*~*Jon's POV: June 8, 2013*~*

"You have got to be kidding me?!"

"Richie canceled his flight from Hawaii," Paul says in the receiver.

My head drops into my hands and I blow through my teeth. "Fuck...We have a concert TONIGHT! The fuck you mean Richie canceled his flight?!?!"

I look up as a knock came at my door and I tear it open angrily, David standing there in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans. He only has to look at my face, no need to ask the question. He follows me back in and sits on the sofa across from my bed.

"He didn't..."

"Yeah, he fucking did. Fuck are we gonna do, Lema?!" I pace the room and grab a wine bottle.

He takes it from me and grabs my shoulders. "We're gonna be on fuckin' point like we are every night. You, me and Tico are not letting this fuckwit slow us down. Call Phil and have him hop a red eye. We're gonna get this done, Cap."

I'm able to take a painful breath as David makes a few calls. I send a text to Richie. Maybe he'll afford me an explanation on a personal level...

I drain my wine glass and flip through the TV channels. It's 2 am. I can't sleep but the band members are sleeping like little fucking babies. Goddamnit, I envy them. My head pulsates and anxiety rises from our concert earlier. You try playing for 10,000 screaming maniacs and see how you handle it.

My finger smashes the power button and I toss the remote on the table. Night time is a bitch. Gives you too much time to think. David's suite is next to mine and I listen to his light snoring. It's almost as rhythmic as his playing.

I had turned down his offer for a midnight bitch session, now I wish I hadn't. Even if it was him complaining about his kids, it would beat being alone. I glare down at the setlists for the next three concerts in Lema's awful handwriting and flip through them.

'There's no wind and there's no rain in the eye of a hurricane' is scribbled at the top of a page. He chose some oldies and goodies. Leave it to him to know our music catalog inside and out.

"Sure know how to hit the nail on the head," I chuckle to myself. He's been my best friend since we were 16 and playing in Asbury Park for chump change. I can clearly remember the young David Rashbaum in the basement doing his homework between sets.

The friendship had been a natural thing and he was the person I could always go to. When we got a record deal, he was the first one I called. When Slippery went number 1, we stayed up and drank in celebration. When Dorothea divorced me, he was the one there and let me stay at his place.

This wasn't an easy feat considering he and April had newborn twins, but I got some quality Uncle Johnny time. Then the day came that April left him. Their divorce was bitter and I was there for him. I listened to him cry and bitch, or just pass out drunk on my bed.

It was only within the last two weeks that I found my thoughts shifting. I'd catch myself glancing over at David, or watching him walk up the steps. Especially in his tight leather pants...

I shift on the couch and find myself getting hard thinking of David in those pants. And without them. And in the shower...gloriously wet in the shower. My hand squeezes at my dick impulsively. I look over to the door that separates us.

'Maybe he'll like it...'

'What if he doesn't?'

'He will.'

'David is straight...'

'Maybe he's bisexual?'

I shake the internal voices from my hand and stand, walking towards the door and creeping it open slowly. 'Fuck what am I doing?'

His room is dark and I hold my breath as I latch the door. My eyes adjust to the dark and I see his form in the king size bed. The sheets are tangled around his waist, one arm flung over his head and the other resting next to him.

This isn't the first time I've snuck in just to watch him. I know that sounds weird but we've had weirder situations. Trust me. There's something so peaceful about David and, no matter how I try to convince myself otherwise, attractive.

David is carelessly handsome. He doesn't ask people how he looks, if his hair is set just so, or how white his teeth are. Unlike Richie who would not leave the room until he looked perfect. That just isn't David. I brace myself as he jostles in his sleep, letting a small whimper.

I wait for his breathing to even back out. When it does, I push my shorts to the floor and tiptoe across to the bed. Ever so gently I pull the sheets down enough to slip under them. The bed is warm from his body heat and I smile, scooting closer.

He smells faintly of his favorite cologne and natural musk. I close my eyes and inhale, biting my lip and holding back a moan. David whimpers again. 'What are you afraid of? Rejection?' Well yeah, I answer my own silent question.

David had never let on being anything but straight, but something inside me just needs to be close to him. I need to know he's right there. My rock to lean on when things get tough. When Richie left the band and me, my life was torn apart.

Not only did I lose a trusted bandmate and songwriter, but I lost my lover. He hasn't texted or called. No emails. Nothing.

I open my eyes and gasp. David is looking straight at me, his bright blue eyes unblinking. "Jon," he whispers. "The fuck you doing in here, man. It's..." He glances at the clock. "Fuck man it's 2:30. Wha...what you doin' in my bed?"

He was confused and attempting to piece things together still half asleep. Oh god, his breath is warm. "I-I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep," I reply.

"Ya need somethin'? I got Valium in my bag and Fireball on ice," he offered.

"Do...do you think you could...well...maybe just...hold me?" My voice comes out meek, like a child asking for a cookie.

There was a moment of silence, his chest silhouette rising against the moonlit curtains. "Um...sure, man," he finally relents and lifts his arm.

I slide to him and curl up, smiling as I find him fully naked. Not the way Richie would hold me, but the touch was uniquely his. "Thanks, Lema. You're the best."

"You're welcome, Johnny. Now go to sleep," he says. I bury my nose into him and feel intoxicated. My hand slides across his belly, fingertips tracing the hair. I've never done this to him and his muscles clench. "Jon quit fuckin' around."

His voice is thick and gruff and I feel myself getting excited. I press my palm to his navel and slide it downward, curling my fingers into his soft pubic hair. He lets out a sharp breath and pulls my hand away.

"You don't like me touching you?" I ask softly.

"Jon, you're drunk. I can smell it. I know you've been depressed without Richie but--"

"But what? Please. Just let me?" I don't wait for his response and reach under the blanket once more, feeling those curls. He gasps as my fingers find his cock, stroking from base to tip. David makes no further attempt to move and I lean up on my elbow.

For a white Jewish man his cock was positively mouthwatering. His breath hitched as I gently twisted the head. I push the bedsheet down to expose him, stroking the length to its full seven-inch hardness.

"Why me, Johnny?"

I whimper and dip my head. Our lips meet. He's looking up at me and licks his lips. "You're the only one that knows me well enough. The only one I can trust. I don't wanna be alone," I confess with a quiet whimper.

Neither of us make a move to turn on the light. No reason too. He rolls on top of me and I sigh as his lips attach to my neck. His tongue trails over my feverish skin and he lays gently kisses down my shoulder. Pre-cum drools from his cock and onto my hand.

"What do you need, baby?" He growls.

"This..." I stroke him up and down firmly, hearing him fumble around with some loose items. He moans in the darkness as a cool liquid pours over my hand and down his length.

"All fours. Now." I fight not to come and scramble onto my hands and knees. He rises behind me and I moan as he spits on my ass hole. "You sure?"

"Yes." I cry out as he pushes against the tight muscles, the blunt head of his cock lighting my nerve endings on fire. "Oh fuck, yes..."

His cock invades my body and I feel it ripping me apart. He brushes the small bundle of nerves and I shiver. I feel him pull out to the tip and cool liquid subdues the raging fire.

David groans and plunges back in hard. My back arches and I spread my legs wider. He holds my hips and pounds my desperate ass, his balls slapping into mine and making a pleasant sound.

"Jesus, Johnny. You're fuckin' tight," he growls, pulling my hair with a firm hand.

"Fuck that ass, Lema. Goddamnit fuck it harder!" I yell out and his hand slaps over my mouth, silencing me.

He pulls me back to him and nips my ear. "If you want me to fuck you, you'll call me Daddy. Understand?" I nod my head furiously and whimper as his hand spanks my ass, something I haven't had since Richie. "That's a good boy. My good little Johnny."

David pulls his hand away and lets me fall back to my hands. "Shit, Daddy. Please gimme that cock, Daddy. Fill my ass up, please..." My body writhes in pleasure as he fucks me, holding onto my hips. His cock thickens as I clench around him and I feel his hot seed spill deep into my body.

I grasp onto his arm as he lifts me once more and wraps his hand around my aching dick, jacking it fast enough to make my toes curl. It doesn't take long between his hand and lips at my neck to make me cry out, my cum shooting hard from the tip and my body shuddering.

His hand milks my cock until it's spent and I drop limply onto the bedspread. He hovers over and kisses me, his tongue swirling around my mouth. "Is that what you were wanting?" He asks me.

My breathing is uneven and shallow. I respond with another kiss. "Yes, Daddy."

I feel the bed move and he picks me up into his arms. We both squint from the light on my room and he lays me on my own bed. It feels cold after his. David wets a washcloth and cleans up my body. I look up and see his face for the first time.

"Sleep well, Johnny," he whispers and kisses me once more.

He pulls the sheet up to my chest and shuts the lights, disappearing back into his room. "Goodnight, DB."