Disclaimer: I have an overactive imagination, the result of which is this story. I do not know Clay Aiken or any other celebrities mentioned in this story, and I do not intend to imply anything about their true sexualities. Simply file this in the "Wouldn't it be nice...?" portion of your mind. Also, if you are under legal age to be reading this sort of stuff (18 in most areas), then leave now. All the rest of you who ARE of age, please enjoy my little mind trip away from the land of reality.
CHAPTER 14
"WHAT?!" I couldn't believe what Carmen had just told me. As soon as she had said Clay was hurt, a million questions came to mind. How badly? Is he going to be ok? What about the tour? And, as usual, I began to get paranoid. I began to imagine Clay lying in some hospital bed, unconscious, with all sorts of tubes and machines. I think Carmen could sense the panic in my face.
"Relax, Randy, it's not that bad," she said. "He hurt his ankle, they think. He misjudged a step on stage or something."
Whew!
"So he's going to be alright?" I asked, letting out a sigh of relief.
"I would imagine so," said Carmen. Chuckling, she said, "It's kinda funny when you think about it. He's sort of a klutz."
I couldn't help but giggle along, though I was still worried. Luckily, the hospital wasn't too far from the airport, and nighttime traffic was virtually nonexistent. When we got there, we jumped out of the cab, paid the driver, and ran inside. We entered the emergency room and found Clay, along with Kim and a couple of men I didn't recognize (but assumed to be tour management type people), in one of those curtain "rooms," with his foot all wrapped up (and quite swollen).
"Clay, are you OK?" I asked with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, seeming a little embarrassed. "It hurts, but that's to be expected I guess."
"What happened?"
"We were doing one of our group numbers, and I had to run from one side of the stage to another. I guess I forgot there was a step down to the wing of the stage, and I came down on my ankle the wrong way."
"I saw it from the other side of the stage," said Kim. "One second he was up and singing, the next he was...well, to be honest, he was on the ground and screaming!" She laughed, and so did Clay.
"I'm such a klutz," he said, embarrassed.
"Aww, that's ok," I told him as I squeezed his shoulder. Then I leaned down in his ear and whispered, "Besides, you're my klutz."
Clay smiled. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me, too."
"Me three!" said Kim and Carmen at the same time, and everyone laughed.
"Maybe now he'll calm down!" Carmen said. "He's been practically jumping up and down with excitement ever since we arranged for you to come!"
"Well," said a voice from behind us. We looked up to see a doctor standing in the doorway. "I don't think he'll be doing much jumping for any reason anytime soon."
"Why? Is it broken?" Clay asked.
"No," said the doctor, "but it is sprained pretty badly. You'll have to be on crutches for the next week or so, which might make the rest of your tour...interesting, to say the least."
One of the tour people spoke up at this point. "We're already on that. We're looking into ways to accommodate you on stage," he told Clay.
"Good," said the doctor. "I'm going to prescribe you some fairly mild painkillers. Nothing that will knock you out, but enough to take away any discomfort you might feel."
"Thanks, doctor," Clay said. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem. I'll put this prescription through, and you'll be all set," the doctor said, walking out the door. He stopped for a second, then turned back to us. "If you don't mind, though..."
"Yes?" said Clay.
"My, uh, daughter is a HUGE fan of American Idol. I was...uh, I mean, SHE was very disappointed that the show tonight was sold out. Maybe an autograph would help ease my...HER...pain."
"Sure!" said Clay with a wink. "Kim can sign it, too!"
"That would be wonderful!" said the doctor, looking very excited (for his "daughter" of course).
"What should I write?" Clay asked. Kim leaned down and whispered in his ear. Clay wrote, and then they both signed the paper. The doctor read it out loud.
"To the best ER doctor in Tampa - Oops, I mean to his daughter. Love, Clay Aiken and Kimberley Locke." Everybody laughed, especially the doctor. "Well, I guess you figured me out! You guys are great. Take care of yourselves and have a great finish to your tour!"
We got Clay's prescription taken care of, and got him discharged. We all agreed it was a good thing the next day was a day off, because Clay's ankle could use the rest. When we made it back to the hotel, Kim and Carmen helped carry my luggage as I assisted Clay from the car to his...well, our...room. I still worried about him. I wasn't worried so much about the ankle - I knew that would heal with time. I worried more about the rest of Clay. He was HORRIBLE at using those crutches!
When we finally got settled into the room, Clay sat down in the chair and put his injured foot up on the bed. I walked over to him, straddled his leg, and sat in his half-lap. I kissed him deeply.
"I'm so sorry you got hurt, baby," I told him.
"It's OK," he said. "The more I think about it, the more I realize that this couldn't have happened at a better time."
"Really?" I asked. "Why's that?"
"Well, think about it - I have you here to wait on me hand and foot!" he said with a smile and a wink.
I immediately got up and walked across the room, pretending to be mad. "Excuse me! Are you saying I'm nothing but your manservant this week?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty lucky, aren't I?"
"Well, fine!" I said, crossing my arms. "If that's what you want, you're going to have to come over here and tell me to my face!"
"No fair!" Clay said, laughing. "You know I suck at using those crutches!"
"Too bad! You started it!" I was laughing now, too. Clay slowly got up, steadied himself on the crutches, and started to (very slowly) make his way over to me. As he did so, I backed up, opening the door to the hallway behind me.
"Now this is REALLY unfair!" Clay said. "You have to stay in one place!"
With a smirk, I retorted, "In all honesty, who's going to stop me?"
Clay continued chasing me. I kept backing up down the hallway. He got better and better with the crutches. By the time I got to the end of the hall, he was using them like a pro! When he caught up to me, he was out of breath.
"There," he panted. "You...are...my...manservant!"
"Well, that's fine and dandy and all," I said, "but really, now that you know how to use those crutches pretty well, you can probably do things pretty much on your own, huh?" As soon as I said it, I walked away laughing. Clay just stood there, agape.
"Why I oughta..." With that, he began to chase after me again. He caught up to me in the room, where he playfully shoved me onto the bed.
"Oh, no!" I cried. "You have captured me! What EVER are you going to do with me?"
"This!" said Clay as he gently climbed on top of me (making sure, of course, to be careful of his injured ankle) and began attacking my neck and face with kisses. He gradually got softer and slower with his kisses as he got closer to my mouth. When our lips met, all game-playing ended. Our mouths fastened onto each other perfectly, tongues rubbing against each other. I slowly and carefully rolled Clay over so that I was on top of him. We stayed like that for a long time, just making out and enjoying each other's company. We didn't go any further than that - it wasn't needed. Besides, it was quite late by that time, and we were both exhausted. We ended up falling asleep in each other's arms, still in our clothes.
We were woken up FAR too early the next morning by the phone ringing. Apparently, we had to leave early for Birmingham, the next stop on the tour.
True, there wasn't a concert that day, but since it was Ruben's hometown, it was going to be a plenty busy day!
I carried our stuff down to the hotel lobby (no small task!), where a few of the Idols had already gathered. They were signing autographs for a few fans. Carmen immediately came over to help me with the luggage, and then took me over to introduce (well, re-introduce) me to some of the others.
"Ruben, you remember Randy, right?" Carmen said.
"Oh, yeah. Whassup, man? How you doin'?" said Ruben, giving me a firm handshake.
"Good, how are you? I bet you're excited to be going to Birmingham!" I said.
"Yeah, dawg! I can't WAIT! Y'all are gonna be eatin' 205-style tonight!" he said to everyone.
I walked over to Julia. "Hey Julia! Remember me?"
She sort of squinted at me as if trying to recall. "Should I?"
"I'm Randy, Clay's..." I glanced around, and emphasized the last word. "...FRIEND."
"Oh. Right. Well, see ya."
Hmm, I thought. Nice to see you again, too. I shrugged and walked over to Trenyce.
"Hey, Randy!" she said as she saw me.
"Hey! How are you?"
"Exhausted! This tour is wearing me out! But it's SO much fun!" she said.
"I bet! When I saw you in Cleveland, you guys looked like you were having a blast on stage."
"We really do," she said. "And hey, I'm so glad you could come for part of tour!" She leaned in close and nudged me in the ribs a little bit. "Lord knows Clay was excited!"
I laughed. "Yeah, so excited he tripped and fell!"
Trenyce laughed and said, "How is he doing, anyway?"
"Great," I told her. "Now that he finally learned to use those damn crutches, he's doing just fine!"
"Good!" she said. "Well, looks like the bus is ready to go. And speaking of Clay..." she nodded in the general direction of the elevators. I turned and saw Clay coming toward me.
"The bus is ready," I told him. He led the way outside to where the bus was waiting. I watched and made sure he got on the bus OK. I went to get on the bus myself, but was shoved to the side.
"Whoa there!" I said, steadying myself.
I looked to see Julia getting on the bus. She turned and looked at me. Without a hint of remorse, she said "Must've been an accident."
Fighting the urge to call her some not-so-nice names, I got on the bus and went to find Clay. I found him with his leg propped up next to him on the couch (just like the private plane, this bus was no Greyhound!). He motioned for me to sit next to him. I sat down and wrapped my arms around him as he laid against me.
"Pretty sweet bus!" I told him.
"Yeah, it's nice," he said. "It gets a little cramped at times, but we're never on it for TOO long."
"That's good," I said.
"So you were talking with Trenyce? That's cool. Everyone is really glad you're here. They really like you."
"Well, not everyone," I said. I told him what had happened with Julia.
"She's probably just crabby today. We all have days like that," he said. I told him he's probably right, and we changed the topic. We didn't get up for the entire trip to Birmingham. True, Clay was good on crutches, but a moving bus makes even the people with the best balance a little unsteady.
Our day in Birmingham was, as expected, Ruben-centered. We saw the sights, met the people, all the usual stuff. During the "official" stuff, I was at the sidelines, of course, but for the most part, I was able to be with Clay the entire day. It was wonderful. The only bad things about the day were the snide glances and rude remarks Julia kept giving me all day. I knew that this week wouldn't be much fun if it kept up like this, so as we got back to the hotel, I pulled her aside.
"Do you have a problem with me being here?" I asked her point-blank.
"Problem? No," she said sarcastically. "In fact, I think it's great! We should do this for all our psycho fans!"
"Excuse me?"
"That's just what you are, isn't it?" she said. "Some overexcited fan who happened to be lucky enough to talk to Clay one day, so you decided to just kinda latch on and string him along, right? All so you can say you boffed an American Idol!"
"That is ENOUGH, Julia!" We looked over to see Clay standing next to us. I've never seen him this angry. Come to think of it, I'd never even seen him angry before! "You have NO right to say those things to Randy! It is MY business who I get involved with."
Julia just stood there, looking at her feet.
"And as for that stuff about being an overexcited fan..." he continued. "So be it! I, for one, think it's a good thing that my boyfriend is a fan!"
"You're right," Julia said. "I'm sorry. He must really mean a lot to you, if you're getting this upset."
"Julia, I love Randy. And if you can't respect that..."
"I can. And I will. I'm sorry, Clay." Julia turned to me. "And I'm sorry to you, too, Randy."
"It's ok," I told her. "Just don't call me `psycho' again, ok?" I told her, laughing.
She laughed. "Deal." We all went back to our rooms.
"Man," I said as Clay and I walked into our room. "When you want to be, you can be one scary dude!"
He laughed. "Well, that's what happens when you insult the people I love!" He kissed me quickly on the lips.
"Man, I am STUFFED!" Clay said. "Ruben wasn't kidding when he said we were going to eat 205-style!"
"Me too," I said. "But I hope you saved a little bit of room for dessert.
I already ordered it."
"You did? What did you order? And WHEN?"
I laughed. "I ordered it right as we checked in. As for the what, that's a surprise."
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and a cart was rolled into the room. I tipped the waiter, and took off the lid to reveal a huge plate full of strawberries, as well as a bowl of whipped cream.
"That looks delicious!" Clay said excitedly.
"Why don't you get ready for bed, and we'll have our late-night snack then," I told him. We changed our clothes and laid down. I took a strawberry, dipped it in the whipped cream, and fed it to him. Clay gave a small moan as he ate it, and then did the same for me. The second time I fed him a strawberry, I "accidentally" missed his mouth a little bit.
"Oops," I said after he ate the strawberry. "Looks like you still have a little bit of whipped cream on your cheek. Let me get that for you." I lightly licked at the corner of his mouth with my tongue, cleaning him up. This led to a deep kiss, after which Clay decided it was his turn. This time, however, he put a dab of whipped cream on my nose, which he promptly cleaned up. It was my turn again. I decided to push the envelope a bit. I dropped the strawberry, covered in whipped cream of course, in his lap.
"Gosh," I said innocently, "Guess you'll just have to take those off, huh?" I helped him out of his pajamas. "Now I feel overdressed," I said, so I took off my pajamas as well.
Once we were both naked, I took the whipped cream and spread a little bit on each nipple. I licked, sucked, and nibbled on each of Clay's erect nipples until they were both clean. Clay did the same thing to my bellybutton. Let me tell you, it took a little while to get every bit of whipped cream from there, but I loved every second of it! I then laid Clay back on the bed and smeared a big glob of whipped cream all over his chest, placing strawberries in various places. I slowly and methodically licked it all up, eating the strawberries as I went.
After I was done with that, it was Clay's turn to roll me over. I closed my eyes and prepared for the cool feeling of whipped cream on my chest. Instead, the cool feeling came over my half-hard dick, which immediately sprang to full attention. Clay licked my shaft from base to tip, getting every last bit of whipped cream.
"I don't think we need these anymore," Clay said, tossing the empty bowls aside.
I agreed. "You taste good enough without the whipped cream," I told him. We had a fantastic night of lovemaking after that. By the time we fell asleep, we were both quite worn out.
The rest of the week was pretty routine, at least for the Idols. I, however, was in a constant state of awe. I watched in amazement as they adjusted their performances from one venue to the next. They never seemed to run out of energy, at least on stage. On the bus, it was usually naptime.
By the end of the week, I was happy to say I could count each one of the Idols among my friends - even Julia, who kept her promise to be nice to me. Ironically, I had an easier time saying goodbye to Clay at the end of the week than I did with most of the rest of them. I was pretty much assured to see Kim and Carmen in the near future, and of course Clay, but the rest of them I didn't know about.
It was really nice of all of them to take me to the airport en masse. I said goodbye to each person individually, and made promises to keep in touch. When I got on the plane, I found my seat, sat down, and smiled. Wow, I thought. Wait till I tell my students how I spent MY summer vacation!
So ends another chapter of This is the Night! As always, thanks to Lee for being my editor, and thanks to everyone who has written in. Please continue to send comments/suggestions to musicteacher2002@hotmail.com
A quick note to all my readers - I try to update my story every 3 or 4 days.
The next chapter should be no problem to have out by then. However, I am moving this weekend, so after that updates may be a bit more infrequent. Rest assured I am NOT giving up this story, though. I am still having WAY too much fun with it to give it up! I just wanted to warn you of this possibility. Keep reading, and keep enjoying!