Classic Rock Oneshots

Since I've been loving you

The pair of John Paul Jones and Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin. IDK ship name:

John Paul Jones twiddled his thumbs as he sat on the kitchen counter. If Robert were here he most likely would have scolded him, asking to sit somewhere more preferable; such as his lap. But no, Robert wasn't here.

It was so badly that Jonesy wanted a drink, just a glass of wine to give him that extra boost of confidence, but he knew he'd look like a hypocrite when facing up to Robert. He was half asleep when the door finally swung open, and he was just rubbing his eyes and yawning cutely when the blonde in question stumbled into the kitchen. The curly-haired man barely noticed his patiently awaiting lover as he dug around the cupboards looking for a drink.

"You're shit-faced again," Jonesy stated matter-of-factly, trying not to let his voice waver with vulnerable emotions. Robert jumped a little when he finally noticed his mousey partner.

"Oh. Jonesy? What are you doing still up, my dear? You ought to be asleep by now." he slurred and staggered closer to the older yet smaller man, standing between his legs and attempting to rub his thighs in a calming way, but all that came from it was the horrible icky feeling Jonesy got when Robert touched him.

"You, Robert Plant, ought to be ashamed of yourself." Jonesy continued, ignoring his lover's question. He bit his lip to stop it from shaking and wouldn't let himself get roped into Robert's drunk wooing. The blonde's hands kept going a little higher on the smaller man's thighs and Jonesy grabbed his wrists quickly before he made a move to do anything else.

"Are you even listening to me? I may as well tell all this to a bloody pole!" he growls, but Robert being Robert simply found it a turn on.

"I'll listen to you, but you have to promise you'll be loud," he smirks, biting his lip semi-seductively.

"Oh fuck off, Robert. I know you can hear me, I'm loud enough." he grunts, annoyed with his heavy intoxicated partner.

"I meant when I'm fucking you, darling. I want you to scream." he chuckles as if it was a joke, but Jonesy doesn't find it funny in the slightest. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he threw himself off of the kitchen bench, shoving Robert harshly in the chest.

"I'll be at Bonzo's if you need me," he mutters, storming past the blonde. "I fucking doubt you will, you've got a long list of whores to look after you instead!" he then shouts as he trudges up the wooden stairs, tears making his vision foggy.

Robert had only waddled disorientedly into the lounge by the time Jonesy had backed a bag and put his overcoat on.

"Oh, sweetheart, why are you leaving?" he asks, tugging on Jonesy's sleeve and then pulling his small body against him by the belt loops of his long coat.

Jonesy was a very calm, collected man, but now he simply pushed Robert away from him forcefully, yelling so loud his voice box begged for his mercy: "You come home drunk all the time! And when you're not drunk, you're out! You only ever even dare to spare me a glance when you're randy and want a shag from me! I serve no other purpose to you! I'm a sex machine and that is it!" he cries, finally letting his soft tears fall onto his round cheeks. "You don't notice when I clean the house before you come home, or when I make you a lovely dinner, or when I wash your car for you! And how come? Because you're a drunken fucking mess all the time!" he yells, grabbing a small photo of the two of them off of the mantelpiece and throwing it under his foot.

The photograph of them both was taken on Jonesy's birthday when Robert and him were playing in their friend's pool and Jonesy was sitting on Robert's shoulders as they played a game with their bandmates and friends. It had been a sunny day, and both men were smiling at each other happily.