The sound of Willy spitting forcibly onto his fingers to slick them more
came from behind, then another filled him. Willy reached up and covered
Nyx's throat with his palm and fingers.
"This would be hotter over the back of a bus seat," he taunted roughly.
"You would. For me, you'd beg for it," he rasped, low and dark, as his
fingers slid slowly down Nyx's back, then around to stroke him in time with
his fingers. "Star or not..."
Willy pressed kisses to his skin as he pulled him through it. It was only
once Nyx was spent that Willy rose up, gripped his hips, and fucked him the
way he'd been taunting. He kept a firm grip on Nyx's narrow hips and used
him ruthlessly for his own pleasure.
The next day Nyx turned up after his table read, just as he'd promised. He
was wearing an old faded t-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans, his guitar
strapped to his back.
Most of the band had stopped to eat, paper sandwich wrappers all over a low
table. Willy was fussing with his guitar, his sandwich untouched, ad smiled
brightly when Nyx entered.
"Taking five," he said. "I told them you'd be here soon."
He rose and crossed to him, leaning in near his ear.
"The drummer is outside having a smoke. He might come in his pants if you
look at him," he chuckled.
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"Shit," Nyx gasped, everything happening so fast he didn't have time to think about it.
His toes curled and he gripped the covers tightly, back arching as Willy tasted him.
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Willy held him tight, merciless in his assault. He licked him wet, licked him open, then slipped his fingers in.
"Yes?" he demanded.
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"Yes," Nyx gasped, though honestly he wasn't even sure what the question was. Yes was definitely the answer though.
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The sound of Willy spitting forcibly onto his fingers to slick them more came from behind, then another filled him. Willy reached up and covered Nyx's throat with his palm and fingers.
"This would be hotter over the back of a bus seat," he taunted roughly.
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Nyx moaned loudly, tilting his head back.
"I'm a star now, I don't fuck on tour buses," Nyx assured him with a little grin.
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"You would. For me, you'd beg for it," he rasped, low and dark, as his fingers slid slowly down Nyx's back, then around to stroke him in time with his fingers. "Star or not..."
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"Fuck," Nyx swore softly, thrusting into Willy's palm. "I am a star though, you have to admit it," he grinned.
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"You're a star," Willy purred, then kissed his back.
His fingers slipped free, only for Willy to spit, slick his cock, and slowly fill him.
"Rockstar. Movie star," he continued, holding Nyx's hips.
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Nyx moaned loudly as Willy filled him, biting his lip as he ducked his head. "Exactly," he gasped.
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"Everyone loves you," Willy said, lowering his voice as he moved slowly. "Wants you. Worships you..."
He sank in deep and leaned forward to taste the back of Nyx's neck.
"Not like this. Not like me..."
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Nyx was fairly certain Willy didn't want him, not really. Things had gotten so sour last time around, it was a miracle they were even speaking.
Reaching down, he covered Will's hand with his own as he chased his pleasure.
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"Come for me, baby," Willy purred. "You know you want to..."
He rested his head on Nyx's back, hips thrusting in time with his hand that let Nyx guide him to the edge.
"Come, baby," he whispered.
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Nyx couldn't hold back even if he'd wanted to, coming with a shudder and a low moan of pleasure.
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Willy pressed kisses to his skin as he pulled him through it. It was only once Nyx was spent that Willy rose up, gripped his hips, and fucked him the way he'd been taunting. He kept a firm grip on Nyx's narrow hips and used him ruthlessly for his own pleasure.
He came with a savage snarl, sinking deep.
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Nyx let out a soft whine, but it was obvious he was enjoying every moment as Willy fucked him and came.
"Fuck," he swore softly.
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Willy let go and let Nyx drop to the bed. A moment later, he fell heavily beside him.
One hand laid heavily on Nyx's ass.
"Fuck," he agreed.
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Nyx wiggled his way closer, curling up against the other man.
"You really want to make music with me again?" he asked, voice a bit rougher now, a bit tired.
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As Nyx squirmed closer, Willy pulled him in.
"Yeah, I do," he said softly.
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"I want to make music with you too," Nyx said softly, pressing a kiss to his chest.
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Willy kissed his hair softly, then breathed him in.
"Sleep," he whispered.
He otdered Nyx because he wasn't sure he could keep his own eyes open much longer.
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Nyx didn't need to be told twice, still holding onto Willy as he drifted off.
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Willy drifted off, Nyx held close and secure. At some point in his sleep he let go, but he never got far and never lost contact.
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The next day Nyx turned up after his table read, just as he'd promised. He was wearing an old faded t-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans, his guitar strapped to his back.
"I'm not too late, am I?"
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Most of the band had stopped to eat, paper sandwich wrappers all over a low table. Willy was fussing with his guitar, his sandwich untouched, ad smiled brightly when Nyx entered.
"Taking five," he said. "I told them you'd be here soon."
He rose and crossed to him, leaning in near his ear.
"The drummer is outside having a smoke. He might come in his pants if you look at him," he chuckled.
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Nyx blushed, then laughed a bit.
"You're so full of it," he snorted. "I kind of thought it was just going to be the two of us, since we've not actually written anything yet."
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