Walk With Me

It's a yet another long day on the road. The second in a row actually, and the never ending rush of bright headlights past the bus window has long since lost any interest to Jay. He can't quite understand how any journey can take so long, but then, he does come from a country that be traversed in little over an hour. Whilst he's not oblivious to the comparative size of the world around him, it still takes him by surprise that they can drive for two days straight without reaching their next destination.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A weight settles on the couch next to him, but Jay doesn't bother tear his eyes away from the road. The thickly accented voices of his band mates' are more than enough to tell them apart by.

"You sound like my grandad, dude." He informs Moose, flicking his nail against the window in absent minded engrossment.

"Eh, at least it's not your wife." The other man chuckles. "Seriously though, what's up?"

"Nothing life changing. Just fucking bored."

"You and me both, man. So what do you propose we do?"

"If I could think of anything, I'd have done it by now."

"Hmmm..." Moose taps his chin contemplatively. "Hey guys!"

Jay starts as his friend yells across the bus, not expecting the sudden raise in volume.

Matt and Padge look up from where they're huddled together in the corner, laptop open in front of them. They've been like that for the last few hours and Jay can't figure out for the life of him what the two of them are doing. They both have headphones clamped firmly over their ears and the only sound is the occasional whispered argument. Part of Jay wonders if they're watching porn together.

"What's up?" Matt says now.

"Where are we tonight?"

"Somewhere in France?"

"So fucking useful."

"Nantes, I think." Padge interjects. "We're not playing 'til tomorrow though."

"Perfect," Moose grins. "Wait here," he turns to Jay and says, before wandering off to his bunk.

"As if I have anything else to do." The bassist mutters.

"What's he going on about now?" Matt asks, looking warily after best friend.

"Beats me," Jay shrugs.

The singer shoots him a strange look before replacing his headphones and turning back to his laptop screen. Padge keeps eye contact a moment later before copying Matt. Jay's left to resume his staring out the bus window. It's started raining.

"Ok, button up man, we're going out tonight." Moose flops back down on the sofa a minute later, a smug smile on his face.

"To a strip club?" Jay asks, arching an eyebrow.

Moose just chuckles. "Better,"

The bassist decides not to question him.

A few hours later they pull up in front of a two star hotel. Matt checks them in and they wander up to their respective hotel rooms. Part of Jay wants nothing more than to sleep, which is ridiculous after a day of such inactivity. He's sharing with Moose though and the drummer pesters him endlessly when he collapses on the bed and announces his plans to just pass out.

"Come on, man, you'll enjoy this I swear."

"I'm enjoying my bed."

"You can sleep when you're dead." Moose leans over and starts tugging at Jay's hands, trying to pull him up. "Or all of tomorrow if you really insist. Right now though, you're coming with me!"

Jay half-heartedly fights for a few more minutes - out of desire to wind his friend up more than to actually stay in the room. After the monotonous day he really does want to go out and besides, he's curious to find out what Moose has planned for them.

A quarter of an hour later, they're walking through the French city's streets, Moose leading the way. It's already dark out, but the street lights cast pools of warm amber over the buildings. Jay's never really been to France before. Sure they've passed through on tour before, but he's never stopped to admire the country.

It may not be as romantic as people make it out to be - not that the bassist has ever really been romantic to begin with - but there is a beauty to the architecture he can appreciate. Intricate stone structures with twisted iron grates across the front of shuttered windows. It's nothing like anything in Wales, or even London.

"Admiring the scenery?" Moose asks, a teasing note to his voice.

Jay huffs and reaches into his jacket pocket for a fag. "May as well. Never been to France before."

"Eh, I went to Disneyland a few times as a kid, but never any of the cities. Give us a smoke?"

"You should have brought your own. And I don't think Disney counts."

Moose laughs. "Probably not. But come on, man. Who's taking you out?"

"I wanted to stay in the hotel."

"Now we both know you're lying. This is gonna be great."

"Fine."

Reluctantly, Jay passed over one of his precious cigarettes, along with a lighter. Moose cups his hands around his mouth and a quick spark illuminates his face.

"Thanks man,"

They continue the walk in silence, both happy to just smoke and drink in this unfamiliar city. Slowly, the old architecture begins to melt into built up tower blocks and over head highways that they're both much more acquainted with. Half an hour of walking later, a stadium comes into view.

"You've dragged me all the way out here for a concert?" Jay raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

With a laugh, Moose drops his fag and crushes it under the toe of his boot. "You don't know who's playing yet."

At the gates, he hands in a pair of printed tickets and they're allowed into the building. It's a huge arena, but it's certainly bigger than any they've ever played themselves. The seats at the backs at already packed - mostly with people in their early twenties adorned with leather jackets and band shirts. Jay scans them, trying to figure out the mysterious act that Moose has brought him out to see. There are no prominent logos he notices, although a surprising amount of the crowd seems to be carrying German flags, or have the three-coloured emblem painted on their cheeks.

"I haven't lost it, have I?" He leans over to ask Moose. "We're definitely in France?"

"Yep!" He friend grins back. He's clearly enjoying this way too much.

"So... The band's German..."

"Well done."

"I really hate you." Jay frowns. The cogs are whirring in his brain but refusing to supply any German bands. He knows Swedish ones, Finnish, Hell even some Polish groups. Unless...

"Hey, what's that band you and Matt are always laughing about? And refusing to fill me and Padge in on, because you're heartless bastards like that?"

Moose's shit-eating smile just grows and he turns away. "You'll see."

Jay's about to retort when the house lights fall and a deep roar fills the stadium as the fans scream their appreciation. The grey curtain obscuring the stage is suddenly lit by flashes that can only come from pyro and a heavy drum beat thuds out from over head. The howl of delight only increases in volume. Then the curtain drops and the place goes to shit.

The bassist only has time to take in three men on stage - a guitarist, a keyboard player and a drummer - before the crowd surges forward. From then on, the only thing Jay can focus on is trying to stay on his feet as the overwhelming music deafens him.

Thankfully, a mosh pit opens right behind him and he fights his way back to join in. He's covered in sweat already, and the crush of bodies around him had been making it hard to breathe. Moose joins him a moment later.

"You've taken me to see [/]Rammstein[/]?" Jay asks incredulously.

The sound Moose makes can only be described as a cackle. "Keep an eye on the stage." Is all he says, before flying into the mosh pit.

The bassist rolls his eyes, but follows willingly. He's kinda missed being in the crowd. As much as he loves playing with [/]Bullet[/], there's something to be said for having no pressure to perform. It's fun just being able to kick back and enjoy the spectacle for yourself.

And that's just the beginning of the show. As it goes on, the pit gets more and more violent and the band's antics get crazier and crazier. There's pyro left, right and centre - the men setting each other and their instruments alight, and once or twice firing flame throwers over the audience. The heat's almost unbearable, and Jay wonders how they can stand to be so close to the fire. In between the flames there are bizarre stunts; random dances on stage, the singer attaching a knife to his microphone and pretending to cut his dick off, a massive pair of metallic wings appearing on his back. By the time they're halfway through the show, Jay had given up on moshing in favour of just watching this crazy sextet.

He jumps when two hands clamp firmly on his shoulders and pulls him back.

"Hey!" He spins around to see Moose laughing at him.

"Having a good time?" The drummer yells over the noise.

"This is fucking mental, man."

"Just wait," Moose smirks and indicates the stage.

Up in front of them, the singer's doing some strange dance - head banging accompanied by some weird chopping movement with his hand, all the while singing gutturally into his microphone. As Jay watches, another man leaps up in front of him and crouches, arse in the air. Jay glances at Moose, alarmed, but the drummer is just grinning mischievously at him, clearly enjoying his reaction. When he turns back around, he sees the singer unbuttoning the back of the other guy's shorts and swinging open a flap to reveal the small man's arse. By this point, Jay's certain he's hallucinating.

The obscenity continues as the singer pulls a dildo from out of his pants (for a split second the Welshman considers the possibility that it's actually the guy's dick) and thrusts into the twitching man in front of him. Jay can't help but wince as he makes a show of pulling in and out roughly. The guy taking it seems to be enjoying the act though...

Behind him, he hears a laugh and looks over to his left, where Moose is staring down at him.

"I assume you knew this was going to happen?"

The drummer nods gleefully. "Only reason I came!"

Jay rolls his eyes and turns back, just in time to see the singer emptying his load onto the people in the front few rows of the crowd. The huge screens to either side of the stage show their faces ranging from disgust to ecstasy - and of course, half of them have their mouths open. Jay laughs as one guy gets a white streak directly in his mouth.

Nothing else in the show quite manages to faze him after that - although the poor man from earlier, whom Jay has established to be the keyboard player, does get 'boiled' in a cooking pot big enough to stand in. After escaping, the blood covered singer proceeds to set the other man on fire.

All in all, it's a great night.

Hours later, sweating and covered in steaks of blood from where one guy's ring had collided with Jay's forehead, the two men emerge from the melee and begin their trip home through the cool, dark streets.

They're both still high on the adrenaline rush and half deaf from the over powering volume. Enthusing over the show as they walk, the drummer leading the way. Soon the other fans from the show disperse out and the ringing in their ears subdues. Their pace slows and voices quiet.

It's Jay who brings up the sex.

"Would you ever do that?" He asks.

"What get fucked up the arse?" Moose guesses his train of thoughts with surprising accuracy.

"No, I mean do a performance like that I guess. Have everyone watch you like that."

"Why? Reckon it'd work in Bullet's set?" The drummer waggles his eyebrows and laughs.

"Definitely. Have Padge bend you over."

"You'd love to see that, you perv'."

Jay pulls a face. "Actually no, that's a disgusting idea. Ok, I'm doing my best to repress that."

Moose laughs again. "I guess." It takes the bassist a moment to realise that his question's being answered. "If it would get me a million quid at the end of it."

"Whore." The other man teases.

"Tell me you wouldn't!"

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for a million!"

"Ah, what it would be to be rich!" Moose exclaims, a far away look on his face. Jay decides not to ask what he's thinking.

A comfortable silence settles over them for a moment or two, then the drummer presents his friend with a question.

"So, did you find it hot?"

Jay's head whips round. "What kind of a question is that?"

"An honest one. Some people do." Moose leers. The bassist wishes he didn't know the man well enough to hear the underlying truth in his words.

"I'm not one of them." And then, because his stupid mouth acquires a mind of it's own and wants to know what his common sense is telling him is best left alone; "Did [/]you[/]?”

"Well, not their performance of it. Let's face it, that's supposed to be funny not hot. But in principle? Yes, it is hot."

Jay takes a moment to digest this information.

"So, you're gay?"

"On occasion. 'Bi' I believe is the word for it. I still very much enjoy pussy."

"Well that's a relief!" The bassist laughs, hoping to break the tension that has settled over them. "Why are you telling me this, anyway?"

"To soften the blow of me asking if I can blow you."

Jay halts in his steps, eyes bulging in disbelief. "You're joking?"

"Nope." Moose grins. He's enjoying this situation far too much for Jay's liking. "Come on, neither of us have got any in months and one little blow job won't hurt anyone. Padge and Matt have been doing it for years."

Jay is finding out way too much about his band mates tonight. Way more than he's comfortable with.

"How do you know?" He asks. His mouth is hanging open and he's sure he looks completely ridiculous.

"It's fairly obvious Jay-Jay. Or are you just that slow?"

"Don't call me that." He thinks for a moment and then realises that really, he should have picked up on the fact that there's more going on between Padge and Matt than 'just friends' a long time ago. "Ok, I'm an idiot."

"Now you get it." Moose laughs. "So, can I blow you or not? You don't even have to reciprocate."

Jay's mouth is suddenly extremely dry. He nods anyway. After all, he's a young man and hasn't got any in many months. And it doesn't mean anything. And if fucking-Matt and fucking-Padge can do it, so can he.

Moose grins and sidesteps in to a convenient alley. Jay follows powerlessly.

Once in the side street, he finds himself leaning back against a cold, slightly slimy wall whilst Moose makes a quick work of his jeans and pants. He's already growing hard, something Moose chuckles at. Before the bassist can formulate a response to the mocking laugh though, his cock his halfway down the other man's throat and all he can stutter out is a choked breath. Moose laughs again. Jay feels it instead of hearing it.

His hands find Moose's hair - still damp with sweat - and grips at them. He's careful not to be to rough. After all, it's the other man calling the shots and Jay doesn't want to piss him off and be left hanging.

The drummer clearly has no intention of doing that.

He sucks greedily at Jay's growing length, moving only slightly and driving the bassist us the wall. It's more than he"s had in months, but still nowhere near enough. He whines in the back of his throat and once again feels Moose laugh. This time the slight vibration goes up his spine and his grip tightens impulsively on the drummer's hair. He gets the hint.

With the other man truly working at it, Jay doesn't last long, no matter how long he may like to. All too soon, he's exploding down Moose's throat and is pleasantly surprised when the drummer swallows a every last drop.

When he pulls back, Jay winces as his sensitive cock hits cold air. His hands release their grip on his locks and reach back to dig at the wet cracks in the bricks behind him.

"Good?" Moose grins, rising to his feet. He's looking only slightly disheveled, but of course, has that cliché string of cum dripping from the side of his mouth. Jay reaches up to wipe it away. He knows he shouldn't really feel this boneless, but the day has suddenly all caught up with him, leaving him sated but exhausted.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

The other man chuckles. "Round and about. Can teach you some time if you want."
Jay know's he's only teasing, yet somehow the words "I may take you up on that," fall from his lips.

Moose looks at him oddly, apparently unable to believe what he'd just heard.

[/]Good,[/] Jay thinks. [/]He's been catching me out all day. Now it can be my turn.[/]

"We'll have to see about that." Moose smiles. Then he shakes his head and goes back to his usual confident, easy going self. "Come on, put yourself away and let's get back to the bus. Unless you fancy walking through Paris with your dick hanging out."

"We're not in Paris, Moose."

"Well, fuck you then."