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Falling in love is so uncool	By : fundamellie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pet Shop Boys Views: 1101 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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We walked over to his car. He assured me he knew his way around town as he had spent the last couple of months here. He also told me that nobody would miss him on the party as he had finished his DJ set and Chris had taken over to spin some – how had Tom put it? – unavoidable old-school tunes. His choice of words made me chuckle and I nodded in agreement. Almost ten years after its original release “Passion” wasn’t so special anymore. At least not to my ears.
I could not help it but as I sat there in the car next to him, watching as he spun the wheel and adjusted the gears I just had to ask him about the fan bit. I simply had to know why he was really here with me, why we were both stuck in this absurd situation together.
“Chris told me you are a fan?” I asked nonchalantly. I tried to sound indifferent whereas inwardly I held my breath for his answer.
“Did he say that?” Tom asked, sounding a bit surprised. “Well, yeah,” he laughed.
“Guess you could say I am, in a very vague sort of way.”
I arched an eyebrow and threw him an inquiring glace.
“I’m not a member of your fan club,” he went on and I wondered how he managed to sound equally sincere and sarcastic.
“When I first heard ‘West end Girls’ I thought it was so cool. It wasn’t Disco, it wasn’t Rap, it was so damn un-American and I just thought that was so cool.”
He laughed again. “Guess I was easy to impress back then. No, but I loved the sound. Loved the style, loved the vocals. That it was so polished and British and different.
And then I saw the video and loved it even more. Your face-expressions and that coat of yours… I bought the album. I still have the cassette by the way. I just loved it for all of those little electronic noises and the fact that these were beautiful little songs. I loved the stories they told. I thought Europe was this totally cool, cultured place and I envied the hell out of you because you owned that bloody coat!”
He grinned and I smiled as well. At least he thought we had written beautiful little songs.
Tom turned towards me and shook his head in mock puzzlement.
“I mean, the second album was okay but the one now? Strings and Johnny Marr and all that shit? Too mellow for my taste. But then again, I’m in for the beat, not for the melody, so what you are doing now, is not really…”
“…not really your cup of tea,” I finished for him, still smiling.
“Cup of tea?” he echoed, sounding amused. “Do you say that in England?”
When I nodded, he shook his head again and muttered something like: “All mad, those Brits!”
What Tom had said had calmed me down considerably. I must admit that I had found the vague thought that he might have a Smash Hits poster of us not smiling above his bed more than just slightly unnerving.
I decided to join the game he had started earlier and to beat him at it with his own weapons.
“There’s nothing like an honest criticism. In fact I think it’s quite a turn on!” I quoted him, trying hard to look as innocent as possible. His only response was placing his hand on my knee. The hand moved upwards painfully slowly: It was just the ghost of a touch but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.
By the time we had finally reached the hotel I was terribly nervous once again. Nervous and even more turned on. I stopped briefly at the reception to collect my key and left instructions not to be disturbed until the wake up call. The night porter nodded and gave me a small knowing smile. I almost blushed again and felt so utterly ridiculous. The idea of strangers knowing details from my private life made me extremely uncomfortable.
I tried to shake that feeling as I walked back to Tom who had been waiting in front of the elevators. He stood there surrounded by marble and steel and glittering mirrors and all the other splendour and looked totally unfazed. Totally relaxed and self-assured. For a split-second I felt a stab of anger and jealousy. I almost resented him for being all of those things that I wasn’t no matter that the veneer suggested otherwise.
But as I walked on to close the distance between us he grinned at me and let his gaze slowly wander up and down my body. I felt all hot and electric; there was no room for whatever irrational resentment I had felt only a heartbeat earlier. The doors to the elevator slid open just as I stepped next to Tom.
“Which floor?” he asked, still fixing me with his gaze, still grinning.
“Seventh,” I replied automatically. My mouth had gone dry and I could feel the pulse hammering in the vein in my throat.
We both stepped inside of the cabin; Tom pressed the button and faced me. I starred back at him, at a loss for words. He was leaning closer, about to kiss me when the lift stopped and the doors slid open once again. An elderly black lady stepped inside, dressed up to the nines in ruby velvet and pearls. She cast a disapproving look at both of us over the rim of her glasses. We both took a step backwards to make enough room for her and Tom gripped my shoulder and turned his back towards the woman, trying hard to hide his laughter with faked coughs. Apparently he thought my horrified face-expression was hilariously funny. When he had recovered enough to form coherent sentences, he whispered into my ear:
“Do you think she would care to watch? Would be a show she could tell her grand-children about.”
For some unfathomable reason that remark of his reduced me to childish giggles. Well, maybe I was more drunk than I had thought I was after all.
When the doors finally slid open on the seventh floor, we rushed past the indignant looking lady, still giggling. It was really quite bizarre. I hurried down the corridor to my hotel room but the nerves were back as it took me several tries to finally unlock the door. I was glad when it fell shut behind Tom and me. I did not care too much for anymore witnesses. I switched the lights on and lead the way into the living room area. Tom seemed to be impressed by the surroundings; he took it all in with almost childlike wonder. The place really was quite grand, big enough to fit a medium-sized flat in.
In truth it contained everything that you might need in a flat.
A living room with sitting area and state of the art TV and video recorder, a writing desk and a huge sofa. A bedroom with an extremely big cupboard, bedside tables and a king-sized bed. A bathroom with a shower and a sunken bathtub. All in this slightly subdued modern splendour that uses cream colours for the carpets and wallpaper and warm, earthy shades for the curtains and decoration. Brass lamps and warm light as well as some dark wood and plenty of space. No kitchen of course but this was substituted here by the piano I had requested.
I watched Tom walk the rooms aimlessly for a moment then busied myself with drawing curtains everywhere. This time it was Tom watching me walking back and forth through the suite, avoiding his glances. I was more nervous now than ever. What the hell was I supposed to do or say? How did one proceed in such a situation? Should I casually point out the way to the bedroom or possibly just get out of my clothes? Both options seemed so utterly silly. I remember thinking that I must be the most useless chat up ever.
I was halfway across the living room again, my supposed next stop the mini bar, when I heard footsteps behind me. Tom had caught up with me, chuckling softly as he turned me around to face him.
“Easy, mate, just easy. I won’t bite you. Well, unless you want me to, of course.”
He grinned that cheeky grin again and I saw his intense dark grey stare fix on me and everything else ceased to matter.
“Wait right here,” I managed to say before I was completely lost in his eyes.
“Wait right here, I just have to go to the bathroom. My contact lenses are killing me.”
“Sure,” he replied simply and that single word sounded so god-damn self-assured that it made me envy him once more. I left him standing in the middle of the room and closed the bathroom door behind me. I used the toilet and then, after washing my hands fumbled with my lenses for quite a while. I stared at my slightly blurred reflection for a moment. It could not be me who was so pale and drunk and tired and nervous and flushed and expectant. No, not me.
I took a deep breath before I left the room and went next door. Tom had been waiting for me in front of the bathroom door and as soon as it opened I found myself pushed back. He was kissing me even before my back hit the wall. It was a greedy kiss, fierce and rough and deep. I put up no resistance and joined the dance of his tongue only too gladly. I felt his fingers unbuttoning my shirt, sliding it over my shoulders and heard him growling softly in frustration as he realized that I still wore a T-shirt. Still he did not break the kiss and I guess I would not have let him. He pushed up my T-shirt and slid his hands underneath. I moaned helplessly as he touched my skin. I was so hyper-sensitive at that moment that every little touch of his, every little move of his body closer to mine, every flick of his tongue in my mouth send shivers down my spine. My body felt electric and the sparks he caused running through my nervous system directly short-circuited any rational thinking. I was on auto pilot, out of control. Simply wanting, feeling, needing. Him.
His exploration of my chest was brief but very enticing. Hurried touches and demanding stokes. Teasing twisting and rubbing of my nipples. He pressed his body heavily against mine; a promise of more intimate things. His hips thrust against mine, slowly, experimentally. I remember thinking that he seemed to be so very sure of what he was doing whereas I was merely blindly stumbling on, following his lead. Of course this made him only more desirable in my mind. My hands were stroking restless circles on his back and shoulders; sometimes hanging on for dear life, sometimes desperately pulling him closer still. Somehow he managed to unzip my trousers and without much further ado pushed my underpants down far enough to release my erection from its restraints.
He did the same to himself, still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands wrapped itself around my twitching hard on and began slowly pumping it. I tried to manoeuvre my hands between our bodies. I wanted to touch him, to feel his dick, to stroke his erection but he motioned my hands away impatiently. I did not fight him then and maybe that was meant as a premonition of things to come. I had not noticed that he was pumping himself until he broke the kiss and I heard him panting into my ear. He changed positions and while doing so, looked me in the eyes with that fierceness that made me feel a little afraid of him despite of all the desire pulsing trough me.
Tom grinned and half leaned against the wall. His thigh pressed against mine and then he moved his hips until our erections were brushing against each other. His grin widened when I moaned quite loudly because of that. He used both his hands to encircle both our dicks simultaneously. Tom was stroking us both and as I did not know what else to do I surrendered. My hands were pressed flat against the wallpaper, my head was lolling from one side to the other, my eyes squeezed shut and I was moaning and babbling incoherent things. He was only breathing hard and occasionally muttering curses under his breath. His stroking and pumping got faster and faster until I knew that I was not going to last much longer. I grit my teeth but I was fighting a lost battle. I came while he was still stroking us. I was trembling and my knees were weak and I felt that there was not nearly enough air in my lungs. My head was spinning and I felt a little panicky, disorientated but then he came as well and his cum mixed with mine and I could feel it dropping down my belly and he was moaning. Then it was over. When I opened my eyes again Tom was still panting and grinning once more. He wiped his hand on his jeans and stepped back.
“I go and clean myself up,” he informed me in a raw voice. I only nodded, unable to form words. I watched him enter the bathroom and listened to the noises from within.
Water running, the toilet being flushed but mostly silence. I did not know what to think, what to feel. Oh, the sex had been great, I still felt the after-shock; the little tremors running through my body but at the same time I felt so tremendously stupid. So, that had been it. A bit of kissing, a quick jerking off and Tom was leaving again. I could have cried out of pure frustration. This was not what I had hoped for. Not that I really knew what I had hoped for in the first place.
I forced myself to take a few deep breaths. I had to clam down. If that was how one played the game then it had to be that way. I would put on a brave face and act as if it did not bother me to see him leave so soon. Carefully I pushed myself off the wall, not quite trusting my legs for support. Impatiently I removed my shirt and cleaned off the mess from my belly. Then I zipped up and tried to look half way presentable. Out of habit I folded up my crumbled shirt and then put it on the desk to be packed up later.
I removed my shoes and put them in front of the hotel door for cleaning. I was still nervous, still feeling restless and now also a bit disappointed. And much too sober. I was wracking my brain for something I could say to him when he came out of the bathroom. I had no clue. I poured myself a drink from the mini bar when I heard the bathroom door open and close in the span of a heartbeat. I pretended not to have noticed him entering the room, resisting the urge to turn around and search his face for some sign.
What had I hoped to find there anyway? The same kind of longing I felt? The flicker of something… something else, something more in his eyes maybe? Some sign that he understood, that he cared at all?
But I did not turn and the silence deepened around us for a long moment. He moved closer to me but I hardly heard him making a sound.
Then he spoke. “Neil,” he said. Just that one word but his voice sounded so soft that I thought that it might be alright. He said my name again in this almost intimate way and touched my neck slightly.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” He asked but there was no challenge in his words this time, only amusement.
I put my glass down and turned around. “Getting a drink,” I began. “Why? Would you like…?” I had meant to ask him if he cared for a gin and tonic as well but when my eyes fell on him all the words died on my lips. This impossible boy had undressed in the bathroom and now stood there in front of me totally naked. Still he managed to look totally at ease. I must have looked thoroughly perplexed because he started laughing.
“What’s up with you, man?” he teased. “Too tired for another round?”
I could not take my eyes off him and only shook my head. He was gorgeous. Lean body, almost skinny with long strong legs and arms covered in dark blond hair. Flat belly, shaved chest and a cut dick surrounded by darker pubic hair. And then those big, grey eyes and the full, red lips. He was gorgeous. No, he was more than gorgeous. He was perfect!
Tom had stopped laughing and only watched me studying him. He seemed to like it, having my full attention and admiration. Maybe that was vanity but I did not mind. With a body and face like that I would be vain as well.
“No,” I finally managed to say. “I’m not tired.”
“Good!” He beamed and the challenge was back in his grin, in the way he looked at me, head slightly tilted.
“Get out of your clothes then,” he ordered and I found myself doing his biding without protest. I pulled my T-shirt over my head and threw it to the floor. I looked at him but I could not read his expression. He simply grinned and made an impatient motion with his hand. “Go on!”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes briefly. God, what was I doing?
I got out of my jeans and then balanced on each foot to take off my socks. For some reason that made him chuckle. He looked me over and nodded as if satisfied with something. I was glad that he did not comment on my half naked body. I might be a lot of things but I was never convinced I was good-looking. He came over and kissed me again. This time his kiss was slow, almost lazy. Teasing, searching. A tension I had not realized had been building up within me, melted away and it was just him and me again. While we kissed, Tom pushed my boxers down and let them fall to the floor. He wiggled his body a little so that our legs were entwined, our chests pressed against each other, our half hard dicks trapped between our bodies. I was breathless in no time and when I broke the kiss I looked at him and then grinned myself. I dropped down to my knees and ran my hands up and own the length of his legs a couple of times. Tom parted them a little wider and stood there looking down on me. Something flashed in his eyes and this time I thought it was desire. I touched the soft skin on the inside of his thighs, the slightly damp pubic hair and then placed my hands firmly on his hips. I licked the tip of his dick and found the lack of foreskin quite intriguing. I repeated my movement when I felt him shiver slightly and then sucked the tip into my mouth. At first I played around with his glans; licking it, sucking on it playfully but soon I felt him move his hips to push himself deeper into my mouth. I forced myself to relax the muscles at the back of my throat and slowly took him in deeper and deeper. Inch by inch I sucked it in and licked its length until I had managed to swallow him almost completely. Then I began the serious sucking; moving my head back and forth, taking him in and almost letting him go.
I heard him moan while he grew rock hard in my mouth. I felt him shudder and it felt good to know that I could make him feel that way after he had undone me countless times that night. I ignored the fact that my own erection had come back to full life, that I wanted him to touch me again, that I desperately wanted to know what else he might do to me. Instead I concentrated on my task of pleasuring him with my tongue and mouth.
I wanted him to not want me to stop. I wanted him to want me.
After a while he gripped my shoulders, trying to stop me from continuing this blow job.
“Neil,” he whispered then repeated with more force. “Neil. Stop. Stop now. Come on!”
Again I followed his order without thinking but some of my disappointment must have shown on my face when I looked up at him because Tom urged me to get up and as soon as I was standing next to him, whispered into my ear:
“Let’s move it to the bedroom. I can’t feel enough of you like that.”
I nodded and the next thing I remember is landing on the bed face down with him following close behind. His mouth was everywhere as were his hands. He mapped out my body with his own and I remember thinking that, yes, this had been what I had been hoping for. I remember how his skin felt underneath my palms. Tender and wet with sweat and a little coarse where it was covered with hair. Smooth on his chest with the tiniest hint of stubble. Itchy on his cheek and chin. He would need a shave badly in the morning. His lips were soft and swollen from all that kissing and he was trailing wet paths all over me with his tongue.
Then he knelt between my legs and was massaging my bum. My eyes snapped open and my whole body tensed when I felt him trying to slip a finger into me. I tried to push myself up but he ran a hand soothingly over my back.
“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I’ll be careful.”
Was there concern in his voice or was he simply too turned on to give anything else much of a thought? I did not know but I was too busy trying not to panic.
I wanted him, yes, but did I want this? Was I in any position to really know? I had never done this before. Or rather, I had let nobody do this to me before. Oh Christ, it was a bit late for explanations now. I tried to think it through. Did I want him to know that he had chatted up somebody who, at the age of 37 was practically still a virgin? Whose entire experience with gay sex came down to the occasional blow job and some fumbling around?
No, that thought made me panic even more than his hands urging my legs further apart and his tongue licking around the tight ring of muscles. I did not want him to think I was uptight and soft and a coward. I did not want him to laugh at me. I did not want his scorn. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breath steady. I tried not to think. Instead I concentrated on his hand stroking my back, on his tongue still licking me and the way his erection was pressed against my thigh. I let him prepare me; stick one, then two, then finally three fingers slick with spit into me. Let him push and probe and scissor and urging me to relax further. I had not been ready for the sensation that rushed through me when he hit my prostate. It felt so good that I almost forgot my apprehensions.
Then he withdrew his fingers and I tensed again, knowing what was about to come next. Didn’t they always say that it hurts the first time? Well, maybe it would but I was not a kid anymore, it could not be so bad. At least that was what I tried to make myself believe. I breathed in deeply once more and felt the tip of his hard erection press against my entrance. He pushed and I bit down on my teeth as hard as I could to stop me from crying out. It hurt worse that I had anticipated. It felt like I was slowly torn in two.
I did not like the sensation of being stretched and gradually filled up as his dick unhurriedly pushed in deeper and deeper. All the muscles in my body felt like they had gone tense and rigid. I was silently sobbing, burying my face in the pillows to muffle the sounds I might make. When he had managed to bury himself fully in me, Tom rested for a moment. He wrapped an arm around my chest and gently pulled me up so that my weight was now resting on my knees and elbows. Then he moved again and the pain increased. He moved in and almost out experimentally, trying to find the right position. His hand wandered from my chest to my dick and he started stroking me again.
I realized that despite of all the hurt and humiliation I was feeling I was still quite hard.
I was horrified but still glad that he gave me something else to focus on. His caresses felt good and were more than welcome. He began to move faster, fucking me with more ease now. He hit that spot again and this time the pleasure it generated made me forget about the pain. Whether I blanked it out or whether it really disappeared I still do not know. He was pushing in more and more urgently, pumping me fast and hard at the same time and I heard somebody moan. At first I thought that it was Tom but then I realized that it was me. Sensations were running riot through me: The way his dick moved inside of me. The way his testicles slapped against my bum every time he moved.
The way his grip tightened around my erection and the fact that his fingernails dug into the flesh on my hip on which he had a tight grip. I was covered in sweat and close to passing out. My arms were trembling badly and I could hardly support my weight anymore. Just when I thought I could not take his ever increasing rhythm anymore, he stopped in mid-motion, suddenly tense like a bow. He stopped stroking me and instead gripped my hips with both his hands, so hard that he left bruises. He felt him shaking and then his hot sperm shot out and spilled into me. His hips moved erratically and then he was still. He was laying half on top of me and his face, which was resting on my back, was glowing. He was panting, gasping for air and he was mumbling things I could not understand. Somehow he managed to get back into his old position, even though I could feel him going limb inside of me, which was quite an odd sensation. He fondled me again and after only a few strokes I was there as well.
Tom slipped out of me and rolled me over and was sucking my nipples, licking the side of my throat and this time I was screaming and I came hard. He did not stop pumping me until I was sobbing again, unable to breathe or move or think. Everything was spinning and then all was black. I do not know for long I passed out but I remember hearing him laugh softly. I blinked and managed to open my eyes. He was lying next to me on his side, propped up on one elbow. He watched while I tried to gather my senses. He wiped my face with the back of his hand several times but did not say anything about it.
Then he gave me one of his heart-stopping, intense looks and kissed me tenderly on the lips. He placed his head on my chest and closed his eyes. I looked down at him, stunned, moved and smiled softly to myself. I was not alone, my bed was not empty and the new day had to wait a little while longer. I caressed his neck and enjoyed the way his short cut hair tickled my palm. Then I must have fallen asleep.
I awoke briefly once, shivering because our bodies had cooled down considerably. I felt sticky and clammy and a bit cold but Tom was still sleeping next to me. His back was turned towards me, my arm still wrapped around his shoulders. I grinned sleepily and snuggled closer to him, coving the length of his body with mine and went back to sleep.
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Falling in love is so uncool