Chapter 19 The Tour Begins

Simon:

All of a sudden, it's the night before we leave. Agatha has taken charge, so Harvey, Dev and I are stuck at dinner (with her) going over last-minute travel plans until well after nine. It's exciting that the tour is starting, of course, but I'm feeling all this dread. The tour is good for my career… the chance of a lifetime. But it will take me away from Baz, and we have been together every night for almost four months. And I'm really feeling the separation anxiety for the first time. I can't wait to go home and spend our last few hours together. I want to glom onto him and hold him every minute I can.

I tell myself there's no need to feel frantic… he can join me in three weeks, we won't even be apart that long. But there's a part of me that fantasizes about just calling the whole thing off and staying home. What if the band could do that with no one mad at us and no harm done… we all just decide to say "eh" and stick with our day jobs. Sigh. Baz and I could spend the whole week in bed.

But of course it's too late for that. We've cashed our checks, signed contracts, and this company has spent money on us. Fans have already bought advance tickets… we're locked in. And that's good… I'm a singer and a songwriter. Guys like me dream about getting a chance like this — a tour and a record deal. This is just stage fright, a panic thing. I need to push the panic down and do what I promised… what I wanted.

But: Baz. In a few short months we went from crushes to lovers… to engaged. And he's everything to me. But this last week has been busy and he's been distant and quiet, like there's something wrong, like he's already fading into the background. I know he's dealing with fears and insecurities of his own, and over and over again I've reassured him that everything's fine. But now I'm feeling the disquiet myself.

It's weird — Baz has known this was going to suck for a while now, while I've been looking at that worry like it's his personal problem, but now I get it… missing him is going to be a real thing. Up till now the tour was an abstraction, off into the future. But now it's here and there's no going back.

So with this anxious state of mind, I come back to the apartment. I want to go straight for him and take his hand, so we can make a beeline to the bed, but he's puttering around the kitchen, making scones, of all things. "I want to give you something to take along. A little treat from home," he says. Fucking adorable bastard. But of course he doesn't know how to make scones and when he's done the kitchen's a mess and the scones are flat and hard. Baz looks like he's going to cry, like he failed me.

"Never mind that, darling. It's okay. I'm in no danger of starving, right? Let's go to bed."

"Well, it was a silly idea, anyway. Wait till Martha sees what I've done to the kitchen."

"It was a sweet idea. What am I going to do without you looking after me these next few weeks?"

"Agatha will look after you, I suppose."

"That is NOT the same at all. She's shit for taking care of me. Doesn't know me at all. And the worst thing is she's 100% not you."

"Good answer, Snow. Stick with that attitude the next three weeks and we'll be fine."

We get ready for bed and scoot under the covers. My luggage stands, packed and lonely, by the door. I pull Baz into me and hold him close, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He smells so great.

"Baz, I really, really don't want to leave you."

He sighs. "I know, Snow. But everybody's counting on you, now. And I'll be fine, here. Your being away will give me a chance to catch up on things I've been distracted from."

"I guess I should be happy you're thinking about the good things that will happen when I'm away."

"Well, you don't want me to be all sad and slouching around, do you?"

"No, but…"

"Actually," he says, and I can hear mischief in his voice, "this will be a great opportunity to get reacquainted with old friends. Especially the attractive old friends. They have been sorely neglected, of late."

"Baz-!"

"I think I should also spend the next three weeks really getting in touch with my body… maybe walking around the flat nude? And stretching and posing a lot. When you're not here."

"Bastard."

At that I roll over the top of him and prop myself up a little, so I can look down at his face — his beautiful face. I take it in, all the familiar planes and angles. That little bump on the edge of his nose, the arch of his eyebrows, the sweep of his hair down the two sides of his widow's peak. His eyes that know me and adore me. I lean down to kiss him and he answers me, as always, with warm lips. And just like that we slide into the not-talking part of the evening… the best part.

The part we live for.

I run a hand through his long dark hair. I love his hair. It's so shiny and soft and smells just like him. It's sexy, too— sometimes he hides his eyes behind a wave of bangs and I have to push it out of the way to see what he's up to. I love that I get to do that… chase down his eyes, make him look at me. I love that I get to lay my hands on him and nuzzle up against his neck with my nose, like I'm doing now. And he likes it… he answers every touch I give him by moving closer, sighing with pleasure, or reaching for me with his sensitive artist's hands.

I'm running the back side of my fingers gently down his face, feeling the hint of tomorrow's whiskers. Touching his mouth. I kiss his lips and marvel at how varied our kisses have become… We slide our lips against one another's, sometimes slow and sweet, sometimes fast and hard. Baz makes me work for his tongue. I only get it when he's aroused, and then, watch out— he's wicked.

I think back to that first night we kissed, when Baz was drunk and pulled me into that alley. He pushed me up against the brick wall and pressed his body against mine… I had to look up in order to see his eyes. Even though he was a tall, dark, dangerous man I hardly knew, I kissed him.

And that meant something, because that was the first guy I really kissed. When I was with Harvey, we didn't kiss. We basically just masturbated each other, which is an intimate thing, too, but somehow kissing would have been… too much. The kind of thing people with romantic feelings do, or so I thought...

I can't imagine being with Baz and NOT kissing him. But I'm older now, more comfortable with myself and was romantically attracted to Baz from the very beginning. Things developed differently with Harvey, much to everyone's satisfaction.

But why am I kissing Baz and thinking about Robin Harvey? Luckily Baz isn't a mind reader. I return my attention to my beautiful, sexy man, who I love more than anyone, but now I have a Harvey-inspired idea in my head: what would Baz think if I got myself off at the same time as I wanked him? Gripping us both with the same hand, pumping our slick cocks together? Would he let me do that? Harvey and I did that kind of thing and it was right nice. I can't think how heavenly it would be with BAZ.

I think he'll do it. If I ask him right.

"Baz, baby, can we try something?"

He's kissing my shoulder, running a hand down my chest to my waist. "Uh oh. That's your excited voice."

"We could do it laying down, but I'd rather sit up to do it. So I can see you better," I say, and I know I'm blushing.

Baz's eyes widen as I continue, but he's already starting to sit up. "We'll have to kneel. And face each other," I say, and I can hardly believe myself. Luckily, when I'm bossy in bed, Baz is obedient (I think I get away with stuff like that because I don't try it very often).

"Snow, what are you cooking up in that brain of yours?"

"Pass the lube, Baz. You're going to like this."

We might be both desperate for an orgasm at this point but I still want to go slow. I want to make sure he's enjoying everything. I want to spend the next three weeks wanking to the memories of this night with Baz — our cocks together in my hand.

I start by squeezing a hefty amount of lube onto my hand and scoot closer to Baz. That's when I take his cock and lube it slowly, paying attention to every part of him, especially the head. I hear Baz's breath catching and rub my thumb gently a few more times around his tip.

But before I get to my own cock I hear Baz say, "Let me, love."

He takes my hand with his own and applies lube all over my cock, squeezing just the way I like it…

Baz:

If Simon thinks that I'm going to let him have all the fun the night before he leaves me for three weeks, he's sorely mistaken. My hunger for him won't lessen over the course of a three week separation— it will only get worse. I need these good memories. And despite everything I'm still a bit worried and nervous. I want Simon to remember me, to have something to think about through the lonely nights at the motel…

I'm working him up into quite a frenzy, using both his hand and mine.

"Baz… Fuck…"

I kiss Simon's jaw and keep going down to his neck, never letting go of his cock.

Simon:

What Baz is doing to my cock with his hand through mine is incredible. He's usually not this dominant with me, but I like it. I want him to keep wanking my cock with our hands and I want to wank his too.

It was the right idea to do this upright and facing each other. The light's off but our eyes are adjusted to the dark and I can see him perfectly. And he IS that… perfect. Long lean abs and smooth pale skin that glows at me in the darkness. His cock is flushed and darker, and he has the bangs from one side of his head tucked behind his ear… the fringe on the other side falls down in front of his face. He's looking down at what he's doing, but every now and then he looks up at my face. It always turns him on to see me, too. He'll reach forward and gently tug at my lower lip with his teeth, run a hand down my chest (maybe over a nipple), or let out a low growl. Seeing him like this is so fucking hot… I'm moaning his name. I can't help it.

I lean forward and kiss his lush full lips. While I'm doing that I reach for his cock, which catches Baz by surprise. As I trace my fingers around the tender spot, he almost hisses at me — from surprise and pleasure. (I know all his hisses by now.)

We work on each other, me with one hand on Baz's cock, and our two hands on mine. "Oh… so good…" Baz is gasping through kisses. "Simon… love…"

Still, I want our cocks to be touching, I want to feel that friction too. I want us in this moment to share everything…

I adjust so that our cocks are touching side to side and move Baz's hand together with my own on us both.

"So much... better…" I whisper in his mouth through shuddered breaths.

I get in return a soft and frantic, "Oh...yeah…"

Baz:

Simon is quite the inventor in the bedroom. You'd never think that, from looking at him — boyish, almost shy… He's a demon in disguise, with a wicked and erotic mind…

The feeling of us together, our bodies, our cocks and our hands— I'm losing myself in this, in Simon. I forget the insecurities and the worries and there's nothing but this moment of ecstasy and happiness. I'll spend the next three weeks pleasuring myself to this memory, and by the way Simon is looking — so will he. He's gasping my name and my praises.

"Baz… you're so hot…so hot…"

But when he says, "My beautiful fiancé..." I almost cry from happiness. I kiss Simon and don't stop until I'm out of breath, like a teenager…

Simon whispers again, "My fiancé…"

Oh, he knows exactly what to say and how to seduce me, heart and cock...

Simon:

I love the feeling of Baz's cock against mine. We fit like a hand to a glove, like two puzzle pieces — effortless and natural…

Baz keeps gasping my name and I'm getting closer to exploding all over us. I think he is too; the kisses are getting sloppier and his breathing more abrupt.

As a singer I'm happy to say that I can hold my breath a bit better than Baz can. I release his lips so he can get some air and settle instead on his neck, kissing it and moaning softly into his ear. Then I blow a few puffs of air and Baz shivers from that, (he likes that a lot.) It turns him on like crazy. I want him to come hard.

A few broken noises are slipping from his sweets lips before he all but trembles against me — coming with a soft "Simon…"

I'm not far behind, I groan "love…" and spill over the both of us, his belly not excluded. My aim seems to have been way off.

As we come back from our high I trace my finger on his stomach.

"That's what comes from wanking with such a gorgeous fiancé — it's impossible to aim right, " I say with a laugh.

Baz chuckles, "Sorry for the inconvenience, love." Then he kisses me, spreading the mess more.

"Oh, I might forgive you, this time."

"So generous." He leans his forehead against mine a moment. "That was really something."

"You going to remember me when I'm gone?"

"Yes, if not outright obsess over you." He kisses the tip of my nose and then cups my cheeks with his hands, leaning forward to kiss me.

"How about a shower?"

We get up and walk toward the bathroom.

"What time is Agatha picking you up?"

"Seven. But I should probably get up at 5:30 because she's picking me up at MY flat. Apparently she's under the impression I live THERE."

"Whose fault is that, Simon?"

"Yeah, yeah."

I grab Baz's hand and give it a squeeze. "I am going to be thinking about what we just did for a long time, Baz. It was so fucking hot. I just hope I manage to sing on this tour and not spend all my time wanking to the memory of you… naked and hard."

"Yeah, singing would be good, Simon."

We shower quickly, so we can return to the comfort of bed. Baz finishes before me and let's me have the shower to myself, as I've decided to go ahead and wash my hair, too. I use the time to myself to think. As I finish and dry off (Baz is already down the hall), I feel tears welling up behind my eyes.

"Baz…" I call.

"Yes, love?"

"I hate this, being away from you," I admit. Baz comes back over and wraps his arms around me. For a moment I feel guilty asking him to comfort me, when he's just as sad as me.

"Me too, Simon. But it's only three weeks, I'll see you very soon." Baz kisses my forehead. I know he's only keeping high spirits for my benefit because I can see his eyes shine with unshed tears.

Baz always puts me first. I want to do the same. I don't want to hide us, I want to give him everything he deserves, starting with my love.
I kiss him deep and with feeling, trying to convey everything I can't say at the moment, (I don't want to make promises I might not be able to back up yet.)

Baz:

Seeing Simon this way — vulnerable just as I am makes me think that he's just as nervous as me. Not that I want him to be… of course not. But the insecure part of me is somehow appeased now… Simon will miss me. He won't be looking for his next conquest while on the tour… I know that deep inside, now.

When he kisses me, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and feel my tears coming to the surface. Before I even know it — we're both crying through the kiss…
"It's going to be alright, love," I say, but then (just to be contrary to my own words) I start sobbing.

Simon:

"I want you to come with me, " I plead with Baz, though we both know that it's not him who's prevented that, it's me.

"I know, love. I'll come as soon as possible, as soon as my visit won't interfere with your career," Baz reassures me.

"As soon as Agatha leaves," I say, because she's the one who can tattle on me to her uncle and ruin everything the guys and I have worked for.

"Yes. You call and I'll come right away," Baz says reassuringly.

"Promise?"

"Of course, love. In three weeks I'm going to haunt your doorstep like a crazy stalker," Baz says, and that makes us both laugh, for a little while…

"It feels like forever," I eventually admit and Baz holds me closer to him in lieu of a response.

Baz:

I'm trying to stay strong for Simon, but it's not easy. What a waste, to spend our last night together crying… no.

Instead, I find my way to Simon's lips and kiss him for as long as I can before pulling away breathless.

I want us share tender moments, touch, and talk for as long as we can.

Simon:

Laying in bed, snuggled into Baz, I whisper, "I love you so much."

He answers, "Simon, darling. Only the gods know how much I love you."

And I feel perfect happiness.

He will come to me on the tour and we will be together very soon. I close my eyes, breathe out, and let myself feel how all is well. We fall asleep to the rise and fall of our chests as we nestle in each other's arms.

Agatha:

I'm glad I'm the one driving the boys to their first gig. Simon is a terrible morning person. When we pick him up at his apartment, he looks tired and dazed. He piles into the van and doesn't say much. I wait for him to fall asleep instantly in the front seat, next to me, but instead he leans his head against the window and stares bleakly at the passing trees and houses through half-lowered eyelids. Eventually he falls back to sleep.

Definitely not a morning person.

It's still dark outside. I love driving at the crack of dawn. I have a cup of coffee (French vanilla cappuccino) and I'm driving this carload of good-looking guys to their first big show. I did that for them… I made that happen. Someday Simon will appreciate it properly.

I look at him, sleeping with his jacket rumpled up under his head like a pillow, snoring lightly, mouth open. He has the nicest sloping nose and he looks so young right now… like he's barely had time to be away from his mother. I'll have to take care of him, then (the thought makes me smile). I glance up at the mirror and see Robin on his phone (is he playing a game or texting?) and Dev wearing headphones, eyes shut.

My boys :).

Simon:

Every day it's a new place and a new crowd, but the same basic set of songs. We start to get into a routine, and it helps we've had so much practice with regular gigs, playing every week at the coffee shop. That on top of years spent practicing in Harvey's garage have us sounding pretty good and familiar with a variety of playing conditions.

The crowds love us. They look a lot like us, too — young and working class. I think they like what we sing about, and that we talk like regular blokes on stage. Once I'm up there, I'm not moping anymore. I'm back to life, talking and singing and smiling to the crowd. Dev and Harvey and I have an easy banter.

It's when we're done and I'm alone that the homesickness sneaks back. The first few days in motels were actually kind of interesting, if not fun… different food and then maybe a cocktail or two, knowing that I can sleep the next day on the way to whatever town we play next (the guys are starting to give me shit about never taking a turn driving). Agatha is kind of like our bossy kid sister, though she can be funny, too, and is starting to learn how to grin. She's wearing her hair piled high up on her head in a messy bun and letting her guard down a little. I like her that way.

Agatha's alright. She actually seems to be taking her job as our stage manager seriously. She makes sure we're there when she talks to the venue owners, so we see how it's done. And so far there haven't been any unpleasant surprises; it's all been pretty much as expected.

But it's surprising how fast it gets old. After about a week I'm having sentimental thoughts about not just Baz but the comforts of Baz's flat… he's got a really nice bed and apparently now I'm spoiled for it. I judge every inn we hole up in by comparing it with our set-up at Baz's — the good sheets, posh mattress, and nice-smelling duvet. The inns and motels of Kent have nothing near as nice.

But it hasn't been as lonely as I thought. When I'm alone in my room, wherever that is, I can text Baz. And he generally comes up with a quick (snarky) answer. I beg him for photos of himself and he'll send me close-ups of his nose or his shoes. One time he sent me a picture of him from his art site, one where he has the Maleficent horns sprouting out of his head and looks like a sour-faced demon. That caught me by surprise and was actually right hilarious.

He teases me but he never says goodbye without letting me say something soft and naughty (or tender) to him. I think he kind of lives for that, the git. I certainly do.

So I should be happy as hell. I should be having the time of my life with the guys. But I'm not really spending a lot of time with them… and Dev and Harvey start to notice. Harvey actually says something about it to me, the second week we're out.

"Agatha says you're not feeling the best?"

"She's heard me sniffle a few times and I told her I had a cold. I'm alright, though. Just don't want to get stuck taking her out sight-seeing and what-not."

"Are you avoiding us, too?"

"No… don't mean to. Guess I'm just getting used to things and like relaxing with my phone in my room."

"Uh huh. Well, why don't you stay up tonight and hang out with us at the bar? We could play darts or go for a walk on the boardwalk."

"Nah. I'm feeling kind of tired. Think I'll call it a night."

"Simon. You can't be tired every night. What's going on with you?"

"Dunno. Maybe I am coming down with something."

"I think that's bullshit, Simon. What's wrong? Who are you on your phone with when you're in your room?"

I'm kind of surprised Harvey is being so direct with all this. It's not really like him. But I decide I might as well tell him.

"I just started a new relationship, that's all. With a really cool guy. And I miss… him."

Harvey smiles. "Finally. Some truth. It's Baz, isn't it?"

"How-? What makes you say 'Baz'?"

"It's not hard to see, if you know what to look for. And I remember what it was like, to be on the receiving end of your attention."

I grin.

"Might be it's Baz."

"You must like him a lot to be texting him every night."

"Yeah; I do. I really wish he was here. But I figured I better keep him away while Agatha's around."

Harvey frowns. "Why's that?"

"Well, you know. The bad publicity of me being with a bloke."

Harvey looks at me like he suddenly understands, and shakes his head. "Nah. You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Hide yourself. Hide Baz. The band doesn't need you to do that. You be with whoever you want to be with, Simon."

"What if Agatha gets mad? Or the record company?"

"Well piss on them, if they do. We're not corporate slaves, are we?"

"No, but what about the fans? What if they don't like it?"

"Piss on them, too."

I laugh. "Harvey."

"You're wrong on that anyway, Simon. Fans aren't going to care. This isn't 1950."

"So I could be public with Baz and you wouldn't even care? What about Dev?"

"Let's ask him." He picks up his phone and texts Dev. In less than two minutes Dev is at the door.

"Dev, do you care if Simon has a boyfriend?" Harvey asks.

"Not really. No."

"Well, there you go, Simon. Now call your posh gent and tell him he can come follow along with us any time he wants."

I'm on my way back to my room when my phone buzzes… it's Agatha. "Stop by my room tonight ASAP. Just you." So I change direction and take a left down the hall where her room is. I tap lightly on the door. She opens it.

"That was fast!" she says, laughing.

"I was right nearby, and it sounded urgent. What's up?"

She smiles. "Come in, Simon."

I go inside, but there's nowhere to sit but the bed, so I remain standing. She sits down on the edge of the mattress, patting the space beside her, lightly. "Sit."

So I do, but it feels weird. What's this about?

"Simon," she says, "you know there's a clause in your contract stating that you are to maintain your current public image by remaining apparently single during the tour…"

"Yes?" I say. I'm not sure what she's getting at.

"Well, I don't want you to feel bound by that. Because I know from my uncle it is very loosely interpreted these days."

I let myself start to smile. Coming on the tail-end of my conversation with Harvey, this feels like she has separately come to her own decision to let me know that if I'm pining away for someone in secrecy because I think it's not allowed, to just stop — because it will be okay. Because I will be allowed to have Baz.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying…?" I begin.

She looks at me, and her eyes are sparkling. "Yes."

I lean forward and give her a big hug. She hugs back, but then I feel her pressing her lips to the side of my head. I pull back just as she's trying to kiss me on the mouth. I'm in shock. I break away from her and stand up.

"Agatha?"

"Simon," she says, "Don't you understand? There's no reason we can't be together. If you want to kiss me, you can. If you want to be with me tonight in this motel room, you can."

"Oh… OH. I think we were NOT understanding each other just now." I have to get out of here.

Her face looks like it's crumbling. "What… what do you mean? What did you think I was talking about?"

I feel kind of sick to my stomach. "I thought you were talking about me and Baz. That it's okay for me to be with him now publicly."

She looks away while shaking her head and laughing, but there's no humor in her laugh.

"Yeah, no. That's not what I was talking about."

"I'm sorry, Agatha. I didn't know."

"Simon," she says, grabbing my hand. "Are you in a relationship with Baz? Is it serious? Is there any chance for me? I like you. I thought you liked me."

"I do like you, Agatha, but not that way. And yes, Baz and I are in a relationship. I thought that's what you were getting at- that you knew and that you were letting me know you were supportive."

"You never even gave me a chance," she says, peevishly. "You never even kissed me."

"It's too late for that, Agatha. It's never going to happen."

She's still grasping my hand, and now she tugs on it. She tries to pull me down onto the bed beside her, but I stay standing. "You won't know for sure how you feel if you don't try… try kissing me."

I can't believe she's saying this. I pull my hand away, but now she's reclining back onto the bed. She's letting her long blonde hair spill out around her and she's looking up at me with brown eyes. Her arms are spread open like she's offering herself to me, and I can't help but notice she isn't wearing a bra. Good lord.

I'm stumbling and stammering. I'm out the door. I leave her laying on the bed just like that, but now frustrated and bewildered.

I speed walk back to my room, locking the door behind me. What just happened and what does it mean?

Should I call Baz and tell him-? I have to call Baz. I call him every night, and if I don't, he'll KNOW. This is just what he was worried about.

I pick up my phone and text.

Si: Are you there?

Baz: Yes I am

Si: A thing just happened

Baz: What?

Si: Agatha hit on me

Baz: Call me right now.

So then we're on the phone, and I'm crying with shock, telling him everything. If this leads to my losing Baz… I don't know what I'll do. But after I finish telling him all of it, Baz says firmly, "Simon, don't cry. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want her, Baz. I never wanted her."

"I know. I know that, now. That's why this business with her doesn't matter."

"What if she screws up this tour for me?"

"Then she'll be in deep shit, because SHE came on to YOU."

"But who's going to believe me?"

"Simon, you're panicking, now. Wait and see what the day brings tomorrow. I know Agatha. She's going to be embarrassed tomorrow. She's not going to make a fool of herself any further."

"You know why this happened, why everything's been wrong? It's because I haven't been telling people the truth. Baz, I'm so done with that. I want you to come here, first chance you get. Meet me on the tour. Tell Penny you're taking some time off and come be with me here if you're able."

"Well, in less than two weeks I was going to do just that."

"It can't wait any longer. Come now. The guys know… Baz. The guys KNOW. I talked to them earlier and they think it's right silly to hide this, too. They told me to invite you here."

"Wow, you told them? That's great. Oh, Simon…"

"Please come, Baz."

"I will. I am. Where will you be tomorrow?"

"Suffolk."

"Text me all the details and I'll meet you at the show."

"Oh, Baz."

"We'll be together soon, love."

"So we're alright… there's nothing wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I couldn't love you more."

"I've been a dumb git, Baz. When people love each other like you and I do, we have no business hiding it."

"Well, I agree it's really hard to hide it. And it leads to problems that wouldn't be there if we were open with everyone from the start."

"I see that now."

We talk more, till I feel better, and then the next morning when I meet the guys in the lobby, we find that Agatha's left the motel. She's left us a note: "Hey guys — I got called back to London. You've had enough time to learn the ropes… you don't need me hauling you around anymore. I left you the itinerary and all of my contacts for the tour. Just get yourself to wherever you need to be each day, check in with the manager, and do your show. Good luck — you're going to do fine without me. And Simon, call your boyfriend. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Hope we can be friends… I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. Love, Agatha."