New York (LoW prompt: Bubble)

[killingsoftly]

The first couple of days had been like in a dream of pure joy. He still had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't actually dreaming, that it all was real. That more than just the fact that Warren was with him, that Warren loved him. That he ... even in his head he stumbled over the word, but he managed it...loved Warren.

There was fear there, too. Always fear, of what he could do. Of what he'd done before. That Warren would wake up one day and realize just who and what he was in bed with. That Warren didn't know the worst of it. The lives he'd taken knowingly. Purposefully.

That the full knowledge of him would burst the bubble of happiness they were floating in.

He pulled on his leather pants and shrugged into his silk shirt. Earring in, just one, shirt half unbuttoned. He added a touch of eyeliner, something to draw eyes to his. Nothing too elaborate. Nothing like what he'd paraded around in the years of Glam. But a touch. He was tousling his hair, adding in gel when his cell rang.

He glanced at the number and sighed. He almost didn't answer, but he finally did. He wondered how she'd known he was in town.

"Brenda."

"Devin, darling," her voice was always so chipper and yet refined. "You naughty boy, you didn't call and tell me you were in town."

He continued to fuss with his hair. "No, I didn't."

"I thought that was our arrangement."

"It's not? I call when I need work, luv, but currently I'm doing just fine." He wasn't, really, but his investments would hold. He'd saved well. He could afford to not have to work for her for a while.

"Devin..." She sounded like she was chiding him. "Kathryn saw your poster. She'd like to see you after the show."

"Not possible." He slapped on the aftershave a little too vehemently.

"And why not?"

"I have plans." He swallowed, closing his eyes as he prepared to cut the ties. "Rather permanent ones."

There was a long pause on the other end. "You're quitting?"

He took a deep breath. "Yeah. I am."

"You can't do that. You're my most successful..."

"Everyone quits at some point, Brenda. You did."

"You're at your peak!"

"I'm done." For now.

"Devin...you've always said..."

"I know." He leaned against the counter.

"You're the best."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Yeah. I know." It was his particular gift. "I'm still done, at least for now, okay?"

Another long pause and then a sigh. "She must be something."

He smiled a little. "He is."

She chuckled at that. "Kathryn will still be there tonight."

"I'll deal with her."

"She's a very important client."

"I'll deal with her nicely."

"If you ever..."

"Yeah, I know. I'll call."

She sighed one more time and then he heard the click. He set the phone aside, closing his eyes again and rubbing his temples.

He'd need to book more gigs, for the energy and the money. Cut new CDs and push them. Maybe actually put up a website with ordering. Something to bring money in to keep them going. And he'd have to make these phone calls in most major cities in America.

It wasn't going to be easy, but he just...he didn't know what Warren would say. Didn't want to find out, if it disappointed him. Didn't...He wanted them to stay as happy as they were. Whatever it took. He'd just have to pull more from the audience. Take from them what he couldn't get elsewhere. He could make it work. He gave a resolute nod, and reached to work on messing his hair up just a bit more.

Comments

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

"'kay."

And then they were on their way.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin was quiet as they drove, but not a bad quiet. He was generally quiet before a gig, pulling in his energy and focusing it and preparing for the performance to come.

He opened up a bit at the taqueria, chattering about tacos around the country in a way that would have made Fred gleeful had she known.

After he was done eating though, he squeezed Warren's hand and then settled cross-legged in the seat, eyes closed as he finished getting mentally ready. It meant more, now, with no groupie to take home after, and with Warren not to hurt. He had to be on, fully, and take what he could from what they launched in the air, which meant absolute focus.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren kept an eye on him for a bit on the first part of the drive. The silence wasn't all that natural, even before a gig, although things were of course different now. He'd seen Devin's behavior afterwards, flirting, picking up the occasional girl or guy. Devin might be thinking about how that was changing, now.

Might be having regrets. With Warren there, in this suddenly new capacity, that wasn't really feasible, although they'd half-had that discussion already. They'd agreed, no groupies this trip. But was he regretting it now?

Warren wasn't sure. It made him pull back a bit, focus on the road and staring outwards and inwards all at once. He'd find out over the evening, anyway. He hoped there weren't any regrets, Devin had said there weren't. Saying something and carrying it out were two different things.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin reached for his hand again, focused enough to be able to pick up the subtle fluctuations of emotion, if not the thoughts. He curled his fingers through Warren's, holding on, but careful not to start opening up to his energy at this point.

He didn't open his eyes until he felt Warren pulling over, finally flickering back to the surface and looking around with a sort of dreamy air.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren glanced at him again, this time back to worrying about whether or not he was all right. It seemed normal, if a little... more... than usual.

He smiled a little, gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ready to roll?"

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin took a deep breath, nodded and smiled.

"Ready."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

It was easier once they got in. Once he'd settled back into the routine of setting up, sound checks, making sure everything was going smooth. Making sure everything sounded like it was supposed to. He didn't have time to worry about much of anything that wasn't directly related to the show.

There was a good-sized crowd here, too. Bigger than back at home, which was good for Devin. Bigger than he'd expected, almost, which he thought was due to more promotion and a bigger venue than Devin's last New York gig, although he wasn't sure. Wasn't as sure about that aspect, and he'd have to remember to ask about that.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin mingled a bit with the crowd, smiling and being charming, and avoiding Kathryn, who he didn't see here yet. The opening bands were pretty good, and he slipped back with Warren to watch them, unashamedly drinking in what they were throwing out at the audience.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren glanced over at him as he came back again, smiled a little. He was more tentative than usual, though, about sliding his arm around Devin's waist. Not sure whether or not that was all right, here. Both because Devin had his groupies, and because it might have been unprofessional.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin leaned into him, shifting a bit closer with a smile. The groupies could deal and in his world professionalism meant showing up on time and giving a good show and not trashing the facilities.

"They're good, yeah?" He nodded toward the second band up.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

"Yeah..." And he was surprised, although he was surprised in general how good most of the bands around here were. Why they weren't bigger.

Or maybe they just didn't want to be, like Devin. For their own reasons.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin closed his eyes, listening, pulling at their energy, then pushing a bit so they suddenly had more of it, the next song leaving people jumping and screaming in the audience in delight. He just smiled and drank it in, feeling himself start to hum.

Maybe this is what he could do more of, going to listen, finding a way to make everything stronger here.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren glanced over at Devin as he hummed along with the music, smiling softly to see him enjoying himself. Maybe this wasn't so much different. Just... warmer.

He snuggled a bit closer, stretched up a bit more relaxed.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin shifted a bit in front of Warren, so he could lean back into him, feel him against the length of his body, warm and solid and so very much there, which just heightened the rest of it.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren's arms slid around his waist, one hand over the other wrist, loosely. His cheek rested against Devin's hair, chin over his shoulder. It felt good. Right.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin's groupies were definitely giving them looks, looks filled with speculation, sizing Warren up, and most of them seeming to like what they saw.

Devin snuggled back against him until the music stopped and the curtain fell and people started milling about getting drinks.

"Showtime," he whispered, giving Warren a grin.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren grinned right back, following him into the backstage shadows to steal a kiss before the show.

"See you on stage."

Another kiss, and then he tore himself away to head back to his station at the soundboard.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin grinned to himself, pulsing with the energy from the other bands, from the audience already, from sheer happiness itself.

He tuned his guitar again and nodded to his hired back-up. They were his regulars in New York and they knew his stuff. Anything new, he'd do solo or they could pick up fast. It was why he hired them.

"Ready boys?" They all grinned and assented and he got settled on stage as the curtain came up.

One long chord and there were excited shouts. He gave a wicked little smile and then launched in to the first number.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren smiled.

It was easier than he'd expected to keep his focus, at least. Make sure everything was functioning, everything was coming out right. There was some initial trouble with the backup guitar's mike, easily fixed. Other than that, everything seemed to be going well.

Well enough that he could stand back a bit and relax, keeping an eye on things, on the crowd, on the boards, on Devin. Listening to the music with the ear he'd been developing, listening for entertainment and listening for quality all at once.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin was focused on the audience. Action. Reaction. Pull them closer, push them away. Rock anthems to ballads to something far more indie and then with a flash of whimsy a number or two of Elvis', Devin-style.

He had the full range of things. Lyrics that throbbed and resonated and were meant to speak to the intellect as well as the heart. And then, just when they thought they couldn't take anymore, he'd slide into something else just to make them want to dance, to watch them dance.

A love song to her. A proposition to him. All part of the act, and he threw himself into it wholeheartedly, pulling more from them than they thought they could feel at something so simple as a concert.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren smiled, listening. Watching. It was more than he'd seen Devin do in a while, if ever. More energy, more brilliance, more sex. More of everything.

He could feel his skin thrumming with what he was starting to identify as theatre-high. And underneath that, a layer of excitement all Devin's own, that he'd only ever noticed the other man able to bring out. He had to drag his focus back to the soundboards, make sure it continued.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

The set was supposed to be 45 minutes. A few beers and a lot of water had appeared on the edge of the stage for him and the boys, and he appreciated that. At an hour, he tried to close with his final number, but the audience kept crying out for more.

He glanced back at the house manager who gave him a wry smile and a shrug. People were buying alcohol. Were dancing. It was good for business if Devin could stay on stage.

He shrugged a little back, tossed the audience another grin and picked up his guitar again.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren narrowed his eyes at that. Encores were all right, but let them go on too long and he worried that Devin would be exhausted. He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, wondering.

Well, Devin probably knew his limitations. A couple more songs would be fine, anyway. After that, he'd see if he could use the backup as an excuse.

Which might not be an excuse, even, as he took a closer look at the rest of the musicians. They didn't draw energy the way Devin did. They were looking damp, at the very least.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin gave them another 15 minutes, but he could feel the band's energy flagging as well. They at least needed an intermission of sorts, not being used to going this long and hard.

He managed to ignore the calls for more and definitely his own hunger for more. He hadn't pulled that much in a while and he felt like he was flying when he stepped off stage. He drank a bottle of water backstage, accepting the accolades from the band, before finally moving back out to the audience.

His shirt was clinging to his skin, and it wasn't helped by all the girls trying to touch, to pet. They wanted him to sign things and he did. They wanted CDs, he promised to get more burned. On a whim, he grabbed a notepad from the bartender and deputized one of the girls to get email addresses. If he was going to do this, a mailing list might be good. He'd resisted until now.

He was weaving his way through them all, a kiss here, a squeeze there, an autograph on a body part or two, when arms closed around him and he heard a soft purr.

"Hey, lover..." Then her lips were on his, sweet and enticing and he was left wondering again why exactly Kathryn felt the need to pay for sex.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren moved through the crowd towards the rest of them with a mildly amused expression on his face, working more towards making it to Devin without being grabbed, drenched in beer, stepped on, elbowed, or otherwise manhandled.

They loved it. They wanted more. And Devin would probably be all right with this, maybe even if they played some bigger venues. Slightly bigger. Too much more and it'd lose the personal touch that Devin seemed to like. The girls were all right. Devin liked playing the game, and Warren didn't mind watching.

This other woman who seemed to think she was entitled to something more personal was different. He was four feet away when she suckered her lips to his and his eyebrows shot up, all expression falling from his face, hair falling in front of his eyes again. He shoved his hands into his pockets.