FIVE

 

The main subject of the conversation outside Brad’s office was about their new manager, unsurprisingly. As Jamie came out and Lance took his place, it carried on smoothly, with Ken more than happy to give his opinion about their new boss, and Lance, and then Jamie, only holding back slightly more than the outspoken Ken.

The consensus was, he was a stuck-up businessman with a stick so firmly shoved up his ass that he probably would need actual medical help to dislodge it. Bossy, domineering, with veins that ran green instead of crimson, none of Aaron’s bandmates seemed all that impressed.

“What if he’s just like Lester?” Ken finally whispered, when Lance had come out to tell Ken that it was his turn to go in. “What if he starts to steal from us, too? Lester tried to control us, right?”

Aaron frowned and shook his head, and though it wasn’t usual for him to speak up, though he normally would have left the moment the meeting was over and wouldn’t have heard this conversation at all, he found that he couldn’t, for once, keep his silence.

“He’s not like Lester,” Aaron informed them, and three sets of surprised eyes turned his way. It was, Aaron noted with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, like they would have sooner expected the walls to speak up than him. He wasn’t that quiet, was he?

“I mean, we don’t know yet …” Lance started, but Aaron shook his head. He knew. He’d had a bad feeling about Lester for ages, just no proof, but he had completely different feelings when he looked at Brad.

“I know. He’s not like Lester.” He needed some sort of reason, though, because when he looked into the eyes of his bandmates, he saw shock fading toward a sort of suspicion. Not that there was anything for them to be suspicious about. “Lara wouldn’t let that happen. There’s no way she’s given him, or anyone, enough freedom to steal from us.”

Which was all perfectly logical, right? Aaron thought so, but when Ken got up and went into Brad’s office, the other man gave Aaron a long, slow, lingering look, like he thought he could see through Aaron’s skin and right into his soul. Thankfully, he was gone soon enough, and Lance and Jamie took off, hand in hand.

Aaron was alone, and usually, he liked it that way. It gave him time to think, and God knew that right now, he had things to think about. What was he going to do about Leah, for instance? She had responded so well when he had just spent the time with her, but time was one thing that he had in short supply, and it was about to get even shorter with this tour.

Sighing, Aaron rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. This was a crucial time, but surely he could take a few months to do a tour? Besides, he needed to. He needed the money if he was going to be able to take care of his sister, because who knew what sort of job he could get.

He could go back to school, he supposed. When his parents had been in that accident, Aaron had just been about to go into the second year of his undergrad degree and had been starting to think about a career in medicine. No reason he couldn’t go back to that, but that, too, would take money.

The minutes ticked on, and Aaron gave a soft hiss as he waited. It wasn’t fun being alone for once, and he found himself in the highly weird, for him, anyway, situation of wishing that he wasn’t. Wishing that Lance and Jamie had stuck around to chatter at each other and him.

Because the truth of the matter was, no matter how much he might try to deny it, he was thinking about the cab ride with Brad. Thinking about the brush of their bodies together, the way their fingers had met as they both reached for the door.

It seemed to take forever, but Ken finally stepped out of Brad’s office and into the waiting room, a strange look on his face. Deeply thoughtful, Ken was once more staring at Aaron in a way that he didn’t know how to interpret, and Aaron fought the urge to fidget and rose to his feet instead.

“He said to wait,” Ken informed him, looking into Aaron’s eyes. “He’ll call you in when he’s ready.”

Aaron sighed and fell back into the chair. That figured. He’d been sitting there waiting, doing nothing, for hours now. Why did Brad need time? He hadn’t for the rest of the guys. He’d taken them one after the other.

Was this some sort of game? If so, Aaron couldn’t imagine what Brad hoped to gain by it. Maybe he just wanted Aaron off guard, but if so, why him, specifically? Why not Lance, or Ken?

“I’d watch your back.” Ken had been standing there, just giving Aaron that same odd look, and despite Aaron having just wished that he hadn’t been alone, he found himself nervous once he actually wasn’t. “If I were you.”

Aaron sighed softly. It was a strange thing to say, no doubt about it, but he supposed it was really none of his business why Ken was on about this. So he just shrugged, and Ken stared at him with those turquoise eyes, which were usually so oblivious and clueless, but right now they seemed anything but.

It was a relief when Ken left, even if Aaron was alone with his thoughts again. His bandmates all seemed like they were wondering about him now, about him and Brad, though there was nothing to wonder about. The best way to show that, he figured, was to say nothing, to let it pass, because denial would probably only make them more sure.

The minutes passed, though Aaron had to keep checking his phone because it seemed to him that each minute had been encased in honey, ticking by to the point where he would swear that each minute took ten minutes to pass. Finally, Aaron did lurch to his feet, pacing back and forth across the carpeted floor. He had things to do, what sort of power trip was this that Brad was playing at?

Just when he thought that he would just burst in and get this over with, Brad’s office door opened and the man stood there, as calm as he had been the whole time that Aaron had interacted with him. There was even a faint smirk on his lips like it amused him to see Aaron pacing.

Bastard. Maybe Ken had been right, but no. Brad may be an asshole, but Aaron would be willing to bet that he was at least an honest asshole. Honest, mocking, self-confident, domineering.

And so, so damn hot. Aaron was only human, though it annoyed him sometimes. When Brad stepped back, exaggeratedly sweeping his hand in an elaborate gesture of welcome, Aaron swept past him and into the other man’s office.

“Let’s get this over with,” Aaron demanded, sitting down on the very edge of the chair.

“Okay.” Brad arched his eyebrows at him, but if he was surprised by Aaron’s demands otherwise, he didn’t show it. Instead, he steepled his fingers and looked at Aaron, as though sizing him up for a new suit. Or a coffin. “You’re the biggest asset that I have right now. Maybe the biggest one that the whole record label has.”

Whatever Aaron had expected, it wasn’t that. For a moment, he just stared, certain that he had heard wrong, but Brad continued, and there could be no mistaking what he was saying.

“I think you have something, Aaron. Something that the other Lost Boys don’t have. And I think that you need to think about your future.”

Aaron held up a hand, just trying to catch his breath. Those were some rather remarkable statements that Brad had just made, and Aaron needed some time to catch up.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Aaron finally asked, and Brad actually chuckled softly, leaning toward Aaron over his desk.

“You’re the Justin Timberlake. The Beyoncé. You know what I’m talking about? You’re the one that could go on to do great things, to have a far bigger career alone than you could have with the Lost Boys.” Brad smirked a little at him, as though sensing his disquiet. “You’re single, for one thing, the only one of the Lost Boys that still is, and that makes you attainable. I’ve been watching concert videos, and you have the best total package in terms of your talents.”

Aaron frowned and shook his head. He got by, sure. He had been in dance for his whole childhood, but so had Ken. And his voice was distinctive, perhaps, but Jamie had the more classically beautiful, trained one.

“More than that,” Brad continued, as though oblivious to Aaron’s wordless objections, “You’re still mysterious to the fans. You never talk about your personal life, and you only give interviews when you absolutely have to. People are curious about you. We can capitalize on that.”

“What exactly are you suggesting,” Aaron managed because seriously, this was all as surprising to him as if Brad had told him that they were going to be doing a concert tour of the moon.

“Easy. Sign with me for at least a couple of years. Go on this tour,” Brad sounded excited, didn’t he? He was really serious about this, and Aaron was positive suddenly that he was getting an offer that none of the other Lost Boys had. “Then we’ll launch you as a solo star. I’ll manage you. You can stay with the Lost Boys for another year or so, but put out a solo album. In a year or so, you can leave the band entirely.”

Growing up, Aaron had had dreams about this sort of thing. About being a solo star, about his name all in lights, about fame and fortune. What kid hadn’t had dreams like that? But in a way, this was a dream come true.

But what about Ken, and Lance, and Jamie? What would happen to them? And more than that, what would happen to Leah, stuck in that group home for troubled teenagers? What would happen to her while Aaron went haring off after his dreams of glory and riches?

“No,” Aaron spoke the one word bluntly, and he saw Brad’s faint recoil. This wasn’t a man who was used to being told no, was it? Well, it was a fine time for him to learn. “Not interested.”

There was a brief silence as they both tried to deal with the enormity of what Aaron had just turned down. It was the sort of thing that many people in his position would kill for, and that wasn’t a secret to either of them.

Brad got up and went to perch on the very edge of the desk, towering over Aaron now. Probably done for psychological effect, but it wouldn’t change anything. Aaron had more to think about than himself, which was something that he didn’t think a man like Brad could even understand.

“You would get a raise,” Brad finally said, and Aaron sighed and rose to his own feet, which brought him to a level just slightly above the other man, who was perched on the desk. Brad was usually quite a bit taller than Aaron, and it was sort of nice to be at more or less the same level.

“I’ll tell you what I’m willing to do,” Aaron forced his voice to be as calm and businesslike as he possibly could. “I will sign a continuation of my current contract for the duration of the tour. Which I’m guessing is going to be about …” he let his voice trail off, and Brad obliged him.

“Five months.”

“Right.” Aaron nodded. “So I’ll sign an extension for six months.”

Brad stared at him like he thought the force of his gaze could change Aaron’s mind. And for a lot of people, that probably worked. Brad struck Aaron as the sort of man who was used to getting his way, but this was one time when he wasn’t going to.

Brad stood up then, and Aaron was once more shorter than him, not that it mattered. It didn’t change anything. Still, Aaron had to catch his breath, because this close it was obvious that Brad wasn’t just taller. He was massive in general, and, unfortunately for Aaron, that was exactly the sort of thing that he found irresistibly sexy.

“And then what? Six months and then what are you going to do?” Brad asked, but Aaron kept silent. He had already been over how he didn’t go into his personal life, and Brad should remember that. “You’re going to waste your potential. You could be big. Huge. Or do you have so many other offers that you can turn this one down?”

Aaron looked up into those golden eyes, glimmering with irritation, and shook his head. Brad was so close, so very close. Aaron could almost feel the heat radiating through them, and all of the tension which had been there, just under the surface of their negotiation, burst free then, something that Aaron couldn’t deny.

“Potential? I find it hard to believe that you really think I’m as talented as all that.” Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly at Brad, but the other man didn’t look away, as Aaron was used to and had half expected. “Maybe this had nothing to do with my potential. Maybe I’m just your type.”

Something crossed Brad’s face then, just the briefest flicker of uncertainty, of hesitation, something that most people probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Aaron did, and at that moment, he realized something.

He was right. Maybe not about everything, but any wondering that Aaron had been doing about whether Brad felt the same things that Aaron had, if the tension was coiled as tightly in the pit of Brad’s stomach as it was in Aaron’s, it was all resolved then and there.

Brad wanted him.

Just a step or two, Brad backed off, alarm in his eyes, but at the same time, his hands settled on the back of a chair and gripped it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was a tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there before, a clenching, and it was obvious to Aaron that he was around someone who was very tightly, very carefully, keeping themselves under control.

The funny thing was, if Brad had done what Aaron did, Aaron would have probably stalked right out of the room. Or would he? It was hard to know, but what he did know was that it was suddenly just not something that he could resist. He leaned in, closing the short distance between himself and Brad, and pressed his lips lightly against the older man’s.

What was the point of it? Why had Aaron gone for it? He honestly couldn’t say. Maybe it was just to try to shock Brad or to show that Aaron wasn’t the sort of person who could be manipulated. Whatever the reason was, he never, not in a million years of trying, could have imagined the forces which would jolt through his body, centered on his lips but shooting straight for his cock and balls.

It didn’t help when Brad let out a soft gasp, one so quiet that Aaron felt it against his lips rather than heard it. Still, even that was remarkable, feeling Brad lose even that much control made Aaron more confident.

He had maybe a second to enjoy that confidence, a second when Brad hesitated, and Aaron had no idea which way he was going to go. Most likely, Brad would push Aaron away, and Aaron would let him. It had been a stupid idea to kiss him in the first place.

Brad’s large, strong hands settled on Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron braced himself, sure he was about to be thrust away. But Brad didn’t push. Instead, he tugged Aaron closer, so that their bodies were pressed flush against each other, and the kiss, which had been meant to be light and brief and more testing it out than anything else, quickly changed.

It seemed that Brad had a specific way that he kissed, and Aaron had little choice but to give in to it. His mouth was pressed open, and a hot tongue swept into his mouth, and Aaron’s knees went a little bit weak as his mouth was plundered.

Taking advantage, Brad shifted them both so that Aaron felt the edge of the desk against the backs of his legs. He was pushed down onto it, sitting down on papers, or maybe on the wood of the desk, and honestly not knowing or caring which one. The kiss had his whole attention.

It wasn’t a kiss like any that Aaron had had before. Granted, it had been a few years, since he’d been in school and his parents had still been around, since the last time, but he would remember something like this. Brad took control of his lips, his tongue, completely, and Aaron seemed to have little choice but to arch toward him, to give himself over, to try to plaster his body as close to Brad’s as he possibly could.

All of the tension, all of the attraction, which had been simmering through Aaron since the moment his fingers had first touched Brad, it finally all broke free, all exploded, with a force as intense and as irresistible as a volcano erupting. He could resist this no more than he could stand the heat of it, and when Brad pushed Aaron’s legs apart, when he slid between them and when Aaron felt the heat of the other man’s cock pressing hard and demanding against his own, that was when he knew he was lost.

Everything was happening so fast, and Aaron’s head spun not only with desire but with the attempt to try to catch up, to make some sort of sense of all of this. His jeans were drawn down, his underwear, leaving him bare and open and vulnerable.

“Tell me to stop.” Brad’s voice was hoarse, all of that iron control finally starting to bend, to come close to breaking. “Tell me to stop, Aaron, and I will.”

Meanwhile, Aaron heard the crinkle of the foil wrapper, and when he glanced down, he saw that Brad had his fussy suit pants opened, a thick, swollen cock eased out through the open zipper.

It was hard to think, hard to even breathe, and yet, Aaron somehow knew that if he wanted this to stop, it would stop. Brad meant what he was saying. So he just shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to ask Brad to stop, because this was so completely and utterly perfect, even if it was equally wrong.

Instead, he just kissed him again, and his tongue plunged hotly into Brad’s mouth as he felt the furtive little movements of Brad slipping the condom over that impressively thick cock of his.

“Just do it,” Aaron finally gasped out the words, asked for it, though he wouldn’t have thought it possible even half an hour ago. The heat, the lust, which rose in him was unlike anything he ever could have even comprehended, and all control was quickly being lost.

The worst part was, part of him wanted to lose that control, and when Brad pressed the tip of his slick, sheathed cock against Aaron’s hole, he was more than ready. Bracing himself for what he knew was going to be an incredibly intense experience, he spread his legs wide, propping himself up on the desk with his elbows as he looked into those gorgeous, glimmering eyes.

Brad was big, and thick, and hot, and yes, there was a slight bit of stinging when the other man suddenly pushed his hips forward and started to slip inside of him. But what there also was was a deep, shuddering sense of satisfaction, a sense of rightness that made every bit of the slight discomfort worth it.

More than worth it. Aaron locked his legs around Brad and tried to pull him as deeply inside himself as he possibly could, somehow eager to be fully linked, fully joined, to him.