“That’s just a warning,” the bassist said as he sat beside him, reclining on his palms, watching his friend getting the condoms out of their foil.
“Is he for real?” James asked, a dash of fear in his tone.
Chris snorted, rolling his eyes like the brat he was. “Yes, and no.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He tittered, relaxing as the guitarist rolled the condom over his shaft and then put one on his own.
“That he likes testing my patience.” Marc flashed his friend one of his‘I dare you’looks.
“Ignore him.” Chris grabbed the tech’s hips and pulled him closer. “I’ll be the one taking care of you, so don’t worry.”
And with that, the intermission ended. Chris bent down and pushed James’s dick to the back of his throat. Eagerly moving his head up and down, his mind was once again floating in the cadence of their groans, shivering when he looked up and saw Marc staring at him. He was enjoying this too much.
“Fuck, mate… If you keep that up, Iamgonna come.” James weaved his fingers through the guitarist’s hair, free hand holding onto Marc’s neck when the bassist shut him up with a savage kiss.
Chris smirked, leaving them devouring each other as he grabbed the bottle of lube.
A few minutes later, with a mess of fluids over the sheets, a dilated pulsing hole in front of him, and his throbbing cock in hand, he thrust his hips forward into James.
“Holy—fuck!”
“Your dick feels so good…” the tech squirmed under him, crossing his legs on Chris’s back.
“Yeah? And this…” He pulled out, leaving only the tip inside, before he eased in, adding a little circular motion when not an inch of him was visible.
James let out a nervous snicker. “Fuck, yeah. That feels great—Yes… Fuck, yes, yeah, keep doing that.”
And so he did, slowly building him and the latent orgasm that might be coiling in his abdomen and tightening his balls. Marc had taught him that move. It was evil, just like him.
Chris leaned down, loving how this man’s body was reacting to his intrusion, and they ravished each other’s mouths.
Marc and James were physically different. The roadie was shorter and bulkier, but the stubble on his jaw tickling Chris’s palm now was one thing that distinguished them easily. Not to mention the way they kissed and smelled… Okay, fucking everything. It was sappy as fuck to admit, but Chris would recognize the bassist anywhere, even if he went blind.
“Hmm…” he moaned into James’s mouth as Marc—still on the left side—began working on his asshole, dropping sloppy kisses on his ribs.
Wet sounds, groans, and heavy breaths filled the room, turning the violent deathcore music that was playing into background noise. The energy between them changed as Chris furiously fucked James, his own rear coming undone in anticipation of Marc. It was like a sinister entity unraveling and gaining in his mind. He had no control over his emotions or actions anymore.
Desperate. Rough. Manic. He continued pounding into the tech, only slowing down when his friend finally positioned himself behind him. As Marc drove in, Chris completely halted, indulging in the sensation of his dick stretching him.
He might not be the one fucking the bassist, but neither was James. And Marc’s words from before—I’m saving my cum for you—resonating in his head, only stroked the greedy need to sew their skin together. He was his.
“Oh, fuck!” James chuckled.
“What?” Marc asked, his voice hoarse with lust as he nuzzled the guitarist’s neck, moving at a tantalizing pace to allow him time to adjust.
“He just twitched so hard.”
“That’s ‘cause he loves it when I feed my cock to his ass. Right, baby?” One of Marc’s arms wrapped around Chris’s torso while his other hand pressed on his hip near his crotch.
“Fuck, yeah.” Chris turned his face, reaching back and fisting the bassist’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss.
As Marc began to thrust, forcing them all to sway in tandem, Chris abandoned himself to his touch.
He couldn’t open up like most people did. Felt disconnected and guilty for not always being able to empathize when someone was going through a rough patch. He certainly was a mess of a human being when it came to forming and maintaining relationships—how his friends still put up with his shit was beyond him. But when he was with this man, it was as if all his faults and sins washed away. His heart knew no shame around him. Marc stripped him of his pride, and his entire existence surrendered to him.
“Fuck, there…” Chris moaned as the bassist grabbed his hips in a bruising grip and pounded harder.
“Like that?” he teased, repeating the same motion over and over.
