by Lee Minxton
(10/12/05)

"So, Jordan, what's it like touring with the world-famous, obscenely talented, and scruffily handsome rock legend Alex Langham?"

They were half-crocked in some dive in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Alex held a longneck like a microphone and pointed it towards his roadie. Jordan smiled widely and took the bait.

"Well, Barbara, I'd have to say he's just a regular guy. Aside from the gorgeous women screaming for him in every town, you wouldn't be able to tell him from any other beanpole redheaded geek practicing 'Stairway To Heaven' in your local guitar shop on a Friday night."

Alex slammed the bottle down, and the two dissolved in laughter at their running gag. After a few years of playing local clubs, Alex had finally managed to scrape together the resources for a tour. Jordan MacKenzie, newly burdened with a music degree he had no use for, came to the first rehearsal and offered his services as a guitar tech. Within three months, the two had become inseparable. The day's travels had been torturous, and they welcomed the chance to blow off some steam.

"I wouldn't worry, Jordan. This business is rough. I'd bet that Alex would give all he had for someone to hold on to." Alex mockingly batted his lashes at Jordan, who rolled his eyes and searched for the bartender.

The show was at a little club in Detroit. Alex, feeling self-conscious that his wardrobe lacked pizzazz in the land of Iggy Pop, had been taken shopping by his sympathetic manager. Jordan was invited along for moral support. Alex augmented his assortment of jeans and T-shirts with a few sparkly tops, and, at Jordan's delighted insistence, a pair of black leather pants. He'd felt like some alien impostor in the dressing room, but once he heard the band warm up he was ready. He strapped on a Stratocaster and went through the set list, throwing in a thrashy version of T-Rex's "Jeepster" for kicks.

Jordan was so entranced as he watched from the wings, he almost forgot when it was time for Alex to switch tunings. He ran onstage to hand the sweaty rock star his Les Paul. In a spontaneous act of appreciation, Alex gave his buddy a quick peck on the lips. A few girls yelled their approval.

Why was Jordan just standing there? He had done his job. Alex had the guitar now, and looked like some beautiful androgynous beast who had time-traveled from 1973. Jordan, on the other hand, knew what he was: a guy in a ratty orange T-shirt who knew how to tune a guitar, and not much else. Get off the stage, he told himself. This ain't your show.

But maybe it was. Alex had a strange look on his face, and turned to the crowd. "You like that? Well, then. Give the fans what they want..."

The next few seconds were an eternity. Jordan felt a hand touch the back of his neck with shocking tenderness. He stood immobile as Alex tilted his head and slowly opened his voluptuous mouth. His own lips parted out of surprise, but also due to something else that he didn't care to name just then. Right before he felt the crush, he convinced himself that Alex must be drunk. Once he tasted Alex's inquisitive tongue against his own, Jordan knew that they were both sober.

Alex drew back to see Jordan blushing terribly. The crowd was silent, save for a few feminine sighs. Jordan waved sheepishly as he quickly left the stage. Alex strapped on the Les Paul, and cheers erupted as the crowd recognized the opening notes of Alex Langham's most notorious song, the show-closing "Lover."

Alex attacked the song with a bravado that stunned the hapless roadie. Alex's tousled red hair was damp at the forehead and temples, flying as he shook his head back and forth. He raised his hand like an executioner about to give the final blow, and for a second Jordan didn't know what to expect. As Alex tore into his guitar solo, he looked and sounded like a flame-haired resurrection of Mick Ronson on some sort of deranged spree.

I guess all rock stars need pansexual appeal, Jordan thought. Alex certainly had it: with his full lips parted and long hair framing his bright blue eyes, he could pass for an attractive, if rather gamine, woman from the neck up. On the other hand, his sinewy arms were tensing with the brute force of his music, and those pants...those goddamned leather pants... Jordan stood powerless to the straining in his jeans.

To hell with it. The other guys could take down the equipment. He was going to the tour bus, where he could get some privacy and calm himself down, maybe take a shower. Jordan turned around decisively and charged out the back door. He must have hallucinated the whole thing -- he could have sworn Alex just sang something about being his lover.

As usual, Jordan's timing was off. He'd just managed to get into the tour bus bathroom, struggle out of his clothes, and stand under the tap when someone else turned on the faucet. He looked straight ahead, hoping he was imagining things, then turned his head to find one damp, naked rock star smiling at him. Damn. Why hadn't he locked the bathroom door?

"Hey, Alex. Do me a favor and don't look at me, okay?"

"Too late for that. Don't worry about it. Right now I'm guilty of that occupational hazard myself, thanks to those goddamned leather pants."

Jordan had to smile when he heard that. Well, if Alex had seen him...before he could stop himself, he turned to face his friend.

How often does this happen, he wondered. Two supposedly straight guys, soaking wet and afflicted with gigantic erections, checking each other out. It occurred to him that each had caught the other looking before, but usually somebody else was there to break the spell, to snap a towel at Jordan in the dressing room or swat Alex with a pillow by the bunk beds. Now there was nothing between them but thin sheets of water droplets, and they tried in vain to avoid each other's eyes as they stared brazenly. Alex was slender but more muscular than Jordan had expected, with freckles dappling his broad shoulders. His nipples were eager and red, standing out violently against his pale, smooth chest, which flushed slightly now. His abdomen heaved gently with the strain of half-held breath, and the tendons in his thighs were clenching, bearing the tension in his beautiful cock. Feeling more exposed than his own eternally blushing skin, Jordan looked into Alex's face. Alex's eyes met his, and the two shared an uneasy gaze. Jordan's heart sank when he saw Alex turn and walk away.

Jordan sighed inwardly, blinking his blurring eyes. His scopophilic tendencies had caused him to lose some ill-advised game of peekaboo with his best friend in the world, who happened to be a budding superstar. Jordan would never live this down. He'd lie awake all night thinking of excuses; now, he just wanted to wash it all away. He turned the shower spray up and concentrated on its sensations, closing his eyes so tightly that tears rolled down his cheeks. That water felt so good...it was feather-light against his erect nipples and it teased down his belly, swirling sensuously over his inner thighs before licking...wait a second.

Almost afraid to look, Jordan opened his brown eyes and slowly cast them downward. He saw Alex kneeling before him, the top of his head moving with reverent kisses down Jordan's shaft, a spent condom wrapper drowning on the floor. Alex turned his eyes up quizzically and, seeing nothing but wonder, took that as his cue to take Jordan into his mouth. The water beating against Jordan's back was turning cold and the floor was scraping Alex's knees. Neither man noticed. Jordan sighed ecstatically, fearing the tabloid headline: POP STAR CAUGHT SUCKING OFF STARRY-EYED ROADIE IN TOUR BUS SCANDAL. The thought aroused him even more. Alex's rhythm was steady and sure. Jordan was just about to lose his mind when he felt Alex disengage.

"What's wrong?" Jordan gasped, hoping that he sounded concerned rather than keenly disappointed.

Alex couldn't keep his voice steady, even with all those years of vocal training. "I want you inside me. Do you want to?"

Jordan nodded with the last bit of strength he had.

"All right." Alex stood up slowly and paced to the medicine cabinet, grabbed a few extra condoms and a tube of lubricant. What guardian angel had put them there, he did not know. (Perhaps that's what his manager had meant by "a fully-stocked tour bus.") Then, he led Jordan by the hand to a cozy area of the shower cubicle and reclined, stretching himself out with pantherlike grace. "Don't worry. I had the others get lost tonight, I told them that I felt exhausted and needed some quiet. I did all the meet-and-greet crap before I went on. You and I have all the time in the world."

Jordan let that knowledge sink in. "Did you know I was here?"

"I hoped you were."

Jordan bent down to kiss Alex, still in awe at where those lips had just been. His mouth traveled over Alex's flesh, lingering at his irresistible garnet nipples as he felt insistent hands kneading his back, cupping his ass, fingering him. Jordan barely had the chance to run his tongue over Alex's succulent cock before he felt him raise his thighs urgently.

He told himself that it would be okay. All he had to do was look into Alex's eyes for guidance. He had held back for so long...the next few minutes would be comparatively easy.

In the harsh fluorescent light, the vision of the glistening Jordan sheathing and lubing himself up would have taken anyone's breath away. Alex panted as Jordan's slick fingers teased him. They both gasped when the tip of Jordan's cock nuzzled against the opening. Slowly, Jordan felt Alex's muscles relaxing around him, taut but yielding, as the couple leaned painstakingly into their union, inch by inch. Soon enough, Jordan had his cock in up to the hilt.

Grateful that he had managed not to tear his man in two, Jordan bent down and languidly licked the rim of Alex's ear. His breath came like shards of pleasure as Alex nibbled on the delicate skin of his neck. Alex gripped Jordan's shoulders tightly. As Jordan began to grind his hips, he suddenly understood what Alex had been saying in the bar in Ypsilanti.

"You can hold on to me, Alex, as hard as you need to," Jordan intoned, startled at the ferocity of his echoing benediction. "God, I love you so much..."

"I love you, too," Alex groaned, his full pelvis rocking softly in counterpoint as he felt Jordan caress his face. Jordan's lubed free hand enclosed Alex's cock, stroking in time with their quickening breathing. "Jordan...Jordan, I'll never let you go. Not...ever."

Three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, ten minutes, and forty-seven seconds' worth of unbearable longing wrenched them at last. Jordan was certain that the endless spasm would kill him in its triumph. Meanwhile, as pleasure engulfed him from the inside out, Alex found himself screaming new notes that he had thought himself incapable of singing.

Alex sighed sharply, enjoying the momentary crush as Jordan collapsed on top of him.

"Alex," Jordan exclaimed, as if he'd just found the answer to some pressing question that had troubled them both. After all, he had.

Jordan nestled his cheek against the hollow of Alex's collarbone. Alex kissed the crown of his soulmate's head, smiling as he envisioned their future. "We have all the time in the world," he reminded Jordan.

Our permanent collection of exotica