Tony & Darian have been friends and playing together in their band, Sexual Frankenstein, for a few years, and while they really are friends, they've never crossed that line -- no matter how much they may want to -- because of their band and friendship, as well as not thinking the other is interested.
The apparent interest in one of them, from their hot and very glam new singer, brings things to a head as long-buried jealousies push to the fore, leading both Tony and Darian to reevaluate what they already have and what they so desperately want.
This story previously appeared in the Po'boys Anthology, published by Torquere Press.
Yeah, the voice was bad enough because it was so good, but even worse was the fact that Andy was too fucking good-looking and not at all shy. Andy would never sit around for two years, yearning for someone who had never once seemed to be interested, just because he was too scared to make a move. No, Tony was pretty sure that Andy, with his make-up and highlights, his dramatic wardrobe and even more dramatic nature, would just stroll up to whoever caught his eye and say something to make that person laugh. Something to make their blue eyes shine and crinkle at the corners. Something to have that person's slightly wavy, collar-length dark-blond hair moving wildly while that same person's soft-looking, pink-lipped mouth opened in a grin to reveal almost perfect teeth, aside from the one lateral incisor on the left that was crooked and overlapped that left front tooth just enough to be cute and quirky rather than snaggly.
Add in the stage moves that Andy somehow kept managing to pull off without stumbling or tripping over his own feet -- or any of the numerous cables covering the stage -- and Tony definitely hated the bastard. More than hated him when the jerk took each and every opportunity to maneuver over to Darian's side and rub up against him, singing into his eyes, looking wicked and delicious. Eight times so far, because Tony was keeping count, and Darian didn't seem to mind even a little, damn it.
My own fault. Should have manned up and taken my shot before, and now it's too late. I'm a fucking idiot. And how appropriate was it that the next song on their playlist was the old Cinderella ballad "Don't Know What You Got"? Not that Tony had ever broken anyone's heart, but he totally understood the emotion behind the chorus
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Meet TC Blue:
Contrary to popular opinion, TC Blue was not raised by wolves. Nor did she spring, fully formed, from the forehead of a god, instead entering the world in the usual manner.
A true jack-of-all-trades and master of none (otherwise known as flighty and unable to make a decision and stick with it), she currently resides near the east coast where she does her best to avoid politics and religions as a general rule.
TC can usually be found sitting in front of her computer, trying to wrangle rabid and numerous plot bunnies, though her muses insist that she not be too hard on the poor little fluffy things. (Poor little fluffy things with sharp teeth and claws, but whatever. Muses don't seem to care much about the possible bloodshed if the bunnies think TC's not writing quickly enough.)
One thing sure to calm the bunnies is hearing from readers, so please feel free to contact TC at firstname.lastname@example.org or stalk her: on Twitter -- @tc_blue, on Facebook -- T.c. Blue.