He half twirled one quickly in his right hand and slammed it down to the floor. It bounced back up and appeared, almost magically, back in his hand where he finished the twirl without missing a beat.
Fuck. Impressive.
“Yeah,” I said. “But you know you’ll have to make music, right?”
He laughed. “You know what they say about drummers, right?”
“That they’re dumb?”
He laughed again. “That they know how to bang.”
I blinked. My God, was he flirting with me?
No. That was just his line.
Aaron pushed past me, and settled himself on the drum throne behind the bar’s house drum set. He spent a few minutes adjusting the heights of the drums, cymbals, and seat.
He twirled the stick in his left hand, and I noticed a rainbow ring around his left thumb.
Inwardly I groaned.
This was not good.
“What do you want to start with?” Julie asked him.
Why didn’t they tell me he was gay? But on the other hand, why would they? As far as they knew I was straight as an arrow.
“How about ‘Best of You’,” Aaron said.
“Okay,” Julie said.
Aaron smacked his sticks together as he counted it off. I got my head in the game. It took all of one measure to figure out he was a fantastic drummer. I locked up into a perfectly tight groove with him immediately. He kept the pace rock steady without speeding up or slowing down at all, keeping me in line with the firm throbbing kick of his bass drum. He made the snare sound good: low, warm, and resonant, not poppy, high, and shallow like fuckwad had snapped it.
Pretty soon I was lost in the groove. We cranked out one song after another. The subtle high of being in the flow of the music when it’s right washed over me, and I bounced on my toes as I played.
We stopped after an hour for a break. As soon as we stopped I went back to razzing Aaron. It was like I couldn’t stop. I, who usually say very little, was running at the mouth with funny little digs. It kept skirting the border between friendly and obnoxious.
He threw his stick up in the air and caught it.
“That would be great if we needed a baton twirler,” I said. But the way I said it, my voice laced with disgust, had all three of them looking at me.
“That’s it, I’m out of here,” Aaron said. He grabbed his sticks and ran out the door.
“What?” Zeeter said.
I put my hand up to Julie and Zeeter in a stop motion, to say ‘don’t worry, I’ll fix it’, and I lunged out the door after him. I ran after Aaron. I caught up with him two doors down, in front of the closed tattoo parlor and grabbed his bicep and spun him around.
“I mean, what the fuck, man?” Aaron said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” I said. I dragged him into the thin alley between two buildings and pushed him up against the brick wall.
“What’s your damage?” Aaron said. “I just got here. I thought we were rocking it.”
“We were,” I said.
“So what the hell could possibly cause you to be all on the asshole attack?”
My gaze flicked down to his rainbow ring.
He saw it.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said. His shoulders sagged. “Really? You’ve got a problem with a gay guy in the band?”
I shook my head.
“I can’t believe I flew all this way and some homophobe is going to—”
“I’m not a homophobe,” I interrupted him.
“—make my life a living hell,” he continued.
“Aaron, no, it’s not like that.”
“No? Because you’ve been pretty shitty so far. I mean, I’ve tried to laugh it off, but, ah, yeah, funny I can take. Bullshit? I’m not going to take that crap from anyone.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, honest.”
“I’m a good drummer,” he said.
“I know, I know,” I said again. “Amazing. We haven’t sounded that good since, well, ever.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Really.”
I realized I was leaning further and further into his personal space. I got lost in his eyes, really, really blue but with tiny lines of white in them, like snow on sky. I leaned even closer.
“I can’t work with you trying to intimidate me and pick on me, Matt. I can’t.”
“I know, I know,” I said for the third time. “I’ll stop, I promise.”
I leaned in even further, and he put both his hands on my chest to push me away. But I didn’t budge.
“You’re crowding me, man.”
“I know.”
He pushed me harder. I still didn’t back off.
Right here, I thought. Whatever I do now will set up the precedent for the whole tour.
I’ve been with a lot of women. We play out five nights a week, and there are a lot of beautiful fans who think getting with a front man and saying, ‘I’m with the band’ is pretty cool. I’d never been with a guy. But I knew myself enough to know that I looked. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I’d probably try, maybe even end up with a guy someday. But I didn’t expect it to be now. Didn’t expect it to be him.
“So what the hell, man?” Aaron asked. “I don’t get it. Why are you busting my chops? Do I just rub you the wrong way? How can that be? I was in there for all of five minutes before you started razzing on me. Two minutes. We haven’t even had a conversation yet.”
“You don’t rub me the wrong way,” I said quietly. Although I could think of some rubbing the right way I could get into. My cock twitched.
“Then what?”
I just stared at him. He didn’t look my type. Didn’t dress my type. But he was magnetic. He was a hell of a drummer. And I wanted him. Bad. I didn’t know what to say.
I lifted my hand, and let the back of my knuckles drift across the space above his cheek, just barely, barely brushing him.
Aaron’s eyes bugged out wide. His expression completely ‘what the fuck?’ If I surprised myself, I surprised him a million times more.
“You ever heard the story of the little boy who dunked the girl’s hair into his inkwell?” I asked in a soft voice.
Aaron shook his head. He looked like he was in shock. I leaned in and grazed my lips against the side of his, touching more cheek than lips, again barely touching him. I heard a soft sound and realized it was me, groaning.
“Once there was a little boy in grade school, and he liked this girl so much. He sat behind her every day. He didn’t know how to talk to her, or how to get her attention, or how to be charming,” I said.
I brushed a kiss on the other side of his cheek and lips. He shivered slightly, seemingly despite himself.
“So finally he just took her long ponytail and dipped it into his inkwell. She screamed and yelled. He knew it was stupid, but at least she noticed him.”
I stopped.
Aaron was still looking at me like I was from another planet.
I grabbed the back of his neck and brought him in for a real kiss. He stopped me at the last moment, strong-arming his palms on my chest. His breath was right in my mouth when he talked.
“So you were a jerk because you liked me,” he said.
I nodded.
“But you’re straight.”
He said it as a statement but seemed to want me to respond. I frowned. I know I’m a very guy’s guy, but still. I didn’t like him making assumptions about me.
I didn’t answer him.
“You’re gay,” he said.
I hesitated.
“Oh, come on,” he said, and rolled his head around like he was looking to the heavens for help.
“I… I… ah… I…”
“You’re at least out about it, that you like guys sometimes,” he asked.