Failing Upward Ch. 06

You'd think that knowing Sid was feeling awful, I'd have a bit of empathy and curb my enthusiasm... but what can I say, a musician lives for the crowd. I kept thinking I should be feeling like shit, but the truth was I felt the best I had in weeks.

Failing Upward was hot. For the first time I really believed we could actually become something more than a garage band playing in hick bars.

Then I realized why I could feel this great-- why I was able to feel this wonderful about the band despite all the shit going on in my life. It was Sid, all because of Sid.

Yes, I was in love with Sid.

The last song of course is never the last song. I hoped Sid saw it that way, too.

By the time I helped get our equipment together, Alan had already been back stage to talk to me twice about Sid. I told him not to worry that I would drive him home and take care of him. He said that was what he was afraid of, and what the Hell did I do to his best friend anyway?

"Nothing I can't fix," I yelled back.

On my way to the table I saw Les admiring Smith's eyes.

I sat down next to Sid. He looked up at me and sighed then looked back down in his drink.

"Come on Sid. Give me the keys, I'm driving." He submissively reached in his pocket, pulled out his keys and laid them on the table.

John asked if we wanted to go to Smith's for a party, but I shooed him off. Usually I'm up for a room-full of people after playing, but from now on in my life, someone else came first-- Sid.

I got Sid out to the car without much effort. He didn't say a word to me until we were almost home.

"Wes, what was that all about tonight? I mean, I'm glad the band meshed, and I'm glad your plans for the band are coming together, but tell me Wes, that plan in your head, does it include me?"

I knew what I should have said, but sometimes I'm slow.

"I told Alan tonight that he was right all along," I said. "He's right. I don't deserve someone like you."

"God dam it, Wes! That's what people say when they really mean, 'You're not the one for me.'"

"Shit. This isn't going right at all," I muttered, then cleared my throat. "I thought we'd always be friends not matter what."

"Maybe I was wrong." We rode the rest of the way without saying a word.

I tried to help him up the steps, but he wouldn't let me. I kicked open the door and disarmed the security system while Sid stumbled into the bathroom. I re-armed it and threw the car keys on the counter. I could hear Sid puking-- I sat on the sofa with my head down, listening to his dry heaves.

Finally, the water splashed in the sink. He wavered out, face pale. He made his way straight into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed.

"Good night, Wes."

I walked to the bedroom. As I stood in the doorway, I heard him whisper my name.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Yes-- you know, yes rhymes with Wes. Yes-- Wes." He paused. "Do you know how hard it's been this week? To have you and not know how you really feel? Dam it, I love you, Wes. And I want you so bad. I want you."

I walked across the room and sat next to him on the bed. I started unbuttoning his shirt, and he watched my hands.

Grabbing my shirt back, he pulled me to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. Then said, "Maybe just one pity fuck."

I slid off his shirt, and he pushed me down on the bed.

"That's good," I said. "But this ain't pity."

His hands unfastened my leather pants, massaging my cock as he undid each shiny rivet. He watched unblinkingly into my eyes. The black leather stubbornly stuck to my body; Sid strained to get them off me. Then throwing them to the floor, he turned me over onto my stomach.

"Sid?"

Although I wanted to look into his eyes, his face, and memorize his reaction when I told him, I had to tell him now. I lost the chance as his arm pushed my face into the pillow, reaching over for the lube. It all happened so fast. His fingers thrust into me, cold and sudden, forcing me to bite back a cry. Zip, I felt the vibration of him undoing his fly and the bed roll as he kicked off his jeans.

"There's something I need to tell you--" I choked. Then my strangled cry seared into pillow as he buried his cock up to his balls inside me.

I panted in and out in rapid bursts, savoring the bitter pain-- an atonement for my selfish silence. I heard Sid softly sobbing-- whispering, "Sorry," but he rode me in and out all the harder. In between his frenzied slices of agony, I heard him sniff and gulp. I felt his tears wet on my neck. I knew this physical pounding pain would leave me, but his inner pain would engulf him unless I told him. He was fucking me with such desperation that I was afraid that he considered this drunken fuck would be the last between us and that he believed his doubts about us all along had finally come to fruition: that he was just an experimental model.

My hands staggered across the bed to my sides, gripping the sheets. I wanted my words to mean something, not screamed in throes of passion-pain, uttered to him with my face in a pillow. I wanted him to know that my words came from my soul. Just when I thought the pain was unbearable, a switch tripped and white-hot pleasure replaced agony. The pillow became a statuary for my pathetic cries. With Sid's full weight on me, my body clenched and groaned, hovering near climax. Two more desperate strokes and Sid came inside me, his tears wet in my hair.

He rolled off of me.

"Sorry," he said, between gasps. "I don't know why I did that-- hurt you. And I forgot to use a condom."

I turned, facing him, breathing hard.

"I know why," I panted. "You're falling down drunk. And don't worry about a stupid condom-- I'm Superman. Or did you forget?"

As Sid wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, I took my own hand up and helped him wipe his tears. I made sure his soft eyes held mine before I continued.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have told you as soon as I knew, but I was afraid. I don't want you to end up like everyone else I've ever loved in my life."

"Wes? What does that mean?" he choked.

"It means I love you."

I thought he was going squeeze the snot outta me. "What did you say? I think I heard it, but I'm not sure. Say it again."

"I... love... you."

As he squeezed me again, he noticed my cock close to bursting tight against him. He reached down and skillfully stroked me, telling me how much he loved me back.

As I came he whispered, "I sure hope I remember this in the morning."