hidethekey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hidethekey) wrote2009-06-01 12:54 pm
hidethekey) wrote2009-06-01 12:54 pm
Marshall Always Has The Best Stuff To Steal
Title: Marshall Always Has The Best Stuff To Steal
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cash and Singer
POV: Third
Summary: Singer is so on that it’s infectious. Cash can’t help but watch, stare as Singer flirts with the crowd, crowds into Ian’s space and does just a fantastic job at being a performer. Cash wonders why he wants his hands on Singer so damned badly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Cab. The only claim I have is that I met them in July and they were rad. I don’t think they actually do this. So. Yeah, not real.
Author’s notes: Thanks toorestria for being awesome and editting this. I love you baby! I like this one a lot, I really hope you guys do too.
Singer is on tonight. Cash watches him as he flirts with the crowd, smiling wide as he steals a girl’s camera and does a myspace shot with it. Cash watches as he makes ‘come hither’ motions with his hand and winks. Cash watches as the girls scream for him and tries not to be too jealous. He sidles up beside his friend and leans into him as he plays his bass. Cash rubs up against Singer and Singer plays into it arching coquettishly. Cash can see the delight on his face when the girls start screaming louder.
Cash tries to mind his own business and plays his bass. He does his own little flirtations with the crowd and, yeah, he might be a little closer to Singer than normal as he’s playing but he’s sure that no one is really going to notice that. Besides, Singer is like, unavoidable. He’s thrumming with adrenaline and Cash thinks it’s catching. Now he’s the one being flirty with the crowd, and he’s the one crowding Ian and Singer both, he’s the one doubling back and playing for Johnson. He even flits over to Marshall, grinning wide and playing hard.
Then it’s over. They’ve played their last song and it’s time for another band, a band better and more famous than them to take the stage. This is usually the time that Cash crashes down. It’s the time when they have to take all of their own equipment off the stage because they don’t make enough money to hire someone to do it for them. They shove all of their equipment back into the van and trailer and stand around waiting for the last band to finish. Cash lights a cigarette but he’s still too high to smoke it. Instead, he drops it on the ground, forgetting about it as he bounces around the other four.
“We fucking owned tonight!” he crows. He throws an arm over Singer’s shoulders and pulls his head in close, “And you! God, Singer, you were a fucking king up there. I knew you had it in you, dude.” His grin is wide, he can feel it stretching over his face and he feels it get impossibly wider when Singer returns the gaze.
Singer blushes and Cash thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen even though he’s seen it many times before. “No, Cash. We were all kings up there. We all owned tonight and you were fucking on. Play like that every night, seriously.”
“No, you were-” Cash begins, but he’s interrupted by an annoyed Johnson.
“I am so not sleeping in the same room as them tonight,” he complains, “They’re just going to stay up and tell each other how great the other is. Can I crash with you two?” he asks Ian and Marshall.
Ian bites his lip and Cash knows it’s because he and Marshall, well, there’s more going on there than anyone really admits. Tonight is a hotel night and they don’t want to waste it. Cash watches as Ian and Marshall exchange glances. Johnson rolls his eyes and growls, “I’ll just sleep in the van. I know what you two want to do in that room and I’d rather not have a bed than have you defacing our awesome touring van like that.”
“Yeah, no sex in the van guys,” Cash agrees. He smirks at them both because neither of them had actually told anyone in the band what they got up to when they snuck off together, but everyone knew. It wasn’t hard to tell when they both came back with sex hair and guilty expressions, not to mention the angry red hickeys all over both of their necks. The secret glances and winks didn’t really help them keep it a secret either.
Marshall blushes deep and leans in against Ian, burying his head between Ian’s neck and shoulder. Ian wraps an arm around Marshall, figuring that since someone had finally said something, it’s okay to show a little bit more affection in public. “We don’t want to kick you out…”
Johnson just looks at them, “Seriously. If I share with you two, then you’ll fuck in the shower and I’ll still have to hear it. That’s fucking gross. I can stay in the van, take one for the team, you know?”
“You can share with us,” Singer says decisively. “It’s not like me and Cash are fucking each other.”
“Yet,” Cash adds with a grin and a leer.
“Exactly,” Johnson agrees, “It’s okay guys, I like sleeping in the van, at least when I’m in there alone. I’ll be fine.”
That’s all that is said on the subject because the last band is done and the crowd is dispersing. Cash’s arm is shrugged off of Singer’s shoulder because now they need to collect their merch and get to their hotel where they can all order pizza and sleep in beds. Once they get to the hotel, when all is said and done, none of them notice that Johnson actually does stay in the van and shoots all four of them a knowing look.
When they get into their room, Cash and Singer immediately start jumping on the bed together. “That show was awesome,” Cash repeats even though he knows that he’s been saying it all night. He can’t help it though, Singer had been fantastic.
“Totally,” Singer agrees. He stumbles a little on one of his jumps and his hands fly forward to Cash, grasping him to keep from falling. What happens instead is that Cash falls onto him, causing them both to wind up on the bed, Singer flat on his back and Cash sprawled on top of his tiny frame. They both look at each other in shock, then burst into giggles.
The giggles don’t last long though because for some reason, one completely unknown to him, Cash pushes up and forward and brushes his lips against Singer’s. His eyes go wide as soon as he realizes what he’s done and he’s sure that Singer is going to push him away and run off to Ian and Marshall for protection. He expects Singer to yell out that Cash is raping him. He expects Singer to never ever want to talk to him again and hate him for the rest of their lives. What he does not expect is for Singer to melt beneath him, bring his fingers up through his hair, and kiss him so hard that Cash thinks he might get whiplash.
“Oh my fucking god, Cash, it took you long enough…” Singer mumbles against his lips before slipping some tongue in. Cash is shocked enough by the epic turn of events to allow Singer entrance. He’s still not technically kissing back though, and Singer pulls off. “Dude, what the fuck?” he asks.
“Um?” Cash replies. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to say to that. He knows that yes, he’s the one that kissed Singer. He’s the one that initiated everything but… It’s not like he’d expected Singer to go along with it. “What the fuck just happened?”
“You kissed me, douchebag, or did you forget that part already?” Singer says sarcastically. Singer can really be a bitch when he wants to be.
“Yeah, I know. But… you kissed back,” Cash replies. It still doesn’t make any sense to him. It’s like he’s high. His brain is fogged and he just can’t make any of the last ten minutes actually come clear in his mind.
“What was I supposed to do? I wanted you to do it,” Singer says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and thinking back, maybe it is. Singer has always been touchier with Cash than anyone else. He’s always been the first to claim him as a hotel buddy. Hell, Singer used to come to his house everyday, even when they weren’t talking about music. Cash and Singer have spent immense amounts of time in Cash’s bedroom. Why aren’t they fucking? Cash can’t even answer that question.
“I thought… fuck… never mind.” And then Cash moves in again, brushing his lips gently against Singer’s, running his tongue over Singer’s bottom lip. Cash grins when he hears the growl emit from his friend’s throat. “That was so hot…” Cash murmurs against his lips. He moves his hands from wherever they’d landed to Singer’s hips and questions why they hadn’t done this sooner. It could have been so perfect.
Cash decides not to think about that now. Not since Singer is underneath him and very clearly wants something to be happening right at this moment. Cash wants something to be happening too, so he kisses Singer again. The kiss is slow and soft, just a gentle slide of lips until Cash just can’t take it anymore. He wants it all, he wants it now. Cash slips in some tongue and makes sure the kiss turns much deeper. Cash’s fingers fumble with Singer’s vest and, once he gets that open, with the white button up shirt he’d been wearing. Cash thinks that Singer wears far too many shirts with buttons on them and if they’re going to keep doing this, he’s going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe. Cash wants Singer’s skin now; he doesn’t want to have to undo seventeen buttons to get to it.
Once he finally gets all of those damned buttons undone, he breaks his mouth away from Singer’s, pressing it against his jaw, then his neck instead. Cash takes his time there. He presses short, wet kisses against the skin and then some longer ones. He sucks on Singer’s neck, leaving marks to remind Singer of all of this in the morning. He licks over the red spots then drags his lips down again. Cash focuses on Singer’s collar bone, kissing and licking over it as well, leaving deeper, bigger marks where Singer’s shirt with too many buttons will hide them. All the while, Cash is thoroughly enjoying the tiny little gasps that Singer makes and the way Singer is inhaling deeply. He likes it especially when a moan tears out of Singer’s throat when Cash hits an overly sensitive spot. Hearing that sound come from Singer makes Cash want to do it again. It makes him jealous to think that there were other people hearing it, causing it before he was there. He doesn’t want to know about anyone else ever seeing Singer like this.
His lips are on Singer’s bony hips when he feels Singer’s hands in his hair, pushing him down, or pulling him up, he’s not sure which. Cash rocks back, props himself up on his elbows and peers at Singer from beneath his lashes. “Tell me what you want,” he says.
“Fuck Cash,” Singer replies. He looks down at Cash and Cash shoots him a half smile. “Loaded question, don’t you think?”
“Just tell me. I’ll do anything Singer,” Cash says. He can hear his own voice in his ears and it sounds like tires over gravel. He knows his eyes are dark as he looks into Singer’s and it’s because he wants this. He wants it bad.
Singer groans and shifts his hips up, searching for friction but being left denied because Cash just isn’t in the right position to rub up against. “Take my jeans off, Cash.” His voice is breathless; barely even a voice at all and really more of a whisper. Cash feels his dick jerk in response. He complies with Singer’s request and undoes yet another damned button before lowering the zipper of Singer’s jeans and then tugging them over his hips and ass. Cash pulls the pants down to his friend’s knees before letting his hand double back and squeeze Singer’s ass. Singer pushes up again. “Boxers too…” he manages to gasp.
Cash is actually a little surprised that Singer can fit boxers into his tight pants but he decides not to comment on it. Instead he hooks his fingers in the waistband of Singer’s underwear and yanks them down. Cash can’t help it; he stares. Singer’s hips are clearly visible and Cash kind of has to marvel at how skinny he is. His stomach is flat, chest heaving because he’s out of breath. Cash takes great pleasure in the fact that Singer is breathless because of him.
Cash stares at Singer’s flat stomach and feels like he’s going to drool. He doesn’t know why he’d never thought of doing this before, why it had taken him so damn long to actually make a move. Singer had obviously been waiting for it so what was the problem? Cash doesn’t know. He doesn’t know at all. Instead of thinking about it further, he leans his head down and nips at Singer’s pointy hip. Singer tastes amazing, Cash finds out quickly. He’s salty and bitter, spicy and warm. Cash finds that he wants to lick Singer all over.
He starts with running his tongue over the skin that he’d just pressed his teeth against. He licks the red mark gently, drags his lips over it then moves his tongue over, across Singer’s stomach. Cash feels the skin tremble underneath his lips and tongue. He kisses all the way up Singer’s stomach, over his chest and finally presses his lips back down onto Singer’s, running his tongue over the bottom one and then sucking it in. He kisses Singer properly, passionately, making sure Singer knows how much Cash is enjoying the feeling of him underneath him, wriggling and pushing his hips up. When they pull away, both of them are gasping for breath and grinning at each other.
“I want to do something,” Cash says as he leans forward and brushes their lips together once more. He pulls away again and looks at Singer. “Will you let me?” he asks.
Singer bites his lower lip, an action that makes Cash want to kiss him all over again then nods. He doesn’t ask what exactly Cash wants to do to him but Cash figures that part of it doesn’t actually matter as long as there’s something and Cash is the one doing it. He nods, kisses Singer once more then trails his lips back down his soon to be lover’s body. “You’re so fucking hot, Singer. I want you fucking bad.”
Singer moans and pushes his body up against Cash’s lips and Cash is sure that Ian and Marshall can hear next door. He doesn’t care though, not even a little because he wants them to hear, He wants them to hear Singer cry out like that and know that he’s the one causing it. He licks over Singer’s hip again and then finally settles himself between Singer’s legs. He’s briefly tempted to tell Singer all about what he’s going to do, just to hear him beg for it but he doesn’t. He’d rather keep this part a surprise.
Cash looks up and smirks at Singer just before he sinks down a little further and slowly runs his tongue over the head of Singer’s cock. Cash hasn’t ever done this before. Of course he’s had it done to him, more times than he can count, but he’s never been the one administering this pleasure to anyone else. He feels a surge of power, a surge of arousal when he bends again, taking more of Singer in. He should have known by the way that Singer likes to talk, but he’d never really guessed that Singer would be this loud in bed. He’s a little surprised at all the noises that the thinner of the two continues to emit but he’s not about to tell Singer to stop. He wants to hear this, loves hearing it just as much as he loves to hear Singer sing. He might actually love these sounds a little bit more.
Cash has a fist wrapped around the base of Singer’s cock, his tongue is being run all over the head and first few inches, tasting and teasing. Singer’s hands are in his hair, tugging the short strands, encouraging Cash to take him in further. Cash does so but only for a moment, since he has more plans for them. When he pulls off, Singer’s dick is wet with Cash’s saliva and the tip is leaking with pre-come. Cash runs his tongue over it, just for a taste. It tasted salty and bitter and not necessarily pleasant but not bad either. Cash wants to go down on Singer another time so that he can fully experience this taste.
“God Cash, why did you stop?” Singer asked. Cash looks up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown. He’s taken his hands away from Cash’s hair by now and he runs his fingers through his own, pushing it from his face.
“Because I want to do something else, for you,” Cash replies. That’s when he remembers something. “Mother fucker,” he mumbles.
“What, what’s wrong? Why are we stopping?” Singer asks in a rush. He props himself up on his elbows again and looks at Cash with confusion on his face. “Why aren’t you naked?”
Cash laughs at that because he honestly doesn’t even know the answer. He’d been too busy trying to touch Singer, to pleasure Singer to even think about getting anything back. That brings him back to the problem at hand. “I don’t have anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Singer replies, “I do.” He gets up off the bed and walks over to his bag. Cash stares long and hard at his ass as he bends over to dig through and pick up the lube and condoms. Cash resists the urge to stand up, come up behind Singer and just lick him because he really wants to get this stuff going. Instead, he strips off his tee shirt but then waits until Singer turns back around before he takes his jeans off. Cash makes a show of it, slipping the material over his thighs and then all the way off. He tosses them onto the floor and motions to Singer to come back onto the bed and join him.
“Where did you get that?” Cash asks gently as Singer does join him and as he runs his hands over Singer’s back. He takes the condoms and lubricant into one hand and starts squeezing the lube out onto his fingers.
“I stole it from Marshall. He always has the best stuff to steal,” Singer replies with a grin. He presses his lips to Cash’s casually, darting out his tongue to lick lightly over Cash’s lips.
Cash laughs hard because he knows that everyone in the band always steals stuff from Marshall. He also knows that Marshall will be wanting that back after he and Ian finish in the shower. It’s kind of amusing that Ian and Marshall had both thought they were so careful that no one in the band would notice them sneaking off together so often. Cash is positive that everyone had known about it, maybe even the techs.
Singer moves and presses himself up against Cash, licking across his neck. His hair drops down and tickles Cash’s nose. The bassist pushes it behind Singer’s ear. “So, are you going to lube me up, or not?” Singer asks. He lays himself out and spreads his legs.
Cash brings his un-lubed hand up to Singer’s cheek. He turns his friend’s head so that they’re facing each other again and then presses his lips to Singer’s. “If that’s how you want it,” he says with a smirk.
“That’s exactly how I want it,” Singer replies. He presses further into Cash.
Cash slips his hand down between Singer’s legs and then between his cheeks. Singer throws his head back and closes his eyes. Cash teases his entrance, takes his hand away to apply more lube, then brings his hand down again and slips in the first finger. Singer buries his head in Cash’s neck, and bites down as Cash presses it in further, moving the digit so that when he’s inside, Singer won’t be in as much pain.
“Are you ready for another one?” Cash asks quietly. He waits for the nod from Singer before pouring even more lube on his hand and pressing in with two fingers instead of just the one this time. He hears Singer’s groan and it sounds different from the previous ones. He knows that this is uncomfortable for Singer but neither of them want this to stop. Cash moves his fingers in opposite directions, making sure to stretch Singer out fully. He twists his fingers and suddenly Singer cries out against his neck and thrusts his hips up.
“Cash, now,” he commands, “It’s not like I’ve never done this before.”
Cash growls. He doesn’t want to think about Singer having done this with another guy. He doesn’t want to know about some random sketchy guy with his fingers inside of Singer, twisting them around, brushing against his prostate. He doesn’t want to think about some groupie, thrusting into Singer, making him cry out and beg for more. He wants to be the only one, Singer’s only guy, and now that’s never going to happen. “Who was it?”
He twists his fingers again, making sure that they hit that bundle of nerves. Singer moans again and has to regain his breath before answering. “It was Ian, before he and Marshall got together. We both… we both needed to let off some steam since Marshall wasn’t being very receptive and you-” Singer growls as Cash purposefully presses his fingers into Singer’s prostate again. “You were being totally oblivious. No one since him, except myself. I... I sometimes stretch myself, it feels good…”
Cash is satisfied with the answer. He’s glad it had been Ian rather than some sketch groupie. He still doesn’t like the idea of Singer with anyone else but he figures that if Singer is going to be with a guy that’s not Cash, he’d rather it be someone in the band at least. He slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the condom that Singer had brought to the bed with them. “Did you steal this from Marshall too?” he asks. Singer nods into his neck and Cash chuckles, “You’re my hero, baby.”
Cash rolls the condom onto his hard cock. He takes the lubricant and spreads it all over. He moves them around so that Singer is on his hands and knees and Cash positions himself behind him. “Go slow,” Singer says. “It doesn’t matter how stretched I am, it’s still going to be uncomfortable at first.”
Cash nods against his back and slowly pushes himself in. Inside Singer is warm and tight. He’s wet too, but that’s because of all of the lube they’d used. Maybe they should buy Marshall some new stuff… Cash presses in a little further then stops. He wants Singer to enjoy this too. It’s all he can do to not grab Singer by the hips and start thrusting in earnest though because the heat and the slide are starting to drive him crazy. Cash is by no means a virgin, not even when it comes to having sex with a dude but it has been a while. It’s hard to find privacy from band mates when on the road and the groupies that present themselves to the opening bands are swimming with diseases. Since it has been a while, Cash really wants to get this going so that he can get off, finally.
“More.”
The word is like Singer’s voice when he sings That 70’s Song to Cash’s ears. He pushes in, inch by inch and finally he’s there, all the way. His hands reach for Singer’s hips where one of them finds purchase and the other reaches all the way around, surrounding Singer’s cock. Singer makes a low, whiny sound and Cash pulls out a little and pushes back in as gently as possible. “God, Singer…”
“Cash, stop going so slowly, I need you,” Singer pleads. His voice cracks halfway through the line and he bows his head even further. “I’m not a chick, I can take it.”
Well, if Singer is going to put it so explicitly, Cash is definitely not going to be one to deny him. He pulls out further then pushes right back in. He and Singer find a rhythm together and Cash jerks him off in time with his thrusts. Singer is moaning like a whore and pushing himself back against Cash desperately. Cash knows that he’s hitting Singer’s prostate most of the time, at least, because he doesn’t think that Singer would be acting like this if he wasn’t. Cash doesn’t mind, not in the least because Singer is fucking hot like this. “Fucking sexy, babe…” Cash murmurs against his back, “So damned sexy… can’t even stand it.”
“God, fuck Cash…” Singer pushes back again, this time a little more forcefully than he had previously. Cash groans. “I’m so close…” Cash can’t understand how Singer is still able to form coherent sentences. His mind is fogged, all of the blood’s rushed out, gone down. There’s heat pooling in his belly, building up and he goes even harder against Singer. If Singer’s close, Cash wants him to go first but Cash knows that he’s about to go any second. He grips Singer’s dick tighter and jerks him off. Singer comes onto the cheap hotel mattress with a gasp of Cash’s name. Cash thrusts in only a few more times before the heat explodes inside of him and he’s coming too. He falls against Singer, spent and Singer collapses onto the mattress and, unfortunately, the sticky spot.
“Ew,” Singer complains, “I need a shower now.”
Cash kisses his shoulder, feeling cuddly now that he’s warm and sated. “Me too, baby. Can I join you?” he asks.
“Will there be shower blowjobs?” Singer inquires. Cash can hear the smile in his voice. “If so, you can shower with me whenever you want to.”
“I’m going to take you up on that for the next… you know, forever.” Cash kisses his shoulder again then slowly pulls out. He takes the condom off and drops it beside them on the floor.
“Ew, again,” Singer complains. He rolls off of the sticky spot on the bed then carefully props himself up on his shoulders. “You’re fucking disgusting, you know.”
“You love me anyways,” Cash grins.
“Sometimes I think that’s a rather unfortunate fact, Cash Money,” Singer complains. “But right now, at this moment, it feels pretty damned good, I must admit.”
Cash kisses him again and then gets off the bed. He holds out his hand for Singer and helps him up. Singer’s walk is only slightly awkward as they go to the washroom. Cash gets the shower ready and helps Singer in. He moves in behind his now lover and cuddles right into him. “You know what I’m excited for? Sex on tour. I totally plan on tapping that all over the place now.”
“Oh my god, I knew that you’d be like this when we finally hooked up.” Singer leans back against Cash though, so Cash knows that he doesn’t actually mean it negatively.
“You can’t wait til I’m fucking you all the time, all over, can you?”
“I can actually, if we do that again, I’ll be sore tomorrow and since we have a show, that wouldn’t be good. Any other day though, I’d totally be up for some fucking.”
Cash grins, “Johnson is going to kill us.”
Singer doesn’t reply because by that time, he’s turned himself around and he’s kissing Cash again. Cash doesn’t mind, he kisses him back.
*
The next morning, Marshall walks up to them with a purposeful stride. “I know you took it,” he says, eyes narrowed. “I know you took it and I want it back. You two totally ruined my night, assholes.”
Singer giggles and leans into Cash. Cash wraps his arms around Singer’s slim waist and nuzzles his hair. There’s no way that they’re going to be quiet about this, he knows and besides, the only people with them right now are other people from their band. “Yeah, but it definitely made our night better.”
“Well, I’m glad someone got fucked properly. We had to use that shitty conditioner from the bathroom, thanks. You guys owe me new lube.” And with that, he stalks off toward Ian. Cash and Singer are too busy holding each other up while they laugh to dignify Marshall with any sort of response.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cash and Singer
POV: Third
Summary: Singer is so on that it’s infectious. Cash can’t help but watch, stare as Singer flirts with the crowd, crowds into Ian’s space and does just a fantastic job at being a performer. Cash wonders why he wants his hands on Singer so damned badly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Cab. The only claim I have is that I met them in July and they were rad. I don’t think they actually do this. So. Yeah, not real.
Author’s notes: Thanks to
orestria for being awesome and editting this. I love you baby! I like this one a lot, I really hope you guys do too. Singer is on tonight. Cash watches him as he flirts with the crowd, smiling wide as he steals a girl’s camera and does a myspace shot with it. Cash watches as he makes ‘come hither’ motions with his hand and winks. Cash watches as the girls scream for him and tries not to be too jealous. He sidles up beside his friend and leans into him as he plays his bass. Cash rubs up against Singer and Singer plays into it arching coquettishly. Cash can see the delight on his face when the girls start screaming louder.
Cash tries to mind his own business and plays his bass. He does his own little flirtations with the crowd and, yeah, he might be a little closer to Singer than normal as he’s playing but he’s sure that no one is really going to notice that. Besides, Singer is like, unavoidable. He’s thrumming with adrenaline and Cash thinks it’s catching. Now he’s the one being flirty with the crowd, and he’s the one crowding Ian and Singer both, he’s the one doubling back and playing for Johnson. He even flits over to Marshall, grinning wide and playing hard.
Then it’s over. They’ve played their last song and it’s time for another band, a band better and more famous than them to take the stage. This is usually the time that Cash crashes down. It’s the time when they have to take all of their own equipment off the stage because they don’t make enough money to hire someone to do it for them. They shove all of their equipment back into the van and trailer and stand around waiting for the last band to finish. Cash lights a cigarette but he’s still too high to smoke it. Instead, he drops it on the ground, forgetting about it as he bounces around the other four.
“We fucking owned tonight!” he crows. He throws an arm over Singer’s shoulders and pulls his head in close, “And you! God, Singer, you were a fucking king up there. I knew you had it in you, dude.” His grin is wide, he can feel it stretching over his face and he feels it get impossibly wider when Singer returns the gaze.
Singer blushes and Cash thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen even though he’s seen it many times before. “No, Cash. We were all kings up there. We all owned tonight and you were fucking on. Play like that every night, seriously.”
“No, you were-” Cash begins, but he’s interrupted by an annoyed Johnson.
“I am so not sleeping in the same room as them tonight,” he complains, “They’re just going to stay up and tell each other how great the other is. Can I crash with you two?” he asks Ian and Marshall.
Ian bites his lip and Cash knows it’s because he and Marshall, well, there’s more going on there than anyone really admits. Tonight is a hotel night and they don’t want to waste it. Cash watches as Ian and Marshall exchange glances. Johnson rolls his eyes and growls, “I’ll just sleep in the van. I know what you two want to do in that room and I’d rather not have a bed than have you defacing our awesome touring van like that.”
“Yeah, no sex in the van guys,” Cash agrees. He smirks at them both because neither of them had actually told anyone in the band what they got up to when they snuck off together, but everyone knew. It wasn’t hard to tell when they both came back with sex hair and guilty expressions, not to mention the angry red hickeys all over both of their necks. The secret glances and winks didn’t really help them keep it a secret either.
Marshall blushes deep and leans in against Ian, burying his head between Ian’s neck and shoulder. Ian wraps an arm around Marshall, figuring that since someone had finally said something, it’s okay to show a little bit more affection in public. “We don’t want to kick you out…”
Johnson just looks at them, “Seriously. If I share with you two, then you’ll fuck in the shower and I’ll still have to hear it. That’s fucking gross. I can stay in the van, take one for the team, you know?”
“You can share with us,” Singer says decisively. “It’s not like me and Cash are fucking each other.”
“Yet,” Cash adds with a grin and a leer.
“Exactly,” Johnson agrees, “It’s okay guys, I like sleeping in the van, at least when I’m in there alone. I’ll be fine.”
That’s all that is said on the subject because the last band is done and the crowd is dispersing. Cash’s arm is shrugged off of Singer’s shoulder because now they need to collect their merch and get to their hotel where they can all order pizza and sleep in beds. Once they get to the hotel, when all is said and done, none of them notice that Johnson actually does stay in the van and shoots all four of them a knowing look.
When they get into their room, Cash and Singer immediately start jumping on the bed together. “That show was awesome,” Cash repeats even though he knows that he’s been saying it all night. He can’t help it though, Singer had been fantastic.
“Totally,” Singer agrees. He stumbles a little on one of his jumps and his hands fly forward to Cash, grasping him to keep from falling. What happens instead is that Cash falls onto him, causing them both to wind up on the bed, Singer flat on his back and Cash sprawled on top of his tiny frame. They both look at each other in shock, then burst into giggles.
The giggles don’t last long though because for some reason, one completely unknown to him, Cash pushes up and forward and brushes his lips against Singer’s. His eyes go wide as soon as he realizes what he’s done and he’s sure that Singer is going to push him away and run off to Ian and Marshall for protection. He expects Singer to yell out that Cash is raping him. He expects Singer to never ever want to talk to him again and hate him for the rest of their lives. What he does not expect is for Singer to melt beneath him, bring his fingers up through his hair, and kiss him so hard that Cash thinks he might get whiplash.
“Oh my fucking god, Cash, it took you long enough…” Singer mumbles against his lips before slipping some tongue in. Cash is shocked enough by the epic turn of events to allow Singer entrance. He’s still not technically kissing back though, and Singer pulls off. “Dude, what the fuck?” he asks.
“Um?” Cash replies. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to say to that. He knows that yes, he’s the one that kissed Singer. He’s the one that initiated everything but… It’s not like he’d expected Singer to go along with it. “What the fuck just happened?”
“You kissed me, douchebag, or did you forget that part already?” Singer says sarcastically. Singer can really be a bitch when he wants to be.
“Yeah, I know. But… you kissed back,” Cash replies. It still doesn’t make any sense to him. It’s like he’s high. His brain is fogged and he just can’t make any of the last ten minutes actually come clear in his mind.
“What was I supposed to do? I wanted you to do it,” Singer says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and thinking back, maybe it is. Singer has always been touchier with Cash than anyone else. He’s always been the first to claim him as a hotel buddy. Hell, Singer used to come to his house everyday, even when they weren’t talking about music. Cash and Singer have spent immense amounts of time in Cash’s bedroom. Why aren’t they fucking? Cash can’t even answer that question.
“I thought… fuck… never mind.” And then Cash moves in again, brushing his lips gently against Singer’s, running his tongue over Singer’s bottom lip. Cash grins when he hears the growl emit from his friend’s throat. “That was so hot…” Cash murmurs against his lips. He moves his hands from wherever they’d landed to Singer’s hips and questions why they hadn’t done this sooner. It could have been so perfect.
Cash decides not to think about that now. Not since Singer is underneath him and very clearly wants something to be happening right at this moment. Cash wants something to be happening too, so he kisses Singer again. The kiss is slow and soft, just a gentle slide of lips until Cash just can’t take it anymore. He wants it all, he wants it now. Cash slips in some tongue and makes sure the kiss turns much deeper. Cash’s fingers fumble with Singer’s vest and, once he gets that open, with the white button up shirt he’d been wearing. Cash thinks that Singer wears far too many shirts with buttons on them and if they’re going to keep doing this, he’s going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe. Cash wants Singer’s skin now; he doesn’t want to have to undo seventeen buttons to get to it.
Once he finally gets all of those damned buttons undone, he breaks his mouth away from Singer’s, pressing it against his jaw, then his neck instead. Cash takes his time there. He presses short, wet kisses against the skin and then some longer ones. He sucks on Singer’s neck, leaving marks to remind Singer of all of this in the morning. He licks over the red spots then drags his lips down again. Cash focuses on Singer’s collar bone, kissing and licking over it as well, leaving deeper, bigger marks where Singer’s shirt with too many buttons will hide them. All the while, Cash is thoroughly enjoying the tiny little gasps that Singer makes and the way Singer is inhaling deeply. He likes it especially when a moan tears out of Singer’s throat when Cash hits an overly sensitive spot. Hearing that sound come from Singer makes Cash want to do it again. It makes him jealous to think that there were other people hearing it, causing it before he was there. He doesn’t want to know about anyone else ever seeing Singer like this.
His lips are on Singer’s bony hips when he feels Singer’s hands in his hair, pushing him down, or pulling him up, he’s not sure which. Cash rocks back, props himself up on his elbows and peers at Singer from beneath his lashes. “Tell me what you want,” he says.
“Fuck Cash,” Singer replies. He looks down at Cash and Cash shoots him a half smile. “Loaded question, don’t you think?”
“Just tell me. I’ll do anything Singer,” Cash says. He can hear his own voice in his ears and it sounds like tires over gravel. He knows his eyes are dark as he looks into Singer’s and it’s because he wants this. He wants it bad.
Singer groans and shifts his hips up, searching for friction but being left denied because Cash just isn’t in the right position to rub up against. “Take my jeans off, Cash.” His voice is breathless; barely even a voice at all and really more of a whisper. Cash feels his dick jerk in response. He complies with Singer’s request and undoes yet another damned button before lowering the zipper of Singer’s jeans and then tugging them over his hips and ass. Cash pulls the pants down to his friend’s knees before letting his hand double back and squeeze Singer’s ass. Singer pushes up again. “Boxers too…” he manages to gasp.
Cash is actually a little surprised that Singer can fit boxers into his tight pants but he decides not to comment on it. Instead he hooks his fingers in the waistband of Singer’s underwear and yanks them down. Cash can’t help it; he stares. Singer’s hips are clearly visible and Cash kind of has to marvel at how skinny he is. His stomach is flat, chest heaving because he’s out of breath. Cash takes great pleasure in the fact that Singer is breathless because of him.
Cash stares at Singer’s flat stomach and feels like he’s going to drool. He doesn’t know why he’d never thought of doing this before, why it had taken him so damn long to actually make a move. Singer had obviously been waiting for it so what was the problem? Cash doesn’t know. He doesn’t know at all. Instead of thinking about it further, he leans his head down and nips at Singer’s pointy hip. Singer tastes amazing, Cash finds out quickly. He’s salty and bitter, spicy and warm. Cash finds that he wants to lick Singer all over.
He starts with running his tongue over the skin that he’d just pressed his teeth against. He licks the red mark gently, drags his lips over it then moves his tongue over, across Singer’s stomach. Cash feels the skin tremble underneath his lips and tongue. He kisses all the way up Singer’s stomach, over his chest and finally presses his lips back down onto Singer’s, running his tongue over the bottom one and then sucking it in. He kisses Singer properly, passionately, making sure Singer knows how much Cash is enjoying the feeling of him underneath him, wriggling and pushing his hips up. When they pull away, both of them are gasping for breath and grinning at each other.
“I want to do something,” Cash says as he leans forward and brushes their lips together once more. He pulls away again and looks at Singer. “Will you let me?” he asks.
Singer bites his lower lip, an action that makes Cash want to kiss him all over again then nods. He doesn’t ask what exactly Cash wants to do to him but Cash figures that part of it doesn’t actually matter as long as there’s something and Cash is the one doing it. He nods, kisses Singer once more then trails his lips back down his soon to be lover’s body. “You’re so fucking hot, Singer. I want you fucking bad.”
Singer moans and pushes his body up against Cash’s lips and Cash is sure that Ian and Marshall can hear next door. He doesn’t care though, not even a little because he wants them to hear, He wants them to hear Singer cry out like that and know that he’s the one causing it. He licks over Singer’s hip again and then finally settles himself between Singer’s legs. He’s briefly tempted to tell Singer all about what he’s going to do, just to hear him beg for it but he doesn’t. He’d rather keep this part a surprise.
Cash looks up and smirks at Singer just before he sinks down a little further and slowly runs his tongue over the head of Singer’s cock. Cash hasn’t ever done this before. Of course he’s had it done to him, more times than he can count, but he’s never been the one administering this pleasure to anyone else. He feels a surge of power, a surge of arousal when he bends again, taking more of Singer in. He should have known by the way that Singer likes to talk, but he’d never really guessed that Singer would be this loud in bed. He’s a little surprised at all the noises that the thinner of the two continues to emit but he’s not about to tell Singer to stop. He wants to hear this, loves hearing it just as much as he loves to hear Singer sing. He might actually love these sounds a little bit more.
Cash has a fist wrapped around the base of Singer’s cock, his tongue is being run all over the head and first few inches, tasting and teasing. Singer’s hands are in his hair, tugging the short strands, encouraging Cash to take him in further. Cash does so but only for a moment, since he has more plans for them. When he pulls off, Singer’s dick is wet with Cash’s saliva and the tip is leaking with pre-come. Cash runs his tongue over it, just for a taste. It tasted salty and bitter and not necessarily pleasant but not bad either. Cash wants to go down on Singer another time so that he can fully experience this taste.
“God Cash, why did you stop?” Singer asked. Cash looks up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown. He’s taken his hands away from Cash’s hair by now and he runs his fingers through his own, pushing it from his face.
“Because I want to do something else, for you,” Cash replies. That’s when he remembers something. “Mother fucker,” he mumbles.
“What, what’s wrong? Why are we stopping?” Singer asks in a rush. He props himself up on his elbows again and looks at Cash with confusion on his face. “Why aren’t you naked?”
Cash laughs at that because he honestly doesn’t even know the answer. He’d been too busy trying to touch Singer, to pleasure Singer to even think about getting anything back. That brings him back to the problem at hand. “I don’t have anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Singer replies, “I do.” He gets up off the bed and walks over to his bag. Cash stares long and hard at his ass as he bends over to dig through and pick up the lube and condoms. Cash resists the urge to stand up, come up behind Singer and just lick him because he really wants to get this stuff going. Instead, he strips off his tee shirt but then waits until Singer turns back around before he takes his jeans off. Cash makes a show of it, slipping the material over his thighs and then all the way off. He tosses them onto the floor and motions to Singer to come back onto the bed and join him.
“Where did you get that?” Cash asks gently as Singer does join him and as he runs his hands over Singer’s back. He takes the condoms and lubricant into one hand and starts squeezing the lube out onto his fingers.
“I stole it from Marshall. He always has the best stuff to steal,” Singer replies with a grin. He presses his lips to Cash’s casually, darting out his tongue to lick lightly over Cash’s lips.
Cash laughs hard because he knows that everyone in the band always steals stuff from Marshall. He also knows that Marshall will be wanting that back after he and Ian finish in the shower. It’s kind of amusing that Ian and Marshall had both thought they were so careful that no one in the band would notice them sneaking off together so often. Cash is positive that everyone had known about it, maybe even the techs.
Singer moves and presses himself up against Cash, licking across his neck. His hair drops down and tickles Cash’s nose. The bassist pushes it behind Singer’s ear. “So, are you going to lube me up, or not?” Singer asks. He lays himself out and spreads his legs.
Cash brings his un-lubed hand up to Singer’s cheek. He turns his friend’s head so that they’re facing each other again and then presses his lips to Singer’s. “If that’s how you want it,” he says with a smirk.
“That’s exactly how I want it,” Singer replies. He presses further into Cash.
Cash slips his hand down between Singer’s legs and then between his cheeks. Singer throws his head back and closes his eyes. Cash teases his entrance, takes his hand away to apply more lube, then brings his hand down again and slips in the first finger. Singer buries his head in Cash’s neck, and bites down as Cash presses it in further, moving the digit so that when he’s inside, Singer won’t be in as much pain.
“Are you ready for another one?” Cash asks quietly. He waits for the nod from Singer before pouring even more lube on his hand and pressing in with two fingers instead of just the one this time. He hears Singer’s groan and it sounds different from the previous ones. He knows that this is uncomfortable for Singer but neither of them want this to stop. Cash moves his fingers in opposite directions, making sure to stretch Singer out fully. He twists his fingers and suddenly Singer cries out against his neck and thrusts his hips up.
“Cash, now,” he commands, “It’s not like I’ve never done this before.”
Cash growls. He doesn’t want to think about Singer having done this with another guy. He doesn’t want to know about some random sketchy guy with his fingers inside of Singer, twisting them around, brushing against his prostate. He doesn’t want to think about some groupie, thrusting into Singer, making him cry out and beg for more. He wants to be the only one, Singer’s only guy, and now that’s never going to happen. “Who was it?”
He twists his fingers again, making sure that they hit that bundle of nerves. Singer moans again and has to regain his breath before answering. “It was Ian, before he and Marshall got together. We both… we both needed to let off some steam since Marshall wasn’t being very receptive and you-” Singer growls as Cash purposefully presses his fingers into Singer’s prostate again. “You were being totally oblivious. No one since him, except myself. I... I sometimes stretch myself, it feels good…”
Cash is satisfied with the answer. He’s glad it had been Ian rather than some sketch groupie. He still doesn’t like the idea of Singer with anyone else but he figures that if Singer is going to be with a guy that’s not Cash, he’d rather it be someone in the band at least. He slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the condom that Singer had brought to the bed with them. “Did you steal this from Marshall too?” he asks. Singer nods into his neck and Cash chuckles, “You’re my hero, baby.”
Cash rolls the condom onto his hard cock. He takes the lubricant and spreads it all over. He moves them around so that Singer is on his hands and knees and Cash positions himself behind him. “Go slow,” Singer says. “It doesn’t matter how stretched I am, it’s still going to be uncomfortable at first.”
Cash nods against his back and slowly pushes himself in. Inside Singer is warm and tight. He’s wet too, but that’s because of all of the lube they’d used. Maybe they should buy Marshall some new stuff… Cash presses in a little further then stops. He wants Singer to enjoy this too. It’s all he can do to not grab Singer by the hips and start thrusting in earnest though because the heat and the slide are starting to drive him crazy. Cash is by no means a virgin, not even when it comes to having sex with a dude but it has been a while. It’s hard to find privacy from band mates when on the road and the groupies that present themselves to the opening bands are swimming with diseases. Since it has been a while, Cash really wants to get this going so that he can get off, finally.
“More.”
The word is like Singer’s voice when he sings That 70’s Song to Cash’s ears. He pushes in, inch by inch and finally he’s there, all the way. His hands reach for Singer’s hips where one of them finds purchase and the other reaches all the way around, surrounding Singer’s cock. Singer makes a low, whiny sound and Cash pulls out a little and pushes back in as gently as possible. “God, Singer…”
“Cash, stop going so slowly, I need you,” Singer pleads. His voice cracks halfway through the line and he bows his head even further. “I’m not a chick, I can take it.”
Well, if Singer is going to put it so explicitly, Cash is definitely not going to be one to deny him. He pulls out further then pushes right back in. He and Singer find a rhythm together and Cash jerks him off in time with his thrusts. Singer is moaning like a whore and pushing himself back against Cash desperately. Cash knows that he’s hitting Singer’s prostate most of the time, at least, because he doesn’t think that Singer would be acting like this if he wasn’t. Cash doesn’t mind, not in the least because Singer is fucking hot like this. “Fucking sexy, babe…” Cash murmurs against his back, “So damned sexy… can’t even stand it.”
“God, fuck Cash…” Singer pushes back again, this time a little more forcefully than he had previously. Cash groans. “I’m so close…” Cash can’t understand how Singer is still able to form coherent sentences. His mind is fogged, all of the blood’s rushed out, gone down. There’s heat pooling in his belly, building up and he goes even harder against Singer. If Singer’s close, Cash wants him to go first but Cash knows that he’s about to go any second. He grips Singer’s dick tighter and jerks him off. Singer comes onto the cheap hotel mattress with a gasp of Cash’s name. Cash thrusts in only a few more times before the heat explodes inside of him and he’s coming too. He falls against Singer, spent and Singer collapses onto the mattress and, unfortunately, the sticky spot.
“Ew,” Singer complains, “I need a shower now.”
Cash kisses his shoulder, feeling cuddly now that he’s warm and sated. “Me too, baby. Can I join you?” he asks.
“Will there be shower blowjobs?” Singer inquires. Cash can hear the smile in his voice. “If so, you can shower with me whenever you want to.”
“I’m going to take you up on that for the next… you know, forever.” Cash kisses his shoulder again then slowly pulls out. He takes the condom off and drops it beside them on the floor.
“Ew, again,” Singer complains. He rolls off of the sticky spot on the bed then carefully props himself up on his shoulders. “You’re fucking disgusting, you know.”
“You love me anyways,” Cash grins.
“Sometimes I think that’s a rather unfortunate fact, Cash Money,” Singer complains. “But right now, at this moment, it feels pretty damned good, I must admit.”
Cash kisses him again and then gets off the bed. He holds out his hand for Singer and helps him up. Singer’s walk is only slightly awkward as they go to the washroom. Cash gets the shower ready and helps Singer in. He moves in behind his now lover and cuddles right into him. “You know what I’m excited for? Sex on tour. I totally plan on tapping that all over the place now.”
“Oh my god, I knew that you’d be like this when we finally hooked up.” Singer leans back against Cash though, so Cash knows that he doesn’t actually mean it negatively.
“You can’t wait til I’m fucking you all the time, all over, can you?”
“I can actually, if we do that again, I’ll be sore tomorrow and since we have a show, that wouldn’t be good. Any other day though, I’d totally be up for some fucking.”
Cash grins, “Johnson is going to kill us.”
Singer doesn’t reply because by that time, he’s turned himself around and he’s kissing Cash again. Cash doesn’t mind, he kisses him back.
*
The next morning, Marshall walks up to them with a purposeful stride. “I know you took it,” he says, eyes narrowed. “I know you took it and I want it back. You two totally ruined my night, assholes.”
Singer giggles and leans into Cash. Cash wraps his arms around Singer’s slim waist and nuzzles his hair. There’s no way that they’re going to be quiet about this, he knows and besides, the only people with them right now are other people from their band. “Yeah, but it definitely made our night better.”
“Well, I’m glad someone got fucked properly. We had to use that shitty conditioner from the bathroom, thanks. You guys owe me new lube.” And with that, he stalks off toward Ian. Cash and Singer are too busy holding each other up while they laugh to dignify Marshall with any sort of response.