In Pieces continues as Ryan hears Salvation play for the first time. What the heck is church metal? Join us and find out! Then don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they're up to. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
Ryan had never heard a sound quite so glorious in his entire
life. The single note was plaintive and
yet intense. As Ben’s voice began to rise in tone, the sound flowed around him
and through him. It seemed to penetrate into the depths of Ryan’s soul, to
places that had been untouched for a very long time. He couldn’t explain the
feeling, but neither did he attempt to fight it. Rather, he embraced it.
He couldn’t keep from staring at Ben as he sang. Ben’s eyes
had closed, an expression of utter serenity suffusing his face. Ryan thought he
looked almost like an angelic choir boy.
Paradoxically, the single note was sensuous and enticing, producing an
almost palpable ache inside of Ryan which was a far cry from angelic.
Ben’s acapella solo continued for close to half a minute
before being joined by the voices of the other members of the band. “Glorioso,” they sang. “Glorioso luminos.” The
rich harmonies soared for maybe another thirty seconds, and then the keyboard
made its entrance, followed by the lead guitar.
Ryan closed his own eyes and floated bonelessly on waves of
pure pleasure. Salvation’s music evoked a myriad of images both religious and
irreligious. In his mind’s eyes, he saw a lofty buttressed cathedral filled
with rows of priests, knelt in prayer. Ethereal angels descended from on high above
them. They struck provocative poses, enticing the priests from their orisons.
The angels were all male, and they were all most gloriously endowed. Priests and angels began a seductive dance to
the music which swirled about them, shedding clothes along with inhibitions.
Ryan was both fascinated and shocked by what his mind had conceived. His hand began to reach down to assuage a
growing ache…
With a start, he snapped his eyes open to find Ben’s
piercing blue gaze fixed upon him. At that moment, a short burst of drum beats announced
Abby’s entrance into the fray, a sound which was echoed by Keanu’s throbbing
bass guitar. And suddenly Ryan understood why they called it church metal. This
was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard, an erotic combination of piety and
sensuality. He’d become so absorbed in what he was listening to that he’d almost
forgotten himself to the point of wanting to masturbate in public. One look at
Ben, and Ryan knew he understood completely.
Ryan brought his thoughts and his breathing under control as
the song continued. It was the story of an angel and a priest, and it spoke of
innocent sins and wanton desires and passions. If this song was indicative of
what Salvation could do, Ryan had no doubt this group would go far.
The song ended with a flourish and then died away. Ryan
could have kept listening for much longer, given the opportunity. No one said
anything. Ryan realized with a start they were looking for some sort of
reaction from him.
“That was amazing,” he said honestly. The momentary tension
dissipated, and everything was at it was before. Ryan glanced at Ben, and was surprised to
catch a flash of uncertainty in his beautiful blue eyes. Without thinking, Ryan
held out his hand toward him. Ben leapt off the stage and grasped it.
“Did you really like it?” Ben sounded almost shy.
“Like it? I loved it.
That song… your voice… everything was…” For being a writer, Ryan found himself unexpectedly
at a loss for words. “I’ve never heard
anything like that. I can’t wait to hear more.”
Ryan’s words seemed to relieve Ben. His sunny smile
returned, his cheeks more than a little flushed. “I’m glad you liked it, Ryan,”
he said. “That was the first one I wrote. I’m kind of partial to it.”
“You… you wrote that?” Ryan was even more impressed than he
was before. “I didn’t know…I had no idea you wrote music.”
“You probably don’t remember, but I wrote poetry when I was
younger, back in the day. Lyrics are just poems set to music.”
That’s right. He remembered now. How could he have forgotten
Ben’s lush poetry? They’d read them together in their room in the middle of the
night. Ben hadn’t wanted his mother to see what he’d written, so those became
private moments between Ben and him.
“I still have some of your poetry, actually,” Ryan said. “I
always thought it was beautiful.”
Ben pinked even more. “We have a lot to catch up on, don’t
we?” he said, dropping his voice.
Ryan swayed toward Ben, tempted to kiss him, wanting to kiss
him so badly he could taste his desire for Ben. How could he have ever doubted
his feelings for Ben had changed? He’d kept them alive all through their
separation, and now they were as strong as ever. The difference was that now
there was no one who could separate them ever again.
But he was paradoxically aware that they were far from
alone. And much as it pained him to do so, he forced himself to put on the
brakes, to slow himself down. Then he remembered they were sharing a room.
Their time would come. Later.
“We do,” he said. “I should
probably grab my laptop and my camera and get to work. I can get some pictures
of you while you rehearse. Some behind the scenes stuff. I thought I’d talk to
everyone individually get some background. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds like a great
idea. Go get your stuff. We’re not going anywhere.”
For a second, Ryan thought Ben
might initiate a kiss, and he felt his own lips part involuntarily. But then
Ben turned back toward the band, the moment had passed, and Ryan seized the
opportunity to head back toward the main house.
to be continued
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