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A snooty influencer made a rude comment to Theo while they were both in a VIP lounge at an airport, so Lysander defended him by taking the influencer down with brutal fake sympathy, sorry but this scene is hilarious XD

~~

Theo could only look on with horror as the pop star closed in on the influencer, engaging with him cheerfully with a bright, “Hi! I’ve seen you online, right? The makeup vlogger? Oh my gosh, I’m such a big fan.”

Caught mid-transit from bathroom to the other side of the lounge—maybe putting on a pretense of just happening to pass directly by the pop star—the influencer drew up short and only half-managed to smother a gape of shock. “Um…you are?” James said slowly, sounding nothing like the cocky youth he’d been in the bathroom. For just a second, the influencer passed his glance towards Theo then back to Lysander before breaking into a flustered smile. “I mean…that’s great! I’m such a fan, too!”

“Thanks. So, you’re flying out somewhere?” Lysander replied with feigned enthusiasm, the anxious pit in Theo’s stomach dropping lower the brighter his boyfriend’s artificial smile stretched. Before James could even answer, the singer’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of almost comical sympathy. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that whole ‘accidentally saying the n-word during a livestream’ thing. God, people are so easily offended these days, aren’t they?”

As readily as he’d smiled, James lost that smile, and Theo could have sworn the pale youth turned a shade even paler. The influencer began to stammer, “Oh, I never—”

“Bet you lost a bunch of sponsors over that too, huh? God, that really sucks, man. Are you doing okay, you know…financially? You haven’t needed to set up a FundMyAss or anything, right?” Lysander once more cut him off with brutal fervency, and James visibly panicked even more at that.

I gotta go upstairs to get ready for my livestream (every Friday 12-3pm pst at twitch.tv/cerigotgame ;p) but I just finished editing this "smut" scene where the cocky pop star in my boys love/gay romance webnovel Fractured Heart gets a surprise blow job from his shy EDM artist boyfriend right before a big music concert that's just too funny and sexy not to share first XD

(spoiler I guess, the boys in my boys love webnovel do, eventually, fall in love)

~~

Compared to the flurry of activity on the stage, the dressing room itself was quiet, almost serene. A large compartmentalized wardrobe topped by a makeup mirror was set at one side of it, a fold-out table littered with knickknacks and costume accessories next to it. A long blue couch stretched along the opposing wall, likely carted in as part of the stage set-up for the comfort of the headliner and whomever he invited into his dressing room. Currently, as soon as the tour escort had deposited him at the entrance to the room, that was only Theo.

“Hey babe,” Lysander greeted him casually, calmly, once the door had clicked shut and Theo hovered with his back to it, taking in his boyfriend’s utterly tranquil appearance. The singer was indeed eating dinner, taking a few bites of grilled chicken and rice from the plate in his lap when he wasn’t sipping from the half-drunk bottle of sports drink on the small table near his side. “Sorry it’s been chaotic, but that’s how it goes, you know. Sit down. Here, I asked them to bring you a plate.”

Forcing himself to trudge forward, Theo sat at the far side of the couch with space for a third person between them, privately marveling how the superstar could look so damn relaxed at a time such as this. When Lysander handed a second plate laden with food over towards him, Theo accepted it, but didn’t take a bite. Instead, he glanced over his boyfriend, took in the fact that he hadn’t even changed from the clothes he’d worn on the plane yet, then asked, “How the hell d’you do it? N-not even look a little bit nervous?”

“Well, why should I be?” Teeth flashed in a bright smile between bites, long legs folded at the ankle, angled so that he could casually brush his feet against Theo’s own legs where he was sitting perched like a frightened rabbit on the edge of fleeing to safety. “I trust my team to have everything set up properly. And we’ve done hundreds of hours of rehearsals; I could do the choreography in my sleep. With the only exception of an act of God, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You should know that.” He winked at Theo, smug bastard. “You’ve run plenty of flawless shows at Halo, have you not?”

“Yeah, b-but none of them were a t-tenth as big as this one,” Theo almost hissed in response, irritation smothering some of his fear. “And none of them had p-pyrotechnics, for chrissakes.” Deciding that Lysander was being annoying enough to warrant a scolding, Theo set his plate aside on the other small table, then, watching his boyfriend’s eyes widen in excited surprise, he shifted quickly across that small space between them. Reaching forward, he hooked one finger underneath his lover’s collar and gave it a slight but severe tug. “Just don’t forget, even as a-all those fans are crying and screaming your name, that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Lysander agreed breathily, gleefully, not acting submissive at all as he set his own plate aside to scoot closer still and take one of Theo’s hands then kissing the palm of it before placing it against his recently clean-shaven cheek. “Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous,” the pop star admitted with a soft chuckle. “Some of those flash pots are awfully near to where I’ll be performing. I might get a little too close to one and set my hair on fire mid-show.”

A startled snort burst out of Theo at the mental image, even though the burns that would have resulted from such a catastrophe would certainly be no laughing matter. “Better be c-careful then,” he teased, and it took all his willpower not to risk upsetting his boyfriend by adding in, We need to keep all that hair on your head for as long as possible. Instead he sighed, put his remaining hand on the other side of his lover’s cheek, pressed their foreheads together with another short sigh. “R-Really, though…don’t forget about me. P-Promise?”

“Theo,” the singer cooed, gently reproachful, like he was addressing a dog whining while his master stood with his hand on the front doorknob in preparation to depart. “Of course I won’t ‘forget about you’. You’re my everything, remember?”

“S-so you keep saying,” Theo mumbled, a little glumly. Despite the intensity of love in his boyfriend’s eyes, Theo flinched away from him, dropping his gaze to the thinly carpeted floor. It was certainly an unglamorous dressing room—probably used for meetings with stadium marketers and other suits whenever it wasn’t temporarily housing a world-famous superstar. “Um…h-how long until…until wardrobe, I guess?”

Given how little time he’d spent actually interacting with the performers beyond sound check while he’d worked at Halo, he didn’t know the specifics of what all the pop star still had to go through before he’d take the stage in front of all his fans. Obviously he still needed to put on his costume, probably meet with his core team, maybe form a group huddle—Theo had scarcely spoken to the other band members despite seeing them rushing around backstage occasionally, the same as he’d only in passing seen Lysander.

“Hmmm…” Lysander’s eyes flashed past him towards the clock hanging near the door, calculating before he said, “Twenty minutes about? You don’t have to leave once they come in here, you know.” Again, that infuriatingly self-assured smile. “Not like you haven’t seen me stark naked every night for the past three months.”

Theo blushed at that, but grinned anyway, the reminder of their so-far successful cohabitation granting him a spark of boldness that had him dropping his gaze to his boyfriend’s chest and lifting one hand to walk it two-fingered up from stomach to collarbone. There he paused to slide them under the slit between button and button hole to smooth across the length of that collarbone until Lysander drew in a sharp breath. “Twenty minutes, h-huh? Plenty of time."

"Time for what?" Lysander asked inquisitively, staying motionless in his reclined position except to follow with his eyes very closely as Theo’s hand started to creep down again, tracing the ridge of where the buttons united back down to his boyfriend’s stomach. Then his hand drifted a little lower, brushing against the convergence of his lover’s legs. “Theo,” the singer said, laughing uncertainly. “What are you doing? Someone could walk in at any moment.”

“No they w-won’t,” Theo replied confidently, already going to work undoing the bindings of the pop star’s slacks. “Not without knocking f-first. Besides, you said you’re nervous, right? I’m just helping you c-calm down.”

“This is hardly ‘calming’,” the pop star countered, but didn’t move to stop him as Theo pushed folds of fabric away, crept fingers between them, pulled out his lover’s cock.

He was being reckless and he knew it; warning knock or no, the wardrobe team was due imminently. Even if Lysander took thirty seconds before he actually gave them permission to enter, that would hardly be sufficient time to get his ardor under control if Theo couldn’t manage to make him climax first.

But recognizing that recklessness only made it all the more exciting; who else could do this kind of thing with Lysander? With all the paramours he’d had before Theo, had any of them been this daring, this self-assured in the knowledge that his lover would go along with pretty much anything Theo proposed?

“Theo,” Lysander breathed as Theo’s fingers curled around his cock and started pumping, the singer half-melting as he sank back into the corner of the couch. “Fuck, Theo, you’re going to kill me…”

“Y’know,” Theo replied conversationally, pumping a little faster, thrilled by how quickly his boyfriend was growing hard as a rock. “You keep accusing me of m-murder, and yet here you remain, alive.”

“So far,” the singer huffed in a laugh that turned into a moan as Theo joined his other hand in the effort, pulling sweetly, then with authority, wry smile spreading across his lips as he made his boyfriend’s hips buck.

The singer moaned even longer as Theo shifted back on the couch until he could lean over, the throat that would soon ring with vibrato opening into a sound that was desperate yet languorous.

Theo delighted in that sound, bending lower still, tongue flicking along the shallow slit where salty precum had already begun to leak out. He felt fingers trepidatiously filtering into his hair, somewhat loosened from the ponytail he’d put it up in hours ago while he’d anxiously been pacing around the edges of the backstage area trying to keep himself busy. That grip grew less tentative as Theo moved on into full-on sucking, the singer’s hips bucking again, straining into Theo’s grasp with a plaintive whimper.

They turned out to have only fifteen minutes of interlude, not twenty, as a knock suddenly sounded on the dressing room door and a female voice called out, “Mr. Delion? We’re here to do wardrobe. May we come in?”

All at once, Theo froze, the realization of the position he’d put the singer in flooding him through with dread. He was just about to yank himself backward and stuff his lover’s cock back into his pants when suddenly Lysander grabbed hold of him by the hair, pulled his mouth down again, and orgasmed, flooding Theo’s mouth with something that was not dread.

Then Lysander was laughing, breathless and exhilarated, tucking his spent cock beneath layers of cloth while Theo jerked backward and quickly swallowed the evidence of their activity. “Just a minute,” the pop star called out entirely too calmly, emerald eyes dancing as he fixed Theo with a tantalizing smile. “I was just finishing up something with Theo.”

“Bastard,” Theo mouthed at him in response, and the smug jerk only deepened his smile. Wishing he’d thought to bring breath mints, Theo reached past his boyfriend and grabbed the sports drink to wash down the taste and smell of cum instead.

“Love you too,” Lysander replied warmly, catching Theo’s chin between finger and thumb and giving him a fierce kiss. “Maybe you better head to the lounge now after all,” he mused after releasing hold of him again. “I’m afraid looking at you is going to give me another hard-on, and that would definitely be an inconvenience to the wardrobe team.”

Chapter 12 of the boys love/gay romance webnovel "Fractured Heart: the Tale of the Pop Star and the Pauper" is now available to read in advance at patreon.com/fracturedheart ! You can also read chapters 1-8 for FREE at that same link if you'd like to get a taste of the opposites-attract romance story of the cocky, world-famous pop star Lysander and our shy tsundere EDM producer Theo~

[First Page of Chapter Preview]

The next morning at around 11 AM, Ready-Now Electronics called to let him know that they’d taken apart and analyzed the mixer, discovered that several of the wires on the circuit board had come loose, and so for half of the inspection fee plus an additional $175 they’d replace and resolder the wires and that should fix the problem. Theo agreed to the charge, intending to pay the extra fee with the money he would have spent on groceries had Lysander not snuck ahead of him to pay for them instead.

He didn’t dare ask Lysander for another ride to pick it up, of course; not after their tense parting when Theo had so coldly rejected Lysander’s attempt to know what was bothering him. Yes, maybe Lysander was a jerk for having acted so presumptuous about it, but Theo could have been nicer in his refusal to answer, too.

Later in the evening after Lysander had left, Theo had sent over the sample of their collaboration such as it was. Lysander had emailed him back the next morning, perfunctorily thanking him for his work on the project and promising to review it and provide feedback when he was back from flying out to business meetings in New York until Wednesday. It was all quite professional and dispassionate—properly spelled and everything, which wasn’t as unusual over email, but still stuck out to Theo.

 Lysander didn’t send any texts or DMs in addition to the email, and Theo didn’t know what he would have said if he’d sent one first. So he’d resolved to leave Lysander alone until that Thursday and then, if the singer still hadn’t reached out, maybe Theo would contact him. Possibly apologize for speaking so harshly to him, if Theo could summon the courage for such an entreaty for forgiveness.

So he headed to the repair place by bus, glad it was merely about a 40 minute trip with only two transfers. He had a shift at Halo that night, so he hadn’t bothered to dress up beyond the basics, since he’d be spending the evening in his work uniform anyway. As he stepped off the bus and entered the modest outdoor shopping mall where the repair shop was, he noticed a pot shop two doors down from it. On a whim he burned through another chunk of the unspent grocery money loading up on illicit substances (well, not technically illicit anymore since California had finally legalized marijuana), shoving the contents into his backpack before heading into Ready-Now Electronics to pick up his beloved “cheap” mixer board.

The clerk tested it out before him and it did indeed seem to be working again, so he paid them the fee with his debit card and loaded the mixer into its luggage carrier—the store employee had watched with amusement throughout that process, no doubt used to working with people lucky enough to have cars—then Theo made his way home on the bus.

He still had two hours to kill before he’d have to leave again for work, so he decided to test out the mixer with the sounds they’d recorded at Studson Studios as well as what he’d worked on with his laptop in the interim. Listening to Lysander’s voice in the recording did funny things to his insides but he forced himself to work through it, tried his best to regard it like any other vocal sample he could have scavenged online, tweaking it with repeats and reverbs until it was more like EDM and less like an angelic choir.

He got so into arranging music that when his cell phone timer went off to let him know he had to leave in another ten minutes, he muttered a curse word, writing down notes in a text doc on what else he wanted to change, then saving the file and shutting his laptop lid so the computer would go to sleep. He was determined to finish it up that evening even if he was exhausted from getting through another concert, since he’d have to wait until two days later otherwise, given that he had back to back warehouse shifts the next day and a half.

That evening, Halo was scheduled to host a concert for a 70’s glam rock cover band, full of loud squealing guitar solos and voices gravelly and intense. As he concentrated on his job in the mixing booth, keeping all the sound levels correct and twisting knobs when necessary to preserve the audiences’ earbuds, he couldn’t help thinking somewhat spitefully how amateurish the cover band seemed when they played guitar, unlike the delicate artistry with which Lysander strummed his.

Indeed, though there were enough people to fill at least the front half of the standing-room-only dance floor, it was far from a sold-out show. Jim was in a bad mood because of it, obviously feeling like it was somehow the employees’ fault that they hadn’t sold more tickets.

At the end of the night Jim was on the stage barking orders at all of them, the cover band already gone from the building, leaving the stagehands and other venue employees to do all the end-of-concert work—put all the in-house equipment away, wrap the cords up for safe storage, clean up all the garbage and sticky spills the audience had left on the floors even though there were trashcans in several obvious places. As Theo was stooping to pick up a half-filled soda bottle, Keenan approached him to let him know that Jim had said he would be waiting in his office to talk to Theo after he was finished cleaning the floor.

Nerves fluttered in Theo’s stomach—if Jim wanted to talk one on one with a person, it was rarely for anything positive. As much as he hated the job, Theo still had a hard time quitting, work ethic drilled into him by his parents labeling anyone who quit a job for anything less than unlivable work conditions as a coward and a failure. Still, there wasn’t much he could do to forestall whatever Jim had to say to him, so after picking up the last of the trash and washing his hands thoroughly, Theo steeled himself with a deep breath then made his way into Jim’s office near the front of the building.

~~

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www.patreon.com/fracturedheart (SFW version)

Like, does "he pleasured himself" count as "adult only" writing?!?! "he made himself feel good"? "he spanked the monkey"? "he floodled his noodle"?!? WHAT THE FUCK IS THE LINE WHERE A TEXT-ONLY STORY BECOMES "SEXUALLY EXPLICIT"?!?!?

Like, instead of "his boyfriend thrust inside of him" I could write "his boyfriend applied internal force to a specific section of his lower anatomy roughly the size and cylindrical shape of a reasonably-sized salami into the concave region of his bodily waste disposal canal".

Then again probably even that would be flagged as "smut."

Or I could go the other direction of "ridiculous" into "his boyfriend put a banana into his coconut"...

Nah, that'd get banned too.

Chapter Nine of my boys love/gay romance webnovel "Fractured Heart: the Tale of the Pop Star and the Pauper" is now available at www.patreon.com/FracturedHeart !

Frustrated at his inability to stop obsessing over the handsome pop star Lysander, Theo decides to try to find someone else to "relieve his tension with" at a nightclub. However, as one might expect, this effort goes awry. Will Theo successfully distract himself from his crush? Or is he already "in too deep"? Read on to find out!

(Please note that this is the "SFW" version of the chapter, rewritten to comply with Patreon's arbitrary and ill-defined rules for when text-only story is considered "sexually explicit." If you'd like to read the chapter "as intended," you'll have to go to the "adult only" Patreon account for this webnovel at: www.patreon.com/FracturedHeartAO )

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[First Page of Chapter Preview]

Though the nightclub had only opened a half hour or so ago, a small throng of patrons had already gathered, most of them crowding the neon-lit bar while a few others were dancing—probably preloaded with alcohol or something more intense before they’d arrived. Some nights, Cece’s played trance or house music which Theo infinitely preferred, but tonight it was some kind of 80s/90s pop hit mashups, music from long before he’d even been born. The DJ wasn’t very good at mixing in transitions between the songs, either.

Still, it was the only night that week that he’d managed to both not have work at the concert venue that evening and not be on schedule for an ungodly hour at the warehouse the next day—so he’d decided, more or less on a whim, to take advantage of it. To at least try to find some distraction from his damned obsession with the handsome blonde.

It’d been years since Theo had been at a nightclub—except to play DJ gigs, of course—and he couldn’t help feeling a little out of place. He was dressed in the same sort of flashy-but-sleek dress shirt and tight black slacks that a lot of the other patrons were, figuring it wasn’t really the sort of venue where goth or emo fashion was going to impress anyone into possibly wanting to sleep with him. Some of the others there were wearing skintight elastic creations that were little more than lingerie, especially the twinks hired to flex and gyrate on the two small, circular stages in the center of the dance floor. Once upon a time, he might have gawked at them, entranced by their movements and their lithe forms, but now they barely caught his eye. Apparently his tastes had changed—he only seemed to find himself remotely attracted to tall, masculine types.

As part of his mission to stop thinking about Lysander, he’d tried to look more masculine himself, keeping his hair tied back in a ponytail rather than let it drape to his shoulders and foregoing eyeliner, though he still had the tiniest bit of brown eyeshadow and cheek contouring on, too dissatisfied with the plainness of his face without at least that much. Theo tried his very best to avoid fidgeting, to present the kind of masculine energy he’d once upon a time had at least some slight ability to emulate, before he’d suffered such psychiatric collapse thanks to the constant belittling from He Who Shall Not Be Named. Theo tried to tap into that now—even if he felt like a clownish poser while doing so.

Not knowing where else to idle, he leaned against the side of the bar and slowly sipped a drink (a mocktail, naturally, though he hoped none of the others nearby would notice it was fake alcohol). Just as he was questioning if he even had the bravery to stay there longer than it took to finish the drink, he felt a presence close in to his right and glanced up—shit, a bear.

Though he’d switched plenty of times before, Theo had arrived tonight determined to find a bottom—somehow, the idea of submitting himself in such an intimate way to a stranger was still too much for him, regardless of whether it felt good or not. But the bear was looking him up and down as if he were something delicious to be consumed, wiry hairs poking out from between the unbuttoned top of the bear’s crisp white shirt that shone blindingly in the blacklights above the bar.

“Hey there,” the bear greeted him with one arm casually resting against the bar. “I’m Kevin. You here alone?”

Taking another sip from his drink, Theo debated how to make it clear to the bear that he was not interested without offending him—or possibly making him angry. “Umm, nope, w-waiting for a friend,” he lied, unable to quite look at the bear so he stared at the go-go dancers beyond his shoulder instead.

“Ah, yeah? Too bad.” Though he sounded as if he might get the hint, “Kevin” still lingered, still openly stared at Theo, especially his butt. “Your drink is almost finished. Why don’t I buy you one and we’ll wait for your ‘friend’ together?”

Ugh—he was so pushy. Well, that was part of the ‘masculine’ energy, Theo supposed…though somehow Lysander managed to be masc as hell without being an asshole about it.

“No thanks,” Theo mumbled, finally forcing himself to look up so he could give the bear a flat stare of dismissal. “H-he should be there a-any minute.”

Disappointment and annoyance filtered across Kevin’s expression, but finally he left Theo’s side without another word, back on the prowl for some other tasty-looking piece of ass to leer at.

Theo breathed a sigh of relief, then chastised himself for his foolishness in coming here. Of course, hookup apps were always an option—but they made Theo even more nervous. Beyond the ego-risk of someone who’d swiped right on him changing their mind as soon as they saw him in person, meeting up with someone he’d talked to online first made him feel obligated to stay with them even if he found he didn’t like their vibes. Even if they set off red flags immediately, he was too worried about being rude to tell them he’d changed his mind. That was how he’d met He Who Shall Not Be Named, after all.

The drink then finished, Theo slid away from the bar, carrying his empty glass towards the bin on a tray near the exit with the full intent of giving up on the venture and riding the bus for the 40 minute trip home. But just as he approached the bin, a different guy also approached the bin with his own empty cup—a young man even more petite than Theo was, wearing a see-through fishnet top and tight pleather pants that left little question about his ‘package’ to the imagination.

As they both neared the bin and placed their cups into it, the youth flashed him a vaguely sultry smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Theo replied automatically, struggling to keep the nervousness from his expression as he subtly looked the youth over, trying his best to summon an interest in him instead of letting his thoughts continue to swarm with images of golden blonde hair and a brilliant smile.

~~