cherry pain // bronnie

chapter one

He immediately caught my eye as soon as he walked through the door. Brandon Flowers, country music star and the only person on this planet who could look so good so underdressed. He knew what looked good on him while still staying on brand. His fitted flannel shirt, accented cowboy hat, and polished cowboy boots gave off the vibe of a humble country boy but also told everyone that they probably weren't worthy to talk to him.

"Who the hell is that guy?" Mark whispered.

I played with my whiskey glass nervously, "Brandon Flowers -- probably one of the most gorgeous yeehaws you'll ever meet."

Mark squinted at me, "ex-boyfriend?"

I laughed, "God, I wish -- I have never had a conversation with him longer than two minutes -- that doesn't matter anyway, I think he's straight."

Mark sipped his scotch suspiciously and I returned to eyeing Brandon. I saw my chance to speak when he wandered in front of us. "Hey, country boy!" I called. He didn't hear me, he seemed to busy making his western entrance to notice. "Brokeback!" I called once again.

He whipped around with an annoyed expression which softened after seeing me. He broke into his perfect boyish grin, "Vannucci?"

I couldn't help but return the smile, "Flowers!" I stood up and we shook hands as if I wasn't absolutely feening for him. Mark stood next to me and I introduced him as if I wasn't afraid that he might be dashing enough to make Brandon fall in love with him before me, "this is Mark, a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet ya' Mark!" Brandon greeted. If I could internally wince, that's what I was doing. His subtle accent made me realize just how easy it was to fall in love with him.

"Have a seat, man, we gotta catch up!" I insisted. Luckily for me, Brandon took a seat by Mark and me. "So what are you up to these days?"

Brandon shrugged, "I've got a show in a couple of days, saw there was rodeo going on and figured I'd stop by a little early."

I nodded eagerly and Mark looked at me absolutely horrified I was so thirsty for such a man. "Man, I'd love it if we got to catch up a little more," I cooed, igniting the judgment coming from my right-hand man.

Brandon grinned, once again proving his clothes said "humble", but everything else said otherwise. Perfect pearly whites, blinding me as he flashed them. "I'd really love to-- you still got a place here?"

"Of course."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you have a place everywhere."

"You know it, baby."

****

When Mark left was when everything began to unravel and I stopped holding back.

Brandon and I migrated to the bar. With his hat sat down so I could see his eyes and our knees touching every once in a while, I felt a buzz I hadn't before. After a few glasses of whiskey, it was as though we hit the resume button on the flirting we started years ago. I made sure to make him laugh-- not the shy little chuckle he humored everyone with-- the honky, suffocating laugh you have to beg for.

"God, Flowers, I've never met a someone with a laugh like yours," I chuckled after he recovered from his last laughing fit. I loved his laugh, it was such a contrast to his slow, rumbly western voice-- his laugh was like a suffocating hug in the best way possible.

"Yeah, I know, it sounds stupid," he sighed.

I took offense, "No! Hell no-- it's unique, that's what it is, it's genuinely special."

"Well, get used to hearin' it, 'cause you sure are one hell of a funny guy."

"Pleasure's all mine."

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down at our knees bumping into each other again, "I gotta say, Ron-- no, no-- never mind, forget it."

"What? What is it?"

"It's nothin', it's stupid."

"Tell me."

He paused and shifted uncomfortably, still looking down and away from me. "Shit," he murmured in the most cowboy way I've ever heard then looked up at me, "you're sure as shit one of the most attractive men I've seen in my days."

My heart shook, but I couldn't lose my cool. I couldn't risk losing him, I had to reel him in immediately. "Huh, you must haven't looked in the mirror lately."

He winced and looked away again, "Vannucci, I don't know what you're doin' to me." We both stared down at our knees bumping into each other as I let him collect himself. "Not to sound desperate but-- holy hell, I've never wanted someone as much as you right now. Fuckin' sittin' here hard as a rock."

I felt like I was playing a video game where the character's dialogue was timed. I was the character and if I hit the wrong button, or if I was too late, I'd lose this opportunity. "Well-- what do you want me to do about to?"

He shifted, his relax fit jeans not so relaxed. "Hell, I dunno, I dunno what I want you to do to me-- so many goddamn things, I can't even think straight-- heh, that's funny -- can't think straight..."

His ever growing awkwardness and boner only egged me on, "I can't do anything if you don't tell me what you want, Flowers."

"Take me to your place -- fuck, take me to the bathroom, I don't give a damn anymore."

Before either of us could comprehend our action we were in the backseat of a van, buzzing. "Ronnie, lemme kiss you," he groaned.

"Not yet, baby boy," I grinned. Slowly, the tough cowboy act began to drop. He was speaking in a higher register now, his eyes looking as wide and doughy as ever.

"My parents warned me that people out here in the city are different-- wish I would've listened to 'em."

"You're so cute-- yes, us city folk like to wait a little."

****

I let Brandon into my house. "Can I get you anything to drink?" I offered, stepping in behind him. Quickly, he spun around and grabbed me by the collar, kissing me like he'd die if he didn't.