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He sat on the bed, his head in his hands, crying - but he made no sound. The tears fell slowly down his soft, young cheeks and onto his black jeans. He sat alone in his sadness, separated from the world.
He closed his blue eyes as more drops slid out and dripped onto the comforter beneath him. He felt tired. Drained.
…Disappointing.
He felt that nothing he did was right. When he had left his old band, the members, his FRIENDS, had resented him for a while. When he joined this new band as an emergency replacement, they had welcomed him gratefully at first. But as things were starting to settle, he’d had his first taste of the “band hierarchy” as he had come out of the recording room the previous day, causing him to be in the depressive state that carried over to the next morning.
“You cunt, why can’t you do anything right? That was Godawful, and nothing like what I told you to do!”
David had taken it all quietly, patiently, and barely said another word for the rest of the time he was in the studio. When he had arrived at last to the bachelor pad he shared with three others, he had simply gone to his room and locked the door. He spent the rest of the evening working endlessly on his white telecaster to perfect his sound in order to please his band until he had fallen asleep with the guitar on his chest. And now today, he had woken up with a terrible feeling in his heart, one that pulled him down until he could hardly feel the motivation to do anything at all past getting dressed for the day. Thoughts whirled around inside his head as he slowly lay down on the mattress and looked tearfully out the window at the waving green tree painted in front of a bright sky. You love sunshine his mind told him, but he couldn’t feel the same joy he usually did. This crippling unhappiness kept him from feeling anything else. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrestled with the concept of leaving. It wasn’t too late to tell the rest of the band that he was having second thoughts; besides, they were good enough that they could surely find someone else without too much difficulty. They had found him in no time, hadn’t they? Guitarists like himself must be pretty expendable…
~~~
David woke with a start, his eyes having trouble opening for the dried salt that had crusted in them and all on his cheeks; he must have cried himself to sleep without even realizing it. He rubbed his face clean with his fingers and heard someone knocking at his door, causing him to jump; he quickly deduced that that was why he must have awoken and he sat up on the bed, straightening his clothes. “Come in,” he called, wondering who it could be. He knew none of his housemates would have the etiquette to knock.
David was surprised to see the door open to Richard, one of his new bandmates, and he watched with curiosity as the man softly closed the door behind him. He stood still now and smiled gently at the guitarist.
“Hello,” he said in his kind voice; David was instantly calmed by it. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve stopped by, I was just worried about you since you didn’t come in to record today. I asked one of your friends if you were home, and I decided to come by to see if everything was alright.”
David nodded and crossed his legs on the bed, then invited his guest to come take a seat at the end across from him. Richard sat down politely and hung his black hat on the bedpost.
“Rather sorry about yesterday, Roger was quite an arse…”
David nodded as he cast his eyes down. Said bassist had really issued his self-respect a tremendous blow.
Richard continued to look at him. “Don’t take it too hard, I know he’s got good intentions. He just isn’t sure how to get them across properly.”
“I know…” David sighed. “I just…” He looked up to see if it were alright to continue, uneasy about how much he was allowed to say. Richard gave him a nod.
“I just feel like everything that I do… everything I want to contribute to the band – and really, I do – I just feel as if… well, as if it isn’t good enough. For him, or the band… or anything.”
Richard listened with patient ears. “That isn’t true. You play wonderfully.”
David bowed his head in defeat but still managed a small smile. “You’re kind, but it doesn’t help me feel any less useless… I try and I try to talk with him, to work things out. You’ve seen me. What am I doing wrong, Rick? It’s like he doesn’t even want me here, but you asked me to join. It’s like having a row with a brick wall. …I can’t get anything across to that… that… that wanker!”
He was astonished at his own emotionally charged words and he looked up at Richard, embarrassed, but the keyboardist was now staring into space as he thought deeply about his friend’s plight.
“Well, perhaps you should prove to him somehow that you are up to it. He’s still arsed about Syd going and all: he just needs a little time, I think. Show him what you can do.”
“What can I do?”
“Well, you’re quite talented, you’re friendly, charming, attractive…”
He suddenly blushed and realized David was looking at him then. He met his gaze and stared into the irises in front of him, mesmerized at their clarity. They held a touch of youth in them, an impish look not very unlike the one formerly present in their previous guitarist’s own eyes. They sparkled with life and light and laughter that waited to be released, and he felt a dull urge to try.
Richard finally broke his gaze away and fiddled with his jacket buttons. His heart pounded with unease but somewhere in his mind, he hoped that the young man just over twenty-one had noticed the longing look he had tried to give him through his own blue eyes.
David sat for another minute or two, thinking about what advice he had just received. Suppose he tried writing a song for the new album? That would stick it to Roger, wouldn’t it? He’d put him down, that egotistical horror. I’ll show him, he thought defiantly to himself, eyes narrowing from where his face was hidden behind his short tresses. I’ll write better songs than him. I’ll write the best song he’s ever heard! He won’t do what he did to me yesterday ever again. Just you wait, Roger, I’m-
The defiant motivation that was working up in his head was cut off suddenly as a soft, long-fingered hand gently came in contact with his cheek and turned his face up, and there was suddenly a pair of lips being pressed to his as his anger softened and he found himself relishing the kiss that was pushed upon him.
But he suddenly shied away and saw Richard on the bed in front of him, looking sheepishly into his eyes. David looked back at him, a bit shocked, his mouth slightly open and his breathing heavier than it was before.
“R- wha-”
Richard pulled back and bent his head in shame as he once again fiddled with his fingers. He sighed at the floor before he looked up at his friend again, who hadn’t moved.
They didn’t need to speak. The silence crushed them as it did. But Richard realized from the new expression on David’s face that what he had done was actually one of the best things he could do for his friend, as he could read that he desperately needed some show of kindness from somebody after the painful encounter he had had yesterday – even if it was only temporary; but David didn’t mind.
He unfolded his legs and crawled carefully over to the keyboardist, stood up on his knees, and looked down at him, smiling for the first time since yesterday’s events, and cupped both hands around Richard’s cheeks. Richard smiled back up and David dipped his head, closing his eyes as he gently brought his lips to the sweet mouth. He wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and pressed his body closer, grateful to feel arms come slowly around his waist and hold him tenderly but firmly. It felt so good to be cared about and held this way. Lovingly, desirably…
Richard softly pulled him down onto the mattress and rolled over top of him as he continued to kiss. David moaned quietly into his mouth, unable to keep his hands from gripping the soft cotton shirt and tugging on it to encourage him for more. His fingers gradually wove themselves into the keyboardist’s dirty blonde hair as he continued to increase his passion. His heart began pounding and he felt himself becoming more and more pleasured, to the point of arousal.
He broke off their heated actions only for a moment to allow his breath to catch up, realizing he was quite hard. He felt hot in his clothes and he could feel the flush deepening on his cheeks. He saw Richard was breathless as well, and he longed to feel his warm skin against his. The sudden thought startled him yet fueled his erection further as he nurtured the idea; then he came to realize that Richard was hard too.
He felt daring and high on lust, so in an act of fervor he brought one hand down to his hips. His bandmate met eyes with David, and seeing no command to stop, the young guitarist went further and slowly moved his fingers to the enlarged area. It was at that moment that he suddenly began to feel overwhelmed and found his grip to be shaky and weak, despite the adrenaline surge that preceded his actions. He feared backing down in such a moment of strong passion.
Richard sighed and rested his head down on David’s shoulder, still straddling his body. David felt the similar hesitations in his body as his fingers gently caressed the shape that came through Richard’s rather tight pants, and so he backed off. He tilted his head to the side and nuzzled his face into the fluffy hair, rubbing his nose into the golden, dark blonde, and brown strands. His eyes closed at the touch of a grateful and understanding hand that met his cheek once more, and placid kisses reassured him that this was all he wanted right now. This was everything he needed. Richard was everything he needed: now, and, he was certain, for a very long time to come.
~~~
“…Rick?”
Richard lifted his head and looked into David’s soft blue eyes. Now that their excitement had gone down, they were both subdued and felt giddy over each other.
“You’ll not… tell anyone of this, will you? Um, particularly not Roger…”
“Of course not! How could I ever?”
“Alright… Thank you.”
David bumped his nose into Richard’s cheek and rubbed against it. Slowly their heads slid apart from one another and they sat up on the bed. Richard got off and reclaimed his nearly forgotten hat after rising to his feet, immediately blushing madly and looking painfully embarrassed at David.
“I- I’m sorry, David. I… I don’t know how I… why…”
David shook his head and pressed a finger to the delicate lips to silence them. “It’s perfectly alright,” he whispered gently. “I needed it. Trust me.” He placed a soft kiss on Richard’s cheek and smiled at him.
“I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow, then?” he said.
David nodded, confidence growing. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you there.”
Richard grinned and left the room, closing the door to a pondering David, who sat back on the bed and sighed as he ran his calloused fingers through his hair. Christ, it had certainly all happened, hadn’t it? But what he said was true; he did need it.
He felt much better now.
He resumed the position he had taken earlier, except this time, he had a pencil and paper with him, and he was no longer huddled in despair – he sat tall as he began to write: lyrics and music and anything that came to mind that he could give to his new band. He would show them what he could do.
He was ready.
He was complete.