Intimate Secrets

The next three months or so passed pretty quickly, and before they knew it, Black Veil Brides were playing one of the last few shows of their Spring AP Tour. On the day of May sixth, they were playing the House of Blues in Clevland, Ohio, which wasn’t very far away from where Andy’d grown up. Everybody knew that, before they flew back to LA until the two shows they were playing for Rock on the Range 2011 in Columbus, the baby of the band was going to take some time to see his parents again.

Ash was still pretty depressed and having an inner war with himself about whether to tell him about his feelings or not, but knew better than to do so when he was excited to see his parents again. Chris and Amy Biersack were like surrogate parents of his own, but due to their devout Catholicism, he didn’t want to alienate them by telling their son how he really felt.

He planned to go out and get so drunk that he couldn’t see or walk straight and had to be rescued from whatever bar he passed out in by one of his bandmates. It was getting to the point that he wanted to quit the band just so he wouldn’t have to see the frontman day after day while they were touring, or have to work with him in the studio ever again. But he couldn’t let his friends, his brothers, and their fans down by doing something so narcissistic. If he gave in because of something that could easily be overcome, whether he told the truth or kept it secret, that would project the opposite message that BVB was trying to send to their fans.

“You okay, Ash?” Jinxx asked, sitting down on the couch beside him. The rest of the guys were getting ready at the venue, but they’d chosen to get ready on the bus.

“Just wishing I had the guts to tell Andy,” he sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest.

“Personally, I think you should just say ‘Fuck it, I’m telling him’, and get it over with,” the multi-instrumentalist said.

“You know why I don’t wanna do that,” Ash argued. “And now that we’re so close to his old stomping grounds and he plans to visit his parents? They’re like surrogate parents to me, and I don’t wanna alienate them.”

“And what if he feels the same? What if they don’t give a shit, so long as he’s happy?” he countered.

“I doubt he feels the same and, even as open-minded as they appear, I’m not so sure Chris and Amy could tolerate their son being gay because of their devout Catholicism,” the bassist said.

“Sometimes you just have to take a few risks in life, man,” he told him, patting his shoulder.

“True. Maybe I’ll tell him tonight, whether I get drunk or not.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “We’ll see, though.”

“At least you’re considering it. That’s all I wanted, so I’m happy.” Jinxx dragged him into his arms for a supportive hug. “You know I love you like a brother, just like I do the rest of the guys. I’m sick of seeing you so miserable and just wanna see you happy.”

“I know, Jinxx. It’s just hard to figure out if and when I wanna come clean, now that I’ve come to terms with my feelings,” Ash admitted.

Nodding his understanding, the multi-instrumentalist headed back to the bathroom to get his makeup on and his hair done before getting dressed while the bassist did his hair and makeup. War paint was too easy to apply, and even with that, he didn’t take nearly as long, so that could wait until almost the last minute. Once he w-as done with the bathroom, he called out that it was free for use.

Sighing once again, Ash rose from his spot on the couch and grabbed the clothes he’d picked out earlier, glad he’d decided to forego underwear when he wormed his way into his jeans. They were almost too tight to handle as they were, and definitely would’ve murdered his balls if he’d chosen to wear boxers under them. After his jeans were on, he pulled on one of the many leather vests he owned, making sure it was open so it exposed the “OUTLAW” tattoo arching over his navel.

With his clothes on, it was time to get his makeup and war paint on, which took the longest besides his hair since there were so many lines that he wanted to be perfect. That, and he wanted the black circles around his eyes to be perfect, too, and that wasn’t including the many layers of white paint he had to start out with to make his face paler. In comparison to the rest of the guys, he was so tan that he looked like he spent every day in the sun, and it only darkened when he did get extended time in it. But that was part and parcel of being part Cherokee, something he couldn’t help, so he merely shrugged at his appearance before tackling the monster that was his makeup and war paint.

Once he had it on and was waiting for it to dry, he called Jinxx back into the bathroom to put on his own war paint in the meantime. He had enough time between waiting for it to dry and starting on his hair for the multi-instrumentalist to finish getting ready, and besides, he didn’t take nearly as long. Once he was done and ready to go, Jinxx headed to the venue just down the street while Ash teased his hair to perfection, then added a star necklace around his neck. After deeming himself perfect made up and painted, he grabbed a handful of extra picks and headed to the venue himself.

“Good evening, mother fuckers!” Andy screamed into the mic a short time later. “Are you ready to rock the fucking roof off this place tonight?”

The crowd screamed in excitement as a shiver travelled down the bassist’s spine.

“Glad to hear it! This is Knives and Pens!” he screamed.

Guitar, bass, and drum lines started as the frontman awaited his cue, and once it arrived, he dove into the song with perfection. He’d written it about his teenage years, when he was bullied mercilessly for countless things that weren’t true, and how one could choose to be creative or destructive when going through the same things. Ash admired him for having chosen to be creative rather than destructive during such a time.

By the end of the show, which they closed with Heaven’s Calling, his head was beginning to hurt again. He had no idea why he was getting so many migraines lately, but he supposed it was the stress of touring combined with the stress of hiding his feelings. To be honest, he acted like he was drinking as much as he had been three months ago, but he really wasn’t because of these blasted migraines. Unless he wanted to end up hospitalized for them, he really couldn’t drink nearly as much, because if he did, he’d probably wind up pouring his brains out his ears in his sleep.

Once again pleading a headache to get out of a meet-and-greet, much to the disappointment of fans, he headed back to the bus. In the bathroom at the very back, he stripped down and started the shower, knowing it’d be better than going to bed covered in makeup and war paint. He sighed as he stepped in, the hot water feeling Heavenly on his chilled skin, and started scrubbing at himself vigorously. He stayed in the shower so long that his skin was pink and raw by the time he got out.

“Oww,” he groaned softly, pressing a hand to the side of his head as he stumbled into the bunk room for his pajamas. “Fuck it…I want something to dull the pain.”

That said, he quickly pulled on his pajama bottoms, not giving a damn that he was still running around commando under them, and made his way to the kitchenette. Standing in front of the sink, he grabbed the bottle of Jack he’d hidden in the back of the freezer and a glass, unsure of how much he’d actually drink tonight. Ash chose to use a glass for once in the hopes of limiting how much he drank, but he doubted it would work. He didn’t want his headache to be worse when he awoke in the morning, but he knew how he could be when alcohol was involved. He usually chose to forego a glass altogether, or forgot he was even using one once he’d consumed enough alcohol.

“Yo, Ash!” one of the guys called out as he settled into his bed.

“He must not be on the bus,” another said, not seeing his personal effects, which he’d hidden tonight, on the kitchen counter.

“Must not be,” a third agreed. “His keys and wallet aren’t on the counter.”

“You guys go check the local bars. I’ll check the bus and stay on it if he’s not here, just in case he comes back.” The last voice belonged to Andy.

“All right. Just stay out of trouble yourself, youngin’,” CC joked. Aside from Ash, he was the oldest, while Andy was the youngest.

“Christian,” the baby growled.

“Andrew,” the drummer returned.

“Just go. We’re wasting time that we could be using to find him if he’s not on the bus.”

Everything fell silent, and he imagined the rest of the guys were nodding their agreement as they headed back off the bus. With a sigh, Andy closed the door behind them, making sure it was locked until he knew whether or not the “missing” bassist was on board or not. Ash heard him approaching the bunk room, knowing that was the most likely place he’d find him if he was indeed on board.

By this point, he’d drank at least a quarter of the Jack, which had been an brand-new, unopened bottle when he’d pulled it out of the freezer. It was pretty obvious that he was buzzing pretty well, if anyone knew his habits, and he knew that the man he loved would realize he was drunk. He chuckled softly at the thought, but the sound drew the frontman’s attention to his bunk, and seconds later, the curtain was opened to reveal him. He didn’t care, though; in his drunken state, he was considering telling him how he felt, despite the disapproving scowl on his face.

“I thought you said you had a headache,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I did…till I started drinking,” Ash answered, already slurring a bit.

“You realize that’s just gonna make it worse in the morning, right?” the frontman asked, now tapping his foot, too.

“Do I look like I care?” Ash shot back.

Andy merely shook his head, then grabbed the bottle, much to his protest. “Relax, I’m only have a couple swigs myself so you don’t get in trouble for giving alcohol to someone underage.”

Once those words registered, he realized that it was a mistake to let him drink at all. Not because, as he’d said, he was underage since he was only twenty, but because anything could happen while they were both drunk, and they might not remember it the next morning. There was nothing he could do to stop him, though, as the young frontman tilted the bottle up and knocked back another quarter of its contents in two long gulps, then lowered it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Before long, he’d gotten just drunk enough to start telling Ash all the things he’d wanted to hear for months, but he knew that, in his drunken state, they might not be true. And even though he should’ve, he couldn’t find the strength or will to stop him when he pressed their lips together, which ended up leading to far more. It was a dream come true for him, and he didn’t care what happened.

At the end of the night, when the rest of the guys finally returned from their search and decided to check the bunk room for themselves, the bassist was passed out in his own bunk while Andy lay below him in Jinxx’s. With a sigh, the multi-instrumentalist grabbed a trash can and put it on the floor next to his head, hoping he wasn’t so drunk that he threw up in his sleep, and shuddered when he realized he was naked. Other than that, they got no reaction as the rest of the guys showered and got dressed for bed, then crawled into their own bunks for the night.

* * *

The following morning, Ash surprisingly woke up without a hangover. The only pain he felt was the pain in his ass and lower back, which clued him in to what’d happened the night before. He vaguely remembered Andy telling him that he loved him, not like a brother but like a lover, and had loved him in such a manner for months. It was pretty obvious that, in their drunken state, he’d taken it up the ass for the first time in years, and his eyes widened in fear.

No one knew that he’d been born with a female’s reproductive tract in addition to that of a male, as it was something he himself hadn’t known until a few years ago. He’d found out back when he still worked in the porn industry that he was born like that because, after doing a scene with another man, he’d found himself pregnant. He hadn’t known at first that’s what was causing the unbearable nausea every day, and specialized doctors had finally managed to get to the bottom of the mystery. Upon being told that news, he refused to do anymore scenes with men so he wouldn’t have to go through such a thing again.

That had been the first and only time he’d slept with a man in his life until last night. In their drunken states, he knew damn well he’d let all notions of protection fly out the window, and Andy likely hadn’t thought anything of it, either. Honestly, why would a guy if the man he was sleeping with was supposedly a normal male, one who didn’t have both genders' reproductive tracts?

Shaking with his fear, Ash crawled out of his bunk, nearly tripping over the trash can in the floor by Jinxx’s bunk, where his lover’d crashed the night before. Cursing softly, he managed to regain his balance and headed for the bathroom, where he started a cold shower. It wasn’t because he needed to calm down raging morning wood like he usually did when taking a cold shower; no, he needed the chill to make sure this was reality and not some sick dream his mind was making him have. Even though his physical pain screamed at him that it was no dream, his mind was so shaken up that it didn’t want to believe it. He figured a cold shower was the perfect tool to get his brain in gear.

“Oh, my Godsmack!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling like his throat was swelling shut as the icy water poured over him.

“You okay in there, Ash?” Jinxx asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

“C-cold…sh-shower!” the bassist stuttered, his teeth chattering.

“Well, can I at least come in long enough to piss?” he asked, chuckling.

“Y-yeah!”

“Thanks, man.”

Neither one looked at the other while they were taking care of business, despite the shower door being made of frosted glass. Moments later, the multi-instrumentalist left the bathroom, telling him to flush the toilet when he was done. Ash told him that was fine, and he sighed as he heard the bathroom door click shut behind his friend.

He wasted no time in washing the remnants of last night’s activities from his body, which included a bit of blood since Andy’d obviously gone in dry. How the Hell he hadn’t felt any kind of pain from that the previous night was beyond him, since his pain tolerance was typically nill when he was drunk. Still, he shrugged it off and chose to carry on with his day as if it were like any other, and decided not to mention anything to the young frontman. He didn’t want to remind him of anything he’d rather forget, and he probably hadn’t even meant to tell him those things, much less sleep with him, anyway.

After his cold shower, he made haste with drying off and getting dressed, that way he wasn’t taking up the bathroom when someone else got up. By the time he made it to the living area, he was still shivering from the chill of the water and Jinxx even said his lips were a bit blue. He wrapped himself up in a warm blanket after sitting down on the couch, thanking the multi-instrumentalist when he handed him a piping hot cup of coffee to help warm him up.

Since he was so good at hiding what was on his mind anyway, hiding last night’s goings-on was nothing, even once Andy was up. He merely kept his mouth shut and went through his morning like it was no different than any other, even though he was itching to get off that bus and back into his own apartment. Thankfully, it was only a couple hours before they headed to the airport to catch their flight back home, and thankfully, he already knew he was sandwiched between Jake and Jinxx on said flight. The man he loved and their drummer were going to be a couple rows back, so he wouldn’t have to deal with looking at him the entire time. That was the only thing that even remotely calmed him, although he knew this was just the calm before the storm.

Notes