Fic: Understanding
Title: Understanding
Rating: R
Pairing: Mick/Keith
Word Count: 2,013
Disclaimer: All events are completely fictitious.
AN// I got the idea from Keith's autobiography when he talks about being the one all Mick's wives and girlfriend cried too when he cheated. Hope you like it :)
“I can’t honestly fuckin’ believe you, man.” Keith yelled without preamble stalking into the room without knocking or invitation, to find his band mate gracefully lounging on a sofa reading a book.
Mick refused to tear his eyes from the page as he replied, flatly “What have a done now to incur you wrath?”
The black haired man was not in the mood for his band mate’s games and promptly snatched the book from Mick’s hands. Mick raised his eyebrows but made no attempt to retrieve the book.
“What you’ve done is had another affair, and I once again had to deal with it? Why the fuck did you want to get married if your plan was to sleep with as many women and men as humanly possible?”
Mick slowly sat up from the sofa and pieced his band mate with his blue eyes. “Why do marriage and monogamy have to go hand in hand?”
Keith looked back at him blankly. “What the hell are you talking about, that’s what marriage is. I told you not to do it.”
Mick let his eyes graze the carpet, becoming briefly fascinated with a pull in the blue cloth. Before looking up to Keith watching him intently, “What do you say to getting hideously drunk tonight?”
Keith grinned, willing to discuss the incident later. “Now that sounds like a plan.”
It had been months since the last time the glimmer twins had had a drink together with only the two of them; between marriages, recording and Gram Parsons it had just taken the back seat. Keith left briefly to grab an excessive amount of booze from his own vast stash.
Pouring two generous servings of Jim Beam, Keith picked up one and downed it in one go, Mick following suit.
Hours later both men were sprawled on the soft carpet, laughing at some unremembered joke one of them told. Keith pushed himself up to a sitting position in the mind to get another drink, but instead his eyes were directed back down to his long time friend. Despite everything; the drugs, the woman, the music, Brian, Anita; nothing in the world seemed more precious than moments like this. Just the two of them when Keith could be sure the kind and clever Michael Jagger still existed under the public shell and that somewhere within of himself survived a Keith Richards who believed in more than the sweet oblivion of heron. But now as he stared down at his friend, long brown hair spread about his head in parody of halo and his jeans clinging tightly to his slim hips, he felt something stirred inside his stomach more than pure friendship. The feeling itself wasn’t that unusual, it had felt it many times before towards the singer, and even in the past, Brian, but only in the heat of a concert or the electric atmosphere of the recording studio.
Shaking his head, he banished the thought from his head, and took a deep swing from the bottle for good measure. He passed the bottle to Mick’s expectant hand, and watched intrigued as his band mate also took a swing.
“So why do ya do it?” Keith said.
“Do what?” Mick replied in confusion, as carefully as possible placing the bottle upon the coffee table again.
Keith studied his friends face carefully unsure how to proceed, he wasn’t accusing him this time, just interested. “Why do ya fuck so often?”
Mick snorted at his friend bluntness. “Um... I guess the same reason everyone else does?” Mick managed to slur. He was silent for a moment before continuing in a low voice that made Keith’s insides catch on fire. “Sex, good sex, passionate sex is rough and unexpected; because there's nothing better than having random sex. But even if it is passionate you can't rush it, you have to explore every inch of your lover's body, make them want you with every fibre of their being. It’s the ultimate drug having them quivering under you begging for more, being in complete control."
Keith felt his mouth go dry. Mick shook his head, “But then that shouldn’t be too much of a surprise for you, you’ve always said I’m a control freak.” Mick laughed and reached for the bottle, completely obvious to effects his words had had on his best friend.
The singer poured the last of the bottle down his throat looking disappointed, slurring, “I guess that’s it.”
Keith’s blurring eyes scanned over the remaining glassware looking for a reason to prolong his stay, as it turned out he needn’t have bothered. It was very obvious as both men grappled at the coffee table to make it to a standing state that neither of them was going much further tonight; after all they had made quite an impressive dent in Keith’s alcohol collection.
“I think I’m going to have to stay here,” Keith mumbled as he watched the room spin before him.
Mick chuckled. “I guess so, only you’d better not mess up my beauty sleep, or... or else.”
Keith rolled his eyes. “As if you need beauty sleep you’re like the prettiest man I know, Mick.”
The black haired man cursed his inability to sensor his thoughts, but if Mick found anything amiss in this statement he didn’t show it. Using the walls for guidance the band mates slowly made it to the king sized bed in the middle of the room to collapse in a bundle of limbs.
Finally, extracting there body parts from each other, both stripped off their shirts as best they could and Mick managed to lean over an switch of the lamp and plunge the room into darkness. Keith lay on his back staring up at the ceiling finding despite the large amount of alcohol he had consumed that he was not the least bit tired. He bit his lip, the strange churning feeling was back in his stomach, which seemed to have nothing to do with his alcohol indulgence. It wasn’t as if Mick and himself hadn’t shared a bed when completely smashed before, he shouldn’t be feeling nearly as nervous as he was.
Keith tried to quite his mind by turning his ears to the sound of Mick’s soft breathing, it was so familiar and at the same time it created the most foreign reaction, Keith felt a heat in his nether regions he would give anything to forget about.
After a couple more painful minutes of lying in silence. Keith managed silence his mind, he had always worked better on instinct anyway, and let his hand wonder over to the other side of the bed stopping as it found its target in Mick’s arm. Keith froze as he heard a slight disturbance in his friends breathing, waiting in vain for Mick’s indignant voice to tell him to get out.
Slowly Keith’s confidence returned, as it often does when you are intoxicated, he let his fingers trail down Mick’s arm until they reached his wrist. Heart pounding in his throat, the guitarist turned his head, making out his band mates delicate features in the dim moonlight. With his long soft hair and pretty features Mick was the perfect picture of the androgyny that had overtaken the music business. Keith’s manhood gave an impatient throb, not for months, perhaps even years had Keith even felt excited about the prospect of sex, now he could think of nothing else.
Keith closed his eyes as his stomach tightened as he ran his hand across Mick's chest, stopping to lay over his pecs and hardened nipples. His own chest began to rise as he angled his hand down, feeling ribs and hard abs.
He knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop, it just felt too good. Keith took as sharp breath as he slid his hand over the bone protruding out of Mick’s slender hips. Imagining that bone pressing into him from above him, Keith shivered and his hand jerked down, right below his groin to the warmth of his thigh.
Gripping it lightly, Keith dragged his hand down and then back up, his fingers lightly dragging along the crease in Mick's tight jeans which was moulded over his groin. He moved to push the heel of his hand into the bulge in Mick's groin and cupped it lightly.
He heard Mick's sharp inhale and shifted so that he could stare at him. But he didn't get to look much because suddenly Mick was sitting straight up, knocking his hand away, looking confused and ... hurt? Mick’s usually blue eye’s glittered like onyx in the dim light, “Keith? What are you....? Please don’t.”
Keith withdrew his hand reluctantly; he growled deep down, why did he have to talk now? Discussion on this issue could hardly lead to anything good. Taking a deep breath, Keith met his friend’s eyes, ready to tell him as such, but was struck dumb at the amount of emotion that lay in their dark depths.
Mick brought his legs to his chest curling himself into the smallest ball possible. After a few minutes silence, which seemed to last for centuries, he started again in an oddly strained, “Please don’t make fun of me.”
“What?!” Keith ejected in surprise. “Make fun of you?”
Mick turned his head to the side in confusion, his long locks falling to one side. “Isn’t that what you were doing?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking ‘bout,” Keith replied, he was way too drunk for this, but the possible prize for his exertions kept him determined not to just leave and find somewhere less complicate to sleep.
Mick’s eye’s scanned Keith’s face carefully, “Oh... I thought... Marianne might have told...” He stopped briefly than said, “So what are you doing then?”
Keith shrugged, “I dunno you tell me, you’re the expert.”
Mick unfolded his long legs and Keith’s breath caught as his lean torso became exposed again. The singer lent forward agonisingly slowly, his soft hair falling forwards to frame his beautiful face. Finally their lips met electricity pulsing between them, Mick’s kiss was more intense than anything Keith had ever experienced, Mick pushed harder, deeper his tongue deftly stroking the inside of his mouth with a skill unmatched even by Anita Pallenberg.
Unable to resist any longer Keith growled, wrapping his arms around Mick’s slender waist and roughly bringing him crashing down on top of him. The next couple of minutes were spent in frenzied activity, Mick’s skill was undeniable he seemed to know exactly what would drive Keith completely crazy with want, a stroke here, a thrust there and Keith was practically whimpering bellow him, if Keith Richards could do anything as submissive as whimper.
Their bodies just fit in the same way their minds, personalities and musical expertise always had, it was a continuation of their completing one another in all areas. Soon both their clothes had been properly disposed of onto the floor, Mick’s lithe hand curled around Keith’s throbbing length. Keith’s bucked against the touch with impatience.
With a smirk the singer placed a steadying hand on his friend’s bony hip, savouring the moment kissing the inside of Keith’s upper thighs.
“Mick, please, God,” Keith moaned.
Finally, Mick’s soft lips found the area in need. Keith’s fingers reached down to entangle themselves in Mick’s hair as he thrust against Mick’s warm mouth. In response Mick dragged his nails roughly down Keith’s slim torso causing him to shudder with pleasure and pain. Mick’s practiced mouth brought Keith close to the brink, his other hand softly foundling his balls.
Keith felt his body tense up and let out a moan like he had never heard before, cumming right into Mick’s inviting mouth. Mick slowly withdrew his mouth and slid up Keith’s lip body. Placing a salty kiss on him mouth he rolled off him. Keith continued to breathe heavily for a few more minutes before turning to a face the singer again.
“I think I understand why you like it so much now,” Keith panted.
“Oh good,” Mick replied with a smirk.