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You Know I Want Your Lovin'

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Once Bob gets Jimi's fly all the way down, he wastes no more time in simply wondering just how big the younger man is. He reaches in, takes his shaft by the base and with shock, realizes he needs to tug Jimi's pants open just a little further.

Well would you look at that, it's too goddamned big and needs more room just to be freed.

Bob grumbles impatiently but Jimi just chuckles, feeling bad at watching Bob struggle. So he takes over and tugs his belt out of the loop, tossing it aside, pushing his pants down the rest of the way.

He takes his erection out himself, holding it by the base awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm sorry, it's a little..." He laughs nervously as Bob's eyes widen while he sits back on his shins to get a look at it from a distance and different angles.

"It ain’t a little anything." Johnny cuts in from where he's still lying on the bed.

Jimi has to hold back his laughter, his forehead is damp with sweat from how anxious he is, but Johnny's sense of humor eases the tension. "I know, man, I know..." He scratches his cheek, "That's why I was telling Bob that—"

Leaning forward, Bob touches his tongue to the tip of Jimi's erection and the guitarist immediately forgets what he was going to say, "Fuck." He curses in a whisper as Bob swirls his tongue around experimentally. Jimi holds it by the base and lets Bob get more and more comfortable, eventually wrapping his lips around the head and pressing his tongue out. Jimi shudders at the sensation. "Yeah, that's it." He encourages the blue-eyed-man who scoots forward on the bed and tries to take Jimi down an inch or so more.

Johnny's stomach stirs in a mixture of both jealousy and arousal, obviously preferring he be the one receiving Bob's attentions. But trying to pretend the sight isn’t arousing wouldn’t do him any good anyway. He rubs the ache in his pants while he observes Bob taking Jimi into his hand tentatively, stroking with uncertainty as he continues getting accustomed to having it in his mouth.

"Just don't make any sudden movements." Johnny advises Jimi who chuckles inwardly, while trying not to shake too much and throw Bob out of his concentration.

Bob soon tires of their position and pulls away to motion Jimi onto the bed, "Lie down, or sit on the edge and I'll get down..." He takes Jimi's hand and pulls him forward, letting Jimi settle in however he wants to.

Jimi, not wanting to make Johnny move from his comfortable spot in the middle of the king-sized
bed, decides to just take a seat on the edge.

Bob licks over his lips and falls to his knees in front of the 23-year-old, spreading his thighs to scoot between them. "How am I doing?" He grabs the base and doesn't hesitate to wrap his lips back around the head, sliding his tongue along the heated, milk chocolate colored skin.

"Mmm, fine, Bob, just fine." Jimi's fingers dig into the beds comforter, much more comfortable now just sitting and watching Bob practice. "Just be careful with your teeth," He lifts a hand to feel Bob's feathery curls.

Bob tries to get into a steady rhythm of hands and tongue like Johnny does with him. He carefully strokes along Jimi's thick shaft, while pleasuring the tip and veins with his tongue, satisfied when he hears Jimi moan quietly. "Like that, baby, fuck."

Jimi tangles his fingers into Bob's hair and lets his own head tilt back, eyes closed to take in the sensations in full. "You're doing so well."

Bob appreciates the praise, encouraged to go faster and a little bit rougher with his movements, like he noticed Johnny would do. Jimi's hips stutter and he gasps at Bob's tongue wiggling along his slit. "Good, so good." He caresses Bob's scalp with his fingertips, earning soft sounds from Bob whose lips are wet with spit and precum as he pulls back to suck in a deep breath, admiring Jimi's cock as he continued to fist it steadily.

"Why'd you never try this with him before?" Jimi asks Bob who flicks his eyes toward Johnny, seeing the country singer lying patiently on his side, deep brown eyes bloodshot from the pot they'd smoked.

“Well, he's gone down on me," Bob licks over his lips and turns his eyes up to Jimi's, "Twice, but we usually just..." He laughs and scratches the side of his nose, "He fucked me the first night we met..." Bob struggles to explain, quickly realizing how embarrassing it is to talk about his sex life, but hey, Jimi's cock has already been in his mouth so he couldn't possibly be that self-conscious. "I really enjoyed it so...it's what we've done mostly." He looks to Johnny who shrugs at that answer. It feels like he wants to add something, but he only nods in agreement.

Bob continues, "I'm sure I would have gotten around to uh, trying this with him." He eyes Jimi's erection again, "How many people have actually let you fuck 'em with this...monster?” He wonders out loud.

Jimi exhales heavily as he remembers the men and women he's been with over the years. "Only a handful of people have, but none of them were able to take it all." He shrugs a shoulder, "I'm used to it by now, I don't want to hurt anyone."

Bob's lips quirk up into a mischievous grin and Johnny clicks his tongue at the poet doubtfully, knowing exactly what that smile meant, "Aw hell, Bob. You know you won't be able to handle all of that."

Jimi's eyes widen, stomach fluttering with realization as he looks from Bob's pouting face to the older man in the room, who shakes his head at the guitarist. Jimi gulps and finds Bob's stunning blue eyes again. The poet smiles at him sweetly before addressing the older man.

"Like you're any fucking smaller?" He calls over his shoulder, and Johnny just rolls his eyes and rests his chin in his palm. "Besides,” Bob adds, “he's never been all the way inside someone before, and that's just unfortunate."

"It's really no big deal—"

"Like fuck it isn't." Bob interrupts adamantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits back against the bed, eyes never leaving Jimi's cock, "We're going to fuck.” He decides with confidence. “Johnny, do you have anything?" He holds out his hand toward his friend, who doesn't move, fixing Bob with a disapproving glare.

Bob drops his hand and crosses his arms. "What?

"I'm just worried about you, baby." Johnny admits, and the poet can only roll his eyes.

"Baby." Bob mutters the word with disdain but doesn't dwell on it. "I'll be okay." He assures before adjusting on the bed so that he's lying closer to Johnny.

He reaches out a hand, and Johnny eyes the stubby digits doubtfully for a moment, until he's sighing and taking the offered hand in his, squeezing it softly.

"How about you get me nice and loose for him, hm? If you’re so worried." Bob murmurs suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at the country singer.

Jimi is watching the pair carefully, understanding that Johnny was Bob's lover first and it's probably important for them to go over things together.

Whether they even realize that themselves or not.

It's just weird standing there with his cock out, that's all.

Johnny's eyes trail down Bob's naked form openly, lips pursed with contemplation. "You want me to finger you?"

That mischievous smirk is back, and Johnny doesn't mind it much now that it's directed at him.
"Among other things." Bob implies, looking back to Jimi to make sure the other is okay. He finds the other with his erection in his hand, and Bob’s pleased to see the younger man is still turned on.

Guess it helps that Bob is completely naked. Maybe Jimi is attracted to his body after all…

Bob rewards the guitarist with a bright smile and Jimi returns it, albeit shyly.

"I've got some stuff yeah." Johnny moves from the bed and toward his suitcase that sits on the small dining table. "We'll have to improvise a little bit though."

Bob shrugs at that, sitting up on the bed and scooting back toward Jimi, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed so Jimi's standing between them. "We always have before." He calls to Johnny as he tips his head up toward the other, smiling softly. "Hey, there. Are you okay?" He brings his hand up to rest them on Jimi's thighs, leaning down and giving the tip of Jimi's erection a teasing lick.

Jimi shivers pleasantly, "Definitely, Bob. You?" He lifts a hand to stroke Bob's hair affectionately.

"I'm excited." Bob answers before wrapping his lips around the head, hollowing his cheeks to take the thick length in deeper.

Johnny's retrieved a few condoms and hand lotion from his bag. He turns back to the bed and clicks his tongue at the sight of Bob with Jimi’s cock back in his mouth.

“Jimi, I think you’ve created a monster.” He nods his head toward Bob, but the younger men are too distracted to respond, Jimi’s head tipped back, mouth parted as Bob had begun a steady rhythm.

They’re not however, too distracted to tune out the knocking that sounds from the living area of the hotel room.

“For fucks sake!” Bob shouts, fingernails digging into Jimi’s thighs impatiently.

Why is it that he’s always interrupted while having sex?!

Johnny raises his finger to his lips and hisses at Bob to keep his mouth shut. Jimi is scared out of his wits, there’s a feeling of regret low in his gut at knowing this hadn’t been a good idea. He steps back from Bob and is already tugging his pants back up. Bob scoffs and leans back on his palms, shaking his head up at Jimi.

Johnny tosses the items he’d retrieved onto the bed and then turns to the others. “You two stay in here until I find out who it is and what they want.” His eyes trail over Bob’s naked form briefly and he hums, “You might want to get dressed, Bobby. Just in case.”

Bob grumbles something about blue balls as Johnny exits the room, locking the bedroom door before he goes.

He’s got his hand on the doorknob, waiting to see if they’re going to knock again or leave. When the knocking starts up again he whispers a curse and calls out, “Who is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” A woman’s voice calls and instantly Johnny’s stomach twists.

June.

“Hold on just a minute, baby.” His voice is tense as he speaks, and he doesn’t quite hear what she says next as he books it for the bedroom door, tapping on it incessantly.

“You guys have to go, my fiance is here.” He whispers urgently, trying for the knob but he’d locked it on his way out.

Half a minute later, the door flies open and Bob appears with Jimi standing close behind him. Bob’s finishing on the last few buttons of his shirt as he pushes past Johnny, “Your fiance.” Bob mocks as he tucks his shirt back into his pants. “Were you going to tell me that you’re newly engaged after you got to fuck me one last time?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Johnny’s heart is racing and he’s just glad Bob isn’t yelling. He does however, grab Bob’s arm to stop him from storming out. “Bob, I meant to tell you--”

“After you nailed me.” Bob hisses, fixing Johnny with a heated glare and snatching his arm away. “Lets go, Jimi.” He grabs the younger mans hand and drags him through the living room and to the front door.

He unlocks the door and throws it open, meeting June Carter’s striking blue eyes instantly. He can’t even move after that. He doesn’t want to be rude and just storm past her. None of this is her fault. He’s choking on air for a moment before he manages a gulp.

She smiles brightly at him, her sharp southern accent cutting through the uneasy silence, “Bob! What a pleasant surprise!” She leans in for a hug and Bob steps forward rigidly to let her wrap her arms around him. He hugs back halfheartedly.

Johnny’s standing by silently, trying not to pass out. Jimi looks to be in a very similar situation, but all at once starstruck by the gorgeous woman.

June gives Bob a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back from him, “Were you keeping John company for me, Bob?” She asks innocently, unaware what exactly her words mean to everyone else in the room.

Bob wants to throw up, “Sort of,” He gulps, stepping aside to let her into the room where she quickly greets Jimi with a warm shake of her hand. The guitarist has to remind himself to take deep breaths.

Bob, meanwhile, is itching for a cigarette, “We’re having a party down in my bands room, but Johnny was feeling a little anti-social so we came here instead.”

“John, what did I say about locking yourself up in your hotel room all day?” She steps up to her fiance and they share a soft kiss.

Bob can see that Johnny is sweating and he almost feels sorry for the older man. Almost.

He deserves every second of this torture.

“I was at the party for an hour or so, that’s enough for one day. It’s just a bunch of teenie boppers anyway.” He answers her with an uneasy laugh, and from behind June’s back, Bob rolls his eyes at that. She hums at Johnny’s answer.

“An hour, huh?” She clicks her tongue, looking her man up and down, “What have you taken today?”

Bob takes that as his cue to leave, and he grabs Jimi by the wrist, “Well we should get back to the party, ya’ll stop by and have a drink if you want to--” He tries to duck out the doorway with Jimi but Johnny calls Bob’s name and tells him to hold on.

Bob has to hold in his frustration and force himself to meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Can I talk to you about something real quick?”

Bob wants nothing more than to punch his friend in the nose. Why can’t they deal with this later?!

“Um, right now?”

Johnny gulps deeply as he nods. He knows very well that if he lets Bob go, he probably won’t get another chance before they part ways again. And for who knows how long.

“Just in case one of us leaves early in the mornin’.”

“Okay.” Bob agrees reluctantly, exiting the room with Jimi. He hears Johnny say something to June and then he’s in the hallway with the younger two. He closes the hotel room door behind himself and sort of clears his throat as he looks to Bob and motions down the hall.

Bob narrows his eyes but lets Jimi’s hand go, “I’ll meet you back at the party, Jimi.” He gives the other a reassuring smile and the youngest of the three nods in understanding as he turns down the other direction of the hall.

Johnny takes Bob’s boney wrist and practically drags him down the hallway and around a corner where he presses his back to the wall. It gives them both a strange sense of deja vu, as they’d been in a similar position at the party earlier.

“What the fuck.” Bob says under his breath, glaring into the dark brown eyes of the taller man.

“I had no idea she was coming, I swear to you.” He’s got Bob by the shoulders, looking deeply into his furious blue eyes. Oh those eyes. “She just showed up, I guess as a surprise for me.”

“Isn’t that nice.” Bob deadpans, “Well enjoy your surprise.” He attempts to move away but Johnny keeps him firmly in place against the wall.

“Bob, please try to understand. I love you--”

Bob slaps his hand over Johnny’s mouth, throat tightening with emotion, “You don’t. So don’t fucking say that shit to me.”

Johnny takes Bob’s hand from his mouth and presses it to the wall, “I love you, Bob Dylan.”

Bob holds back the urge to shout, fighting frantically to get Johnny off of him. Johnny, upon realizing how distressed Bob is, steps back and drops his hands away from the seething songwriter.

They just stand there in tense silence for a good while. Johnny is breathing heavily, trying to get his thoughts together as he observes the slighter man in front of him.

“I’ll come see you later. Don’t go to sleep.” Johnny lifts a hand to Bob’s cheek but the younger man slaps the hand away before it can touch him.

Before Johnny can say another word, Bob has turned on his heel and is disappeared back around the corner they came from.

Johnny sighs and presses his face into his hands, groaning as he feels a headache coming on.

-

Bob’s moaning, cursing, thrashing against the sheets as Jimi’s begun to set a steady pace inside of him. He clings to Jimi’s back, and even though he knows Jimi is going easy as he can, Bob still has to brace himself for every first few thrusts. Jimi notices this and immediately slows down, “I’m sorry.” He whispers, dragging out his thrusts and sliding back in even slower. That seems to be better for Bob, who lets out a cracked moan.

Bob throws his head back against the pillows, “All the way, put it all in, Jimi.” He pants.

Jimi is already dripping with sweat at all the effort it’s taking him to keep from fucking the beautiful man in abandon. “Bob--” He warns.

Bob wraps his legs around Jimi’s waist, all but shoving the others cock even further into him. “Fuck.” He whimpers when Jimi’s hips are flush against his ass, having taken it all inside.

It’s a lot, and it’s definitely too much. Yet at the same time, it’s everything Bob needs in that moment.

“Holy shit.” Jimi grabs a fistfull of sheets beside Bob’s head. So this is what it feels like to be all the way inside of someone. And it’s Bob friggin’ Dylan Incredible. “Are you out of your mind? You’re going to kill yourself.” He says between heavy pants of breath against Bob’s forehead.

“God, no. Feels good, baby.” Bob curves his hips upward, earning a deep moan from the man above him. “Come on, make me scream like your guitar.”

“Jesus.” Jimi shakes his head in a vain attempt to clear away the clouds caused by his overwhelming lust for Bob.

They’re in Bob’s own hotel room, away from the party so Bob could be as loud as he possibly wanted. They’d both agreed that what’d happened in Johnny’s room ruined the mood, but ended up making out and getting right back in the mood soon after.

 

Earlier, when Johnny had locked them in the room to go answer the door, Bob had already begun redressing. Jimi was biting into his thumbnail, pacing back and forth beside the bed.

“Calm down, it’ll be fine.” Bob had tried to assure him but the guitarist was hearing none of it.

Bob shrugged and spotted the condoms that Johnny had tossed onto the bed.

“You guys have to go, my fiance is here.”

Bob’s whole body had gone stiff and he felt like he might be sick.

Furiously, he’d snatched up all 3 condoms and shoved them into his pocket then began buttoning up his shirt.

 

Now he’s here with Jimi. Sweet, adorable, laid back (hung as fuck) Jimi. Unable to even briefly think about the country singer during the pleasantly distracting drag and push of being taken.

“You feel perfect, god you’re beautiful.” Jimi whispers as he clings onto Bob’s thigh, pushing it back, spreading him further to get in impossibly deeper.

Fuck!” Bob shouts as his prostate is jabbed at relentlessly on every thrust. He reaches up and grabs onto Jimi’s big hair, pulling his head down for a passionate kiss.

 

Later on, it’s 1am and they’re lounging in bed sharing a cigarette and listening to the radio. Bob’s got his head in Jimi’s lap, Jimi’s long fingers twirling around Bob’s big curls gently, “I’ve had a really good time with you tonight, Bob.”

Bob smiles at that, but regretfully his mind is elsewhere, as he remembers Johnny had said he was going to come by. What for? So he can rub his engagement in Bob’s face some more? Maybe Bob just won’t answer the door for him.

“It’s been a strange night for sure, but I had a good time too.”

Jimi passes the cigarette to Bob as he wrestles in his mind over the incident with Johnny’s fiance, “What happened earlier...that was pretty heavy.”

Bob wastes no time pretending he doesn’t know what the young guitarist is referring to, he will however, pretend that it has no effect on him. He sits up to put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand, “I’ve been dealing with this drama since I started fucking him, I’m used to it.”

Then there’s knocking on the door and Jimi freaks out for a second but Bob just laughs and says, “It’s only Johnny,” Before he’s sliding off of the bed and reaching down for his boxers.

“Oh shit, is he going to be pissed that I’m here, man?”

“I could care less if he is, Jimi.” He murmurs, “I’ll just say you’re my fiance and tell him to get the fuck out.”

He pads through the hotel room to answer the door, greeted with Johnny’s tall frame filling the doorway. And the older man doesn’t hesitate to let himself in.

“Sure, come on in.” Bob mutters bitterly, closing the door behind the other.

Johnny’s looking around the room, searching for something without even knowing what for exactly.

“He’s in the bedroom.” Bob answers Johnny’s unasked question, earning him an intense gaze from the 34-year-old who doesn’t speak for a long minute.

Just from looking at the young poet dressed down to only his boxers, Johnny could put two and two together. Had Bob been referring to Jimi? Had he brought him back here and…?

“You—“

“I sure did.” Bob snaps, “Now what is it that you want? I have company.” He crosses his arms, closing Johnny off as he leans against the nearest wall.

Johnny’s face falls into his hands, as he feels like he’s losing Bob with every second that passes.

Bob’s done with him. He’s found somebody new and from this moment on he’s going to slowly drift away until he’s gone completely.

“We don’t have to end things this way, Bobby.” He settles on the idea that maybe they can at least stay friends. It would be better than losing him altogether.

Bob scoffs and Johnny can feel his heart breaking, “Okay...” Bob only sounds amused, deciding to hear Johnny out, “How should we end this then? If you think that’s what we should do.”

“I don’t!” Johnny interjects, feeling ridiculous the second the words leave his mouth. Especially when Bob’s eyebrows raise at his outburst.

Johnny takes a breath and tries again. “I don’t want to end things...But I get the feeling you do and…” He’s desperately searching for the right words, raising his hands up in defeat, “I just want you to be happy, and Jimi seems like a cool kid.”

Bob can’t help smirking, knowing Johnny is only saying these things for Bob’s benefit, not his own. It’s sweet though, Bob can feel that Johnny means it. “I just met him tonight, Johnny. We’re not going to fuckin’ move in together.”

Johnny just nods at that silently, though he can’t help feeling a little relieved.

“It’d be nice to find someone who wants me though. Me and only me.” The younger man continues and Johnny is still only nodding, understanding completely.

He can’t keep being selfish, greedy. He used to think he could balance out his two most important relationships, but now he knows he was stupid to ever believe that could work. It isn’t fair to Bob and it isn’t fair to June.

“I want that for you too, Bob…” Johnny really does, “And I’d love for that person to be me, but…”

Bob rolls his eyes at this, “The idea sounds nice when we say it, Johnny. But do you really believe you could leave June for me?” He keeps his arms crossed, not expecting much to come from this discussion. He knows how much Johnny loves June, and how being with her is clearly the smarter, easier choice to make. The easier life to live.

Johnny has no words, he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he loves Bob more than anyone...Even more than his fiance. But it’s a forbidden love, he doesn’t know if he could live keeping his relationship a secret. And if he’s with Bob then they’ll definitely have to. It would mess with his head.

Johnny steps up in front of Bob who’s still leaned against the wall. The taller man keeps his eyes on the ground, unable to hold eye contact with Bob for longer than a few seconds. That man is small but, boy, if looks could kill.

“Bob, I love you more than I think I’ve ever loved anyone...you’re the one I want. That’s not the question here.” He wants to hold Bob’s hand, touch him, anything. But the younger man’s body language is letting him know that probably wouldn’t be the best idea right now.

“I told you to stop fucking saying that you love me.” He’s refraining from shouting, not wanting to get Jimi worried from the other room.

“It’s the truth, Bobby--”

“Bullshit! You can’t just throw that word around when you don’t really mean it.”

That hurts Johnny for some reason, deep in his heart, and he shakes his head at the other, “You think I don’t love you?”

“I don’t,” Bob is unable to look at him then, “Not like you love her.”

“Of course it’s different, you’re two different people! I don’t love you for the same reasons that I love her.”

“Why do you love me then? Hmm? Why risk your reputation over someone like me? Because the sex is nice? Give me one good reason.” Bob shrugs a shoulder, beyond having any faith that Johnny could change his mind.

“I feel good around you, Bob, okay? Being near you and being with you makes me feel like I’m where I need to be, where I should be.” He lifts his hand to Bob’s wrist, trying to get him to lower his arms that are still locked firmly over his chest.

Bob sighs and relents, letting Johnny take his hand, not budging when the older man steps closer into his space, before wrapping his other arm around Bob’s slight waist. “Holding you…” Johnny tips his head to whisper the words into Bob’s ear and Bob closes his eyes, trying to keep his body from shivering at the deep timbre of Johnny’s voice. “I want it to be your body I’m holding every night that I go to sleep. You that I take with me when visiting my parents for the holidays. You that I travel the world with…” He presses a soft kiss to Bob’s cheek and the smaller man is already falling apart in the others arms.

“You don’t play fair.” Bob whispers, eyes still closed as Johnny hums deeply in response, rubbing his hand along the bare skin of Bob’s lower back, fingers toying at the waistband of his boxers.

“I can’t help myself around you.” He turns his face into the crook of Bob’s neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the secret spot he knows drives Bob wild. Without fail, Bob lets out a soft gasp, tipping his head back against the wall.

“You’re going to leave me again,” Bob lets himself be lifted with little effort and pressed against the wall, where he wraps his legs around Johnny’s waist. Johnny gets a solid grip on Bob’s boney thighs and carries him across the room to the couch, where he sits so that Bob is in his lap.

He takes Bob’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply, pleased when the younger man responds with equal passion. Finally. Johnny lets his hands travel down Bob’s chest, around his torso and down to his waist, tempted to grab his ass, but he refrains in the meantime.

He grabs at a sharp hip with one hand, and drags the other toward the front of Bob’s boxers where he feels Bob has definitely become somewhat excited. Bob trembles and his breathing gets heavier as Johnny sucks and presses more kisses against his throat.

Bob makes a needy sound low in his throat and presses Johnny’s hand back toward his boxers, “He fucked me, Johnny.” Bob croons, licking his lips as he gazes down at the dark haired man, “God, it hurt like a motherfucker.”

Johnny growls possessively at that and wonders why the hell Bob had even said it, “Aw hell, Bobby, I told you it would,” He chastely kisses the corner of Bob’s mouth.

“Well it hurts with you too, it just took longer to warm up to his, that’s all.” Bob scoots forward on Johnny’s lap so their chests are almost flush. He wraps his arms about Johnny’s shoulders and ghosts his lips over his, “I orgasmed twice, man,”

Johnny grumbles indignantly, and that mindful feeling about not squeezing Bob’s ass completely disappears after he starts bragging about the sex he’d had with someone else. Johnny tries to tune Bob’s voice out while he feels up his spread thighs and tight backside, “And you say I’m the one who can’t be monogamous.”

Bob sits back and glares at him, “Do you really want to go there?”

Johnny shrugs, caressing Bob’s sides as he thinks, “I want you to make your guest leave.”

“Not going to happen.” Bob shakes his head. “He won’t bother us, don’t worry.”

Johnny is tempted to kick the guitarist out himself but that likely wouldn’t go over well with the man in his lap, “Okay well, I don’t want to hear about all the sex you guys had then.” Johnny’s eyes are lowered between their bodies now, and he feels Bob adjust himself against his lap.

“Why not? Just hours ago you were going to watch him screw me.”

Johnny sighs and lets his head fall back against the couch, squeezing at Bob’s hips. He wishes things between them were simpler, more established so they could just fuck and have no worries about it. “Because it’s what you wanted, baby.”

What had Bob been expecting for Johnny to tell him no? That he couldn’t sleep with Jimi? Sure, that is what Johnny had wanted to do. But it would have only resulted in a heated argument and Johnny hates arguing with Bob.

Bob hums thoughtfully, dipping his head down to press gentle kisses along Johnny’s exposed neck, causing the older man to exhale in content, “I like Jimi, he’s easy to talk to and he’s sweet to me.”

“I know you like him…” Johnny says wistfully, drumming his fingers along Bob’s waist. “You guys would be good together.”

Bob laughs against Johnny’s neck and buries his face in the crook of it, “You keep talking like I’m going to be with him.” He whispers, squeezing his thighs around Johnny’s thicker ones, imitating a hug, “Now why do you keep doing that I wonder?”

Johnny shifts a bit in his spot the couch, holding onto Bob’s thighs as he does so before settling back against the cushions, “I don’t know, baby.” Maybe he’s coming to terms with the fact that Bob may never be his.

“What makes you think he wouldn’t keep me a secret either? It’s going to be the same with any man I meet. I’ll always be a dirty little secret.”

“No, Baby, I don’t think of you that way, I never have and I never will.” Johnny caresses one of Bob’s sharp cheekbones with his thumb, “I have so much respect and admiration for you, you’re the greatest person I know.”

Bob leans back in the older man’s lap, shaking his head in disagreement, “You asked her to marry you, that means she’s the greatest person you know. Or at least it’s supposed to be that way.”

Johnny looks away from Bob then, still feeling guilty as all hell toward the both of them. “You’re right,” He amends.

Bob scoffs, moving to stand from Johnny’s lap but the older man clings to him, keeping him in place, “That’s how it’s supposed to be, but that’s not how it is, Bobby! If I could marry you I would, in a heartbeat.”

“Then why don’t you take the closest thing we could get to that, huh? Why don’t we get a house together? You don’t even want that, you need the entire package don’t you Johnny? I’ll never be enough for you.” He shoves Johnny’s hands away from his body and doesn’t let the other keep him from getting up this time.

Johnny stands up after him and grabs his arm, stepping in front of him. He takes Bob’s chin in his fingers and meets his eyes, “You’re more than enough, Bob, okay? You just…I haven’t seen you in a year. A lot of things have happened.”

Bob mumbles something about excuses and Johnny shushes him with a firm kiss, but Bob returns it for only a moment.

“You’ve never even given us a chance.” Bob turns his head away so Johnny can’t try and kiss him again.

“Bob, we’re always on the road—“

“So let’s take a fucking break!”

 

“Should I go, Bob?”

They’re caught off guard when Jimi’s ever polite voice calls out to them. Bob knocks Johnny’s hand away from his cheek and they both look over to find Jimi poking his head out of the bedroom doorway.

Bob groans and scratches the side of his neck, before looking down at his body as he remembers he’s only got boxers on. He snorts to himself at how ridiculous he must look. “Only if you want to, man. I’d like for you to stay, though.” He answers listlessly.

Johnny can’t hold himself back, not understanding why Bob won’t let them have a moment alone when they really need it, “Could you maybe come back after a while? We need to talk alone a bit.” He turns to say to Jimi, whose face falls but he nods in understanding.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Bob grabs Johnny’s shoulder and tugs at it sharply, “Don’t you dare--”

“No, Bob, he’s right.” Jimi interjects, “I really don’t want to be here while you guys are talking so seriously. It’s none of my business.” Jimi steps out of the room, and that’s when Bob sees that he’s gotten himself fully dressed.

Bob glares at Johnny before nodding at the guitarist, “He’ll be gone soon if you want to come back then.”

“I’ll come back in an hour.” Jimi agrees.

 

Once he’s gone and Johnny and Bob are finally alone, Johnny takes a seat on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry.”

Bob’s got his hands on his hips and his bottom lip between his teeth as he continues to glare down at his older friend, “He better come back or I’m going to kick your ass.”

Johnny laughs at that and meets Bob’s eyes, “You think you could, Bobby?”

Bob frowns and his hands drop from his hips, “Shut up.”

Johnny grins and watches with interest as Bob turns away from him and walks into the kitchenette area of his hotel room.

He listens as Bob pours himself a glass of wine and then returns into the living area, already gulping it down.

“None for me, baby?” Johnny teases.

“Call me baby one more time.” Bob points his finger with the empty threat and continues to stand in the middle of the room.

Johnny clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes, “Just calm down, okay? Sit down and talk to me.” He pats the couch cushions and meets Bob’s suspicious blue eyes.

Bob does sit, but he keeps his distance and sets his glass of wine down on the coffee table so he can light himself a cigarette. He doesn’t say anything to the older man, just puffs on his cigarette and lets Johnny stare at the side of his face.

“What’s on your mind?” Johnny scoots closer to Bob but keeps a cushion’s length between them to keep the younger man at ease.

Bob crosses one leg over the other and takes a deep drag from his cigarette, “Nothing.”

The country singer sighs and reaches to grab Bob’s free hand, surprised when the other doesn’t pull away. “I want to give us a chance…”

Bob shakes his head and exhales a thick cloud of smoke, “Don’t worry about it, John. You’ve got a fiance, you’ve got plans for your future. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Johnny groans at Bob’s dismissive behavior and lifts the younger man’s hand to his lips, kissing over his fingers tenderly. “I’m serious. I’ll do it. I’ll leave it all for you, just give me the word.” He slides over, finally settling himself right beside Bob and looping an arm over his shoulders, “You’re so beautiful, so perfect.” He whispers and Bob’s foot begins to fidget anxiously as he puffs on his cigarette. “I don’t want to keep leaving you. I can’t see you only once a year, I want to go home to you. Share a bed with you. Share a life with you.”

Bob whines with affliction, and reaches forward for his wine glass, downing the rest of it in a few wide gulps. “You don’t mean it, so don’t say it, John.”

“I mean it, Bob.” Johnny touches Bob’s soft curls, brushing them from Bob’s face so he can see more of him. He eyes Bob’s lips as the poet lights up a fresh cig, “I have a house now, all to myself. No one is there but me. Move in with me.” He suggests, and Bob’s eyes, wide with shock and confusion, finally meet his for first time in minutes.

Is Johnny just fucking him around? He couldn’t have heard him right, could he?

Bob quickly shuts his mouth that’d been hanging open and he swallows, “Where’s that at?”

“Nashville.” Johnny watches as Bob only nods, seeming deep in thought.

Johnny is hopeful, as Bob hadn’t outright expressed an opposition against it. If anything, he could be considering it.

“Real nice backyard, 5 acres,” Johnny continues, “Far enough from town that I’ve got some privacy, it’s nice and quiet.”

Bob looks away from him and stares across the room at nothing in particular, “Sounds nice. I don’t know how much I would like living away from New York, though.” He explains softly, and picks up his wine glass, standing with the intention to get some more. But Johnny grabs his wrist before he can step away.

“I’ll get it for you,” He takes the glass from Bob and heads toward the kitchen. He refills Bob’s glass and then pours some for himself. He returns to the living room and offers Bob back his glass before sitting down with him.

“Thank you.” Bob says after taking a drink.

Johnny nods and puts his arm back around Bob’s shoulders, pulling Bob close, “I know you want to be in New York, but I want to be with you as much as I can. You might even grow to love Nashville. We could make music together, get a few pets, maybe even have a farm.”

Bob really can't help loving the sound of everything Johnny is telling him. But he doesn’t want to get too hopeful, as Johnny always says things that sound too pretty to be real.

“When did you get that house?” Bob wonders.

“Couple months ago.” Johnny takes a drink of his wine.

“No one is there but you? Is it really big?” Bob, who’s never had his own house yet, is definitely interested.

Johnny shrugs a shoulder, “It’s probably about medium size. It’s just me right now, but hopefully soon I’ll have some company.” He rests a hand on Bob’s thigh, squeezing it gently and Bob purses his lips doubtfully, trying to imagine he and Johnny living in a house together.

The thought of it is so nice, and Bob finds himself getting lost in the idea of it. He can’t quite wrap his head around it though, it’d be like a fantasy coming true, likely overwhelming.

“I’m not sure if you should leave her, John.” Bob sounds defeated, withdrawn. And despite being shocked at Bob’s words, Johnny is more worried about his mood. It’s not like Bob to be so quiet and detached.

“How else could I be with you, Bobby?” Johnny nuzzles his nose into Bob’s cheek, “I’ll make you mine no matter what, don’t push me away.” He places two fingers on Bob’s left cheek to make the other look at him.

Bob’s eyes plainly express how conflicted his thoughts must be in that moment and Johnny just wants kiss the worries away, wants Bob to be carefree. He’s too young to be so stressed all of the time.

Bob however, still doesn’t completely trust the others words, no matter how good they sound. He can’t forget the past, how worthless he’s been made to feel by his good friend.

Johnny always leaves him feeling like a fool, and how’s Bob supposed to believe he won’t just do the same thing again?

“Why should I believe you?” He leans away, regarding Johnny with suspicion, “More importantly, why should I live with you? You said we’d never get to be together in that way, and now all of the sudden you’ve changed your mind?” He shrugs Johnny’s arm off of his shoulder, “Why would you get fucking engaged if you felt this way?” He stands from the couch, not wanting to be so close to the other in that moment. “How many pills did you fucking pop today? The entire goddamned bottle?”

Johnny immediately stands up after Bob, fists clenched with rage at the mention of his poorly hidden addiction. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by the younger man, who eyes Johnny’s white knuckles. Despite the threat, Bob doesn’t step back.

“Gonna hit me, Johnny?” He says faintly, light eyes fixed with darker ones, “Gonna hit me if I refuse to fucking live with you?”

Johnny relaxes his hands and lets his shoulders drop, “I don’t know what more I can say to you. I’ve told you how I feel, what I thought you wanted to hear, and now what? You don’t want me anymore? Make up your fucking mind and quit playing games with me, Bob.”

“Oh you’re one to fucking talk!” Bob shoves at Johnny’s chest, causing the taller man to stumble back slightly.

The only thing keeping Johnny from hitting the poet back is the fact that he’s twice Bob’s size and could do a lot more damage than him, with even less effort. Also, he loves him too much, he’d never want to lay a hand on him.

“So I changed my mind, what’s the big deal?” He spreads his arms out, “I’ve realized I can’t continue to live my life ignoring what I know makes me truly happy, and that’s being with you, Bob. How can I prove myself to you if you never even give me a chance?” He takes a careful step forward, relieved when Bob doesn’t avoid him by moving away.

Bob averts his gaze toward the carpet, knowing the other is right. They haven’t even given it a shot and he’s acting as if they’ve already failed.

“I’m afraid, okay?” He admits in a small voice, hesitating to make eye contact. “You’ve hurt me before and I’m afraid you’ll do it again.” At least Johnny has the decency to look guilty as Bob continues, “It’s easy for you to go on with your life and leave me behind.”

“Like hell it’s easy for me, Bob.” Johnny stresses with earnesty, remembering all the times he’d wanted to say ‘fuck it’ to his future commitments and just stay with Bob, or bring Bob back home with him. He doesn’t know what was stopping him, but whatever it was, he won’t let it get in his way this time, “Every time I had to leave you it hurt like hell. And every time I see you again, it reminds how much I never want to be away from you.”

Bob bows his head and can feel his eyes watering with tears at the realization that Johnny had felt the same way as him after all of their reunions over the years. What he’d felt with Johnny wasn’t unrequited afterall.

Johnny’s heart clenches at the sight of Bob’s tearing eyes, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I never wanted to hurt you.” He takes Bob’s hand and presses his lips to the back of it, “Please forgive me.”

Bob wipes his eyes before the tears can touch his cheeks, “Okay,” He sniffles, “But you’re on thin ice.” He warns lightheartedly.

Johnny laughs and grins happily, nodding as he helps wipes away the stray tears that Bob didn’t catch, “Fair enough.”

Knocking sounds on Bob’s door again and he looks at the clock above the couch, “It’s only been 15 minutes.” He says to himself.

“Maybe it’s someone else.” Johnny caresses Bob’s cheek one more time before letting his hand fall, “You want me to answer it and send whoever it is away?” He asks gently, unable to resist giving Bob a kiss to his forehead.

“I got it.” Bob says quietly, already on his way to answer it. “Who is it?” He calls through the door, not wanting anyone to see him crying.

“It’s Neuwirth, just wanted to check up on you. You disappeared out of nowhere earlier, man. Robbie and the guys were looking for you.”

Bob rolls his eyes as he thinks about his band, they’re probably all wasted anyway. “Well, I’m in for the night, just tell them I’m asleep.”

There’s silence for a brief second, “Who are you in there with? I saw Jimi come back alone.”

“Hey now, why don’t you mind your own fuckin’ business?” Bob calls in irritation, tears drying away on his gradually heating cheeks.

“Is it Johnny? Or Marlon—“

Bob’s stomach tightens when he hears the last name, “Shut up and leave already man!” He shouts, “Don’t bother me anymore tonight.” He looks over his shoulder at Johnny warily, hoping he hadn’t heard Neuwirth through the door.

Johnny had indeed heard, and he raises an eyebrow at Bob, now thoroughly confused. Who the hell is Marlon?

“Alright then, I’ll let everyone know not to come knock.”

“Well Jimi is coming back later, so don’t worry about it.” He’s so annoyed with his friend that he wants to open the door and kick him in the shin.

“...Okay, man.”

 

Bob curses several obscenities under his breath before he sighs and falls onto the couch. Maybe he needs to go to bed already, he’s so ready for this night to end.

“Albert probably sent him to check on me. Nosey motherfucker.” He murmurs, biting his long thumbnail anxiously at Johnny’s silence.

He knows Johnny has to have questions, no thanks to goddamned Neuwirth. He’s not going to bring it up or even mention it, maybe Johnny won’t even say anything and they can move past it—

“Who’s Marlon, Bobby?”

Well, so much for that.

“What?” Bob knows playing dumb with Johnny would never work, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s not sure he’s ready to reveal the truth.

Johnny motions to the door and notices how nervous Bob seems to get when he sits next to him on the couch. It’s starting to worry Johnny. What is Bob hiding? Is it so serious that he doesn’t trust Johnny enough to tell him?

“Neuwirth said somethin’ about a ‘Marlon’, who is that?”

Bob’s heart begins to race and he shrugs, scratching his head, unable to meet Johnny’s eyes, “I don’t fuckin’ know, man.”

“Why are you lying to me?” Johnny grabs Bob’s hand and squeezes it in his own, “You can be honest with me, baby.” He assures the younger singer.

Bob swallows hard and bites his bottom lip in distress, “...He was talking about Marlon Brando.” He still hasn’t quite met Johnny’s eyes.

Johnny blinks repeatedly, dumbfounded, and takes a minute to process the weight of this information. He observes Bob a little, to see if he’s for real.

“Marlon Brando, the actor? ‘The Wild One’ Marlon Brando?”

“Yes, him…”

Johnny fiddles idly with Bob’s fingers as he thinks about that. He’s not a child, he knows what’s being implied here, he’s just not quite ready to accept it. He’d been hoping maybe Bob had such a busy year he hadn’t had time for such things.

Always with the dangerous wishful thinking.

“You’ve met him?”

“Yeah, Johnny, I’ve met him.” Bob knows the country singer already has a notion, so maybe he won’t need to say much more.

Bob’s body language and the tone in his voice indeed tell Johnny everything needed to answer all the questions on his mind.

“Okay, Bobby. Well, what was he like?” He’s genuinely curious, as he’d seen a lot of Marlon Brando films during his time in the Air Force.

Bob wants to chase Neuwirth down the hall and pound his head in for this. Ruining his night. He and Johnny had made so much damned progress.

Why the fuck had Neuwirth thought it was okay to shout those things? Sure, the remarks would have come off as fairly innocent to anyone passing by, but still!

Bob tries to appear unbothered, and shrugs as he shifts his legs restlessly, “Like any other, guy, really.” He takes to drinking Johnny’s glass of wine.

Of course he won’t tell Johnny about how Marlon had crowded into his space against the wall of his movie trailer. How Marlon carefully untucked Bob’s shirt from his pants before unzipping them and sliding his hands inside, as Bob let his eyes slip shut with a breathy sigh.

Or the second (but not last) time, weeks later when they’d gotten a hotel room and spent the whole night and next morning in bed together.

 

Johnny nods as he continues to think about it. He wonders how this would affect everything they’d just confessed to each other before Neuwirth had knocked. If it would affect anything at all.

“Like any other guy only more handsome than most, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, but Bob frowns and twists uncomfortably in his spot before finally standing and walking away from the couch.

“Alright?” Bob questions, annoyed with himself for even feeling guilty about the situation, “You never called me, or sent any letters. Besides, I can meet people if I want to, Johnny. I’m single.”

It’s one thing to meet people. But how the hell is Johnny supposed to compete with Marlon fuckin’ Brando?

Despite these doubts, Johnny can only nod evenly in agreement, eyes on the carpet, but he can see Bob pacing back and forth in the corner of his eye.

He looks up and finds Bob puffing heavily on a cigarette, eyes narrowed in anger.

“Why are you getting upset, baby? Just sit down, calm down.”

“It’s not you, Johnny.” Bob hisses, “I’m fine just...You got anymore pot? I could use a toke or two right now, man.”

“Uh,” Johnny feels at his pockets and finds a baggy of pills, but quickly stuffs those away, “I might have some back in my room, Bobby, just wait.”

Bob says nothing as Johnny leaves and the older man returns 5 minutes later. Bob’s moved to the bedroom by then, having smoked 3 cigarettes during the short time Johnny was gone. Once Johnny locates Bob, he sits on the edge of the bed and holds out his baggy of joints.

“Groovy. Thanks, man.” Bob takes one out and quickly lights it up before falling back against the fluffy pillows.

“You’re welcome.” Johnny is content just watching the younger man for several moments, until he remembers what the other had said before he’d left to get the weed. “If it’s not me then what is it? Is it about Marlon?”

Bob groans and clicks his tongue as he gazes up at the ceiling, “Man, Johnny…” He shakes his head as he remembers how things had ended between the famous actor and him.

Interested, Johnny scoots closer to Bob on the bed, resting a hand on his shin.

Bob takes another hit off the joint before finally passing it to Johnny, “It was nothing like how I feel when I’m with you, Johnny, I can tell you that much.” He murmurs somewhat disappointedly and Johnny feels a flutter of hope in his stomach at Bob’s admission.

“In a bad way…?” He asks just to be sure, and Bob scoffs.

“I mean, he’s more experienced, he knew very well what he was doing but…” Bob licks his lips as he recalls the steamy nights they’d spent together, “There was a disconnect. It felt more like fucking…appointments than love-making, man.”

“Are you still seeing him then?” Johnny passes the joint back to Bob.

Bob doesn’t answer until after he’s exhaled his smoke, “No, it didn’t last long. Was never serious to begin with.” He shrugs a bony shoulder indifferently.

Johnny only nods, and they sit in a comfortable silence as several songs play through on the radio.

Johnny had been jealous upon first hearing about Bob’s other affair, but for some reason it didn’t bother him for very long. His love and adoration for Bob doesn’t waver in the slightest. He wants to ask Bob if he’d been hoping that thing with Marlon had been more serious, but he doesn’t want to hurt Bob, or hell, even himself.

Because if Bob answered yes, then Johnny might have a reason to feel some way about it.

Johnny is too stoned to remember when exactly he’d lied down on the bed and pulled Bob into his arms, but there they are. They’d shared two joints and now Bob’s eyes are closed as they listen to the radio in general silence. Johnny’s hands are running through Bob’s mess of curls, humming quietly to the poppy song that’s currently playing.

It’s a scenario they both can see themselves getting used to.

“Sonny and Cher, huh Johnny?” Bob teases with an amused smirk at his lips and Johnny bursts out laughing, body shaking so hard that Bob has to sit up and fix the older man with a pouty glare for wrecking his comfortable position. Johnny shoves Bob’s shoulder playfully, but he doesn’t know his own strength, and Bob practically flies back against the blankets.

“Christ, Johnny,” He sits back up and shoves the other in return, “What time is it anyway? We should probably head to bed.” He gets up to check the time back in the living room before returning to the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “2am.” He says as he ruffles his afro tiredly, “What time have you got to be on the road tomorrow?”

Johnny’s holding one of Bob’s pillows to his chest and shrugging carelessly, “Whenever the hell I want.” He eyes Bob’s bare chest and legs with longing, wanting to kiss the pale skin all over, but for now he just enjoys the view.

“Well, not all of us have that luxury.” Bob’s head suddenly turns when there’s knocking on the hotel room door.

Johnny grunts at the interruption, watching Bob who doesn’t move from his spot on the bed, letting the room go silent again.

“It’s probably, Jimi.” Johnny says when several moments have past. “I’ll answer it.” He gets up.

“Okay, but tell him to get a room and I’ll meet with him in the morning.” Bob says with uncertainty in his tone, that leaves Johnny standing in the doorway in confusion, as he thought Bob had wanted Jimi to come back.

Bob can see Johnny seems to need an explanation and he sighs overdramatically at the older man’s cluelessness, “I want to be with you alone right now, Johnny.”

“Oh,” Johnny shifts from foot to foot, “You’re sure you want me to send him away?”

“Yeah, Johnny. But tell him I’m not foolin’ about seeing him in the morning. I need his contact information.”

Johnny nods obediently and turns out the doorway without another word.

Jimi hadn’t seemed all that surprised about Bob changing his mind, and agreed that he’d get a room at the Chelsea and meet back up with Bob in the morning.

Johnny returns to the bedroom and Bob orders him to turn off all of the lights and turn on the TV that sits in the corner of the room. Johnny does, flipping through the channels until Bob finds a station he likes. It’s a country music channel, showing a program dedicated to Hank Williams. Bob had seen the same program the other day, but had no problems with watching it again.

“I forgot all about June, man. You should go back before she starts to worry.” Bob waves Johnny off as he pulls the covers over his half naked body.

Johnny climbs onto the bed with Bob, “She’s been asleep for over an hour. Besides, you’re the only one I want to fall asleep with anymore, Bobby. I wasn’t puttin’ you on when I said all that.” He leans over Bob, planting both hands by Bob’s head as he gazes down at him.

Bob’s speechless for a long moment, gulping as his heart pounds against his ribcage, “That’s—That’s good to know.”

Johnny smirks at Bob’s endearing nervousness before dipping his head down for a kiss. “Isn’t it?” He whispers against Bob’s softer than satin lips.

Bob’s arms hesitantly rise to snake around Johnny’s neck and he licks his lips, longing for more kisses, “So, uh, can we move in together now or what?”

Johnny chuckles, pressing his forehead against Bob’s and closing his eyes to drink in the moment, “Most definitely, Bobby.”

 

One Month Later

 

“My plane lands at 10:15am.” Bob says into the airport payphone. He’s got one bag thrown over his shoulder and a small carry-on suitcase at his boots.

“Okay, Bobby, I’ll be there.” Johnny replies into the home phone in his living room. He’s sat on the couch, tapping his fingers in anticipation.

Bob will be in Nashville in a little under 3 hours and Johnny is so excited he can barely contain himself, “I can’t wait to see you, it’s been too long, baby.” Johnny grins into the phone and it only widens when he hears Bob scoff, picturing the pretty blue eyes that Bob’s most definitely rolling.

“It’s only been a few weeks, John.”

“Like I said.”

“We’re used to being apart longer.”

Johnny grunts, “Yeah well, it was never any easier.”

Bob nods his agreement, “Yeah, you’re right. Lets not do that anymore.” He looks toward his gate, seeing the other passengers filing into the terminal. “They’re boarding for my flight now, I gotta go.”

“Alright, baby, I’ll see you soon. Have a good flight, okay?”

Bob nods, looking over his shoulder as he hears someone call out his name. “Oh, goodness. Some kids just recognized me, I really gotta go now.”

Johnny laughs loudly and it brings a smile to Bob’s lips. He wishes he could see Johnny’s face as he remembers how cute the older man looks when he laughs.

Bob quickly hangs up the phone and reaches for his suitcase, trying to ignore the group of teens he can see coming his way.

---

“This is your room,” Johnny opens one of the doors upstairs and lets Bob step inside. He takes Bob’s bags for him and puts them aside while Bob looks around the spacious room wordlessly.

“You don’t want to share a room?” He asks from where he stands in front of the queen-sized bed.

Johnny’s face gets hot and he nods fervently, not wanting Bob to get the wrong idea, “Of course I do. I just figured maybe you’d want something for yourself, somewhere for you to write...Also,” He scratches the side of his neck and Bob quarks an eyebrow at him, listening. “When we have visitors, you’ll probably stay in here…”

Bob nods in understanding, “Right.”

Johnny nods too and they stand there in silence for a long moment, neither really knowing what to say next.

Then, Bob smirks mischievously and sits at the edge of the bed, “Hm, I think I will sleep in here. It’s a really nice bed, Johnny.” He scoots back and lies down with his legs dangling over the side, arms spread out.

“Like hell,” Johnny steps toward the petite man, “I told you I was going to hold you in my arms every night and I meant it.” He stands over Bob, observing the sly smile at his soft lips.

“Unless we have guests.” Bob reminds Johnny who grumbles at that and reaches out to rest a hand on Bob’s thigh.

“Fuck it, I’ll sneak to your room and hold you for a while in secret.”

Bob smiles up at Johnny fondly and grabs for the hand that’s at his thigh, lacing their fingers, “What if you fall asleep?”

“I won’t, baby.” Johnny replies gently, eyes traveling across Bob’s slim frame, noticing that his face looks less gaunt than it did in May. His hair is a little bit longer too, also shinier, and his eyes look brighter than before, not so hazy. “You look good, Bobby.”

“Thank you...So...you have visitors often?” Bob asks as Johnny comes to lie down beside him. Johnny motions Bob to move up higher on the bed with him, and so they do. Bob wraps his arms around Johnny, using his broad chest as a pillow.

“At least once a week I do. Sometimes Vivian brings the kids, but they never stay overnight, unfortunately. June comes by too...Now and again, just to make sure I haven’t died.” He tries to laugh but Bob hums suspiciously at that last bit.

“You told me you broke it off with her, did that only mean the engagement?”

“No, no, we are broken up, Bobby, but I still want her in my life. I told her about...Well, don’t get mad okay?” He bites his bottom lip and gazes down at Bob warily.

Bob, stunned, immediately sits up from Johnny’s chest, blue eyes wide as they meet Johnny’s chocolate ones, “You told her about us?” He asks in complete horror.

Johnny licks his lips nervously, “I figured she deserved the truth, also...I trust her, Bobby. She won’t say a thing to anyone, you can believe it.”

Bob’s eyes narrow with uncertainty, “You should have talked to me first, Johnny.”

“I know, baby. You were so busy visiting family though, I didn’t want to ruin your vacation.” Johnny sits up too, and lifts a hand to caress Bob’s pale cheek soothingly, wanting to ease away the anger and fear in those beautiful eyes, “I promise you have nothing to worry about, June would never tell a soul.”

Bob looks away from Johnny and thinks about it,“...How did she react, man?”

Johnny twirls his finger around one of Bob’s golden brown curls as he remembers confessing to June, “She thought I was foolin’ at first, of course…” He explains quietly, “I told her I didn’t fully understand it either, and that I also didn’t believe it at first. I said that you helped me realize I can’t continue to ignore it, or pretend my feelings aren’t serious...She asked me when it’d started and how...After her anger and confusion passed she was just curious, actually interested to hear about it. She’s a good woman, Bobby, she won’t betray me.”

Bob bows his head, “I know she is, I’m just…” He gulps deeply and Johnny scoots closer to him, taking both of Bob’s hands in his own, “I guess I feel a little bit guilty, but...I’m glad you were honest with her, she does deserve the truth.” He meets Johnny’s eyes and the older man gives him a warm smile, stroking Bob’s cheek with his thumb.

“Thanks for understanding, baby.” He kisses Bob’s cheek tenderly, then buries his face in Bob’s neck as he wraps his arms around the smaller man.

Johnny couldn’t be more overjoyed right now. They’re finally together. Not just together by chance from meeting up on the road, but together together, in a house they both now live in.

Bob sighs softly and lifts a leg to wrap around Johnny’s hip as the older man nuzzles into him, “Just make sure you talk to me before you tell anyone next time.”

“I will, baby, I promise.”

“Good,” Bob wiggles his hips against the others nonchalantly, just because he can, “now kiss me already, I’ve been in Nashville for an hour and you haven’t even--”

Johnny shuts the younger man up with a firm kiss, using his dominate strength to easily push the other onto his back. Bob sighs in content at the warm weight of Johnny on top of him and turns his head to deepen the kiss, lacing his arms around the older mans shoulders. Johnny parts from the kiss so he can press a trail of wet kisses down Bob’s neck and collarbone, drawing a soft moan from the poet.

“I want you.” Bob whispers faintly, fingernails digging into Johnny’s shoulders as the other nips at his collarbone just hard enough to make Bob gasp out.

“You want me?” Johnny teases, taking ahold of Bob’s hips, he lifts them into the air and grinds his own down hard. Bob throws his head back with a shout as his semi-erect cock is rubbed against at just the right angle.

“God!” Bob cries out, hands flying back to grab at the sheets in attempt to ground himself as Johnny continues to thrust against him. “You keep that up and I’m going to ruin my fuckin’ new pants.” He grasps at Johnny’s waist, feeling himself on the brink of orgasm until Johnny slowly lets up on his rough treatment.

“Fine then, we can stop.” Johnny drops Bob’s hips and the younger bounces down against the mattress in surprise. Johnny holds himself above Bob by planting his hands besides his head, gazing down at him with a sly grin.

Bob whines at the loss of contact, and reaches down to stroke himself through his pants. “Yeah, fine then.” He turns around under Johnny and lifts his hips to unzip his pants, “I can do it myself.” He pants into the pillows and thrusts a hand inside his boxers.

Johnny however, isn’t offended at all by his exclusion. If anything he’s even more turned on by the position, grabbing the waist of Bob’s pinstripe pants and tugging them down to his knees. “God, that’s beautiful.” He rubs Bob’s ass before squeezing at it with desire. Underneath him Bob moans and lets go of his aching length to take in the sensations of Johnny’s caresses.

Johnny grabs Bob’s hips, lifting the smaller onto his knees, and grinds his clothed erection against his bare ass to let Bob know how turned on he is for him. Bob moans and buries his face into the pillow, fingers clawing at the sheets.

“Fuck, John.” It’s muffled into the pillow as Johnny grins proudly above him, holding onto one bony hip as he licks his fingertips and rubs them teasingly against Bob’s entrance. “Jesus, fuck.” Bob turns his head to scream it out into the open.

“That’s it, baby.” Johnny encourages as he carefully slides in the tip of his middle finger, “We’re here alone, there’s no one to interrupt us this time. Be as loud as you want to.” He uses his free hand to press down Bob’s shoulders into the mattress so his back is arched into the air exquisitely.

Bob submits to him with grace, waiting patiently as Johnny riffles through his drawers briefly before returning to his place behind him. Johnny rewards the 25-year-old’s patience with a gentle caress to his backside and he snaps open the bottle of lube he’d bought the other day.

Bob looks over his shoulder and bites his lip when he sees what Johnny had retrieved. “Finally we can do this properly.” He exhales a breathy moan when Johnny’s slickened digits find his hole again. Johnny’s eyes are glued to Bob’s handsome profile, watching every expression Bob makes as he carefully works him open finger by finger until he’s got 3 inside of the tight heat of his lover.

Bob’s pleading and gasping noisily as he rocks his hips back onto Johnny’s fingers, desperately trying to have Johnny reach his sweet spot. Johnny holds Bob steady with a hand at his hip, throbbing painfully in his own jeans at the enticing sight of the beautiful young man below him.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Come on, you got it.” He tugs Bob back roughly onto his fingers, and that’s when the smaller man screams as his prostate is suddenly struck, and he comes hard against the sheets without even touching his cock.

“God damn, baby.” Johnny thrusts his fingers a few more times before carefully sliding them out, watching Bob slump down face first onto the bed.

“Mmm,” Johnny can hear Bob’s groan muffled into the thick bedding as the other struggles to catch his breath.

Johnny unbuckles his own pants and grabs for the lube to help get himself off. He grasps one of Bob’s round asscheeks and squeezes it as he strokes over his length roughly. Bob looks over his shoulder and hums in interest, using his elbows to lift his ass into the air, drawing in a sharp breath when Johnny’s thumb rubs at his softened rim.

“Put it in me, baby.” Bob grinds his ass back into Johnny, and the older man curses to himself, not having to be told twice. He shoves Bob’s shoulders back down into the mattress and holds a bony hip as he presses his tip to Bob’s entrance.The lube makes the slide in easy, and they moan simultaneously, Bob’s mouth falling open at the overwhelming sensation.

“God you’re tight as fuck, baby.” Johnny hisses, hand holding Bob’s shoulder so tight that he can feel the smaller man’s blood pulsing against his palm. Bob moans his appreciation and wiggles his hips encouragingly, chuckling when the movement causes Johnny to mutter a sharp curse. “Just gonna lay there and let me do all the work, huh?” Johnny punishes Bob’s laziness with a swift smack to his right asscheek.

“Fuck!” Bob cries out in shocked pleasure, lifting himself onto his palms so he’s on all fours, “Do that again.” He begs. Johnny raises his eyebrows in amusement before sliding out and thrusting in, smacking his ass again even harder. Bob practically screams. “Yeah, god, like that. That’s so good.” He can feel tears springing to his eyes, overwhelmed at this new found pleasure.

Johnny is a little taken aback himself at Bob’s request, but is just as equally turned on by the way it makes Bob whimper as if he’s never felt anything better. “You like me spanking you, huh? Want me to punish you?” Johnny does it a third time, impossibly harder and Bob’s shoulders slump down onto the bedding, petite body trembling as he sobs into the pillows. “Punish you for sharing what’s mine with those other men? Hmm?” He switches hands, “Marlon Brando.” swatting Bob’s left cheek this time, watching the smaller man twitch underneath him, all the while thrusting into him rapidly.

Bob weeps at the mention of his past lovers, not wanting to think about it at all right now. “Never again, Bobby.” Johnny warns as he rubs soothingly over the reddened skin of the right cheek, before smacking it sharply.

“Oh, jesus…” Bob can feel his second orgasm approaching, sneaking an arm under his body to wrap his fingers about his aching length.

“This is mine, this right here.” Johnny latches onto both hips to pound impossibly harder into Bob whose eyes are squeezed shut. He’s biting into his bottom lip in attempt to stop the embarrassing noises that don’t fail to escape his mouth on each ruthless jab to his prostate.

“I’m gonna--I’m gonna come again, Johnny.” He breathes heavily into the crook of his elbow, other hand still stroking rapidly over his cock.

“Twice already when I haven’t even come yet? So fuckin’ greedy, such a greedy little fucker you are.” Johnny shakes his head as he gives Bob’s sore ass one last blinding smack.

Bob sees white, “Ahh, fuck, John!” his small body goes rigid with his second orgasm, his come shooting out onto the sheets, adding to the steadily drying stain of his previous ejaculation. He sighs in content, relaxing his upper body against the sheets.

Johnny clicks his tongue at Bob’s selfishness, “So lazy. You get off and now don’t have to do anymore work. Just get to lay there all pretty-like, don’t cha?”

Bob whines lowly as his lover continues to fuck him steadily. He can barely even think. He’d just had the best orgasm of his whole fucking life...What did Johnny say just now? “What was that, John?” He murmurs disinterestedly.

Oh. Johnny hasn’t come yet.

“Hmm,” Upon realization, Bob tightens his muscles around Johnny’s cock and that effortlessly has the country singer seeing stars, so that he’s finally releasing himself into Bob’s spent body with a deep moan.

He drapes himself over Bob’s back as they both try and catch their breath, bodies still tingling with the afterglow of their orgasms. “You kinky little shit,” Johnny pants as he carefully slides his softening erection from Bob’s spent body.

Bob winces at the strange sensation and flips over so that he doesn’t land on the pool of come below him. As the raw skin of his backside brushes with the blankets, he can’t help wiggling his ass so he can feel the sting of it. “That was so hot, Johnny. I never knew I needed that.”

Johnny hums distractedly and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair, grunting at the stain Bob had left on the freshly washed bedding. “Guess we’re sleepin’ in my room tonight.”

 

---

 

They’re now freshly showered and have relocated to Johnny’s bedroom. Bob’s sitting naked at the edge of Johnny’s bed, with the country singer’s acoustic guitar in his lap. He’s strumming a random tune and humming along to it idly while he watches Johnny go through his dresser drawer.

“You can borrow some of my shorts, or I can go grab you some from your bag?” Johnny asks Bob who shrugs indifferently, continuing to play the guitar as Johnny raises an eyebrow at him. “Or we can sleep in the nude?” he eyes Bob’s bare chest, not hating that idea at all.

Bob giggles at that but doesn’t falter on his guitar playing, he just smiles pleasantly at the older man who stands there patiently waiting for an answer, “I love you, Johnny Cash.”

Johnny’s stomach flutters, caught off guard at the words. He shakes his head in wonder as he gazes into the crystal blue eyes of the love of his life, a wide grin spreading across his face, “I love you too, Bobby Dylan.”

 

THE END