*~*2013 - New Year's Eve (David POV)*~*

Following the final 2013 show, we lined up at the front of the stage. Jon's fist clenched around my shirt behind me and I held him tight to my side. We all linked hands as the audience sang to us and bowed, forcing smiles for photos with Bergman.

No one really had a lot to say as we descended below the stage. Jon was right behind me and I could hear him coughing. It was a flurry of towels and water. I reached my hand behind and felt his sweaty fingers lock with mine.

Matt led the herd to the convoy of Escalades, I took Jon into one and shut the door. We sat down and Jon could do nothing but fall crying into my arms. His body shook with his sobs and his voice was shot. Luckily, he never had to say much for me to understand.

"L-Le-Lema..." He choked out once, but I shushed him.

"Just be quiet and relax, Johnny...I love you," I whispered and his tears soaked through my t-shirt. The car ride back to the hotel was short and we snuck in through the underground car park, rode the elevator to the top floor and stepped out into a plush corridor.

I could tell his physical strength was gone as I carried him to the hotel suite, locking the door after placing the 'Do Not Disturb' sign outside. He said nothing as I undressed us both and brought him into the shower with me.

He stood under that hot water and leaned against me as I lathered up his hair and body. Fuck... he didn't even have the strength to lift his hands. "I haven't felt this drained since 1990," he confessed. It wasn't necessary though. I'd known this for weeks, but Jon never wanted to stop.

Jon couldn't tell the band when we might meet up for a studio session because Jon himself didn't even know that answer. The music just wasn't in him. We were all desperate to get as far from the madness, and reminders of Richie, as possible.

Once I dried him off and room service had arrived, our robes lay forgotten over the table and my legs tangled with Jon's on the king size bed. The rest of that night was a blur of lovemaking and wine, tears, and kisses. That beautiful man rode me until we were crying out in release, his nails digging into me.

His tears and my embrace comforted him to sleep, giving me a chance to book a private jet for us on my phone. After all, I didn't wanna disturb him by getting out of bed. His body was just too warm to leave. A month away from all the bullshit was what Jon needed.

Before anyone protests that he needed to be at home or making contact with Richie, I'll say shut the fuck up. I know Jon and I know what he needs.

I watched Jon roll over in my arms the next morning, pulling me into his lips. "Morning, DB." His breath is warm as he groans. I wake him up with small kisses along his collarbone and chest, dipping beneath the covers and bringing my man up to heaven.

Yeah, I said, 'my man'. No matter how much I tried to push it off, he is and was. We don't talk about the future. Just the here and now. I can give him what he needs and he gives me what I've been denying myself.

We take our time in the shower and get dressed. From the suite down to the car and through heavy traffic to the airport, he holds my hand like a drowning man grips a lifeline. Vicky doesn't ask questions aboard the jet, she never does.

It's a long flight from Brisbane to the St Barth airstrip. Jon and I drink and kiss for the most part. If he doesn't care to talk, I don't force it but he knows I'll listen. Ever since the night I said that I love him, Jon's grasped onto that. Hell, so have I. It feels good to love someone again.

"What's that smile for?" Jon's looking over at me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I pull him closer and kiss his lips sweetly.

"For you and this escape from reality with you." Okay, so that might sound a little lame. I wait for him to laugh. He doesn't. Instead, he props himself on his elbow and plays with my curly hair, twisting a strand around his finger and letting it spring back again.

"I know this is quoting our song but...thank you...for loving me..." Jon replied, a slight sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Always." Now that was lame. But from the tiny smile on his face, Jon doesn't care. He stands and pulls me from my seat towards the single bedroom in the back, abandoning our movie and drinks.

It was a bumpy descent into St Barth, the jet rising and dropping with the strong wind gusts. Outside the window, I could see the prominent blue water and sandy beaches. Sometimes this felt more like home than Jersey. I turned at Jon's low whimpers.

"Come on, handsome. You've been through this before," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. In reality, I was shitting bricks with each sway.

"Yeah, doesn't make it any easier," he replied through clenched jaws, "We need a teleporter thing like in Star Trek."

I kiss the back of his hand as the jet inclines forward and the wheels touch down on the runway. Outside, it's warm and inviting. Trees and mountains surround the tiny airport, allowing for complete seclusion.

"Mr. Bryan, Mr. Bongiovi, Welcome!" A dark man with a heavy French Caribbean accent greets us.

Jon's quiet so I open the car door for him and talk to the driver. "No, no we're not up in the hills. No villa. Just the yacht this time," I tell them and the driver nods, loading our bags into the trunk. Inside the car, Jon is pale and curled into himself. "Johnny, you hungry?"

"Nah...not really," he mumbled, "Tired..."

"I promise, you'll have plenty of time to rest," I whisper and open my arms to him. "Come here, babyboy." Jon scooted over to lay his head in my lap and I gently ran my fingers through his hair as the car wound down the hills towards Port de Gustavia.

*~*~*

Okay...so the first week here was uneventful for the most part. As our large yacht traveled along the Carribean, Jon was abnormally quiet. He'd curl up to me if I was next to him or nibble on lunch, but he'd refused to go outside much. I don't think I really expected anything different.

Jon's depression had reached its peak two nights ago. He'd drank his way through most of the booze onboard after he'd sent me to bed. I woke up to him retching and sobbing. He kicked and screamed, punching the wall and nearly clocking me in the nose.

It took me bringing out 'Master' for Jon to finally calm. With the promise of 'therapy' the next day, he allowed me to clean him up and help him to bed. Well, I am a man of my word. Last night after dinner and wine on the deck at sunset, I unpacked my play bag and Jon was kneeling naked next to the plush sofa, just waiting for me.

We were lucky to be far enough from shore that no one could hear Jon's cries and screams. Screams of pain and heartbreak. Cries for the loss and betrayal of a brother. Exhaustion, pleasure, love, lust. It poured out of him with every lashing of my whip and smack of my twitching palm he could never resist.

Jon had held back from using his safeword and allowed me to flog and whip him until his eyes glazed over and he'd lost himself in subspace.

I continued checking to ensure Jon was still good to go and gave him lashing after lashing until black and purple bruises appeared. Eventually, the bruises became bloody, Jon's skin decorated in crimson.

Then and only then did Jon call out "Prayer..." and I transitioned into our aftercare routine.

My tongue traced the scar of my initials carved in Jon's ass check, soft whimpers escaping his lips as he sunk into the bedding. That was the first night in months that he went to bed with a smile.

Today has seen an improvement. Jon's outside in the pool and I'm reclined in a chair on the top deck. Of course, I chose Jon's favorite purple speedo which left little to the imagination. Luckily his was the only imagination present and swimming laps in the crystal clear pool.

His hair is showing a little more gray these days as he stares out over the blue water. I lick my lips as his back muscles flex and he rolls his neck. "Do you know what time it is? Time for my lap dance, baby," I tease loudly over the stereo music, draining the last of my beer.

Jon turns around and gives me a pearly white smile, wadding in the chest high water. "Actually I think it's time to cool you off, Sir," he retorts.

I lower my sunglasses and catch his gaze as he swims up to the dock, splashing at me playfully and sticking out his tongue. "Hey, that shit's cold! Don't tease if you don't plan to deliver," he joked.

"Aww," Jon coos, standing up waist deep to show off his glistening shoulders and wet chest hair. I feel tugging sensation and try to adjust myself. "I'd never tease you, Daddy. I consider that quite an offensive assumption."

"Assumption? Pup, come closer and I'll show you an assumption," I say in a demanding tone and stand from my chair.

"Oooh, I'm so scared. You got me shaking in my shorts." Jon attempted to swim further into the pool as I dive in, only succeeding in being pulled under when I grab his ankle. We wrestle under the water before breaking the surface.

Jon was yelling and I chuckle, holding him in my arms and pushing him against the pool wall. He lifts himself to try and escape, only succeeded in putting his ass in my face. "Think I can shake you out of those panties?" I snap at the waistband with my teeth.

"Is that a threat, Sir?" He simpers and wiggles into my face, losing his grip to fall back into the pool. I catch him in time and turn him in my arms, his legs wrapping around my waist.

"Oh no, Johnny baby," I growl lowly, "It's a promise. And you know I never break my promises to you." Jon gazes down at me, his eyes full of the same lust and laughter as mine.

Jon sticks his tongue out at me, an evil smirk gleams on his face as his arms rest on my shoulders. "I couldn't ever forget that, Daddy," he whispers.

I hold him tight and kiss his cheek, asking, "You feeling better today, baby boy?"

"Yeah I am," Jon nods and kisses the tip of my nose. He smiles down at me as he lays his head on my shoulder. His skin is so warm from the bright sun and he relaxes, our bodies drifting in the water and enjoying the view.

I let out a sigh of contentment as Jon's nose nuzzles into my neck. He thinks I can't hear him sniff but he's always been a sucker for my aftershave. He shifts his body and moans as his cock rubs against mine. "You sore from yesterday?" I ask him as my hands knead his ass, still feeling slightly guilty about our play time.

"Yeah mostly my arms and left hip," Jon complains.

"Want me to make you feel better, baby boy?" He nods at my question and I pull him into a steamy kiss. Our lips and tongues tangle in a passionate dance, fingers dancing along the back of his thighs. I reach between us and untie Jon's shorts, pushing them off along with my own.

He moans as I stroke our cocks together in my hand and pinned him against the wall. "Oh god...feels so good."

My fingers found his tight hole, teasing and stretching, prepping my lover to receive me. I press into him painfully slow, holding onto the poolside and his hip for momentum.

"Mmm you look positively radiant, my love," I groan and slip my tongue between his lips.

His arms wrap like a vice around my neck, running through my hair. "You've made me feel wanted again, baby." Soon his tongue joins mine and we fall into each other, a taste sweet than any fruit or wine.

"I don't just want you, Johnny baby," I moan and lean in to whisper into his ear, "I...need...you..." Each word was punctuated with a deep hard thrust against Jon's prostate, his lips quivering each time.

"Then need me harder! Need me again and again," he whimpers, rocking his body into mine. His head fell back as I move him from the wall onto the pool steps, laying his body back and kneeling in front of him. My eyes lock on his as I sink back into him, piercing his soul.

I hold his thighs and pull back, plunging back in with renewed vigor. "You're mine, Johnny..." Neither of us paid attention to our surroundings, too busy in our own world. "That's it, baby...tighten up that ass around me...more..."

Jon's muscles clench around my cock as his back arches, neck straining and inviting. I reach down and firmly massage his sweet spot just under his balls. "Fuck, Sir...oh god more," he cries.

"Since you're being such a good boy." I grip the pool steps for balance, his cock rubbing between us. Jon hooks his legs over my shoulders. My tongue trails up his strong calves before I stink my teeth into them.

Jon yelps in pleasure and pain, his eyes wild as his fingers gouge at my forearms. I wink and smirk at him, rolling him onto all fours and fuck my man with abandon. "Your good boy feels like being oh so naughty though."

I bring my hand down with a loud smack against Jon's ass cheek, he moans loudly and I give him another. Over and over...deep thrust...pull out...smack...in...out...smack...smack. Each time his body jerks from my touch, I calm him with my nails down his spine. "Say...you're mine..." Smack! "Who to do you belong to, Johnny?" Smack!

"Oh god...you, Sir...you, always you. Fu-ck yeah."

"Cum for me, my dirty little boy," I growl, wrapping my hand around his neck. "Cum for Sir and I'll reward you..." I shove into him deep and hard, fast and desperate. My free hand reaches around to stroke his tightening cock. "Don't you fuckin' hold back on me. Let yourself go...for me..."

"Ungh..." My lover falls over the edge and cries out in his release, his hot cream neatly falling into the clear pool. I soon follow from his body's vibrations, filling him completely. I hold us together, enjoying the tremors and aftershocks. Soon I soften and slip from his warmth, but he clutches my arms when I move slightly. "No...no...not yet..."

I kiss his neck and up to his ear, snaking my tongue out along the lobe. "I promise...I'm not going anywhere, baby, but my legs are going to collapse. How about we go cuddle up in the sun?"

"Sounds heavenly... just give me a minute to find the energy to move," he murmurs and I stand slowly, feeling my joints popping. I help him onto the large poolside loungers and lay down to hold him in my arms. Being so far out, we let the warm sun embrace our nude bodies.

His toned back presses to my chest and he lays feather soft kisses along my arm. "Do you think we scared the staff for life?" Jon asks after a long silence.

"Does it really matter? They get paid generously for their...complete discretion," I reply, nibbling at his ear.