Love Ain't For Keepin', 2

Page Two

sallyface90--Pete listened to what Keith was saying intently. Despite what others may think, not making complete eye contact and sometimes turning his back while someone was speaking, the guitarist hears every single word that is spoken, whether to him or not. He fed off of that feedback; it let him know just how screwed up he was getting. He knowing this at least kept off insanity for a bit longer. He listened to Keith in particular, though, because it seemed that this man's words meant so much  more than others. They were the words that he fell asleep and awoke the next morning to. Just the plain memory of those words. That and the memory of Keith's face to juxtapose it. Perhaps he was obsessing, daydreaming of the drummer as if there could be something possible between the two, because no matter how or when or why, there would always be a Sean in the picture. Always. The only way Pete would ever be free would be if Sean were dead (and he didn't have enough fight in him to do the deed himself). And, who's to say that Keith even felt the same way. It wasn't likely, seeing as Moon was always flipping back and forth between groupies and even John for a while. Still... it never hurt a man to dream. Settling in to hear the drummer's input on the discussion from the studio, crossing his legs to make himself more comfortable, he was caught off guard by the sudden closeness of Keith, the man dabbing his bloody brow. "Wh-wha--" he began to whisper, but Keith's steady voice soothed him..as it always did. But, damn, if didn't have to ask the question.... "Wha' happened?.. Uh... I was coming home this afternoon...and I was.... I was mugged, yeah that's it. I was mugged." He felt like this was the longest sentence he had spoken in weeks, his heart pounding at the absurdity of it all. He hated being a liar, but he hated being a victim even more.
But, what was he supposed to say? He couldn't give away what was really going on behind closed doors, or his life would be in jeopardy. Sean had made that demand quite clear. He wanted to tear his gaze away from Keith, feeling so inferior to the amazing man before him. He wasn't worth being respected in a relationship, he certainly isn't worth being cared for by Keith Moon. But, at this moment, nothing could take his eyes away from those mesmerizing chocolate browns. He became lost within them, searching for something deeper, maybe a little chance of a mutual attraction. Just something swimming in those beautiful eyes.. Without much thought he reached and took the hand Keith was dabbing his eyebrow with and held it, just held it within his own, eyes still glued to the drummer's. "Mugged..."

RiverMist- Keith's eyebrows rose in slight surprise (although - nothing really could surprise the drummer anymore) as Pete grasped onto his fingers. He felt an instant connection that hadn't been issued between either of them during the entire time they had been performing, and the contact was more then enough to stimulate and prove Keith's growing speculation of rising feelings as: true. Dead true.
As he listened quietly to Pete who seemed distorted in his answering, the moment 'mugging' left his mouth, Keith had gasped, reaching his other hand that held his cigarette up and holding onto Pete's shoulder with sudden urgency. "Pete! Mugged?? Where the fuck did it happen, what did they take from you? Do we need to get you to a doctor to be checked out?" his eyes were only filled now with deep concern for the guitarist, struggling to find the right thing he really wanted to say. Then something clicked somewhere in his mind, a realization that his subconscious was trying to force into his oblivious face. And it partially worked. "Sean...walked you home, right? Where was he?" Keith asked gently, still holding Pete by his shoulder. Suddenly, those blue eyes glazed over and a recoil so sharp sent Keith snapping his hands back like the venom of a viper had been shot into his veins. Curling his head away, it looked as if Pete were ready to disappear again to where ever the man went to when reality became to much to deal with. Confused, yet completely aware.. the drummer scoffed, not willing to put up with that escape route anymore, he approached the man with yet another different tact. One - more effective - yet none-the-less, more difficult to help hide what was stirring beneath the whoring and self-indulgence his own life glorified. Somewhat roughly, Keith tugged Pete back to him.. embracing the man tightly. He shook his head with the same soft snort. "No you don't... stay with me and talk, I.. I just want to help.. if you were mugged, tell me, love, where was Sean?" his voice softened drastically, the clutch in his throat sending spirals of own embarrassment through his heart. But, as he rested his cheek against that of his friend... he couldn't help but not mind in the least. "Maybe we should sign you up for advanced karate lessons...." he whispered, laughing gruffly into Pete's ear.

sallyface90-- Pete didn't want to think anymore. He wanted to melt away, disappear into the floor, and sink into the ground where he thought he belonged. It was by far the safest place to hide when one didn't want to reveal a dirty secret, one that left a scar. Or, in Pete's case, many. It was all too confusing. Where was Sean? Pete didn't know; his so-called 'significant other' never told him where he went off to during the days, didn't even tell the guitarist where his photoshoots were. All Pete knew was he got home at a certain time every day and that he, himself, had better be home before that. How easy it would be to just tell the truth, to spill every single thing that has happened out like a gushing wound, finally allowing it to bleed out and heal. Pete wished this could be the case, because the festering sore did nothing but grow worse with time, eating away at his very psyche. He was going to go insane, he just knew it. He couldn't take it, just couldn't. He jerked away from Keith, only to be pulled back into a ferocious, firm, yet so completely loving hold. He tried to jerk away, half-heartedly, but nonetheless, the drummer held tight to him, his voice ringing lightly in Pete's ear. Stay with him... talk...mugged...where was Sean? All of this would seem much too much for him in any other situation... Any other situation where he wasn't cradled in the arms of the man he loved... Yes, loved. Fuck whatever his head is telling him, his heart was screaming it, and there was no way to doubt or question it. "I might take you up on those karate lessons.." he said lightly, asphyxiating himself on Keith's musky scent. It was enchanting. His nose nuzzling into the drummer's chest, taking deep breaths of the man's cologne and arms wrapping around the man's waist, he felt the wave of fatigue he had been fighting overcome him. He hadn't been sleeping well for so long, it seemed to have become routine: sleep for two or three hours, work, do Sean's bidding... His eyelids were growing heavy, his mind becoming fuzzy, and his lips began to slip and say things that weren't meant to be said aloud. "I could stay like this forever. Don't let me go..."
  

RiverMist- Keith nodded, cooing and shushing Pete without much thought to what he was doing anymore, rocking, rubbing, whatever came naturally to him. "It's alright, love... I won't let you go. Just talk to me... tell me what I can do..." he murmured softly. Keith leaned his head forward and breathed in. What he found was the sweet and warm scent of peppermint tickling at his senses. It was overpowering. So overpowering that it spread a slight dizziness throughout him. And this, above everything else, is why he should have let go, why he should have pushed Pete back before it was to late, before he gave up and gave in to everything his mind was screaming for him not to do but his heart... oh, his heart, that beating time bomb silently egging him on.. telling him the consequences were never as worse on the other side. Fucking liar his heart was to him.. but he didn't move.
Sighing gently into the wisps of hair that still intoxicated,  he leaned his head slightly back... looking into this face of uncertainty before continuing to ask that one question the guitarist refused to answer. "Where was he, Pete?"  
The irony of the situation came from the lower apartment blocks, where, unbeknownst to them... the question would soon be answered. But as Keith continued rocking Pete in his arms, even this unknown fact had little importance to anyone.

sallyface90--Pete was fading fast, losing himself into the morose of his eyelids. Soon to be dreaming. "I don't know.." Pete replied to Keith's prying question, voice drastically saddened. The thing with Pete...get him vulnerable and he'll tell you the truth. "Keith, I don't know about he and I anymore..." He felt a hand stroke his face somewhere in the distance, a stroke that brought him higher onto the surface, into reality and alertness. He looked up and saw Keith so close.. So close. Taking a pointer finger, he ran the tip over and traced the drummer's lips, all the while whispering, "Keith, kiss me..."