More than Music Part 2
His friend shrugged in an attempt to hide the pain that flashed through his eyes.
“A speechless, Dylan. That’s new.” Mac shook his head. “Get some rest, Dyl. We’re back on the road tomorrow.”
“No. You’re not leaving.” Dylan grasped Mac’s hand and pulled. “I have feelings for you too,” he blurted.
A crease appeared between Mac’s eyes and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Are you drunk?”
“Do I look fucking drunk?” He stepped back in anger, staring up at Mac while running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Mac looked down at him, confusion written all over his face.
“I don’t know, Dyl. I honestly don’t know.”
Dylan bit back a groan. How could he demonstrate that he wasn’t drunk? That he wasn’t momentarily insane? His gaze dropped to Mac’s lips. He had a standard mouth. Thinner lips at the top than at the bottom and slightly chapped from having played out in the sun all day. The media would consider them far from perfect, but not Dylan. He knew what that mouth was capable of – and he didn’t mean sexually- that he hadn’t experimented. No, he knew that from that mouth spilled words of constant encouragement, funny comebacks and good advice. It was the mouth of a friend. Did he really want to screw that up? To change that mouth into a lover’s mouth? To hear Mac whisper sweet promises of love and happily ever afters in his ear? His pulse accelerated. He curled his hands into fists. Yes.
In a bold move, Dylan stood on his toes and pressed his lips against Mac’s. The feeling that coursed through him at the contact could only be described as a base chord. It resonated pleasurably deep inside of him and settled against his chest. Mac gasped and stumbled backwards. Dylan reached for him, eager to show him more but his friend grasped his wrists.
“Dyl, you’re confused.” Mac’s voice was barely audible. Dylan smiled.
“No, no, I’m not. Trust me.”
“You saw us and that turned you on. It’s fine but it’s gotten you confused. You’ve never felt anything for me beside friendship.“
Dylan confidently moved in closer. He’d shaken Mac up. He could tell by the way his eyes darted around the room and how he cleared his voice every two seconds even if no words came out of his mouth. He also knew that Mac didn’t entirely want him to stop. He hadn’t gone to the door and the hold on his wrists wasn’t particularly firm.
“Trust me. I’m not confused.” He twisted his hands so that he in turn held on to Mac’s wrists. “I’m actually seeing things really clearly now.”
“I want you to stop thinking.”
Mac’s Adam’s Apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed. Dylan made small circles on his wrist with his thumb. He bit back his smile as Mac’s hold on his arms slackened completely. Gently, he slid his hands up his friend’s arm. Mac remained frozen, staring at him as if in a dream. Dylan cupped his face.
“This could change everything, Dyl. The band, us, our friendship, everything.”
“The band can accept it, as can the public. Our friendship will only grow stronger. And yes, everything will change because we won’t be friends any longer. We’ll be lovers. And when I’m on stage singing I won’t be singing to an imaginary lover I’ll be singing for you, to you.” Dylan pressed his body to Mac’s. He stood on his toes and bushed his lips against the other man’s. Mac sighed. Dylan ran his tongue along his bottom lip, then the top and then the bottom again before pulling it slightly between his teeth. Mac moaned.
“Touch me, Mac.”
Dylan locked their lips together again. He nipped and nibbled and tasted until Mac was pressed against him, his hands in his hair and groaning. Then and only then did he slide his tongue into Mac’s warm recess. They both groaned, stumbled and fell on the couch. Laughter bubbled from deep within him at Mac’s forlorn expression.
“Hearts of ice that melt with time/Hearts of ice that bloom with time/ all because of you. You make me feel/ you make me heal/ you make everything so real I could cry.”
Dylan blushed at Mac’s awed expression as he finished singing the short verse.
“I hadn’t heard that one before.”
“It’s new. I’ve been inspired lately.” With a grin he pushed Mac against the couch and straddled him.
Mac’s eyes widened but he made no move to flee. Instead, his hands rested softly against his hips.
“You know,” Dylan edged closer to Mac so their lips were barely a breath away. “That song wasn’t finished.”
Mac’s eyes searched his.
“At the sound of your voice/ at the touch of your lips/ the cold faded.” Dylan pressed his lips softly against Mac’s. “And I realized I was in love with you/ And I realized I was in love with you/ because you’ve always made me feel.” Dylan kept his gaze steady on Mac’s. “You make me feel.” Mac threaded his fingers through his hair and he couldn’t help the smile that crept into his face. “You make me heal.” A thrill of pleasure and love raced through Dylan as Mac’s voice joined his. “You make everything so real I could cry.”
A soft sigh of pleasure and happiness escaped through his lips before Mac moved in and kissed him.
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