Well, if you wanted honesty....
Somewhere... somewhere in his mind there was still this memory floating around, revolving and twisting so that he couldn't quite reach it. It had been one of his drunk and drugged nights and the memory consisted of sweating bodies and the sweetest voice moaning his name over and over again, But he couldn't grasp it, he heard the voice but he didn't hear it, and it always was so short that everything was unrecognizable.
It always was on his mind since last month, night and day, and he knew he dreamed about it, but, like the memory, the dream faded away as soon as he woke up.
He had even asked Mikey if he knew where they had been back then and if he knew if he had met somebody there, if he had seen a girl (or a boy, you could never know the things you do when you're drunk and drugged) leaving with him.
But Mikey didn't know either. The only thing he could remember was that they had had a show in somewhere only god knows and that the after show party had been kind of boozed up.
"I think we stayed in a hotel..." Mikey had frowned "And I really had too much beer. Could be that you took someone with you, but I don't know anymore."
Gerard sighed. He didn't know why he was so persistent on wanting to know who he had been with. Maybe because it had been the best night of his life? Could be. And that voice, that voice which moaned his name with so much ferocity it had him shuddering after thinking about it. If only his min wasn't so fickle!
And the body... so willing, so sweaty, arching under his touch... Oh. He looked down at his crotch. Too much excitement.
He looked at the clock. 3:17 am already. He stretched and got up, tiptoeing his way out of the small studio in the bus and to his bunk, He was stripping his T-Shirt over his head when he heard it again: The moan of his memory, of his dreams.
He looked up quickly, listening again, but it was gone.
Damn...I really should get into bed... he thought and slipped out of his jeans.
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