Ruin Porn (12 page)

“Dimensional portal tours? Seriously?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Miah is in to some really out-there stuff. I swear to fuck he’d be over the moon if he was abducted by aliens and probed. He’d consider it being taken to a higher plane of existence or some other mumbo jumbo.”

“Has he always been like this?”

“Pretty much, but I love him so I put up with his weird little idiosyncrasies.”

Seeing an opening and jumping on it, Evin asked, “And what about Finn?”

Ritchie’s hand landed on Evin’s thigh, thumb rubbing against the denim in absentminded circles as Ritchie thought. Evin did his best to ignore it even though the warm touch both excited and freaked him out.

“What’s not to love about Finn? I mean, serious, the dude can be a bit of a pain in the ass, his mouth has a hard time staying closed—Jesus, he is a sarcastic little fuck—but he’s got a heart of gold. Finn is more than a friend, he’s family. You know, not like the weird aunt who pinches your cheeks and slobbers when she kisses you ’cause she’s just so damn happy to see you, but kinda like the cool cousin who shows up to the family picnic with a fifth and a croquet mallet and you can’t wait to see what will happen next. Makes the whole family thing worth being a part of ’cause it’s so much more fucking interesting. Don’t let Miah fool you. He’s more the weird aunt type than you’d think, except I can handle seeing him more than once a year.” Ritchie laughed. “But yeah, man, they’re family.”

Family, huh?
After what he’d witnessed between Ritchie and Finn, he wouldn’t have expected him to refer to Finn quite like that. Evin cocked his head and tried to think of a way to broach the subject.

“Okay, indulge me here. I’m trying to get a whole read on you guys since we’ve only known each other a month. Finn tends to be the one who, regardless of his rocker image, isn’t one to bang and drink his way across the country, while Miah seems to have made it his mission to bed as many chicks as he can, a different party in a different town kind of guy. So where do you fall in the mix?”

Ritchie shifted, averting his gaze, but not before a wince crossed his features. He recovered quickly, turning back to Evin with a slight grin on his face, only his normal level of ease didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just me, man. Miah isn’t that bad, and Finn’s never been comfortable with the ladies, even when we were younger.”

There it was, his opportunity. Evin considered the ramifications briefly, then thought what the hell. It was now or never. “What about with the guys?”

Ritchie visibly stiffened, his eyes going wide and wild. “Why would you ask that?”

Evin kept his expression schooled. “It was just a question. I mean, I don’t care one way or another. Who somebody fucks doesn’t make them any less of a person to me.”

Ritchie’s panicked expression drained away with Evin’s statement, and he relaxed back into the couch. But he still didn’t say anything.

Evin set his hand on Ritchie’s thigh, taking the chance that he was pushing too far but too curious to stop. “Seriously, I’m just saying if he did swing that way, it wouldn’t bother me.”
I’d be over the fucking moon giddy.
“But, I could imagine in this biz why someone would hide it. It wouldn’t be good for all the screaming girls with their unrealistic hopes of one day marrying a rock star to know they had the wrong plumbing. Wouldn’t be good for record sales, I can imagine.” He chuckled, trying to keep the mood light.

“It’s not my place to say anything. If you want to know about Finn and what he likes or doesn’t like, you should ask him.”

Whether Ritchie realized it or not, he’d already answered the question. Evin couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he swore he could feel the rush of blood to his head, but he had to say something now or he never would get the balls to bring it up again.

“Can I tell you something and you promise not to think I’m a total and utter creeper?”

“Can’t make any promises.” Ritchie chuckled nervously.

Evin took a deep breath and let it out. “The other night, in Paris. You know the night I stayed in the room when you all went out?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I was tired and I did go to bed early, but….”

Ritchie’s brow furrowed, and Evin could tell he was thinking about that night. The tension in Ritchie’s body wrenched back up. “But what?”

“I woke up and heard you two talking, and well… I got up to piss and—” He swallowed hard past his suddenly dry throat. “—I watched you two. I know I should have given you your privacy, but to be quite honest….” He stopped and forced himself to look Ritchie in the eye. “Fuck. It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh fuck!” Ritchie cursed and jumped to his feet, pacing. “It was just a onetime thing. We were drunk and horny and….” Ritchie stopped in front of Evin and met his gaze. “You can’t tell anyone, especially Miah. He would freak the fuck out.”

Evin pushed to his feet, his need to soothe away the scared look in Ritchie’s eyes automatic. He laid his hand on Ritchie’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone. What or who you talk to is your business, but can I ask a favor?”

Ritchie’s eyes darted around, searching Evin’s face. “A favor? Sure.”

“Mind if I join in next time? Because seriously, dude, it was fucking hot.”

Ritchie stared at him for a moment, as if he were trying to decide how he was going to respond. Evin didn’t push, simply waited with a grin. Ritchie hadn’t walked away, hadn’t taken a swing at him, and Evin’s hand was still where it had been when he laid it on Ritchie’s shoulder.

After a few more heartbeats, Ritchie’s lip curled into a shy smile. “Fuck. You scared me. Are you serious, Ev?”

“Totally.”

“Totally,” Ritchie repeated, blowing a long breath out. “Wow. You know what? Yeah, fuck it. I think Finn would go for it. He’s so got the hots for you.”

Evin playfully shoved Ritchie back. “Now you’re just yanking my chain. That’s cruel, man. So cruel.”

“I’m dead serious. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s got it bad.”

The sound of the lock disengaging and Miah’s voice ended the conversation before Evin could find out more. Ritchie backed away from him, whispering, “Not a word of this to Miah, got it?”

Evin pressed his lips together, made a gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key, just as the door opened and Miah and Finn walked into the room.

“I have died and gone to candy heaven,” Finn announced, holding up a white bag. “I fucking love Norway! Smågodte!”

Shit.
More of those lollipops. Evin didn’t know what was going to happen next, but every second he waited to find out was going to be more torturous than the last.

S
ID
AND
the sound guy stood behind the glass of the control room while Ritchie twirled his sticks watching Miah, Evin, and Finn discuss song choices and arrangements. He should have known Miah would go into hiring Ev with a ready-formed plan on how to incorporate the kid’s work into their next album.

“It’s the main reason I wanted him with Rez,” Miah had exclaimed with complete exasperation for his drummer’s lack of mind-reading ability. It was a reaction that was both infuriating and kind of endearing. But, yeah, mainly infuriating.

“Here you go,” Miah said and handed Ritchie a stack of sheet music. “I’ve put the potential track list in order of preference.”

“There goes Thade’s compulsive need to control, again,” Finn called out.

Miah flipped Finn the bird. “The top three songs are definitely going on the album. I’ll decide on the others once I’ve heard us play them.”

Ritchie took the stack of paper and looked over the first one, titled “Grey Hush.” The lyrics were poetic in a way that made Ritchie’s head hurt, but the music looked simple enough to follow. Hi-hats, ride cymbal, snare, mid-tom, low-tom. He set the music on the stand. He’d pick it up quickly enough.

“Alright, guys, let’s get started,” Sid said from the control room.

Miah looked at each of them, waiting for a nod, then approached the mic. “One, two, three.”

Finn started the intro, his fingers moving over the strings with practiced ease, the guitar bowing to his command. Before turning his attention to the music in front of him, Ritchie caught the way Evin was staring at Finn on the other side of the recording studio.
Hunger.
There was no other word Ritchie could put to the look. It was the same thing he’d seen on Finn’s face when Finn watched Evin play. The two of them were pure amp wattage when they did that shit, and if anything happened where they actually got to touch each other and Ritchie got to watch? Fuck, it was going to be nuclear. Which was either going to be epically good or an utter fucking fail. He had to readjust himself on his stool to get comfortable around the stick in his pants that was begging for more attention than the ones in his hands.
Focus.
He had to focus. He picked up the beat and started playing.

He shot a glance to Miah, who began belting out the first verse. If Miah found out about any of this, the fallout would be more catastrophic than…. Shit. Ritchie was sure it would be worse than he expected. The potential for disaster roiled his gut and caused an ache to settle in his chest.

But the way Evin had looked at him when he said how fucking hot it was to watch him and Finn together… and that Finn knew Ritchie wasn’t on any scale of sexuality that was normal but still went with it… that he helped a guy out by getting him off when no one else could…. He couldn’t say no to any of that.

“That’s a wrap, guys. Great job,” Sid praised over the intercom and gave a thumbs-up from the booth.

They’d gone through the entire stack of sheets and Ritchie couldn’t give an informed opinion on how any of them sounded. It wasn’t as if Miah would ask his opinion anyway, and fuck it, playing his fingers off was just what he needed right then. Ritchie shook out his aching arms and wiped the sweat that was rolling down his temples, but he was riding a high. For only introducing the new tunes two hours ago, he could tell by the shit-eating grin on Miah’s face that they’d fucking killed it.

“Holy shit, we are rock gods,” Finn hooted and held up his hand.

“That we are, my man,” Miah responded and slapped Finn’s hand. He held his fist out to Ritchie. “Totally sick beats, Myer.”

“Thanks,” Ritchie said and bumped his knuckles against Miah’s. “I can’t take the credit for it. That goes to Evin. Evin, you can write some wicked fucking tunes.”

The blush that crept up Evin’s neck to his cheeks with the praise was just too adorable for words. Finn licked his lips as he stared at Evin. Disaster waiting to happen, and Ritchie was all-in.

The playback they listened to in the booth was rough, but it sounded even better than Ritchie had originally thought. Christ, they were going straight to the fucking top with this new sound.

The longer they sat in that booth and Miah and Sid debated creativity versus sales while Evin and Finn sat in the corner leaning into each other with guitars taking red pen to sheet music, the harder it became for Ritchie to concentrate on much of anything but getting Finn alone. The man was totally going to flip when he shared what Evin had said.

Ritchie was thrumming. By the time he finally got a few seconds alone with Finn, they were in some nondescript restaurant, the drinks flowing, course after course of food landing on the table. When Finn got up to use the bathroom, Ritchie excused himself and followed. As soon as the bathroom door was closed behind them, Finn stepped up to the urinal.

Ritchie took a second to make sure they were alone, then he blurted, “Evin saw us in the bathroom in Paris.”

“What?” Finn squeaked and spun around.

Okay, bad idea to drop that kind of info on someone while they were pissing. Ritchie jumped back. “Hey, dude, whoa, watch where in the hell you’re aiming that thing.” He grabbed a paper towel, grumbling as he wiped the piss from his jeans.

“Sorry,” Finn said and turned back around, but kept his gaze on Ritchie over his shoulder. “What do you mean, Evin saw us? You mean like—?”

“Yup, the whole thing,” Ritchie interrupted. “But before you freak out, take a breath and don’t piss on me again. He liked what he saw.”

“You’re shitting me, Myer. Shut the fuck up,” Finn dismissed. He shook his dick, then buttoned up.

“Now, would I shit you? You’re my favorite turd.” He tossed the paper towel and flipped on the taps in the sink and washed his hands.

Finn grabbed Ritchie’s sleeve. “You’re serious, aren’t you? He told you he liked it?”

He looked down at where Finn was holding on to him, then back up at Finn’s face and lifted both brows. He already had piss on his jeans, he didn’t need any other random bathroom juices on his shirt.

“Oops, sorry,” Finn apologized and wiped Ritchie’s sleeve before turning on the tap in the other sink and washing his hands.

Ritchie grabbed another paper towel, added a little soap, and washed not only his piss-covered thigh but also his shirt. “He asked me for a favor.”

That got Finn’s attention.

“Really? What kind of favor?”

“That next time we let him join in,” Ritchie said and waggled his brows. Finn’s eyes went comically wide and Ritchie choked on a snort.

“Bullshit.”

“Nope, totally serious. I may or may not have told him you have the hots for him.”

“Jesus, Myer, why the hell did you do that?”

Ritchie shrugged. “Because it’s true. Luckily for you, he feels the same way.” He patted Finn’s chest. “You can thank me later.”

“Is he gay? Bi? Curious?”

“I don’t know, dude. We didn’t do the whole afterschool-special thing. It was mostly a discussion about fucking.”

Finn crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Ritchie. “So help me God, Myer, if you’re bullshitting me, I will totally kick your ass.”

Ritchie took Finn’s face in both his hands. “Like you could.” And planted a smack on his lips. “Now let’s go before they start to talk.”

Finn grabbed his shirt and stopped him. “Did you tell Ev this has to stay on the down-low?”