Phantasm:Treats part 2

His eyes fell on Seth’s box of enemas when he was finished, and he set two on the counter. It was always good to be prepared.

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Seth

Dealing with the band had been like dealing with a bunch of hormonal twelve-year-old girls. The lead singer had slapped the guitarist across the face, and they all started screaming at each other. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the massive blowout hadn’t just so happened to occur in the middle of a public place. Seth had only just managed to get one of the members to retract his statement about quitting the band when television crews showed up.

The poor manager was going to be doing a lot of damage control. Luckily, Seth’s contract was over and he didn’t have to think about it any longer. He had his check, his bags, his plane ticket. His keyboard had been lost in the previous night’s events, but the manager had given him a hefty sum to compensate. He wasn’t upset. He was going home to his baby grand and his husband.

Home. The word was still as sweet as chocolate in his mind. The wait was making him anxious. He’d had no sleep, no time to clean up, and the airplane was too crowded and noisy for him to relax. He’d tried to keep himself steady without the pain, but it was getting harder and harder the longer he was away from Curtis. As much as he enjoyed touring with a rock band and playing his heart out on stage, he didn’t want to do it again without Curtis by his side. It had been too much. He’d get to Curtis soon, and then the world would be right. Perhaps he’d be willing to accept a tour next summer, when Curtis could go too, but not before. He’d been away from his lover, his husband, his sanity, for too long.

For his first flight, he was stuck behind twin infants. They were adorable, but they screamed a lot. He made a mental note to question Curtis about any desire to attempt adoption. He’d never been a big kid person, but the flight had cured him of any latent desires for babies. He didn’t think he’d have the patience to be a good dad.

For the second flight, he was next to an obnoxiously talkative woman who kept asking questions about his scar. He’d tried being polite. When that failed, he then tried to ignore her. When she got all huffy and started to hiss at him about his manners, he threw in his earbuds and turned on his mp3 player, cranking Camille Saint-Saens’s Danse Macabre. It was an appropriate enough choice for that time of year.

He broke into his bag of candy corn and moaned pornographically at the taste of the waxy sugar. Madame Obnoxious gave him a scandalized look, but it finally stopped her from talking.

As soon as they let him off the plane, he’d booked it out of Des Moines’s tiny terminal as fast as he could. He passed security and got stuck behind a large group of people on the lone escalator. He glanced around as he descended, the mechanical stairway going agonizingly slow. A small seating area was directly below him, and as he finally stepped off the stairs, he caught a flash of gold and freckles.

“Seth!” Curtis had him up off the floor, twirling around and laughing before Seth could see his husband properly.

“Holy hell, Curt, put me down!” Seth giggled. Curtis did, but he kept the younger man flush against him as he leaned down for a scorching kiss. Seth could see the obnoxious woman from his flight looking utterly shocked out of the corner of his eye, and then he forgot the rest of the world. Eyelids closed. Tongues battled for dominance. Hands groped, kneaded, brushed, stroked– and then they broke away in gasps. Seth grinned up at Curtis, basking in the heat of strong arms.

“God, I missed you.” Curtis leaned down for a quick peck as they walked toward the baggage claim.

“Not as much as I missed you,” Seth said quietly.

“Derek said you were stressing.” Curtis’s eyes flicker over his exposed skin. “I was under the impression that it was doing good things for you.”

“I think it was too much, Curtis.”

“Explain it to me?” Seth could hear the worry seeping into Curtis’s rasping voice.

“It was good and bad. I was getting pretty desperate toward the end, wanting the pain–” he held up a hand as Curtis’s mouth opened. “Hear me out. I couldn’t handle the band, and they dragged me into a lot of shit I wasn’t ready to deal with. Seth’s friend Casey was great, but the other guys had a hard time with the fact I was gay. Travis took it personally. I had a lot of nasty comments thrown my way, and you know how good I am with unwanted confrontation. Travis even went as far as to hire a hooker and shove her into my hotel room a few nights into the tour.”

Curtis winced. “Seriously? They knew you were married. Why the hell did he–“

“It’s California, and Travis thought it was disgusting. To him, our marriage isn’t authentic.” Seth could see Curtis’s face redden and contort. “It pissed me off too, and he learned pretty quickly how upset the little fag could get when you step on his toes.”

Curtis had to chuckle at that.

“I bet he loved that, didn’t he?”

“Oh, he most definitely did.