His Ex-Boyfriend Read online

  "Hey. Give it here."

  "Say what? This is my un-cigarette, not yours."

  "Keep your voice down,” the guitarist hissed. “Don't you see the security people? They're off-duty cops who need some extra money. They'll arrest you if they catch you."

  "Fuck off, honey. If I choose to smoke my antithesis-of-cigarette, it's none of your business."

  "Oh yes it is. I live with you and have to deal with the consequences. The notion that a drug user only hurts himself is libertarian pudding-brain bullshit. In a marriage, what's yours is mine. Gimme that." Jason made a grab.

  "You haven't married me, asshole," Rafe retorted, dancing aside. "I sure as hell don't remember any cake and bouquet, and you damn sure didn't carry me over any threshold. The closest we got to that was me hauling your drunken carcass into the bathroom to upchuck all that beer."

  "If you don't hand it over, I'm not sleeping with you for a week."

  "Really? You think you can last five minutes? The case of blueballs you have right now must be murder." Slyly, Rafe began to fan his chest with his shirttail.

  From behind them, they heard Denny yell, "I don't believe it! Malcolm fluffed some notes!"

  Rafe's face lost its smugness. Despite the mistakes, Alexis was still giving a monster of a performance. The singer was throwing himself all over the stage as if to crush every will to jelly. Then Malcolm fluffed some more notes. Rafe's breath caught, and Jason listened closely. Yes, Alexis sounded off, as if he were singing through clenched teeth.

  "We won!" Denny crowed.

  An angry curse burst from Rafe. He threw open the parking lot door and ran for his brother's car.

  "Don't leave without me," Jason called after him. A little worried, he saw Rafe climb inside the car and slam the door, but the student didn't leave. Shaking his head, Jason decided to give his boyfriend time to cool down.

  "Look at that," said Denny. "They're coming offstage already. They're not even playing an encore."

  "Damn, I've never seen Mellor look so pissed," Lang added. “This is going to be interesting.”

  "We'd better step back," Denny cautioned. “See the look on Sam's face? He's giving them a wide berth.”

  The fight started the instant Boxkite hit the wings. "What the hell was that?" Alexis yelled. "Do I have to use backing tapes because you can't be bothered to learn your part?"

  Malcolm's face was pained. "Lexi, it was just a couple of mistakes--"

  "We're not playing classical music here, Malcolm. It's damned easy stuff!" Alexis began to pace. "When was the last time you touched a guitar?"

  "I've been busy with the label, and--"

  "If you're professional enough to run a company, you can damn well be professional enough to practice for a concert!"

  Carmen stepped in. "All right, boys, break it up. We can survive a couple of flubbed notes. God knows we had enough of them in our early days."

  For a moment, the two men stood glaring at one another. Then Alexis swung around in contempt and stormed out through the parking lot doors.

  "Sorry about that," said a weary Malcolm to the bystanders.

  Jason followed the raging singer, then hesitated at the doors. He did not know he was standing in a pool of darkness, hidden between the stage lights and the halogen beams of the parking lot. The lights above the cars were clotted with insects mating and dying in the summer heat. Mellor stopped short at the sight of Rafe. The student was sitting in the passenger seat of Lang's car, his feet lolling on the dashboard, smoking, his hand swiping at the fluttering moths drawn by the burning tip of his joint. Realizing he had an audience, Rafe turned his head. Realizing who that audience was, he straightened, opened his car door, and slid over.

  The invitation was unmistakable. Jason was in shock.

  Boldly, Alexis climbed in. The singer didn't bother to shut the car door, so Jason had a clear view of what they did. Without a word, Alexis knelt on the seat and unzipped his trousers.

  Jason waited for a yell, an outcry, anything.

  Rafe leaned over and blew a wreath of warm smoke around the proffered organ. The guitarist shut his eyes in agony, knowing how good that must feel.

  Impatiently, Alexis pushed aside the hand with the joint and lifted the student's chin to the correct height. Then he jerked Rafe forward, impaling himself between the other's lips. Rafe's eyes were fixed on Alexis's, trying to find out what the other man wanted him to do, his mouth fawning, moving slowly up Alexis's cock.

  No, God, NO! It's the marijuana he's smoking, he's stoned, he doesn't know what he's doing! He can't realize--

  Jason's eyes were already welling tears.

  Alexis made an angry noise. He was glaring down at Rafe. He jerked the velvet shirt partway off the student, then, as if Rafe's tongue was beginning to affect him, his manner changed. His hands teased the shirt the rest of the way off with the same slowness as the sucking, baring the other's shoulders and arms inch by inch. Mellor's fingers dug greedily into Rafe's neck tendons and sank into his hair. Suddenly, the singer stopped and gestured. With Mellor's help, Rafe slid his own jeans off completely and spread his legs wide, leaning back on his elbows. For one moment Alexis lingered, exploring between the student's legs. Abruptly, the singer shoved himself in, with one deep, quick stab.

  A strangled gasp of pain echoed off the ceiling. Rafe was squeezing his eyes shut, wincing. He was still holding his joint and took a long pull from it as if to seek numbness. Then he lay back completely, turning his face aside.

  Jason was stunned. He could not comprehend the ease of Rafe's betrayal. The guitarist knew his lover was a fan of Alexis, but only now did he understand that Alexis came first for Rafe, even ahead of himself. He was watching his boyfriend surrender his soul, completely and willingly, to another man. Sickened, Jason watched the singer's hips move in short, jabbing glides, almost pulling out completely, then plunging back in.

  "You're biting your lip, now," Alexis said, low, "but you refuse to make a sound. That's wonderful. You'll endure any sort of pain for me. How long can I make your pain last? Shall we make it a game, a contest of wills?"

  There was no noise for several long moments, only the shadows moving across Mellor's back as he thrust, and the slight rocking of the car. Then Alexis chuckled. "I'm torturing you, yet you're smiling, and I haven't even touched that part of you. I'm so cruel." He closed his hand partway on Rafe's cock. The student gave a little cry. Instantly, Mellor let go. Rafe's fist punched the seatback in frustration, skinning his knuckles raw.

  Alexis's voice suddenly shook. "No, you don't!" the singer choked. "You--can't--take more than I--can. Oh, GOD. Nothing but defeat by beauty today," he moaned. His thumb brushed lightly along the raised line under Rafe's erection, stopping to pinch an edge of foreskin. In reaction, the student convulsed, spraying the windshield with sticky white droplets.

  Alexis went still, breathing hard, staring down at Rafe's sprawled body. Rafe lifted a hand to offer his joint, and Alexis snatched it from him, took a quick drag, and returned the joint with the cold courtesy of a nondrinker taking a sip of liquor. Slowly, he pulled himself out of Rafe's body, picked up the other's jeans, and wiped himself off on them. Then he climbed out of the car and zipped himself up in full view of Jason. A black velvet shirt was dangling from his hand. Casually, the singer took off his suitcoat, dress shirt, and tie; tossed them into the back of the car, and donned Rafe's shirt.

  Jason was openmouthed, listening for Rafe's scream of protest as his shirt was made into another's sexual trophy. None came. The student lay unmoving, a wasted expression on his face, his legs hoisted apart, the joint still burning between his fingertips.

  For a long moment Alexis was silent, as if savoring the memory. He was facing away from the car. "What's your name?" the singer asked without turning around.

  "Rafe Le--"

  "I'm not interested in your surname, kid, just your first. I might want to see more of you. What's your phone number?"

  Rafe spoke the digits. His
voice had a hesitant, almost timid quality.

  "Write it down," Mellor ordered. From somewhere, Rafe found a pen and paper. He sat up and handed the slip through the open car door to the singer. Alexis studied him. "You really are very good-looking," Mellor commented, "as well as suggestible. You didn't have to smoke that joint, you know. I would have fucked you anyway."

  Rafe stared down at the floor of the car.

  "Do you usually smoke pot?"

  "Uh, no. Alexis, please--what--what was in that capsule?"

  What capsule? What's he talking about? Jason wondered.

  Alexis gave a quick smile. "Just aspirin. I thought you'd need it, after the way I fucked you. I knew you'd be sore. The pot was real, though. Sometimes it helps if your inhibitions are lowered. It makes the penetration less painful, especially if it's your first time. But you already have a boyfriend, correct?"

  Rafe's yes was a whisper.

  "Do you live here in Los Angeles?"

  "Yes."

  "Whose car is this?"

  "My brother's."

  Alexis took another long, lingering, silent look at Rafe. Rafe seemed to sober a little, hugging his bare shoulders.

  He must be thinking this is a strange conversation to be having while completely nude, Jason thought.

  "Give me the keys," said Alexis.

  Rafe handed them over, and Jason couldn't believe it. Rafe had just surrendered the keys to his brother's car? Lang was going to murder him.

  "I'm taking you out." Alexis climbed behind the wheel. "Put your pants on, kid."

  "Um, wait a second. Where are we going?"

  "You don't need to know."

  "But I have to pick up my friend!"

  "He can catch another ride. Oh yeah, we don't need these anymore." The singer threw something white out of the car window as he started the engine. The tires squealed and spun.

  "Rafe!" Jason shouted, running after. "DON'T!"

  He never had a chance. The car shot by too fast. Jason felt like the sheriff in a Western, trying to grab the train, watching as the villain escaped with the girl and the money. He fell, landing on his knees. Something lay on the ground nearby, where Alexis had thrown it. Trembling, Jason picked it up.

  He was holding Rafe's underwear. The guitarist screamed aloud and hurled the briefs aside. When he could, he stumbled out onto the street and hailed a taxi. Once home, he kicked everything Rafe owned out into the hallway, trying to smash as much of it as possible.

  Half a bottle of cheap wine later, he'd called Amanda, and proposed.

  Two years later, the guitarist lifted his head. His ex-boyfriend was still talking on the phone. "That's a great idea, Lexi-bear," Rafe was saying.

  Lexi-bear? What the fuck? He never called me J-bear.

  "Squid pizza for dinner's cool. I just love biting into tentacles and hot cheese and pulling them as far as I can, especially with you on the other end of the slice." Rafe snickered. "A squid flick, too? You found one with a sexy guy being suckered? Oh wow, that's great. I didn't know they made films like that. Giant, gay-man-loving octopods are so my thing. See you in an hour, Honeybear."

  He's changed, thought Jason. He always used to gag at anything affectionate. Did Alexis end up creating the boyfriend I wanted, but never got? This notion rattled the guitarist. He studied his surroundings. I could never compete with Mellor's glamor. I'm just too ordinary. If only Malcolm had played better that night, and Alexis's ego hadn't needed a sexual salve, I might still have a boyfriend instead of a wife. Wait, no. Our breakup was the sanest thing we ever did. Rafe's turned into a bunny-hugger and me into a doting husband. We're both better people for it.

  "You seemed so awed by him in the beginning,” Jason commented.

  "Uh, yeah. Then we had our first fight."

  "Was it like any of ours?"

  "Not exactly. I didn't realize that no one fights with Alexis Mellor. He reduces everyone to a sniveling dishrag. But I didn't know that Lexi respects those who stand up to him. He respects Mullerin because you refuse to be his doormat."

  "He does?" Jason asked, surprised.

  Rafe nodded.

  "So what was your fight about?"

  "The stupidest damn thing. In other words, Mr. Bunny. We were going out to a nice restaurant, and he wanted to take the rabbit along. He had Mr. Bunny in a baby pack on his back, all swaddled in a baby blanket and wearing a sunbonnet. I said no fucking way, and added a few more things about his inordinate attachment to Mr Bunny. Now, no one insults Mr. Bunny, either. Lexi was excessively pissed. He was on the phone to Carl in no time, telling Carl to throw me out. So I grabbed Mr. Bunny, climbed out on the fire escape, and threatened to jump to my death, taking Mr. Bunny with me.

  "Naturally, Lexi panicked and called the cops. They came and pounded on the door, but couldn't get in because I said I'd jump if Lexi unlocked it. Lexi was really upset, running around the room yelling, calling Carl to bring in a helicopter. Mr. Bunny and I were balancing on the railing, and I was shouting to Lexi that he was just being a selfish bastard. Lexi said it wasn't Mr. Bunny's fault he was only a stuffed rabbit, and burst into tears. I said I agreed, but I was just a human being, and I wanted dinner alone with my boyfriend. By this time one of the cops had climbed out onto the fire escape below me with a bullhorn." Rafe paused to peer into the soda glass. "This needs more ice cream. It's turned into fizzy soup."

  "Go on," Jason urged, enthralled.

  "Anyway, the cop negotiated with me, and he was really good at it. Within an hour Lexi and I were sitting in our dinner jackets at Nobu, and Mr. Bunny was home being babysat by a cop. The thing that really made me give in, though, was that Carl showed up with the helicopter, and one of his army friends had a rocket-propelled grenade launcher aimed right at me. I knew the cops had to show some interest in my welfare, but Carl didn't, so that ended the standoff. Lexi's been a lot more reasonable ever since."

  "You're right. That wasn't like any of our fights," said Jason in wonder.

  "Yeah. Except for the makeup sex. You and I used to get off on that. The fight for dominance, then the sexual submission of the loser afterwards. We were a pair of sick fucks, Jason."

  The guitarist felt his throat go dry. Rafe was perfectly correct. But Jason had enjoyed winning those fights, and sometimes, even losing. So had Rafe.

  "More popcorn?" Rafe asked as he rinsed out the soda glass in the sink.

  "No, thanks.” Jason shifted on his stool. "Well, thanks for the popcorn and ice cream. I have to be getting home."

  "You're welcome. Thanks for returning Mr. Bunny."

  Rafe escorted him to the front door, scooping up the rabbit on the way. Together they stood in the doorway.

  Jason couldn't even move his lips to say goodbye. He'd never even said 'goodbye' to Rafe the first time. Confused and embarrassed, the guitarist found himself bending down to kiss Mr. Bunny on the forehead. "Goodbye," he whispered to the rabbit. He straightened and left without seeing the shock in Rafe's eyes. The door shut behind the guitarist.

  "FUCK!"

  Mr. Bunny hit the wall so hard the ricochet sent the rabbit bouncing all over the room. The plushie landed upside down on a couch. Rafe was staring at the door, shaking, his mouth drawn in a rictus. After a moment, he sat down on the couch, setting the rabbit upright on his lap. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bunny," he said mournfully. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just . . . jealous."

  Chapter 4

  A thumb clicked the voice recorder on. Jason gave his companion a wry look. “Do you have to do that?”

  “Hey, I keep a diary, okay? It was something I picked up from the military.” Carl spoke into the recorder. "Log update. Mullerin has just completed its performance at the California State Fair, and the roadies are packing the equipment. Next mission: To have 'fun.' Personnel: (8) The Boss, The Boss's Kibble, Bassfish, Dinkster, Feedback, Prodigy, Mr. Rabbit, and myself. Equipment: (8) pairs sunglasses, (7) free ride passports (Mr. Rabbit allowed in free). Mission update: Goal not yet achieved. Reason for
mission lag: Low morale of various personnel. To wit, (A) Prodigy sulking, claims 'fairs are for little kids,' not chart-topping geniuses like himself, (B) Bassfish, for the same reason listed above, (C) Feedback, in distracted state because: (1a) wife at home like an unpopped balloon, (1b) ex-boyfriend lurking; (D) Boss's Kibble, in distracted state, for reason (1b) above. Corrective action taken: Threatened to kick asses of various personnel just mentioned. Reasonable compliance gained. Other problems: Feedback almost robbed by impudent fantard, who was using cotton candy as a distraction. Corrective action taken: Threatened fantard. Received cotton candy on nose. Correctively chased fan behind corndog stand, but lost sight of the nitwit.”

  The recorder shut off. Jason was plucking blotches of cotton candy off Carl's face and eating them.

  "Whose stupid idea was this?" said Sam. Short and blocky, the drummer was Mullerin's youngest member, and the most musically gifted of them all. He was doing double duty in Boxkite because Al Sleeisk, Boxkite's original drummer, had quit to raise pineapple kush in Chile.

  "Mine," Alexis replied brightly. The singer was dressed in a white summer suit and curly-haired wig. Most of Mullerin, with one notable exception, had changed out of their stage togs and donned nondescript pants and T-shirts, hoping to pass unnoticed by the fairgoers.

  Why the hell did Alexis have to invite himself along? thought Jason. I suppose he couldn't resist a day at the fair. Mellor had been raised in an orphanage, and the guitarist had heard about this lack of proper childhood manifesting itself in peculiar ways from some of the other members of Boxkite Airscrew.

  “I'd have more fun licking a dumpster clean,” Sam added. “Why don't we just leave? We've finished our set.”

  “But I want to have fun,” Alexis replied. Mellor was in one of his playful moods, which meant unpredictable and crazy. Of course, Jason had dealt with Denny's nuttiness for years, but his bandmate had never been as scary or outrageous as Mellor. This is horrible. Alexis's appointed himself master of ceremonies, and Denny admires him too much to argue about it.