*~*David's POV*~*

Not your place to out them!

We support you, Jon and David!

Love knows no gender! One love!

I stare at the illuminated screen of my phone, scrolling through the social media feed. Colton had texted me earlier this morning. It simply said, "Fuck the media...we love you, Dad."

He told me about Twitter blowing up with fans, both mine and the Bon Jovi feeds. I've spent the better part of two hours reading the comments and direct messages. They were good and bad, didn't really expect anything less.

Fucking faggots! Which one takes it up the tailpipe XD

Who wears the pants and who wears the panties??

Yeah, I know people are fuckers. Including Jon. Goddamnit, Jon. It's because of him I'm in this fucking situation. Why the hell did I chase after him that night? Could have been an easy fuck and go.

No...no it couldn't. He's a brother to me, my best friend. It could never stop at a fuck and go. It doesn't stop me from being angry with him. All he had to do was say something.

I ship Richie and Jon! David should be with Tico!

Oh, fuck this shit. The fanfiction writers are coming out now. I toss my phone on the bed and bury my face into the pillows. Jon was smart not to follow me. Fuck he pisses me off sometimes.

My stomach growls at the lack of food and a tugging in my groin keeps me from falling back into a dreamless slumber. What if I pack my shit and just go home? Back to my kids...my music...my own fucking bed...

Fuck! Ok ok I'm getting up. I swear if pissing took a year off my life, I would have been dead decades ago. Just can't hold it in at my age. I catch a glimpse of my disheveled blonde curls. Need to color again. The grey is showing too much.

I throw the door open and stop dead. Jon is there on the floor, slouched against the wall for support. I don't bother to wake him. He can fend for himself. The first morning release...ahh ain't a damn feeling better.

Heading for the stairs, I glance over to find Jon's awake and bleary-eyed. I cock an eyebrow and continue downstairs for coffee and maybe even some bacon. Yes, I know. Bad Jew. Spare me.

I watch the coffee pot chug away with my favorite blend. Only bacon is pre-cooked. I shrug and throw it on a plate to microwave.

"D?" Jon said hesitantly, standing in the doorway as though he wasn't sure of his welcome.

I slam the microwave door shut and punch 30 seconds into the display. "What do you want?" I could hear the emptiness and coldness in my own voice.

"Can...can we talk?"

"Now you wanna talk?" I ask, grabbing the bacon plate when the timer beeped. "You sure you don't wanna wait for the video of us fucking backstage to be released?"

"I...I never...I didn't mean for any of that to happen," Jon stuttered.

I take my cup of coffee gingerly, pouring in a generous measure of my favorite creamer and sugar. "Course you didn't, Jon," I reply sarcastically.

"Can I sit down?" Jon asked, his head was bowed and he picked nervously at his fingers, "I want to tell you everything. Then, if you tell me to go, I will."

We stare at each other, blue eyes on blue, both of us shirtless and shivering. I take the plate of bacon and coffee into the lounge, nodding him in as well. "Fine," I grunt and sit on the sofa. "No bullshit though."

Jon sat on the edge of the opposing sofa, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands while he gathered his thoughts. He looked up finally, blue eyes shiny with unshed tears and started to talk.

"It started back in 2010. James was already working for us, part of the load crew before all this happened. I'd seen him around, watching me, he always seemed to be around when I was with Richie. He started seeking me out to talk.

"After the concert in Houston, he was packing up the tour cases and got flirtatious saying he'd like to bring me out for a drink. Maybe I came off like an asshole but I said I wasn't interested and left with Richie."

I sip my coffee and nibble the bacon as he catches his breath. Yeah, he probably was an asshole. Arrogant, self-centered, ego-driven, and hot as hell with an ass you could crack an egg on. Who wouldn't throw themselves at him?

"Flash forward two weeks later," Jon continues, "Richie and I were recovering from a night of mind-blowing sex. We finish the sound check and I'm in my dressing room going over the setlist one last time. There's a knock at the door. It's James. He's got this cat-who-ate-the-canary smile. Asks me for a drink before the concert. I decline and he pulls out his phone.

"He's got several photos and video of...of me and Richie from the prior week. A few actually. It started small with Richie giving me a quick kiss and then...fuck...I sorta pushed Richie for quickie under the stage. We thought we were hidden amongst the equipment boxes. Obviously not hidden enough."

"Obviously," I repeat with a raised brow.

"So, James comes to me with this shit-eating grin and shows me the videos," Jon sighed and scrubbed his face with one hand, "He says he'll keep everything under wraps if I...if I let him fuck me. That was the first time. When...when that wasn't enough, he demanded money, then a job with Matt. Then...," he trailed off.

I shake my head and drain the rest of my coffee. "Johnny, security is there for a reason. Why didn't you tell one of us or even Matt? We put trust in you both and you couldn't even trust us enough to call a band meeting? Have his phone confiscated?"

"Because I was ashamed, okay?!" Jon snarled, "The buck stops with me. Or the fuck stops with me. Ha!" he spat out a derisive laugh, "Richie got wind that something was up. I couldn't even let him touch me anymore. That's one of the reasons he left, okay?! He...he thought I was cheating on him."

"No, it was worst," I pipe in, "You were lying to him. And me."

"Fuck D, he had me jumping at my own shadows," Jon cried, "Every single fucking time, he'd come to me with new photos or videos, just to keep my mouth shut and my legs open."

Jon fell quiet and I made no effort to speak for several minutes. I look out the big picture window over the morning sun reflecting off the glistening pool.

"Then...when I started to refuse," he continued in almost a whisper, "he started slipping something into my stage tea. He'd be the security on my dressing room and quick change. Didn't you notice it wasn't always Matt?"

"With how hard you work me on tour, I don't notice much else besides sheet music, schedules, and my rig," I answer in a monotone. "I barely noticed Lexi when she came along. Fuck Jon, I'd have panic attacks at the hotel. So no...I didn't notice a small security change."

Jon stood and walked over to the window, standing close behind David, slipping an arm around his waist, "I'm sorry. So very sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"Jon, I beg you, just give me one good reason not to put in my own resignation," I whisper, emotion choking my words.

"Be-," Jon cleared his throat, "because I love you. I can't lose you too. My life wouldn't be worth anything anymore."

I pull away from Jon's arms, fighting to keep the tears bay. "Honestly...I think it's best if we cool it for a while. Fuck man...I need to digest everything and...decide if I wanna still be with you...and with the band. This is why I never wanted another relationship..."

My phone starts buzzing and I rip it away from the table. I swallow thickly at Lexi's name and spare a glance at Jon, leaving him standing alone. I press the talk button and raise the phone to my ear. "Hey..."

Lexi's voice flowing through and tears fall one by one, staining my cheek. "Hey...is now ok or are you busy?"

"Right now I'm just glad to hear a familiar voice."

"I saw the news," Lexi says, "Didn't know Jon was your type."

I roll my eyes and reply, "Whether he is or not, that's yet to be determined. I told him I needed a break."

Jon looked up sharply in surprise at the first comment, before seemingly crumbling in on himself. I back out of the room and turn my back to him, unable to stand seeing him any longer.

Out the back door onto the patio, I slide the glass doors shut and collapse onto one of the chairs. "Probably for the best," Lexi agrees, "You don't have to tell me anything more if you--"

"Actually...you're the one person I could use right now," I cut in. "I know our marriage ended in a shitty way..."

"Just a little. I mean I only caught you in a threesome with Richie and a groupie," her voice trails off then she continues, "Are you still in St. Barth?"

I scrub the tears from my flushed face. "Yeah...I'm at the villa..."

"Want me to come by?"

I glance inside and see Jon slouch upstairs, presumably to pack his suitcase. "You're here?"

"Mmhmm," she responds and I shiver, "On vacation with the girls. Kelly is getting married so it was a great excuse to fly south."

"Jon's here packing. Can I meet you somewhere instead?"

"Come by the Cheval Blanc. Suite 203," she says. "It's a corner suite, private balcony overlooking the ocean. Very peaceful."

My breathing is shaky as I hang up with Lexi and rush upstairs for a quick shower. I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't be meeting up with my ex-wife but, besides April, Lexi knows me. She knows what makes me tick and she knows my anxiety. Admittedly, she also knows how to calm that anxiety.

The shower is brief but thorough. I wrap a towel around my waist, pull my hair into a ponytail and swear to myself. All my shit is in the same room as Jon's. I glance down the short hallway, praying for him to walk out. He doesn't.

I take a deep breath and push the door open, breezing past where he's packing over to my own luggage. His eyes are boring into the back of my head, sending chills up my spine. I paw through my belongings for my favorite black shorts and a white button down shirt.

"D...talk to me, please?" Jon asked, "Where are you going?" I ignore his question and throw the towel onto the bed after drying my chest. "I asked you a question. The least you can do is answer me?"

"Out," I reply, sliding my shorts on and zipping them up. I pull my shirt on and button it only halfway, shrugging and finish the look with a baseball cap and sunglasses.

"Out where?" Jon persisted and grabbed at David's arm as he walked past him. "We need to talk this out, babe."

I yank my arm from his grasp. "Don't call me 'babe' and no, we don't. You...you just need to go."

"I'll...I'll be gone by the time you get back here," Jon straightened, hurt and frost tinging his words, "I expect you back at work week after next."

"You'll see me when you see me," I snap and slam the door behind me.

*~*Jon's POV*~*

Okay...so I fibbed a little. I couldn't just leave for Jersey, not yet. Part of me hoped beyond anything that David would have a change of heart and call. I fall to the bed when I hear his Moke speed away from the house.

I have my fit of crying and screaming into the pillows, David's scent still lingering in the soft cotton. Once they slow, I pull up a list of five-star resorts in the area. Each one I call is booked for the holiday week. This is why I don't deal with travel arrangements personally!

"Cheval Blanc, this is Marcus," a smooth male voice comes on the phone.

"Marcus, I hope you can help me. Are you all booked as well?"

A few moments of listening to him tapping a keyboard are enough to jostle my nerves. "Actually we do have one suite available. Oceanside..."

"I'll take it," I cut him off and grab my wallet. I give him the credit card number and get a confirmation for booking.

"Thank you, sir," Marcus said after the transaction was processed, "You're all set. Do you need a car to pick you up?"

"Yes. I seem to be out of transport options," Jon frowned, "I can be ready in half an hour."

*~*

Forty-five minutes and one suitcase later, the car is speeding around the hills towards the beautiful resort. Somehow the island colors seem less vibrant. I tip the driver and roll my case inside.

Check-in was quick and relatively painless. Suite 202's decor is white with blue accents, private patio and...a large bed. Very large. California King size and memory foam. A bed that should be shared.

I open the patio doors and breathe in the air. It's heavier and less sweet, far less tantalizing than it was only 48 hours ago. I find the pack of cigs in my bag and strike one, inhaling the strong smoke and savoring the flavors.

It's peaceful. The ocean waves roll into the sandy beach, the faintest music carrying on the breeze. I take another drag and call down for room service. Wine...no...whiskey...bourbon...the strongest they have. Whole bottles. Three, in fact. A large platter of buffalo wings and fries.

I can hear laughter and voices from the rooms on either side of me. One bottle goes down smooth and the voices fade slightly. The sun rises to its peak then begins to fall. I'm working through my second bottle and strip down to baggy sweats. No shirt. Too warm for that.

Whiskey was always David's favorite. He could drink anyone under the table. I flip through the TV channels absently. Nothing and the news is no longer an interest.

At some point, I nod off with the bottle in my hand. When my eyes open, darkness has settled over and the TV has shut off. I take a long swig of the liquor and smack my lips together in appreciation.

I wander outside and light up another cig. Apparently, the neighbors are getting lucky. The woman is moaning and panting. That fucker's a lucky one. Her partner is breathing heavily and growling.

My hand rests over my crotch and the growl goes straight through me. Christ, I think, it sounds familiar...or maybe I'm just missing him that much.

"Oh god, baby, yes," the male groans.

"Fuck, I missed you," his partner breaths, "right there...fuck, you didn't forget...oh god right there..."

"Goddamnit, Lex." My blood freezes and the cig slips through my fingers. My stomach churns ominously with all the booze and greasy food, but I'm rooted to the spot in sick fascination, like when you see an accident and you just can't look away. I can tell instantly that this will be a car crash of epic proportions, yet my body refuses to move.

David. I'm not hearing things. David is here. With Lexi. But that should be me. I should be the one he's making love to...not her...not her.

The more I hear the more anger takes over from surprise; it's the anger that fuels the movement. Their moans grow louder, Lexi begging David to fuck her ass. I lurch from the chair as Lexi cries out David's name and I stumble through the suite and out the door.

I find myself outside the suite next door. For one moment I've frozen again, wondering if it truly was David I was hearing or just my mind and the two bottles of booze making me hear things.

I pound my fist against the wood, getting louder and faster the more the anger and bitterness take hold of me.

"D! I know you're in there," I yell at the sickly beige door, my fist never ceasing its thumping, "C'mon, D, you don't wanna fuck her again..."

The door swings open and David is standing there holding a towel in front of him. I see Lexi over his shoulder low in the hot tub. He'd obviously told her to stay put. "Jon! What the fuck are you doing here?!" He yells and pushes me back when I try to force myself into the room.

"What am I doing here? I could ask you the same," I yell, stumbling backward into the wall behind me, "Did you have this all planned, or something? Did that fucking bitch find out about James? Or did she set the whole fucking thing up? For what? To ruin me? Well, she'll take you down with me."

Someone yells down the hallway "Shut the fuck up or I'm calling management!" and a door slams.

"You know damn well she didn't!" He snaps back, eyes darkening and his voice taking on a firm tone I knew all too well. "She's here for her friend's bachelorette vacation if you must know. Now you need to go, Jon. Just go."

"No...please D," I grasp in vain at his arm, desperation clawing at me all of a sudden as I see my life being torn into shreds, "I need you. Please, baby. Don't...don't send me away."

Lexi's smooth nude body appears at David's side, wrapping her arm around his waist. "If you two need to talk--"

"No, we don't," David cut off. "Jon is gonna go back to...wherever he's staying, sober up and go back to Jersey in the morning. Aren't you, Johnny?"

"The fuck I will," I spit back at him, "You don't get to boss me around, fucker! I OWN YOU! You'd be nothing...hear me? Nothing...without me."

I didn't care how loud I was being, or the tears coursing down my cheeks, I was spinning out of control and did the only other thing that came to mind. My fist was flying through the air before I even realized what was happening, but it's checked easily, coming to a sudden stop that I feel all the way up to my shoulder.

"KNEEL!" My knees buckle and I drop to the floor at David's feet, the bottle rolling from my hand. "You're wrong, Jon. I own you," David says coolly. "You would be nobody without us and yet you've been selfish and manipulative all 30 years. Yet I can bring you to your knees with one word. The only fucker here is you. You keeping secrets and lying to us, putting our reputation on the line. I'll only tell you this one more time. Go...home."

With that, I glance up to see David walking away. Lexi looks down her nose at me and smirks, closing the door in my face and locking it. The elevator pings a short way down and three arms security guards exit, striding towards me and I hear David's crying from inside the suite.

I feel none-too-gentle hands haul me to my feet and start to ask questions. I'm numb. Numb with grief and shame and heartache. I can only nod or shake my head as two of them escort me to the elevator and, presumably, the third to pack up my belongings.

Ha! Joke's on him, I never even unpacked. I watch the steel doors close and fight off the complete body shudder I feel go through me at the finality of that.

I'm roughly thrown into a sparse room and the door locked from the outside. I pace the four walls as the past 36 hours play in my mind's eye. I feel a wave of nausea wash over me and bang on the door to get someone's attention, visually searching for a waste bin or similar.

The food, booze, and bile were coming too quickly and I turn to the closest corner as my stomach emptied itself over the floor tiles. I groan and weep as I clutch my stomach through the foul retches and fall to my knees beside my mess, curling into a ball as exhaustion and the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol finally takes its toll.

Absolute loneliness embraces me like an old friend, but now there is no one to turn to...no suite to sneak into and no warm bed to crawl into. Richie, then David, float through my mind before unconsciousness pulls me under.