"No, I tried to make it quick... let's go," I replied, to change the subject.
"Yeah!"
---
The whole month of July went by in a flash. We played gigs several times a week, attracting an even larger following, worked on our songs as often as possible and met with the record company.
Rob's father agreed to talk to them for us if it was necessary. He had agreed to act sort of like a manager for as long as we didn't have one. He was a great man, just looking at him, I knew who Robbie had inherited his charisma from. He was so funny and did one-man shows in pubs, or small theaters in his free time.
He had discussed our situation with the label and it was decided that we would start recording our first album but also start College in October. Therefore, we enrolled in Trinity College in Dublin but it was more to make our parents happy. They didn't want the band to take over any academic thing. I guess they didn't want us to be too disappointed if things didn't go as planned. They saw the band as a hobby, and didn't want it to monopolize too much of our time. They wanted us to go to College to have some kind of academic background in case we'd fall flat on our faces.
Although the A&R team at BMG had told Rob's father that we were a band with great potential and they had faith in our ability to 'make it' as they'd say they especially wanted us to perform live as much as possible because it was our strength and it was the best way to attract journalists, to get critiques in music magazines and to be taken seriously.
They wanted us to work and improve our best songs with professionals. They had big hopes for three songs, which they believed would work very well to start promoting the band to a targeted audience, which would be 18 to 30 year olds, male and female, who listened to rock.
They had signed us for two albums and we were going to start recording these three songs in the studio at the beginning of August. They were putting a lot of pressure on us. We knew we were damn lucky here. I was sure it did not happen this easily for over 90% of the bands out there. Everything was happening at astonishing speed for us.
It was late July, we were lying in bed after having done nothing but write music and have sex all day in my bedroom, my parents being away in France, for the first time, without me. With what was happening between us, we felt inspired all the time and the music just kept flowing. The sun had already started to rise by the time we settled down to sleep.
We were sweaty and exhausted, having both cum for the third time in a few short hours. Our first fuck had been absolutely amazing and had been triggered by lyrics we had written and then me telling him that I loved him.
"Move onto your back," he told me while we were having sex.
Obeying him, I pulled out of him. I rolled and he straddled my cock, facing toward my feet. I grabbed the base of my cock and he lowered himself down onto it, making us both moan softly the entire time.
Then he began to rock back and forth and I watched my cock slide in and out of his ass, loving the view.
"Oh yeah, right there, fuck, fuck," he panted and I saw the muscles in his back twitch as he stroked his own cock.
Then he laid against me until his back was resting on my chest. He bent his knees slightly on either side of me and began fucking himself on my cock. The extreme body contact was driving me so wild that I had to grip his hand tight.
"Oh yeah, oh yeah," he moaned. His other hand reached above him until it was grasping me behind my head. I stared at the bulge of his bicep and inhaled his scent that still turned me on so fucking much. I enjoyed the feeling of his weight on top of me as I cupped his pec and rolled his nipple between my fingers.
"Oh, Rob, fuck!" I gasped as he continued to fuck himself hard against me.
"You gonna blow?" he panted.
"Yeah," I moaned, feeling my climax come closer and closer.
"Do it," he responded. He started working my cock even faster and I could feel him quicken the pace on his own cock. My need to cum was so overwhelming that I was practically whining as I felt my balls tighten in preparation for my orgasm and my cock started tingling.
"Ohhh yeah," I moaned as I felt the cum shooting out of me, feeling like it wasn't going to end any time soon.
Rob groaned and I felt his ass tighten around my cock before he began to cum as well.
"Oh, Fuck, Mark," he whimpered as his jizz ripped out of him.
I looked over his shoulder to see the first load pumping out of him and hitting him on the shoulders, and even on his face. He continued pumping his cock and moaning until his chest was covered in cum. The jizz on his shoulder dripped off of him and landed on my chest.
Slowly, he stopped moaning and rocking himself on my cock.
"Oh, man!" he sighed, releasing the grip he had kept on my head, "That was so good, so fucking good. You're the best!"
----
Now here we were, a few hours later, having done it again.
I rolled off Rob, and he slowly lowered his legs back down onto the bed. I saw him wince a bit as he turned on his side to face me.
"You ok?" I asked as I wiped the cum I had shot all over his stomach with a towel.
"Yeah," he answered. "I guess that's just what I get for being such a hungry bottom."
It was the first time he had ever used the word when we were together. I didn't like it. Not because of the word, but because it was a reminder that he was always giving himself to me and I wasn't giving myself to him.
"We probably shouldn't do that twice in a row like that," I said, feeling bad now that the moment had passed. I shifted one hand under, and one hand over him, kissing his lips. I brought my hand down to his ass and massaged his cheeks. He smiled at me and closed his eyes. I brought a finger to his hole, which was still open and slick with lube. I traced my finger along the outside of his anus, hoping it would soothe him.
"You're gonna get me all worked up again," he said quietly.
I wanted to ask him why he loved bottoming with me so much when it wasn't something he had ever done with the guys he'd been with before but I could tell he was drifting off to sleep. For now, I was content to go to sleep as well but I knew I would soon have to grow a pair and reciprocate.
Indeed, since Rachel had left on holidays, we'd had sex every day, sometimes several times a day, but he had never fucked me. He had played with my ass, massaged my prostate and given me as much pleasure as he could but he had never taken it further, never even asked if he could fuck me and I didn't really offer.
He was always willing to let me do him and I could see how much he enjoyed it. We hadn't fucked every time we'd been together, but when we had, he'd always acted first. He'd lube up my cock or tell me he wanted to feel me in him. I always made sure he came as hard as he possibly could, spending him, fucking him hard, gently, fast, lovingly, slowly, however he wanted it, but deep down, I knew that it wasn't enough and that I needed to give him more than that. I knew that he didn't want to make me do anything that I was uncomfortable with and I loved him even more for it. He was taking things slow to make sure that I'd want to do it again - to make sure that I'd like it. He was right, I still didn't feel super comfortable with the idea of bottoming and I absolutely loved being on top... but so did he and I felt bad for denying him the pleasure.
----
It was now mid-August. Rachel was back and I had just been with her. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. What was I supposed to do? Tell her as soon as she got back,
"Hey, I've been fucking Rob for a month while you were away so now, I'm gay. See ya, this was fun..."?
I mean, it couldn't hurt her like this. I loved her. She wasn't just my girlfriend, she was one of my best friends too. I was so confused and tormented, I just didn't know what to do, whatever I'd decide, I'd end up hurting one of the people I loved the most in the world.
Rob understood why I still hadn't broken up with her. He had even said that he didn't care if I continued to have sex with her as long as we could still be together once in a while, but I knew he was lying. He wanted us to be more than just fuck buddies and he kept avoiding Rachel as much as possible, to not have to see me with her.
For a couple of weeks, I behaved like a complete asshole and had sex with both of them. Although we were so busy with the band that I did manage to not be alone with Rachel that much and we'd only had sex twice.
"Alright, I'll be home soon," Rachel said to her mother over the phone as she sat down next to me. We were hanging out with Jordan, Dylan and a couple of other friends on a Sunday afternoon.
"My mum's making her famous Sunday carvery so you're invited over for dinner. You can come, can't you?" she asked me as she sat back down next to me.
Before answering, I looked over at Rob for a brief moment. He was playing cards with a friend of ours but he'd heard.
"Sure," I nodded and Rob turned around to look at us. He didn't let anything on but I could tell he would have prefered me to go home with him, or at least to not leave and stay at Jordan's.
"Why aren't we invited too?" Jordan joked. "I love your mum's carvery."
"Cause I'm not dating you," she shot back.
"You wish," he teased her, which he would always do.
"I'm out of your league Jord, get over it, I've got the looks AND the brains," she shot back and I laughed.
Rachel would always put him back in his place in a smart way. She was probably the only girl who was not falling for Jordan's womanizing ways. Maybe just because she saw him more as a brother than a potential boyfriend. She was so right though, Jordan tended to go for hot but dumb girls, whom he could easily manipulate and Rachel was from from dumb. She was very intelligent, super artistic and so pretty, which I loved about her.
So here I was, hanging out with her after dinner. We mucked around, we laughed, we listened to music, we talked about our friends, about the band, about some of the drawings she had recently created using only lines and when the moment came and we began making out, the best I could say was that I wasn't into it. I tried and we did have sex but I could tell that she noticed something was off with me. I found an excuse to go home shortly after it was over, feeling miserable.
I didn't go over to Rob's that night. I couldn't. I felt too overwhelmed with what was going on in my love life and I needed some alone time to figure things out in own head. All that I knew was that I had to make a decision and be true to myself.
I lay on my bed for a long time as I tried to figure out what I was going to do and then, I realized, the only thing that could help me feel better at that point was to lose myself in music and write. So that's what I did. My parents were back from France and my dad didn't want me to play in the house in the evening, but at that moment, I didn't give a shit.
All I had was an old acoustic guitar, all of our other instruments being either at Rob's or at Damon's. I began strumming the guitar. I wasn't really thinking about anything or anyone. I tuned it differently several times. It lasted for long moments before a melody started to emerge and then the magic happened. The song seemed to just write itself. I mean, I knew I was there, writing it, but it felt like it came from above and it felt amazing.
As I began thinking of lyrics all I could think about was Rob. It became evident as soon as I wrote the first few ideas down that I was going to write a song
for
him. Again, lyrics came pouring out of me and by the end, it felt like the song was my way of telling Rob how my whole life had changed because of him, for him, for us.
It was 2am when I finally put down the guitar and notepads and went to bed, at peace with myself.
The next day, I went home with Rob after having spent a few hours working on our music with Damon, Jordan and Dylan. As we were chilling in his room, I started playing the melody.
"I wrote a song last night," I said.
"You did?" he asked, surprised.
I didn't look up at him, just softly strummed the guitar as I said,
"Yeah, in two hours it was done. It sort of wrote itself really. It felt incredible. I love it when that happens."
"What's it about?" he asked me, sitting next to me on the floor. We were both resting our backs on the end of the bed.
"Well... you, mainly. Just trying not to make it too obvious though," I said softly, looking up at his gorgeous face.
"Me?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah. I've been writing a few songs about you lately." I admitted. They weren't really full written songs, just lyrics and tabs scribbled here and there whenever I thought of him.
He smiled broadly. "You wanna sing it to me?" he asked, knowing very well that I might not want to do that.
"I dunno, I don't like doing that," I smiled self-consciously, I've never been a show-off type of guy.
"Come on," he begged. "Just pretend I'm not here."
I hesitated but the pleading look in his eyes soon made me cave,
"Alright!" I agreed reluctantly, but added as I looked into his eyes, "don't say anything!"
"I'm not even here!" he joked, pushing himself up from the floor; he laid on the bed, his head not far from my shoulder, looking at the ceiling.'
I laughed,
"Ok, here goes," and I started playing again. The main lyrics went like this,
Look at the stars,
