3.

‘Words.’ Fred confessed, sitting back and stretching his legs out in front of him.

‘Words?’ Darren repeated, ‘as in…’

‘Yeah, dirty talk.’ Fred stroked his goatee in contemplation, ‘Have you ever had a lover who you were fucking and didn’t say anything, just moaned and groaned?’

Darren smiled and nodded. ‘Yeah.’

He thought back to the first time Daniel had come to him, seeking comfort and reassurance, nothing else. But something else had occurred. It had been desperate and frantic, Daniel pounding into him with a succession of noisy, half-coherent grunts, taking all his frustration and pain out on Darren. Yet with each thrust Darren had felt his body relaxing and by the time Daniel had come he had been sobbing in Darren’s arms. Broken.

After that nothing had ever been the same, both in their friendship and professionally. Daniel had wanted out, out of the band and although it had broken Darren’s heart who was he to deny Daniel anything?

What he hadn’t wanted out of though was the late night long distance phone calls, the x-rated IM sessions and the impromptu trips back and forth across the Pacific that they both made from time to time.

‘…and haven’t you ever wanted to hear them describe what they were doing, how it felt while they were fucking you?’ Fred continued, his eyes darkening.

For some reason Darren felt his heart begin to race. ‘What like, ‘your big, pulsing cock feels so good moving inside my tight, hot, wet pussy’?’

Fred laughed, deep and loud. ‘You know for a pop brat you’ve got a pretty foul mouth on you when you want to, but yes, just like that.’

He got up and went over to help himself to a beer, Darren having neglected his role as host when Fred had began his questioning.

‘And do any of your lovers do that?’ Darren asked, now genuinely intrigued.

‘Unfortunately too few, most feel too self conscious,’ he shrugged, ‘mostly it takes too much effort to explain what I want, to ‘train’ them.’

Darren knelt up, resting his elbows on the back of his chair. ‘It’s funny but I would have put you down more as a ‘whips and chains’ kind of guy myself.’

Fred took a swig of his beer. ‘Words can be just as powerful, more so sometimes, never underestimate the power of words.’ He swung his can round for emphasis then titled his head before adding, ‘though whips and chains have their place too, just not my main bag if you know what I mean.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Darren agreed, ‘horses for courses and all that.’ He caught Fred’s eye and they both let out a dirty snigger.

‘Now that,’ Fred said lavaiously, ‘is a whole different ball game.’

He came and sat back in his chair, slumping down with his legs parted. A typical male stance.

Darren twisting round to sit with his legs tucked up under him, leaning lazily against the armrest.

For a moment silence reigned in the room.

Not necessarily an uncomfortable one but one that was laced through with an odd sense of erotic tension brought on by the intimate nature of their conversation.

During this silence Fred studied his beer can intently and then finally raised his eyes to meet Darren’s.

‘Look I feel like I haven’t been entirely straight with you…literally,’ he added, his mouth beginning to curl up into a wry smile, ‘you know I said that Wes uses the term ‘booty call?’

‘Yeah.’ Darren replied cautiously, suddenly a little unsure as to quite where Fred was going with this.

‘Well the reason I know that is because that’s what he calls it when I go to his hotel room on tour.’