Fic: Mucho Masturbation
Mucho gracias to you guys for being so patient (or at least, mostly patient). And to my newly acquired beta, queenofhell (note: not as scary as her name makes her sound). I went back and added more to the sex after she did her thing, so any mistakes are still mine.
Author: Stephanie (gildedmuse)
Fandom, Pairings: RENT, Roger/Mark, Mark/OMC
Title: Mucho Masturbation (part II)
Rating/Warning: Nc-17. Not much in the warning department. The last chapter pretty much has this one beat out for kinks. Roger is a lot more normal in bed.
Word Count: 6,060. Sadly, only about half of it is porn. Some of it vaguely resembles plot, but that is probably just a coincidence and nothing to worry about.
Summary: Roger can't help but think about Mark, even when Mark is apparently thinking about someone else.
Part I: Mucho Masturbation: Mark
Additional Notes: Hey, those of you that I know and love, why not share your kinks with me? I mean, dirty talk and bondage are all good, but if you have anything else out there you want to see (not matter how sick and perverted it might be) I would love it if you would share! Writing is going to get me through Christmas vacation.
Mucho Masturbation
“Come on. Even you have to admit you aren’t key or anything.”
“Yeah, well second guitarist isn’t exactly a hot spot, is it? How many famous second guitarists can you even name?”
“How many bassists can you name?”
“You mean other than Michael Anthony, Paul McCartney, Tom Aryana or Joe Bouchard?”
Daniel takes a seat next to Roger, holding out his half finished joint. “Need some?”
Roger looks between the cigarette and his arguing band mates. He sets his guitar down and takes the joint from Daniel’s hand. “What’s up with those two?” He asks, nodding towards the other band members. Simon and Theo have been at each other’s throats for the last month, and the longer the fight lasts the more trivial the arguments seem to get.
“Theo slept with Natalie,” Daniel explains, taking his roll back for another smoke.
Roger winces, picking his guitar back up as he lets the smoke out of his lungs. “Ouch.”
Daniel gives a slow nod and continues to watch the fight. Roger is trying to workout a few kinks in tomorrow’s set. He’s been working on this song long enough that he can play it in his sleep. That’s how it gets when you slave over a guitar and five hundred sheets of paper, searching for just the right chords. His guitar isn’t loud enough to drowned out Theo and Simon, and the notes aren’t hard or new enough to keep his mind from wondering.
It goes back to earlier, with Mark lying naked in bed next to Roger. It goes to the feel of Mark’s lips against his. It goes to a scene Roger hadn’t even witnessed, with Mark in the shower, panting as he stroked himself.
Roger looks up at Daniel who has his lips pursed around the joint, sucking in a lung full of smoke. His black hair is mangy and uncut, falling down past his eyes. His clothes are dirty and loose on his frames. He almost looks homeless, but without the beard and funky smell. There really isn’t much that is attractive about him.
Still, Roger tries to imagine him on his knees with Mark’s cock in his mouth. Daniel himself isn’t so important as the idea of Mark, naked and flushed and with a handful of that black, overgrown hair in his fists as he pushes into the boy’s mouth. Roger imagines Mark with these images in his head, his erection in hand as he stands under the hot water.
Roger shifts his guitar over his lap. Simon and Theo still haven’t let up, and Daniel is down to the last few puffs of his joint. “You know Mark?”
Daniel blows the smoke right into Roger’s face. “Yeah, I guess. The blond kid you hang with?”
“My roommate,” Roger corrects, annoyed that Daniel would call Mark a kid. Possibly just annoyed at Daniel in general. He strums a few random notes that mean nothing and don’t sound all that good when connected. It’s a hell of a lot better than the background noise of Theo and Simon. “That’s him.”
“Seen him around,” Daniel says with the sort of shrug to show that he’s never really thought about it. Roger is a mix of relieved and agitated. After all, Mark clearly noticed him. On the other hand, Roger can’t help but be thankful that Daniel doesn’t seem to be all that aware of the attention. The further away from Mark he stays the better. “Why?”
Roger shrugs. “No reason.” Only that it turns out that Mark is lusting after Daniel, and Roger has been lusting after Mark for years assuming that Mark only dated girls. So if he’s decided that Daniel is worth experimenting with his sexuality, Roger wants to know why.
“Did he say something about me?” Daniel asks, leaning back against his drum set.
Roger freezes up. “Why? Did you want him to say something about you?” Very smooth, Davis.
Daniel shrugs, truly looking noncommittal about the subject. “I don’t know. I guess.” With his heads twisted behind his head and his eyes closed, the smirk that Daniel sports looks practically dirty. Whatever is going on in his mind, it better not involve Mark. “He’s got a very sweet look to him, doesn’t he. Sort of ‘need you to fuck me’ look.” He opens one eye so that he can look at Roger, whose fingers are curled a little too tightly around his pick and the next notes don’t sound right. “Is he any good?”
Roger has always kind of liked Daniel. He comes to all the practices and shows and he’s not into arguing or whining when Roger’s life takes a downturn and the band hits a low point. It is taking a lot of Roger’s energy to keep playing through the song and not reach out to strangle his drummer. “I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Daniel says, looking honestly surprised to find out that Roger hadn’t even tried. This isn’t exactly true. Roger has tried, he just isn’t such a big asshole that he would push Mark into something. Not to mention that he isn’t nearly brave enough to try anything too obvious. Or anything forward at all for that matter.
Daniel pushes himself off his drums, running a hand through his unfixable black hair. “Figured you must have.” Roger bites down on his cheek hard enough to keep himself from attacking. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving his guitar. It gives him something to look at that isn’t Daniel’s jugular. The other boy starts to shift, looking extremely awkward as he tries to explain, “Well, I’m not, like, into guys or anything.”
Roger raises an eyebrow. “You just fuck them?”
It’s meant to be a joke, but Daniel nods. “Exactly.” He shrugs, looking up to stare at the ceiling. “I mean, I really like girls and junk but sometimes you just need to get off, right. And guys, they’re cool about it. Just fuck and go.”
Roger’s fingers slip and the next notes are nothing more than angry noise. He can feel himself beginning to snap. “I have to go,” Roger announces, and it sounds more like a growl than anything else. Avoiding looking at Daniel, Roger unplugs his guitar and stands to grab his coat. This seems to pull Simon and Theo out of their fight.
“Where you going?” Simon says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking as if he’d been standing around waiting for Roger to start the practice.
“I’ve got to go.” Roger makes sure to avoid looking at Daniel. Punching out his drummer three days before the next gig would be a bad move, even if he is telling Roger that his best friend would be nothing more than a quick way to get off.
“But we haven’t even started!” Theo argues, kicking at one of the mic stands. Roger knows that anger isn’t really directed at him, but Theo better not push his luck. Roger’s in the mood for a fight.
“Fuck it,” Roger says, slamming the door on his way out without even trying to reply.
He swears to himself that if Daniel comes ten feet within ten feet of Mark, he is going to kill him.
*
“Mark, aren’t you ready yet?”
Mark only turns around long enough to see Roger come out of his room his guitar and amp in hand before he goes back to fiddling with the tripod. It’s almost annoying how much Mark obsesses over his camera. It’s hard to be to put off though, knowing that Roger is the same way with his music. Besides, there are definitely worse things to stare at than the scrawny, blond kid bending over. He must have had those jeans since he first moved into the loft all those years ago, and even after losing so much weight they’re still a little to tight on him. Not that Roger is complaining, especially with the way the pants just seem to cling to Mark when he’s bent over like that.
“Just a second.” Mark says. He turns to look at Roger again, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think I managed to get my camera stuck.”
Roger’s eyes move pretty quickly to look at the ceiling. “Well, hurry,” he says, trying to put enough annoyance behind his words as possible. Mentally, Roger gives himself a first strike. Staring at your best friend’s ass is definitely against the rules.
“I don’t know how the hell I did this,” Mark comments. He stretches himself out so that he can look at something on the underside of the base. Roger begins fiddling with a few of the knobs on his amp, giving his eyes somewhere else to be. “How late is this thing going?”
“They’re dragging me to an after party,” Roger explains, and he doesn’t have to try and sound annoyed this time. After-parties were something he enjoyed with April, maybe even with Mimi, although he had been a bit more careful. It’s not that getting off the stage only to be jumped by groupies and beer isn’t fun, but with Theo and Simon at each other’s throats and Daniel being there at all the idea is slightly less appetizing.
“Ah,” Mark says, finally managing to slip the camera off the tripod he’d got it locked on. He turns himself back around, arching his back as he stretches his arms out. “Can I come?”
God, Roger would love to make Mark - “What?” His fingers twisted the knob he’d been messing with a little too hard, pulling it off. “Shit!” He concentrates on getting the equipment fixed, which is as good as an excuse as any not to look at Mark.
It’s been two months without Mimi, and already Roger is as horny as some high school kid just hitting puberty. It didn’t help that Mark had to go and tell him that all that time he’s been in the shower hasn’t exactly been spent innocently soaping up his hair and wondering how Maureen is doing.
“Can I come along?” Mark repeats, pushing himself off the floor with much care to avoid knocking down the tripod. “To the after party, I mean.”
There had been a time when after parties meant needles and lines and things Roger couldn’t do with Mark looking over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s fine,” Roger says, putting the amplifier up on the table so that he can screw the knob back in place. Mark picks his camera up off the tripod and starts packing it away.
“Just one thing,” Roger says while Mark’s grabbing his bag. “If Theo and Simon start beating the crap out of each other on stage, don’t get it on film. The last thing we need is to end up on Buzzline again.”
*
“Hi.”
”Hi.”
“My name’s Krissy.”
“Mmm.”
“Wanna fuck?”
The fact that this girl is a total stranger doesn’t seem weird to Roger. Being the lead singer and guitarist of an “up-and-coming” (again) band tends to get a person these sorts of offers. There might have been a time when Roger would have already had her up against a wall, skirt bunched around her legs. Right now, he’s too busy searching the crowd to even notice she is wearing a skirt. “Not really.”
There’s too much blonde hair in this club and too many bodies withering on the dance floor. It takes Roger a moment to find Mark. He’s towards the back, away from all the fun and sex and drugs. He’s sitting at the bar, one hand on his camera and the other on a drink. Daniel is way to close, all but sitting in Mark’s lap.
Fuck.
The girl follows Roger’s eyes, not hard when he’s been staring for nearly a full minute. She swings the handcuffs that are chained to her wrist, snapping the free band shut. With all the music playing around them, the metal clang is soundless. “He can join us if you want,” she says.
Daniel isn’t even trying to act smooth about it, really. He’s all over Mark, and if that hand goes any lower Roger is going to march over there and remove it for him. ”I have to go,” he says, moving the girl aside and making a small dent in the crowd to clear a path towards the bar.
This girl looks honestly interested in the threesome idea. It’s kind of annoying, how she keeps staring at Mark even after Roger has all but told her to fuck off. What is it with everyone recently, treating Mark like some sort of sex object? Aren’t they all suppose to be looking at Roger like that? “He looks like he might have fun, being tied-“
“Fuck off,” Roger says, disappearing into the crowd. That officially ends their conversation.
It’s too loud in the club to hear what Daniel is saying until Roger is practically hovering over them, and by then all he can register is, “Roger!” before he gets an arm full of Mark.
Over his friend’s shoulder, Roger glares at Dan, and fuck it if the other boy think he’s acting like a jealous boyfriend. He needs to keep his hands off Mark. It’s enough with Theo and Simon growling at each other all through practices without adding Daniel versus Roger to the list.
Daniel is eyeing Mark’s ass and oblivious to Roger’s glower. If he keeps staring like that, Roger isn’t going to have much of a choice. He’s going to have to start looking for a new drummer because this one is about to be dead meat.
Mark, a slightly drunk Mark, is still hugging Roger. Not so much hugging as wrapping himself around Roger, and he can feel every inch of the other boy’s front pressed against him. If Roger finds out Daniel had bought even one of those beers with even the hint of an idea of taking advantage of Mark they are going to have to pry Roger off his bloody and beaten corpse.
Roger swallows down a moan and takes a step back before Mark notices the effect he’s having on Roger’s low regain. Mark just picks up his beer and sits back down. Daniel smiles, scooting a little closer to Mark, placing a hand on Mark’s leg when their stools finally clang together and shake both boys up. It’s a little too possessive and purposeful for Roger’s liking.
“You were great,” Mark says. It shouldn’t upset Roger that his friend isn’t totally trashed, but he isn’t even slurring and Daniel’s hand is still on his thigh. At least if he was drunk he would have an excuse. “You should have heard the crowd, I mean, really hear them Roger. They were loving you.” Daniel’s fingers are a little too restless against Mark’s leg. The filmmaker wiggles, but doesn’t knock them away. “While I was shouting, I got these girls on camera. I think they were about to jump on stage. I mean it was a really great show.” When Dan leans a little closer, fingers running up to the waistband, Mark doesn’t even shy away. “It’s was fucking amazing, the new songs. You- Hey, what are you-”
Something in Roger just snaps.
With what little control he has he realizes that punching out his drummer after their show would probably be fair PR among the crowd, but sure as hell won’t help them get any more gigs at local clubs. It’s a lot safer to grab Mark by the shirt, yanking him off the stool and away from Daniel’s hands.
This time, Daniel definitely gets the point. Mark yelps, cling to Roger’s shirt as he nearly falls over his own feet. Roger has his fist wrapped into Mark’s shirt so tight falling might have strangled the filmmaker. Dan raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t-“
“Fuck off,” Roger growls, turning to storm out of the club and dragging Mark behind him. For the second time that night, this works as a rather efficient way of ending the conversation.
The second they’re outside the club and away from the crowd Roger slams Mark against the wall, pinning him in place. Shock really only begins to cover the look on Mark’s face. He doesn’t even make an attempt struggling to get away. “Roger, what’s-“
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” This is exactly the sort of behavior that Mimi couldn’t stand, but Roger really can’t think about being reasonable right now. His mind is too wrapped up in the images of Daniel and Mark tangled together, naked and panting and how could Mark let Dan touch him like that? “You decide you like guys and that gives you the right to act like some sort of slut!”
Roger regrets the words the second they’re out of his mouth, but what can he do? Mark isn’t even looking at him anymore, his eyes focusing on the sidewalk. Roger wishes Mark would at least yell back. It would make Roger feel a hell of a lot better than the non-responsiveness. Roger knows he has no right to get this angry over some harmless flirting, especially when Mark isn’t even with him. “I just…” Roger slams his hand against the brick wall inches from Mark’s face, thinking maybe the pain will snap him out of it. At least imagining that it would feel better if the bricks were Dan’s face. “You can’t do that Mark, okay? You’re better than that!”
Mark is still avoiding eye contact. Roger sighs, leaning in so that he can rest his forehead against the cold bricks. “Danny’s no good, okay? He’s just… He’s just playing around.” There is no way to explain this that isn’t going to make Roger come off as the jealous boyfriend, but that is exactly what it feels like when he watches Daniel flirting with Mark, and he’s better than some one night stand. Better than Roger, even, and if Mark isn’t going to sink to his level than Roger is going to make sure he doesn’t take any one who isn’t good enough for him.
Roger can’t take the silence anymore. “Come on.” He pushes himself off the wall, wrapping an arm around Mark’s shoulder to show him it’s safe, to touch him without being obvious how much he wants to touch him. “Let’s get back to the loft.”
Mark lets Roger lead him off without a word.
*
There was a time when Roger didn’t think about Mark like that.
Masturbation isn’t always about sex. Any guy can tell you that while usually he’s thinking about ass and tits and cock or whatever the fuck it is that turns him on, there are also those times when it’s not really about the need to get off. Sometimes it’s just out of habit, you get use to jerking off and so you do without even thinking about it. There’s that relaxing, bone-melting feeling after an orgasm that makes sleep that much easier. Then again, sometimes it’s just the best way to pass the time.
It started out when Roger was just trying to work himself up for a show or create some heat in his blood for the winter. He wasn’t really thinking about sex, and so his mind tuned in and out with flickers of life and people he knew. It’s only a matter of time before he thought back to some earlier conversation with Mark or how he promised the other boy to take him to practice or was just going through what he had done that day. It’s nothing perverted. Roger has same thoughts about Collins and Benny and that guy who always smells like fish and beer and lives on the ground floor. It’s not about sex, so Roger didn’t worry when these images leak into his mind.
Then the flickers turn into the occasional cameo along side April, Jane Wiedlin and Mia Sara. It wasn’t just those lazy last minute sessions that Mark is appeared in. It’s additive, jerking off with your best friend’s name rolling inside your head while he’s grabbing lunch or playing with his camera in the next room. There is something about being caught, about knowing how wrong it is, that makes the experience that much better.
Still, there was a time when Roger had some control over his own hand and fantasies.
After they got back to the loft Mark says a quick goodnight before hurrying off to bed. Probably trying to figure out when Roger went from acting like an over protective brother to junkie roommate to boyfriend. Roger locks himself in his own room. He sits back on his bed, banging his head against the wall. Why does he have to lose his temper like that? Why the fuck can’t he just not care who Mark is with?
After a few minutes of hating himself, a headache starts to set in, so Roger unzips his pants, pulling down his jeans and underwear just enough to give his hand room. It’s not really about sex, but if Roger keeps thinking about Mark and Daniel and the mess he has managed to make, it’s not going to be pretty.
Roger never really needed to be creative when he jerked off. The same images will pretty much cover it every time. Usually this means Mark stretched out across the bed, hand wrapped around the base of Roger’s cock as he tongues the head. As the crown disappears between Mark’s lips Roger swipes his thumb across the tip. He’s shaking when he arches up into his hand, not bothering to fight back a low moan. Maybe he should have stayed at the club for just a while longer.
Visuals, scenarios, they’ve never been really important to Roger but he can’t stop his mind from wandering. Backstage at the club, Mark moving past Daniel without a second look, taking Roger’s hand and dragging him into some room that’s not even there. Lips and bodies pressed together as Mark drags Roger’s hand down to cup him through his pant, breaking apart from the kiss only to moan. Hooded eyes, darker than they really are, looking up at Roger with hunger and want. “You promised I’d come.”
Roger’s own hand slows down to knead his erection like he’s doing to Mark through rough jeans. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Mark backs away, stopping when he runs into some table that hadn’t been there before. It didn’t really matter in Roger’s mind when he lost his clothes, only that Mark is now completely naked. “Come on.” He presses his stomach against the cold table, bracing his hands at the side as he spreads his legs. “I stuck around through your whole sets for this.”
Roger pushes his hands under Mark, running them up to tweak hard nipples. Mark jumps against him, making a sound somewhere between a whimper and a yelp. “You’re telling me you just come to the shows for the after-sex?”
“Mmm…” Mark buckles against Roger’s cock, trying to push him inside. “Don’t tease.”
Roger grabs the bottle of lube sitting on the table. He moves back enough that his slick fingers can press up against Mark. Mark groans, nearly slipping when he pushes his legs further apart, sliding down Roger’s finger. The hand on his waist tightens to keep him pressed against the cold tabletop. “I’m the tease?” Gentle licks along the underside of Mark’s jaw, a nip at the back of his neck. “What about that show you put on earlier, with the camera and those tight jeans?” It’s nice to imagine Mark leaning over his tripod, trying to lure Roger into a quick fuck before the show.
Mark is moaning, trying to relax as Roger slips another finger inside him. “Later,” he says, breathless and hoarse and all those wonderful things that describe a person on the verge of losing control. “Right now, just hurry.” The Mark in his mind isn’t giving Roger much of a choice. He’s rocking his hips back and fourth, meeting each one of Roger’s slow thrusts. He could probably come just like this, watching Mark fuck himself against Roger’s three digits.
He curls his fingers just so and Mark chokes on a scream, grinding his cock against the smooth table. “Fuck.” Ignoring Roger’s slow, steady speed Mark sets his own rhythm, more desperate as he pushes himself back against Roger’s fingers. “Roger, just-“
In his mind, there isn’t a smooth transition. It goes from watching Mark push back on his fingers to being buried to the hilt with that tight heat constricting around his cock. That’s about the time that all words and images and everything fade from Roger’s head. All that’s left the feeling of his hand pumping his dick and pretending it’s even half as good as it would feel to be inside Mark.
If he doesn’t slow down this is going to be over embarrassingly fast, even on his own. He needs to think of something else, something to slow him down.
The door opens and Roger tears his hand away, panting and unfinished.
Mark’s face is a deep red. His eyes go between Roger’s face to his crotch to the ceiling. “I guess I should have knocked or…”
“It’s okay,” Roger says. He’s sitting back in bed with his pants undone and his cock leaking against his stomach, this far from orgasm as he fantasizes about his best friend. Maybe if he says it’s okay, it will be. “I ummm…” Mark isn’t leaving, which is a good thing. Or a bad thing. Now is not the best time for Roger to be trying to figure these things out. “I need to apologize for earlier. For, you know, what I said.”
Mark sort of nods, so Roger tries to continue talking. Nothing like rambling to break the awkward silence of being caught jerking off. “You weren’t acting like a slut, you know. I shouldn’t have called you that.”
Mark meets his eyes for half a second before they go back to the ceiling. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, like he doesn’t quite want Roger to hear him. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh.” It’s probably just the fact that Roger was just fucking a very eager Mark up against a table in the back of some nightclub, but it sounds to him like what Mark is saying is that he wouldn’t mind Roger calling him a slut. Just when Roger figures maybe his erection will just disappear he can feel an ache in his balls and fuck, Mark shouldn’t be allowed to say those sorts of thing.
Roger bites down his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning while he tries to bend his legs to hide his full and leaking cock. Mark doesn’t seem as nervous about making eye contact anymore. He takes a step into Roger’s room, closing the door behind him. “Can I stay?”
Roger couldn’t say no even if he wanted to, and he really doesn’t want to. He nods and Mark is climbing across the bed and onto Roger. He’s still in shock by the time Mark is kissing him, forcing Roger’s lips open with his tongue. He’s got his hands on Roger’s cheeks, titling his head back so that there isn’t an inch between their lips. Hot and wet and with Mark’s hips moving in small, erratic circles against Roger’s lap, it’s a moment for Roger to regain control. Then he’s kissing Mark just as hard and eager as the other boy. He’s hands fall to Mark’s ass, squeezing their bodies closer and grinding their erections together.
One of Mark’s hands drops from Roger’s face, but Roger is too busy with Mark’s tongue, Mark’s skin, Mark pressing against him to care. He doesn’t notice what’s going on until a small foil wrapper is being pushed into his hands and Mark is pulling back. Roger’s groan sounds incredible needy even to him as he leans in to capture a few more kisses before Mark is too far down the bed to touch.
The boy gives Roger a lopsided smile, lifting his hips off the bed and pushing off his pants. Roger forgets all about being disappointed at the lack of contact. Mark is leaning back on his bed, completely naked with his cock against his stomach and his legs spread open. He’s all pale skin and pink flush and fuck me now.
He’s holding a small bottle in one hand, rubbing the lube over his fingertips. Roger’s cock twitches, knowing exactly what’s about to happen and unbelievable hard at just the thought. Mark smiles is somewhere between seductive and self-conscious when he lifts his hips up, fingers circling around his entrance. “You have no idea how much I want this.”
Mark moans, arching back as he slips one finger inside himself. He gets himself comfortable before he slips the digit back out. “No idea how much I want you.”
Roger can feel the blood pumping through his cock. Watching that finger dip in and out of Mark with slow, teasing thrusts that are driving them both insane. “You’re wrong,” he says so low it sounds like a growl. Something in his voice must set Mark off. He groans, hips arching off the bed as he pushes another finger inside him. Roger needs him to stay like that, giving him a prefect view of Mark’s fingers disappearing up into that tight ring of skin. “I know exactly how much you want this.”
Mark has lost any steady rhythm he might have had going at the start. He’s almost flat on his back, propped up with one elbow to give himself enough leverage to pump back against his fingers. He must hit that spot, because his toes curled into his sheets, head going back as he moans and pushes all the way up with three fingers. Roger’s is clutching the headrest hard enough for his fingernails to leave marks in the paint, trying to stop himself from fisting his erection. His hips are arching up, begging for some kind of contact. “If you don’t hurry up,” Roger warns, voice too needy to sound truly demanding, “I’m gonna come right now.”
Mark’s chuckle turns to a groan when he pulls his fingers out. “You don’t have to stare,” he says, pushing himself up to his knees. His entire body is shimmering with sweat. A trail of cum leaks the way down the side of his cock.
“Can’t help it,” Roger mutters, taking in every inch of Mark. Roger wants to run his hands along those smooth inner thighs, bite at the unmarked skin, tease hard nipple, feel that cock at the back of his throat. Roger wants every inch of Mark to be his to take, and now Mark is offering him his chance.
Mark’s arms slip around Roger’s shoulders, straddling Roger’s hips so that nearly every inch of them is pressed together. This time it’s Roger who takes control of the kiss, greedy in his exploration of Mark’s mouth. Mark moans and tilts his head so that they’re teeth clash together and Roger’s tongue is wrapped around Mark’s. Fingers brush over his cock, pulling the condom down as they trail along the sides. Roger’s head hits the wall, thrusting up into Mark’s light touches. He feels like he should do something to keep himself from screaming, but honestly the only sounds he can make are desperate whimpers caught in the back of his throat.
Mark leans over, licking around Roger’s partly opened lips. He mutters something that might be, “I love you,” before lifting his hips and slamming himself down on Roger’s cock.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Mark’s fingers are digging into his skin, his face buried in Roger’s shoulder and he can feel the hot sting of tears against his skin. And fuck, he should say something, ask if Mark is okay or pull out but it feels so good being surrounded by Mark’s heat like that and it’s all Roger can do to not thrust himself deeper inside.
Roger runs his hands down Mark’s side, showing he’s willing to be patient. Mark moans something against Roger’s shoulder he can’t understand. He wiggles around a bit, and Roger’s fingers curled into the sheets to keep himself in check. The wet tears are licked and kissed away. “Move.”
Roger thinks he should make some sort of protest and make sure Mark is honestly alright, but the other boy’s voice is commanding and hoarse and it feels so good to be up to the hilt in Mark after all these years. He replaces the sheets between his hands with Mark’s hips, keeping him in place as Roger slips out. “How’s that?”
Mark answers by moaning and pushing himself back down.
There isn’t time for a nice, easy rhythm with Roger so close to the edge. Mark wiggles his hips until Roger is hitting that spot in him every time and soon it’s pounding and thrusting and heat. Mark is in total control as he rocks up and down whimpering and panting and moaning Roger’s name. Roger fights to keep his eyes open, watching Mark with his head tossed back and lips trembling and so wet and hot and tight as he brings himself down on Roger’s cock.
It doesn’t take long for Roger to come. He bites down on his lip to keep from screaming. The last thing he needs Mark to hear after that display outside the club is Roger screaming his name. He wipes the mess on his hands down his jean, his eyes reluctantly fluttering open and leaving behind the image of Mark looking so fucking hot and willing.
He needs to get a girlfriend or a life or the courage to ask Mark out. Anything is better than locking himself in his bedroom, pretending Mark actually wants what Roger needs.
*
“He’s going to kill me.”
“Mmm…” Lips pressed together, teeth kneading plump, wet flesh. Eyes closed and lights off so that nothing matters.
“I’m serious. Roger gets crazy when he’s jealous.”
“He’s not jealous,” Mark says. Licking along side a jaw line, tongue pressed into an ear to earn him a moan and Daniel’s erection pressed against his hips. “He just gets protective sometimes.”
Mark has been hard since Roger shoved him against the wall of the club. He was in the loft for less than five minutes before calling the number Daniel had left him. It had been two years since Maureen. Didn’t he deserve a little fun?
There’s a pervert part of his mind that he’s trying to repress. The part that wants Roger to catch him and Daniel like this, and maybe he can bring out that possessive part in his best friend again. Maybe this time when Roger traps Mark against a wall Mark will be brave enough to actually try something.
For all Daniel’s talk about getting caught he doesn’t seem eager to leave. He has his thigh slipped between Mark’s legs, kissing he way across Mark’s collarbone. Mark doesn’t hold back a moan, pushing himself against Daniel’s jean clad leg, trying to ease the pressure in his own jeans. “Don’t you have a bed?” Daniel asks. Mark kisses Dan hard enough to shut him up, to keep his voice from clashing with the images in Mark’s head. He can turn the smooth walls of the apartment into rough bricks digging into his back. Black, matted hair can be blonde and spiked in the dark. Blue eyes can be made into green with just a little imagination.
In the main room of the loft someone turns on the faucet. Mark tears open Daniel’s jeans, running his thumb across the tip of the other boy’s cock. He pulls back so that he can’t swallow Dan’s groan. Outside his door the shuffling comes to a standstill, and maybe he’s not trying too hard to stifle that part of him that wants to get caught.
“Roger,” Daniel moans as Mark tightens his grip around the drummer’s cock. “Gonna hear,” Mark bites down on his neck, cupping Daniel’s balls his free hand, trying to get the other boy to speak up. The water has been turned off and it sounds like someone is walking across the loft to stand by Mark’s door. “Us.”
Yeah well, Mark thinks, dragging Daniel in for one really good kiss before Roger can burst through the door, that’s the point.
Author: Stephanie (gildedmuse)
Fandom, Pairings: RENT, Roger/Mark, Mark/OMC
Title: Mucho Masturbation (part II)
Rating/Warning: Nc-17. Not much in the warning department. The last chapter pretty much has this one beat out for kinks. Roger is a lot more normal in bed.
Word Count: 6,060. Sadly, only about half of it is porn. Some of it vaguely resembles plot, but that is probably just a coincidence and nothing to worry about.
Summary: Roger can't help but think about Mark, even when Mark is apparently thinking about someone else.
Part I: Mucho Masturbation: Mark
Additional Notes: Hey, those of you that I know and love, why not share your kinks with me? I mean, dirty talk and bondage are all good, but if you have anything else out there you want to see (not matter how sick and perverted it might be) I would love it if you would share! Writing is going to get me through Christmas vacation.
Mucho Masturbation
“Come on. Even you have to admit you aren’t key or anything.”
“Yeah, well second guitarist isn’t exactly a hot spot, is it? How many famous second guitarists can you even name?”
“How many bassists can you name?”
“You mean other than Michael Anthony, Paul McCartney, Tom Aryana or Joe Bouchard?”
Daniel takes a seat next to Roger, holding out his half finished joint. “Need some?”
Roger looks between the cigarette and his arguing band mates. He sets his guitar down and takes the joint from Daniel’s hand. “What’s up with those two?” He asks, nodding towards the other band members. Simon and Theo have been at each other’s throats for the last month, and the longer the fight lasts the more trivial the arguments seem to get.
“Theo slept with Natalie,” Daniel explains, taking his roll back for another smoke.
Roger winces, picking his guitar back up as he lets the smoke out of his lungs. “Ouch.”
Daniel gives a slow nod and continues to watch the fight. Roger is trying to workout a few kinks in tomorrow’s set. He’s been working on this song long enough that he can play it in his sleep. That’s how it gets when you slave over a guitar and five hundred sheets of paper, searching for just the right chords. His guitar isn’t loud enough to drowned out Theo and Simon, and the notes aren’t hard or new enough to keep his mind from wondering.
It goes back to earlier, with Mark lying naked in bed next to Roger. It goes to the feel of Mark’s lips against his. It goes to a scene Roger hadn’t even witnessed, with Mark in the shower, panting as he stroked himself.
Roger looks up at Daniel who has his lips pursed around the joint, sucking in a lung full of smoke. His black hair is mangy and uncut, falling down past his eyes. His clothes are dirty and loose on his frames. He almost looks homeless, but without the beard and funky smell. There really isn’t much that is attractive about him.
Still, Roger tries to imagine him on his knees with Mark’s cock in his mouth. Daniel himself isn’t so important as the idea of Mark, naked and flushed and with a handful of that black, overgrown hair in his fists as he pushes into the boy’s mouth. Roger imagines Mark with these images in his head, his erection in hand as he stands under the hot water.
Roger shifts his guitar over his lap. Simon and Theo still haven’t let up, and Daniel is down to the last few puffs of his joint. “You know Mark?”
Daniel blows the smoke right into Roger’s face. “Yeah, I guess. The blond kid you hang with?”
“My roommate,” Roger corrects, annoyed that Daniel would call Mark a kid. Possibly just annoyed at Daniel in general. He strums a few random notes that mean nothing and don’t sound all that good when connected. It’s a hell of a lot better than the background noise of Theo and Simon. “That’s him.”
“Seen him around,” Daniel says with the sort of shrug to show that he’s never really thought about it. Roger is a mix of relieved and agitated. After all, Mark clearly noticed him. On the other hand, Roger can’t help but be thankful that Daniel doesn’t seem to be all that aware of the attention. The further away from Mark he stays the better. “Why?”
Roger shrugs. “No reason.” Only that it turns out that Mark is lusting after Daniel, and Roger has been lusting after Mark for years assuming that Mark only dated girls. So if he’s decided that Daniel is worth experimenting with his sexuality, Roger wants to know why.
“Did he say something about me?” Daniel asks, leaning back against his drum set.
Roger freezes up. “Why? Did you want him to say something about you?” Very smooth, Davis.
Daniel shrugs, truly looking noncommittal about the subject. “I don’t know. I guess.” With his heads twisted behind his head and his eyes closed, the smirk that Daniel sports looks practically dirty. Whatever is going on in his mind, it better not involve Mark. “He’s got a very sweet look to him, doesn’t he. Sort of ‘need you to fuck me’ look.” He opens one eye so that he can look at Roger, whose fingers are curled a little too tightly around his pick and the next notes don’t sound right. “Is he any good?”
Roger has always kind of liked Daniel. He comes to all the practices and shows and he’s not into arguing or whining when Roger’s life takes a downturn and the band hits a low point. It is taking a lot of Roger’s energy to keep playing through the song and not reach out to strangle his drummer. “I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Daniel says, looking honestly surprised to find out that Roger hadn’t even tried. This isn’t exactly true. Roger has tried, he just isn’t such a big asshole that he would push Mark into something. Not to mention that he isn’t nearly brave enough to try anything too obvious. Or anything forward at all for that matter.
Daniel pushes himself off his drums, running a hand through his unfixable black hair. “Figured you must have.” Roger bites down on his cheek hard enough to keep himself from attacking. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving his guitar. It gives him something to look at that isn’t Daniel’s jugular. The other boy starts to shift, looking extremely awkward as he tries to explain, “Well, I’m not, like, into guys or anything.”
Roger raises an eyebrow. “You just fuck them?”
It’s meant to be a joke, but Daniel nods. “Exactly.” He shrugs, looking up to stare at the ceiling. “I mean, I really like girls and junk but sometimes you just need to get off, right. And guys, they’re cool about it. Just fuck and go.”
Roger’s fingers slip and the next notes are nothing more than angry noise. He can feel himself beginning to snap. “I have to go,” Roger announces, and it sounds more like a growl than anything else. Avoiding looking at Daniel, Roger unplugs his guitar and stands to grab his coat. This seems to pull Simon and Theo out of their fight.
“Where you going?” Simon says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking as if he’d been standing around waiting for Roger to start the practice.
“I’ve got to go.” Roger makes sure to avoid looking at Daniel. Punching out his drummer three days before the next gig would be a bad move, even if he is telling Roger that his best friend would be nothing more than a quick way to get off.
“But we haven’t even started!” Theo argues, kicking at one of the mic stands. Roger knows that anger isn’t really directed at him, but Theo better not push his luck. Roger’s in the mood for a fight.
“Fuck it,” Roger says, slamming the door on his way out without even trying to reply.
He swears to himself that if Daniel comes ten feet within ten feet of Mark, he is going to kill him.
*
“Mark, aren’t you ready yet?”
Mark only turns around long enough to see Roger come out of his room his guitar and amp in hand before he goes back to fiddling with the tripod. It’s almost annoying how much Mark obsesses over his camera. It’s hard to be to put off though, knowing that Roger is the same way with his music. Besides, there are definitely worse things to stare at than the scrawny, blond kid bending over. He must have had those jeans since he first moved into the loft all those years ago, and even after losing so much weight they’re still a little to tight on him. Not that Roger is complaining, especially with the way the pants just seem to cling to Mark when he’s bent over like that.
“Just a second.” Mark says. He turns to look at Roger again, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think I managed to get my camera stuck.”
Roger’s eyes move pretty quickly to look at the ceiling. “Well, hurry,” he says, trying to put enough annoyance behind his words as possible. Mentally, Roger gives himself a first strike. Staring at your best friend’s ass is definitely against the rules.
“I don’t know how the hell I did this,” Mark comments. He stretches himself out so that he can look at something on the underside of the base. Roger begins fiddling with a few of the knobs on his amp, giving his eyes somewhere else to be. “How late is this thing going?”
“They’re dragging me to an after party,” Roger explains, and he doesn’t have to try and sound annoyed this time. After-parties were something he enjoyed with April, maybe even with Mimi, although he had been a bit more careful. It’s not that getting off the stage only to be jumped by groupies and beer isn’t fun, but with Theo and Simon at each other’s throats and Daniel being there at all the idea is slightly less appetizing.
“Ah,” Mark says, finally managing to slip the camera off the tripod he’d got it locked on. He turns himself back around, arching his back as he stretches his arms out. “Can I come?”
God, Roger would love to make Mark - “What?” His fingers twisted the knob he’d been messing with a little too hard, pulling it off. “Shit!” He concentrates on getting the equipment fixed, which is as good as an excuse as any not to look at Mark.
It’s been two months without Mimi, and already Roger is as horny as some high school kid just hitting puberty. It didn’t help that Mark had to go and tell him that all that time he’s been in the shower hasn’t exactly been spent innocently soaping up his hair and wondering how Maureen is doing.
“Can I come along?” Mark repeats, pushing himself off the floor with much care to avoid knocking down the tripod. “To the after party, I mean.”
There had been a time when after parties meant needles and lines and things Roger couldn’t do with Mark looking over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s fine,” Roger says, putting the amplifier up on the table so that he can screw the knob back in place. Mark picks his camera up off the tripod and starts packing it away.
“Just one thing,” Roger says while Mark’s grabbing his bag. “If Theo and Simon start beating the crap out of each other on stage, don’t get it on film. The last thing we need is to end up on Buzzline again.”
*
“Hi.”
”Hi.”
“My name’s Krissy.”
“Mmm.”
“Wanna fuck?”
The fact that this girl is a total stranger doesn’t seem weird to Roger. Being the lead singer and guitarist of an “up-and-coming” (again) band tends to get a person these sorts of offers. There might have been a time when Roger would have already had her up against a wall, skirt bunched around her legs. Right now, he’s too busy searching the crowd to even notice she is wearing a skirt. “Not really.”
There’s too much blonde hair in this club and too many bodies withering on the dance floor. It takes Roger a moment to find Mark. He’s towards the back, away from all the fun and sex and drugs. He’s sitting at the bar, one hand on his camera and the other on a drink. Daniel is way to close, all but sitting in Mark’s lap.
Fuck.
The girl follows Roger’s eyes, not hard when he’s been staring for nearly a full minute. She swings the handcuffs that are chained to her wrist, snapping the free band shut. With all the music playing around them, the metal clang is soundless. “He can join us if you want,” she says.
Daniel isn’t even trying to act smooth about it, really. He’s all over Mark, and if that hand goes any lower Roger is going to march over there and remove it for him. ”I have to go,” he says, moving the girl aside and making a small dent in the crowd to clear a path towards the bar.
This girl looks honestly interested in the threesome idea. It’s kind of annoying, how she keeps staring at Mark even after Roger has all but told her to fuck off. What is it with everyone recently, treating Mark like some sort of sex object? Aren’t they all suppose to be looking at Roger like that? “He looks like he might have fun, being tied-“
“Fuck off,” Roger says, disappearing into the crowd. That officially ends their conversation.
It’s too loud in the club to hear what Daniel is saying until Roger is practically hovering over them, and by then all he can register is, “Roger!” before he gets an arm full of Mark.
Over his friend’s shoulder, Roger glares at Dan, and fuck it if the other boy think he’s acting like a jealous boyfriend. He needs to keep his hands off Mark. It’s enough with Theo and Simon growling at each other all through practices without adding Daniel versus Roger to the list.
Daniel is eyeing Mark’s ass and oblivious to Roger’s glower. If he keeps staring like that, Roger isn’t going to have much of a choice. He’s going to have to start looking for a new drummer because this one is about to be dead meat.
Mark, a slightly drunk Mark, is still hugging Roger. Not so much hugging as wrapping himself around Roger, and he can feel every inch of the other boy’s front pressed against him. If Roger finds out Daniel had bought even one of those beers with even the hint of an idea of taking advantage of Mark they are going to have to pry Roger off his bloody and beaten corpse.
Roger swallows down a moan and takes a step back before Mark notices the effect he’s having on Roger’s low regain. Mark just picks up his beer and sits back down. Daniel smiles, scooting a little closer to Mark, placing a hand on Mark’s leg when their stools finally clang together and shake both boys up. It’s a little too possessive and purposeful for Roger’s liking.
“You were great,” Mark says. It shouldn’t upset Roger that his friend isn’t totally trashed, but he isn’t even slurring and Daniel’s hand is still on his thigh. At least if he was drunk he would have an excuse. “You should have heard the crowd, I mean, really hear them Roger. They were loving you.” Daniel’s fingers are a little too restless against Mark’s leg. The filmmaker wiggles, but doesn’t knock them away. “While I was shouting, I got these girls on camera. I think they were about to jump on stage. I mean it was a really great show.” When Dan leans a little closer, fingers running up to the waistband, Mark doesn’t even shy away. “It’s was fucking amazing, the new songs. You- Hey, what are you-”
Something in Roger just snaps.
With what little control he has he realizes that punching out his drummer after their show would probably be fair PR among the crowd, but sure as hell won’t help them get any more gigs at local clubs. It’s a lot safer to grab Mark by the shirt, yanking him off the stool and away from Daniel’s hands.
This time, Daniel definitely gets the point. Mark yelps, cling to Roger’s shirt as he nearly falls over his own feet. Roger has his fist wrapped into Mark’s shirt so tight falling might have strangled the filmmaker. Dan raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t-“
“Fuck off,” Roger growls, turning to storm out of the club and dragging Mark behind him. For the second time that night, this works as a rather efficient way of ending the conversation.
The second they’re outside the club and away from the crowd Roger slams Mark against the wall, pinning him in place. Shock really only begins to cover the look on Mark’s face. He doesn’t even make an attempt struggling to get away. “Roger, what’s-“
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” This is exactly the sort of behavior that Mimi couldn’t stand, but Roger really can’t think about being reasonable right now. His mind is too wrapped up in the images of Daniel and Mark tangled together, naked and panting and how could Mark let Dan touch him like that? “You decide you like guys and that gives you the right to act like some sort of slut!”
Roger regrets the words the second they’re out of his mouth, but what can he do? Mark isn’t even looking at him anymore, his eyes focusing on the sidewalk. Roger wishes Mark would at least yell back. It would make Roger feel a hell of a lot better than the non-responsiveness. Roger knows he has no right to get this angry over some harmless flirting, especially when Mark isn’t even with him. “I just…” Roger slams his hand against the brick wall inches from Mark’s face, thinking maybe the pain will snap him out of it. At least imagining that it would feel better if the bricks were Dan’s face. “You can’t do that Mark, okay? You’re better than that!”
Mark is still avoiding eye contact. Roger sighs, leaning in so that he can rest his forehead against the cold bricks. “Danny’s no good, okay? He’s just… He’s just playing around.” There is no way to explain this that isn’t going to make Roger come off as the jealous boyfriend, but that is exactly what it feels like when he watches Daniel flirting with Mark, and he’s better than some one night stand. Better than Roger, even, and if Mark isn’t going to sink to his level than Roger is going to make sure he doesn’t take any one who isn’t good enough for him.
Roger can’t take the silence anymore. “Come on.” He pushes himself off the wall, wrapping an arm around Mark’s shoulder to show him it’s safe, to touch him without being obvious how much he wants to touch him. “Let’s get back to the loft.”
Mark lets Roger lead him off without a word.
*
There was a time when Roger didn’t think about Mark like that.
Masturbation isn’t always about sex. Any guy can tell you that while usually he’s thinking about ass and tits and cock or whatever the fuck it is that turns him on, there are also those times when it’s not really about the need to get off. Sometimes it’s just out of habit, you get use to jerking off and so you do without even thinking about it. There’s that relaxing, bone-melting feeling after an orgasm that makes sleep that much easier. Then again, sometimes it’s just the best way to pass the time.
It started out when Roger was just trying to work himself up for a show or create some heat in his blood for the winter. He wasn’t really thinking about sex, and so his mind tuned in and out with flickers of life and people he knew. It’s only a matter of time before he thought back to some earlier conversation with Mark or how he promised the other boy to take him to practice or was just going through what he had done that day. It’s nothing perverted. Roger has same thoughts about Collins and Benny and that guy who always smells like fish and beer and lives on the ground floor. It’s not about sex, so Roger didn’t worry when these images leak into his mind.
Then the flickers turn into the occasional cameo along side April, Jane Wiedlin and Mia Sara. It wasn’t just those lazy last minute sessions that Mark is appeared in. It’s additive, jerking off with your best friend’s name rolling inside your head while he’s grabbing lunch or playing with his camera in the next room. There is something about being caught, about knowing how wrong it is, that makes the experience that much better.
Still, there was a time when Roger had some control over his own hand and fantasies.
After they got back to the loft Mark says a quick goodnight before hurrying off to bed. Probably trying to figure out when Roger went from acting like an over protective brother to junkie roommate to boyfriend. Roger locks himself in his own room. He sits back on his bed, banging his head against the wall. Why does he have to lose his temper like that? Why the fuck can’t he just not care who Mark is with?
After a few minutes of hating himself, a headache starts to set in, so Roger unzips his pants, pulling down his jeans and underwear just enough to give his hand room. It’s not really about sex, but if Roger keeps thinking about Mark and Daniel and the mess he has managed to make, it’s not going to be pretty.
Roger never really needed to be creative when he jerked off. The same images will pretty much cover it every time. Usually this means Mark stretched out across the bed, hand wrapped around the base of Roger’s cock as he tongues the head. As the crown disappears between Mark’s lips Roger swipes his thumb across the tip. He’s shaking when he arches up into his hand, not bothering to fight back a low moan. Maybe he should have stayed at the club for just a while longer.
Visuals, scenarios, they’ve never been really important to Roger but he can’t stop his mind from wandering. Backstage at the club, Mark moving past Daniel without a second look, taking Roger’s hand and dragging him into some room that’s not even there. Lips and bodies pressed together as Mark drags Roger’s hand down to cup him through his pant, breaking apart from the kiss only to moan. Hooded eyes, darker than they really are, looking up at Roger with hunger and want. “You promised I’d come.”
Roger’s own hand slows down to knead his erection like he’s doing to Mark through rough jeans. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Mark backs away, stopping when he runs into some table that hadn’t been there before. It didn’t really matter in Roger’s mind when he lost his clothes, only that Mark is now completely naked. “Come on.” He presses his stomach against the cold table, bracing his hands at the side as he spreads his legs. “I stuck around through your whole sets for this.”
Roger pushes his hands under Mark, running them up to tweak hard nipples. Mark jumps against him, making a sound somewhere between a whimper and a yelp. “You’re telling me you just come to the shows for the after-sex?”
“Mmm…” Mark buckles against Roger’s cock, trying to push him inside. “Don’t tease.”
Roger grabs the bottle of lube sitting on the table. He moves back enough that his slick fingers can press up against Mark. Mark groans, nearly slipping when he pushes his legs further apart, sliding down Roger’s finger. The hand on his waist tightens to keep him pressed against the cold tabletop. “I’m the tease?” Gentle licks along the underside of Mark’s jaw, a nip at the back of his neck. “What about that show you put on earlier, with the camera and those tight jeans?” It’s nice to imagine Mark leaning over his tripod, trying to lure Roger into a quick fuck before the show.
Mark is moaning, trying to relax as Roger slips another finger inside him. “Later,” he says, breathless and hoarse and all those wonderful things that describe a person on the verge of losing control. “Right now, just hurry.” The Mark in his mind isn’t giving Roger much of a choice. He’s rocking his hips back and fourth, meeting each one of Roger’s slow thrusts. He could probably come just like this, watching Mark fuck himself against Roger’s three digits.
He curls his fingers just so and Mark chokes on a scream, grinding his cock against the smooth table. “Fuck.” Ignoring Roger’s slow, steady speed Mark sets his own rhythm, more desperate as he pushes himself back against Roger’s fingers. “Roger, just-“
In his mind, there isn’t a smooth transition. It goes from watching Mark push back on his fingers to being buried to the hilt with that tight heat constricting around his cock. That’s about the time that all words and images and everything fade from Roger’s head. All that’s left the feeling of his hand pumping his dick and pretending it’s even half as good as it would feel to be inside Mark.
If he doesn’t slow down this is going to be over embarrassingly fast, even on his own. He needs to think of something else, something to slow him down.
The door opens and Roger tears his hand away, panting and unfinished.
Mark’s face is a deep red. His eyes go between Roger’s face to his crotch to the ceiling. “I guess I should have knocked or…”
“It’s okay,” Roger says. He’s sitting back in bed with his pants undone and his cock leaking against his stomach, this far from orgasm as he fantasizes about his best friend. Maybe if he says it’s okay, it will be. “I ummm…” Mark isn’t leaving, which is a good thing. Or a bad thing. Now is not the best time for Roger to be trying to figure these things out. “I need to apologize for earlier. For, you know, what I said.”
Mark sort of nods, so Roger tries to continue talking. Nothing like rambling to break the awkward silence of being caught jerking off. “You weren’t acting like a slut, you know. I shouldn’t have called you that.”
Mark meets his eyes for half a second before they go back to the ceiling. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, like he doesn’t quite want Roger to hear him. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh.” It’s probably just the fact that Roger was just fucking a very eager Mark up against a table in the back of some nightclub, but it sounds to him like what Mark is saying is that he wouldn’t mind Roger calling him a slut. Just when Roger figures maybe his erection will just disappear he can feel an ache in his balls and fuck, Mark shouldn’t be allowed to say those sorts of thing.
Roger bites down his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning while he tries to bend his legs to hide his full and leaking cock. Mark doesn’t seem as nervous about making eye contact anymore. He takes a step into Roger’s room, closing the door behind him. “Can I stay?”
Roger couldn’t say no even if he wanted to, and he really doesn’t want to. He nods and Mark is climbing across the bed and onto Roger. He’s still in shock by the time Mark is kissing him, forcing Roger’s lips open with his tongue. He’s got his hands on Roger’s cheeks, titling his head back so that there isn’t an inch between their lips. Hot and wet and with Mark’s hips moving in small, erratic circles against Roger’s lap, it’s a moment for Roger to regain control. Then he’s kissing Mark just as hard and eager as the other boy. He’s hands fall to Mark’s ass, squeezing their bodies closer and grinding their erections together.
One of Mark’s hands drops from Roger’s face, but Roger is too busy with Mark’s tongue, Mark’s skin, Mark pressing against him to care. He doesn’t notice what’s going on until a small foil wrapper is being pushed into his hands and Mark is pulling back. Roger’s groan sounds incredible needy even to him as he leans in to capture a few more kisses before Mark is too far down the bed to touch.
The boy gives Roger a lopsided smile, lifting his hips off the bed and pushing off his pants. Roger forgets all about being disappointed at the lack of contact. Mark is leaning back on his bed, completely naked with his cock against his stomach and his legs spread open. He’s all pale skin and pink flush and fuck me now.
He’s holding a small bottle in one hand, rubbing the lube over his fingertips. Roger’s cock twitches, knowing exactly what’s about to happen and unbelievable hard at just the thought. Mark smiles is somewhere between seductive and self-conscious when he lifts his hips up, fingers circling around his entrance. “You have no idea how much I want this.”
Mark moans, arching back as he slips one finger inside himself. He gets himself comfortable before he slips the digit back out. “No idea how much I want you.”
Roger can feel the blood pumping through his cock. Watching that finger dip in and out of Mark with slow, teasing thrusts that are driving them both insane. “You’re wrong,” he says so low it sounds like a growl. Something in his voice must set Mark off. He groans, hips arching off the bed as he pushes another finger inside him. Roger needs him to stay like that, giving him a prefect view of Mark’s fingers disappearing up into that tight ring of skin. “I know exactly how much you want this.”
Mark has lost any steady rhythm he might have had going at the start. He’s almost flat on his back, propped up with one elbow to give himself enough leverage to pump back against his fingers. He must hit that spot, because his toes curled into his sheets, head going back as he moans and pushes all the way up with three fingers. Roger’s is clutching the headrest hard enough for his fingernails to leave marks in the paint, trying to stop himself from fisting his erection. His hips are arching up, begging for some kind of contact. “If you don’t hurry up,” Roger warns, voice too needy to sound truly demanding, “I’m gonna come right now.”
Mark’s chuckle turns to a groan when he pulls his fingers out. “You don’t have to stare,” he says, pushing himself up to his knees. His entire body is shimmering with sweat. A trail of cum leaks the way down the side of his cock.
“Can’t help it,” Roger mutters, taking in every inch of Mark. Roger wants to run his hands along those smooth inner thighs, bite at the unmarked skin, tease hard nipple, feel that cock at the back of his throat. Roger wants every inch of Mark to be his to take, and now Mark is offering him his chance.
Mark’s arms slip around Roger’s shoulders, straddling Roger’s hips so that nearly every inch of them is pressed together. This time it’s Roger who takes control of the kiss, greedy in his exploration of Mark’s mouth. Mark moans and tilts his head so that they’re teeth clash together and Roger’s tongue is wrapped around Mark’s. Fingers brush over his cock, pulling the condom down as they trail along the sides. Roger’s head hits the wall, thrusting up into Mark’s light touches. He feels like he should do something to keep himself from screaming, but honestly the only sounds he can make are desperate whimpers caught in the back of his throat.
Mark leans over, licking around Roger’s partly opened lips. He mutters something that might be, “I love you,” before lifting his hips and slamming himself down on Roger’s cock.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Mark’s fingers are digging into his skin, his face buried in Roger’s shoulder and he can feel the hot sting of tears against his skin. And fuck, he should say something, ask if Mark is okay or pull out but it feels so good being surrounded by Mark’s heat like that and it’s all Roger can do to not thrust himself deeper inside.
Roger runs his hands down Mark’s side, showing he’s willing to be patient. Mark moans something against Roger’s shoulder he can’t understand. He wiggles around a bit, and Roger’s fingers curled into the sheets to keep himself in check. The wet tears are licked and kissed away. “Move.”
Roger thinks he should make some sort of protest and make sure Mark is honestly alright, but the other boy’s voice is commanding and hoarse and it feels so good to be up to the hilt in Mark after all these years. He replaces the sheets between his hands with Mark’s hips, keeping him in place as Roger slips out. “How’s that?”
Mark answers by moaning and pushing himself back down.
There isn’t time for a nice, easy rhythm with Roger so close to the edge. Mark wiggles his hips until Roger is hitting that spot in him every time and soon it’s pounding and thrusting and heat. Mark is in total control as he rocks up and down whimpering and panting and moaning Roger’s name. Roger fights to keep his eyes open, watching Mark with his head tossed back and lips trembling and so wet and hot and tight as he brings himself down on Roger’s cock.
It doesn’t take long for Roger to come. He bites down on his lip to keep from screaming. The last thing he needs Mark to hear after that display outside the club is Roger screaming his name. He wipes the mess on his hands down his jean, his eyes reluctantly fluttering open and leaving behind the image of Mark looking so fucking hot and willing.
He needs to get a girlfriend or a life or the courage to ask Mark out. Anything is better than locking himself in his bedroom, pretending Mark actually wants what Roger needs.
*
“He’s going to kill me.”
“Mmm…” Lips pressed together, teeth kneading plump, wet flesh. Eyes closed and lights off so that nothing matters.
“I’m serious. Roger gets crazy when he’s jealous.”
“He’s not jealous,” Mark says. Licking along side a jaw line, tongue pressed into an ear to earn him a moan and Daniel’s erection pressed against his hips. “He just gets protective sometimes.”
Mark has been hard since Roger shoved him against the wall of the club. He was in the loft for less than five minutes before calling the number Daniel had left him. It had been two years since Maureen. Didn’t he deserve a little fun?
There’s a pervert part of his mind that he’s trying to repress. The part that wants Roger to catch him and Daniel like this, and maybe he can bring out that possessive part in his best friend again. Maybe this time when Roger traps Mark against a wall Mark will be brave enough to actually try something.
For all Daniel’s talk about getting caught he doesn’t seem eager to leave. He has his thigh slipped between Mark’s legs, kissing he way across Mark’s collarbone. Mark doesn’t hold back a moan, pushing himself against Daniel’s jean clad leg, trying to ease the pressure in his own jeans. “Don’t you have a bed?” Daniel asks. Mark kisses Dan hard enough to shut him up, to keep his voice from clashing with the images in Mark’s head. He can turn the smooth walls of the apartment into rough bricks digging into his back. Black, matted hair can be blonde and spiked in the dark. Blue eyes can be made into green with just a little imagination.
In the main room of the loft someone turns on the faucet. Mark tears open Daniel’s jeans, running his thumb across the tip of the other boy’s cock. He pulls back so that he can’t swallow Dan’s groan. Outside his door the shuffling comes to a standstill, and maybe he’s not trying too hard to stifle that part of him that wants to get caught.
“Roger,” Daniel moans as Mark tightens his grip around the drummer’s cock. “Gonna hear,” Mark bites down on his neck, cupping Daniel’s balls his free hand, trying to get the other boy to speak up. The water has been turned off and it sounds like someone is walking across the loft to stand by Mark’s door. “Us.”
Yeah well, Mark thinks, dragging Daniel in for one really good kiss before Roger can burst through the door, that’s the point.