When The Sun Goes Down (Steddie)

Flesh for Fantasy

The next couple of hours were a whirlwind for Steve. Eddie did his best to pay as much attention to Steve as possible, but between setting up their gear, soundcheck, haggling over their pay with the manager, and the plethora of girls that gravitated towards the band, Steve ended up just hanging out at the bar. Eddie had been correct. When Steve asked for a beer, no one even bothered to question his age. And when he tried to pay for it, he was informed that the band and crew drink for free.

Steve glanced over at Eddie, semi-surrounded by a pack of young women. They were fawning over him, touching him when they could, vying for his attention. Eddie just stood there, full of a cocky arrogance that Steve thought was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. But the part that Steve liked the most was that no matter how many girls there were trying to get Eddie's attention, Eddie's attention stayed on Steve. Sure, he made a show of flirting and lavishing attention on all of them, but his eyes never left Steve, not for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

When Corroded Coffin took the stage, Steve pushed his way up front. He wanted to be as close to Eddie as he could get. He parked himself on the left side of the stage, directly in front of Eddie, and Eddie grinned at him when he saw him there. They were within arm's reach of each other. Since the stage was little more than a glorified platform at one end of the bar, Eddie was slightly taller, looking down at Steve. Steve stared up at him with something akin to hero worship when the band tore into their first song.

The rest of the band could have not been there for all Steve cared. For a brief moment, Gareth on drums, Grant on bass, and Jeff on vocals and rhythm guitar were on stage with Eddie, but then Eddie started playing lead guitar and everything else disappeared for Steve. It was just him and Eddie. Even the other fans clamoring around, reaching and jumping and moshing didn't exist.

The only thing Steve could see was Eddie, the way his hips moved against his guitar as he played, like he was making love to it. Steve imagined what it would feel like to have Eddie move that way against him. The pounding music coursed through his body, his arousal growing as Eddie personified sex on that stage. When Eddie stepped towards the edge of the stage and dropped to his knees, they were face to face. Steve saw all the other hands that immediately fell on Eddie, so many people trying to touch him. Steve took advantage of it and laid a hand on Eddie's thigh. Their eyes met and Eddie winked. Then Steve noticed what song they were playing. It was Animal (Fuck Like a Beast) . Steve grinned and Eddie's eyes went dark and sultry.

Steve slid his hand up Eddie's thigh and Eddie lifted his guitar for just a moment before settling it back over Steve's hand, obscuring the fact that his fingers were now brushing Eddie's erection. Steve wondered for a moment if he got that hard every time he played or was it just Steve that brought that out in him. He didn't care. Either way, Eddie's dick was hard, and Steve's hand was only a fraction of an inch from it. Eddie shifted his hips then and suddenly Steve was cupping him. He squeezed and Eddie rocked his hips, pushing his erection into Steve's hand.

Steve inched closer, as close as he could get without falling into Eddie on the low stage. People pushed and shoved; the crowd pulsed with the music. Girls hung over Steve, trying to get to Eddie. They stroked his hair, his face, as Steve stroked his dick. Eddie fucked his hand, driving into it, keeping beat with the music. He fell forward, his head next to Steve's, but not so that it was obvious, not with the other people all clamoring for him as well. Eddie breathed heavily into Steve's ear.

"I'm going to come."

Steve felt the words even more than he heard them over the loud music. He squeezed Eddie's dick, caressed it, letting his fingers slide along the outline of it in his jeans. Eddie threw his head back, pumped his hips. To anyone else it looked like he was humping his guitar. But Steve knew it was more. Steve had his dick practically in hand. It was throbbing; the droplets of pre-come that were leaking from it seeped through the fabric and Steve could feel the sticky warmth against his fingers. He stroked harder; he wanted Eddie to come for him, right there in front of all these people, while Jeff growled out the filthy lyrics of the song.