2.

Over the course of several long drawn out coffees Darren got to know a bit more about Fred. The guy was surprisingly open, talking about his band, the music, his children.

They talked about the single they were working on and what it meant to them to be asked to be involved.

At one point they got onto the music industry in general and exchanged horror stories of tours and fans, digressing slightly to chat about award shows and TV appearances that they had in common.

By the time they were walking back to their hotel Darren felt extremely relaxed in the other man’s company as it appeared did Fred. He had finally dropped his annoying habit of referring to Darren as ‘Hayes’ and was now calling him by his first name. Progress indeed Darren mused.

When they reached the floor on which they were both billeted, Darren’s room was first along the corridor. He inserted his key card and waited for the tiny light to flick to green.

As they were in deep in conversation at the time it seemed only natural that Fred should follow him into the room and flop down into the nearest armchair.

‘So got any of the hard stuff in that there mini-bar then?’ he asked looking pointedly at Darren, ‘a real nightcap?’

‘Sure, what’s your poison?’ Darren moved over to the fridge and examined the contents, unconsciously humming his line from the song as he did so.

‘No? How then?’

‘Huh?’ Darren turned back to Fred who was sitting looking at him with quirked eyebrows.

‘If you don’t like being punished with brutality then how do you like being punished?’

‘I…erm.’ Darren was momentarily caught off guard by the question.

‘Come now Darren,’ Fred got up out of his chair and came to stand only in front of him putting his hands on the wall either side of him, effectively trapping Darren, ‘you may the subject of a million teenage girls’ wet dreams but you are also a healthy adult male, you must have some kinks, everybody does, however much they may deny it.’

Darren blushed, of course he had certain things that turned him on but he wasn’t about to tell Fred what they were.

‘Come on,’ Fred wheedled, ‘I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.’

Darren hesitated. Fred was right they were both adults. And the dark gleam in his eye told him that Fred wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

‘Ok.’ Darren’s fingers went to the buttons on his shirt.

‘Whoa what?’ Fred stepped back a bit. Now it was his turn to be nervous.

‘Relax,’ Darren laughed, ‘I only want to show you something.’

Finishing unbuttoning his shirt he let it slip from his body and turned round.

‘Holy…’ Fred let out a whistle and reached out to touch the tiny bruises that littered Darren’s back. ‘What the fuck caused that?’

‘My ghetto ring.’

‘ You have a ghetto ring?’

‘Yeah I used to wear it on my belt for a couple of numbers during the last tour.’

Fred’s fingers continued to gently prod the purple and yellowing marks.

‘Ow!’ Darren exclaimed as he poked one particularly enthusiastically.

‘These look fairly fresh…’ Fred voice trailed off in unspoken question.

‘Three nights ago.’

‘Well whoever did this certainly knew what she was doing.’

Darren’s breath caught in his throat.

He turned back to face Fred. ‘Actually…’

Fred just looked at him waiting for him to continue.

Darren took a deep breath and finished his sentence, all the time scanning Fred’s face for any sign of revulsion.

‘…it wasn’t a she.’

‘Oh so the rumours are true then?’

‘Huh?’ Once again Fred had managed to catch him off guard with his line of questioning. Darren was even more surprised to find himself still on his feet and not flat out on the floor with a black eye.

‘About you and whats-his-name, the other guy in your band.’

‘Daniel.’ Darren muttered through gritted teeth. Why couldn’t anyone ever remember his name. The band was both of them not just him alone. Well that was the original intention anyway.

‘Yeah Daniel, that you and he, you know, have a relationship.’

‘Not exactly.’

‘So you two haven’t,’ Fred gestured helplessly with his finger, ‘haven’t…’

‘I wouldn’t exactly say that either.’

‘Then what the fuck are you saying?’

Darren laughed and pulled his shirt back on, re-doing just enough buttons so his appearance could be called decent.

‘I think the term Danny uses is ‘booty call.’

At this Fred cracked up laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’ Darren demanded, unable to help himself from joining in the laughter, partly from relief and partly, he suspected at the satisfaction of seemingly having shocked the so called hard nut rocker.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ Fred went and sat himself back in the chair, ‘it’s just I know someone else who uses that term that’s all.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Wes.’

‘Your guitarist?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ok,’ Darren settled in the chair opposite Fred and sat forward, his elbows on his knees, ‘your turn…spill. What turns you on?’