Three Part Harmony (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Mike

I clung to Griffin as if I half-expected him to disappear into thin air if I loosened my grip. But being wrapped in his strong arms settled the storm inside me that always seemed to keep me on edge. With Griffin, I had nothing to prove. He already knew me, jagged pieces and all, and he still wanted to be around me. More importantly, he’d been honest when I needed him to be and admitted he was feeling this powerful entity growing between us. This was new for me but I was quite certain it was new for him, too, which made this even more beautiful. We could navigate this unfamiliar terrain together and I loved the idea of doing that with him.

Being with him blurred the details of every other hook-up or short-term relationship I’d ever had. None of them mattered to me anymore. Including the chase I’d stupidly given to Oliver and Sebastian, thinking they would be my perfect triad. I loved the dynamic polyamorous offered in theory, but long-term, I was just not cut out for it. Live and learn, right? But they’re totally irrelevant to me now and obviously weren’t capable of giving me what I really wanted anyway, but it wasn’t their fault. I wasn’t sure what I wanted either until Griffin, but for such a long time I didn’t think his job would allow him to be with me, so I’d closed myself off to the possibility.

Griffin filled a void inside of me that I hadn’t realized was so utterly empty. He made me feel full for the first time, like I truly mattered to someone. Being with him might be like trying to hold on to the tail of a comet but I’d do my absolute best to because he was so worth it. I had a strong feeling he was going to be a very important person in my life—if we were given the chance to explore this together and allow it to naturally grow. It made me want to disappear with him to someplace secluded where we could just live and be—us.

Falling asleep wrapped up in him was a whole new level of intimacy for me. I wasn’t sure how long I was sleeping but when I woke Griffin’s side of the bed was empty and cold, making it obvious he’d been up for longer than a few minutes. I stretched like a cat while I rewound what happened earlier with him and a smile spread across my face. I felt lighter than I’d felt in years and completely relaxed. I reached for my thickening cock as the dirty details of our shared orgasms flickered through my brain. It was a delicious couple of hours where we’d endlessly pleasured each other and I hoped Griffin was recalling the sweaty details now the same as I was.

I rolled from the bed, pulled on the boxers I’d tossed onto the floor, and went in search of the man whose kisses had driven me mad with need. The bathroom was empty as was the living room and kitchen but I found a handwritten note left on the breakfast bar.

I was grinning like a loon from Griffin’s note but so what? Like my Grandma used to say, I was smitten by this man and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. But there was another detail about his note that stuck out to me. He was meeting with his boss, Fizzbo, and that meant Griffin was likely discussing the ramifications of him being in a relationship with me. Hopefully it went okay and Fizzbo was accepting of our situation because I really didn’t want to stop what we’d barely just started.

I walked back to Griffin’s bedroom and took a quick shower before slipping into my clothing he was kind enough to wash and dry. No one had ever done sweet gestures like this for me and I was enjoying the pampering immensely.

After dressing, I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge to find a plate holding a thick, cold cut sandwich with cheese, lettuce, and even a slice of tomato. I carried the plate to the breakfast bar and hopped up onto a stool to enjoy it. The smile never disappeared from my face, even long after I’d finished eating.

I was playing a solo video game when Griffin returned to his condo. He tossed his keys onto the counter and continued into the living room. Without thinking much about it, I paused the game I was playing and stood to greet him by wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his neck. Griffin didn’t even hesitate this time and folded his arms around me, too, and kissed the side of my head.

“How’d the meeting go with Fizzbo?” I asked.

Griffin gestured to the couch for us to sit down. I was hoping this was going to be a good conversation and not one where Griffin was saying we didn’t get Fizzbo’s blessing. If that’s what this was, I’d be forced to make a serious decision about walking away from him because I would not let him lose his job over me .

“It went better than I expected,” Griffin relayed.

“Did he request this meeting or did you?” I asked.

“I did,” he explained. “After what happened earlier, I thought it was best if he knew what was going on. Fizzbo doesn’t like to be blindsided by shit and I respect him enough that I wanted him to know up front versus after the fact.”

“And he wasn’t pissed about us?”

“Well, he wasn’t thrilled,” he said and rubbed a hand over the top of his head. “But he understands how things can sometimes unfold naturally on their own. That’s what happened with his husband and I pointed out a similar situation between a guard that’s on the team and another rocker. Sometimes shit just happens when you least expect it and there’s not much that can be done to stop the train from rolling on down the tracks once it gets going.”

“Funny analogy,” I said and released a low, nervous chuckle. “But will this affect your job status in any way whatsoever?”

Griffin shrugged and an uneasy feeling seeped inside of me. “He said my status is up to me. If I’m too distracted to properly protect you or the rest of the guys then he’ll have to reassign me to someone else—possibly outside of the entertainment business. He basically reminded me that while I’m on duty the job absolutely has to come first and feelings can’t interfere with it—ever.”

“Are you okay with what he said?” I asked.

“I’m a professional and I reassured Fizzbo that I would always put your safety first before anything else,” Griffin said and grinned brightly at me .

“So, we can give this thing a try?”

Griffin answered my question by leaning closer and offering me a kiss. It started off as a sweet touch of lips but turned molten-hot in seconds. Next thing I knew Griffin had my back pressed flat to the couch with him stretched out on top of me.

“Did you do anything fun while I was gone?” he asked in between hot kisses.

“I didn’t go through your drawers and snoop, if that’s what you’re asking in a not-so-subtle way,” I teased.

He bit my bottom lip and pulled the flesh between his teeth. “Too bad, I have very naughty things in the table next to my bed. You probably would’ve had fun using at least one of them.”

I pressed on his chest with my hand. “You dirty dawg! What the hell do you have stored next to the bed?”

“I guess you’ll never know since you didn’t go looking,” he chuckled while he kissed my neck. “You smell delicious, by the way, so I’m thinking you showered while I was out.”

“I did and I may or may not have tugged one out while thinking about how good you sucked my dick,” I said and Griffin’s face flushed.

“Did you really jerk off in my shower?” he questioned after a beat.

“Maybe, but I guess you’ll never know since you weren’t here to see it,” I said.

“Fuckkk, I would have loved watching you get yourself off,” he admitted.

“Yeah? You have a voyeuristic kink? ”

“Not in general terms, but when it comes to you, it’s a definite yes. I’d watch you comb your hair if you asked me.”

“You want me to put on a show for you? Is that it?” I asked.

I felt his cock flex in his pants and took that as a big, fat yes. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one that he’d never forget. Ever. “Push the coffee table back a bit and then sit on it,” I instructed.

While he did that, I pulled my shirt off and removed my jeans before sitting back on the couch wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. My hand absently rubbed at my growing erection while he got comfortable in front of me. His wide-eyed gaze hit mine and he licked his lips. I wanted to follow the path of his tongue with my own and groaned at the thought.

I’d never intentionally done anything like this in front of someone. I wasn’t counting the few times Fletcher caught me beating off back when we lived at my parents’ house. Giving Griffin a show like this was beyond exposing myself and letting him see the vulnerable side I hid from practically everyone. But Griffin made me feel all kinds of bold and sensual—and safe. It was insane, but for some reason I wanted him to see me with my guard completely down.

I slipped my hand into the front of my boxers and squeezed my shaft. Pleasure rippled through me and I bit my bottom lip as I moaned, my gaze never leaving Griffin. I pulled off a couple of strokes before my fingers grabbed the waistband of the garment and pushed them down to my ankles and I kicked them out of my way .

Griffin’s eyes grew wide when my dick came into view and slapped against my stomach. I fucking loved watching him become unglued from watching me. It was twisted and depraved to be seen like this, especially since he was still fully clothed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, but I felt so free doing it. I was rock hard and I knew he was, too. He’d already adjusted himself twice.

My intention was to give him a long, drawn-out performance before my happy ending but the hungry way he was looking at me already had me spiraling way too fast even for my own liking. But apparently, I enjoyed being watched like this, or maybe it had more to do with who my spectator was, more so than my show.

I ran my palm over my dripping head and collected the pre-come, then fisted my cock to make things more slippery. The results drew out a long, agonizing groan from me.

“Holy fuck, this feels so damn good,” I said. “I’m not going to last as long as I hoped.”

“Does it feel better than my mouth?” he asked while his hand massaged his cock and balls through his jeans.

“Your mouth is way better,” I assured him. “Never doubt that.”

I lifted my leg and set my bare foot on top of the couch cushion to fully expose my balls, taint, and hole to Griffin. He made a squeaking sound at the sight and I loved it. He made me feel sexy and alive—and so damn desired . It was a heady feeling to have this kind of power and I could tell my one, lone audience member was absolutely captivated. Watching him while I worked myself over and seeing how every twist and pull on my cock had him teetering on the brink right along with me made me dizzy .

I shoved two fingers into my mouth and covered them with saliva, then moved my fingers down between my legs and right to my hole. I played with my rim for a bit before I eased them inside and Griffin’s mouth hung open, his eyes glued to my movements. The pressure in his pants must have reached an unbearable level because he’d unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out to match me stroke for stroke.

“Can you hit your prostate by yourself?” he asked in a husky tone that made me shiver.

“Sometimes, if I can get the angle right,” I answered.

His gaze burned into me like a blowtorch right at the spot where my fingers were pumping in and out of my hole. Seeing how this was affecting him had me barreling toward an explosive orgasm in record time.

“I bet that feels so good,” he whispered. His eyes momentarily flicked up to mine before dropping once again to where my hands were.

“Fuck, yeah,” I croaked out. I was having difficulty thinking at this point and my vision was getting blurry around the edges.

“Make yourself come,” he requested.

My last thread of resistance shredded and my fist pumped faster. My fingers found my gland and began to put the perfect amount of friction and pressure right where I needed it. It only took a couple more feverish tugs and I was erupting all over my stomach and chest. One rope splashed onto my chin and lewdly dripped from my whiskers. I rode my fingers through the entire orgasm to milk every drop I could but before I had even stopped shooting, Griffin was on his knees before me and leaning in to clean the warm, sticky mess from my skin. It was the dirtiest and sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I was so wrung-out from the release I couldn’t move a muscle. I sat there in awe as I watched Griffin lick up every bit of my orgasm. He finished by cleaning my chin, covering it with his mouth and then licking all the way to my mouth.

I could taste myself on his tongue and then realized he hadn’t come yet. “Stand up,” I instructed.

“Why?”

I lifted an eyebrow at him and he complied. His hard cock was still sticking out of his open pants looking angry and ready to shoot off like a rocket. I wrapped my palm around him and tugged him closer to my mouth before enveloping him right to the root. My other hand drifted underneath and gently played with his heavy ball sac. He curled over me and clutched at the back of the couch for stability and made a humming sound of pleasure.

“Fuck my mouth,” I demanded.

Griffin didn’t need further prompting. His hips started snapping forward and just about choked me with every thrust inside my mouth. He was big, with a lot of girth that stretched my mouth to its limits. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasized about how he’d feel stretching another hole of mine—sooner rather than later.

“Ah, ah, ahhh—oh, fuckkk yes!” Griffin shouted at the same time the first hot blast of him hit my taste buds. It was a debauched kind of nirvana that I absolutely loved. I was still licking my way around his shaft when he stepped back, removing my new favorite phallic-shaped lollipop from my mouth in the process. I was about to sputter about the absence when he bent over and scooped me up in his arms and my legs wrapped around his waist.

“What are you doing?” I questioned.

“We’re both spent and now I want to curl around you and have a nap,” Griffin said while his tongue licked at my swollen lips.

“I happen to be a big fan of naps,” I said and held on to his neck while he carried me down the hall toward his bedroom.

A nap nestled in Griffin’s strong arms sounded like heaven but my mind was restless, and when my brain was jumbled my go-to habit was tapping beats with my fingers, pencils—whatever implement I could find that would work. My mother called it a nervous tick but for me it was just how I sometimes worked through things that were bothering me or taking up too much space in my head. But I also did this when I was feeling creative. It drove Fletcher nuts. Sometimes he’d throw something at me so I’d stop. Most of the time I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.

With Griffin spooning me from behind and holding on to one of my forearms, using my hands to tap beats wasn’t possible. So, I used my feet and toes instead, along with the gentle bob of my head. Griffin wrapped his leg over mine and nuzzled into my neck tighter.

“You’re fidgeting,” he mumbled, sounding already close to sleep.

“I’m actually creating rhythms,” I explained.

“What do you mean?”

“I work on drum sequences in my head when I’m resting,” I said. “And sometimes I do this when my brain is feeling overwhelmed. It helps to sooth me and keep me focused. ”

“Why are you doing it today?” Griffin asked and tugged me closer to his body using his arm and leg.

“The second one,” I said.

Griffin took a moment to think about what I’d said before he spoke. “And why are you feeling overwhelmed?”

I rolled over in his embrace and faced him on the same pillow. With only a couple of inches separating our faces, I could see the light dusting of freckles across his nose and the tiny scar hiding in his left eyebrow. I remembered he’d told me he fell off his bike when he was around eight and scrapped his face up pretty bad. I smiled at what an eight-year-old Griffin was probably like; a rough-housing hellion, I imagined, although I wasn’t much better. It was part of a patchwork quilt of details and snippets that told the story of who we were and where we came from, all sewn together.

I loved how we shared stories of ourselves and our hopes and dreams. Learning about the bits and pieces from his past and hearing the stories from his youth made me wish I'd known him back then. But maybe if we had been friendly we wouldn’t be together in the way we are now. It was hard to say but as a man, I really liked who Griffin had become.

Griffin slowly scissored our legs together and the subtle friction of our leg hair pulled me from my thoughts. I realized I hadn’t yet answered his question and cleared my throat to continue talking.

“My mind gets ahead of me sometimes,” I explained. “I think too much and then things start to spin. Working on drum phrases helps a lot because it forces me to think of the beats and nothing else. ”

“I guess that makes sense,” he replied. “Are you overwhelmed from being with me?”

“It’s a lot for my heart to handle,” I admitted quietly.

“Why’s that?” Griffin asked while kissing the side of my head.

“Because I already— feel things —for you,” I said, “like, big things—things I’ve never felt for anyone before you.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I guess so, but it’s also scary as fuck,” I said.

“How so, Michael?” he asked against my lips. “Tell me.”

“Completely opening my heart to you means you’ll have the power to crush me if you decided to walk away.”

“Michael…you can’t go into something like this already thinking it’s not going to work out,” Griffin explained. “You have to believe in us. If we start off with honesty about everything, then we’re starting off with a firm foothold.”

“I want to believe you, I do, and maybe I will as time moves on, but at the moment, I’ll remain hopefully optimistic.”

“That’s okay,” Griffin said and grinned, “because I have enough faith in this working for both of us.”

How could I not believe in a man like Griffin? But believing in him wasn’t the question, nor was it the problem. This had everything to do with how I’d handle the fallout if this went down the toilet.