Adrift and At Peace

*NOTE* The narrator "Mykal" is an FTM transsexual, who's name is pronounced like "Michael." Thank you!

*

"I'm a friend of Trent Reznor's! I swear to God!"

The security man shook his head. "No backstage pass, no Trent Reznor."

"Fuck this, man!" I threw my arms up and turned to the group of friends behind me. Nick, Sam, Lexy, Chris, and Melanie, the gorgeous blonde holding my hand, just desperate to meet her idol. I turned back to the security thug.

"Look! I'll text him, right now!" I pulled my iPod out and thumbed frantically. But before I finished my message, I heard a familiar voice.

"Mykal Anthony!"

I looked up in disbelief, as my friends made various sounds of shock, their eyes wide. Trent was pushing his way past the guard and reaching for me.

"Trent!"

"Hey, you let them in!" he shouted at the guard, "They're with me!"

"Sorry, boss. I didn't think he was serious when he said he knew you."

"Well, now you know!"

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his arms, kissing my face all over.

"Mmm... Mykal, I have missed you so goddamn much..."

Behind me, I heard my friends expressing their disbelief at the whole situation.

"Oh my God, he wasn't lying when he said he knew Trent Reznor!"

"I always thought it was just bullshit!"

"I just thought he was making it up!"

"Mykal Anthony, are you going to introduce me to your friends?"

I smiled. "Trent, this is Nick, Sam, Lexy, and Chris," I said, drawing each of them forward to shake his hand, "And this--" I pulled Melanie forward, "Is Melanie."

"Enchanted..." he took her hand and kissed it.

He took us deeper back stage, to an area of chairs and couches, where the rest of the band was sitting and talking. We all sat down, introductions were made, and conversation began. Trent and I sank into one of the couches together, and he wrapped an arm around me. It was interesting, to have the entire tech crew of the University there, talking with these professional musicians about their equipment, soundboards and mic styles, their different methods and schools of thought for stage production. Everyone seemed to understand each other immediately, and we all just meshed. Then, after about ten minutes, Trent squeezed my hand.

"Hmm?" I looked up at him and smiled in adoration.

He leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Hey..." he breathed, as the conversation continued around us, "Let's go somewhere..."

"Go where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere. Just you and me."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Great!" He smiled warmly, and stood up, taking me by the hand. A few people noticed our motion for departure, but Trent just held up a hand. "We'll be back, don't worry."

We left that room and he led me down the hall.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I don't know, I was following you."

"I don't know where we're going."

"Let's go out here..." He made an abrupt left, and pushed a door open to reveal the wide expanse of a stage, bathed in the gold and crimson glow of sunset. A swift ocean breeze blew across the stadium. It was beautiful. We walked out to the middle of the stage and I stared in disbelief at the mass of empty stadium seats that stretched out in front of us.

"You play up here?" I asked in awe, "In front of that many people?"

"Every other night for the next three months," he sighed, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He rested his cheek on the top of my head. "God, it's so still here now... You'll never believe it's the same place, 45 minutes from now..."

"I bet." I slipped my fingers between his.

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead.

"Come here--" We walked up to the front of the stage, and he stood me on a white X, taped in the very center. "That's where my mic stand goes."

"Wow..." I said, smiling in disbelief. "God, that's just too fuckin' cool..."

I stayed there for a moment, closing my eyes and feeling the energy of five thousand people, calling my name, screaming for my music, for me... In that moment, I was Trent Reznor. With every cell in my body, I had become him.

His voice broke me from my blissful trance. "Come sit with me, Mykal." He had gone over to the edge of the stage, where he was sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. I walked over and sat down next to him, taking his hand. He laid down on his back with his head in my lap and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly. I smiled, stroking his face and running my fingers through his hair. He was the most beautiful man in the world.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" I said gently.

"No... Not like you." He reached up and traced his fingertips delicately across my face. It gave me goosebumps. "You're beautiful in that fragile, transsexual way," he breathed, "And you make me feel so peaceful, Mykie."

I laughed softly. "I stress most people out."

"Not me. When I'm with you... When I'm with you, I feel adrift and at peace. You are my warm place..." He shifted up onto his side, looking out at the ocean, just visible behind the stadium. He took my arm and held it under his, laying his cheek on my hand. I cradled his head in my arms, feeling the warmth and closeness of our love envelope me. The breeze blew my hair back as I tilted my head up and closed my eyes. Trent was the only person I'd ever felt attached to. He was the only person I'd ever let hold me, and touch me in so intimate a way. Never had I cringed away from his lips. Never had I pushed his hands away. I loved him, like I'd never loved a single person before, and like I've never loved a single person since. And in that moment, when I was holding his head in my lap, it was as if all the stupid pieces of my broken, pathetic life had just come together.

"You're my warm place too."

He looked up at me and smiled. "You know we only have like, half an hour until they open the doors to general admission."

"I know," I sighed. I knew it had to end eventually, I just didn't want him reminding me all the time...

He abruptly stood up. "Lets go to my dressing room. Come on." He extended a hand and pulled me up off the ground.

I gave him a quizzical look.

"I have to fuck you."

It hit me like a punch in the gut.

In a daze, I allowed him to lead me back down the hall like a child. We reached his dressing room. He opened the door, pulling me inside, and then shut and locked it.

"Come here--" He grabbed me roughly and pressed his mouth to mine. I felt his hands work their way over my body, up under my clothes. He bit at my neck, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. He tugged at my garmets with his fingernails, frustrated by the hinderence seperating him from his prize. Before I knew what was happening, my clothes were off and laying in a pile on the ground. Trent and I tongued hungrily while we stripped off his clothes, throwing them aside as well. Then we were naked, touching, feeling. He ran his calloused fingers over my skin, taking me in. I felt his hard member bobbing between us, so I took him in my hand and squeezed. He groaned desperately, burying his face in my neck and biting down hard.

"Trent--!" My voice cracked.

He ignored it and kept going, lifting me easily and placing the head of his cock at my opening. There was no time for foreplay here, it was pure, primal sex. Just raw sex. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to keep up with his pace, but before I could, he had thrust his hips up into me, driving his cock deep into my tight, wet opening. I pulled his hair and screamed his name as he split me open, feeling his knees buckle a little beneath us. He started thrusting almost immediately, burying his member deep inside me, again and again. I screamed each time he penetrated me, the pain mixing deliciously with pleasure. There was an urgency to our lovemaking this time, an intensity.

Trent buried his face into my chest, nipping at what skin he could grasp. He moaned, tightening his hold on me and increasing his speed. He was using me as his fucktoy, and I loved it. He pumped into me relentlessly, like a piece of meat, such a change from the loving, fatherly attention he usually showed me during sex.

I started to babble incoherently. "Oh God, oh, fuck me so hard...!" I cried, digging my nails into his chest, taking handfulls of his chest hair.

"Say my name," he commanded.

"Trent!!" I screamed immidiately, "Fuck me, Trent, fuck me so hard!"

He suddenly turned and threw me roughly down onto the counter, grabbing my hips and pounding into me.

"Oh, fuck yes," he hissed through clenched teeth, putting his hands on my shoulders, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, "Fuck yes, Mykie!" I arched my back and cried out, pulling him into a hard kiss by the back of the neck. Our lips collided together, open-mouthed, and he bit my tongue.

I squealed and pulled away, but he dove in for another kiss.

The entire table was shaking violently as the pressure within us built, pushing us closer and closer to orgasm with each thrust.

I arched my back and tilted my head back to look at our reflection in the mirror. What I saw made me moan out loud. Trent had become an animal, fucking me relentlessly, practically climbing up onto the counter with me. Sweat glistened on his muscled body, and veins stood out on his arms and hands. It was so sexy.

"Unhh, Mykal!" he cried, "I'm gonna cum, baby, finish with me!"

I screamed, dug my nails into his chest and raked them down as climax crashed into our bodies. Trent's snarls turned to a roar as he made one last hard thrust into me, and held his penis in deep penetration as he ejaculated into me. My back thrust into a high arch as all my muscles contracted at once and I orgasmed, holding myself tightly up against Trent's hot body.

He buried his face into my neck, holding me in his strong arms and lipping at my collarbone until our breathing began to slow again.

We were silent a long time, laying naked together. We didn't need to talk. The little kisses and gentle stroking and touching that occurred naturally seemed to speak for us. He put a hand on my chin and turned my head to him, looking directly into my eyes. I became immediately enveloped in their beautiful green, and before long, we had lost track of time again. I noticed he was still inside me.

When we finally did stand up, sweat still clinging to our bodies, we dressed each other wordlessly and gently kissed before leaving the room, hand in hand.

The concert that night was the most amazing show I'd ever seen. It was so erotic to watch him perform. His body language, the sweat, his facial expressions, the way his muscles tensed and flexed, it was all too reminiscent of our sex. And I screamed along with every lyric, like a dutiful little fanboy.

I met up with him again after the show, and he took me back to his hotel room where we laid down together, wrapped in each other's arms. And for once, I slept in my warm place.