Beat of Their Own Drum, page 16
“Jude? What are you doing answering Archer’s phone?”
“Oh shit,” I mutter, hearing Lando’s confused voice. I pull the phone away from my ear and shake Archer more violently. On my other side, Bennett stirs.
“Who the hell’s calling before the sun is up?” Bennett grumbles at the same time Archer rubs his eyes and asks a similar question, if not a little more gently.
“It’s for Archer. It’s Lando.” I whisper, holding my hand over the talky part of the phone so Lando hopefully won’t hear. It’s early, maybe he’ll believe he was tired and misheard my voice answering.
Archer’s eyes snap to alertness, and he scrambles to sit up, clearing his throat and reaching for the phone.
“Hello? Is everything okay, Lando?”
Whatever Lando’s response is has Archer blushing and clearing his throat again. He casts a quick glance in our direction and asks Lando about his vacation. He listens to whatever Lando says and then casts another nervous look in my direction.
“Undetermined at this point. Why? Getting anxious to get back to New York?” he asks Lando with a forced laugh.
Surprisingly, the conversation turns to Archer asking about some man and, for the first time in a decade, I find myself interested in what’s going on with one of my bandmates.
“Jude is in a much better place. Bennett’s helping him,” Archer says, and I’m sure surprise is written all over my face. He gives me a little smile and shrug before saying his goodbyes to Lando.
“You too, and I look forward to meeting your muse,” he says before hanging up.
“Lando met someone?” I guess.
“More like found someone.” Archer raises his eyebrows significantly.
“Holy shit, well good for him,” I mumble as the reality of my current situation sinks in. I’m naked in bed with Archer. I had his cock in my mouth last night, and he came down my throat after watching Bennett spank me. I wiggle a little, enjoying the soreness of my ass from the spanking, my balls growing even more sore from my unproductive lust.
“Still, brat,” Bennett commands, his voice even deeper than usual from sleep.
I whimper and force myself to stop moving. His large hand comes to rest on my thigh, warm and steadying in a way that sends a small thread of panic through me.
“Am I allowed to get up and take a piss, Sir?” I snap, jerking my leg away from him.
Bennett scowls and Archer gasps quietly.
“Care to try that again with a different tone?” Bennett suggests.
I grit my teeth, taking a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to calm the irritation and chaos prickling at my skin.
“May I please use the bathroom, Sir?” I ask again, keeping my voice even and my tone pleasant this time.
“Yes, you may. And then we’re going to have breakfast and go for a run. When we get back, we’ll talk about your parents.”
I stiffen as memories of the night before wash over me—the phone call from my aunt, the sharp pain of hearing that my mother died over a month ago. I missed the funeral, I missed her illness, I missed the chance to try to help her or at the very least say goodbye.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something to say,” Bennett counters coolly, leaving no room for further argument.
I want to snap something else at him, rage and scream at him or Archer, climb over them and finish destroying the bedroom. Instead, I scoot to the bottom of the bed to get up. When my feet hit the floor, there’s a crunch, and a burning pain slices through the bottom of my foot. The same damn foot I cut on glass back at my place a few weeks ago.
“Mother fucker,” I curse, yanking my foot back up.
Archer is at my side within seconds. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine,” I grit out, keeping my eyes on the floor this time as I stand up.
“Jude—”
“I said, I’m fine.”
I storm out of the room, no doubt leaving blood smears on the floor, itching to slam the door but not willing to dig myself into an even deeper hole with Bennett.
I lock the bathroom door behind me and slump down onto the edge of the tub, putting my face in my hands as too many emotions wash over me. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be numb right now.
When I pull my hands away, I’m surprised to find them wet with tears. God, I’m pathetic. I sniffle and use the back of my hands to wipe the rest of the tears away.
Once I pull myself together, I take a piss and then stare helplessly down at my bleeding foot. I’m a grown ass man; I should be able to take care of this myself, and it’s not that I can’t it’s just…
There’s a light rap at the bathroom door.
“I have a first aid kit under the sink, but I can fix that up for you if you want. It should be rinsed out and dried before you apply Neosporin.”
Warmth spreads through me at the sound of Archer’s voice on the other side of the door, full of concern for me. I open the door, and Archer’s smile is full of relief as he steps inside and guides me to sit back down on the edge of the tub. I wince at the cold against my bare skin, and I realize for a second time that I’m still naked in front of Archer.
“Is Bennett pissed at me?” I ask in a whisper when Archer kneels at my feet with an antiseptic wipe in hand.
“Don’t worry about Bennett.”
“Easy for you to say,” I scoff.
He doesn’t respond, but his expression is contemplative as he cleans up the cut on the bottom of my foot for a second time. Maybe if I stopped enjoying the sound of glass shattering so much, I’d stop cutting myself on all the broken glass.
He dabs ointment along my injury and then looks up at me.
“You like the spanking and stuff, right?”
“Yes,” I answer almost too quickly and wince at how eager I sound.
“Okay, so…”
“I don’t want to disappoint him,” I confess in another whisper, not sure if I don’t want Bennett to hear or if I’m just afraid to say it out loud.
Archer nods in understanding, placing a Band-Aid and then gathering up the wrappers and putting things back into the first aid kit.
“I’m going to start breakfast while you get dressed.”
“Thanks…” I stumble over what to call him. I’m not sure why Archer doesn’t feel right; it just doesn’t feel like it’s enough.
“You’re welcome, sweet boy.”
His words send a jolt through me. The memory of his lips on mine last night has a different kind of heat buzzing through my veins—not lust, exactly, but…something. Something too big and utterly terrifying if I’m being honest.
I sit on the edge of the tub another few minutes after Archer walks out of the bathroom, until the ache in my ass and the chill of the porcelain against my skin becomes too much, and I have to get up.
I’m a little surprised not to find Bennett in the bedroom when I get there. I get dressed and then hesitate for a few seconds trying to decide if I’m supposed to clean up the mess I made in here now or if Bennett wants me to come straight downstairs. The uncertainty makes me edgy, and the fact that it makes me edgy upsets me even more. I’ve never needed anyone else to tell me what to do before, and now after a couple of weeks with Bennett, I feel like I can’t take care of myself.
You weren’t doing such a good job of taking care of yourself before, a little voice in the back of my head points out, and the fact that it’s right makes me want to find just one more thing to break.
Bennett
Archer fusses around the kitchen, going to great lengths to avoid looking in my direction while I sit quietly, drinking orange juice at the table.
“Can I assume you were listening at the door last night, or do I need to fill you in on what that phone call was about?”
“I caught the important parts,” I assure him.
Jude shuffles into the kitchen, fully dressed now and no longer bleeding thanks to Archer. I should’ve made sure the glass on the floor was cleaned up before we went to bed; that was an oversight on my part.
“I cleaned up the room, Sir,” he says quietly.
“Very good, thank you.”
Archer glances over his shoulder at Jude, and the warmth in his gaze tells me he can be everything Jude needs; he just has to learn how.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” Archer calls over his shoulder, and Jude nods before plopping down into a chair at the table. There’s still a surly air about him, but it seems to have at least softened a little since he woke up.
With the news he got yesterday, I can’t blame him for his behavior, but I also know now is the time he’ll need consistency from me the most. I may not be the warm, fuzzy type like Archer, but I can be a stable place for him right now while other parts of his life may feel like they’re falling apart.
Archer brings a couple of plates filled with eggs and toast over to the table and sets them in front of me and Jude. I notice Jude sneaking a sidelong look at Archer.
“Are you going to come running with us this morning?” I ask Archer once he sits down at the table with his own plate.
“Jude hurt his foot; you can’t take him running,” Archer argues.
“I’m fine,” Jude insists, seeming sulkier than usual this morning.
“You’re not fine. You cut the bottom of your foot.”
Jude’s hand clenches around his fork, and his eyes flash with defiance.
“I want to run. Can you just drop it and let me do what I want?”
“Fine,” Archer snaps back. “I’ll come then. God knows I could use the exercise.”
I eye him appreciatively. Even though he’s fully clothed, I have no trouble remembering what he looked like bare and wanting. “No complaints from me.”
“Oh, good, because god knows, I lay awake at night hoping my body will live up to your standards,” he says sarcastically, and I bite back a smirk. Of all the things I’ve missed about Archer over the years, I think this is what I’ve missed most.
We eat our breakfast and then hit the trail behind the house. We’re up to four miles and I’m impressed with Jude’s determination this morning. Archer, on the other hand…
“You’re right; you do need the exercise,” I tease as he huffs and puffs his way back up the steps to the house at the end of the run.
“Die,” he sputters, giving me the finger.
“Brat, jump in the shower and then meet us in the living room for our talk.”
“Us?” Jude asks nervously.
“Yes, us. Go.”
His jaw ticks, and for a second, I’m sure he’s going to argue. Instead, he just turns on his heel and stomps upstairs.
“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” Archer observes.
“He needs you, Archie. What he wants hasn’t been working out so well for him to this point, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I’m not an idiot,” he barks. “But your whole idiotic idea about me somehow being part of this relationship, or whatever it is, doesn’t work if he doesn’t want it, too.”
“You don’t think Jude wants you?” I ask with a chuckle. “Oh, Archie, I thought you just said you weren’t an idiot.”
Track 28: Side A
You Can’t Make Me
Archer
Apparently, I’m popular today , I think wryly as Lincoln’s name flashes across my screen.
“I have to take this real quick,” I tell Bennett before disappearing into my office. I say a silent prayer that everything is okay with Lincoln before answering.
“Hello,”
“Archer, I need you to take care of something for me,” he says immediately.
I sigh and lean back in my chair. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but the leeches found me.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” he agrees with a soft laugh. “I got out of there, and I’m heading out of town now. I need you to get someone to pick up my rental car and return it.”
I cock my head in confusion even though Lincoln can’t see me. How is he getting out of town without his rental car…and why?
“Why?” I ask.
There’s a long hesitation before Lincoln answers my question. “Because I’m with someone who has a car, and we’re heading to the airport.”
“Are you heading back to New York already?”
“Washington state,” he says in a clipped tone, not inviting further questions. But I’ll be damned if I let it slide.
“Washington? With who?” Who does Lincoln even know outside of the band?
“You don’t know him.”
“Why are you being so secretive about this?”
“None of your business, that’s why,” he snaps.
I sigh. “Fine, do whatever you want, Lincoln. I’ll take care of the car,” I assure him.
“Okay, thanks, man. The car is outside my cabin with the keys inside…Oh, and one last thing. Can you get us two plane tickets to Seattle?”
“If you want me to get plane tickets, I’m going to need to know his full name.”
It’s Lincoln’s turn to sigh. “I’ll text you the information…thanks again. Bye.”
It only takes a minute after hanging up before a text message comes through with the information I need to get plane tickets.
My eyes widen, and I almost can’t breathe as I read the name Lincoln has sent me for his companion. Jace Greene. Jace. I can still hear the name falling from his lips as he bled out before my eyes. I can still smell the metallic scent in the air, feel the stickiness on my hands as I tried to hold a towel to his wound.
I don’t know who this man is, and I can’t decide if I’m elated or terrified that Lincoln seems to have reconnected with him.
I order the tickets and email them to Lincoln before getting up to stretch my legs. My heart is still pounding too hard, my stomach roiling unpleasantly. I need fresh air.
As soon as I step out of the office, I nearly run into Bennett.
“Jude is waiting for us in the living room; come on.”
I nod stupidly, my brain still foggy from the unpleasant memories, and follow Ben.
Jude
I fidget on the couch, waiting for Bennett to come back with Archer. My whole body is buzzing with confused and nervous energy. My cock kind of wants to get hard at the memory of Archer’s cock in my mouth last night, but it’s still trapped in the cage, and frankly, part of me is a little glad I can’t get hard right now. Memories of Archer’s rejection of me all those years ago feels fresh in a way it hasn’t since the night I laid my heart on the line, and he tossed it back in my face. The rest of me wants to jump up and down or scream or break something just to release some of the buzzing feeling crawling all over me. I’d give my left nut for something to take the edge off right about now.
But instead of breaking things or trying to figure out a way to get my hands on some coke, I drum my fingers against my thigh in a fast beat, and I pull up the memory of Bennett’s hands on me last night, the sharp sting each time his hand met my ass, and the feeling of floating as I let go of all the feelings inside me and just felt.
Footsteps approach the room, and I force myself to still, holding my breath and ignoring the part of me that wants to climb into Archer’s lap again like I did last night and seek out the gentle comfort he offered.
Bennett and Archer both take seats in the overstuffed chairs beside the couch, and the urge to get on my knees and crawl over to them is almost overwhelming. I want to press myself against Archer’s legs and soak up his steady presence or beg Bennett to turn off my brain again.
“Brat,” Bennett says more gently than usual. “Why don’t you come over here and kneel up.” It sounds like a suggestion rather than a command, but I’m so relieved that he somehow read exactly what I needed that I let out the breath that’s starting to burn in my lungs, and I do as he says.
I position myself roughly between the two men, kneeling on the floor, my hands in my lap, and my gaze cast downward because I’m afraid if I make eye contact with either of them, they’ll somehow see all the chaos I’m feeling inside somehow shining through my eyes.
“Tell me about your dad,” Bennett says, and I feel my whole body tense. Archer’s fingers card gently through my hair, giving me the distinct feeling of being a dog, but I can’t say I hate it. I lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly until I’m able to find the words to answer the question.
“He was a prick.”
“Because you’re gay?” Archer guesses, and I snort.
“No, he was a prick long before he found that out.”
“Did he put his hands on you?” Bennett asks.
“No. This might sound fucked up, but I almost feel like he didn’t even give enough of a shit to bother hitting me. Not that abuse equals love or any stupid shit like that, but it was like he couldn’t even be bothered to hate me. I always got the feeling that if I’d suddenly disappeared, it wouldn’t have fazed him,” I confess, the words becoming easier as they tumble out. “Sometimes, I would do stupid shit just to see if I could get a rise out of him. I thought for sure coming out to him would piss him off enough to at least yell at me, look at me with disgust, something. But, nothing. He hardly acknowledged I even said anything. I guess it was better than what some people get, but I just wanted him to care.” I shrug, feeling somewhat pathetic now that all of it is out in the open for Archer and Bennett.
“You acted out to get his attention,” Archer repeats in a strained voice.
“It doesn’t matter.” I wave him off. “It didn’t make a difference. I wasn’t the child he wanted…hell, he probably didn’t want kids at all, and he got saddled with me. I can’t blame the guy for being disappointed, I guess.”
“He sounds like an asshole,” Bennett concludes. “What was your mom like?”
“She was sad a lot, but every once in a while, we’d have these…moments, I guess? She wanted to be a good mom, and I can’t really blame her for my dad. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.” I can feel tears starting to well up in my eyes, thinking about my mom. Unlike my dad, before I left home for the last time, she told me she was proud of me. She said she always knew I was talented and would do big things. I hugged her and told her to call me any time, and I’d fly her out for a visit. She never called.
