FINALLY
Also posted to _comingclean_
Title: Spell (Part 3 of the series)
Series: Inhuman
Author: blowjobsalways
Pairings: Billie/Tre, Tre/Mike, implied OT3
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't know the guys, yadda yadda...
Notes: Shitty, lead in (but a bit of that is on purpose), kinky vampire sex- er- I guess that means bloodplay or something- but you don't really see much of the blood part.
Part 1 can be found here.
Part 2 is here.
(they're links to the one's in my journal, not _comingclean_)
He was so fucking tired. The hunger, the shows, the hunger, the schedule, the practice-
Billie fell into sleep yet again. He’d been dosing off all day. When he next awoke, however, it was dark. Fuck- dark equals show time- it was the autopilot rule he’d made over the last little bit. Crap.
Groggily, he slid from the couch onto his feet, not even noticing Tre blocking his path in the hall. Soon enough though, he had to notice- and he did, right around the third time he tried to walk through that thing that was in the way, and realized it was a person.
Tre caught his wrists by means of which he steered the smaller man back to the couch and set him down with a blanket.
“Rough day Bill?”
“Tre hurry up- we have to go do a show. Now- it’s the 16th, so I think we’re in Atlanta, but I’m not sure. Are we in Atlanta?”
“Billie it’s the 2nd and we’re in Toronto. This is our rest day. Sleep. Or come watch some women’s wrestling with me.”
Hopefully a joke would ease his spirits, Tre figured, but no such luck. Billie was suddenly supplied with a deep, saddened energy, and he looked up.
“You shouldn’t be in here. Alone. With me. Where’s Mike? Go see Mike.”
Reluctantly, he started towards the door. There weren’t many things Tre gave up on.
“Billie- I… just… you’ll be ok- is all,” he whispered.
“I said get THE FUCK out!” Billie all but screamed, so suddenly that Tre jumped, and was infused with defiance, objection to doing just that. The Cool never gave up, dammit!
“Billie I-” he shut his words, his harsh argument away almost as soon as it left his lips. He felt that whimper. Billie was shaking behind him. Taking a risk and knowing it, Tre turned round. “I don’t want to be safe. I want you Billie.”
He was across the room and holding his lover in his arms in seconds.
Billie sunk. Secretly he’d been begging someone, anyone, to touch him like this. To care for him like this. But even Mike he’d pushed away, for fear of what he might do.
“I haven’t had you in so long Bill,” Tre continued. “Hell, I’ve hardly even seen you. You’re always locking yourself away to think about what happened, when you should be out trying to deal with it.”
Shakily, after some hesitation, Tre pressed on. “W-who cares if you bite some one?”- pause- “Who cares if you bite me?” -another pause in which Tre was reduced (in a turn of the tables) to a whisper - “Who cares?”
In an instant, what previously lay pooled at Billie’s feet sprung up to consume the man in front of him. The will, the dominant urges, the bloodlust urged Billie on, to stand straight and attack Tre’s soft lips in an effort to show him just who was in charge. Not that Tre needed to be told.
He just whimpered a little, smiled a little, and tried to keep up.
Billie understood now, and it was glorious; understood why Mike had taken him, understood why he was ruthless, and why it felt so good…
Because they both wanted it to happen.
And now Tre was pushing himself against him, clawing at his chest, as if attempting to crawl inside, and be bitten, and give in.
But oh, now his drummer was pulling him down onto the couch, and fuck, he wanted inside. He wanted to devour him. He wanted pain and pleasure - Tre grasped at his hardening crotch - oh, oh, yes, pleasure.
“I like that,” Billie snarled, shoving his hips against Tre blindly. “God, you sexy fucker.” Reaching down and unbuttoning Tre’s shirt, Billie drove his lips low to tear at his lover’s. He was hungry alright.
A smile crept on the drummer’s face. Why had he ever feared this? Gingerly, he grasped Billie’s eager hand and placed it on his chest. The last time Billie had been on top, he had come hard because Billie looked so cute up there, and innocence turned him on. Now it was his own innocence he fed on. As determined hands slid him out of his shirt, Tre kept the ‘victim’ frame of mind. Because, Billie didn’t look so cute this time. No, now, he looked like a sexy little rapist, and it was one of Tre’s kinks to like it that way.
“Please fuck me,” went straight to Billie’s cock, and shit, it better not still be in his pants. Rearranging his priorities, the singer sat up and shed his black trousers (and boxers) as fast as he could. Gesturing, he laid a hand on Tre’s waistband.
“Only if you get this off.”
Tre was so fast and obedient that he nearly blew his load right then and there.
It took Billie a second to remember that they needed lube. Tre stretched underneath him to reach it on the coffee table, and the vampire of the two stroked his cock absently at the sight.
He jumped when a hand closed over his, the one between his legs. It was cold, and slimy, and was starting to move. He let out a groan and threw his arms down on either side of his lover to support himself- support himself while Tre slicked his dick with tantalizingly delicious ignorance.
“Is this good Billie?”
“Ohhh… oh fuck yes, so good sir… I mean-” he cursed under his breath and Tre had to grin. Whatever the situation, Billie could never fully escape his wanton tendencies. Just like he could never quite escape wanting attention, no matter much he tried to help it. It was just a part of him.
As if to retaliate, Billie thrust up into his lover, and began to move. No so much hard as it was desperate. And Tre forgot about his singer’s sex-slave habits. What with that cock pressing against his prostate, in a paralysing, undulation rhythm, it was a strain to remember anything at all. Every pump sent a hot shockwave up his spine.
Take, take, take… was the best word to describe Billie’s intentions. Take it, because he’s mine, all mine, and it feels so good. And as he moved, he couldn’t stop himself. It was a spell, of sacred motion, rolling hips, and ‘fuck’ was its incantation. His cock was red, and bursting. Tre was welcoming, with a cute, soft ass, and expression of pleasure that could make a lesbian ejaculate. Billie took more.
Gradually, his intentions illustrated themselves like instructions in his mind. Instinct and desire melted into one in the heat of his lust. The urge to feed was too strong. He fucked harder, and grasped his lover’s wrist in one hand. For a split second, Tre’s face changed into that of solemn acceptance, but then, just as soon, he was moaning and tossing again.
“Please…! Billie…”
Obeying Tre’s feeble plea, Billie felt his fangs pulse with the urge to imbed themselves with his lover. He’d felt the same thing in his cock numerous times. Licking his lips, and making sure to keep the rhythm, he grasped Tre’s wrist and kissed it once. The blood pumped viciously beneath the skin. Following the succulent trail, he pressed his tongue to the vein and dragged upwards, up, until he reached the neck. And ohh god, the smell got him hotter, made his dick swell and plead, do it now.
Faster, closer, driving himself to the edge, Billie paid attention to his timing. He held his breath and waited. Waited, until finally, his lover gasped at a particular fill and Billie plunged his teeth in as far as they would go.
With a strangled scream, Tre’s fingernails dug into his back. That- and everything- made him come all the more violent. His lover was thrashing up, and fuck, he was thrashing down, and they met with sparks every time. Retracting a little, the only thing in Billie’s sight was the trickle of red flowing out of two puncture marks. He bent his head low and drank. Finally, consuming the man underneath him.
And Tre’s orgasm began again- either that or he’d just gotten louder. His voice was low, and phallic- the perfect background for a bit of sucking. The second the blood fell down Billie’s throat, his head felt as if it had exploded. It coursed through his body, lighting a trail of full-bodied sex. He screamed, muffled against Tre’s skin. He was in hell, oh sweet hell, nice and warm, with sin in his hold, and death in his mouth. Closing his eyes and finishing his meal, Billie grabbed blindly for his lovers hand, grasped it, and came so hard he passed out.
Tre held him there, suddenly, horribly alone. The night had grown pitch black, and all he knew what the lump on top of him, and his own irregular heartbeat. Billie was now peacefully asleep in his arms, as if it were any other night between them. Except now Tre knew they would never have another night like that. No, from now on, it would probably be more like tonight- overly kinky, and to fucken meaningful. And while that was all good in doses, Tre had always had a fear of permanent change.
It was why he had so few tattoos, and why he was the last of the guys to jump on the American Idiot bandwagon. It was why he’d had two divorces and secretly been a little relieved, and why he never stopped moving and trying to get a reaction from everyone. Still, going back on his word never ever occurred to him. Except now, god, now was a shitty a time to change his mind.
The fluorescent light clicked on at the bus ceiling. Mike’s eyes were wide, but a little bit dead. Icy eyes flickered to the fresh bite mark.
“He did it then?”
Tre nodded, holding back tears.
Mike crossed the room to kiss him softly
“There’s a reason I took him and not you,” the bassist muttered, kneeling beside the pull-out sofa. “Are you ok?”
“I guess I wanted it for a reason,” Tre whispered in reply. “Things always seem to work out with us.”
Smiling suddenly, Mike pulled back his sleeve and extended his wrist to the man in front of him. The fluids just underneath seemed to glow.
“Here- you need some.”
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Snuggles?
Title: Spell (Part 3 of the series)
Series: Inhuman
Author: blowjobsalways
Pairings: Billie/Tre, Tre/Mike, implied OT3
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't know the guys, yadda yadda...
Notes: Shitty, lead in (but a bit of that is on purpose), kinky vampire sex- er- I guess that means bloodplay or something- but you don't really see much of the blood part.
Part 1 can be found here.
Part 2 is here.
(they're links to the one's in my journal, not _comingclean_)
He was so fucking tired. The hunger, the shows, the hunger, the schedule, the practice-
Billie fell into sleep yet again. He’d been dosing off all day. When he next awoke, however, it was dark. Fuck- dark equals show time- it was the autopilot rule he’d made over the last little bit. Crap.
Groggily, he slid from the couch onto his feet, not even noticing Tre blocking his path in the hall. Soon enough though, he had to notice- and he did, right around the third time he tried to walk through that thing that was in the way, and realized it was a person.
Tre caught his wrists by means of which he steered the smaller man back to the couch and set him down with a blanket.
“Rough day Bill?”
“Tre hurry up- we have to go do a show. Now- it’s the 16th, so I think we’re in Atlanta, but I’m not sure. Are we in Atlanta?”
“Billie it’s the 2nd and we’re in Toronto. This is our rest day. Sleep. Or come watch some women’s wrestling with me.”
Hopefully a joke would ease his spirits, Tre figured, but no such luck. Billie was suddenly supplied with a deep, saddened energy, and he looked up.
“You shouldn’t be in here. Alone. With me. Where’s Mike? Go see Mike.”
Reluctantly, he started towards the door. There weren’t many things Tre gave up on.
“Billie- I… just… you’ll be ok- is all,” he whispered.
“I said get THE FUCK out!” Billie all but screamed, so suddenly that Tre jumped, and was infused with defiance, objection to doing just that. The Cool never gave up, dammit!
“Billie I-” he shut his words, his harsh argument away almost as soon as it left his lips. He felt that whimper. Billie was shaking behind him. Taking a risk and knowing it, Tre turned round. “I don’t want to be safe. I want you Billie.”
He was across the room and holding his lover in his arms in seconds.
Billie sunk. Secretly he’d been begging someone, anyone, to touch him like this. To care for him like this. But even Mike he’d pushed away, for fear of what he might do.
“I haven’t had you in so long Bill,” Tre continued. “Hell, I’ve hardly even seen you. You’re always locking yourself away to think about what happened, when you should be out trying to deal with it.”
Shakily, after some hesitation, Tre pressed on. “W-who cares if you bite some one?”- pause- “Who cares if you bite me?” -another pause in which Tre was reduced (in a turn of the tables) to a whisper - “Who cares?”
In an instant, what previously lay pooled at Billie’s feet sprung up to consume the man in front of him. The will, the dominant urges, the bloodlust urged Billie on, to stand straight and attack Tre’s soft lips in an effort to show him just who was in charge. Not that Tre needed to be told.
He just whimpered a little, smiled a little, and tried to keep up.
Billie understood now, and it was glorious; understood why Mike had taken him, understood why he was ruthless, and why it felt so good…
Because they both wanted it to happen.
And now Tre was pushing himself against him, clawing at his chest, as if attempting to crawl inside, and be bitten, and give in.
But oh, now his drummer was pulling him down onto the couch, and fuck, he wanted inside. He wanted to devour him. He wanted pain and pleasure - Tre grasped at his hardening crotch - oh, oh, yes, pleasure.
“I like that,” Billie snarled, shoving his hips against Tre blindly. “God, you sexy fucker.” Reaching down and unbuttoning Tre’s shirt, Billie drove his lips low to tear at his lover’s. He was hungry alright.
A smile crept on the drummer’s face. Why had he ever feared this? Gingerly, he grasped Billie’s eager hand and placed it on his chest. The last time Billie had been on top, he had come hard because Billie looked so cute up there, and innocence turned him on. Now it was his own innocence he fed on. As determined hands slid him out of his shirt, Tre kept the ‘victim’ frame of mind. Because, Billie didn’t look so cute this time. No, now, he looked like a sexy little rapist, and it was one of Tre’s kinks to like it that way.
“Please fuck me,” went straight to Billie’s cock, and shit, it better not still be in his pants. Rearranging his priorities, the singer sat up and shed his black trousers (and boxers) as fast as he could. Gesturing, he laid a hand on Tre’s waistband.
“Only if you get this off.”
Tre was so fast and obedient that he nearly blew his load right then and there.
It took Billie a second to remember that they needed lube. Tre stretched underneath him to reach it on the coffee table, and the vampire of the two stroked his cock absently at the sight.
He jumped when a hand closed over his, the one between his legs. It was cold, and slimy, and was starting to move. He let out a groan and threw his arms down on either side of his lover to support himself- support himself while Tre slicked his dick with tantalizingly delicious ignorance.
“Is this good Billie?”
“Ohhh… oh fuck yes, so good sir… I mean-” he cursed under his breath and Tre had to grin. Whatever the situation, Billie could never fully escape his wanton tendencies. Just like he could never quite escape wanting attention, no matter much he tried to help it. It was just a part of him.
As if to retaliate, Billie thrust up into his lover, and began to move. No so much hard as it was desperate. And Tre forgot about his singer’s sex-slave habits. What with that cock pressing against his prostate, in a paralysing, undulation rhythm, it was a strain to remember anything at all. Every pump sent a hot shockwave up his spine.
Take, take, take… was the best word to describe Billie’s intentions. Take it, because he’s mine, all mine, and it feels so good. And as he moved, he couldn’t stop himself. It was a spell, of sacred motion, rolling hips, and ‘fuck’ was its incantation. His cock was red, and bursting. Tre was welcoming, with a cute, soft ass, and expression of pleasure that could make a lesbian ejaculate. Billie took more.
Gradually, his intentions illustrated themselves like instructions in his mind. Instinct and desire melted into one in the heat of his lust. The urge to feed was too strong. He fucked harder, and grasped his lover’s wrist in one hand. For a split second, Tre’s face changed into that of solemn acceptance, but then, just as soon, he was moaning and tossing again.
“Please…! Billie…”
Obeying Tre’s feeble plea, Billie felt his fangs pulse with the urge to imbed themselves with his lover. He’d felt the same thing in his cock numerous times. Licking his lips, and making sure to keep the rhythm, he grasped Tre’s wrist and kissed it once. The blood pumped viciously beneath the skin. Following the succulent trail, he pressed his tongue to the vein and dragged upwards, up, until he reached the neck. And ohh god, the smell got him hotter, made his dick swell and plead, do it now.
Faster, closer, driving himself to the edge, Billie paid attention to his timing. He held his breath and waited. Waited, until finally, his lover gasped at a particular fill and Billie plunged his teeth in as far as they would go.
With a strangled scream, Tre’s fingernails dug into his back. That- and everything- made him come all the more violent. His lover was thrashing up, and fuck, he was thrashing down, and they met with sparks every time. Retracting a little, the only thing in Billie’s sight was the trickle of red flowing out of two puncture marks. He bent his head low and drank. Finally, consuming the man underneath him.
And Tre’s orgasm began again- either that or he’d just gotten louder. His voice was low, and phallic- the perfect background for a bit of sucking. The second the blood fell down Billie’s throat, his head felt as if it had exploded. It coursed through his body, lighting a trail of full-bodied sex. He screamed, muffled against Tre’s skin. He was in hell, oh sweet hell, nice and warm, with sin in his hold, and death in his mouth. Closing his eyes and finishing his meal, Billie grabbed blindly for his lovers hand, grasped it, and came so hard he passed out.
Tre held him there, suddenly, horribly alone. The night had grown pitch black, and all he knew what the lump on top of him, and his own irregular heartbeat. Billie was now peacefully asleep in his arms, as if it were any other night between them. Except now Tre knew they would never have another night like that. No, from now on, it would probably be more like tonight- overly kinky, and to fucken meaningful. And while that was all good in doses, Tre had always had a fear of permanent change.
It was why he had so few tattoos, and why he was the last of the guys to jump on the American Idiot bandwagon. It was why he’d had two divorces and secretly been a little relieved, and why he never stopped moving and trying to get a reaction from everyone. Still, going back on his word never ever occurred to him. Except now, god, now was a shitty a time to change his mind.
The fluorescent light clicked on at the bus ceiling. Mike’s eyes were wide, but a little bit dead. Icy eyes flickered to the fresh bite mark.
“He did it then?”
Tre nodded, holding back tears.
Mike crossed the room to kiss him softly
“There’s a reason I took him and not you,” the bassist muttered, kneeling beside the pull-out sofa. “Are you ok?”
“I guess I wanted it for a reason,” Tre whispered in reply. “Things always seem to work out with us.”
Smiling suddenly, Mike pulled back his sleeve and extended his wrist to the man in front of him. The fluids just underneath seemed to glow.
“Here- you need some.”
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Snuggles?