I didn't want to watch them, but I was compelled.  It was insane.  I couldn't figure out if the burning sensation in my chest was rage or desire.  I hated the boy because he was with Darren.  I wanted the boy because Darren wanted him.    

There was nothing gentle about the way the boys fingers tugged at and tangled in Darren's hair, the way his hand clenched on Darren's ass through his jeans.  Black denim, the same pair he'd worn a week ago when it was my hands all over him.  His all over me.  

The memory flooded back like a physical ache.   
 

The motel room walls were stained with mould.  

It was too perfect.  

My self destructive instinct sought to ruin it.  Was this purely an illusion?  Was he counting the 
moments until I'd be counting out bills into his hand?  

I shifted outwardly .  Inwardly I drifted.  "Is this real?"  

"Of course it is."  Even in my sleep haze I could hear the tinge of confusion in his voice.  I rolled over 
to face him, a crease in my brow.  

"I didn't realise I was speaking aloud."  I admitted.  

"You should talk more often..."  A casual brush of his lips across mine.  "You have a beautiful voice." 

Part of me internally rejected the compliment as being paid behaviour.  The rest of me flushed warm 
with embarrassment.  

"Not nearly as beautiful as yours." I let some of my enchantment show in my eyes.  "I saw you sing 
tonight.  At the Tavern."    

His expression became shuttered and I wanted to kick myself.  He shifted uncomfortably, putting 
more inches between us.  He wouldn't meet my eyes.  

"What is it?"  I asked gently, "You have an incredible voice."  
   
"It's not that."  He forced the words out. Struggled to meet my eyes, almost apologetically.  "It's just..." He strained, trying to phrase it,  "Have you ever had a part of your life you just... wanted to keep separate from the rest of it?"  

//Do I ever//  

"Something like that."  

"Then you know what I mean."  Gravely serious blue eyes met mine.  

"I'm sorry."  I didn't know what else to say.  So I kissed him, softly, almost chastely.  "Do you want 
me to go?"  And I would have left if he asked me.  Really.  

"No."  Not even a moments hesistation.  I fought the smile that tugged at my lips.  

I fought the rising desire that had nestled in my groin.  //I shouldn't be here.//  Standing behind the 
Plaza, under cover of darkness and foliage, the only witness to this rushed frantic coupling.    

Darren's hands were under the boy's shirt now, pushing up the material to reveal a chest with muscle 
severely defined by thin-ness.  The boy was clinging to the wall for support, just as I had only days 
earlier.  The same wall.  His back was arched, bowing his body forward, drawing my attention 
unerringly to the very obvious arousal jutting beneath his faded surf shorts.  I watched Darren eye it 
off with that feral look in his eye.  His hands reached for the ties of the boys shorts.    

Darren's fingers had barely slipped beneath the waistband, when the boy spoke, voice gravelly with 
desire.  

"Go down."  It wasn't a request.  Hands locked in Darren's hair pulled un-gently downward, forcing 
him to his knees.  Darren held the boys gaze the entire time, his face a mask of stony submission.  I 
saw him take a shaky breath, then he wrenched the boys shorts downward with no regard for the 
burgeoning arousal beneath.  He bent his head.  

It was torture, but I couldn't look away.  

I saw the actual moment Darren's lips made contact with the younger man's cock.  The boy mouthed 
silent moans, hands locked in Darren's hair, hips swaying and rolling like a gypsy dancer.  Darren's 
soft dark hair fell across his face, obscuring my view of his controlled assault. He went to work, with 
skill I'd experienced first hand, and my own cock ached with want.   My hands, until now dead weights at my side, itched to move, to relieve the pressure, but I fought it, not willing to give in.  

As my body firmly rooted me in the present, the ache of desire a sharp knife held at my throat forcing 
me to watch them, my mind floated back seven days.  

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know..."    

He pressed a trail of wet kisses down my neck.  

"This?"  he enquired, tracing a pattern of fire across my chest with his fingertips.  

"This job..."  I panted, "You have an... ah!"  His lips found *that* spot on my neck and I almost lost 
my train of thought.  "... amazing voice - it could make you millions."  

His hair was silken brush over my nipples.  

"You think so?"    

His bare heated erection pressed against my thigh, he rubbed it against me, setting me alight.  

"Sure... the right producer, a little publicity, you're... ahhhh... born for it."  

He painted the outline of my lips with his tongue.  Spark in his eyes as he met mine.  Sly smile. 
Eyebrow twitched upward.  

"You know you almost sound as if you know what you're on about."  

And I wanted so much to tell him, right at that moment.  But I couldn't even think of the words.  

The boys moans were no longer silent.  Soft little pants and keening moans, steadily growing louder 
as Darren's movements increased in pace.  His motions were hypnotic, I couldn't help but watch 
transfixed as he brought the boy closer and closer to climax.  I didn't remember moving my hands, 
but somehow one had wound up clutching the wall for support.  The other had found its way to the 
bulge in my pants, the metal buttons of my fly digging into my palm.  

It would've been much too easy to undo those buttons.  

Somehow I refrained from opening them, instead pushing my hips forward, feeling my own touch 
through layers of denim, pressing the buttons harder into the flesh of my hand.    

Darren continued the dance of seduction and I fought against coming in my pants.  

The boys hips were bowed out from the wall, he was moaning unashamedly now, hips bucking harder 
and rougher against Darrens mouth.  It was vivid.  It was animal.  I couldn't tear my eyes away.  I 
couldn't keep my hips from mimicking the boys movements, moving in time with them both.  Fighting 
to come, fighting not to come.    

The boys voice got steadily higher.  I could tell he was close.  Darren's head was a blur of movement 
that ended as he wrenched his mouth off the boys cock allowing me to see the spectacle of the boys 
climax, spurting cream onto the scarred concrete.  

He moaned as he came, and his voice broke.  

And as I stood there, bearing witness, hair stuck with sweat to my neck, hand plastered to the front 
of my pants, Darren glanced up from beneath a sweaty curtain of hair and looked at me.  Directly at 
me.  

"Why did you pick that song?"  

"What?"  

He looked stung.  I didn't mean for the question to sound so accusitive.   "At the Tavern tonight, I was just wondering, why that particular song?"  

He feathered a hand through his hair and looked intensly thoughtful.  

"I dunno... it just kinda.. spoke to me." He shrugged a little.  "I sing what the music says to me.  That song said a lot.  Most of Savage's stuff says a lot."  He looked up at me then, from his position casually draped across the couch.  It was about 4am and the sky was beginning to lighten.  I knew my time was running out, so I'd been asking more and more questions, wanting all the answers before he left.  "You know Savage?"  he asked  

My heartbeat shot to 200 beats per minute.  I tried for casual.  

"I've heard some of his stuff.  It's not supposed to have lyrics is it?"  

His expression grew undreadable.  I couldn't tell if he was proud or ashamed.  

"He'd probably shoot me if he heard my stuff.  Fucking with his music..."  he wrinkled his nose.  "I 
can't help it.  It's not that the music's empty, it just... feels right."  

"It sounds good."  

He flicked his glance over to me again.  

"Thanks."  

He didn't break his gaze.  Just stared at me, hard.  So I knew he could see me, darkness or not.  

Then the boy began to stir.  Darren turned away and stood to face him.  Weak with lassitude, the 
boy grasped Darren's shoulder leaning his head on his hand, murmuring something incomprehensible.  Something that sounded like "woah..." or "wow..."  And he caught Darren's lips one last time, kissing sloppily and langorously.    

Darren kissed the boy back slowly, eyes fixed on mine as he did.  I almost hyperventilated.  //When 
did he see me?  Does he know I was here the whole time?//  I still couldn't look away.  In spite of the 
still demanding throb in my pants, my hand fell ashamedly from my crotch.  

The boy broke the kiss first, leaned back against the wall and caught his breath in heaving pants. 
Ploughed a hand through his hair and adjusted his clothes.  Avoided looking at Darren.  Pulled a fold 
of bills out of his back pocket.  Glanced ever-so-briefly at Darren with insolent eyes as he dropped 
the bills on the ground.  Then he walked away.    

And Darren closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he'd been slapped in the face.  Then he bent 
down to pick up the money.