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Beautiful Disaster

Twenty year old Corey Evans is one-half of 2ICE, the biggest duo on the radio at the moment. Pronounced twice, they're number one on the Billboard charts this week with their latest single. And number one in download sales, with two albums that have already gone platinum, to hear their manager tell it. And currently on their second U.S. tour, which has sold out stadiums across the nation.<br><br>Despite this, there's an emptiness inside him which Corey can't seem to fill, no matter how many groupies he takes to his bed. He sees this same emptiness mirrored in the eyes of his band-mate, Ian Coltraine, who drowns his evenings after each show with a bottle of whiskey. Ian's the one Corey turns to when he wakes beside an unknown fan, still asleep in his bed and needs help evicting her. He's Corey best friend, the only person on the tour he can confide in, who he really trusts ...<br><br>The one, Corey finally realizes, with whom he is madly, deeply, terribly in love. And he suspects Ian might feel the same.<br><br>But his recent string of one-night stands makes Ian cautious about Corey's true feelings. He's wanted Corey for so long, and has watched him go through countless fans in search of ... what? Ian doesn't know. And he doesn't yet believe Corey when he says Ian might be it. Ian hopes so, but can't bring himself to believe Corey's fickle desire won't be gone in the morning.<br><br>Can these two young men somehow move beyond Corey's past and Ian's pain to embrace a love they both so desperately desire?

J.M. Snyder · LGBT+
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43 Chs

Chapter 37

Corey stepped back and took Ian’s hands in his. “The bed,” he whispered, leading him into the room.

At the edge of the bed, Corey stopped to claim another kiss. Expert hands eased beneath Ian’s shirt, rolling it up to expose heated flesh, and Corey let his fingers trace the outline of Ian’s muscles. Ian gasped at the touch. Pulling the shirt over Ian’s head, Corey licked the hollow of Ian’s throat as he hugged him close. He kissed his way up Ian’s throat, over the bobbing Adam’s apple, up under the smooth chin toward those tender lips. As Ian shook free of his shirt, Corey sat back onto the bed, pulling Ian down with him. Ian straddled his legs, and Corey raised one knee to press against Ian’s crotch. Ian moaned and ground his hips, humping Corey’s legs.

“Now,” he whispered, tugging at Corey’s sweater in his haste.