Screwing the System (28 page)

Cosmo gave another, lazy pump. “Yep. Just figuring out how it’s going to work, what with you being such a heavy git.”

Alasdair yanked a pillow, shoving it under his arse. “I think you’ll find I’m a heavy but remarkably fit and supple git, thank you very much.” He spread his legs wide open and leered.

“With real self-esteem issues,” Cosmo deadpanned.

“I will have if you don’t hurry up and make love to me.”

“Make love? Aww, that’s sweet.”

“Less talking. More shagging.”

“Yes, boss!” Cosmo saluted with his free hand, pulling the other out of Alasdair’s passage. It was the work of moments to slick up his dick before sliding into pressure strong enough to crack rocks. “Christ. You’re tight.” He worked himself in slowly, sliding in a little farther with each thrust. Alasdair’s face screwed up with tension, but it eased as Cosmo massaged his abdomen, working his thumbs into knotty muscles.

“This okay?” he whispered, leaning down to kiss Alasdair’s nipple. A sharp intake of breath and a ripple of muscles around his cock persuaded him it probably was, even if Alasdair didn’t know it himself yet. He bit gently on Alasdair’s nipple, loving the exquisite way that large body yielded to him, welcoming him all the way in with a final rush.

“Fast and hard, yeah? I’m ready for you.”

Cosmo took a moment to enjoy the sensation of being fully enveloped, no barrier between them, before setting up a punishing rhythm. He balanced on his toes like he were doing push-ups, rocking his hips and holding himself over Alasdair to watch the play of emotions over his face. Seeing him like this, sweaty and groaning, all self-control gone, was the headiest aphrodisiac ever.

“More!” The command was accompanied by the pressure of Alasdair’s legs around his back, so Cosmo shifted onto his knees. Lifting those tree-trunk legs over his shoulders, he grinned.

“This is awesome. You letting me do this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

But it did. It stormed his brain on a flood of endorphins. The idea that Alasdair trusted him enough to do this.

Cosmo was going to make it the best fuck of Alasdair’s life.

Hips pistoning and clinging on to Alasdair’s legs, he called on all his energy reserves. He pounded into Alasdair, and the man slammed back at him, upping the tempo, climbing higher and higher. Alasdair’s bass grunts reverberated through him, shaking his body towards climax. If he could just hold back until…

Cosmo let his grip on Alasdair’s thigh slip, and reached out a sweat-slick hand to grab Alasdair’s dick. He fumbled, but Alasdair’s hand closed around his.

They pumped together, eyes locked.

“Cosmo.” Alasdair’s eyes shone and crinkled at the edges. Then they flicked shut, and he flung his head back, the cords of his neck filling Cosmo’s vision.

Wet heat splashed over his hand as Alasdair roared. Cosmo let himself go, let every last shred of control fly away as he blew his brains out through his dick.

Love you.
Cosmo wasn’t sure if he’d said it or thought it, so he voiced the sentiment again as he heaved himself up on wobbly arms.

“You already said that.” Alasdair grinned, and his eyes returned the message.

Not that Cosmo was in any doubt anymore.

Breakfast was late and lazy—croissants and coffee out on the patio, seeing as how the sun had decided to show its face for a change. It was still early in the year, though, and the chill from the bricks beneath Cosmo’s feet seeped right through his threadbare socks. “It’s all right for you with your swanky slippers, but I need to go get my trainers. Hang on.”

“Stay here. I’ll warm your feet up.” Alasdair patted his lap, and Cosmo swung them up onto there. His big, toppy lover gently massaged them while they finished eating.

After finishing his second coffee, Cosmo asked Alasdair about his plans for the day.

“Spending as much time with you as possible,” Alasdair replied, a sappy grin on his face.

Cosmo smiled back, no doubt looking every bit as love struck. “Sounds great, but I do need to go to Wycombe and take care of a few things today. A couple of hours should be long enough.”

“Okay. Oh, and a friend’s throwing a party tonight. Bit of a posh do, but not black tie or anything. Fancy being my date?” Alasdair phrased it casually, but Cosmo knew him well enough by now to see how important it was to him.

A posh do? Not really his style, but what the hell? Anything for the man he loved, right? “Yeah, sounds good. Do I have to get dressed up?” Taking a shopping trip would seriously eat into their together time.

“Yes, I was thinking that outfit you wore on our first date.”

The skull-and-crossbones T-shirt and ripped jeans? “Are you sure? Won’t I stick out like a ruddy great big sore thumb?”

“Oh yes,” Alasdair said, his grin positively evil. “But you’ll be the talk of the party anyway, so why not play up to it?”

Why not indeed? Could be a good laugh, shocking the toffs out of their complacency. “Sounds like fun.” Warmth pooled in Cosmo’s belly as Alasdair massaged between his toes. “All right, then. The rent-boy outfit it is.”

Cosmo figured Alasdair must have a whole heap of work to do—he usually did at the weekends—so he turned down the offer of a lift into town and called a taxi instead. First stop, a cash point, then a stroll back to the old house.

Yeah, the old house. He definitely didn’t live here anymore. For once, though, the cracked pavements and weed-infested front gardens filled him with a strange joy. Life went on. The old structures crumbled, and new ways took their place. Like a seed taking root in a fissure in the concrete, Alasdair’s love had grown through him, changing him, breaking up the old ways of seeing things and turning him into someone new.

Someone more himself.

Maybe Nasher would find someone like that one day too.

Cosmo paused at the front gate. He could hear a vigorous scraping, like someone trying to take out all his frustration on a patch of rust. Sure enough, around the back of the van there was his oldest friend, Nathan “Nasher” Sherman, going at a particularly large patch of rust with a wire brush.

When Cosmo’s shadow fell across him, Nasher looked up. His face registered an instant of surprise before settling down into weary embarrassment. “All right, mate,” he grunted. “Made a bit of a tit of myself last night, didn’t I?”

Cosmo shrugged, hands in his pockets, then forced his shoulders down and stood up straight. “Not really. I get why you’re worried, but you don’t need to be. Alasdair takes really good care of me.”

“Told you to say that, did he?”

“No, and I don’t appreciate you thinking I don’t know my own mind.” Cosmo stared at Nasher until he dropped his gaze.

“Sorry,” Nasher mumbled. “I just don’t get it. This thing you’ve got going. Looks like he’s taking the piss. Bossing you around. Hurting you.”

“Only when I want him to. I need this, Nash. The way he makes me feel. It’s magic. And I love him too.”

Nasher nodded, his eyes empty of hope. “Yeah, I can see.”

“So listen, when I tell you this, you’ve gotta understand this is my decision and absolutely nothing to do with Alasdair. He hasn’t even suggested it.”

“You’re moving out.” Bitter resignation warped Nasher’s tone, and he stared down at the brush in his hands.

“That’s right. And I’m leaving the band too. Not because of Alasdair either. I just… I’ve got new ideas. I don’t want to be playing cover versions or Rizzo’s songs. I want to play my own stuff. I’m getting into the sound of just me and an acoustic guitar. It’s harder, but it’s stretching me. A new challenge.”

Nasher gave a sharp nod, looking thoroughly dejected. “You always were the one with the looks and talent. Figured you’d drag yourself out of all of this one day. You’re too fucking shiny to stay in the gutter with the rest of us.”

“Hey.” Cosmo stepped closer and pulled Nasher into a rough hug. For an awkward moment, Nasher resisted, all bony elbows and hard angles, before slumping towards him. “You’ll find someone special too. Someone who thinks you make the sun come up every morning. Just you wait and see.”

“Yeah, right, someone blind, maybe.” Nasher snorted, but he melted some more. “Love you, Cos,” he mumbled into Cosmo’s shoulder.

“Love you too, mate.” He patted Nasher’s back, then stepped back so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “Now come on. How about a bet? A pint says Rizzo pretends to be pissed off about losing the rent money and waits till I’m gone before doing a happy dance about being in control of the band.”

One corner of Nasher’s lips lifted in a reluctant smile. “Bet you he punches the air in triumph when you tell him.”

Privately, Cosmo agreed, but he’d happily owe Nasher a pint. Especially as it meant their friendship would weather this whole episode. “You’re on,” he said, holding out his hand.

They shook on it, and headed inside to wake up Brett and Rizzo.

Alasdair listened to Cosmo relate the events of his day over a cup of tea. A cup of tea and a rollie, in Cosmo’s case, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not with news like this. Cosmo leaving the band was a welcome surprise, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. Unfortunately, Cosmo seemed to have learnt the art of seeing right through him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m better off without them.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Fortunately, Cosmo sounded playful rather than resentful, so Alasdair let it go.

“So what now?”

“Now, I get to live the life of luxury at your expense. Don’t give me that look. I’m only pulling your leg.”

“What look?” How the hell had his big bad poker face become so easy to read?

“The pained tolerance look. It really doesn’t suit you. Anyway, I thought you might like to know I’ve given Rizzo notice about the rent, and first thing on Monday I’ll be cancelling the Jobseeker’s Allowance, so I thought I’d better find myself a way of earning my keep.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Thanks, but I do. So anyway, I went out and got myself a job, didn’t I?”

“A job?”

“Yes, a real job. One that pays actual money and everything. With tips, it should be pretty lucrative.”

“Tips? So you’ll be a…” He didn’t want to say it. Not that there was anything wrong with being a waiter, but Cosmo could do so much better. Or was that simply love speaking?

“I’ll be the in-house troubadour at Fratelli’s. Every Friday night and Sunday lunchtimes. I know it isn’t much, but it’s a start.”

“It sounds like a really good opportunity for you. No, I mean it,” he added, seeing the sceptical look Cosmo was giving him. “You’ll be getting paid to practise. That’s a nice deal.”

Cosmo tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette and gave one of those cute smiles that dimpled one of his cheeks but left the other side of his mouth almost glum. “Sorry it’s going to get in the way of our weekends, but it’s not easy finding nine-to-five work as a musician.”

Alasdair gazed into Cosmo’s eyes. “Come here.” He waited for Cosmo to stub out his rollie, before pulling him down onto his lap and kissing him. “Don’t be sorry. I can’t think of a sweeter prospect than getting to hear you perform twice a week. Acoustic stuff, anyway. I wouldn’t have come to hear your band that often.”

Cosmo’s grin spread across his whole face. “You mean you’ll come and listen?”

“Just try keeping me away.”

Cosmo kissed him on the nose. “I’ll be relying on you to be my personal cheerleader. Wild applause at the end of every number, all right?”

A warm chuckle escaped him. “All right.”

“And should you feel moved to throw your underwear at me, I certainly won’t object. Course, you’d have to start wearing some first.” Cosmo blinked in mock innocence. “Maybe you’d better throw my underwear at me.”

“Cheeky rascal.” Alasdair reached down and pinged Cosmo’s jockstrap.

Half an hour later, Alasdair stood in front of his wardrobe, pondering the choices for his outfit. The trouble was, there wasn’t a suit in the world that would look right next to Cosmo’s rent-boy outfit, which had now been augmented with a leather collar and cuffs from the toy cupboard. Provocative brat.

Alasdair’s hand twitched and pulled out his leather jeans. Teamed with a black silk shirt, they’d look just on the smart side of kinky. Roger had said informal, hadn’t he, and they’d both be the talking point of the party, regardless of what he wore. Might as well show solidarity and go with something that would make Cosmo feel more comfortable.

Of course, if he really wanted to make Cosmo feel comfortable, he’d cancel and stay at home. But then again, Cosmo had been on at him about meeting his friends, and he didn’t want to make the lad feel he was ashamed of introducing him to them. And short of dragging him into work to meet Mavis, this was pretty much it for friends.

He really needed to do something about that. Being a workaholic wasn’t good for his social life. It was time he turned over not just a new leaf but a whole new volume. Cosmo deserved to be with someone who had a life, not just a job.