“Con… Jesus!” Forest bit his lip, hard enough to almost taste blood. “God, I don’t know if that feels good or not, but fuck, don’t stop. I hurt fucking everywhere.”
It was late. Late enough for Forest to have eaten twice at Miki’s and worry about Connor’s late appearance at the warehouse. The cop in Connor filled Forest in with brief bursts of information, a staccato report of words and gestures, but the delivery’d been sweet, a rocking of embraces and kisses hot enough to make Forest blush even as Damie and Miki wolf-whistled and catcalled their drummer. They’d come home, and Connor’d lit a fire in the family room’s massive fireplace while Forest went to climb into a hot shower, his body finally acknowledging the shock of having played steadily for too long.
“I’d figure your arms, but your feet?” Connor’s fingers ghosted over the spot again, and Forest twitched in anticipation. “Take some of that ibuprofen I gave you, because, babe, it hurts to watch you move.”
“Feet. Legs.” He tried to lift his arms, but they wobbled a bit before he let them drop. Connor shook out the requisite number of tablets into his hand, then gave them to Forest. He swallowed them with a mouthful of sweet-tart lemonade, gagging slightly at the powdery drag of the pills in his throat. “Drumming beats down your ass. You’ve got kicks to worry about and twisting around to get the upper part of the kit. I haven’t done a long session in fucking forever. Usually it’s just a couple of hours then a break. This was… intense.”
“But you had fun?”
“Fun?” Forest had to think about it, then nodded. “Yeah, it felt—good. Like it was easy but at the same time hard. Damie writes some hard licks to keep up with, but Miki’s got some stones. The shit he writes, it blows my mind. I just sat there thinking: fuck I want to play this. Hell, then he asked me what I thought about something, and suddenly they weren’t rock stars, you know? Just… really fucking good musicians… guys I’d want to play with—for, like, forever.”
Connor’s crooked smile warmed him, nearly as much as the man’s hands roaming over his calves. “So yeah, you had fun.”
They sat in companionable silence as Connor kneaded the hard muscles in Forest’s calves. Forest’s sweats rolled down over Connor’s hands, and he hissed in frustration.
“Here, lift your hips,” Connor said as he reached up to grab Forest’s waistband. “These need to come off.”
“If those come off, am I still going to get my massage?” He tried for a leer but must have been so off the mark, because Connor let out a rolling chuckle. “Fine.”
He lifted his hips, and a burning ache shot through his thighs. Wincing, Forest held still for a few seconds while Connor tugged his sweatpants down, then let his bare ass hit the couch.
“You’re not wearing underwear under these,” Connor said flatly. “And you expect me to ignore you long enough to give you a massage?”
“You took my underwear with you,” he protested. “Give them back.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Con refused with a shake of his head. Tossing the pants over Forest’s crotch, he said, “Here. Keep the bits part covered. I’m strong. I can do this. Talk to me about something. Take my mind off the fact you’re lying across of me naked and pretty.”
“If a pizza delivery guy shows up, you’re going to be doing this porn shoot by yourself,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Hey, I picked up a lot of good tips from that pizza delivery guy,” Connor shot back. “Don’t hear you complaining.”
“I’ll start complaining when you’re done.”
Connor’s hands began moving again, and Forest gripped the couch, whimpering.
“Hold on, I’m going to get some Tiger Balm.” The man lifted Forest’s legs and slid out from under him. Connor returned to the couch with a small glass jar and maneuvered back under Forest’s lower limbs. The smell of cinnamon and cloves hit the air when Con unscrewed the jar, and Forest hissed at his lover when Connor smeared a large dollop of the salve over his palms.
“You are definitely not fucking me with that on your hands,” he warned. “I don’t care what the pizza guy taught you.”
“No sex. Not now.” Connor chuckled. He picked up where he left off, soothing the ointment’s heat into Forest’s aching legs. “I’m not even sure you could bend in the right direction. Now, talk to me. Remember? You’re supposed to distract me.”
“What am I going to do about my mom?” Forest said suddenly. Connor’s eyes found his, and the man’s mouth tightened under Forest’s stare. “About bail. When she called me—well, her court-appointed lawyer did—he thinks he can get her bail tomorrow morning. She can’t even get her shit together to see me in the hospital but—fuck.”