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Goodbye Isn't Always Forever	By : VioletteVision Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Duran Duran Views: 1345 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-Goodbye Isn't Always Forever
- 1
Goodbye Isn’t Always Forever

By: EDW

I can’t remember the last time my heart pounded this fast. Perhaps it was the time I first saw his face without those horrid specs. It was like seeing him for the first time again, and I could actually see his eyes. I didn’t know they were filled with such fire until then. They were gorgeous. I think I even saw him blush at one point. I was probably staring, but I couldn’t help myself. I had no idea this boy was so beautiful. It’s amazing how changing one minor thing about one’s appearance can completely alter their looks.

I knock on the door, finally. It took me about five minutes to gather the strength I needed to do this. There’s this nasty feeling at the pit of my stomach, and in the back of my mind I worry that he won’t open the door; that he’ll look through the peep hole, see that it’s me, and leave me standing here looking like a pratt. I wouldn’t blame him, but I still pray that he at least opens the door; even if it is to slam it in my face.

After getting no response, I knock again. This time I hear faint movement from behind the door. To my surprise and relief it opens a crack, and half of his face appears. He won’t open the door enough for me to see his entire body, however. This isn’t good. But what the bloody hell do I expect?

“What is it, Simon?” His tone is so flat and chilly that I don’t recognize it as his voice at first. For a second I wonder if there’s another bloke in there with him. It was him, though; my Johnny. I know because I was the only chap he fooled around with. I was his first, and I’ll probably be his last.

He isn’t even calling me “Charlie” anymore. Christ, I fucked up bad this time.

“Can I talk with you inside, please?” I try to sound apologetic and polite. I don’t want him to hear the nervous tremble in my voice.

In return he gives me this hard, suspicious look and asks, “Why? We did plenty of talking yesterday. There’s nothing left to discuss, Simon.” Again with the “Simon” thing. He’s obviously doing this to make a point; to show me how much I hurt him…how things are different between us now. True, it’s what I wanted yesterday morning. But my opinion has changed, and the confusion which blocked my mind like a thick fog has cleared now. Everything is so obvious to me at this moment, and I just wish John would give me the fucking chance to explain. I know deep down though, that he doesn’t owe me a damn thing. He’s quite aware of this too. It’s in those expressive eyes of his.

“Please, John. All I ask is a few minutes to say what I want to say. Then, if you still feel the way you do now, I’ll leave. I’ll never come to you like this again.” I tell him, fully aware of how desperate I sound. My pride has officially taken a back seat now; I’m very close to getting on my bloody knees and begging. I guess this is what happens when you’re on the brink of losing the person who means the most to you, and it’s all because of you that they’re slipping away. I was such a bleedin’ twit.

He doesn’t bother giving me a verbal response. The door is opened wider for me to enter, and then he walks off into the main room leaving me in the hall. I take a moment to calm myself and gather more inner strength. Yes, even Simon le Bon has confidence issues at times. Hey, we all have to be human once in awhile.

The sound of the door shutting behind me is louder than I expected, and I jump a little at the noise. It’s so bloody quiet in here. I glance around the room, and discover that it’s vacant now. Assuming John went into bedroom I head in that direction, wondering what I’ll find when I get there. Hopefully not a fist flying at my face. It’ll be a bitch trying to cover up the bruise with make-up.

When I enter I find him sitting on the large bed, one hand on the duvet and the other holding a fag to his face. He takes a long drag, and then focuses his attention on me. “Well, what did you want to tell me?”

I almost miss the question, since I’m just realizing now that he’s only in a robe, and that long, luscious hair is damp with a few strands hanging in his eyes. It’s a gorgeous sight, and I need to take another moment to calm my libido.

Naturally he notices my staring, can see the outline of my arousal in my tight trousers. There’s a very unfriendly smirk on his face now. He’s enjoying my lust like a sadist. Johnny knows that I’m aware of the fact that I can’t make a move on him like I used to. Because things fucking changed. I really need to keep my big gob shut in the future.

“I thought you weren’t into blokes anymore. You wanted to be mates, professional music partners in this fucking band we’re in. You told me you couldn’t fuck me anymore. So why does it look like you want to right now?”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss, Johnny. I-

“Don’t call me that.” He cuts me off with a harsh tone. I’m starting to lose patience now, and I barely contain a sigh of frustration.

“Fine, John. I wanted to talk about what I said yesterday. I was very confused…I’ve been going through a lot lately. For a long time I’ve been trying to accept the fact that I fancy blokes as well as birds. Sometimes it wasn’t so easy to deal with, like yesterday. I thought maybe if I ended this thing between us, that my conscience would feel better,” I take a pause during my little speech to study his reaction. His expression hasn’t changed much. He’s still sitting there smoking that fag and giving me an emotionless look. I continue anyway. “But really, the only thing I’ve accomplished is tearing my heart to fucking shreds. I’ve realized how foolish it was to try to change myself, to deny myself of the only person in this world that I ever truly loved. Well, love. I love you, John.”

I walk toward him slowly, afraid of making any sudden movements for some reason. He continues to stare at me as if he’s in a trance, and in a way I feel like I’m caught up in it with him. I see his anger crumbling slightly in his eyes. I know that my next move will help the breakdown of his bitterness toward me.

A soft caress on that smooth cheek and I see his eyes almost close. He’s just about to give in to me, I can sense it. I stroke the skin lovingly with my thumb in a calming gesture, and study those pretty features. “Please, baby. Please forgot the stupid words I said yesterday and forgive me. Take me back. I need you so much it fucking hurts.”

To my surprise however, he shoots me a glare and pushes my hand away. Normally he’s such a sucker for the sentimental.

“What you said to me yesterday really fucking hurt, Simon. Then you come in here singing a new song, and I’m supposed to take you back just like that? Because your prick hurts? Well, fuck you.”

Before he can take another drag on that bloody fag, I grab the thing from his hand, and storm over to the bedside table to put it out. How dare he sit there and act like he’s never been through the same shit as me? It took almost two months of pursuing John for him to finally except the fact that he fancied me, just as much as I did him. I throw that right back at him as I grind the fag into the glass tray.

He’s silent now; most likely because he knows I’m right. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes are already on me. “That’s not the same. Yeah, I felt those feelings before, but I never hurt you with them. I never used them as an excuse to leave you.” No more anger now; only soft-spoken sadness and hurt. Shit. I didn’t see it that way until now.

I sit down beside him, and continue stroking his face like I did before. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my stupidity. And it wasn’t an excuse; it’s what I believed I needed to do at the time. But I’ve had a good few hours to think it over, and I know now that I was wrong. It was a mistake, John. A mistake I swear I’ll never make again.” I say with fullest sincerity. He gazes into my eyes for a long moment, and then a slow smile spreads across his face. It’s like watching a glorious sunrise, and on the inside I’m in full awe.

“Call me Johnny.” He murmurs, before closing the short distance between us. When his lips touch mine I can’t hold myself back; I grab his face with both hands, and attack those full lips with all the passion that I have for him. His deep moan is captured in my mouth, and I swallow it with greed.

When I feel his hands tugging at my shirt, I can’t help but grin into our kiss. Johnny-love has just read my mind.

I steal a few more kisses, before I reluctantly pull away to remove my clothes. He stands as well, that mischievous smirk on his face that I adore.

“Hold on, love. I want to help.” Oh, yeah. I was hoping I’d get to hear that sex on honey tone again.

“You better hurry, though. I’m so fucking randy right now I’m about to say, ‘Fuck with the clothes’ and throw you down on that bed. Then I’d take my cock out of my trousers, open your legs, and just slam myself into that tight, hot hole.”

His face is flushed now, and the fire that smolders behind those lovely eyes is blazing. It’s my turn to smirk. “Would you like that, baby?”

“Oh yeah, Charlie. Do it. Do it to me right now.” He moans. Before I have a chance to do or say anything else, he grabs me and throws me on the bed. The action makes my cock grow even harder. I love it when Johnny gets aggressive. Most people have no idea why I have such a thing for tigers. They don’t know it’s because I’ve always associated him with the beasts.

“Take it out. I want to ride you.” He orders me while removing his satin robe. Bloody hell, I could come in my trousers from those words alone.

I do as I’m told; scoot up on the bed a little. Then I lie back and wait for the show to start. I don’t have to wait for long. Within seconds he’s produced a tube of lubricant. I almost laugh at his eagerness.

He crawls on top of my body, and part of me wishes that I didn’t have the leather trousers on; I want to feel his warm flesh against mine. Instead, I settle for running my hands up his lean, delectable thighs (which I’ve nibbled on more than once). When I get to his little round bottom, I give it a firm squeeze. A small gasp escapes his throat, and he rubs his hard cock against mine, making the both of us moan.

Johnny drops the lube on my chest and begs so sweetly, “Prepare me, Charlie. Please, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

I give him what he wants. I thrust my fingers in and out of that wonderful hole, not too slow but not too quick. I get so lost in watching him fuck himself on my fingers, that I practically miss the clear fluid streaming from his swollen prick. He’s definitely not coming yet. Johnny may be able to boss me around in the bedroom, but there’s one of my rules that he always has to follow; he never comes unless my cock is deep inside his ass. Unless it’s already been up his ass, and I’m giving him a blow. Then it’s a different story.

He doesn’t like the absence of my fingers, and gives me a glare in frustration. “I was so fucking close.” I give him a smack on the bum and he jumps.

“You know very well you can’t come unless I’m inside. Naughty Johnny.”

“I really wish you’d change that bloody rule.”

I laugh and give his ass another smack, this one more playful. “Well, are you going to ride me or what?” The words ignite his lust again, and he’s back to being my feral tiger.

He doesn’t say a thing; just grabs the lube and starts slicking up my prick with it. The whole time his eyes are locked with mine, and he’s got a determined look on his face. And Christ, the way he’s squeezing and pulling at me, I might not last. I try to tear his hands away, but they’ve got an iron grip on me.

“Johnny…” I warn, giving him a stern glance. He just smiles and keeps going. “What, love?” His innocent act is terrible.

“Let go of my cock.”

He still ignores me, and continues to wank me closer and closer to completion. I know this is about the fingering earlier, especially with that wicked grin that’s on his pretty face now. He could be such a brat sometimes. So I rest my hands on his hips, grip them tightly and tell him, “If you don’t stop it right now, I’m going to smack your pale little bottom until it turns cherry red!”

He laughs at that and shakes his head. “Cherry red? What is with you and cherries anyway?”

“It’s your fault, wearing that bright red lipstick all the time. You know I have a thing for your lips.”

“I do know. It’s the reason why I wore it.”

I laugh and pull him down for a kiss. “Then why did you stop wearing it?”

“Because my style changed. Of course.” He says in a tone that implies I’m daft for asking. At some point during our short chat he released his hold on my cock, and switched to leisurely rubbing his length along mine. Which reminds me… “Are you going to ride me? Or do I need to look elsewhere?”

“You look elsewhere, and I’ll rip your fucking prick off so you can’t fuck anyone.” He growls. Then he grips my cock, positions himself, and impales himself on me in one swift movement.

Fuck! Tight, wet heat gripping the whole length me, and the spasms from his inner muscles add to the wonderful sensations on my cock. I distantly hear myself groan as I arch into him.

I’m so lost in the pleasure that I forget about Johnny for a moment. I look up at him with concern and ask if he’s all right. He’s never taken my cock all at once like this, and I know he must be in a bit of pain.

His body is trembling slightly, and his lower lip is getting quite a chewing. “Are you all right, baby?” I ask again. I place my hands on his legs, gently rubbing them. This time he nods and says in a low, strained voice, “Give me a minute, though.”

I nod back, and throw him a smile. “Come here.”

I pull him close to me and capture that gorgeous mouth again, my tongue coming out to sooth the sore lip he was biting. The urge to start thrusting is strong and I try my best not to begin before he’s ready.

After awhile he breaks away from our snogging and declares, “I’m ready now.” The large wet spot on my shirt is also a big hint. “I love it when you get so wet for me, baby.” I breathe into his ear with a jerk of my hips. He throws his head back, whimpering loudly. I moan just at the sight of him in passion; dark hair spilling over his shoulders, smooth chest starting to glisten with perspiration, mouth opening and closing with heavy pants. Though I can’t see his eyes, I know they’re squeezed shut. He’s so beautiful like this, like a work of art that takes your breath away every time you look at it. I should get my head checked, thinking for even a second that I could leave him, and deny myself of this.

He’s moving now, sliding up and down on my prick at a slow pace. I want to grab those narrow hips and take control, but when Johnny’s on top I usually let him control things. Its part of the thrill he gets from being on top; dictating our pace and torturing me while he’s at it. He’s the definition of a tease if I ever saw one.

Soon, a lot sooner than I expected, he’s quickening his movements, taking me harder and faster. Bloody hell…now it’s my turn to groan and throw my head back. “Oh yeah…fuck…that’s so good Johnny…keep going just like that…” I’m at the point already where I’m talking in broken sentences, and I can just feel his satisfaction.

“Are you going to… do this to me… again?” He pants, leaning over me now for more leverage. “Are you going to try… and tell yourself…that you don’t want me…in the future?”

I shake my head vehemently at that. “No…no, love. Never again. I promise.”

“You better not.”

We kiss, teeth nipping at each other’s swollen lips, my hips coming up hard to meet Johnny’s thrusts. I’m spiraling rapidly toward paradise. I wrap my arms tightly around his body and roll us over, so I’m on top now. I hold him close to me as I pound his sweet hole, the new position causing my cock to rub his prostate with every glide. He’s crying out now with each thrust, we’re both so close I can fucking taste it. I thrust once, twice, and then bite his neck as I spill inside of him.

“Fuck, Charlie!” He screams as his release shortly follows. The spasms of his muscles cause extra pleasure to shoot through my sensitive prick, and I moan from the intensity of it all.

While he recovers, I lick the minor wound I made on his neck. I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t have left such an obvious mark on him, but make-up can easily cover up the love-bite I made. Besides, it excites something inside of me to see a blatant sign of my ownership on his body.

“Did you really mean it?” He asks when his trembling calms. I move so I can see his face and answer, “Yes, I do John. I swear to you that I’ll never be that thickheaded again. I love and need you far too much.”

“You can be a bit thicky sometimes. But I love you anyway.”

Whenever he smiles I can’t help but grin like a silly git. Which is what I’m doing right now. “That’s very good to know.”

“I guess goodbye isn’t always forever, huh?”

“No, Johnny,” I laugh. “Thank God it’s not.”

The End.
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