Touch
.03
Nikki woke up with a start, clutching the table. A dull headache was already starting, the morning light streaming through into the bus. Nikki stumbled as he pulled himself out of the booth and went back to the beds, the guys all sleeping.
Carefully, Nikki put his foot on Mick's bed and hoisted himself up onto his own, pressing himself back against the wall. Vince's curtain was now open, giving a full view of that beautiful body wrapped in the sheets. Nikki licked his lips and quickly drew his curtain shut, pressing the back of his head against the wall. That was the second time this week he had dreamed of almost getting it on with Vince.
What the fuck was his problem?
Nikki was not gay. At least, he didn't think he was.
Now? Now he wasn't sure.
All he was absolutely sure of was wanting Vince.
Nikki's mind began to wander to their show two nights ago. The way Vince pulled his shirt off slowly, the howls of the girls in the crowd buzzing through the arena. He remembered the way Vince's gloved hand slowly trailed over his tan abdomen, setting the place on fire with whistles.
Nikki bit his lip, drawing blood, as he realized he was gripping the hem of his pants. He whimpered as he remembered pressing himself to Vince during a song, watching as the sweat trailed from the blonde head.
He pushed his pants down around his ankles and tried to breathe deep through his nose, watching his erection spring out. Damn.
And then he remembered something he had almost completely forgotten. Vince moaning.
After the show, Tommy had gone off in search of a restaurant. Mick was onstage downing a bottle of liquor. And Vince...
Nikki had been wandering the halls of the backstage area, trying to find something to freaking do while the crew packed up the stage. And then he heard Vince moaning from behind a closed door. He had found some hot broad to blow him. And it was that moan that had stopped Nikki in his tracks, his blood running cold.
Back in the reality of his bed, Nikki lost it. He gripped the sheet on his bed with one hand while letting his legs spread as far as his pants would let him, grabbing himself with his other. He kept pumping himself while biting back the moan forming in his throat. He kept repeating that noise in his head until he came, panting.
When the bus pulled into the arena, Nikki thought it best to give himself some space from the guys. He was still grossed out by the thought that he had jerked off, actually jerked off, to the thought of one of his best friends. Maybe when the tour ended he would go to therapy, or check himself into the hospital or some shit. It was obvious he needed help.
Nikki spent two hours wandering aimlessly around the backstage area before he was found by a security guy and told he needed to get his butt to the stage for soundcheck. Nikki blew locks of hair out of his face before walking onstage. Vince was adjusting the microphone stand. Mick was already strumming his guitar. Tommy wasn't there yet.
Nikki took his good old time to do absolutely nothing. Not like they could do much, what with Tommy still MIA. Instead, Nikki took out a cigarette and lit it, blowing out the smoke. Vince had decided to sit down on the platform raising the drum set off the stage. Mick was still lazily strumming his guitar.
“Hey,” someone behind the curtain squeaked. Nikki and Vince both looked over at the same time. A nerdy-looking kid was standing there in a security shirt. He was obviously intimidated by the guys. He wrung his hands nervously, pointing a finger at Nikki before letting his arm drop back by his side.
“Y-you can't do that on the stage.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Because,” the kid squeaked again. “You just can't.”
“I smoke indoors all the time.”
“Well, here you can't. So, just, put it out. Okay?” Nikki shot a deadly look at the kid. “Please?” he asked.
Nikki sighed, flicking ashes off towards the floor where the crowd would be standing in a couple hours.
“Where's Tommy?” Nikki nearly hissed, putting his cigarette up to his lips.
Vince stared over at Nikki while Mick shrugged.
“Hey!”
Nikki turned again to find an older, fatter, balding security guy standing next to the scared punk.
“You can't smoke in here.”
“So I've been told,” Nikki said, rolling his eyes.
“Put it out. Now.”
At that moment, Tommy pushed through the security out onto the stage. He stopped and stared at Nikki, before storming over and ripping the cigarette from between his lips, stomping it out on the stage. Nikki glowered as Tommy turned back to Fatso, arms spread wide.
“Happy?” Tommy snapped. He gave Nikki another look before stalking off towards his drums.
Carefully, Nikki put his foot on Mick's bed and hoisted himself up onto his own, pressing himself back against the wall. Vince's curtain was now open, giving a full view of that beautiful body wrapped in the sheets. Nikki licked his lips and quickly drew his curtain shut, pressing the back of his head against the wall. That was the second time this week he had dreamed of almost getting it on with Vince.
What the fuck was his problem?
Nikki was not gay. At least, he didn't think he was.
Now? Now he wasn't sure.
All he was absolutely sure of was wanting Vince.
Nikki's mind began to wander to their show two nights ago. The way Vince pulled his shirt off slowly, the howls of the girls in the crowd buzzing through the arena. He remembered the way Vince's gloved hand slowly trailed over his tan abdomen, setting the place on fire with whistles.
Nikki bit his lip, drawing blood, as he realized he was gripping the hem of his pants. He whimpered as he remembered pressing himself to Vince during a song, watching as the sweat trailed from the blonde head.
He pushed his pants down around his ankles and tried to breathe deep through his nose, watching his erection spring out. Damn.
And then he remembered something he had almost completely forgotten. Vince moaning.
After the show, Tommy had gone off in search of a restaurant. Mick was onstage downing a bottle of liquor. And Vince...
Nikki had been wandering the halls of the backstage area, trying to find something to freaking do while the crew packed up the stage. And then he heard Vince moaning from behind a closed door. He had found some hot broad to blow him. And it was that moan that had stopped Nikki in his tracks, his blood running cold.
Back in the reality of his bed, Nikki lost it. He gripped the sheet on his bed with one hand while letting his legs spread as far as his pants would let him, grabbing himself with his other. He kept pumping himself while biting back the moan forming in his throat. He kept repeating that noise in his head until he came, panting.
When the bus pulled into the arena, Nikki thought it best to give himself some space from the guys. He was still grossed out by the thought that he had jerked off, actually jerked off, to the thought of one of his best friends. Maybe when the tour ended he would go to therapy, or check himself into the hospital or some shit. It was obvious he needed help.
Nikki spent two hours wandering aimlessly around the backstage area before he was found by a security guy and told he needed to get his butt to the stage for soundcheck. Nikki blew locks of hair out of his face before walking onstage. Vince was adjusting the microphone stand. Mick was already strumming his guitar. Tommy wasn't there yet.
Nikki took his good old time to do absolutely nothing. Not like they could do much, what with Tommy still MIA. Instead, Nikki took out a cigarette and lit it, blowing out the smoke. Vince had decided to sit down on the platform raising the drum set off the stage. Mick was still lazily strumming his guitar.
“Hey,” someone behind the curtain squeaked. Nikki and Vince both looked over at the same time. A nerdy-looking kid was standing there in a security shirt. He was obviously intimidated by the guys. He wrung his hands nervously, pointing a finger at Nikki before letting his arm drop back by his side.
“Y-you can't do that on the stage.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Because,” the kid squeaked again. “You just can't.”
“I smoke indoors all the time.”
“Well, here you can't. So, just, put it out. Okay?” Nikki shot a deadly look at the kid. “Please?” he asked.
Nikki sighed, flicking ashes off towards the floor where the crowd would be standing in a couple hours.
“Where's Tommy?” Nikki nearly hissed, putting his cigarette up to his lips.
Vince stared over at Nikki while Mick shrugged.
“Hey!”
Nikki turned again to find an older, fatter, balding security guy standing next to the scared punk.
“You can't smoke in here.”
“So I've been told,” Nikki said, rolling his eyes.
“Put it out. Now.”
At that moment, Tommy pushed through the security out onto the stage. He stopped and stared at Nikki, before storming over and ripping the cigarette from between his lips, stomping it out on the stage. Nikki glowered as Tommy turned back to Fatso, arms spread wide.
“Happy?” Tommy snapped. He gave Nikki another look before stalking off towards his drums.