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Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. I mimed zipping my lips and throwing away the key.
It was early morning by the time we pulled into the parking lot of the shitty motel we had booked on the outskirts of Vegas. After taking turns driving through the night, with way less blowjobs than I anticipated, sadly, Colt looked ready to crash. On the other hand, I couldn’t get this damn seatbelt off fast enough.
As soon as I could deposit my sleepy boyfriend into our room with the luggage, preferably with him making good on one of his many promises he bribed me with for good behavior on the drive, I was going out scouting. We only had a week tops before we had to be back home to start packing up the house for our move to Kansas City, and that’s if our limited budget didn’t run out beforehand. So, I was determined not to waste more than a minute longer than I had to sleeping.
Colt trudged to the reception to check us in while I grabbed our duffel bags from the truck. I probably wouldn’t bother except for the fact that they contained the lube and I still hoped to get lucky. Yes, I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Although telling myself that jerking off together could wait until later didn’t help the ache in my cock.
Not that I could be blamed. Since getting together, we’d never gone this long without at least a handy. After Colt’s surprise birthday performance, we’d become insatiable. All summer had been spent with us doing almost everything possible while naked. We’d gone as far as you could without going all the way, something I knew Colt was more than ready for. Mostly because he told me. All the time. Or more accurately begged me for while I was three fingers deep in his ass.
Well, too bad for him. I was still a romantic at heart, and even if he didn’t care if our first time was special, I sure did. I had plans, damn it, and they wouldn’t be foiled. No matter how many times he shook that delectable ass at me.
It wasn’t even just the orgasms that I craved, it was the intimacy between us. I’d always been an affectionate guy, but my constant need to touch Colt felt different. Sometimes I worried that there’d been a mistake and someone as special and amazing as Colt couldn’t truly want me. My mind liked to conjure up the idea that one day I’d wake up and he’d be gone, nothing more than a fantasy. The only time those thoughts dissipated were when his warm mouth engulfed my dick.
As much as he feigned indifference, pretending that he didn’t need anyone or anything, I knew better. Colt craved intimacy as much as I did. Maybe more. His desire to be enveloped in my tight embrace while we lay in bed satisfied his innate need to feel safe and secure.
Sex was how we communicated what we both needed reassurance of; that what we had together was real. I hadn’t imagined it was possible to feel this connected with another person. The intimacy and chemistry we shared told me we would defy the odds.
As predicted, by the time I got back to the room with our duffels, Colt was sprawled out face-first on the mattress and snoring up a storm. It was actually perfect, giving me time to start searching for the perfect location and call Remy to coordinate things.
∞∞∞
As it turns out, a week in Vegas slips away in the blink of an eye. Even without the allure of drinking or gambling, or really anything that required any money, we still managed to have the best fucking time.
Colt, in particular, reveled in the experience. He absorbed the city’s wonders with a wide-eyed enthusiasm that one might typically associate with a child. Witnessing Colt shed his inhibitions was truly gratifying. He had blossomed during our time together, revealing a side of himself that he never showed anyone other than me. The real Colt had emerged—somewhat shy, sweet, and concealing a touch of silliness just beneath the surface.
While I navigated the week with a degree of silent trepidation, quietly shitting myself, tonight marked a pivotal moment. With bated breath, I hoped that all my carefully laid plans would unfold seamlessly.
Colt’s brow furrowed into that irresistibly adorable scowl of his as he scrutinized the sign outside the bar we had just approached. “Intrigue” was emblazoned across the front doors, illuminated by bold, bright yellow lights. The accusatory stare he directed at me suggested he was familiar with the venue, and I wasn’t surprised in the least.
Intrigue’s open mic nights had achieved a legendary status among aspiring artists, and Colt seemed well aware of its reputation. This was no ordinary stage; it had been the launchpad for the careers of over two dozen renowned musicians. The joint’s notoriety ensured that well-connected agents and producers made a point to frequent the establishment whenever they found themselves in southern Nevada.
However, gone were the days of being ‘discovered’ by accident. The venue’s soaring popularity had transformed its open mic nights into exclusive affairs. Prospective performers now faced a meticulous vetting process, enduring months of scrutiny and auditions to secure a coveted slot on stage.
Thankfully, I had the foresight to handle that detail right at the beginning of the summer. Although the process hadn’t been too cumbersome for me, especially once I forwarded them a clip of Colt showcasing his vocal prowess at Spark.
Colt surveyed the bustling line snaking around the block, his excitement evident in the way he did a small, excited bounce on the balls of his feet. As we moved in the direction of the line, I seized his hand and steered him toward the imposing bouncer stationed at the front entrance.
“What are you doing?” Colt hissed as we approached the burly, tattooed security guard.
“Name,” the bouncer demanded in a bored tone, suggesting he dealt with a constant stream of people attempting to sidestep the queue.
“Colton Ray. He’s part of tonight’s line up,” I responded.
Colt’s jaw practically hit the floor, but before he could unleash his anger on me, the bouncer efficiently scanned his list, nodded in acknowledgment, and granted us entry as he opened the burgundy velvet rope.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Colt’s voice dripped with irritation and he sounded pissed, though I sensed it would be a fleeting emotion. Sometimes, all he needed was a gentle nudge.
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me baby. You’re playing tonight.”
His response was lost to me as we pushed through the weighty front door, immersing ourselves in a sea of darkness illuminated by pulsating neon lights. The floor beneath my feet vibrated with the thumping bass emanating from the DJ’s speakers. The bar along the back wall was densely populated, the area appearing even more crowded with the vast number of bodies reflected against the mirrored backdrop. To the left of the bar and just before the presently vacant stage, the dance floor heaved with strangers grinding up on each other.
Intrigue held court with two distinct crowds: the live music enthusiasts who flocked late on Friday and Saturday nights, and during other times, it seamlessly transformed into a popular downtown nightclub.
Thankfully, the venue manager had provided me with detailed instructions on navigating the backstage labyrinth. Amid the pulsating crowd and deafening pandemonium, I’d be totally lost without that guidance. I took Colt’s hand once more, deftly maneuvering us through the undulating sea of partygoers. One of the benefits of towering over the crowd was the ability to part it like the Red Sea, and soon enough, we found ourselves ushered to a backstage lounge area, poised to await Colt’s upcoming timeslot.
Seated on a weathered, crimson sofa tucked away in a secluded corner, Colt’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “Is this some kind of joke?” he fumed.
“I mean, we do love to prank each other, but even I’m not committed enough to orchestrate all of this for a joke,” I teased. “And you should know by now, I’d never joke at your expense. Ever.”
