Forgotten Desires

Chapter 2

It was the light piercing through the blinds that woke him up. Les slowly opened his eyes, briefly expecting to find himself at home, and considered berating Camille for not having pulled the curtains.

Then it hit him. He was not at home, and the person next to him was not Camille. He was at a shabby motel room somewhere in the city, and Ray Simms was – still comfortably sleeping, by the sound of it – lying pressed to his side. Naked. As naked as Les himself.

Holy fucking shit. He’d slept with Ray. The memories of last night’s escapades washed over him like a tidal wave. The bar, Ray in drag – hotter than ever, the motel… and the bed. This bed. It was no dream. It had really happened.

The following few seconds Les spent in complete silence, trying to figure out the best way to get himself out of this mess. Denial sounded like the best option, and the longer the stayed, the harder it would become.

Nudging Ray awake and simultaneously pulling his arm back, he sat up and started looking about for his clothes. They were probably scattered all over the place. Fucking great.

Ray yawned audibly when he was awakened and stretched his long, lean limbs like a cat. His hair and face were a mess, as he had not washed off his make-up before going to sleep.

“Good morning, my tiger…” he purred contentedly and reached out to stroke Les’ back. “Why get up now, we have plenty of time still…”

Les pinched his eyes shut and held back a sigh. Ray obviously didn’t consider last night’s romp a mistake at all.

“Look, Ray…” he murmured, fervently thinking of a good excuse to make it as short as possible and bolt through the door. “I gotta go…”

“Go?” Ray sounded both surprised and disappointed. “Why? I mean… why now?”

“Listen…” the bassist continued, still not looking at the other man. “What happened… it was a mistake. A drunken mistake. I…” It suddenly all sounded very lame. Pulling his hand over his face to cover the awkwardness, Les stood up and started getting back into his clothes. He’d eagerly shoved his prick down Ray’s throat last night, but now he didn’t want the singer to see him naked longer than was necessary.

Ray’s happy expression was blurted out as once. “A…a… mistake? Les… What do you…? Wasn’t it good? Wasn’t I good?”

“Sure, it was okay… But I have to go…”

Having gotten his shoes on finally, Les headed straight for the door. A part of him felt guilty for his current actions, but he couldn’t allow himself to become sentimental about Ray. The man was a slut; a whore who lay with anyone without any thoughts about tomorrow. Les was just the last in a long line of lovers. Nothing to feel guilty about, really. Or so he told himself.

“Les, wait!” Ray bounced out of bed and caught up with Les a few feet from the door. “You can’t just… leave!” he exclaimed, grabbing the other man’s leather-clad arm. “Les… Can you look at me, at least?”

Reluctantly Les allowed his eyes to meet Ray’s.

Now Ray’s voice as well as lips were trembling. “Was it my fault? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but…-”

“Listen…” Ray’s fingers dug into his bicep, and the man’s voice was getting more and more desperate. “Whatever it is, I can change. I promise. Don’t just leave, Les. I’ve wanted this to happen for ages. Half my life, I’ve been waiting for you. You, Les… Just you. I think… I love you.”

Whatever he’d expected – anger, rage, frustration – this was not it. The words spoken by Ray made Les feel like he was sinking into quicksand. If he didn’t get out of here at once, he would suffocate.

“Get away from me, freak!” he hissed and tore his arm free from Ray’s hold. “What happened was a one-time thing and nothing more! Get over it!”

“You bastard! You cruel fucking bastard!” the singer cried out and started hitting Les’ chest with his palms. “How can you do this to me, you pig?! You think you can just fuck me and throw me away like fucking garbage?! I hate you, Les! I HATE YOU!”

Les grabbed Ray’s flying arms and pushed the struggling, naked man against the bed with a raged growl. He was stronger and heavier than Ray and pinned the blond man beneath him without much effort. Their eyes met properly for the first time that morning, and Ray’s were filled with hurt.

Les briefly felt the impulse to backhand Ray across the face – anything to wipe out that look in his eyes – but managed to control himself.

“You disgust me!” he spat spitefully in the singer’s face. “Everything about you disgusts me!”

Then he released Ray and dashed out of the motel room faster than a greased lightning. He imagined hearing Ray’s sobs all the way out to the corridor but blocked them out. If only he could block out the memories of his actions, too.

What now? He was quite far from home, judging from the look of it. Since he’d come here by cab, it made sense calling a cab to drive him back home. Camille must be worried sick… or maybe she thought he’d dozed off from the booze and ended up spending the night in a street corner not far from the pub. It had happened once before, and he had sworn on his mother’s grave never to let it happen again.

Les walked with long strides toward the nearest payphone, fleeing from Ray, the motel room, and the memories as though they threatened to catch up with him and swallow him alive. The sound of Ray’s sad, broken-hearted sobs still echoed in Les’ mind. What would Ray do now? Where would he go?

The more Les thought about the situation, the more evident it got that this would not end well. He’d hurt Ray – worse than he wanted to admit to himself. The singer had a history of depressions and substance abuse. He’d also tried to commit suicide more than once. That was all in the past, but that didn’t mean his problems were over. Ray was a sensitive person who easily got emotionally unstable. If something serious enough happened…

He didn’t want to think about it, but the thought left him no rest. What if Ray – hurt, angry, betrayed and heartbroken – decided to do something foolish? If that happened, Les would never be able to forgive himself. One could as well call it a murder.

Only thirty feet from the payphone he was headed to, Les Wickes spun on his heel and started hurrying back to the motel. With adrenaline pumping through his limbs and lungs gasping for air, the bassist flung himself into the lobby and whistled past the surprised clerk who’d seen him leave only minutes later.

The door to their room was still open, of course – Ray was hardly in a condition to leave. Les found him huddled up in a corner, knees to his chest and arms around himself, crying. The first few seconds passed and he didn’t even notice the other man’s re-entry. Then Ray’s whole body jerked, and he stared right at Les with large, red, swollen eyes.

Les tried to think of a decent way to apologize, but words seemed suddenly so trivial. This was a situation that required actions.

Kneeling next to Ray, he carefully enveloped the other man’s trembling, naked frame in his arms and held Ray close to himself. The singer’s sobs turned to spasmodic gasps for breath, and he clung to Les with surprising strength.

“I’m so sorry, Ray…” Les murmured while stroking Ray’s tangled, long hair. “Can you ever forgive me? I was such an asshole to you earlier… There is no excuse, there really isn’t… I just hope you won’t hate me forever now?”

Ray lifted his head from Les’ shoulder and met his band mate’s gaze. Tears were still streaming down his haggard cheeks, and suddenly Les’ broad palm cupped his face and tried to wipe the tears away.

“Why did you come back…?” Ray asked as soon as he’d regained the composure to speak.

“My actions earlier were unforgivable, and I realized that,” Les replied gravely. “I couldn’t leave you here, after what I’d done and said. I had to make sure you were alright.”

Ray sniffled and lowered his eyes again. “You mean you came back to make sure I hadn’t killed myself?”

Les had never felt more ashamed in his entirely life. “First and foremost I came to apologize. Will you forgive me, Ray?”

“Yes, Les. I forgive you. How could I not? You came back…”

Ray slowly removed Les’ hand from his cheek and entwined their fingers. He wondered if Les remembered what he’d told him just before he had his temper tantrum, and if the bassist had believed him. Because it was true. He was really in love with Les.

“We should get you off the floor. You must be cold.” Les gestured at the other’s nudity and offered to help Ray stand, but the blond man withdrew. He wasn’t sure he was stable enough to stand up yet. Only minutes ago it had felt like he would fall over and pass out.

“Come on, you cannot stay in that corner for the rest of your life,” Les said a tad impatiently. When Ray still didn’t respond, he simply scooped his lover from last night into his arms and carried him to the still-messy bed. There he gently lowered Ray down and covered his body with their shared blanket.

“Your hands are as cold as ice,” Les stated when Ray’s digits gripped his forearm. “Stay here until you’ve warmed up.”

“You won’t leave me, Les, will you?” Some of the despair from before had crept back into Ray’s voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Les assured him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he proceeded by brushing back some hair from Ray’s forehead. The blond strands were sticky with old hairspray, and Ray would need a shower before he’d look presentable again. Then it suddenly occurred to him – Ray had come here wearing a skimpy red dress, stilettos, a wonder bra, and nothing more. All he had besides that was a small purse, and this meant no extra clothing. So either Ray would have to walk out of here as a woman or in his birthday suit.

“You don’t have anything to wear besides the dress, have you?” Les asked just to confirm an already obvious fact.

The singer’s face twisted into a grimace once more, and new shiny tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Good Lord, Les… you’re right. I… I have nothing else to wear… What am I supposed to do? I can never pass for a woman, not in this state. God, I look a mess…”

“We’ll fix that, somehow,” Les said comfortingly, rubbing Ray between the shoulder blades. “What you need right now is a shower… or a nice, long, hot bath. Does that sound like something?”

Ray nodded. Really, it did. A warm bath could make him relax and rid his body of the tension. “Yeah, that would be good…” he sighed, still unwilling to let go of Les’ arm. He was afraid that if he as much as loosened his grip for a second, Les would be gone.

“A bath it is, then. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The bathroom was small and simple, but at least there was a bathtub which even looked reasonably clean. Les started running water into the bath; hot but not scalding. While Ray was in the tub, maybe he could somehow try to solve the clothing issue. Ray couldn’t go out, but he could, and there were clothes stores pretty much around every corner. Finding something in the singer’s usual flamboyant style would be difficult, but he could always get a pair of jeans and a sweater. Anything that could help Ray make it home without being laughed at would do.

Once the tub was full, he went back to get Ray. “Your bath is ready. And you aren’t gonna make me carry you there now, are you?”

The latter even drew a faint smile from Ray’s lips. “I think I am steady enough to walk now,” he said and clumsily swung his legs over the edge. Les offered him a hand, and he gratefully took it. Not so much because he needed the aid, but anything that would allow him direct contact with Les was a treat.

They didn’t break the physical contact even when it was time for Ray to step into the tub.

“We don’t want you to slip and hit your head now, do we?” Les asked, refusing to let go.

“Oh, stop mothering me…” Ray playfully chided. “I’m even older than you, man.”

“Not more than four years. And you’ve never matured mentally.”

“Nonsense, I simply didn’t allow myself to become a bore like some other people…”

It was a gibe at him, and Les got the message. He murmured something unintelligible and watched Ray get immersed in the hot water. A sigh of pure pleasure left the singer’s thin lips when he leaned back in the tub and closed his eyes. What he really wanted was to ask Les to join him, but that was perhaps not a good idea right now.

“Have you thought about what to wear when you walk out of here?” Les asked.

Ray shook his head and then shrugged. “The dress, I suppose. I don’t have anything else. If I’m somewhat lucky, people won’t recognize me…”

“I could go get you something more appropriate. At least so you can get home safely.”

Ray immediately opened his eyes. “You’d do that?” he asked, sounding both surprised and hopeful.

“But of course,” Les smiled wryly. “It’s what friends are for, is it not? And besides I wouldn’t want you to make a public fool outta yourself. It’s bad for the band.”

Ray laughed for the first time that morning. “Anything to avoid negative publicity?”

“Expect nothing fancy…” Les warned jokingly and stood up. “I’ll be back in about half an hour, I guess…”

“Les?”

“Yeah, man?”

“You’ll be back, won’t you?” Now Ray’s voice sounded lost and insecure again.

“I swear on the graves of all my dead ancestors,” the bassist replied solemnly. “You just relax, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

This seemed to calm Ray down, and he gave Les a part embarrassed, part apologetic smile. “I’m sorry… still worked up, I guess…”

“It’s alright, no need to be,” Les assured him. “Just enjoy your bath till I get back.”

*~*~*

There was a Primark store located not far from the motel, and Les decided to try his luck there. Since it was a Saturday morning, the store was more crowded than usual. Les kept his eyes low, hoping that no one would recognize him, and steered toward the men’s ward.

Let’s see… Ray needed new pants, a shirt, underwear… and shoes, since all he had were the stilettos. Les didn’t know his exact clothes size, but since the singer was both shorter and slimmer than he, a size or two below his own should fit pretty well.

He collected a pair of blue jeans, a short-sleeved, white shirt, a pair of cotton briefs and finally a pair of trainers into his basket before heading toward the checkouts. The queue was long and hardly even seemed to inch forward. Les’ impatience grew by each passing minute. This had already taken more than half an hour, and he was worried that Ray might believe he had bailed on him.

After more than fifteen minutes of waiting, Les started to get frustrated. There were still more than ten people ahead of him in the queue, and he was getting sweaty in his leather jacket. No one seemed to recognize him, which was good, but the situation was nonetheless taxing.

When it finally became his turn to pay, he morosely lifted the basket with the stuff onto the desk in front of the cashier. The girl gave him a sunny smile – probably rehearsed – and started going through the articles.

“Was that all, sir?”

“Yeah…” Les grunted and started digging after his wallet. She told him the prize, but he hardly registered the words and pressed a 50-pound bill into her hand. He tried to avoid the young woman’s gaze and act like any other customer, although Fate seemed to be working against him today.

“Wait…” She suddenly sounded amazed. “I’ve seen you… on TV. You’re in that band, aren’t you? What’s it called, again? Strange Fruit?”

The bassist silently groaned. Could this get any worse? “No, I’m no one special. I just look like that guy…”

But the girl wasn’t fooled that easily. “Oh, no, you don’t! I’d recognize you anywhere! You’re Les Wickes!”

//Oh, yeah, great… Yell it out for everyone in the store to hear…//

“Alright, you got me…” Les sighed. “But I’m really in a hurry, and…”

“I’m Susan Morris,” the woman introduced herself. “My mum’s mad about you. She’s got all your albums, and she says she’s even seen you live back in the 70s. Although that was before my time!” She laughed merrily. “Could I please have your autograph? Mum wouldn’t believe it.”

Les was tempted to simply ignore her request and bolt out of the store without even having received his change, but he also realized it would be all but gracious. This young woman genuinely admired him, and she was also trying her best to be friendly. Signing that autograph wouldn’t take more than a minute, and what difference did another few seconds make?

“Oh, sure… No problem, I guess…”

The woman smiled practically from ear to ear and dug up a wrinkled notebook from her trouser pocket.

“Susan, right?” he asked.

“Yes. And could you please include mum, too? It’s Diane. She’ll be delighted.”

Les quickly scribbled down the words “Greetings to Susan and Diane, Best Wishes, Les Wickes” and stuck the notebook back to the woman.

“Thank you… Thank you so much, Mr. Wickes. I’ll remember this always.”

“My pleasure… Always nice to have fans.” Les even returned her smile before quickly collecting his bag and stuffed the change back into his wallet. He could feel beads of sweat running down his back behind the leather, and his throat was suddenly like sandpaper.

The Primark store was only a five-minute-walk away from the motel, but Les made it back in three minutes. He was concerned about Ray, despite the fact that he had vowed to return and hoped that Ray trusted him.

As soon as he’d stepped into their motel room, Les heard splashing sounds from the bathroom. The bathroom door was wide open, as he’d left it, and Les went to see what was going on.

Ray was standing up in the tub, busy soaping himself. He didn’t notice the other man’s entry until Les cleared his throat; a sound which made Ray start.

“Oh, God, Les…” he gasped. “You kinda scared me there…”

“My apologies. I got you some stuff… The bag’s in there…”

Ray gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Les. You’re an angel.”

The bassist felt a slight blush creeping over his face. It was certainly not every day someone called him an angel! “No problem, man… I’m sorry I’m so late, by the way. There was a queue, and… Anyway, I hope you didn’t think I’d run off.”

Ray shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t. I trust you, Les.”

Les’ eyes passed over the other man’s naked body as he showered and washed the soapsuds away. Ray was completely smooth, from armpits to chest to groin… Not a hair was left on him. Not that he’d ever been particularly hairy, but Les had never seen him this fuzz-free before.

“Do you always stay like that?”

“What?”

“Like that. Shaved.”

“Oh… No, I don’t,” Ray informed him. “Only when I…”

“When you’re in drag?”

“Well, yes… Do you like it, Les?”

Les was beginning to regret asking. Watching Ray stark naked in the shower was turning him on again. Besides he felt like a voyeur. Not that Ray seemed to mind, though. In fact, he appeared to like being watched.

“I guess it’s… nice…” the bassist finally said. “I’ve never thought much about that.”

As a display, Ray reached down to cup his clean-shaven genitals, kneading the soft member and hairless scrotum. “I like the feeling myself. It’s… smooth.”

“Ray…”

“Could you please hand me that towel? I’m stepping out now.”

“Sure…” Les was grateful for the distraction. He offered Ray one of the motel’s towels and watched his band mate dry himself. Small, clear droplets of water sprayed in all directions when Ray bent forward to run the towel through his hair. Once he was finished, the singer wrapped the large, white towel around his shoulders and approached Les.

Just doing what felt natural, Les put his arm around Ray’s back and began to lead him back into the motel room. The two men sat down on the bed, only centimetres from each other, and spent the first moments in silence.

Les’ hands lay relaxed on his lap until Ray suddenly reached over, taking the other man’s hand into his. He’d already figured that to make this relationship progress, *he* would have to take the initiative.

Les did not withdraw from the contact, but he wasn’t sure how to return the affectionate gesture. He had never been good at dealing with emotions, and this was a situation more extreme than he was used to.

Turning his head, he found out that Ray was watching him, and their eyes met. The physical contact between them remained as well, and it didn’t seem as though Ray wanted to let go anytime soon.

“Are you feeling better now?” Les asked to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Yeah, I suppose so…” the singer replied in his usual drawly voice. “That bath helped me clear my thoughts…”

Now that Ray’s hair and face were clean with no traces of make-up, Les had to admit that he looked somewhat washed out. The signs of advancing age were there; lines in his cheeks, small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, drooping brows… A man barely past fifty, to be sure, but the years had not been kind to Ray. The singer was also starting to grow a stubble; there was no way he could be mistaken for a woman now.

“And…?” Les asked when no further explanation came.

“I do know now…”

“What is it you know, Ray?”

“That my feelings… that they’re true.”

It was now or never, and Ray knew it. Cupping Les’ face in his hands, he leaned out to kiss the other man. It started out chastely but quickly progressed into something much more passionate and intimate. Les’ mouth slowly yielded to the intrusion and allowed Ray’s tongue access.

“Ray…” Les suddenly withdrew from the kiss and also removed the hands from his cheeks. “I… I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Les, please…” Ray murmured, eyes riveted to the bassist’s. “I want you to make love to me…”

“Ray…” Les reached out to place his hands on Ray’s shoulders when it suddenly occurred to him how close to one another they were. Thighs pressed together, flanks practically touching… And Ray still wasn’t wearing anything except a towel loosely wrapped around his shoulders. The situation made Les aroused against his will. Ray’s closeness and state of undress… the pleading, vulnerable look in his eyes… These were all things that got Les rock-hard and flushed in only a matter of seconds.

It had been different last night; one could blame what happened then on the booze, but now Les was as sober as he could get. His reaction to Ray was still the same, though. The mere thought of lying with the singer again dazed his brain with lust.

“I know you want to…” The statement was followed by a slender hand squeezing Les’ groin through his pants. His erection was obvious already, even on the outside. There was no fooling anyone: not himself and not Ray.

“Oh, God, Ray… Yes…” Les groaned, pulling Ray’s frame into his embrace, and kissed him almost savagely. Meanwhile his hands were groping the other all over; rubbing, squeezing, kneading… It felt as though he just wanted to devour Ray.

“Les, wait…!” Ray called out between the feverish kisses. The bassist tensed at once and looked at him questioningly. “A little slower… I don’t want to fuck now, Les. Last night we fucked. Now I’d like to make love. Can you do that? Can you make love to me…?”

“So you want me to be gentle…?” Les whispered hotly, nuzzling Ray’s long neck and breathing against the still-damp skin. His right hand combed through the newly-washed hair, cupping Ray’s head, and the left was fondling the blond man’s front side.

“Yes… I’d like that… very much.”

“Then I will…”

Ray stole one last kiss before withdrawing far enough to look Les in the eye. “Get undressed,” he requested. “I want to feel your skin against mine…”

Les immediately complied. His clothes had become too tight and too warm, and it would be a relief to get naked again. Dumping his shoes, jacket, trousers, shirt, and underwear in a heap beside the bed, he instantly joined Ray, now naked as well. They fell down onto the mattress, limbs entwined and mouths hungrily seeking each other. Ray parted his legs, allowing his lover to settle between them, and felt intense waves of pleasure surging through his body when their stiff members were rubbed together. The mere thought of having Les inside him again was almost enough to make him come.

Les recalled Ray’s words: “I don’t want to fuck now, I’d like to make love…” To really make this experience memorable to Ray, he’d have to get to know the other’s body and focus on other parts instead of just the penetration. Supporting his weight on his arms, Les raised himself slightly.

“How do you like to be touched?” he asked, slightly ashamed that he did not know this already.

“Touch me… with your hands. And I love having my nipples played with.”

“Alright…”

Les lowered his face to Ray’s chest and took one perky, pink nub between his lips. Ray’s nipples were nothing like Camille’s large, brown ones which he’d gotten used to. These were small, pointy… and of course they were not surrounded by thick layers of fat.

The singer’s pants and groans, however, revealed that he found the treatment clearly pleasurable. While licking and sucking on one, Les used his fingers to pinch the other bud. Ray writhed on the bed, thrusting upward against Les’ solid body to create stimulation in other areas. Once the nipples were wet and peaked, the bassist moved his hand down to Ray’s groin. Finding a penis as hard has his own, Les gave it a firm squeeze, which drew a wanton groan out of Ray. He’d paid little or no attention to Ray’s genitals last night, and now was the time to remedy that. What a selfish lover he had been! It was a wonder that Ray was even speaking to him in the first place, let alone wanting to be intimate.

Ray’s hands travelled up along Les’ broad shoulders, caressing and exploring. They kissed again, and Les squeezed Ray’s organ harder, which almost caused the singer to spill in his lover’s hand.

“Les… not yet,” he whispered huskily and guided the hand away from his loins.

“Sorry…” Les murmured in reply. He nipped at Ray’s bottom lip, making the other man snicker like a schoolgirl.

“Get inside me,” Ray said, suddenly serious. “Please…”

“Gladly…” Les rose to retrieve the bottle of lubricant, which was luckily still on the bedside table. He spent some time thoroughly preparing himself and his lover, because Ray’s comfort and pleasure were his top priority this time.

“Which position did you, umm, prefer?” he finally asked, holding his slick, engorged manhood ready in his hand.

Ray smiled at the sudden gentleman Les had become. It was such a change from last night. “Just lie on top of me… that’ll be fine,” he assured, arms and legs spread to welcome Les between them. “Oh, and I’m not made of porcelain,” he added teasingly when he noticed how careful his lover was so as not to crush him.

The entry was slow and gentle, as well. They both groaned at the blissful contact now established between them.

“Oh, Les…” Ray sighed, completely immersed in ecstasy. The gentle thrusts, seemingly aimed at exactly the right spot, were making him feel like a god. Why couldn’t moments like these last forever? “I love you…” he panted as their bodies moved together in a steady, joint rhythm. “Oh God, Les, I love you so much…”

Ray could not interpret Les’ reaction to his little confession, but his body movements revealed nothing. They both soon reached critical heights and came almost simultaneously; Ray’s climax triggered Les’, who spent himself inside the hot, welcoming body lying beneath his in submission.

Groaning, Les pulled out and rolled onto his back, gasping for breath. Almost immediately, Ray pressed up against him and placed his head on the bassist’s heaving chest.

“Do you mind?” he asked quietly.

“No…” To really prove that he didn’t, Les put his arm around Ray’s back and drew him even closer. The two lay in complete silence for a while, listening only to each other’s heartbeats and heavy breaths.

Millions of thoughts seemed to course through Les’ head – Camille, his kids, the band… and of course, Ray. Ray was his lover now. There was no questioning that. He was cheating on his wife with a band mate he’d never even gotten along with. How fucked up things could get.

“Are you okay?” Les suddenly asked just to break the silence. If he didn’t, the thoughts would drown him.

“Yeah… not been this good in years…”

“That’s quite a compliment, man…” Les said with a chuckle.

“It’s the truth.” Ray was running his fingers through the sparse but thick hairs on Les’ chest. He’d wanted to do that ever since he saw Les shirtless. The inevitable question hung between them. “So… what will happen now?”

“I don’t know… we’ll go back to our own people, I suppose…”

Les mentioned nothing about any potential future for Ray in his life. Ray had expected it, but the knowledge was painful, nonetheless. “Yeah, I should call Astrid… She must be worried…”

“And what does Astrid have to say about all of this?” Les inquired. “That you’re seeing men behind her back?”

“I’m not doing anything behind her back,” Ray explained calmly. “She knows I need a cock in my arse every once in a while, and she’s okay with it. I couldn’t keep such a thing hidden from her, anyway. So Astrid lets me have my little fun. She’s cool like that. I guess she knows she has nothing to fear… I always return to her.”

At first Les was surprised at Astrid’s “accepting nature” but then he concluded that it really made sense. The Nordic woman had a very liberal attitude to life in general, despite her occasional temper tantrums, and it was not impossible to imagine that she could share her bisexual husband with other men.

“And…” Ray let out a small giggle. “…in fact, it turns her on. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t mind it.”

“Oh, damn…” Les was convinced that he’d never be able to see Astrid the same way again. If only his wife was as easy and open-minded as Ray’s! But he was convinced that Camille would never agree to “share” him with anybody, male or female.

“So… Does Astrid know you went to pick me up last night?”

Ray’s answer was slightly hesitant. “N-no, not specifically you… I only told her I was going out to find myself a shag. She helped me get ready… hair, nails… all that stuff.”

Oh, so his suspicions were true: someone had indeed helped Ray with his outfit. And this someone was Ray’s own wife.

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I… I don’t know…” was Ray’s honest reply. He wasn’t sure about Astrid’s reaction if he told her he’d spent the night with Les Wickes. Until now, his male lovers had all been strangers to her; formless lumps with no features or personality. Les was different. He was someone Astrid knew, and even liked.

“And what you said earlier, just before I left…? Was that true, as well?” Les felt forced to ask. He remembered Ray’s words and the emotion behind them all too well. It was only fair that he gave the singer a chance to explain himself properly.

“I think you already know the answer to that…” Ray murmured and felt his face heat up. Luckily he didn’t have to look Les in the eye. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

“Ray…” Les’ voice sounded like a plea. “You… for how long? I mean…”

“I’ve fancied you ever since I joined the band. I wanted to tell you, I wanted it so bad, but… but you never even liked me, and besides I didn’t think you batted for both teams, so… Finally it just became easier to loathe you… or pretend that I did.”

“Oh, god, Ray…” the bassist sighed. His new lover had just made quite a confession. “I never knew,” he said truthfully. “All this time… I never knew.”

“I… I was afraid to tell you,” Ray admitted. “I was afraid you’d hate me… even more.”

“Ray, I’ve never hated you…”

“Whatever you say… We didn’t get on, and I guess much of it was my fault. It was frustrating, being to close to you, and yet never… I guess that made me quite a bitch.”

“I was… annoyed with you at times,” Les admitted grudgingly. “Your style was always too flamboyant for my taste, and I thought…” He didn’t know how to explain what he actually had felt. When Ray went on stage, sometimes wearing minimal clothes and thick make-up, Les had felt annoyance… or at least that’s what he thought it was. Now that he thought back, maybe distraction was a better word. “I guess I found you nice to look at… a bit *too* nice, if you get my point…”

“I always thought it was about Keith…”

“That too… But I’ve forgiven you for that. After all, you have a great set of pipes, and the audience loves you.”

They both laughed for a moment. “I wish we’d had this chat twenty-five years ago, Les…” Ray then said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I’m glad we had it now.”

“Yeah, me too…”

“Can I ask you something, Ray?”

“Yeah, sure…”

Les did his best to frame the question as eloquently as possible. “Why did you come to that pub last night?”

“It’s your local, so I figured you’d be there,” Ray replied.

“Yes, but… I mean, why?”

Ray giggled again. “I don’t know… temporary insanity, maybe? Who knows? I just did, and I sure don’t regret it now. I got to have you, Les… if only for one night.”

The conversation was making Les feel uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject. “Aren’t you afraid someone will recognize you when you go out in drag?”

“Not really… It’s happened once or twice, maybe, but I’ve never even made the tabloids. There are so many bigger stars to gossip about. No one really cares what I do.”

“Not even if you’re seen walking downtown without underwear?”

Ray snorted. “Women’s underwear are uncomfortable, anyway. I prefer going without.”

“Just make sure you’re not seen bending over too far… at least if you’re wearing a short dress like last night.”

“Thanks for the tip, Les. I’ll keep that in mind.”

A while passed in silence again, and the two men remained locked in an embrace with their thoughts elsewhere. Les focused on what to tell Camille, the future of the band, and how to deal with Ray’s infatuation. One could not simply shrug it off, especially after what they’d gone through just now. Ray… Les did perhaps not reciprocate the singer’s feelings, but he definitely felt something.

“Ray… maybe we should get dressed…”

“Hmmm…” Ray agreed half-heartedly, clearly unwilling to break the physical contact. Les gave him a light nudge and drew himself into a sitting position. Ray reluctantly followed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the bassist asked sympathetically, placing his palm against Ray’s cheek. The blond man nodded with a slightly sad smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Now show me the clothes you bought me?”

“My pleasure.” Les quickly pulled his own clothes back on and went to retrieve the Primark bag. “Knock yourself out,” he said wryly and handed it to Ray.

“I can say one thing for you, Les…” Ray murmured while examining the clothing articles purchased for him. “You ain’t much of a dresser…”

“Well, if you’d rather wear the red dress, go ahead,” the bassist retorted. “I was in a rush, go figure…”

Ray smiled gratefully. “I know, Les. It was very sweet of you to help me in the first place. Thank you.”

“Whatever… Now put them on so I can see if they fit?”

“Alright…” The clothes felt strange on him; saggy and sort of ridiculous. Maybe it was because he was used to skin-tight outfits, not large, baggy T-shirts and denims. And the sneakers… Man, could he still wear flat-heeled shoes at all? When facing Les in his new, uncharacteristic outfit, he was suddenly surprised that there was still an obvious height difference between them. Normally his platform shoes eliminated that.

“Well?” Les inquired, grinning.

“I’ll survive… hopefully.” Ray stuffed his red dress, fake breasts, shoes, and purse into the roomy Primark bag and followed Les out through the door. This was it… He didn’t want it to end this way, but what choice was there? In case he played his cards well, he might still keep Les as a friend… which was better than nothing, supposedly.

Les felt extremely self-conscious when he went to return the room key to the receptionist. It was the same bloke from last night and surely remembered both him and his “date”… only Ray looked very different now. But the man was nothing but courteous, and if he suspected anything, he didn’t show it.

The two men walked out on the pavement together, and it was obvious to both that their ways would part here.

“Will you make it home safely now, Ray?” Les asked. For all he knew, the singer could still be emotionally unstable.

“Yeah… don’t worry about me. Les…” Ray bit his lip. “I would like to see you again…”

“I’d like to see you again, too.”

“I mean… like last night.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant.”

Ray’s breath hitched in his throat. “R-really…?”

“I’d be lying if I said no,” Les admitted. “You really amazed me, Ray. In so many ways. I’m still attracted to you.”

Ray couldn’t quite believe it was true. Les wanted to continue their affair? He almost wanted to pinch himself as to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

“So… I’ll call you?” the singer asked, voice small and unsteady.

“No,” Les replied. “I’ll call you. And Ray…” He leaned close to the other man so that their cheeks were almost touching. “…next time, wear something leather.”