"ON THE ROAD"


Chapter 1

Suddenly guilty, Brett dropped down beside Hayden on the sofa. He scratched fingers into his greasy black hair, a look of despair on his chiselled features. "I'm sorry," he said. "Hayden, I'm sorry, man."

Shrugging his shoulders, Hayden mumbled that it didn't matter. His pout told Brett that it did matter and that he was very upset by his inappropriate outburst. No wonder Theo had rushed so quickly from the room. He'd have to apologise to him, too, Brett decided. Jealousy was a terrible emotion and one Brett found hard to control. But he knew how the world worked. Hayden was a very attractive young man, he could have anyone he wanted; Brett was three years older with a body made entirely of muscle but without the good looks to complete the look. He was always scared of losing Hayden. It had taken him a good six months to get him in the first place, he knew losing him would be much quicker.

"Hayden, I'm sorry," he said again, curling tickling fingers around the collar of Hayden's white T-shirt. "Don't stay mad at me."

Hearing the whine in Brett's voice, Hayden turned to take in his lover. He looked Brett up and down, his features so very soft and unthreatening. He did love Brett, Hayden thought. He was one of the few people in the world that had crept close and stayed at that proximity for more than just a weekend. Brett had taught him so much about love, about the body, sex and companionship. How could he not love him? But he didn't feel what he knew he should. Not that heart-stopping, stomach-fluttering giddiness that Theo conjured in him. Theo only had to look his way and his heart was trip-hopping around his chest. The only time Brett made him feel that way was when they were close in the darkness of another strange hotel room, when Hayden was drowning in a double bed, feeling as if he was falling off the edge of the world. Brett was always there, grounding him, kissing him, speaking words of love against his tender skin, wiping away the tears, promising that everything would look better in the daylight.

Wanting to give something back to his selfless lover, Hayden reached out for Brett and brought him close. Their lips barely touched as Hayden moved his face against Brett's, tickling his mouth against Brett's ear, breathing in the smell of hairspray on his crunchy dark hair.

Without a word, Hayden guided Brett's head down into his lap. The erection inside was not of his making but Brett didn't need to know that. And so very innocently Brett's hands tore hungrily at Hayden's trousers, freeing his need, pushing it into his mouth. Hayden let out a quiet gasp, a giggle escaping his lips, his back arching. Brett dived down against him and Hayden pushed with his hand, encouraging Brett to take him even deeper, swallow him up in the moistness of his mouth.

Brett's head moved faster and Hayden found he no longer needed to guide. His hands fell away, lay flat on either side of his body. His eyes fluttered, his buckteeth biting down on his fuller, bottom lip. His thoughts were of Theo. Theo's pale skin beneath his fingertips, his blue eyes so very much in Hayden's own. What had Brett interrupted? A kiss? A touch well worth the two year wait? Oh, Theo, he breathed in his mind, his body giving in beneath him, exploding into Brett's mouth. Oh, Theo, he whispered again, sadder this time.

Brett's lips moved against his neck, nibbled the skin. Hayden let him stay there for a little while, still not opening his eyes, not wanting to lose the image of Theo's excited-scared face so very close to his own. How he wished it had been Theo in his lap, Theo now giving girlie kisses against his neck. Except it wasn't. It was Brett. And as long as Brett was still there Theo never would be.

Hayden's eyes opened and he brushed Brett away. "I'm going to take shower," he said, getting to his feet, buckling his trousers as he left the room, not caring who saw.

He didn't hear Brett's call of goodbye or the worried glance bearing into his back. He entered the long empty corridor, felt the white walls closing in around him and quickened his pace. Touring was the best and worst part of the job. Being on stage was the most amazing experience in the world - words could never hope to match it, film could never capture it. But being on the road could also be the worst. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff on a very windy day. And some days you fell - and it always hurt. But the next day you'd find yourself on that same cliff edge again and if you were lucky you wouldn't fall again for another week. Hayden didn't get lucky often.

He scratched his fingers into his tightly curled blonde hair and then dug the scattering of dandruff from beneath his fingernail. He needed to wash his hair.

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