When We Were Us

Chapter 1

*~*Jon's POV: June 8, 2013*~*

"You have got to be kidding me?!"

"Richie canceled his flight from Hawaii," Paul says in the receiver.

My head drops into my hands and I blow through my teeth. "Fuck...We have a concert TONIGHT! The fuck you mean Richie canceled his flight?!?!"

I look up as a knock came at my door and I tear it open angrily, David standing there in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans. He only has to look at my face, no need to ask the question. He follows me back in and sits on the sofa across from my bed.

"He didn't..."

"Yeah, he fucking did. Fuck are we gonna do, Lema?!" I pace the room and grab a wine bottle.

He takes it from me and grabs my shoulders. "We're gonna be on fuckin' point like we are every night. You, me and Tico are not letting this fuckwit slow us down. Call Phil and have him hop a red eye. We're gonna get this done, Cap."

I'm able to take a painful breath as David makes a few calls. I send a text to Richie. Maybe he'll afford me an explanation on a personal level...

I drain my wine glass and flip through the TV channels. It's 2 am. I can't sleep but the band members are sleeping like little fucking babies. Goddamnit, I envy them. My head pulsates and anxiety rises from our concert earlier. You try playing for 10,000 screaming maniacs and see how you handle it.

My finger smashes the power button and I toss the remote on the table. Night time is a bitch. Gives you too much time to think. David's suite is next to mine and I listen to his light snoring. It's almost as rhythmic as his playing.

I had turned down his offer for a midnight bitch session, now I wish I hadn't. Even if it was him complaining about his kids, it would beat being alone. I glare down at the setlists for the next three concerts in Lema's awful handwriting and flip through them.

'There's no wind and there's no rain in the eye of a hurricane' is scribbled at the top of a page. He chose some oldies and goodies. Leave it to him to know our music catalog inside and out.

"Sure know how to hit the nail on the head," I chuckle to myself. He's been my best friend since we were 16 and playing in Asbury Park for chump change. I can clearly remember the young David Rashbaum in the basement doing his homework between sets.

The friendship had been a natural thing and he was the person I could always go to. When we got a record deal, he was the first one I called. When Slippery went number 1, we stayed up and drank in celebration. When Dorothea divorced me, he was the one there and let me stay at his place.

This wasn't an easy feat considering he and April had newborn twins, but I got some quality Uncle Johnny time. Then the day came that April left him. Their divorce was bitter and I was there for him. I listened to him cry and bitch, or just pass out drunk on my bed.

It was only within the last two weeks that I found my thoughts shifting. I'd catch myself glancing over at David, or watching him walk up the steps. Especially in his tight leather pants...

I shift on the couch and find myself getting hard thinking of David in those pants. And without them. And in the shower...gloriously wet in the shower. My hand squeezes at my dick impulsively. I look over to the door that separates us.

'Maybe he'll like it...'

'What if he doesn't?'

'He will.'

'David is straight...'

'Maybe he's bisexual?'

I shake the internal voices from my hand and stand, walking towards the door and creeping it open slowly. 'Fuck what am I doing?'