Neglected Desires

Chapter 21

I quickly made my way up the stairs of Paisley Park to the second floor and to the romantic looking stained glass doors that led the way into his office. I couldn't hear a word coming from the other side of those handcrafted doors and as I stood there I couldn't decide if that should make me happy or worry me more. Tracing my fingers along the crisp lines of the stained glass, studying the seams where one color met another I felt like I should have been able to hear something, even if it was just the murmuring of soft voices caught in conversation. Instead I found myself lost in the loud silence that seemed to be invading this cavernous building this morning. Wrapping my fingers around the door knob, it turned without a sound and the door slipped open. Butterflies ravishing my stomach made me pause for just a moment and I wondered if this was how Tony felt that morning he pushed the door open looking for his boss, only to find us.

I entered the room without creating a sound and looking to the far side of the office I'm met with the one of the most awkward sites I've ever seen. John's back is to me, shoulders covered in a dark colored, heavy coat, his salt and pepper hair and voice the only distinctive features from where I stood. Prince on the other hand was sitting opposite John, on the other side of his glass desk. The normally soft features of his face were void of any emotion as he only vaguely responded to his father's attempt at small talk. The quick flick on his hazel colored gaze up to me told me he'd seen me enter the room and I was given no further acknowledgement. Slowly I crept further into the stuffy room, all the while my eyes stayed focused on him. That white dress shirt, unpressed and slightly wrinkly from having been discarded on the floor in the wee hours of the morning, only buttoned half way as if he couldn't be bothered to continue that simple task. His hair unusually unkempt looking, indicative of his rush from our bed down to face this situation. The pen in his hand pinched between the side of his index and middle finger, wiggling annoyedly just barely above the cold glass desktop. His features held the frosty undertones of a man forced into a business meeting he had no interest in and not that of a man sitting down to have a conversation with his father. The entire room felt confrontational, on the verge of combusting, as I took a seat on the couch behind John and to his side.

"So how has life been treating you boy?" John's stern voice filled the room and his tone made me wonder if Prince had ever heard true praise from his father, the type of praise every child should hear from a parent.

"Fine. What can I do for you today John?" His face, his body language, it doesn't faultier in the slightest from his business professional demeanor.

"Can't a father just want to visit with his son?" John tries for levity, maybe trying to soften the room even, but nothing.

"Sure he can, but what do you want?" A thick fog of silence rolls over the room as the two men sit, staring each other down. Tension caused the quiet minutes to feel like hours before this meeting continued.

"Fine Prince," sounding exasperated, as if Prince had forced his hand into this meeting, "You want t treat me like I'm not your father, that fine. We can make this a business meeting if you like you ungrateful little shit." His exterior remains unphased, but I saw it. I saw that heartbroken glint flash across his soft doe eyes. Maybe he'd secretly hoped for something more from his father, something more fatherly, but instead he was getting the same thing he always did.

"What can I do for you Mr. Nelson?" Words so incredibly cold I wouldn't even want to be a true business associate hearing that tone.

"I need to have an extension added on to the back of the house. I need more room." The pen in his hand stops moving.

"What could you need the extra room for? I housed my entire band at times in that old house and we made do just fine." And he was right about that. I remember visiting the old purple house on occasion and everyone was staying there with room to spare.

"I'm helping out a few friends who are a little down on their luck and I need more space." A small laugh shakes his firm chest.

"So Mr. Nelson, I'm guessing you've filled my house, where you are to be the only resident and live for free, with your drinking buddies." His voice finally layered with the tension that this room was now encased in. "And now you would like me to bankroll an addition to the house so you can continue with this little scheme you have going."

"It's not a scheme boy, I'm helping people." Standing behind the desk, his hands flat on the glass top as he leans over the clear surface menacingly, preventing another word from leaving his father's mouth.

"You've not helping anyone. You're charging your 'friends' rent. You're making money off the home I'm providing to you at no cost.Do you really think I don't know what happens in my homes?" His voice raised, teetering on a yell before he finishes. "Get out. And I want everyone except you out of that house by the end of the week!"

"Now wait a god damn minute boy," John raised to his feet, attempting to look more domineering that his son, and failing, "You owe me. . ."

"No!" Coming around to stand toe to toe with his father, Prince's voice lowers, nearly rattling that glass desk with his yell, "I give you a home, I give you money, I provide you the means to live your life! I owe you nothing else John!" Sucking in a large breath John puts his finger sharply to Prince's exposed chest.

"You faggot . . "

"That's enough!" Raising to my feet I walk between them, attempting to absorb their hateful glares intended for one another, "John, Prince asked you to leave. I think it's best if you do"

"What's this now? Your have women fighting your battles for you faggot?" Venom laced his hate filled words.

"Get out John," Prince's voice now softer, more so than normal, "and don't come back unless I ask you to."

"Come on John." Taking a hold of him by the elbow I lead him out of the office without a single word and down the stairs to the trouble maker that brought him here.

"Take him home." My words directed at Adrienne as she looked at me wide eyed

"Is Prince mad at me?" Her voice more timid than I'd heard before and her face finally showing real concern, for herself at least.

"Just take him home, don't talk to him. Then come in for work tomorrow," her eyes flickered towards the second floor, asking a silent question, "he'll fire you if he sees you now.  Wait until tomorrow, let him cool down." For the strangest reason I felt sorry for her in that moment.  She was stuck between a boss who didn't trust her enough to tell her everything and that boss's father who played on her loyalty.  Without a word she nodded and headed out the door to her car, pulling John along with her.  After watching them pull out of the parking lot and onto the road I locked the front of the building and made my way back to his office.  He was leaning back against the glass desktop, arms crossed tight over his chest as he stared aimlessly at the chair in which John had occupied only minutes ago. 

"Prince?" My soft spoken word bringing his eyes put to mine as a heavy breath passed over his full lips.

"Thank you." Soft words as he unfolded his arms from his chest and wrapped them around my waist, pulling me tight against him.

"You alright?" Bringing my hand up to caress his soft cheek as I watched all those negative emotions flash through his eyes again.

"Yeah." His face coming down closer to me, lips ghosting over mine, "I just need," lips softly landing on mine for a moment, "something." Another soft kiss.

'What do you need?" My words falling like commas between kisses as I felt him coming to life against me.  His kisses turned passionate, fingers camping down tight on my waist as his tongue searched every crevice of my mouth. That was when I realized the tension from earlier in this room was gone and had been somehow replaced with blinding sexual energy.  I didn't know for sure how Prince dealt with stress or situation like this, but it was becoming clearer by the moment. As our exchange became more heated and our hands searched over each other's bodies I came to realize that sex was a means of coping with this for him.  Before I could give the situation anymore thought I was spun around and bent over his desk, my face against the cool glass, as he pulled my pants down and slammed his thick, warm cock into me repeatedly until all the tension in the room was fucked away and we both lay spent on the floor