(no subject)
TITLE: Invincible Tre, Part 7 (I lied. It's 8 parts.)
AUTHOR: wiccish
PAIRING: Billie/Tre
RATING: NC-17
PREVIOUS PARTS: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=wiccish&keyword=%2A&filter=all
NOTES: For WGDB and the Trillie lovers. Someday, I hope to finish this thing.
Mike stood still for a moment, eyeing Billie Joe, then went to the room Tre was sleeping in. He quietly opened the door, ascertained that he was, indeed, asleep and returned to Billie.
“Come with me,” he said, grabbing his friend’s wrist and pulling him toward the stairs.
“What,” Billie asked, giving way to a certain amount of trepidation, “are we doing?”
Mike kept his grip on a small, inked wrist, as though Billie might change his mind and bolt. He kept hold of him all the way up the stairs.
“You’ll see,” Mike replied, a determined look on his face.
They arrived in Tre’s bedroom to find it just as he’d left it the day he met Billie to go riding. The window was half-open, the bed a rumpled mess and a half-consumed bottle of tequila rested on the nightstand.
Mike continued his way to Tre’s large, walk-in closet. It was predictably full of jeans, shorts, tees and other shirts, many of which were bright spots of loud color.
“Uh, what exactly are we doing? Re-arranging his closet for him? Not sure that will cheer him up, Mike.”
Mike shook his head. He moved to a waist-high chest of drawers at the far end, and tugged it away from the wall. He gave it a good shove out of the way and then placed his hands along a wall panel.
Without the benefit of a handle or grip of any kind, the wall gave way and swung inward to reveal a darkened inner closet. Mike fumbled inside for a light switch.
Billie’s mouth hung open in surprise. “What the -- ?”
Mike grinned. “Tre’s private stash.”
Billie tried to see beyond Mike’s taller form. “He needs a whole closet for his weed and shit?”
“No,” Mike chuckled, reaching for Billie once more and pulling him inside the enclosure. “His other stash.”
Billie got fully inside and looked around wonderingly. Along one wall were all manner of sex toys and paraphernalia. Along the other was a rack of surprisingly organized costumes and outfits.
Silk and satin, sequins and feathers, somber black hoods attached to bondage gear, they were all arranged by color and use.
“Holeee shit,” Billie said. “I knew Tre liked his toys, but I had no idea…”
Mike was shuffling through the hangers on the rack, intent on finding a particular item.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Billie objected, “Wait one ass-fucking minute, Dirnt!” He had his hands on his hips and Mike glanced at him, a quizzical smile on his lips.
“Yes?” He continued going through the outfits, hanger by hanger.
“How is it that you know about this and I don’t?” Billie’s expression was a mixture of accusation and indignation.
Mike smirked the smirk of all smirks. “You’re a busy man, Billie Joe. Can’t expect you to carry the weight of all knowledge, now, can we?”
Mike’s crystalline blue eyes had a distinctive twinkle.
Billie’s bottom lip began to protrude. “I thought we agreed to be open with each other and…” Billie trailed off as he observed Mike’s focused search. “What the fuck are you looking for, anyway?”
Mike was going in reverse along the outfits, concentrating on the light colored items of clothing. If you could really call it clothing.
“Your nurse outfit. The one Tre got for you when we went up to the mountains last year, and I nearly bit it in that mudslide.”
“Oh. That outfit.”
Mike halted his search and looked up at his bandmate, who was blushing slightly.
“What? You’re taking care of Tre. You need a nurse outfit.”
“I ah -- well, I took it - home.”
Mike’s expressive eyebrows shot up. “Home?”
Billie knew he would never hear the end of this. He sighed. “Yeah. It kinda came in handy when Adrienne got a bad cold.”
Mike chewed the inside of his mouth in an effort to contain himself, but it didn’t work. He let out a snort of laughter that worked its way into a prolonged giggle.
Billie’s hands were on his hips again. “Listen, you are the last person to be giving me a hard time - - “
Mike couldn’t stand it. He grabbed Billie by the waist and pressed him up against the wall of toys, grabbing his chin in one hand to press a sudden kiss to those voluptuous lips.
Goddammit, he thought, he is fucking adorable when he’s pissed off!
The kiss seemed to mollify Billie somewhat, for he stopped struggling and his arms went around Mike’s neck.
However, when they came up for air, Billie pouted and said, “Besides, I don’t see why I should be the one to dress up and play nurse. I think - -“
“Practical reasons,” Mike muttered, going in for a second face suck. By the time they were once more pausing for oxygen, Mike continued, “Nothing Tre has will fit me. You, at least, are a similar height.”
Billie shot a dour look at his friend. Mike rolled his eyes and said, “Oh come on, tell me you don’t fucking love doing this. Just try and convince me.”
“Well,” Billie said, “it depends on what you expect me to wear.”
Mike rolled his eyes again and said in a low voice, “Then let’s get creative.”
******
“Would. You. Please. Hold. STILL!”
Mike paused and looked up at Billie, where he was perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, his feet resting on the edge of the bathtub. Mike was on the floor, the singer’s well-muscled calf in his hand, covered in shaving cream, while Mike drew the razor carefully in short, even strokes.
“Well fuck, it tickles,” Billie muttered, looking interested in the process in spite of himself.
“Sorry I didn’t think to loofah first,” Mike said sarcastically, which made Billie snigger.
“I just don’t see why I have to shave my legs to - -“
Mike sighed and looked up menacingly. “Don’t tempt me to use this on your throat.”
“Bad for the recording process,” Billie retorted, not all that bothered to have his legs made smooth by Michael’s long fingers. Adrienne was going to love it; she always did when he got all girly.
And hopefully, so would Tre. Mike’s answer to Tre’s doldrums was good, kinky sex and more of it.
“You’ve been coddling him,” Mike had surmised while they went through Tre’s extensive wardrobe.
“Well he’s hurting. You didn’t see him hit the pavement in a full-body dive. I did.”
“Needs more sex. That’s all.”
Sometimes, Billie thought Mike oversimplified things. Then again….
“Straighten your leg. I don’t want to hack up your knee.”
Billie complied and stifled a grin. This was actually quite nice, and he was getting an erection just watching.
“I suppose you want to go all the way up?”
Mike paused and glared again. “No, let’s just have your legs bare and hairy thighs and balls. It’s so sexy.”
Billie shrugged and leaned back a bit to admire Mike’s work thus far, extending his foot and pointing his toes.
“Hold STILL!” Mike growled, “And don’t be a diva.”
“Impossible. I am way too level-headed.”
Mike rolled his eyes and concentrated on his work.
******
Billie was naked, on his hands and knees, looking through the cabinets below the bathroom sink.
“What are you looking for?” Mike asked, coming into the room with several articles of clothing.
“Something to put on my skin. I am itching to death.”
“Lube?” Mike suggested. He appreciatively watched a very nice, tight, sweetly rounded, 39-year-old ass sway as its owner’s head appeared from inside the cabinet.
“Nope. This’ll do.” Billie had found some lotion and sat himself in the middle of a plush rug to focus on his task.
Mike got down on the rug and took the plastic bottle away from Billie. His eyes were smoldering and had gone a darker blue. “Allow me,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
Billie Joe looked up and smiled slowly. He leaned back on his elbows as Mike took one smooth ankle in his hand. “If you insist.”
******
Half an hour later, a relieved Mike tucked himself back into his jeans and headed downstairs to see if Tre was still asleep. He was certain the noise they had made upstairs would wake the dead.
Tre was curled on his side, however, clasping a pillow and dead to the world.
Mike smiled ruefully and headed back up the stairs. If he had his way, Tre would be himself in no time.
Billie Joe stood before Tre’s bathroom mirror, wearing a stretchy white micro-mini skirt. Mike had gathered the waistband and pinned it in the back to make it fit tightly. He put his hands on his hips and wondered what Michael had decided on for the top portion; it would be useless to offer any input when he got like this.
Mike picked up several items and inspected each one.
“Tre’s tops are not gonna fit me, Mike. Face it,” Billie Joe offered.
Mike looked at the several skimpy brassieres and the bikini top he’d taken from the closet and frowned. “Hold on,” he said, and disappeared for a few minutes.
While he was gone, Billie opened a few drawers until he found a small assortment of cosmetics. Perfect.
He was busy with the eye pencil when Mike returned. “Excellent. Be generous with the eyeliner. But I want to do your lips.”
Billie raised a snarky eyebrow and went back to lining his eyes.
“And we should clean up your brows, a bit.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Mike sighed. “Why are you such a tightass about your eyebrows? They desperately need shaping.”
“Everyone has their limits, Mikey.”
“Fine. In the meantime…” Mike turned Billie to face him and fitted a white bra with flesh-colored gel inserts over his chest. He adjusted the straps and stuck a safety pin in his mouth, and folded the fabric over the hooks and eyes to make a snug fit. After pinning it in place, he tugged and straightened, saying, “You do make a lovely lady, sweet thing.”
Billie smirked at the sight of Mike’s straining denim. “Thought we took care of that just now,” he said, rubbing his friend’s crotch just a bit too hard.
“Knock it off, or Tre will never get any. Here, put this on.”
Mike handed Billie a soft, sheer white blouse with a frilly ruffle around the collar and down the front.
Billie got it on over the bra and frowned. It looked weird hanging over the tight skirt. He tucked it in. Still looked weird.
Mike shook his head. “No, no, no…”
He expertly pulled the fabric out of the waistband and gathered the ends together, tying it in a cute bow below Billie’s “breasts.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mike sounded satisfied.
Billie turned to face the mirror. The skirt rode low enough to expose his hip tattoos, while the floppy bow kept the filmy blouse tied high. He had to admit, he looked pretty hot.
A pair of Tre’s white heels, toes stuffed with Kleenex to accommodate Billie’s smaller feet, made a sweetly sexy outfit.
“Now sit, and let me do your mouth,” Mike ordered.
Billie sniggered, sat on the lid of the toilet and lowered his lips to the level of Mike’s dick.
“Smartass,” Mike rumbled, pulling Billie up by the hair. He loved the grown-out color, which by now was really just dark curls with blonde tips. It made him look very girly, indeed.
He slid his fingers into Billie’s curls, fluffing up his hair, and grinned. “No change needed there. Except for a nurse’s cap.” He reached over and took up the perky, slightly-too-small cap and perched it on his friend’s head.
Billie looked in the mirror and frowned. “That looks asinine.”
“No,” Mike insisted as he fished in a drawer to find a hair pin. “It looks just right.” He secured the folded white fabric emblazoned with a large red cross to the messy locks and grinned.
“Okay. Sit down and let me do your lipstick.”
“And mascara,” Billie answered, looking up at Mike and fluttering his eyelashes.
Mike made another growling noise. The little fuck knew just how to get him going.
******
Billie puckered his carefully outlined, lipsticked lips and made a smacking noise. Mike leered at him, loving the dark, soft rose color that he’d chosen. Along with the loose, feathery ringlets, the outfit and soft, moisturized skin, Billie Joe Armstrong made one fine, flirty slut.
It was time to take care of Tre.
AUTHOR: wiccish
PAIRING: Billie/Tre
RATING: NC-17
PREVIOUS PARTS: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=wiccish&keyword=%2A&filter=all
NOTES: For WGDB and the Trillie lovers. Someday, I hope to finish this thing.
Mike stood still for a moment, eyeing Billie Joe, then went to the room Tre was sleeping in. He quietly opened the door, ascertained that he was, indeed, asleep and returned to Billie.
“Come with me,” he said, grabbing his friend’s wrist and pulling him toward the stairs.
“What,” Billie asked, giving way to a certain amount of trepidation, “are we doing?”
Mike kept his grip on a small, inked wrist, as though Billie might change his mind and bolt. He kept hold of him all the way up the stairs.
“You’ll see,” Mike replied, a determined look on his face.
They arrived in Tre’s bedroom to find it just as he’d left it the day he met Billie to go riding. The window was half-open, the bed a rumpled mess and a half-consumed bottle of tequila rested on the nightstand.
Mike continued his way to Tre’s large, walk-in closet. It was predictably full of jeans, shorts, tees and other shirts, many of which were bright spots of loud color.
“Uh, what exactly are we doing? Re-arranging his closet for him? Not sure that will cheer him up, Mike.”
Mike shook his head. He moved to a waist-high chest of drawers at the far end, and tugged it away from the wall. He gave it a good shove out of the way and then placed his hands along a wall panel.
Without the benefit of a handle or grip of any kind, the wall gave way and swung inward to reveal a darkened inner closet. Mike fumbled inside for a light switch.
Billie’s mouth hung open in surprise. “What the -- ?”
Mike grinned. “Tre’s private stash.”
Billie tried to see beyond Mike’s taller form. “He needs a whole closet for his weed and shit?”
“No,” Mike chuckled, reaching for Billie once more and pulling him inside the enclosure. “His other stash.”
Billie got fully inside and looked around wonderingly. Along one wall were all manner of sex toys and paraphernalia. Along the other was a rack of surprisingly organized costumes and outfits.
Silk and satin, sequins and feathers, somber black hoods attached to bondage gear, they were all arranged by color and use.
“Holeee shit,” Billie said. “I knew Tre liked his toys, but I had no idea…”
Mike was shuffling through the hangers on the rack, intent on finding a particular item.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Billie objected, “Wait one ass-fucking minute, Dirnt!” He had his hands on his hips and Mike glanced at him, a quizzical smile on his lips.
“Yes?” He continued going through the outfits, hanger by hanger.
“How is it that you know about this and I don’t?” Billie’s expression was a mixture of accusation and indignation.
Mike smirked the smirk of all smirks. “You’re a busy man, Billie Joe. Can’t expect you to carry the weight of all knowledge, now, can we?”
Mike’s crystalline blue eyes had a distinctive twinkle.
Billie’s bottom lip began to protrude. “I thought we agreed to be open with each other and…” Billie trailed off as he observed Mike’s focused search. “What the fuck are you looking for, anyway?”
Mike was going in reverse along the outfits, concentrating on the light colored items of clothing. If you could really call it clothing.
“Your nurse outfit. The one Tre got for you when we went up to the mountains last year, and I nearly bit it in that mudslide.”
“Oh. That outfit.”
Mike halted his search and looked up at his bandmate, who was blushing slightly.
“What? You’re taking care of Tre. You need a nurse outfit.”
“I ah -- well, I took it - home.”
Mike’s expressive eyebrows shot up. “Home?”
Billie knew he would never hear the end of this. He sighed. “Yeah. It kinda came in handy when Adrienne got a bad cold.”
Mike chewed the inside of his mouth in an effort to contain himself, but it didn’t work. He let out a snort of laughter that worked its way into a prolonged giggle.
Billie’s hands were on his hips again. “Listen, you are the last person to be giving me a hard time - - “
Mike couldn’t stand it. He grabbed Billie by the waist and pressed him up against the wall of toys, grabbing his chin in one hand to press a sudden kiss to those voluptuous lips.
Goddammit, he thought, he is fucking adorable when he’s pissed off!
The kiss seemed to mollify Billie somewhat, for he stopped struggling and his arms went around Mike’s neck.
However, when they came up for air, Billie pouted and said, “Besides, I don’t see why I should be the one to dress up and play nurse. I think - -“
“Practical reasons,” Mike muttered, going in for a second face suck. By the time they were once more pausing for oxygen, Mike continued, “Nothing Tre has will fit me. You, at least, are a similar height.”
Billie shot a dour look at his friend. Mike rolled his eyes and said, “Oh come on, tell me you don’t fucking love doing this. Just try and convince me.”
“Well,” Billie said, “it depends on what you expect me to wear.”
Mike rolled his eyes again and said in a low voice, “Then let’s get creative.”
******
“Would. You. Please. Hold. STILL!”
Mike paused and looked up at Billie, where he was perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, his feet resting on the edge of the bathtub. Mike was on the floor, the singer’s well-muscled calf in his hand, covered in shaving cream, while Mike drew the razor carefully in short, even strokes.
“Well fuck, it tickles,” Billie muttered, looking interested in the process in spite of himself.
“Sorry I didn’t think to loofah first,” Mike said sarcastically, which made Billie snigger.
“I just don’t see why I have to shave my legs to - -“
Mike sighed and looked up menacingly. “Don’t tempt me to use this on your throat.”
“Bad for the recording process,” Billie retorted, not all that bothered to have his legs made smooth by Michael’s long fingers. Adrienne was going to love it; she always did when he got all girly.
And hopefully, so would Tre. Mike’s answer to Tre’s doldrums was good, kinky sex and more of it.
“You’ve been coddling him,” Mike had surmised while they went through Tre’s extensive wardrobe.
“Well he’s hurting. You didn’t see him hit the pavement in a full-body dive. I did.”
“Needs more sex. That’s all.”
Sometimes, Billie thought Mike oversimplified things. Then again….
“Straighten your leg. I don’t want to hack up your knee.”
Billie complied and stifled a grin. This was actually quite nice, and he was getting an erection just watching.
“I suppose you want to go all the way up?”
Mike paused and glared again. “No, let’s just have your legs bare and hairy thighs and balls. It’s so sexy.”
Billie shrugged and leaned back a bit to admire Mike’s work thus far, extending his foot and pointing his toes.
“Hold STILL!” Mike growled, “And don’t be a diva.”
“Impossible. I am way too level-headed.”
Mike rolled his eyes and concentrated on his work.
******
Billie was naked, on his hands and knees, looking through the cabinets below the bathroom sink.
“What are you looking for?” Mike asked, coming into the room with several articles of clothing.
“Something to put on my skin. I am itching to death.”
“Lube?” Mike suggested. He appreciatively watched a very nice, tight, sweetly rounded, 39-year-old ass sway as its owner’s head appeared from inside the cabinet.
“Nope. This’ll do.” Billie had found some lotion and sat himself in the middle of a plush rug to focus on his task.
Mike got down on the rug and took the plastic bottle away from Billie. His eyes were smoldering and had gone a darker blue. “Allow me,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
Billie Joe looked up and smiled slowly. He leaned back on his elbows as Mike took one smooth ankle in his hand. “If you insist.”
******
Half an hour later, a relieved Mike tucked himself back into his jeans and headed downstairs to see if Tre was still asleep. He was certain the noise they had made upstairs would wake the dead.
Tre was curled on his side, however, clasping a pillow and dead to the world.
Mike smiled ruefully and headed back up the stairs. If he had his way, Tre would be himself in no time.
Billie Joe stood before Tre’s bathroom mirror, wearing a stretchy white micro-mini skirt. Mike had gathered the waistband and pinned it in the back to make it fit tightly. He put his hands on his hips and wondered what Michael had decided on for the top portion; it would be useless to offer any input when he got like this.
Mike picked up several items and inspected each one.
“Tre’s tops are not gonna fit me, Mike. Face it,” Billie Joe offered.
Mike looked at the several skimpy brassieres and the bikini top he’d taken from the closet and frowned. “Hold on,” he said, and disappeared for a few minutes.
While he was gone, Billie opened a few drawers until he found a small assortment of cosmetics. Perfect.
He was busy with the eye pencil when Mike returned. “Excellent. Be generous with the eyeliner. But I want to do your lips.”
Billie raised a snarky eyebrow and went back to lining his eyes.
“And we should clean up your brows, a bit.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Mike sighed. “Why are you such a tightass about your eyebrows? They desperately need shaping.”
“Everyone has their limits, Mikey.”
“Fine. In the meantime…” Mike turned Billie to face him and fitted a white bra with flesh-colored gel inserts over his chest. He adjusted the straps and stuck a safety pin in his mouth, and folded the fabric over the hooks and eyes to make a snug fit. After pinning it in place, he tugged and straightened, saying, “You do make a lovely lady, sweet thing.”
Billie smirked at the sight of Mike’s straining denim. “Thought we took care of that just now,” he said, rubbing his friend’s crotch just a bit too hard.
“Knock it off, or Tre will never get any. Here, put this on.”
Mike handed Billie a soft, sheer white blouse with a frilly ruffle around the collar and down the front.
Billie got it on over the bra and frowned. It looked weird hanging over the tight skirt. He tucked it in. Still looked weird.
Mike shook his head. “No, no, no…”
He expertly pulled the fabric out of the waistband and gathered the ends together, tying it in a cute bow below Billie’s “breasts.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mike sounded satisfied.
Billie turned to face the mirror. The skirt rode low enough to expose his hip tattoos, while the floppy bow kept the filmy blouse tied high. He had to admit, he looked pretty hot.
A pair of Tre’s white heels, toes stuffed with Kleenex to accommodate Billie’s smaller feet, made a sweetly sexy outfit.
“Now sit, and let me do your mouth,” Mike ordered.
Billie sniggered, sat on the lid of the toilet and lowered his lips to the level of Mike’s dick.
“Smartass,” Mike rumbled, pulling Billie up by the hair. He loved the grown-out color, which by now was really just dark curls with blonde tips. It made him look very girly, indeed.
He slid his fingers into Billie’s curls, fluffing up his hair, and grinned. “No change needed there. Except for a nurse’s cap.” He reached over and took up the perky, slightly-too-small cap and perched it on his friend’s head.
Billie looked in the mirror and frowned. “That looks asinine.”
“No,” Mike insisted as he fished in a drawer to find a hair pin. “It looks just right.” He secured the folded white fabric emblazoned with a large red cross to the messy locks and grinned.
“Okay. Sit down and let me do your lipstick.”
“And mascara,” Billie answered, looking up at Mike and fluttering his eyelashes.
Mike made another growling noise. The little fuck knew just how to get him going.
******
Billie puckered his carefully outlined, lipsticked lips and made a smacking noise. Mike leered at him, loving the dark, soft rose color that he’d chosen. Along with the loose, feathery ringlets, the outfit and soft, moisturized skin, Billie Joe Armstrong made one fine, flirty slut.
It was time to take care of Tre.