On the Road

On the Road Pt.3

By Seki

POV Mason

"MASON ANDREW SANDERS!" were the strained screams that jolted me awake, sending shivers through my goddamn spine. My eyes barely had time to adjust to the dimness of my room before Sammy, my tour manager, came bursting in, almost breaking the door between us.

"Sammy, what the fuck! Can't you knock like a normal fucking person?!" I barked back, my hungover headache greeting me with the subtlety of a brick to the face, sharp pains running through my entire system all the way to the back of my eyeballs, making my wince.

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THIS BED. LET'S GO!"

"Go? GO WHERE?!" I growled at her.

"BACK TO THE HOTEL, JACKASS!" she yelled, yanking the curtains open, blinding me for the foreseeable future.

The fuck is this bitch on?!

I forced my lids apart a bit, fumbling for my phone, only to feel I wasn't laying in my California king. I was in something much much smaller. I then looked around. This wasn't my hotel room. Hell, this wasn't even a hotel. I was in someone's bedroom.

Fuck.

"Oh..."

Where the fuck am I?

I cleared my throat.

"How did you find me?" I dared to ask her, my voice dropping, realizing my level of fucked.

"TRACK MY PHONE, DIPSHIT. I HAVE IT FOR THE WHOLE BAND, BUT ESPECIALLY FOR YOU!"

I stared at Sammy's furious face, then spotted a blond haired guy standing timidly behind her. His blue eyes gave me a sympathetic look through his frames and that's when it hit me. Last night hit me like a punch to my already sensitive gut.

Fuck. This is his bed...

Before I could even assess what was going on, not to mention the migraine drilling a hole through my skull, Sammy ripped the sheets off of me, exposing my naked ass.

"Hey!!"

"I SAID GET UP! NOW! I HAVE AN UBER WAITING DOWNSTAIRS," her voice did not let up. She was out for blood. My blood. I gulped, my heart pounding out of my chest.

She then looked down at my crotch, which caused me to furrow my brow and look down at myself only to notice a condom still on my dick. She looked at me with her signature bitch face.

"Classy, Mase." I was too fucked to feel shame at this point. She threw my pants at me. "Get dressed, let's go. Sorry about this," she said, turning to the blond guy, who quickly moved from the door to let her pass, probably out of fear like the rest of us. She stormed out of the apartment, cussing at me under her breath.

I looked at blondie, still dazed, my heart finally slowing from the rude awakening. I rubbed my eyes and took a very deep and needed breath. I looked at him again.

I had fucked this guy...

Obviously I fucked him... look at him, he looks just like-

I now felt sick. The last twenty four hours came back to me like a fucking seizure inducing light show. It took all I had to keep myself from puking on this poor guy's floor. I couldn't shake off this guy's resemblance to my roadie... the more than obvious reason I was in his bed.

I slowly got up, yanked the condom off my dick and put my jeans on.

"Washroom is right through there if you need," Blondie kindly informed me with an accent I couldn't quite place. He pointed to the door right outside his room and handed me my shirt. I thanked him but considered just bolting from sheer fear Sam would castrate me if I took too long.

I risked it. I went to take a well needed piss and splashed water on my face. I took an extra few seconds to clean off whatever residue was on my cock and steal a few strokes from the deodorant I spotted on the sink.

Shameless, I know.

As I stepped out, blondie was leaning on his kitchen counter, scrolling on his phone.

"Hey uh... where am I by the way?"

"Vesterbro."

"K can you be like... way less precise?"

"Copenhagen?"

"Right. Okay, I know that one. Listen uh... I'm really sorry about all this. My brain is fried.

Did I... break anything? Do I need to apologize for anything else? Do I owe you money?

He chuckled.

"No, not at all, apart from calling me the wrong name. But after last night, trust me, you can call me

whatever

you want," he simply smiled, eyeing me from head to toe. A first wave of shame finally washed over my entire body. I was well aware how much of a slut I was, but this felt much different. I felt disgusted at myself, not because he was a guy, though that was new territory I wouldn't be acknowledging until much later, but because I'd stooped to picking up a random stranger, just to numb myself from

him

. I had sunk that low in my stupid attempt at avoidance... And sobering up was going to be a bitch. I didn't want to face any of it.

I sighed and waved as he closed the door, my jaw clenching. I didn't even know his name...

Once in the Uber, I thought the scolding would have ended and Sam would now be gracing me with the silent treatment. I was wrong. It kept going. The volume went down though... dangerously so.

"This has to stop, Mason," Sam started. My head pounded, knowing the 'Mason's a fuck up' speech was coming and I sure as hell didn't want to hear it.

"I get all the excess, I really do. I get the excitement from this being you guys's first European tour, I get the late nights, the drunk nights, the coked out of your minds nights, the orgy nights, I get it. Believe me, I've seen it all. But

you

," she inhaled sharply, shaking her head at the window before looking back at me.

Here we go.

"

You,

out of all people, always came back to the hotel, you'd always at least check in with me and you always performed amazingly on stage the next day." Her tone was low, disappointed.

I felt like an eight year old being told off by his mother. I felt small. She was right. The past weeks had been a little bit more than just excess. It had been complete and utter debauchery, and that coming from

me

. Alex sprung to mind again.. I looked out the window at the traffic.

"We still have three more weeks in Europe and I cannot have you this fucked up. Especially not in some foreign country. Who knows what kind of shit you can get yourself into. Remember Denver?"

"Yes ma'am..." I didn't feel like fighting. I was exhausted and I was only just sobering up. But I sat there and took it, every word. Couldn't open my mouth.. How could I? How do you argue when you're the fucking problem...

"I've had to deal with your melodrama since the Europe leg began. Then add in the non stop slew of stupid shit that followed after Amsterdam. Not to mention what happened in Berlin-"

"

He

was being a homophobic piece of shit. And I was gonna break his arm but kicked him off the tour instead," I shot back, turning my head away.

"Ok, well good call on that one. But as for the rest, I will put you in the fucking ground myself if I have to see another one of your fits because of pathetic overcompensation or whatever you guys call your inflated egos."

"I'm sorry, Sam," my voice was faint, discreet, laced with disappointment. It was all getting to me. I couldn't imagine all the other times Sammy had saved my ass without even realizing it and now I had gone and made her reach her limit.

Then Alex... his face flashed behind my lids. He asked for so little, just a shred of common decency, and I still bitched and fucked it all to hell.

Christ...

"I fucked up. It's what I do, okay? I'll... make it up to you. I'll get my shit together..."

"Good. So whatever you did to Alex, fix it. Now. And get back to being a proper frontman for your band and not a man child who can't handle his shit," she huffed. My heart painfully sunk as she spoke his name. I swiftly looked up at her.

"What do you mean, Alex?"

"Oh, Mason please. You may have everyone else in complete darkness and let me tell you it ain't that hard with over a hundred cis straight guys who are drunk half of the time and doped up the other half, but I'm the ever so sober bitch babysitting your asses every night and I see

everything

. You guys are fucking, right?" Her voice was telling, cutting through any bullshit I had planned on making up. I felt a knot in my stomach. I looked at her.

So she knows...

A silver lining is that she didn't seem to give a fuck. I still looked down.

"I could tell shit hit the fan the second we got to Amsterdam. It only got worse after that," she paused to ask the Uber guy if she could smoke. I assumed the driver was terrified of her and said yes. She lit up.

Amsterdam...

A flash of Amsterdam crashed into my mind; visuals of Alex in a towel slamming the door in my face after I had realized he had some other guy in his bed, as if to teach me a lesson. The image was seared into my brain, making my jaw clench so hard it cracked. Then the attempts at distractions that followed; booze, drugs, groupies, sex workers, new drugs, more groupies... in every other city, a new distraction to avoid him at all cost, convinced

he

was the one being overdramatic.

I'm such a fucking idiot...

"If you can actually recall, Amsterdam was twelve days ago. Almost two weeks of you being an even bigger pain in my ass than you usually are. And for what?! Is he that good?!"

You have no idea

, is what I thought of saying but didn't, shutting my eyes again while holding my face.

"Alex is one of the rare ones I can actually count on every

second

of the day. Even after getting into a stupid bar fight and almost getting arrested, he still showed up and did the work of two local guys who cancelled last minute."

"He what?" I asked as my body tensed up, facing Sam. How did I not hear he had been in a fight? Had someone told me and I had just pushed it out of my head? I was getting too good at distracting myself...

"A few nights ago. He's fine, though. Alex was apparently aggressive as fuck. The bouncers had to pull him off Greg," she smiled, as if now understanding why I kicked him off the tour. She seemed to be patting Alex's back in her mind. And even though Sammy said Alex tore into Greg, my blood was boiling, regretting not having sent him to the goddamn hospital myself. I got protective real fast. Dumb mixed feelings that, in the end, boiled down to concern...

"Anyways. Go talk to him. Sort it out. I need you to be better, Mase. Please. If not for yourself, then for me. For

him.

Whoever you need to think of to actually put that shitty fucking ego aside and apologize," Sam sighed, exhausted. With reason. Just look at who she was dealing with. This wasn't advice, this was a command. She knew exactly how to put me in my place and I respected the fuck out of her for it.

"Who's... to say

he

didn't start it?" I tried to lighten the mood but was met with an upgraded version of her resting bitch face.

"Mason please," she rubbed her temples. "It's 8AM. We both know you're full of shit."

Obviously, I was.

She took one last drag of her second smoke as we arrived in front of the hotel. We got out of the car and walked inside, making our way to the elevator.

"Do you know what room he's in?"

"326."

The elevator opened on her floor. My heart was uneasy.

"Hey Sam?"

Before I could even ask, she just smiled at me and gestured her lips sealed then walked off. I calmed down.

I exited on the third floor. I walked through the corridor, a million thoughts rushing through my head. Image upon image of all my fights, mishaps, tantrums, benders, sex crazed nights and drug trips all slammed into me at once.

And before I knew it, I was standing in front of #326. I could still recall the last time I was knocking at his door, obliviously unaware that I wasn't the center of the fucking universe to him. That he was a person, with his own life. And his own agenda. Allowed to fuck whoever he wanted, especially when the guy he was fucking on tour was acting like a first class dipshit, to quote Sam.

I hesitated for a moment, then knocked on the door. I tried to manage my shaky breath and failed. After a few moments, Alex opened the door, yawning. I had to take him in for a second, my heart speeding up again. He was wearing those oh so familiar navy blue boxers and a tank top. I hadn't been in front of him in so long I almost felt like saying nothing and just grabbing him in my arms, but right now I knew better. As he looked at me, sleepiness plastered on his face, I noticed the healing black eye. My heart tightened.

"Did you forget your room number again?" he bluntly said. I missed his sarcasm, but I knew I was here for something a little more serious than banter. "4010..

Fourth

floor. Up." he gestured.

"Ha. ha. Very funny. Can we talk?"

"It's fucking early, man. Where the fuck did Sammy pull you out of?"

Wiseass.

Glimpses of my one night stand flashed back at me... I didn't bring it up.

"You're usually the early bird... I figured you were awake."

"Well you figured wrong. I had a night," he retorted, running his hand through his messy morning curls, yet still held the door open, letting me in.

Alex then walked to the far desk of the room and leaned on it, crossing his arms. I closed the door and walked up to him, keeping a certain distance. Just being in his room hit me with pure nostalgia. A few seconds passed by as I looked around, spotting the familiar chaos that was Alex's room, his subtle scent filling the air, distracting me.

"Well?" Alex said, his tone a bit impatient.

"Just... gimme a minute, okay?" I replied, trying to find my words without sounding like some total chick. He rolled his eyes and sighed, waiting. I took a deep breath and exhaled, looking at his very unimpressed expression.

"I want to say I'm sorry. I genuinely fucked up and my stupid attitude hurt you and you didn't deserve it. For that I'm sorry."

"Cool. Well that was terrible. Thanks for stopping by," retorted Alex, unamused. I clenched my jaw, staring into those stupid disarming blue eyes.

"Are you serious right now?"

"If you're gonna give me the same generic apology you give to every other groupie who's name you forget then yeah, the door's behind you." he spat, biting his lip as if keeping himself from unloading a slew of insults at me.

"You know, the thing I hate more than the homophobic pricks I deal with when I'm on tour trying to do my job is the prick with internalized homophobia who hides it and think it's fine for him to be a dick because hey, I'm fucking a guy, that can't make

me

the jackass. News flash. It makes you worse," he paused. I swallowed hard.

"You crossed a fucking line, Mason. You're lucky I even opened the door."

The look alone he gave was enough to kill me.

"I kicked him off the tour."

"Yeah he told me as he swung a fist at my face."

"How's your eye, by the way?"

"It's fine. Are you done?"

I clenched my fist, almost wanting to punch him myself for making this harder for me. But he was right. Looking at him, how hurt he must have been after my stupid outrage, he was right to call me out. I wanted to make things right. He deserved as much. His pained expression and his black eye calmed me down, and I breathed out again, composing myself. Then let it out. All of it.

"I'm a selfish guy, Alex. I'm greedy. I like having things go my way. I always have. And when you're this famous person, people around you tend to facilitate the behaviour to insane levels. But it doesn't help me grow. It makes me arrogant. It makes me entitled... and childish when things don't go my way." I took a breath, pausing from kicking myself when I was down, but pushed on. I looked down realizing what I was about to say and snickered at myself.

"And I had this completely delusional notion that you needed me more than I needed you."

Alex was actually listening, expressionless.

"My ego usually gets in the way of everything as if I'm so great everyone owes me something just for existing. Plus when I saw you that night with that other guy, it hit me in the face. I am very much replaceable in this scenario. It's not you who needs me. I'm the scared little bitch sneaking around to see this great guy... who's completely free to be himself. A great guy who just so happens to actually like me back for god knows what reason."

"You get points for self-awareness..." Alex uttered, his tone a bit less harsh this time, his face softening.

"A guy who I'm sure has a line of guys just waiting for him to get sick of me and my bullshit. And I envy that about you. You're tough, you're independent, you stand up for yourself." I paused.

"Not to mention... you're hot as fuck and... that... fucking... mouth of yours..." I trailed off, trying desperately to sound more aloof than a sorry excuse of a man trying to get his ex back. Alex inhaled, subtly licking his lower lip.

"You were getting a bit too cheesy there, I'm glad you brought it back." His smile was faint, but it showed nonetheless. I admired it for however short a time it lasted.

"You're a good friend to me, Alex. I want to be a good friend to you too. You're not just some random roadie to me. I hate that I made those stupid jokes. I hate that I felt the need to clarify I wasn't affiliated with you in any way that day. I hate myself for that. I don't want that to be me.

I fucked up and a big part of that comes down to... being scared," I confessed, looking down from embarrassment. "I'm still adjusting to... all of it. I just... I just need more time to feel good in my skin. I don't want you being this secret I keep hidden, but I need to go my own speed. At least for now. Or else I get easily overwhelmed and I-"

"Fuck up."

I nodded. "Yeah..." I looked straight at him. He saw me. I knew he saw me. Alex uncrossed his arms and rested his hands back on the desk, sighing.

"I will not be repeating this behaviour. I promise, okay? I want you to know I have your back, even when you're not in the room. I was a fucking child and I never intended on disrespecting you. I really

am

sorry."

He stared at my vulnerable ass just standing in the middle of his room, begging for any type of response. He gave me a once over, as if carefully wanting to choose his words. Or just making me suffer until he'd ask me to get the fuck out...

"Those are big words, rockstar. And even though I know you can be a fantastic bullshitter when you wanna be..." Alex started, staring straight at me. "I also know that coming from you, that took balls to admit." His smile came back just a bit, my breathing caught in my throat.

"You know I mean it, man."

He contemplated me for a moment, then sighed, nodding. He pushed himself off the desk, one hand hanging on his boxers.

"You like me that much, huh?" he asked faintly, that familiar cocky smile creeping up on his face.

I then took off my jacket and threw it on the bed, looking at him intently. I took off my shirt, slowly, knowing he was watching every inch of my exposed skin.

"You think that sweetens the deal?" he asked, trying to sound cocky. I saw right through it. He was melting.

"Seems to be working," I replied. I got closer to him, contracting my abs a bit before kneeling right in front of him, looking up. His eyes widened a bit, confusion spread across his face.

"Take it out," is all I said.

"Wh...what?"

"I'm not repeating myself."

He stared at me, trying to find the bullshit behind my action. He didn't find any. He slowly pulled out his dick.

"You serious?" he mumbled.

"Dead," I answered as I leaned into his crotch, sticking out my tongue and giving his semi a long hard lick before putting it in my mouth. Hearing him gasp at my touch had me hard within seconds.

I was new at it, I was clumsy but I gave it all I had. And hearing Alex moan again after so long was almost enough to drag fucking tears from my eyes. My heart beat fast at even the thought of him forgiving me. I swallowed my dumb ego like I swallowed my saliva around Alex's cock. I felt like a newb but I kept going. I tried to suck like he sucked, obviously failing at it, but Alex still moaned. I was already hard. I was eager and needy and wanted him but I wanted to do this for him first. My tongue swirled around his head and the length of his shaft, sucking in my cheeks as I could. Feeling him throb on my tongue caused my fucking dick to twitch.