Remembering to Breathe

by BA Tortuga

The TV was playing, tuned to the channel Sebastian’s

show was going to be on. Right now there was some little

gal yodeling, but he had fifteen more minutes until the

live feed came through. His lover was doing a USO show

in Annapolis and Markus had flown up to watch it. In

Nashville. Where he had done an acoustic set for Country

Now TV.

He sighed, rolling his head on his neck. Him and

Sebastian had been working toward a new album, and they

both had too much work. He hadn’t seen Brazil in weeks.

Markus hadn’t seen Sebastian in weeks.

Hell, they were down to a few phone calls a week and

sharing Bev. He got her two days a week, Seb got her two

days.

So far, so good.

Didn’t keep him from pouring a fizzy water and settling

in front of the TV with a bag of microwave popcorn.

The announcer started ramping up the crowd and he

heard the familiar sound of Kyle’s fiddle, clean and clear

and sweet over the microphones. He grinned when Bruce

came out, tickled at how seamless their band folks came

together.

Sebastian’s voice came on, floating over the air, then the

lights came up, highlighting a lean-lean man, a dark Stetson

shielding his face.

Markus’ body tightened. God, he missed Sebastian.

Seb was in a tiny white t-shirt, the tightest jeans in

history, one of Markus’ old rodeo buckles cradled in the

basket of his hips. He looked slinky, rocking back and forth

to the music. He also looked a little skinny. Marcus could

see collarbones peeking from the collar of his shirt.

His lips twisted. Come on, Seb. Look at the camera.

Sebastian glanced up when the hook really came in, and

Markus reached for his phone. He needed to talk to Bev.

“Markus. How are you?” Bev always picked up on the

first ring. It was insane how efficient she was.

“Seb looks tired. Skinny.” Might as well cut to the chase.

“You know how he gets. He hasn’t been asking me to get

him anything lately. I assumed he had a stash in his bags.”

“Damn it.” He did know how Sebastian got when he was

working. He forgot to eat, he obsessed about his weight...

“Do you want me to fly out to him? I’m not due to see

him until Austin in three days...”

“No. No, I’ll go.” He only had one more interview and

he could cancel that.

“You’re sure? I’m totally willing.”

“No, I got it. Can you get me a flight?”

“Absolutely. When do you want to be there?”

“As soon as I can.” Markus started packing his suitcase,

one eye on the TV.

His baby was too thin, and there was a hint of something

nervous in the way Seb danced. Something unnerving.

Damn it. Markus had left him alone too long.

Soon he was going to have that sweet body in his arms

and they were going to have a prayer meeting. Sebastian

needed to remember who he was with, and what was what.

And Markus was the man for the job.

***

Sebastian made it to his hotel room, crashing on the sofa

in the front room without even taking his hat or boots off.

His hands shook a little, and he contemplated having a

shake. Like a meal replacement one, not his hands.

That would take effort, so he’d do it later, after a nap.

A nap and a phone call to Markus.

Possibly a shower.

Those would all take effort, too. Except the nap. He

could sit right in the chair and do that.

Every inch of him was fucking exhausted, just totally

broke dick. He wanted to call his sister, suddenly, hear her

voice. She was so like Maman sometimes, and he missed

his mother like a sore tooth.

Sorrow hit him, square in the chest, and he curled up

around it, aching too deep to cry.

Sometimes it seemed like forever since she’d passed,

sometimes it seemed like a lot less than the year it had

been.

He reached for his phone, heart pounding, looking at the

time. Eleven p.m. Too late to call Sister. He dialed Markus

instead, listening to the phone ring and ring. He frowned.

Surely his singer was done with his interviews.

“Hey, this is Markus Kane. Leave a message.”

Damn. Voice mail.

“Hey, Candy. Just me. Just... Hope you’re having a good

night. Love you, man.”

I miss you.

Bad.

He thumbed the end button and tried to decide what to

do. Maybe nothing was the best thing. At least that way he

couldn’t damage himself.

He found the remote, turned the TV on for noise, then

just stayed still.

God, he was tired of being tired.

***

The flight landed a half an hour late due to weather, and

Markus cursed the delay when he got his voicemail from

Seb. The man sounded blown out. At least Markus didn’t

have to wait for bags, and the car was waiting to take him

to his lover. He ducked into the bathroom, did his thing,

then headed out, pulling down his gimme cap and making

sure his glasses were on.

He looked for the “Mr. Beverly” sign, nodding to the

driver when he saw it. Bev was good to him.

The driver smiled, but it was late enough, or early

enough, that there was no chit chat.

The zoomed through the city streets and he actually

dozed off, jerking awake when they arrived at the hotel.

He didn’t have any problem at the desk -- Bev had dealt

with everything, and the girl at the desk damn near fell over

herself to help.

He had a feeling she might know who he was. He hoped

she was good at her job. She led him to a private elevator,

offered him the room key and showed him how to get to the

penthouse, then offered to have the kitchen send up food.

“Yeah, that would be good.” He could go get Seb, bring

him to the big suite. They could have grilled cheese and

stuff.

“Yes, sir. Just call with a list and I’ll make sure it

happens.”

“Thank you, honey.” He tipped her well and headed to

his bathroom to wash up before he went to get Sebastian.

He wanted to be minty fresh.

Seb was on this floor, two doors down. Markus thought

he could imagine the sound of that acoustic guitar, right

now. He slid down the hall, keeping his head down,

knocking sharply.

There was a pause, then a growled. “Who the fuck is it?”

“Well, it’s not room service.”

“Candy?” The door flew open, Seb standing there, still

fully dressed, staring at him.

“Hey, baby. Want to come to my room?” He tried for a

smile, but it was tough. Sebastian looked frayed.

“What? Your room?” Seb blinked at him, in total owl-

mode. “You have a room here?”

“I do, now. Grab your room key.” He waited for Seb to

get his key card.

“Candy, were you supposed to be here? Did I miss

something? Aren’t you in Nashville?”

“Shh.” He drew Seb down the hall, already planning

what to feed the man.

He admitted to loving it when Seb just came, followed

him right into his suite, without a fight. As soon as the door

clicked shut, he pulled Sebastian into his arms, holding on

tight.

“I missed you, baby.”

“Oh.” Seb stepped in closer, breathing in deep. “Oh,

fuck. You’re real.”

“I am. I saw you on TV.”

“Did I sound good?”

“You sounded amazing. Just looked so sad.”

“I’m tired. I miss home. Fido.” Seb sighed. “You.”

“Well, you’ve done all the charity things, right? Let’s

cancel the press junket.”

“Can we?”

Markus shook his head, sometimes he forgot, how little

Sebastian had dealt with his career. He had never been

allowed to be hands on.

“We can so do that. We’ll get Bev to work up a press

release.”

“Okay. Yes. Please.” Seb squeezed his fingers, swaying

against him. “Kiss me. Kiss me, Markus. Now.”

“Yes.” Markus kissed Seb hard enough that he tasted

blood, grinding them together all up and down.

Seb opened up, groaning for him, tongue sliding against

his. Pineapple. Seb tasted like pineapple. Markus fucking

hated pineapple. The flavor of failure, was how he thought

of it. Sebastian defaulted to pineapple and protein shakes in

times of stress.

Markus was going to work the knots right out of the

man.

He grabbed that tight little ass, fingers digging into

the denim hard enough to make Seb feel him. He wanted

Sebastian to know he wasn’t alone, that there was always

someone to help. Always Markus.

“Candy.” Seb rolled, pushing into his touch.

“Hey, baby. Did I say that yet? Hello?” He kissed Seb

some more, needing the close touching.

“Uh-huh. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I had to be.” He wasn’t letting anyone hurt Seb again

after all they’d been through: kidnapping, starvation, years

in the closet.

“Did your schedule change?” Seb wasn’t following along

and he looked at those pretty green eyes. The pupils looked

normal, but they were bloodshot and Seb looked fucking

exhausted.

He took Seb’s cheeks in his hands, staring into those

well-loved eyes. “I saw you on TV, baby. You looked off.”

Those eyebrows drew together and he could see

thunderclouds building in the man’s eyes. Boom. “Are you

accusing me of something?”

“Of being wore out? Yeah. Of eating pineapple. Yes.”

That was all. He knew better on the rest.

“That’s it? You don’t think I... because I haven’t.”

No. No, Seb wasn’t on the speed again, but Markus

would bet he wasn’t eating and was working out seven

hours a day. “I don’t, baby. But I worry that you’re driving

yourself into the ground.”

“I don’t know what else to do.” And that was it, wasn’t

it?

He smiled, then started humming, deep in his chest. He

knew. Markus knew just what to do to make Sebastian real

again. He squeezed that tight ass, already anticipating. They

danced together, rocking to the beat in Markus’ head.

Sebastian begged another kiss, and he gave it. They were

like drugs, those kisses. Only better. Warm hands dragged

down along his arms, fingers massaging his muscles. Seb

could always tell when he was too tense, was so responsive.

He pressed one leg between Seb’s, pushing a little. That

hard cock moved against him, Seb rocking on his thigh.

The soft fabric of Seb’s jeans rasped against his, the little

noise making him crazy. Good, so good. There was more to

come, though, and Markus yanked at Seb’s belt, tugging it

open before getting rid of the little bit of t-shirt.

“Candy!” The sound was half laugh, half moan, and

Markus loved knowing that sound was his -- only his.

“What? You got too many clothes on, baby.”

“I was sitting in the chair. I figured they’d frown on

naked butt cheeks on it.”

“You think?” He wouldn’t ever frown on Seb’s cheeks.

“I got plans for your ass.”

“Plans?” Seb stretched for him, letting him see all that

waxed smooth skin. Goddamn.

“Uh-huh. Like this.” As soon as that ass was bare he

popped it.

One of his favorite things about his Seb was that the

man didn’t fake it, didn’t pretend that he didn’t need what

Markus offered. Those lean hips rolled, pushed right into

his touch. He heard the hitch in Sebastian’s breath, felt the

way Seb’s heart raced. So he swatted again, letting himself

connect even more firmly.

Seb cried out, the sound like the hook of the best song on

earth.

“Bed.” He wanted Seb spread out, sprawled for him,

spread for him.

Sebastian nodded, pulling him to the bedroom of the

suite, stripping off the rest of their clothes.

He eased Seb over the bed, bent him over so that ass was

offered up. There. Now he had a target and Sebastian could

be comfortable. Seb wiggled for him, muscles rippling on

the sheets, going tight and then relaxing.

Pulling Seb’s ass up just a little, Markus let it fly, his

hand landing on that tight, hot skin. His hand tingled where

it met Seb’s ass. His lover didn’t say a word, just wiggled,

like Seb was taunting him.

Little fuck. Someone needed this so bad. Markus slapped

Seb’s ass over and over again.

“Bastard. Evil fucker.” Seb was dancing under his hand,

moaning for him.

“You love it, baby.” He could feel it, when Seb started to

let go, when the tension started changing to need.

He braced Seb with one hand, pressed into his lover’s

lower back, tilting that ass for more. He stroked for a

moment, feeling how warm Seb’s skin was getting. Yeah.

Perfect.

Sebastian moaned, low and deep, those lean muscles

stretching for him. He popped that sweet ass again, harder

this time, really getting into it.

“Spread for me, baby.” He eased Seb’s thighs apart,

those heavy balls hanging low.

Sebastian moaned, rubbing back and forth, obviously

trying to get friction.

“Uh-uh. No cheating.” He lifted just a little more,

making sure Sebastian couldn’t get contact with the bed.

“Only this.”

“Candy!”

He wanted to laugh, so fucking tickled. Yes. Yes, he

needed this and so did Seb. He spanked until his arm hurt

it was so tired. Good thing he was in good shape. The best

damned shape of his life. He slapped Sebastian again,

loving the sound of flesh on flesh.

“Markus. Markus, come on.”

“What do you want, baby? Tell me. Say it.”

“Fuck me. I want you to make all the bad shit disappear

for a while. I want to just fucking hear you in my head.”

“Our song, baby.” He turned Seb over, and pushed his

lover down onto the bed. Then he reached down, stroking

the tattoo on Seb’s skin, around that amazing cock. Those

notes were his, created for him. It still stunned him, that

Seb had written his best selling hit and he’d never known.

His lover had been telling the world how he felt for

years.

Markus reached for the lube, knowing it had been a

while. Weeks, damn it.

Sebastian grabbed his knees, pulled, exposing himself

and that tiny, tight little hole. Perfect. Hot. Tight. Markus

pushed two wet fingers right in. He gritted his teeth against

the urge to just shoot, come over that taut belly. He held

on, though, because he needed Seb crazy for him, and he

intended to come in that sweet ass.

“Soon, baby.” He pushed Seb hard, in and out with his

fingers.

“More. More, come on, love.”

“I know. I won’t hurt you, though.

“You’ll never hurt me.” Markus got a smile, slow and

lazy, and that just stunned him. Seb believed in him, trusted

him. Loved him completely.

He pulled free finally, wiping his fingers off on his

discarded jeans. Then he pushed right up so he could slide

inside Sebastian’s body.

“Need you, Candy. So much.” Seb’s legs wrapped

around him and it was like coming home, having that hot

ass against him.

Around him. He moaned, slipping deep inside. Hard.

Sebastian’s eyes were huge, staring at him. “Tell me

you’re really here.”

“Here. Inside you.” He nodded, his breath making his

chest heave.

That sweet ass clenched, squeezed him and he grunted.

Fuck. Sebastian was on fire for him, Perfect fit. He threw

his head back and started fucking, all the worry and noise

in his brain turned to throbbing, erotic melody. The music

they made had him singing along, his voice soaring.

“Need.” Beads of sweat popped up on Seb’s smooth,

tanned skin.

“You got me, baby. Touch yourself? Want to see that.”

He got a wild grin, then one of those callused hands

started moving. Markus knew how Seb liked it -- fast and

hard, almost brutal. He could feel how much Seb loved

it, too, all around his cock. Best of all was that tight belly,

keeping Seb’s legs up without support. The muscles there

stood out, and to hell with a six-pack. Seb had a whole

case.

“Fuck, baby. So fine.” He babbled, petting and praising

and fucking until he could barely see.

“Come on. Come on. Markus. Love.” Seb bared his

teeth, shoulders leaving the mattress.

“Yeah. Sebastian. Oh, baby.” He lost it. He just shot, his

balls emptying, his body giving its last bit of energy.

He felt it, when Seb shot too, but it was distant, his entire

body begging him to rest.

Markus slumped, feeling his heart slam against his ribs.

“Stay?”

He snorted. This was his room and Seb wasn’t going

anywhere. “I’m right here, baby. Rest now.”

“’kay.” Seb kissed his collarbone, his throat.

“Shh.” He eased off a little, tugging Seb down with him.

Seb wrapped around him, covered them both up, and

boom, the man was asleep.

Markus hummed, happy to be there, where he was

needed. Of course, when Sebastian woke up, they’d have to

talk about why Seb wasn’t sleeping.

Why Seb wasn’t eating.

Why, maybe, it was time for them to go home for a bit.

***

It was warm when he woke up. Warm and he smelled

something good. Something...

“Markus?”

“Hey, baby.” That big body shifted against his. “I got

breakfast brought up.”

“You are here.” He rolled closer and snuggled. “I thought

I was dreaming.”

“I saw you on that show and I had to come.” Markus

smoothed a hand over his ass, which stung.

This low sound pushed out of him, deep and raw. He

loved that ache, that faint burn. Hell, he loved Markus, full

stop. “Did I do something stupid on the show?” He didn’t

remember stupidity.

“No.” Markus stroked his cheek. “Of course not.”

The touch made his eyes cross, made his cheeks stretch

in a smile. “Good. It’s hard for me, these days.”

“Stage fright. Who would have thought?” Markus teased

him a little. Okay, a lot, but that made it better. Laughing

made his chest looser.

He pinched one nipple, making sure to tug hair on the

way, and when Markus rolled over on top of him and

started tickling, he cracked up. Markus snorted, chuckling

hard, playing with him. It felt amazing, to laugh, to trust in

Markus to make sure he was okay.

Sometimes he needed to know where home was, who

he belonged with. If he went too far astray, he forgot, and

things got a little nuts. It made it worse now, because most

of the time he was solid as a rock.

Markus kissed him, their laughter faded into something

warm, sweet as pie. God, he loved being with Markus.

“Tell me you brought your guitar.”

“I did. I got someone to bring yours to my room with

breakfast. They’re good here. Discreet. Bev did good.”

Markus sounded so proud of himself. It was adorable.

“Breakfast?” He couldn’t help wrinkling his nose.

“Uh-huh. Blueberry pancakes and sausage.”

“No pineapple?” He loved pancakes.

“Absolutely not.” Markus got the tray, padding around

the room, naked as a jaybird.

“I like pineapple.” Sort of. Partly it was just his

obsessive shit. Sebastian knew that, but the knowledge

made it no easier to avoid the behavior.

“I hate it,” Markus said, voice flat.

“What?” Could you hate a tropical fruit?

“Pineapple. I can’t stand it.”

Shit, Markus sounded so serious. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I never really liked it much, but now it

makes me gag.” Markus munched a little, eating pancakes.

“So I shouldn’t have Bev put it on your rider?” He

looked at the food, then pushed into Markus’ arms instead.

“Nope. Not even a little.” Markus kissed him, tasting like

pancakes. Maple and blueberry and butter. Delicious. Far

better than eating.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around those wide

shoulders, letting Markus be his rock.

“Have a bite of pancakes. They’re good.”

Sebastian shook his head. “You’re better.”

“How about I feed you, then? You can lick my fingers.”

Markus put word to deed, feeding him a tiny bite of fluffy

dough.

Oh, yum. He nibbled, then sucked the syrup off Markus’

fingertips. That was the best way to eat breakfast. He’d

missed it so much.

“There we go.” Markus fed him another bite, then licked

syrup off his lips.

Humming, he rocked against Markus, pleasure making

the world a little pink. The music inside him started to

come out, a hook forming in his brain.

Markus smiled for him, eyes heated. “Sing for me,

baby.”

“Forever.” He hummed, then ate another bite. This

was the important stuff in life: Markus, the music, even a

blueberry. It didn’t take long before he was full, focused on

leaning on Markus, touching.

Markus pushed the food aside, laying him back down,

kissing him long and slow. It stole his breath, made him

moan, deep in his chest. He wrapped his legs around

Markus’ hips, glad that even breakfast came with dessert.

They rocked in a slow waltz, hips rolling nice and easy.

He hummed, the idea of a sexy waltz appealing to him.

Markus would have to cut it for him on the next record.

Those fingers played his stinging ass, and that ache

made his balls draw up. His toes curled, his entire body

luxuriating in the pleasure.

“Love that smile, baby.”

Sebastian knew that. He knew it. Markus had come out

for him. Markus knew when he was at the end of his rope,

knew him better than anyone.

“I tried, Candy. I tried to make it this time.”

“You did good. We just have to remember something.”

Markus peppered his face with kisses.

“Remember?” He chased that sweet mouth.

“Uh-huh. That we’re spoiled now. It’s harder to go

without.”

Sebastian nodded. “I’m used to being...” He thought

about it a second. “Happy.”

“Settled in our bones. Exactly. It’s like how I couldn’t

call you when some chick spilled her little pink umbrella

drink all on me because you were in rehearsal. I stank for

two hours.”

“Ew.” Sebastian let his fingers explore idly. He loved the

bumps and lines and planes.

“Yeah. Sticky, too.”

“I should have been there to rinse you off.” His tension

was nothing but a distant buzz now, just a weird hum.

“Oh, I would have loved that. I like showering with

you.”

“Uh-huh. I like soaping you up.” His fingers tangled

in the heavy mass of curls above Markus’ cock, tugging

lightly.

Markus hummed, the sound like a hook to a song.

Sebastian hummed another line, another chord. They were

going to have to get the guitars soon, the score paper.

For now, though, they could just wallow a little.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.” Markus kissed his forehead. “I missed you.”

“Yeah. I missed us. Bad.”

“Well, now we don’t have to pine away, huh?”

“Butthead.” He popped Markus’ butt, cracking up. “I

want to bubble in the hot tub. Do you have one in here?”

“We do.”

Oh, woo hoo. Markus was the man.

He hopped up, stretched, wiggling from side to side.

“You going to take me home soon?”

“I am. I think we need some rainforest, huh?” Markus

stood, too, that big old body moving easily.

“Some time in the quiet. I have new songs to show you.”

“Good. That one we just had going is a nice one.”

“Yeah.” He walked over, nuzzled Markus’ jaw.

Those long arms went around him immediately, holding

him close. Markus kissed his temple, loving on him.

“Hot tub. Then music.” Then maybe they could do for a

long drive, explore a bit before they headed home.

“Sounds good, baby.” Markus picked his ass up and took

him to the hot tub, just like a big old gorilla.

Better.

So much better.

Hell, he might remember how to breathe again.

Remember how to sing.

End.

Remembering to Breathe

Copyright © 2013 by BA Tortuga

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Printed in the United States of America.

Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / June 2013

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press,

Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680