This is a story of sex between consenting legal adults. This story does not in any way reflect the true sexuality of James Bourne of the band Busted (except for in my head.) The usual rules apply: 1)Don't read this if it's illegal where you live 2)Don't read this if you "hate fags" 3)Don't read this when your mom's home
"You can't just leave me sitting here unseen to!"
James half paused as he left the hotel room. He rolled his eyes -- he'd heard that line a hundred times since he laid down "All the way" on the album, and ever since groupies had quoted it at him when he'd failed to get jiggy with them after gigs. He just wanted to fit in -- the other lads had had their share of groupies when things weren't working out with respective girlfriends. Charlie had a penchant for pouring champagne over a girl's breasts while Matt would take older women to his room after gigs -- often PR assistants, stage hands and (it hand been known) mothers of some of the younger fans. They'd tried to initiate James into this, their new lifestyle. On the night of their final gig they'd even hired a prostitute for him, with the instructions "Here's five grand, do whatever he wants." James had ended up talking to her for the whole night and playing her some of his songs. He discovered she had talent and was only on the game until she broke the record industry. James hooked her up with a contact on the inside, and the young girl was getting recognised and known for her great voice. This didn't help his predicament any, however. It wasn't that he was asexual at all -- he was as horny as any other healthy nineteen year old -- but he often found himself thinking "There must be more". Dejected, he found himself in the hotel bar, now closed for the night. If he'd wanted he could get it opened especially for him -- it'd happened before. But tonight he just wanted to sit, to be alone. He took a stool at the bar and rested his head on the darkened grate of the shutters preventing him from reaching the alcohol within and sighed. He ran his hands over his chin. He was trying to get a little stubble to get away from the "Bubblegum Pop Punk" image that had stuck to the guys like glue since Year 3000. It was important that their next single -- Sleeping With The Light On -- do well, and for that they needed recognition as grown-ups, with instructions from Universal Island to "Just shave a little less often guys". A loan silhouette mopped the floor at the lit doorway to the kitchens. The others had thought the shaving instruction hilarious. Charlie loved experimenting with his hair and sideburns, whereas Matt could not go without shaving for too long without risking his acne flaring up. James had found the whole thing a bore. He was in the business for the music, not for the image. His heart longed for more -- for something other to what he had found. His outlet was his music, his outlet for the longing inside him aching to burst out. If only he knew what he was longing FOR.
"Is everything OK? I could get someone to open up if you...?" The question tailed off as James looked up sharply, annoyed at the intrusion into his thoughts. He saw not a jobsworth hotel manager but a boy no older than himself with a mop in one hand, obviously a summer job. He felt a sudden sympathy for the guy, and an ache of jealousy too. At the end of his shift, the other guy would go home, go to sleep in his own bed and maybe, the next day being Sunday, wake up to a cooked breakfast, homemade by his mother with love. James had loving parents too, but they were currently over a hundred miles away, at home in Southend. Regretful of his sharp look, he apologised to the hotel worker and said that no thanks, he'd be fine at the bar.
"I'll leave you to it then. Just give us a call if you need anything" said the worker. He was maybe just under 6ft -- about as tall as James but shorter than Matt and Charlie. A waxed fin of dark brown hair topped his head, and the crystal lights reflected hints of red in it from the summer. James considered it as his new look -- he needed something since his hair was "messy" at best, "lame" at worst. Suddenly, without thinking he blurted "Could you stay?"
Taken aback, the worker paused. The unpleasantness of his nylon uniform didn't detract from his overall pleasantness, he had clear skin and dark brown eyes a friendly, genuine face too. James hadn't seen many of those recently -- a series of yay sayers and record company execs, all interested in one thing -- the bulge in his wallet.
"Sure. I mean, I should be cleaning the toilets so... Sure!"
The boy came to the stool next to James and paused. Changing his mind, he moved so that there was one barstool between them before sitting. James was surprised to feel an ache of disappointment in him that his new companion hadn't sat closer. He just felt lonely. Longed to be held, to be touched.
"I'm Jamie." He obviously felt he needed to break the silence, and James was welcome of the distraction.
"Jamie... I used to get called that, when I was little" James teased. He felt the need to complete the introduction. "I'm James". He held out his hand, Jamie took it and shook it firmly.
"I know", Jamie said. "I know you won't remember, I really wouldn't expect you to... We've kinda met before." James cast his mind back... he saw so many faces from day to day... he had to focus on remembering his friends and family back home, these new people from his new life meant nothing to him, not really. "Twice. Once at that tacky book signing in an Asda and again at Top of the Pops the other week."
James lifted his head in acknowledgement... That, he hadn't expected. Jamie was...a boy, why would he be at a signing? Inwardly he sighed. "There with a girlfriend?"
"Hardly", Jamie smirked knowingly. "I'm actually... a bit of a big fan." He looked down, ashamed. "I'm doing this shift for free, I took it from someone else just so I could work in the same building as you guys for the night. I even paid the room service guy to let me bring you any orders, so I might get to meet you." He laughed a little. James noticed how his eyes sparkled in the reflected light of the doorway. "Sad huh?"
"So essentially, you're a stalker." James held Jamie's stare, deadpan before breaking out in a grin himself. He loved terrifying people who might think they'd offended him in some way. Jamie also relaxed and laughed.
"Yeah, a stalker's it. My mate tries to call us `Teds, you know, like the name they're giving the Busted fans out there? But I'm having none of it."
"How come?"
"I'm not a 14 year old girl. I don't wear pre-customised crap from Claire's accessories" (Jamie quickly slid his sweatband off his wrist and pocketed it) "and I like your music, I don't just think you're fit and that qualifies you for fame." James looked up, impressed. It was about bloody time someone admired their talent and their music. He quickly launched back into comedy mode though. "You don't think I'm fit?" He'd meant it as a joke, to keep the banter up between them but the look in Jamie's eyes told him he'd just gotten himself a whole lot deeper than that.
"I didn't say that. In fact, you could say... `I only dream of you'?" At that Jamie leaned in and kissed James. The night had gotten suddenly a whole lot weirder.
It was only a soft kiss, no urgency and certainly no tongue. James was taken by surprise but he felt something in that kiss that he had never felt with any of the teenage groupies before it. He felt tenderness and loving and, above all, a sense of understanding.
All Jamie knew that his heart was about to burst through his chest, and that an all-too-familiar sinking feeling was starting in his chest. He pulled back, expecting at least a curse and an insult, at worst a punch in the face and good kicking from the rest of the band.
"I'm sorry-" he started. "I don't know why I always have to RUIN things." His hands scrunched up the corner of James's shirt that he had clenched while they clinched. "Please don't get me fired, do whatever you want to me, punch me if you're pissed off, but please -- I need this jo-"
"Just shut up a minute," said James. This was all too much for him. He needed time to take in what he had just enjoyed, needed a moment to process the consequences of his actions and future actions. This was certainly uncharted territory for him, but then why did it feel so...right? "Can I try something?" His hand met Jamie's on his blue Bench shirt, opened by two buttons due to the warm night air. This time it was his head that tilted as their lips met, and he took things to the next level, pushing his tongue through his lips to meet Jamie's. Again, it was a short kiss, a tender kiss but a kiss that had huge, potentially life-changing consequences for the both of them. When they broke apart for air, this time it was not the awkward silence that followed the last kiss, it was a lustful electricity that had been lacking in all of James's former relationships.
"Holy shit." Jamie certainly knew how to express himself, James thought with an inward laugh.
"Holy shit is right", said James. "What are we going to do about this?"
Jamie winked at him, and in that wink he conveyed more affection and caring than James had experienced his whole time on the road. "What are we going to do about THAT?" James followed his gaze to his own crotch, where his hard schlong had already tented the heavy material of his skater shorts. James chose those shorts for their ability to hide embarrassing situations like this, but while seated and in this state of arousal, nothing could hide his true desires. Jamie tentatively moved his hand from James's leg, where it still rested holding his shirt after their first kiss and placed it on his crotch, feeling his hardness under his palm. Involuntarily, James groaned and ground up into Jamie's fist as their lips met for a third, more permanent time. Their constant promotion had meant very little privacy and very little time for rest, so James's sexual frustration had built up over the last week with no release from his best friend -- his right hand. The result was now, without warning, he bit down on Jamie's lips as he came in his shorts, dampening Jamie's hand. He stopped his kissing action but his lips never left Jamie's as he breathed heavily from his nose as pulse after pulse of enjoyment ran through him.
Meanwhile, Jamie's hardness intensified as he felt James unload beside him. He needed to get off, and quickly. He pulled off his tacky uniform trousers as James recovered and stood, his bulging briefs not hiding anything. James stared, transfixed at Jamie and went to him, kneeling down and removing the final barrier between him and his prize. It was the first, other than his own, that he had ever seen hard, and he was relieved the see that they compared well in size. In fact, he could imagine it as his own. He grasped it and Jamie thrusted unconsciously into his fist. He looked up at Jamie's pleading eyes and knew what he must do. As liberated as he felt by this new take on his own sexuality, he knew that he still needed to prepare himself for what he was about to do. He was about to become the lowest of the low -- a cocksucker -- and about to accept all the connotations that came with it. The looked at the penis right in front of him and closing his eyes, licked it from base to tip. It tasted of nothing... just of skin, no worse than sucking his own thumb. James looked at it again -- it twitched of its own accord. Jamie had meanwhile slumped back onto the barstool and had his eyes closed, already, it seemed, in ecstasy from the small lick James had given him. Again, James went down on Jamie, this time taking the entire head of his cock in his mouth.
Jamie groaned as he humped James's mouth. He had never felt anything so good, and ran his hands through James's messy blonde hair. He could feel his own peak rising... he tried to warn James in time but all that would come out was a grunt. He looked down, trying to warn James with eye contact to pull off, but seeing his idol looking up at him, sucking him off with such lust in his eyes pushed Jamie over the edge.
Spurt after teenaged spurt entered James's mouth. He had not thought about this bit of the procedure and unsure what to do next, swallowed as quickly as he could to make room for the next wave. He stayed there, sucking on Jamie until he'd gotten his breath back and Jamie's softness fell out of his mouth. Shakily, James got to his feet, feeling the damp stickiness in his boxers for the first time. As he stood, he pulled up Jamie's boxers, over the stubble burn on his thighs, while at the same time grabbing some napkins at the bar to mop himself up. He lowered his shorts and for the first time Jamie saw the cock of his teenage lust-object. He was about to go into kiss James again, James was lifting his chin to meet his lips when there was a shout from the lit doorway.
A deep, throaty voice shouted, "What the FUCK is going on?" Jamie looked over James's shoulder to see a 6ft 3 silhouette in the doorway. Knowing the voice of his band member anywhere, James decided it was time to face the music. With a sigh, he turned right round, with his trousers down.
TO BE CONTINUED?
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