Exit Music

But The Rainbow Made The Face Sad

*TW* :

Mentions of sex

The following days begin pleasantly, bright and warm despite it being cold and rainy outside their window, inside their bedroom they won't let each other get cold. Soft smiles and entangled limps amongst the sheets, black coffee and sex and cigarettes, all mingling together in an endless, uninterrupted period of bliss.

Matty wishes for this to be endless, every single morning, for the two to be shrouded by this soft blanket of peace and happiness till the end of days, just the two of them; he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his days like this, in George's arms, in their bed, and forget the rest of the world ever existed because, really, nothing else seems to hold an ounce of significance when George kisses him. Everything: the club and the drugs, their savings running sort and all the secrets kept from each other – it all disappears when they are together.

And everything involving George is bliss: sleep is bliss, the conversations, the scarce meals, getting high together is bliss. The cuddles are bliss, the kisses are bliss, the sex is bliss.

They're going at it like they have been bereft of it forever, which is far from the truth for the both of them, but something about each other is so different, so intoxicating, so addictive, like sex with no one else has ever been; even with their long-term girlfriends, even during those first couple of months when they had been so in love and everything seemed to revolve around fucking, the feeling was never the same and they definitely were not jumping each other every few hours. Matty thinks he has never been this horny before in his life.

It feels like they've been crossing out places around the flat where they've fucked and it's ridiculous how it's a week in and they are already running out.

Matty thinks he is at the point where he walks around the flat with a constant semi even when George is out and really it's slightly embarrassing being this horny all the time, but it doesn't matter that much when it's always a pretty good excuse to have George's hands, and his mouth and his cock. He has started wondering by this point if perhaps he's going through second puberty because sex was last held in such high a place was when he was fifteen.

It's only when George brings home a big project that Matty decides to let him pay attention to something that isn't him.

"I told you, I can't postpone it," George begs with him when Matty replaces George's laptop with his body. He pulls back to stare him down with a stubborn pout. "I'm sorry."

Matty sighs in defeat and drops his head to his chest. "When are you going to be done?"

"In just a few days. Maybe even less if you help me," George bargains.

Matty leans back to look at him. "Really?" George nods, truly excited to work with Matty by his side, and Matty spends the next few days helping George eagerly and he finds that, when George finally turns the finished product in, his brain still obsesses over music.

"Let's do it," he announces the next morning, as he blows smoke from his first cigarette of the day in George's face.

"Do what?"

"Start a band," Matty says, like it's the most obvious thing.

"Matty- " George tries to protest, be the voice of reason, but Matty has already jumped out of bed, stark naked, cigarette between his lips, and half under the bed, going through the boxes they've stored down there.

"Let's go through the old songs first, yeah? Work on some of that stuff-" He triumphantly jumps to his feet, box in his hands which he drops onto the bed. "-see if anything needs changing. In fact," he says, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray, "let's go through the last few I've written as well – I don't think I've shown you these yet."