A Little More Touch Me

Brendon wasn’t a stranger to flirting with and touching Ryan on-stage, but when the roles were reversed he felt oddly shy. Just out of the shower after the night’s show in Chicago, he stood by a table with a towel wrapped around his waist, checking his missed calls on his mobile. It had been gone for three days, only to be found lodged in a crevice at the very back of the tour bus. Should have been relatively easy to find, one could think, but the sound had been turned off – something Brendon did at odd times – so calling it hadn’t really helped.

He hadn’t missed any important calls, it seemed. Friends and family mostly, plus two calls from Pete. Making a mental note to call him back when he’d rested slightly, Brendon then gave a start as he felt a hand slide across his belly. In the next moment, before he was able to turn around and face the person behind him, this someone had caught his earlobe between their lips and sucked on it, tip of their tongue teasing his skin and making him stifle a quiet moan. Nimble fingers ran over his torso, ever so lightly teasing around his nipples until he managed to pull himself together and seize the other’s wrist. Tugging at the arm, he pulled the perpetrator before him, pushing him against the table.

Ryan smiled coyly as he was put on the table, quickly taking advantage of his pose and pulling Brendon closer between spread legs. “Who’s on top now?”

He hadn’t showered yet, that much was obvious. His fringe was stripy, but the make-up still looked impeccable. Then again, there were few times when Brendon didn’t find Ryan attractive.

“I don’t know,” he said in reply to the question posed. “What do you reckon?”

Hooking two fingers inside the towel lining and tugging ever so lightly, Ryan smiled. “Me.”

Involuntarily, Brendon moved a hand to hold the towel in place. The tell-tale move made Ryan chuckle and give another tug, harder this time.

“Are you afraid to show off, Brendon? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. And I doubt the other guys would laugh at you.”

Unable to keep the faint blush away from his cheeks, Brendon used his free hand to guide Ryan a little lower. “I couldn’t go showing them this, could I?” he retorted with a sly smile.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, starting to gently caress Brendon’s growing erection, causing the singer to bite his lip and close his eyes. Damn, Ryan knew what to do, and how to do it just right. Fingers clenching slightly around the towel, Brendon quenched a moan growing in his throat, forcing his eyes open to find Ryan watching him with fascination. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look, but it was just as odd every time. When the caressing stopped, he couldn’t help but give Ryan the puppydog look.

The guitarist looked at him with a now blank face. “I have to shower.”

Such a simple sentence, and yet such a compelling invitation. Brendon stepped back to allow the other man to stand up, even let him disappear out to the dressing rooms before following in his footsteps. Entering the room, he heard water running and made his way over to the shower, pushing the door open just a little. Leaning against the wall, he let his eyes rest on the sight before him.

Ryan had removed his make up and was letting the water wash over him, washing away the sweat from the show. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at Brendon and beckoned him inside with a finger. Letting his towel fall, Brendon wasn’t late to oblige. Water washed over his nearly dry body, getting him wet again. Water droplets clung to Ryan’s eyelashes, he noticed before the other was kissing him up against the slippery wall. Hands were groping, pulling closer, gaining access. The water continuously washed away the sweat, though the warmth of it didn’t leave any cooling feeling on the skin.

Brendon moaned as Ryan’s hand enclosed him, and for a moment he had to stop and steady himself. One hand pressed against the wall, the other looking to return the favour, he managed a smile as he heard Ryan groan, the other’s hand movements momentarily stopping before the guitarist started thrusting gently into his hand, synchronising his hip movements with those of his own hand. Rocking against each other, the tension quickly built up, all the while kisses were shared, given, taken.

Grabbing hold of Ryan’s shoulder, Brendon moaned into his lover’s mouth as he released himself, trying to keep up his strokes on the other as well as remain standing. Ryan thrust harder, locking them in a kiss as he came, and it was by far the most fervent kiss the two had shared in a long time. Comfortably weakened, the two men gathered their breath, their bodies pressed together under the constant stream of water. Lifting his head, Ryan gave a misty smile.

“You’ve had what you wanted. Can I take my shower now?”

Brendon returned the smile, panting slightly. “You don’t love me. I’m just your boy-toy.”

“You don’t mind.”

And truth was, Brendon didn’t mind. At all.