A/N - Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. For entertainment, nonprofit purposes only.
This part contains explicit sexual content.
I dedicate this chapter to the lovely & talented FutureAlien
***
Night enraged,
Locked in a cage
Well I'm breaking out
I'm gonna scream and shout
***
Alex
I am backstage sitting on a discarded amp, and I can feel my whole body pulsing, my pulse speeding up and I am trembling, curling my lip, clutching a cigarette tighter, smoke - light and silver mingling around my head, and my vision is getting blurry but I don’t blame it on smoke, or a cigarette. I bite my lower lip and I stare, stare to the hands, and fingers, pale and smooth toned muscles, and I bite my lower lip harder, knowing my hand will be the one that will leave the mark, little invisible prints and scratches. I exhale another plum of smoke as my gaze wanders over to the stage, where there is a performance on display and blend of passion, anger and sin, wrapped in tight black jeans.
"You're gonna get it,
You're gonna get it now
I'm gonna show you,
I'm gonna show you how"
My eyes dart to the light curve of perfect firm muscle. Too much of a tease. He is angry and gorgeous and his lips match the lipstick hue (red as his leather jacket), but he wears none, only light, shiny trail of saliva where he swiped the flesh with his tongue. Tongue that fits so good in my mouth, bitter and sweet all in one. I see his strong arms wrapping a microphone stand, and he is shaking his head, his buzzcut hair getting blurry and split in frames, frame by frame passes filled with lust. I am tingling, both inside and outside. I stand up and crash the cigarette with the heel of my black suede boot. I hear cheers from the crowd and clapping and mumbled “thank you“ and my heart is racing, and a heart machine would match the white and red stripes of his top that wraps his body so beautifully under the leather jacket. His skin is shining of sweat as he approaches the curtain, and he looks honey, but I taste salt as he pulls me close wrapping his arms around me and I lick the side of his neck. He purrs slightly, but nothing in that sweet kitten style, more like a tiger, ready to attack. And he does, as he pushes me back to the amp, and steps between my parted legs. He grips my sides with his hands, and lowers his head, meeting my for a kiss that burns my lips, like no whisky could. He takes my upper lip between his, and all I feel is soft and wet and hot… an opposite of my hard want. He pulls away with a nip of my lower lip as his hand slides between my legs. His arm is now wrapping around the small of my back, and as he pulls me closer his other hand pushes harder against me and I whimper. He smiles, curling his gorgeous wet lips a bit, as I clutch my hands around the black silk of his scarf and I untie the knot, and watch as fabric slides down over his smooth neck. I press my head closer, feeling heat radiating of his chest as I press my tongue against his collarbone, and I taste salt again as my tongue swipes across. His hands tangle in my hair and he pushes his tongue deep inside my panting mouth and I taste beer and he is pressing at all the rights spots inside my mouth and I go dizzy.
”Miles” I gasp looking worried around me but he only shushes me as he pushes me towards the doors of the small backstage room. They shut close with a soft click. His red leather jacket falls down as he discards it with a grin.
His hazel eyes are shining like the black silk under the dim lights and he takes my wrists in his hands, kissing my pulse and I shut my eyes.
”Lie down”
His tone is slow and sweet and he follows me down on a carpet kneeling by my side as his lips join mine again. My hands roam under his tank top, and I rub at his soon hard nipples and he moans as I gently pinch one. He blinks and pushes his hips against me and I feel denim scratching over mine.
”See how hard I want you!” He gasps the words out with each push, and I arch my back. He pulls my wrists and wraps the scarf around it tying a firm knot in a neat bow. As if I am a present, and I am… for him. He trails his calloused fingers lightly down over my naked stretched arms and I shiver under his touch. He pulls the shoulder of my top aside, and showers the bare skin with hungry kisses. His breath is hot against my neck as he straddles my arched leg and starts to rub himself. I gasp and his dark eyes are pure want as his hand reaches under my top, and he plays with my nipple and I shudder. He stops and I crave for his touch but he only grins and his hands leave my body and he wraps them around himself pulling his top away. His short hair is sweaty as his head appears again under the fabric and he is slowly trailing his hand over his smooth chest, fingers tangling the gold chains, driving me mad, as he reaches his simple belt and undoes the buckle. I hear metal clinking and he is pulling his jeans down slowly along with his boxers. I see his hip bones and trail of black hair, smooth and soft under his navel where it follows lower and widens. His fast hands and long expert fingers quickly peel the jeans of my legs. Belt and denim and boots discarded away with a soft thud. I sigh and wait, as he straddles my waist and he flashes that wicked grin as his knees frame my shoulders and he slightly lowers himself. I smile and he cups my neck with his hand, gently lifting it up until my lips touch his cock and he shudders, his eyelids falling down, eyelashes black and thick. I push my head up more, licking him, slowly closing my lips around him, lightly sucking. He whimpers, and his fingers are massaging the back of my neck and I hear him moaning and I almost black out as his other hand reaches towards his mouth, his long fingers thoroughly sucked in the motion of my mouth around him. I shift under him slightly, pressing my back further down and rising my legs higher, my heels pushing harder into the carpet. He reaches down and he pushes his two long fingers in. I whimper as he pushes slowly in and out and presses harder at the back of my head and my eyes fly open. He shakes his head; his eyes glinting with mischief, but only for a moment as he moves away and leaves my mouth. His fingers leave me too, and his lips seal a kiss over mine. He spreads my legs as he settles between them and he pushes in. He bites his lip hard, as he pulls out again and pushes in; intense but slow.
”Feel that baby?” He is murmuring, his hands on the side of my head and I wrap my legs around his hips, forcing him closer. We both yelp and I lift my arms and he slides the scarf down, and I feel the burn and he groans as I dig my hands in the muscles of his firm back, and I slide my hands lower, squeezing his arse and he gasps pushing inside me faster.
”Fuck” He murmurs and he bites my swollen lower lip and I rock my hips faster against him and we are now both shaking. He presses his forehead against mine and I feel his hot breath over my face and it burns… it burns inside me and outside where he wraps his hand around my cock and I close my eyes and all I see is black and I hear his grunts and it is such a turn on and I cry out his name, and he is moaning “Alex“ in a low husky tone as death fires. Little death, la petite mort*; killing us both, and we burn at the night. He wraps his strong arms around me and he pulls out and he cradles my head against his chest. He is kissing my cheek and I shiver as he scratches his stubble against my face. He only smiles as he reaches for his top and I smooth mine. A silly act really, considering my jeans are missing.
”That will be a damn good video you did there” I smirk
”Yeah I know” He curls his lips around a cigarette and I watch him smoke.
”You should do more videos like that,” I say snatching the fag back.
”Let’s go home” He smiles then adds biting my earlobe ”You can hold the camera”
*Lyrics: Miles Kane - You're Gonna Get It
* La petite mort is an expression which means "the brief loss or weakening of consciousness" and in modern usage refers specifically to "the sensation of orgasm as likened to death".
