Disclaimer:
The normal disclaimer, blah blah blah
Summary: Alex is bothering Nick when he's trying to play the keyboard.
Notes: possiblyana helped me with my layout, so I wrote this at her request. Bon appetit!
Dancing... playing... screaming... every gig is the same. I thought I should maybe liven it up a bit. So, when Nick was moving over to his keyboard, I decided to follow him, and tried to put my chin on his shoulder. I was entirely unprepared for him to smack me on the nose, as if I was a dog that had done something bad. It was uncalled for, too. In a strange way, it made me want the little tease even more.
But how to get him?
Obviously conventional tactics weren’t going to work. I was going to have to make him jealous. And jealousy is most effective when it’s directed against someone close to home. And Bob was right there on the other side of the stage, his brow furrowed with concentration. I swung my guitar around to face him, and strutted forwards towards him. He looked up at me in surprise, eyes flickering across to Nick, then back to me, and then he half joined me in my dance.
I grinned at him, lowering my eyelids slightly, just enough to hint at something that he wouldn’t be sure of until later. When I looked back at Nick, he was scowling at me. No, I was wrong, he was scowling at Bob. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Things were definitely going to be more appealing offstage tonight.
I was on auto-pilot through the remainder of the gig, my mind already planning how it would go afterwards. Bob would head outside for a fag – to ‘calm his nerves’ (and would end up with an entirely different sort of fag), and Nick would go for a shower then wander outside a while later. But I’d be there first, with Bob. Maybe Nick would catch us, and then who knew what would happen? We finished the encore, bowed and departed, Nick very pointedly ignoring both Bob and myself, apart from one slip when I heard him hiss, “Dog!” I allowed myself the liberty of a small smirk (‘Dog’? Honestly.) and followed our adorable young bassist outside, feeling Nick’s eyes burning into the back of my neck.
Bob was already lighting up when I caught up with him. I put one arm on either side of him, leaning on the wall. “What?” he asked, confused.
“Put it out; it’s a disgusting habit. And I’m sure we could find some much more interesting things for your mouth to do.” I pulled the cigarette from between his lips, crushed it beneath one of my feet, and pressed my mouth hungrily to his, applying just enough pressure to let him know I was in charge. “See?”
“You’re just trying to make Nick jealous.”
“So?”
He didn’t answer, just grabbed my head and pulled me back in. Eager little chap, who was I to refuse him? I started to untuck his shirt, sliding my cold hands underneath so he writhed, torn between getting away from the uncomfortable cold and staying with his warm tongue exploring my mouth. I knew he’d stay, and he did, letting me entwine my fingers into his hair and put my other hand on his hip, pulling him even closer until his hipbones were pressing into mine and I could feel the bulge of his cock, larger than you would’ve thought.
As our groins collided, he made a small sound of pleasure; a gasp that was hardly there, but in the cold night air it echoed, loud enough for anyone passing to hear. “Alex! Oh... God!”
I was semi-aware of someone approaching from behind us, and then I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from him, and I recognised Nick’s hair, still sweaty from the performance. He hadn’t showered after all. How long had he been watching, I wondered. Certainly long enough for him to see what I wanted him to.
Poor Bob didn’t even have the chance to get his hands up to protect himself; Nick’s attack came out of nowhere, a right hook almost taking him down with the first blow. He recovered enough to block Nick’s next punch, and even return a few of his own, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to hold out for much longer, so I stepped in, shoving Nick sideways and giving Bob a chance to get away, which he took without a backward glance for me.
Nick turned his attention to me. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he growled, swinging at me. I half-blocked the punch, but noticed – too late – that his foot (still encased in pointy shoe) was headed directly for my shin. Instinctively, I hit back, slapping him smartly across the mouth and nose, blood slowly dripping out of him, and then I realised I was bleeding too, from the half-punch he’d got me with. And that just wasn’t on. I hit him again, harder, and he hit me back.
I felt one of my teeth crack underneath his knuckles, and I pushed him, firmly, until he was against the wall. Then we paused, eyes staring, not wanting break the contact, trying to work out what the other would do next. It was a battle of wills that I wasn’t prepared to lose – and I didn’t. He gave in first, let his eyes drop, and then he kissed me, sloppy, lusting kisses, and I flinched whenever his tongue touched the tooth he’d broken only moments before.
Then his hands were in my trousers, and I bucked my hips towards him. “Right here?” I asked quietly, still surprised at how loudly my voice echoed in the alley.
He nodded, his hair flopping into those eyes that were darkened by desire. “Fuck me, Alexander.” He licked the side of my neck, scraping his teeth across my throat.
I was suddenly unsure. He had somehow turned this to his advantage. “But I don’t have any –”
“Do I look like I mind?” he asked, pulling my trousers down as I pulled down his, my hands working of their own accord. “I just,” he began, pulling me closer as the pitch of his voice dropped, “want to feel you in me.” Nick was panting harder now, the muscles twitching under his skin. His nails dug into my skin, drawing more blood to the surface, and I did the same to him, squeezing tighter until he cried out, curving forwards.
I braced myself, braced him with my hands on his hips, and thrust deep, ignoring his cry of pain. The transition from to cold to hot, delicious heat was almost too much for me to take, and I had to pause, gather myself for the second push, all the time aware that I was hurting him. But I had him, he was mine to command. “Fucking... fuck,” he gasped, voice choked like he was crying. “Oh... Alex... fuck! God! Fuck!”
“Nick... fuck! Fuck... God! Nick! Oh God! Fuck!” I was equally coherent, getting closer and closer, his muscles clenching around me in pain and I hoped some enjoyment too. “Fuck!” I almost howled as I spasmed, coming into him. He threw his head back, close too, but I couldn’t help him, and he had to finish himself off, one hand supporting him against the wall.
With shaking hands, I pulled my trousers up again, fumbling against the cold and the residual tremors of my orgasm to do up the button. Nick was still virtually immobile, but I could see his deep breathing, erratic still. After a minute or so, he too got his trousers back up and tried to make himself a bit more presentable.
“You said this wouldn’t happen again,” I said to his back, inexplicably grinning.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” he replied, turning to look at me, a tired but happy smile on his face. “Just don’t bother me when I’m trying to play next time.”
“You love it really.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“And stop getting Bob involved, this is meant to be a relationship we’re having here.” He pushed my hair from my eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay. Are you sure about leaving Bob out? He might get lonely.” I smirked, flirting with him. “You don’t want to upset him, you know, he’s very sensitive.”
He kissed me. “Shut up.”
Summary: Alex is bothering Nick when he's trying to play the keyboard.
Notes: possiblyana helped me with my layout, so I wrote this at her request. Bon appetit!
Dancing... playing... screaming... every gig is the same. I thought I should maybe liven it up a bit. So, when Nick was moving over to his keyboard, I decided to follow him, and tried to put my chin on his shoulder. I was entirely unprepared for him to smack me on the nose, as if I was a dog that had done something bad. It was uncalled for, too. In a strange way, it made me want the little tease even more.
But how to get him?
Obviously conventional tactics weren’t going to work. I was going to have to make him jealous. And jealousy is most effective when it’s directed against someone close to home. And Bob was right there on the other side of the stage, his brow furrowed with concentration. I swung my guitar around to face him, and strutted forwards towards him. He looked up at me in surprise, eyes flickering across to Nick, then back to me, and then he half joined me in my dance.
I grinned at him, lowering my eyelids slightly, just enough to hint at something that he wouldn’t be sure of until later. When I looked back at Nick, he was scowling at me. No, I was wrong, he was scowling at Bob. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Things were definitely going to be more appealing offstage tonight.
I was on auto-pilot through the remainder of the gig, my mind already planning how it would go afterwards. Bob would head outside for a fag – to ‘calm his nerves’ (and would end up with an entirely different sort of fag), and Nick would go for a shower then wander outside a while later. But I’d be there first, with Bob. Maybe Nick would catch us, and then who knew what would happen? We finished the encore, bowed and departed, Nick very pointedly ignoring both Bob and myself, apart from one slip when I heard him hiss, “Dog!” I allowed myself the liberty of a small smirk (‘Dog’? Honestly.) and followed our adorable young bassist outside, feeling Nick’s eyes burning into the back of my neck.
Bob was already lighting up when I caught up with him. I put one arm on either side of him, leaning on the wall. “What?” he asked, confused.
“Put it out; it’s a disgusting habit. And I’m sure we could find some much more interesting things for your mouth to do.” I pulled the cigarette from between his lips, crushed it beneath one of my feet, and pressed my mouth hungrily to his, applying just enough pressure to let him know I was in charge. “See?”
“You’re just trying to make Nick jealous.”
“So?”
He didn’t answer, just grabbed my head and pulled me back in. Eager little chap, who was I to refuse him? I started to untuck his shirt, sliding my cold hands underneath so he writhed, torn between getting away from the uncomfortable cold and staying with his warm tongue exploring my mouth. I knew he’d stay, and he did, letting me entwine my fingers into his hair and put my other hand on his hip, pulling him even closer until his hipbones were pressing into mine and I could feel the bulge of his cock, larger than you would’ve thought.
As our groins collided, he made a small sound of pleasure; a gasp that was hardly there, but in the cold night air it echoed, loud enough for anyone passing to hear. “Alex! Oh... God!”
I was semi-aware of someone approaching from behind us, and then I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from him, and I recognised Nick’s hair, still sweaty from the performance. He hadn’t showered after all. How long had he been watching, I wondered. Certainly long enough for him to see what I wanted him to.
Poor Bob didn’t even have the chance to get his hands up to protect himself; Nick’s attack came out of nowhere, a right hook almost taking him down with the first blow. He recovered enough to block Nick’s next punch, and even return a few of his own, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to hold out for much longer, so I stepped in, shoving Nick sideways and giving Bob a chance to get away, which he took without a backward glance for me.
Nick turned his attention to me. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he growled, swinging at me. I half-blocked the punch, but noticed – too late – that his foot (still encased in pointy shoe) was headed directly for my shin. Instinctively, I hit back, slapping him smartly across the mouth and nose, blood slowly dripping out of him, and then I realised I was bleeding too, from the half-punch he’d got me with. And that just wasn’t on. I hit him again, harder, and he hit me back.
I felt one of my teeth crack underneath his knuckles, and I pushed him, firmly, until he was against the wall. Then we paused, eyes staring, not wanting break the contact, trying to work out what the other would do next. It was a battle of wills that I wasn’t prepared to lose – and I didn’t. He gave in first, let his eyes drop, and then he kissed me, sloppy, lusting kisses, and I flinched whenever his tongue touched the tooth he’d broken only moments before.
Then his hands were in my trousers, and I bucked my hips towards him. “Right here?” I asked quietly, still surprised at how loudly my voice echoed in the alley.
He nodded, his hair flopping into those eyes that were darkened by desire. “Fuck me, Alexander.” He licked the side of my neck, scraping his teeth across my throat.
I was suddenly unsure. He had somehow turned this to his advantage. “But I don’t have any –”
“Do I look like I mind?” he asked, pulling my trousers down as I pulled down his, my hands working of their own accord. “I just,” he began, pulling me closer as the pitch of his voice dropped, “want to feel you in me.” Nick was panting harder now, the muscles twitching under his skin. His nails dug into my skin, drawing more blood to the surface, and I did the same to him, squeezing tighter until he cried out, curving forwards.
I braced myself, braced him with my hands on his hips, and thrust deep, ignoring his cry of pain. The transition from to cold to hot, delicious heat was almost too much for me to take, and I had to pause, gather myself for the second push, all the time aware that I was hurting him. But I had him, he was mine to command. “Fucking... fuck,” he gasped, voice choked like he was crying. “Oh... Alex... fuck! God! Fuck!”
“Nick... fuck! Fuck... God! Nick! Oh God! Fuck!” I was equally coherent, getting closer and closer, his muscles clenching around me in pain and I hoped some enjoyment too. “Fuck!” I almost howled as I spasmed, coming into him. He threw his head back, close too, but I couldn’t help him, and he had to finish himself off, one hand supporting him against the wall.
With shaking hands, I pulled my trousers up again, fumbling against the cold and the residual tremors of my orgasm to do up the button. Nick was still virtually immobile, but I could see his deep breathing, erratic still. After a minute or so, he too got his trousers back up and tried to make himself a bit more presentable.
“You said this wouldn’t happen again,” I said to his back, inexplicably grinning.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” he replied, turning to look at me, a tired but happy smile on his face. “Just don’t bother me when I’m trying to play next time.”
“You love it really.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“And stop getting Bob involved, this is meant to be a relationship we’re having here.” He pushed my hair from my eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay. Are you sure about leaving Bob out? He might get lonely.” I smirked, flirting with him. “You don’t want to upset him, you know, he’s very sensitive.”
He kissed me. “Shut up.”
