Desire And Duende Ch 02

Dearest reader

This is part two of three. You really need to read

part one

first. Much love to Mykymyk2 and KES for their advice, editing and feedback.

As I said before, there's not a non-binary category on Literotica. Leila is AFAB and prefers female sexual partners. I'm aware there's an implicit gendering going on by putting this in Lesbian Sex and my apologies if that offends.

If you want to, there is a playlist on youtube to accompany this. Search "Desire and Duende" or check my profile.

Happy reading!

T x

Cartagena: day eleven

Idly plucking my acoustic, I sit on the edge of the stage, my bare legs hanging over it, looking out over the nearly empty auditorium. The bright house lights are up and high-vis jacket-wearing employees are sweeping up the detritus of the evening.

I can't even remember the name of this place.

I hear footsteps behind me and then Nadine sits down on the stage next to me.

Neither of us speaks for a bit.

"Everything ready to go?" I ask.

"Yeah, nearly." She sighs. "Look, Leila fam, trust me when I say I didn't invite her along for you?"

I side-eye her. "Good. Because that would have been stupid and insulting."

"Yeah, well I didn't, truth. I ain't no pimp. But you know Kate thinks she's in the closet, right?"

"Yeah, she said." I didn't believe her. My gaydar had got nothing. "Anyway, non-binary isn't the same." There's a little heat in my response. Yeah, so I've got tits and a vagina, and happen to be showing my legs right now (too hot for trousers this far south). But that doesn't mean I want to be always seen that way.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have put it like that."

It had almost been funny on the bus when she realised everyone there apart from me was in a relationship, and most were not hetero couples. Almost funny, because by then she had indeed clocked my tits and lack of cock. I'd been too slow getting ready in the morning, and she arrived much earlier than we'd expected, and I was still in my small sleep t-shirt and boy shorts. It was pretty obvious what I was and wasn't hiding. I swear if the bus hadn't already been moving she might have gotten straight off. I was pleased my Spanish was shit given the torrent of abuse that had poured forth from her.

She has still barely spoken a word to me, though she had eventually relaxed around the others, joining them for games of cards or Mario Kart. I surrendered the space, and spent most of the journey lying on my bunk reading, or else watching the corn fields of Castilla turn into the olive groves of Jaén, the silver-green trees studding the brown, round hills like cloves in a Christmas orange.

I pause. Let my annoyance show.

When I speak, I don't bother to hide the hurt in my voice. "So is that why you invited her? Give Kate a chance to even the score?"

"No, not really," Nadine shakes her head, "I invited her because she adds something to the show. But also I invited her for her, you know? Give her a chance. Pay it forward. But showing her what lesbian couples look like can't hurt, you get me?"

"Oh, so you did hope to get her to come out? I think you're on a hiding to nothing there."

Nadine sighs. "It wasn't easy for me to come out. I really thought I was going to lose my whole family, for real. It took having friends like Priya and Kate and Jenny and Tom, and you, Yuki and Sam, to make me feel like I could, that I would still have a family of sorts even if, you know, it hadn't turned out well. You get me?"

She's silent for a moment. Yeah, I remember that tour. Mel being clueless, completely deaf to all the hints Nadine was dropping.

"Was it easy for you? Coming out?" she asks.

"Fuck no."

"Yeah. Your family is Muslim, right?"

"Name only really. Though we eat halal. My parents aren't that observant. Still, didn't thrill them to have a queer child."

"Yeah. Well, it's going to be the same for her, trust. She's a gitana, Cristina is. Kate was telling me that they've been persecuted for nearly their entire existence, for real. Somebody she worked with studied them or something. You know what happens when minorities get persecuted?"

I nod, but she carries on anyway. "They get more insular, more conservative. She'd be cast out for being with a non-gypsy, let alone another woman, you get me? I'm trying to give her a way out if she wants to take it."

"And what about me?" I snarl back. "Do my feelings not figure in this at all?"

"Feelings?" Nadine sounds surprised. "Sorry, that wasn't fair." She sighs. "I'm sorry, I should have checked with you, but I didn't know, trust. I didn't know you'd already, you know, got somewhere with her, you get me? I also didn't realise that she hadn't understood your, er, assignment at birth."

She reaches over and pats my shoulder. "I didn't invite her to try to play match-maker, trust. I invited her for her, for real. Okay?"

"Okay." I puff out my cheeks and exhale. "Yeah. Thanks Nadine, I'm glad you told me. I was feeling a bit pissed off with you, but... well, no I'm still pissed off, but now I get that you weren't meddling exactly. I'll get over it."

"Give it time. I think so will she."

"I won't hold my breath."

"Come on. We're going to drive overnight to Alicante - give us the day at the beach. Weather's meant to be good. Besides," she continues as I follow her to the bus, "I've got a plan for tomorrow. We're going to show Cristina something."

"What?"

"We're going to show her what love can look like, for real. Or rather, Kate and Priya are."

* * *

Alicante: day twelve

Cristina is a whirl of skirts and shoes as "Smash" comes crashing to its crescendo. As Yuki slams the cymbals one last time, she strikes a pose, her chest heaving. She's majestic, defiant and yet, weirdly, still seems so insecure. The raucous applause isn't just for her of course, but it is loud and her shy smile is so endearing.

Luckily, nobody is looking at me: I bet I'm drooling. I shake myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Cristina Moreno, ladies and gentlemen." Nadine shouts out, gesturing to her.

Cristina's smile spreads as the applause swells again, and she makes a stiff bow, hand on heart. As she straightens, she blows kisses to the crowd. Somehow, in her long skirt and long-sleeved bolero, she looks sexier now than she did in her brand-new bikini on the beach earlier. And she was scorching then.

Sam and Yuki put down their instruments and walk off stage, beckoning for her to follow. She looks puzzled, but follows them.

"Ok, we're going to slow things down a bit now."

"Un poco más lento ahora," Priya translates.

Nadine nods to me, then to Priya, who has put down her cello and moved to the front of the stage.

I moisten my lips, then put them to my trumpet. If you didn't know what I was playing, you'd never guess, and even if you did, it would be hard to spot it. I'm messing with the melody and tempo so much. It's slow, it's low, it's mournful and it's all kinds of blue.

Opening my eyes, I watch Priya shift in sync with my improvisation. I don't really know much about dancing, but that girl can move. She's effortless and sensual. She told me that she took lessons in classical Indian dancing for years, but I don't really see that in her lyrical movements. Rather than jerky, they are easy and expressive, and oh so gorgeous.

Not for the first time, I feel a searing envy of Kate. Usually it's a yearning for what she and Priya have together, but now I realise I'm just jealous of who Kate has.

She's gorgeous.

As my eyes and notes follow her fluid flow across the floor, she comes between me and Cristina. Our eyes meet and I see anger in them.

Ah. Am I being that obvious?

Well, a little jealousy might help.

Nadine steps forward into my sightline and taking that as my cue, I fade out my trumpet as she starts to sing.

Clock strikes upon the hour

And the sun begins to fade

Nadine maintains the tempo I set as she sings a´cappella and Priya still moves with a lonely passion.

I've done alright up 'till now

It's the light of day that shows me how

As Nadine croons the verse, Priya's desperation grows, her moves wilder, her yearning made more obvious. She's so expressive, I can read this dance.

Then, just before the chorus hits, Kate steps on stage and Priya spins into her arms.

Nadine's voice soars as they sway together, legs in lockstep.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

Cheers and whistles are coming from the crowd. Now Nadine compresses the rhythm and builds the pace.

I've been in love and lost my senses

Spinning through the town

Kate and Priya whirl about the stage, to a beat only barely suggested by Nadine's phrasing, but it's like they are in their own world. Their eyes never leave each other's, Priya's head snapping round when Kate spins her, their bodies seemingly sharing the smallest possible space.

I need someone who'll take the chance

On a love that burns hot enough to last

Kate half-spins Priya, pressing her front into her smaller girlfriend's back. Priya's arm snakes up behind Kate's head, pulling it closer as she grinds back into her, their eyes burning into one another, their parted mouths millimetres away.

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Priya spins back, pressing herself into Kate, who grabs her raised leg and drags her girlfriend, tango-style across the stage. It's fucking hot: my pulse is rocketing.

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

As they pass in front of Cristina, I watch her face track them as they slide past, her expression an odd mix of confusion, admiration and longing.

With somebody who loves me

Nadine explodes into a melisma and I clock Mel next to Cristina, filming.

Yuki smacks the drums and the deep growl of Sam's bass shudders to life. Oh, shit, yeah, I need to come in now.

Stamping on my pedal, I bend the strings to follow Nadine as she goes full Whitney on a rerun of the chorus. My fingers fly down the high E string.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

Prince mode: unlocked.

If before my lone trumpet was mostly melancholy, this is unbridled joy. I throw myself into a ridiculous, over-the-top showboating session, playing with my whole body behind my hands.

Sam and Yuki maintain a heavy, almost ponderous groove, while my guitar wails hyperbolically. Nadine is giving it some, properly emoting. Priya and Kate are a blur. This is fucking magical. The crowd is going apeshit.

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

Shredding like a teenager, I dance my fingers down the neck, interspersing with tapping. Nadine's instructions were the purple one meets Ichikta Niko. I hear and I obey.

With somebody who luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvs

As per instruction, the rhythm section and I cut out as she holds the note. She rarely does this, even though she can - hit a real money note. Maybe she should more often.

Me.

The final word drops like a tear. When it lands, the splash of sound from the crowd is incredible, a veritable wave of noise. I hope Melissa caught all of that. I look over toward her, see her mile-wide grin, and then of course my eyes run over Cristina too.

Her eyes are shining, her hands clutched to her heaving chest. But she's not looking at Nadine. She's not looking at Kate and Priya.

She's staring at me.

Hope springs eternal.

"Priya Patel and Kate Summers ladies and gentlemen."

The two breathless performers link hands and bow, then Priya kisses her lover hard, which leads to another spike in sound, before dragging Kate off stage. No guesses what they are off to do. We've got four more songs before "Morning" will close the set, so I guess they've time.

"On guitar, Leila Halimi!"

I take a bow as the applause continues.

"On bass, Sam Milton!"

More cheers.

"On drums, Yuki Tanaki." Yuki rings the cymbals as the crowd claps.

"I'm Ms Nadine. And we can't stand for this!"

Her own guitar once more slung over her shoulder, Nadine strikes the opening chord for her protest song.

The set continues. Cristina rejoins us on stage for "Skins" and there is lots of eye contact between us. Her feelings are fully on display.

Then a surprise.

We're halfway through Nadine's newish one, "Desire", when Cristina grabs Priya's backing vocal mic and starts singing.

She's singing a perfect harmony line, higher than Nadine and slightly raw, but it sounds great. Yet she's not singing the lyrics. She's singing in Spanish.

From where I am, I can't see Nadine's expression, but there's no change in her stance or singing. Consummate professional that she is, she just carries on.

I've no idea what Cristina's singing, but she is staring straight at me, before she closes her eyes and loses herself in the music.

I'm playing a lead line on this one, while Nadine strums chords, but I start adding flamenco stylings that suit Cristina's vocals.

Nadine turns to us all, and makes a little circular gesture with her hand, before starting on the final chorus again. I look to Sam, who shrugs, so we follow our leader. Cristina's voice rises higher and louder, Nadine crescendoing with her, their voices intertwining, competing. There's an edge of desperation which matches the mood of the lyrics.

I want you, I need you, to feel you, to keep you,

Desire demanding I question all I held true,

My nights so wakeful when I am not beside you,

No one can deny the desire between us two.

Eventually the chorus ends and I expect Nadine to end too, but her fingers fly, pulling out the lead line. She's repeating the first line of the chorus -

I want you, I need you, to feel you, to keep you -

over and over and over.

We know her. We take our cue.

Sam's bass throbs; Yuki drops in extra off-beats and double kicks. I up the quotient of flamenco licks.

And Cristina just loses her shit.

She's kneeling, keening on the floor now, the microphone clutched in one hand as she smacks her chest with the other, like she's at some funeral. I try to catch her words, but, although she's enunciating clearly I have no idea what it means.

What I do know is that it scans perfectly onto Nadine's lyrics. It even fucking rhymes.

I've got chills.

Eventually, Nadine starts strumming and lifting her guitar, and we crescendo with her, unlocking Stadium Rock mode for twenty seconds of noodling and furious cymbal splashes. Some of it must cut through to whatever trance Cristina had entered as she sustains a final note as the screams and cheers and whistles of the crowd try to drown us out.

As we end, our furious cacophony is replaced by an even louder one. They must be stomping on the floor as well as clapping.

Nadine walks over and offers Cristina a hand to help her up, then brings her to the front to bow. The noise just increases.

"Cristina Moreno, la Latina!"

Whistles and cheers and I can feel my eyes pricking.

What a fucking glorious moment. I hope to God Joe recorded that.

The crowd starts to quieten and Nadine launches into "Talk to me", which ups the volume again. This is always a crowd pleaser. I glance to the wings. Priya's meant to be playing on this, though it won't matter too much that she isn't. She'd better be back for "Morning" though.

We're tight and sounding good, but after the epic fireworks of "Desire" it does feel somewhat... not flat exactly, just... ordinary?

The audience doesn't seem to care.

We segue straight into "Sing me a song", which has the audience singing back to us and, again, Cristina takes the mic.

I can't tell exactly what she's singing, but part of the audience seems to pick up her lyrics. She has the widest smile on her as she starts conducting the crowd.

At the end, she and Nadine share a hug, before she blows more kisses to the crowd. I silently will her to look at me, but she doesn't.

And why should she?

"Okay. This is our last song. You might know it from Netflix." That brings some shrill screams from the crowd.

"It's called "Morning" and for this, I want to welcome Priya Patel back to the stage. She was my co-writer for this, coming up with the cello part, and any moment now she's going to come back on stage, probably from wherever she's been coming from..."

Sam catches my eye and we both laugh as Nadine continues to ad lib over Priya's absence, adding further innuendo.

"...I hoped she'd get a head start to get back here, because right now she's going down in my estimation, trust. Ah here she is, well better you come late than not at all babe..."

A very dishevelled looking Priya dashes onstage, still adjusting her clothing, her hair a total mess. She's still stunning though. The audience loves it. Then she's in position, her cello once more between her thighs, and we begin.

Of course it goes down a storm and Nadine has the whole audience singing along a wordless refrain at the end. They'll be singing that all the way home I imagine.

We take our bow, high five each other off stage, though Cristina won't meet my eye. Then we're back out for a double encore, "Revolution 2.0" and "Faster". The crowd goes nuts.

Finally, the house lights go up and it's time to go. Nadine will be down in the front signing autographs, Mel will be heading to the merch table, so there's no rush to pack away. I want a drink first anyway.

I find a rather sheepish looking Priya and Kate in the Green Room.

"Girls, you were on fire! That was amazing," I say as I grab a beer.

"Thanks Leila. The whole gig was great though, wasn't it?"

Sam and Yuki follow me in and add their congratulations. We're all kind of expecting Cristina to come in too, but she doesn't.

Damn.

"That was quite something, wasn't it, what Cristina did?" Sam begins, to a round of nods and uh-huhs.

"Yeah! Can you imagine one of us trying to improvise like that mid-set? Nadine would go mental at us!" I say.

Sam and Priya look doubtful, while Yuki springs to Cristina and Nadine's defence. "She wouldn't if we made up something as sick as that. I swear my hairs stood on end."

And then we're dissecting how well it worked and wondering whether it might become a permanent part of the song. It's a new one, and she hasn't recorded more than a demo version yet, so it could develop that way.

"What was she singing, anyway? Anyone know?" I ask.

Yuki and Sam shake their heads. They've got as little Spanish as I do.

Priya clears her throat. "Um, yeah. I need to check, but I think she was singing:

Yo no quiero pero yo te quiero

."

There's a little silence. I think I know what that means. My heart doesn't know whether to rise or sink.

"Okay. So what does that mean?" Yuki asks.

"Ummm. Well,

quiero

has a lot of meanings. It can mean "I like" or "I want" or "I love". So, I think it could be translated as:

I don't like it but I want you

."

The silence is a bit longer this time. I take a swig of my beer.

"Right." I say at last. "This place has got showers right? I think I might grab one now, if that's okay. I'll just go pack away my pedals and stuff."

Priya starts to step forward to put a hand on me, but I don't want her pity and leave quickly.

As I unplug my pedals, I have a strong sense of deja vu. I've been here before, on tour and in the midst of a romantic crisis; except then I was looking on. Turning my head, I spy a tearful looking Cristina being consoled by Mel. It tears at me. I want to just wrap her up and care for her.

But she doesn't want to want me.

I blink back my own tears and start packing away.

Footsteps behind. It's Kate.

"Hey. Need some help?"