Devin's Boys was originally written as part of a small-town collection centered around a Tall Ship festival in a little Maine town. When I sat down to write it, I kept coming back to this idea of a retired rocker who'd pretty much returned to his roots by moving back to the small town in Maine he'd grown up in. He does not even have the opportunity to unpack before a young musician shows up on his doorstep asking for help. Little does he know that the person who sent him is a longtime friend and former roadie. As Devin learns more about what is going on in this young musician's life, he finds himself getting more involved, until he moves from mentoring to picking up his drumsticks and playing with them, and in the process learning all about the other ways the four of them could fit together.
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Coming home was supposed to be the end of something, until Mikal barreled into his life….and he wasn’t alone.
For Devin McKay, music has been his lover, his drug, and his best friend for as long as he can remember, but there was always something he denied himself while he pursued it. Now that his band has broken up and he’s returned to his hometown of Stoney Brook, he’s settled into a new, somewhat drunken routine, while he tries to get accustomed to this new phase in his life. The last thing he expected was an old friend to send a troubled young musician his way.
Mikal needs help, or rather, his best friend, Moon, needs help getting over the blinding bouts of stage fright that have been plaguing him for the last year. He’ll do anything to get to the root of Moon’s issues, even follow along with the unorthodox methods Devin prescribes for them. After all, Devin was a success in the industry, while Mikal and Moon have been struggling to get a foot in the door.
They aren’t the only ones struggling. Moon’s longtime friend with benefits, Derrick, spends most days rudderless and pretending to be okay. There are things he needs that Moon tries desperately to give him, but Moon has needs too. All their pieces have jagged edges, but with a little twisting and turning, and a lot of songs, they might discover a way they can all fit.
Someone was licking his balls, someone else was sucking him, the
entire front of his boxers was wet and he couldn’t give a damn. One of them
hummed the opening bars of the last song they’d been working on and Devin lost
it, growling, cursing, and babbling unintelligibly as he came, the moment made
that much hotter by the fact that one of them sucked him through it, swallowing
every drop.
He was still
panting and trying to figure out which way was up when he cracked his eyes open
to see Mikal and Moon making out, a smidge of cum slowly sliding down the side
of Mikal’s face.
“Fuck…” Derrick
breathed, mouth half hanging open.
Words were
tumbling around in his mind, but none of them solid, most popped like bubbles
on a summer breeze. Blinking, Devin watched Moon lick the cum off Mikal’s face,
then crawl over to where Derrick sat, going up on his knees to kiss him,
sharing a taste of Devin with him too. Somehow, he’d lost complete control of
the meal and that was fuckin’ fine with him.
Moon was the first
to resume his seat, a shit-eating grin on his face as he picked up what
remained of his lobster roll. “See, now wasn’t that better than snow?”
“Was better than
better than sex cake,” Devin remarked as he reached for his drink.
“Try saying that
five times fast,” Mikal quipped.
“Better than
better than sex cake, better than better than sex cake, better than….” Moon
began.
“Okay, okay, damn,
you truly have a talented tongue, ya know that?” Mikal grumbled.
“If there is any
doubt in his mind, he can feel free to practice whenever he wants,” Devin
muttered before downing the last of the liquid in his glass.
Instead of
acknowledging them, Moon sing-songed the words again, only this time it sounded
like he was playing with a rhythm. The fingers of one hand were tapping on the
table, there was a faraway look in his eyes, and as Devin watched, Moon missed
his mouth and wound up with mayonnaise smeared across his nose from his lobster
roll.
He looked so
surprised when it happened, all he could do was blink. Derrick passed him a paper
towel, Mikal giggling while Moon wiped it away.
“Don’t stop
playing with that,” Devin said, as he picked up what was left of his sandwich. In
his head though, he was playing with varying rhythms, hard on each syllable, a
little extra slap at the end.
Duda da duda da du
da Duda da duda da du da
His hands itched
for his drumsticks, shoulda known his little declaration about no work stuff at
the table was gonna come back and bite him on the ass.
So soft and sweet.
Better than better
than sex cake.
So wild and
willing.
Better than better
than sex cake.
Want you on your
knees.
Moon sang the
descriptors, but it was Derrick who filled in the repeated line, voice edged
with a growl. Not a damned thing country about it at all. His cadence played
out similarly to the drumline in his mind, leaving Devin with a bit of a
dilemma.
Take his boys to the music room and sort out the song, or take them to the bedroom, and sort out the best way to sate their very eager appetites.
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