The last night. And it had to be the longest one yet. Tate groaned as he flopped over to his other side, cursing under his breath at the surge of pain in his face. The door to his room opened softly and he sat up. Pulse quickening, he turned his head so he could see the man coming in. His left eye was a bit better, but faces were still a little blurry from a distance.

Security is right outside. Whoever it is can’t be dangerous. He forced himself not to freak out, but he couldn’t recognize the man in the dim light. Who was on shift now? The new guy? Balthazar? Skull?

“If you don’t feel like company, son, let me know.” Skull’s calm voice eased Tate’s fear. The old roadie stood in the doorway, watching the man approach the bed. “North wanted to see you. It’s past visiting hours, but he thought it would be best to come when the rest of the guys weren’t here. I’m inclined to agree.”

North? Tate scowled as the man stopped at the side of his bed, finally close enough to make out. “What the fuck do you want?”

In contrast to the sleek, stylish outfit he’d worn to the club, North stood there now wearing a pair of ratty old blue jeans, a blue T-shirt that looked like it had been washed a thousand times, and a plain black hoodie. Comfortable, normal clothes, but they didn’t distract from how hot the man was. Golden brown hair all disheveled, pale blue eyes that could make Tate hard at a glance. And those fucking lips, lips that were soft, slightly plump, but nice and firm in a hot kiss.

Everything about North was arousing, like he’d been sculpted in the form of pure walking seduction. He’d made Tate feel like he was the only one in the club he desired for a few perfect moments.

Then like he wasn’t worth his time.

So Tate wasn’t buying the regret that filled North’s eyes as he stood silently by the bed.

“You gonna say something or did you come here to stare at me?” Tate pushed himself up against the pillows, hating how stiff and tired he was. If he had to face North, he’d rather do it on his feet.

North sighed, raking his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I knew exactly what I wanted to say when I got here, but now—”

“Don’t you dare.” Tate’s eyes burned as he made out the pity in North’s gaze. He swallowed hard, refusing to cry in front of this man. “Don’t look at me and feel worse because you didn’t do this. I fucked up. I took a drink from a stranger and shit happened.”

“I shouldn’t have walked away.” North shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “I should have made sure you were all right. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Yeah, well you found someone you wanted more. I didn’t want you sticking around because I need a fucking babysitter.” Tate let out a bitter laugh. “I get enough of that from my own guys. Don’t need it from you.”

Brow furrowed, North shook his head. “I didn’t find someone I wanted more. Fuck, I wanted you since the moment I first saw you.”

Tate chewed on his bottom lip, trying to fold his arms over his chest, groaning when the cast got in the way. Being flattered that a man like North was interested in him was what got him in this position in the first place.

He laughed again. “You wanted me the minute you saw me in the club. Big deal.”

North tipped his head back and sighed. He moved his hands from his pockets, letting them hang limply at his sides. “No, from way before that. From the first time I saw one of your music videos, but you were out of reach, so it was more like a…”

“Don’t tell me you had a fucking crush on me.” Tate’s lips parted when North met his eyes, not laughing. Hardly blinking. “Get out of here.”

“I’m serious.” North carefully sat on the edge of the bed, watching Tate as if waiting to be told to get lost for real. “When we were invited to tour with Winter’s Wrath I figured I might finally get a chance with you. But then I realized your guys never let you out of their sight. I tried coming up with a whole plan to distract them, but Annette wouldn’t help me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Tate’s eyes narrowed as he considered how close Annette and Connor had seemed earlier. “Is she playing Connor for you? Is that part of the ‘distraction’?”

Eyes wide, North leaned close. “How fucked up do you think I am?”

“Considering what you just told me?” Tate smirked when North made a face. “Pretty fucked up. But you didn’t answer my question. Why tell me all this?”

Shrugging, North looked away from him, grabbing the cat sitting on the rolling table by the bed and thumbing the eye buttons on its hands. “Because I’ve been a complete asshole. Because I’ll have to see you every day and I don’t want you looking at me the way you are now. Like I tried to use you and ditched you when I didn’t get my own way.”

“But that’s exactly what you did.”

North winced. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

If Tate was smart, he’d tell North to fuck off and get some sleep. He wasn’t sure what the man wanted from him. Forgiveness? When it came down to it, there wasn’t much to forgive. North was a selfish, spoiled artist and Tate had had his fill of those. He didn’t need some kind of commitment, but damn, why was it so difficult to find someone to enjoy himself with, without feeling like shit after?

Brave had settled down. Connor had some kind of moral epiphany and wouldn’t touch him anymore. Dariel might be interested, but things with him were going nowhere fast.

Tate could get laid a dozen times a day if he stuck with fangirls, but he got so tired of performing in bed like he was still on stage. The older women were a bit better, they were experienced and amazing in bed, but they didn’t see him. They saw a fantasy. Fucking the rockstar.

Was North so different though? He’d seen Tate as unobtainable. When that changed he decided he’d be up to the challenge of getting Tate alone. Down on his knees, pressed against the closest hard surface…

All right, that didn’t sound so bad. Tate had been fucked by a man who’d put in less effort.

But North had lost interest real quick. Him showing up out of guilt, and so their bands could be cool together, was hard to swallow. Would he be like the rest of the guys now? Treat Tate like he was some fragile kid completely off limits?

Tate snatched his plush cat from North and hugged it to his chest with his good arm. He narrowed his one working eye at the man. “We’re good, okay? I’ll tell Brave to lay off you. I already agreed to help Quinton however I can. Is that all?”

“No.” North cocked his head to one side. “They’d freak if I was here, wouldn’t they? Your band. The roadies.”

“Skull let you in, so no.”

“You sure about that?” North put his hand on Tate’s thigh, smoothing his hand over the sheet that did little to shield his bare flesh from the hot touch. “If they knew I had no intention of following their rules…” His lips slid into a lazy smile that had blood throbbing into Tate’s swelling cock. “They’d do their best to make sure we’re never alone together.”

Swallowing, Tate focused on North’s hand, shuddering as it moved closer to the top of his thigh, fingertips brushing the base of his erection. “You out of options since your band expects you to behave?”

North release a husky laugh. “I’m never out of options. I told you I want you.”

“You wanted me.”

“That hasn’t changed.” North slid his hand back down, digging his fingers into the muscle of Tate’s thigh as he leaned forward. “You’re right, they will be watching us. My band and yours. But that won’t stop me.” He moved closer to Tate, brushing their lips together softly. “If you want to be discreet, I’ll play along. But every chance I get I’ll have your dick in my mouth. My hands all over you. You won’t take a step without feeling how hard I pounded into your ass. When you kiss me, you’ll taste your cum on my lips.”

“Fuck.” Tate’s eye shut as North kissed him, all the promise of his words in the pressure of his lips. Tate groaned as North worked his hand under the sheet, taking a firm grip on his dick. He’d never had a man touch him like he had every right to his body. Not without drugs or alcohol involved.

North might have started out with a crush, but the way he kissed Tate, the way he stroked him, smiling against Tate’s lips when he thrust up into his hand, he wasn’t crushing on him anymore. He saw them as equals.

“I can’t stay long, but I want to suck your dick until you come. I want you to think about what I’ll do to you the next time I have you all to myself.” North shoved the sheet aside, lowering his lips to the bare expanse of flesh where the hospital gown had ridden up. He kissed along the center of Tate’s chest, inching down with each brush of his lips. “I can’t make you forget what happened. But I can make sure you never question how much I want you again.”

A sweet shock of sensation zipped up Tate’s spine as North enveloped his dick with his mouth. He didn’t take his time, which was fucking amazing. There was no hesitation to worry about. No questions about whether Tate was sure, as if he wasn’t old enough to make up his own mind. North sucked his dick like it was all he wanted. As though Tate’s muffled moans were all he needed to keep going.

He moved faster and faster, lips sliding smoothly as his saliva slicked Tate’s dick. He palmed Tate’s balls, massaging them lightly as he took him in deep. Then he used some saliva to slip his finger down, pressing against Tate’s back hole.

Licking up Tate’s cock, he gazed at him, eyes hooded. “When was the last time a man fucked this tight ass?”

Sucking in air through his parted lips, Tate shook his head. “Does it matter? Please—oh fuck!—don’t stop!”

One finger penetrated and Tate bit his tongue, bracing against the burn.

“Probably not, but I need to know if I’m dealing with a virgin ass.” North rolled his tongue around the head of Tate’s cock. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Brave…” Tate bucked his hips as North curved his finger in deep. “Oh God, I hardly remember, but he fucked me. I can take it.”

“Mmhmm.” North withdrew his finger, then spit in his palm. “We’ll see. If you don’t remember, he couldn’t have been that good.”

That competitive tone should have annoyed Tate, but instead, it brought out a raspy laugh. “You’re too much. If the one time he fucked me while I was stoned is where you’re setting the bar, you’re not aiming very high.”

North stopped slicking his spit over Tate’s hole and stared at him. “He drugged you?”

“No. I…” Shit, he didn’t want to think about his issues now. Not when he was so close to having one of the best orgasms of his life. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday. If I don’t kill you for torturing me.”

“Fair enough.” North pushed two fingers against him, flicking the tip of Tate’s dick with his tongue. “Press back and let me in. Fuck, I wish it was my dick inside you.” His fingers eased in as Tate followed his instruction. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

As North’s mouth took in his length, Tate pressed his fist to his lips to keep from crying out and bringing in the whole hospital staff. The steady thrusts in his ass, the wet slide on his dick, built up a deep-set pressure within he couldn’t hold down. He shuddered as the dam on the purest ecstasy shattered, every splinter delving into his nerves, causing him to buck as North swallowed around his cock, the swollen head deep in his throat.

Another curve of North’s fingers drained him, until he was shaking and gasping in air. He jerked when North drew away, still clenching sporadically. A cold breeze on his damp length brought him back to reality. They’d had fun, but North should go. The knowledge made the aftermath of the pleasure dim.

Tate hadn’t ever cuddled after sex, but he wished they could. He hated that emptiness that came once someone was done with him. But he never asked his lovers for anything. The groupies couldn’t be given the wrong impression, and he hadn’t been about to ask Brave or Connor to hold him.

Not when everything had gone to hell before they’d even finished fucking.

Stepping off the bed, North started across the room. He held a finger up, then disappeared into the bathroom. The water ran. Shut off.

And North returned to his side. “I have a crazy idea.”

“Okay…” Tate tugged at the sheet to cover himself, not sure what to expect.

“What if I stay?” North fixed his gaze on a spot on the floor, rolling his shoulders. “Is it weird that I want to? I can just sit here, quiet so you can sleep. I’m sure Skull will let me know when I gotta ghost out of here so your guys don’t see me, but…that’s not now, right?”

“That would be really cool.” Tate looked over the bed. It wasn’t big, but now that his IV was out, he could make some space if he scooted to the edge. He cleared his throat, not sure North would like the idea, but fuck it. “You could lay down with me. I mean, if you want.”

At first, North didn’t move. Tate inhaled deep, bracing himself for laughter, or straight up rejection. The man wanted to stay because he still felt guilty. Maybe he wanted to make sure he could keep Tate hanging on for next time. He wasn’t done with Tate yet.

Shrugging off his hoodie, North laid it on the table, then sat on the edge of the bed. “You gonna let me in?”

Tate’s mouth went dry. He nodded, trying to move over as much as possible while adjusting his arm.

North smiled and shook his head. “Sit up for a minute.”

Sitting up, Tate watched North as he lay on the bed beside him. He stared when North patted his chest.

“Put your head here and rest your fucked up arm on my stomach.” North slipped an arm around Tate, helping him adjust his arm as he positioned himself, dragging up the thin blanket to cover them both. “Comfy?”

Head on North’s chest, half his lower body over the other man, Tate couldn’t speak at first. He closed his eyes as North brought his free arm up, curving it around the back of Tate’s neck. The way North held him was so natural, so relaxed. He didn’t want anything. He seemed happy just to have Tate close to him.

No one else in Tate’s life had ever done this for him. Sure, Alder put up with Tate leaning against him, or putting his head on his lap, but almost like one would with a puppy. That had been enough. Sometimes Tate just needed some affection and he’d take what he could get.

This was more. For some reason, he felt like he was fulfilling that same need for North. A temporary fix, but one they’d both gone without for too long.

There were things they should both say. Things that would clarify what they were doing. But Tate was grateful to hear North’s breaths even out, to know he’d fallen asleep and left all those words unsaid. All the warnings, all the ‘don’t get attached.’

Were they really necessary? Whatever happened between them worked because there were no expectations. Tate had a feeling they had a lot in common. They both wanted more than they could give. They were both a mess and no one really understood them at all.

But when they let that go they could have moments like this. A steady heartbeat so close. A warm touch. A night when all the longing was fulfilled, even if it wouldn’t last.

Reality would come back to knock them down again tomorrow.

Until then, they’d finally found an escape. And that had to be enough.