Guilty Rhythm Ch. 02

Author's Note:

This is a dark romance erotica. So there will be plenty of sex scenes, but they will not be the entire focus of the story. Some chapters will not have sex at all.

Trigger Warnings:

You can find the overall warnings at the beginning of chapter 1.

Chapter 2 warnings are: group sex, public sex, blowjobs, casual sex, mild racism, verbal abuse.

Act 1: The Wedding

Chapter 2

The worst part about it was how gorgeous they were together.

Bonny's perfect petite figure popped in her pleated white tulle. Looked like a fucking pixie flitting about the dance floor with the giant Yasser.

Yasser, who had switched out his tux for a stunning all white suit, complete with gloves and threads through his short black hair that almost looked like a subtle crown. Like a goddamn fairy tale prince.

They'd finished the first dance with winded grins and a flourishing kiss that only kinda felt like a knife twisting in Avery's gut, but he was getting used to the feeling and practised at pretending to get distracted so he didn't have to see it and no one would hopefully read into him looking away.

In that particular instance, he masked his recoil behind a long sip of sparkling white wine, but being well into a bottle the caterers probably ear marked for him at that point, he barely tasted it. Barely felt the damn bubbles.

"It was a good thing you did."

Avery cringed into his wine. He stared down at the liquid longingly and dreamed of diving in and drowning in it before he dared spare the awful woman a glance. "Wow. This really must be a special day. Don't think you've ever given me credit for anything, Teresa."

She pursed her lips in that all too familiar nasty scowl she reserved only for him when no one was watching. "I'm still your mother."

"No," Avery muttered half way into another long sip. "You are not."

She pulled her sapphire blue shawl tighter around herself, as if simply being near him might expose her to something dirty, and awkwardly perched on the edge of the seat next to him. "You've managed to mostly keep your trademark inappropriate behavior in check." Her disapproving glare dropped pointedly to the rainbow goose tattoo peeking out from beneath his cuff. "Your sister may be 'woke', but we're now joining families with all these Arabs, and you know how--"

Avery barked a laugh way louder than he intended. Mom's sharp glare snapped to him with indignation and alarm.

"Jesus, lady." He shook his head and sent a shrugging glance around at the heads turning their way. "I hope you got their consent before you projected all over them. Yasser's family fucking loves me." Bitter-tasting emotion cracked at his voice, and when the woman's hard eyes softened just a smidge, he hated himself for it. With a frustrated sneer, more at himself than her, he shook his head and waved his wine glass dismissively in her general direction. "I take it you're referring to my lack of a date with which to flaunt just how gay my agenda is. I didn't come alone to be decent. I did that because I'm un-fucking-lovable, clearly. But you're welcome, I guess."

What little pity had reflected in mom's pretty blue eyes, took no time at all to morph into disgust. She looked away with a quiet, callous sigh, to watch the crowd of people happily rushing to fill in the dance floor. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if they cut a little too much off at your circumcision."

Every nerve in his body twinged painfully.

It was stupid. Such a pointlessly cruel and sexist thing to say. He knew it was wrong, but knowing it didn't stop the visceral, cloying anger and hurt from burning through his veins.

Didn't stop the tears from stinging at his eyes.

He gulped down half his remaining wine, then got to his feet with a muttered, "Oh look. I seem to need a refill."

"Of course, you're running away." The force of her rolling eyes stained her voice ugly. Like every goddamn grade school bully he'd ever had to survive. "Whether we like it or not, Avery, we're family. And God knows I'm not over the moon about it either."

He should have walked away in that moment, but his damned willpower always was a slave to his perpetually doomed desire to shut that woman up. To make her regret all the awful things she'd done and said to him, if only he could find the right words.

So instead, he stopped. His jaw clenched as he stared down into his glass as if he'd find courage there, and he sent a wayward glance her way. "You and I have very different ideas of what 'family' is."

Her perfectly sculpted brows raised lightly. Noticeable more in her eyes than her brows, though, from years of practice at avoiding wrinkles. "Oh?" She adjusted her shawl and stood gracefully. "Who is your family now, sweetheart?" Mock pity twitched her full lips into a pout. "Yasser?"

Avery followed the pointed flick of her eyes out onto the dancefloor where Yasser was busy twirling Bonny while the crowd ate it up.

"Bless your heart," she cooed. "No. He has a real family now. See, that's the difference between friends and family: If you turn your back on your family, they'll be there when you turn around again. But friends?" She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Friends move on."

He drained the last of the dregs from his glass. Then without another word, for fear that his voice would break, he turned around and headed for the exit.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," Mom called after him.

"Hey!" Yasser's voice boomed over the room. "Ave! Avery, where you going, man?"

Avery forced as convincing a smile as he could muster. Took two damn tries to get one that didn't immediately crumble away. Then he turned and waved Yasser dismissively off. "I'm just stepping outside for a second. I'll be right back."

Yasser stopped at the edge of the dance floor. Suspicion narrowed at his dark eyes. For a moment he just stared, like he was literally trying to parse through the subtext in real time, until finally, he shook his head, and paced after Avery. "No."

Avery clenched his teeth through a crack in his façade. "What do you mean, no?"

"You're not going anywhere."

"Of course I'm not going anywhere." Avery coughed out a weak laugh. "You're an asshole, but I'm not leaving on your wedding day."

"You didn't even say hi to me."

"I said hi."

Yasser shook his head as he closed the distance between them. "No, you didn't. I'd remember, because if you'd said hi, I would've been stoked you were finally talking to me again, and I would have hugged the fuck out of you." And with that said, he grabbed Avery by the shoulder and yanked him into a rough-ass bear hug.

Avery grunted through it as the asshole jostled and squeezed him so hard his ribs ached. He bared his teeth and hugged back at first, but his efforts quickly turned to frantic pats. "Okay, okay! Jesus, let go before you shatter all my bones!"

Yasser stopped squeezing, but he didn't let go. Instead, he pressed a big, forceful kiss to Avery's temple and hissed, "I don't know what the wicked witch said to you, baby boy, but you know better than to listen to her."

The words hit harder than the fucking hug. Emotion welled up in his eyes and constricted at his throat. "You ass..."

"You know better," Yasser repeated. "Say it."

"I know better."

"Yeah?"

Avery whacked his shoulder. "Yeah. I fucking know better, now get off me."

Finally, Yasser released him. At least somewhat, but his hands were still all over, forcefully straightening Avery's suit out and smoothing out his quiff. "Okay, good." He offered a lop-sided grin. "Now stop wallowing in self pity and talk to people. Kareem's been trying to get your attention all night."

With a tired, wry snort, Avery shook his head and swept his gaze around the room in search of Yasser's football teammates.

Kareem? Where the hell did that even come from? Avery vaguely remembered hearing Kareem had come out, but they'd never really got along. Kareem worked hard to get where he was. Earned himself that college scholarship the good ol' elbow-grease way. Really, so did Avery, though most of his hard work was done on his knees, and there was a nice little puritan pocket of football players that just didn't fuck with big slut energy.

But if the man wanted to bang, he sure could use a good 20 minute distraction.

But as he searched the room, another pair of eyes caught his instead. Dark, intense, piercing eyes. Even lurking back there in the shadows behind the DJ booth, chatting with Avery's dad, the glint of Hadi's eyes and the sparkle of his imposing and strangely charming smile drew Avery in like a collapsing star.

"He wanted me to chat him up to you... Is that how you say it?" Yasser frowned to himself. "Chat you up? Chat... It's something with chat, right? Like making him sound good?"

Avery shrugged and tore his eyes away from Hadi. A wanton urge to put them right back, to check repeatedly, obsessively, if the man was still looking his way, itched at the base of his spine. "Beats me. I sucked all my grades out of my professors--you think I know what words are? Go ahead. What's your sales pitch?"

Yasser blinked in thought, then shrugged too and held his hands out in front of him, a good distance apart, and announced in that booming voice of his, "You ain't gonna believe this, but believe it, baby. It's this fucking big."

Snorts and chitters echoed around the room, peppered by the frowns of older and more proper guests.

Avery raised his brows playfully in surprise. He let out an impressed, low whistle. "Wow. That's like, what, two feet?"

"Heck yeah, baby boy." Yasser twirled a finger in the air. "And about a mile round, give or take."

Avery laughed. "Really?" He glanced around until he found Kareem--tall, black, and sinewy from a lifetime on football fields and surf boards. The man's cheeks burned with embarrassment as his buddies at his side snickered and muttered to him. "You know, I've been meaning to take up running in the morning."

"Perfect! You can do laps." Yasser flashed a broad grin and called out, "Hey Kareem! I did it! I wing-manned!"

Kareem coughed, glanced nervously Avery's way, before wryly calling back, "Yeah. Thanks. You're the best."

Yasser wrinkled his nose and turned his attention back to Avery. "Aw. I don't think he appreciates it at all." And as Avery nodded in playfully sombre agreement, Yasser's humour sobered to a sincere frown. A silence stretched between them for a few long beats before he sighed and said, "Man, I'm sorry."

And that one word effectively drained what little humour Avery had managed to conjure up too. He inhaled noisily through his nose and scratched at the back of his neck. His gaze lingered on Kareem's adorably bashful face, before getting drawn right back over to Hadi's gaze still glinting at him from the shadows.

"You got nothing to be sorry for."

"I love your sister so fucking much, Ave."

If only he had more wine. Felt like a good moment to swallow a whole bottle like a fucking pelican.

"I know. Fuck me, I know."

"Ave," Yasser repeated more insistently. A pleading edge coloured his voice. "I swear, I never wanted to--"

"Hey, hold on." Avery let out a weak laugh. He grasped Yasser by either side of his big head--since the bastard was so much taller, it was a damn reach--and stared up forcefully into those dark eyes. "Cool your fucking jets, baby. If you want absolution, you got it absolutely, but this is your fucking wedding day. Go. Enjoy it. Stop worrying about me. I am fine."

Yasser sniffled. He lifted his hand to clutch Avery's and hold it in place against his cheek. "I missed you."

Avery snorted softly and playfully tried to tug his hand free. "Shut up."

"I mean it. But fuck you." Yasser let go of his hand finally, only to dotingly go back to tugging at Avery's suit. "Because you should have been my best man, and I want an apology for that bullshit. For me having to ask Kevin."

"You get to nut in my sister. You don't need any apologies from me."

Yasser snorted. "Fine." He pointed in Avery's face. "But that get-out-of-jail-free card is only going to work for so long. And only for little things, like wearing fucking blue vinyl pants to my reception."

Avery scoffed and glanced down at his outfit. "What do you mean? I look cute."

"Oh yeah, you're cute. Getting every gay man in the room walking funny and every straight man so very confused. Surprised you didn't break a finger stuffing your cake into those things."

A grin tugged at Avery's lips and at his quiet laugh, Yasser grinned and laughed too like it was infectious. "Come on, I'm decent. I wore a blazer."

"Uh huh. You mean Bonny saw that lacy thing underneath and forced you to wear a blazer." Yasser spread the sides of Avery's blazer to give him a good, proper look, and shook his head as his grin broadened. "Man."

"What?"

"Nothing. Forget it." Yasser inhaled deeply and redirected his full attention to Avery's gaze. Then, as if he made a decision, he squinted hard and gave the blazer a shove down Avery's shoulders. "Fuck this. Take it off."

Avery barked a surprised laugh. He grabbed his blazer to try to stop him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Off."

"Bonny won't appreciate you ravishing me in front of all her guests, bitch."

"This is my fucking wedding too, and my fucking friends ain't gotta hide who they fucking are." Yasser's voice rose way too easily and stole the attention of what few people nearby weren't already staring at them. "You are an artsy, slutsy twink, Avery. You think I want you to cover up and tone it down on my fucking day? No, bitch. Take it off, or I will find some fucking scissors and make us some snowflake streamers out of that bullshit."

Avery clutched Yasser's wrists. Only reason that worked to stop the behemoth was because Yasser clearly let him. "You're drunk. Go away."

"I am not." Yasser gave the blazer another, emphatic tug. "I'm high."

Avery snorted.

"Yasser!"

They both, in unison, snapped their attention to the dance floor where Bonny stood with daggers in her beautiful blue eyes and pure rage on her pretty flower petal face.

"Shit," Yasser breathed.

"I swear to God--"

"I'm coming, my love," Yasser called back. He gave Avery a wide-eyed insistent look like he was trying to impart an order telepathically, but then he grudgingly smoothed out Avery's blazer and let go. He snapped his fingers at one of his nearby teammates. "Hey Doug, do me a favour. Keep Teresa away from him, will ya?"

Doug, looking and strutting as football-player-like as football players could get, approached with a casual grin and a light, friendly smack to Avery's back. And even gentle, it nearly knocked him off balance. "Roger that!"

With an exhausted glare, Avery sent a scowl Doug's way, then Yasser's. "I don't need a babysitter."

Yasser made a scrunched, thoughtful face. "More of a body guard sitch. Okay, you kids have fun."

And as Yasser headed away, two other football players started making their way over. Because those assholes could never do anything without backup from their bros.

─── ◖ ◌ ◗ ───

Even across the giant event space, the rejection looked brutal.

Avery, Kareem, and their team quarterback, Evan, all hissed sympathetically from where they perched at the edge of a folding table full of finger foods, watching Doug strut along the edge of the dance floor with a lazy, cocky grin. Didn't quite reach his eyes. Charming as the frat boy fuck was, he had enough alcohol in him to put a few kinks in his game face.

He winked at some people he passed. Stopped at another beautiful one of Bonny's university friends, and it took no time at all for the woman to laugh right in his face.

"Oof," Kareem muttered. "This is hard to watch."

"And disappointing," Avery muttered. "I was hoping for a drink in the face, or a slap, or mace or something. This is nothing but cringe."

Kareem laughed. "Sheesh. You know, it's a good thing you're hot"--He glanced sideways at Avery--"because your personality, man..."

Was that supposed to be some kinda neg? Amusement tugged Avery's lips into a half smile. Poor guy. If he wanted to poke holes in the ol' self esteem, there was a petite beauty queen chatting up a rich dude by the stage who could teach him a thing or two.

"Bunch of dykes, huh?" Doug announced as he returned with a lopsided, bitter grin.

Speaking of ugly personalities. Avery sent a pointed look Kareem's way, but the man seemed intent on ignoring it, so instead, Avery pushed away from the table to greet Doug with a pitying tsk. "Oh honey, she's not a dyke, she's a doctor."

"Same diff," Doug said with a pitiful pout.

Avery chuckled and dotingly smoothed out the lapels of Doug's snow-grey suit. "Aw, baby, no. It's really not. Look." He pointed across the room at a couple young women chatting and casually dancing together. "See that redhead? That's Emily, my dad's accountant. Freshly single and desperate for a good rebound. Bring her something with marshmallows in it and she'll love you forever. Or at least for a few hours."

Doug gazed off at the girl for a long, quiet moment, before dismissing the idea with a grunt. "Maybe." He fixed his attention back on Avery. "You don't think I could land a doctor?"

"I have no fucking doubt you can land a doctor." Avery laughed and shook his head. "But probably not while you're drunk and spewing shitty pickup lines in their face. Okay, come on." He tugged Doug along with him as he backed up to the table. "Lick your wounds, have a cocktail weeny, and try again, yeah?"

"Nah, man. Are you crazy? I can't put something phallic in my mouth with you around. You'll get ideas."

Avery coughed out a laugh and stopped. "I will, will I?"

Doug leaned sideways against the table with a loopy grin. "Yeah. Probably got all kinds of them already, don'tcha?" He briefly glanced at the table, just long enough to pick up a steak crostini. He took a big, sloppy bite and crunched on it as his gaze drifted down Avery's body. "Hey, you came alone today too, right?"

Why did the question sound like a trap?

Avery didn't have to hesitate long before a familiar voice called his name.

He turned to find his dad emerging from the dance floor in all his tacky, tie-dye-suit glory. It was crumpled and loose on him, even though he was a good couple inches over six feet, and expanding at the waistline more every day. Looked like an old hippy, but the kind of wealthy where he could get away with it and still have everyone lick his boots.

As he approached, he spread his arms wide to greet Avery with a hug. "There you are! Why didn't you come talk to me?" Dad held Avery out at arms length with a frown.

Avery cleared his throat and shrugged. "Haven't had the chance. Sorry."

"I can tell you why," Doug teased. "You've been chilling with Mr. Nahhas all day."

Dad arched a brow at Doug, then at Avery. "Really? Oh, come on, Ave. He's a nice guy!"

Avery sent a sharp look at Doug, before replying. "Everyone's nice to you, daddy."

"You know why?" Dad pointedly asked.

"Because you're rich," Avery teased. "And manly."

Dad laughed. He playfully flexed. "I mean, that too. But mostly, people are nice to me, because I give them a chance to be." He draped an arm over Avery's shoulders and gave him a light squeeze. "Anyway, I need a live musical act for a little shindig I'm throwing next weekend. Are you working Sunday?"

Avery sighed wistfully. A nice weekend chilling with Dad sounded like the perfect wind-down after all the nightmarish wedding planning Bonny had roped him into. But... "I don't know. Sunday's open Mic night at the--"

"I'm paying."

"I'll be there."

Dad flashed a victorious smile, gave another squeeze, and pulled away with a nod at Doug. "The team's all welcome to come too, of course."