Postmidnight Thoughts

skeletons in the closet

Labored breaths and sweaty skins. A tangle of limbs beneath a mess of sheets. No matter how many times they do it in his dreams, having Zach in his arms was still his favorite thing about reality. With them like this, Jude didn’t think he could want anything more in his life.

He grabbed Zach’s arm and pinned them above his head on the bed. He used more force than was necessary, but Jude knew Zach liked it. He liked getting rough. He liked being handled less than carefully. Because he knew what it meant for what comes next.

"Please," he begged. "Please… I want… I want you."

His eyes hid beneath a curtain of hair, but Jude could feel the intensity in them. Panting, Zach breathed through his parted lips that shone deliciously under the dim-lit room. How ravishing. How completely mind blowing.

Jude smirked at him.

"I like it when you beg," he whispered in a low, sultry voice. He leaned over to bite just the tip of Zach’s ear, making the younger shiver.

Trailing his other hand down, Jude ghosted against the inside of Zach's thighs. He forcefully pried them apart and grinned at the response it elicited. Zach moaned and shuffled, looking almost desperate for things to progress.

"Come on..." Jude challenged. "Let me hear you say 'please' again."

"f**k—stop teasing—f**k—please!"

"Hey, hey. Don't struggle..." Jude opened Zach's legs wider, giving him better access to what he wanted to dig into. "Or I might miss."

"Just do it already—angh!"

What. The. f**k.

He was hard.

Jude shouldn’t even be surprised, but there he was. He cracked his eyes open to stare at the ceiling, the rest of his body still tingling from his less than decent dreams. He groaned.

He rolled to the other side of his narrow mattress just so he could press his face into the bed. He was tired. Or perpetually tired, more like. He may just be the lyricist, but Zach’s concert required so much more manpower than they had, and he had to volunteer with more work on the side. His added tasks on top of the usual duties had been going on for a few weeks. It will go on for a few more.

Maybe that was why he had that dream. The stress must have finally caught up to him, his brain telling him he needed to wind down. He needed to relax. Unfortunately, his stressed body meant his mind demanded sexy time… even if it was just in his dreams.

And, as usual, Zach was a starring role. The bastard.

A long and frustrated groan escaped Jude’s throat as he greeted his morning. Face down on his mattress, he patted the space on his bed, looking for his phone. What time was it? Just a little bit past two in the afternoon, the screen said. He needed to meet Justin at three. And despite his best efforts, there he was, still lazing around in his bed.

He groaned again, this time, louder and more frustrated. So many things he wanted to do. Completely neglecting the ache in his nether regions, he stood and stretched. He needed to take a bath. Maybe he’ll take care of himself later, if at all. Whatever. He decided his top priority was getting ready because he did not want to be on the receiving end of Justin’s sulking wrath.

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Squeak! Squeak!

Two pairs of sneakers rubbed against the concrete floor, and the high-pitched noises bounced around in the studio. Jude stretched his leg and clapped his hand in the opposite direction. Justin followed. He turned to the beat of the music and shook his shoulders as he danced. Justin did the same. But looking at the large mirror occupying the wall, he could tell his friend was barely catching up. Justin’s long and skinny limbs were not made for dancing. Even if he was doing well for a beginner, Justin’s movements needed work.

He inwardly chuckled. Making a complicated series of steps, he stepped forward and began to dance freestyle. Justin, who was not a dancer to begin with, soon tripped on his feet, collapsing from embarrassment and exhaustion. He tumbled down to the floor, legs spread out and hands supporting the rest of his body.

"I think..." The wheeze from his windpipe sounded a little problematic. "I think—I'm done… for today."

Jude threw his head back and laughed. He wiped the sweat trickling down his brows. "We've only been at it a few hours!"

Justin stuck out his pale lower lip. "I'm not... a dancer… like you. I can't believe you still… you still have this much… excess energy!" he panted.

"Yeah, well... Just burning all my reserves off,” Jude answered meaningfully. He sighed as he squat next to Justin on the floor. “I haven't gotten the time for physical activities lately."

The younger man teased. "Physical activities or physical activities?"

"We've been a bit busy organizing Zach's first concert and stuff. I haven’t… I haven’t gotten enough free time to go clubbing and… you know..."

"Get physical?"

"Yup," Jude replied, making his 'p' pop in his mouth.

"You know, one of these days I'm gonna want to look at your actual job description."

"Haha, and who says I'm going to give it to you?" He gave Justin a tired but happy smile. "I'm having fun with what I'm doing. And I actually like his team."

Justin gave him a look that made Jude think he didn't believe a thing. "Yeah, right."

Jude laughed. He always found Justin’s sarcasm endearing. It wasn’t forced, but it wasn’t offensive, either. At least, not to him. Justin’s sarcastic remarks Jude that he was not afraid to be blunt, especially when he needs to hear it. He was grateful for that.

It didn’t mean he was going to listen, though. So Jude laughed off the side comments and brushed his shoulder against Justin’s. Justin returned it. Then, Jude slung an arm around Justin’s neck, pulling the younger’s crown against his knuckle.

"Ow, ow! Don't break my skull! I still need it for grad school!" he complained.

"Oh, yeah?” Jude didn’t let him go. “Why don't you use that mouth of yours since it likes to say a lot of stuff?"

"Not everyone is charismatic as you—ow! Cut it out!"

"Mister, you should really learn to tame your tongue—!"

"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt."

Two soft knocks on the door made them stop their scuffle. They had been so loud, they didn’t even notice the door creak open.

The newcomer stood by the door, his greeting coming out as a deep, husky whisper. He had his hood up and sunglasses on, but Jude recognized who it was. Zach’s features were as familiar to him as his own face. As the singer stood, watching, he held his gym bag across one shoulder. White shirt under his hooded jacket and loose shorts. He was wearing a cap on top of everything that didn’t bother to hide his grimace. Zach must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Jude instantly smiled. He let go of the arm he wrong loosely around Justin’s neck and sat up straight. He pushed himself to stand and greet their visitor.

"Hey...!" Jude called. Beside him, Justin stood, too, wiping the sweat on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Is this...?" Justin whispered, leaning over to him. Jude, who still had an arm on his companion’s shoulder, just squeezed it in confirmation. Justin tensed.

"Rest day. I came to the studio to work up a sweat," Zach began. Then, he glanced at Justin. "Who's this?"

Justin scoffed. He didn’t even bother concealing it. He muttered something like 'Your worst nightmare' under his breath and said, "Well, Jude... I guess I'm going to go ahead."

It didn't seem to Jude like his friend was gaga about being introduced to a famous singer.

"Wait, weren't we going to have dinner?" Jude asked him.

"Nah, I'll go ahead." With his back to Zach, Justin said in a disgusted face, "I think I just lost my appetite." Then he pulled Jude into a quick hug.

Jude just chuckled. He patted the younger on the back. "Change out of your clothes."

"I will," he said. Justin broke their hug and started to walk away. “Dinner some other time?”

“Yeah. Dinner some other time. Of course.”

“Alright, text me.”

“Yup.”

"Bye, Judie..."

"Bye, Baby Justin...!"

Not bothering to be cordial, Justin rushed past the singer as if he didn’t exist. He walked right out the door and disappeared, making Zach look like he had just taken great offense at the stranger’s actions. Jude wanted to laugh at the tension, but he stopped himself. It was still funny, though.

The door clicked shut behind Justin, leaving the two men standing in the middle of the room.

Zach turned to him, scowling.

"What was with that dude?" he asked, his face showing a mix of offense and confusion.

"Haha, don't mind him," Jude replied. “That was Justin. The friend I told you about.”

“Didn’t seem as nice as you made him seem,” he said as he walked to the front and put his bags in one corner.

"He's just shy."

Zach scoffed. He didn’t reply to Jude anymore and began taking off his cap and sunglasses. Then, he took off his hood and shirt before rummaging through his gym bag for a change of clothes.

Was it a sin, Jude wondered. One of the things he liked about being invisible to the object of his affections was he could watch him closely without judgment. It was a perk Jude let himself enjoy, like a secret stash of candy bars. From the corner of his eyes, he took the chance to ogle the caramel-colored expanse of skin laid bare in front of him. Zach wasn’t ripped, but his muscles were toned from dancing for hours and hours. Jude also knew he was on a strict diet in preparation for the concert and the comeback that would follow. That meant Zach's arms, back, and torso were just the right amount of flesh and muscle. Just as Jude preferred it.

He only realized he was licking his lips when he had done it. Embarrassed, Jude hid his mouth under his fist. He pulled his tongue back inside his mouth until Zach was finally clothed again. He sported a loose muscle tee, which Jude cursed and appreciated at the same time.

His friend turned to him with a smirk.

"Up for a few rounds?" Zach said.

Jude chuckled. "Oh, don't challenge me, dude."

“That’s my boy!” He casually put his arm around Jude's shoulder and dragged him to the center of the room.

A brief silence stood between them as they waited. Then, one of Zach's dance songs started to play on the studio's sound system. Beat by beat, they moved in perfect synchronicity. Almost as if they practiced their dance for a long time.

The two of them have always been competitive against each other. Whether it be dancing or eating the most barbeques, they had a thing about wanting to outdo each other. They had been doing casual dance showdowns since the day they met.

Years later, they were still trying to outmatch and outlast each other. Their competitive streak continued, becoming a sort of bonding activity for the two of them. They would dance like no one was watching, impress each other, get in a few laughs if they ever made mistakes. And all these instances Jude kept as memories in the farthest corners of his heart. 

This was probably as close as he was going to get. He was going to take what he could.

Not even an hour later, Jude was beginning to lose his breath. His hours of dancing with Justin finally caught up to him, and after only a few rounds with Zach, his knees already started to buckle and shake.

As soon as the umpteenth song ended, he dropped to the floor. He waved his sweaty hands in the air in defeat.

"I... I'm beat—Can't... I can't dance anymore...!" he said to the ceiling.

From somewhere he couldn’t see, Zach laughed. "Goodness. You're such a grandpa!"

Jude turned to him, eyebrows knitting. Zach had a triumphant look in his face, both hands on his hips as he smirked at Jude on the floor.

"I have been dancing the whole afternoon, brat!" Jude reasoned. He waved his arm again, this time pointing to the open window. “And in case you didn’t notice, we’ve run out of daylight!”

From the baby blue sky of the mid-afternoon, the view was now a gradient of orange and purple sky. After all their dancing, neither of them noticed it had gotten dark. Even their studio had gotten a little dim, the orange light from the streetlamps outside illuminating them through the glass.

“Huh,” Zach exclaimed. "It's actually gotten late."

“Yes. So I’d appreciate a bit more understanding here.”

“Hah! Not my fault you’re getting a little old!”

Zach finally caught his own breath and laughed. It was a pretty laugh, so Jude let him. He enjoyed it.

Zach approached him from where he lay on the floor and held out his hand when he was done.

"Fine... since you look so pitiful, I'll treat you to dinner," he offered with a smug smirk. "What do you say, grandpa?"

Jude sneered. “You better take me to someplace fancy, you dork.”

“Well… Are you sure? ‘Cause we’re kind of not dressed for that.”

He pouted. "Fine. Then, I want barbeque and beer."

"Sure..." Zach replied, rolling his eyes. “As if you can take your alcohol.”

"Spicy barbeque. I demand it."

"Alright, alright, boss," the other laughed. "Now, can you please take my hand so we can shower and grab dinner?"

“Hmp.”

After pouting like a five-year-old, Jude took his friend’s hand and got up.

Still in their sweat-drenched shirts, they grabbed their bags and headed out of the room. They didn’t need a prompt anymore, and they continued talking about random things on the way to the showers.

The NO SEE studio’s shower room was not lavish or large by any means. It was just a small rectangular room in the corner of the building divided into three individual stalls. A frosted glass door guarded each stall, separating them from the lockers on the opposite end. If they tried, four men could squeeze into the small space. But even then, the tiniest squeak or rustle would echo within the room.

So, when Zach started to take off his muscle tee and Jude gasped, the sound reverberated and echoed in the walls.

Oh, f**k, that's right, Jude cursed in his head.

Jude did not really think much about their showering together until Zach started to take off his clothes. They were best friends, for goodness’s sake. And Zach had become so comfortable around him that the man didn't really mind stripping in front of his friend. It had happened in a few instances in the past. Each time, Jude would turn away or leave before anything happened. But the room was small. Restricting. There was no place to escape unless Jude ran straight past Zach. And what explanation could he give to the man then?

Jude took a deep breath. He felt his insides churn and being to burn like a furnace.

This is bad.

"You okay?" Zach asked him, pausing. "You're red."

Jude swallowed. "I'm... fine."

He was not fine.

Not when Zach began untying the knots of his shorts. Before Jude could see any more, he swiped his own bag and towel and turned away. With what little bit of fragile self-control he still commanded, he escaped into one of the stalls and took a deep breath.

“Hey, dude. What the heck?”

Jude shook himself awake. “F-Fine,” he said in a voice that cracked.

The man just started cleaning himself up. Jude showered quickly. But he let the cold water kill the burning inside him… at least, for a little while. He hurried to finish and get out of the stall. He had been fast enough that when he finished, Zach had only just turned on the water in his stall.

Jude watched the singer’s silhouette move behind the frosted glass, watched the faint outline of his figure flex his arms and his shoulders. His eyes lingered to the man’s small waist. And his mind wandered to his dream earlier that day.

And just like that, Jude started to crave for human touch. He swallowed.

After five years, Zach still was a trigger he needed to watch out for. He kept a safe distance and was fine with that, but his desires were a ticking time bomb. They could explode and set him ablaze at any given moment. Any given moment that Zach was around being his oblivious self. Jude, fragile and undisciplined as he was, burned every single time.

Was this his punishment? It felt a little unfair.

"Zach," he called through his parched throat.

Zach’s shadow turned to him. Oh, the shape he took.

"Yep?" he called.

Jude licked his dry lips. "I think… I need to go ahead, sorry."

"Huh? Why?" Zach's voice was curious but not pushing yet. “We’re not going for barbeque?”

“N-No… Sorry, I… don’t think so.”

"Dude, you feeling okay?"

"Uh... I just need to be somewhere," Jude replied in a half-truth. "And then, I'll just go home. Think I’ll rest after all."

"Hey... What's wrong? Want me to take you home? I brought my car."

"Nah, it's all good," he said. "I'll be fine. I'm… just going to take care of something."

“Well, alright. If you’re sure.”

Zach turned back around, getting back to showering.

And with just a curt 'bye', Jude turned on his heel and left.

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When was the last time Jude sought human company? Three, four months ago? He couldn't remember. But it wasn’t like this. Not at all.

He rarely ever succumbs to the temptation. He had trained himself to be a little less fragile next to the s*x appeal incarnate, Zach. But there were days like this, days when he was not the strongest warrior out there. On these occasions, Jude always goes clubbing to humor his libido. It was an activity he tries not to do a lot. His alcohol tolerance was s**t, and not everyone who expressed interest in him was okay with one-time things.

Thankfully, he found a local bar away from his and Zach’s usual locations. It was secluded and private, a good place to fish for a lost soul… even on a budget. An hour and a can of beer later, Jude was still sober enough to find someone he could go a few rounds with. It didn’t take much, just mutual understanding. Jude only needed to c**k his head, and his chosen one followed him out of the bar.

The young man he brought with him to his home was tall with an athletic build. His figure was a little like Zach's, with long limbs, broad shoulders, and a thin waist —perhaps the reason why Jude was drawn to him in the first place. He had curly, dark brown tufts of hair that framed his face. A cocky smile that flashed around perfect teeth.

By Jude's estimate, he would be in his mid-twenties. His features were... bland, but Jude really couldn't care less. The guy seemed okay, clean, professional, and since Jude was aching for release, he couldn't afford to be choosy anymore. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

That was how he found himself sandwiched between his visitor and his bed.

"Do you mind receiving?" the man asked as they scrambled above the mattress. Jude only then realized that he didn't even bother to get a name. He decided he didn’t care.

"Whatever works," Jude replied, his arousal beginning to make his body pulse.

The young man seemed pleased with his answer. He grinned and mumbled a satisfied, ‘Nice,’ before lunging at Jude.

They shared a hungry kiss, too wet and too much teeth. There was no romance there. Just two guys in the heat of the moment, looking for a good time. Soon, they had stripped most of their clothes, and Jude was left aching in just his boxers.

The man raked his eyes up and down Jude’s body before grinning again. “Bottom it is,” he said.

"Just… hurry the f**k up," Jude panted, jutting his hips to get any friction on his throbbing crotch. He grunted.

"Impatient, are we?" the other replied. “There’s a process, you know?”

Jude then found his hands pinned on top of his head, much like he did to Zach in his dream. He swallowed his excitement and let his bedmate lead.

Yes, he thought. He closed his eyes, reveling in the trail of sloppy and wet kisses left all over his neck. Jude keened—it was feeling too good—and his mind was going blank just thinking of what will happen next. His instincts took over, and he let out pleasured moans to praise his partner.

Finally, after months of abstinence, Jude was going to get some. The anticipation was making him oversensitive.

"Motherfucker!"

It was like glass breaking or a shrieking banshee. A loud and angry cry boomed throughout the room, and Jude was suddenly alone. The warmth he had come to seek disappeared. Unsure of what was happening, Jude opened his eyes and sat up on the bed, a little disoriented.

Sounds of a struggle came from his right. He instinctively turned his head to see.

What the f**k?!

Jude froze. His guest was on the floor underneath another man, currently getting pelted with harsh punches and smacks. The two figures exchanged blows, but the man who was Jude’s temporary reprieve was losing. He shielded his face and, as soon as he got the chance, slipped out of his captor’s hold.

Scrambling to his feet, the man kicked the newcomer in the chest. Then he ran out of the room, picking up the clothes scattered all around the floor.

But his escape didn’t deter his attacker.

"Get back here, you son of a b***h!" the other man yelled. "I'm going to f*****g murder you! I’ll kill you, you son of a motherfucker!"

The man hurried to stand. He took only a moment to breathe before beginning his pursuit again.

At that moment, Jude's eyes adjusted to the light. Recognition dawned on him just as the man, angry and murderous, bolted after his target.

"Z-Zach…?"

But Zach didn't seem to hear or see him. He just ran like a madman out of the room.

Fear, dread, and anger fell on Jude like a bucket of ice water. His arousal left him in an instant, replaced by a coldness that froze his insides.

Zach just saw them—what did he see? How long—had he been there all along?

Shit.

Jude's brain shut down.

Holy f**k.