This is gonna be a very smutty book. hehehe.
but I know you guys have perfected the blank faces (iykyk)
Pairings we cann't get over.
[Pairing Requests are open. Mention in the comments section which couple you want.]
Dunk is smiling to himself, just leaning against the wall and appreciating the familiar full feeling. A nightly occurrence, or at least every night they had a show. They're on in a couple minutes. Joong is standing next to him, drumming absently on the wall.
"Ready?" Joong remarks and Dunk nods.
"As always," he says. Dunk nudges up against the wall, feeling that nice press, and he sighs. Joong notices. He grins. He slides over closer, turning to face him, and backstage is busy so nobody sees Joong's hand reach around Dunk's back to his ass, feeling for that little PVC rectangle, the base of the plug, and when his fingers find it he toys with it through Dunk's jeans, tilting it up, then down, shifting inside of Dunk, the plug pressing into the warm, sensitive insides of his ass, the pressing and the pressure against the lining making pleasure and pain bloom, ache, making Dunk sigh along and slow so he doesn't moan. This plug is bigger than the others. Joong was working him up. This is his first show wearing the new plug, and Dunk is so lubed up that it's probably making a mess of his boxers. Joong would be taking those later.
Dunk starlts a bit from his quick moment of pleasure as someone yells that they're going on and the lights go off and Joong steals a quick kiss and then there's a whisper, just audible, "Try not to cum in your jeans onstage," and Dunk laughs. He won't. Or at least he doesn't think he will. This is why he always wore his tightest jeans onstage, so they could hide anything should a problem arise, so to say. Dunk watches the shadows fade into silhouettes as they take the stage and the screaming gets louder and he smiles.
Yeah, this is what he loves to do, and having Joong as his dominant boyfriend who makes him wear butt plugs onstage really just makes him love it more. Those dirty looks from Joong mid-song are enough to make it worth it.
He waits for his cue for a few more seconds, reaching down the back of his jeans to straighten the plug a bit before he fits on his in-ears and shrugs his jacket a bit more comfortably before he walks into the light and the screaming rises a pitch as he takes the mic from its stand.
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The show goes as quickly and fiercely as it usually does. For the first few songs, Dunk keeps losing himself somewhere between the lyrics and the constant stirring in his jeans. Sure, a few of his notes come out sexier than he plans, borderline moans, but he's positive Joong loves it. There are coloured lights across the black of the stage and back stage dancer knocks into Dunk a couple times, but that's to be expected. Dunk stops caring about the plug about three songs in. He lets everything go and he dances and he ignores how tight his jeans are because he's fucking high right now and everything smells like sweat and guitar strings except for Dunk's fingers, which have the familiar scent of lube.
Dunk is an achy mess when the show is finally over. He towels off, throwing it into the crowd afterward, and Dunk downs a water bottle as Joong tosses out his last drumsticks. Joong watches him. The way his muscles move under his sweat-slick skin. Ugh.If he wasn't hard already. Dunk takes off his mic pack and his in-ears.
Joong goes straight to Dunk as soon as he is backstage. He grabs a fistful of Dunk's shirt and hisses in his ear, "You find an empty hall or a closet right now."
