YOUNGBLOOD (apply fic)

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒- 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾

if there was one thing that paris bianchi enjoyed more than peanut m&m's, single vacations without being bothered, goldfish crackers, and tim burton movies: it's pleasure.

and when he means pleasure, he means pleasure.

it's like being high without taking drugs. it's like being drunk without actually drinking.

it was probably the only time he's ever felt wanted and amazing all at once. he's never said no to pleasure and if he ever did then he would probably scold himself for it.

but the way it just comes to him on a golden platter with his name on it makes it even better.

going to clubs or events with the band meant he always met new people. most of them were assholes, yeah.

but some of them were just lonely and needed someone to care for them for at least one night. paris would think the same but he would never say it.

he's heard atlas and willow talk separately about how love is the best feeling ever. it's a pleasure for the heart and a blessing to the soul.

then why the hell does it hurt so much?

paris thought love wasn't in his path anytime soon. he was always working or too busy being angry at something.

but when the band did their shot hiatus, everything changed for him.

he was able to get a really good apartment in new york that he was allowed to spend money on and decorate it just for him.

hell, he even learned how to put a table together that was from ikea.

he didn't have worry about meetings, fans, studio time, schedules, nothing that was band related.

he was able to sleep in his own bed without feeling on edge because he has a fear of spirits from hotels that are gonna come back to haunt him because his mother would tell him stories about murders in hotels.

he was able to go on walks for fun, go to library's because he enjoyed the silence inside them, try out different adulting styles, and his favorite thing was sobering up.

his perspective on the world changed.

yes, he definitely hated most people. but he soon realized not everyone was like his parents.

there were people just as lonely as he was.

going to sobriety meetings sounded stupid to him at first and he refused. but his sponsor eventually convinced paris to go.

and after hearing from so many different people about their stories and experiences, he's never felt to seen in his entire life.

going on tour a lot meant a lot of parties and drinking and so many other things. paris doesn't remember half of the band's last tour because of how drunk or high off his ass he was even though he was really good at hiding it.

but now, he's found another way to get high without ruining his body.

it's sex.

well, oral sex in this case.

"fuck, just like that."

he couldn't help but moan when gwen, the woman he basically met thirty minutes ago, bobbed her head up and down on his length.

she took him as deep as she could. and whatever she couldn't fit she simply jacked him off. her red lip stick smearing all over him but neither of them cared.