feet took me something would get me out of my funk.

With no clear path in mind I was surprised to find myself standing outside the first club I had played at. I remembered being so nervous that I threw up before going on stage, and hearing my name as the manager announced me made my heart almost stop in my chest.

But there was something special too about that, first times.

Unbidden I thought of Paul and the first time we had made love. I must have looked like a right prat standing outside this club, staring into the darkened windows because a moment later the door opened and this blonde woman stepped out.

She barely looked at me, announced, "We're closed until 7. Come back then" and started to shut the door again. I turned to walk away when another woman came out of the club and said something to her.

She looked at me again, "Who?" she said.

Her companion said my name and pointed at the record store across the street. I turned around to look at what she was pointing at and saw that it had a huge display of my album in the front window. The two of them debated if that was really me. While they were distracted I took the opportunity to make my exit. I had almost gotten past the club when the blonde caught up to me. "I am sorry I didn't recognise you, you're not really my style of music."

She stopped and turned pink,"OK Sarah that was totally rude," she mumbled to herself, smacking her hand on her forehead, "can we try that again?"

She stuck out her hand, "Hi I'm Sarah."

As I shook her hand I couldn't help but smile at her, "Hi Sarah, I'm charmed."

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, "Yep that's me little Miss Charming."

She gestured at the club, "Would you like to come in? It's not much but I just took it over from my dad, and we're trying to make it into something."

"I've actually been in here before. Your dad gave me my first shot at performing, he is sort of responsible for unleashing me on the world," I said as we walked into the dark foyer, "how is he doing these days?"

"Dead," I quickly offered my condolences, but she dismissed them, "he has been gone for two years."

She led me to the main room. The stage was so much smaller than I remembered it, and the whole place had a shabbiness that announced that they were not doing very well. "The problem is that there are too many clubs in London. We can't get the sort of acts that we need to keep things up." She said seemingly reading my mind.

I am not sure what prompted me to say this but the words seemingly popped out of my mouth all on their own, "if you have dinner with me tonight, I will play a show here Saturday free of charge."

Her friend who had been following close behind us made a loud squeaking noise that made both us turn around and look at her. After a second or two, Sarah turned back to me. "You're kidding right?"

"I'm totally serious."

"Just dinner?"

"Unless you're offering something else," I laughed, but she didn't seem to be nearly as amused as I was, "Just dinner. I promise."

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