31

Each time we walk out onto this stage, I swear the crowds become louder and the lights get brighter. As a child, I threw myself into the spotlight, searching for any opportunity to have eyes on me. Music, theater, or just telling jokes in the cafeteria.

Deep down, I believed that if enough people looked at me, someone would actually see me.

Even so, I never felt like I belonged. Life was always a puzzle, and my curly edges never quite matched the straight lines others expected me to follow.

And then I met this ragtag band of misfits, and finally, everything clicked into place. Eric's rugged cutout found its home in the part of me that can be snippy and insecure, even when I try my hardest not to show it. Dmitri's happy and pure soul, despite his fractured past, reminds me I can come out of anything and still be good . Tai… well, Tai's is just literal perfection and gives me goals.

And then Dante.

At first glance, he's a box whose edges are perfect squares, knife at the ready in case he needs to cut the puzzle to accommodate his shape. But if you get closer, if you put it under a microscope, you find the complex patterns that make up who he is.

I watch as he plays, his fingers moving with grace and precision, gliding over the guitar strings as if they are extensions of his own body. Beads of sweat form on his forehead, and his lips pull into a tight line like they do when he's concentrating.

My gaze darts between the others. Eric pouring his heart out into the mic, voice full of raw emotion, and Dmitri's cathartic drumming, purging the hidden anger he believes goes unnoticed. Tai plays with his eyes closed, not even needing to see his hands as they glide over the keys.

A smile graces my lips as I look over my chosen family.

Who knew we'd work together so well?

Who could have imagined we'd get this far?

I throw myself back into the music, letting the melody guide my movements as my body becomes more fluid. Too soon, the crowd is full of cheers and screams while Eric stands at the mic, thanking everyone for coming out and supporting us.

While I'm packing up, coiling cords over my arm to put them in their respective bags, Eric walks up next to me. He absentmindedly scratches his fingernails through his beard and gazes over my shoulder. "Who is he and what have you done with Dante?" I turn to see Dante in his usual stance, meticulously overseeing the loading of the bus with a clipboard in hand.

I cock an eyebrow at Eric. "That's literally what he does after every single show."

"Yeah, but he's like… happy. " I glance over again and notice the softer appearance of Dante's eyes. Rather than a scowl, his lips are relaxed and his posture is loose, lacking the usual tension. "You're good for him," Eric says, clapping me on the shoulder and squeezing.

"Took him long enough to realize it," I tease as Dante finds me across the space.

Eric lets out a gentle chuckle while nudging me once more. "Take it from someone who knows… he always realized it." And with that, he walks off, leaving me alone to finish my packing.

Dante wanders over with a soft smile on his face, guiding me to a shadowy corner. His hands land on my cheeks as he tilts my face towards him, and then his lips meet mine with such intense emotion that it takes my breath away. My lips separate with some encouragement from his, and our tongues clash as we battle to get closer.

He releases a throaty groan as my name slips out, and in that instant, rational thought escapes me. I grab onto him, my fingers grasping the curves of his ass, pulling him towards me.

It's practically non-existent, the way he freezes.

No one else would ever notice it, and his posture relaxes almost immediately, but I release him and move my hands higher on his body.

"I'm sorry," I murmur against his lips, but he just shakes his head.

"Do it again," he demands, not separating his mouth from mine. When I hesitate, he pulls back until there's only a fraction of space between us. "Touch me, Theo. Exchange the memories for better ones."

Nodding in silent approval, I lose myself in our kiss, my hands tracing a path where each touch is deliberate. They glide across the globes of his ass, mindful to avoid anywhere that might be too intense. When my palms grip the crease where his cheeks meet his thighs, my fingers lightly squeeze and explore as I feel him harden against me.

He breaks the kiss, panting and leaning against me. "We should stop," he whispers, and I nod, lifting my hands to his back and hugging him against me. "Not because it's bothering me," he says with a gentle nudge to my ear, "but because I have to walk to that bus and right now, that's going to be a problem."

I grin as he gives a single rock against me, showing me what I'm doing to him. "Better tuck that away or we'll never hear the end of this."

He glances over his shoulder before reaching to cup my cock through my jeans. "What about you? Think I have time to take care of this?"

"Dante," I groan as his eyes meet mine, and then my waistband loosens as he flicks the button open and slides my zipper down. It's dark in this corner, but if anyone looked close enough, they'd see us.

His hand sneaks into the front of my pants and grips me through my underwear. "You know how much I love you in lace," he mutters, before flicking the elastic and letting it snap against my skin. When he slips inside my panties, I arch into the touch.

The sounds of the band chatting and packing are close enough to make my nerves fire, but the slow stroke of his hand overrides any logic that warns me to stop. My fingers curl around his forearm, his muscles flexing and rolling under my grip as he jerks me in a steady rhythm.

His lips land on my ear as he reaches further and rolls my balls between his fingers. "If I could get away with it, I would drop to my knees right here so I could taste your cum on my tongue." I whimper as I use his hand for leverage, thrusting against his touch.

"Or maybe I'd slide those jeans just past your cute little ass and claim that hole." His finger slides further, probing against my entrance as I rock faster. "Fill you until your pretty panties are soaked with both of us. You would feel it the entire drive home."

He wraps his fingers around me again, stroking as my body grows strained with pressure. "You want that, don't you? To sit in that bus covered in me, that tight asshole stinging from the burn of my cock deep inside you?"

"Fuck, yes, please." My moans escape louder than they should as I lose all restraint, hips thrusting forward while I tense, my balls hugging against me. It's a battle of fighting to maintain control while absolutely fucking desperate to lose it.

He releases my cock and I whimper my protest, but he sits my undies back in place and then grips me through the lace. The simple friction causes my eyes to roll up into my skull as his tongue traces over my ear. "I want you to fill these up for me, sweet boy," he murmurs, and the clank of equipment nearby makes me jump.

I steal a glance over his shoulder to find Dmitri loading up his drums less than fifty feet from us, oblivious to what's happening in this dark recess.

"Ignore him, focus on me. Don't you dare look at anyone but me, " he snarls. My eyes shift to find Dante's brown ones staring down at me. Overwhelmed with the sheer pleasure of it all, words refuse to form in my mouth as he grips my cock tighter, stroking faster as my head thuds against the wall. The moment his fingers sneak lower and push on my taint, my body decides it's had enough, and I come on a low moan.

"That's it," he praises as my cock beats in his hand, a warm burst of cum filling my pants and flowing over his palm. "Come in those panties for me, you perfect little thing." My hips push forward, thrusting against his palm as he strokes me through my release. A violent shudder runs through my entire body, my shoulders quivering against the wall as my thighs quake.

"God," he moans as he explores the soaked fabric of my underwear with an approving rumble. "What I would give to kneel in front of you and devour every drop of that." His fingers drag through my cum and he brings them to his mouth, sucking on them as I whimper.

He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and I moan his name as he buttons and zips my pants. "Sit in your mess until we get home, and then I'll be cleaning you up," he whispers with a filthy grin that has my cock flexing against the warm, damp fabric.

Calm as can be, he walks away with his clipboard in hand, while I'm convinced I've died and gone to heaven.

I'm still in a daze as we make it to the bus, starting the hour and a half drive back to the studio. Fatigue has me drowsy, my muscles worn out from the performance and Dante's magic hands leaving the rest of me completely drained.

Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, and a knowing smile passes between us. My hand falls to my lap, the now-cool dampness of my clothes pressing against my skin. Exhaustion clings to me, but the anticipation of what awaits us at home prevents me from falling asleep.

Eric and Dmitri sit huddled together, engrossed in their phones as they scroll through social media and catch up on posts from tonight's gig. It's something we used to do as a group, but as we got busier, it fell to the wayside. Still, it's fun when one of the guys sends a screenshot or link to a shared post.

"Have you two set a date yet?" My voice is tired as both sets of eyes flicker over in my direction.

"Not yet," Eric says with a nudge to Dmitri. "We're having a difference of opinions. Dmitri wants to just run off and elope and be done with it."

"A solid choice," I offer, to which Eric scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what my mother would do if I got married without her there to witness?"

Dmitri shakes his head as he tucks Eric into his side. "Baby, I told you I'd do whatever you want to do. You can't keep arguing with yourself about it and blaming it on me."

"I mean, I could," Eric mumbles as Dmitri grins and drops a kiss on his temple.

"Will your parents show up?" I'm not sure if it's too direct, but Dmitri doesn't seem to mind.

"Probably not. If they decide to come, it will be because they can't tolerate the public image of their absence, since there may be media coverage."

Eric grunts and shakes his head, mussing his hair against Dmitri's chest. "If you don't want them there, they won't be there. End of story."

I nod my agreement. "Just set Dante up at the door. He can run them off." Dark eyes meet mine from the driver's seat with a small smile. "He'll even get Jugs to help."

"Who the fuck is Jugs?" Tai asks, startling me as he pops up from the backseat.

"Dante's boxing coach." Three pairs of confused eyes focus on me before shifting to Dante behind the wheel. "Seriously?" I ask, incredulous. "None of them know?"

He only gives a one-shouldered shrug and continues driving.

Eric mulls over his thoughts, nibbling on his lip. "So, when you said Dante could've knocked me through the floor…"

"Yeah," I drawl, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Wasn't an exaggeration, buddy."

"Noted," he mumbles.

Everyone drifts off to their own daydreams again as we finish the drive. When we park and climb off the bus, the intense cold causes my breath to turn into mist. We're exhausted, so we rush to unload the equipment and toss everything into the storage room.

After a quick round of goodnights, Dante and I pile into his SUV. He cranks the engine before sliding over and wrapping his arms around me. I tilt my face towards his and catch his lips in a drawn-out kiss, enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine.

Finally, the heat pushes from the vents, but I don't let him go. "Wait! You're so nice and warm," I whine as he scoots into the driver's seat.

"I'll make sure you're nice and warm when we get home," he teases as he backs out of the parking space. The car comes to a halt as a confused expression causes his face to scrunch.

"What's wrong?" I ask in the middle of a yawn. With a headshake, he gets out and retrieves a paper that had been stuck under the wiper. Despite his efforts to control it, a flash of rage crosses his face as he scans it.

"Dante?" I raise my voice to get his attention from where he stands outside the car. As our eyes lock, a wave of dread engulfs me from his expression. "What is it?"

He climbs in and slams the door shut, clicking the lock button and pitching forward to stare at the building. I realize he's tracking the line of sight from the security cameras, and my pulse speeds even more.

"You're scaring me," I whisper, and his eyes snap to mine, filled with concern. I brace myself, thinking he's going to leave me in the dark, but he lets out a sigh of resignation and slides the piece of paper towards me.

My hands shake as I read the neat handwritten note, trying to keep my panic at bay. His hand lands on my thigh, offering me his silent promise as I scan the two words on repeat. They run through my mind like a damning broken record.

He's mine.