by
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.
Cover Artists:
Narrators:
Pairings: 4+ or Other
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 36-45
Tropes: Age Difference, Alpha Character, Enemies to Lovers, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Insta Love / Love at First Sight, Love Can Heal / Redemption, Love Triangle, Rescue, Second Chances, Sex Buddies Become Lovers, Small Town
Word Count: 50000
Setting: small town maine
Languages Available: English
Thought you said it wouldn’t be packed!”
Half desperately whispered hiss, half wail, Moon’s words thundered through the tight confines of the makeshift dressing room.
“I said it shouldn’t be.”
“Well, it is!”
“No shit.” Turning, Mikal caught sight of a trembling Moon hastily shoving his guitar back in its case.
Oh hell no. Not this time. Not again!
“What the hell are you doing.”
“What does it look like I’m doing!”
Moon’s voice, usually so melodic and smooth, shot up two octaves, ending in a screech that left Mikal cringing and rubbing his ear.
“It looks like you’re about to tuck tail and leave me to perform for our friends and neighbors on my own,” Mikal snapped. “Which would be a completely shitty thing to do, and you know it!”
READ MOREMoon might have been the one shaking, but Mikal could feel his heart pounding so hard his vision was going wonky, or maybe it was just a panic attack threatening to hit.
“I can’t go out there,” Moon declared, frantically scurrying between his amp and his messenger bag, fingers fluttering as he gathered up cords and shoved them in zippered pockets. His boot hit the metal leg of a folding chair, jostling it, and sending a handful of guitar picks scattering across the floor.
Mikal caught the sleeve of his shirt as he scrambled to pick them up. Giving it a little too much of a tug, and spinning Moon around, his best friend crashing into him with a yelp. The impact with the floor knocked half the air out of him. Moon landing on top of him drove out the rest. Mikal lay there gasping and clutching his side while Moon stumbled to his feet, tripped over an errant guitar chord, and smacked into the wall. Judging from the whimper and soft, choking gasp it must have hurt. Cruel as it might be Mikal’s first thought was Good.
By the time Mikal managed to sit up, Moon was huddled against the wall, watching him through a fringe of indigo-gray hair, shimmering strands of glitter-streaked heliotrope falling across his nose. His eyes were wide and shimmering with unshed tears, the brilliant blue of them the brightest thing in the entire room.
“I can’t go out there,” he whispered, hugging himself and huddling against the brick. There was the faintest scrape from its rough surface marring Moon’s pale cheek. He’d have kissed away the sting if he wasn’t pissed at Moon and wanting to wring his neck.
“You can, if either of you hopes to get another booking in this town again,” Linus, bartender, owner, and all-around mostly nice guy unless you were fucking with his money, declared from the doorway. His usually jovial face pinched into a frown as he stared at Moon, who refused to look at either of them.
“Uncle Linus,” Moon whined, voice wavering.
Mikal knew that sound about as well as he knew the beauty of Moon singing. He was a half-step away from full-on sobbing and rapidly approaching meltdown mode.
COLLAPSE
