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This was how it always went with rockstars, they’d get hyped up for a performance, play a gig, and fuck the first thing that moved. What else was someone supposed to do with all those endorphins and chemicals coursing through your veins? It heightened senses, made everything just a little more giddy, a little more sensitive, and Kerry couldn’t stop grinning like a madman as he chased after the man, Johnny Silverhand, his best friend for a few years now, best damn guitarist he knew, other than himself. The venue had started blasting the radio after the band’s performance, heavy rock that was felt more than heard backstage, and the bass thrummed through his bones. Johnny slowed down ahead of him and grabbed Kerry by the front of his tank top, pulling him to a halt beside him. Kerry huffed, the sound of it the only thing he could actually hear. It sounded too loud and he wondered if it’s just him or if Johnny could hear it too. He blinked, eyes searching his friend’s face for a clue, features blurred by the dim red light that everything was bathed in; but Johnny was silent as he forced Kerry up against the wall.
Kerry’s back hit the wall hard and he raised up his hands to either side of his head, gasping softly as Johnny pinned him there and kissed his lips, easily forcing his way past his teeth and sliding his tongue deeper inside of his mouth. Kerry moaned softly and the wet sounds they made together went straight to his cock. It twitched impatiently, already straining against his jeans since before they’d ran backstage. It seemed like the second his brain started to catch up with what was happening it was pulled deeper into an ocean of pleasure and thrown helplessly against the rocks until he was a trembling mess being held up by Johnny’s hands.
When Johnny suddenly stopped, he pulled back slightly to look at him. Both of them were at the same point it seemed, Johnny panting and staring at Kerry with a dazed expression, his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head; he gave Kerry a lopsided smile and Kerry laughed nervously.
“What’re you thinking about, huh? Why’d you stop…”
“I’m gonna suck you off.”
Kerry’s eyebrows are pinched in confusion when he laughed
again, “what??”
“For doing such a good job, that’s all. Duh.” Johnny said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. If Kerry had been sober, he might’ve refused him. Kerry takes too long to say anything back. Instead, Johnny kissed him again, hard. He placed his hands to either side of Kerry’s head, his fingertips slipping between the strands of his hair. Kerry’s eyes fluttered and he melted into his mouth, he knew Johnny did this shit on purpose; but Kerry didn’t care. He frantically tried to remember how to take off his belt; but Johnny ended up getting it first and grabbed Kerry’s wrists and told him not to touch.
“Oh fuck…” Kerry slurred, wrapping his arms around his own shoulders to hold himself while Johnny dropped down onto his knees in front of him. Silverhand didn't hesitate to peel away the layers of clothes that separated Kerry from his hot breath and mouth; Kerry groaned softly at the open mouthed kisses and teasing nips that his bandmate gave him, scattered across his hips. He squirmed and bucked, his fingers dug into his shoulders to try to keep himself from grabbing Johnny's head and forcing him onto his cock, and he gasped wetly once Johnny did finally put him into his mouth. “Oh fuck,“ Kerry repeated and melted into the sensation, the slick heat pulled him down, into a deep plunge of need. His hips bucked, trying to go deeper, but of course Johnny wouldn't give it to him yet. Of course not.
Johnny pulled away with a devilish expression on his face and he wrapped his right hand around Kerry's cock. He stroked it slowly a few times before giving it a tight squeeze. The pressure let off the second it wrenched another groan out of Kerry and he whimpered. Johnny went back to jerking him off; but this time he did so with long, quick, pulls that made the rings on his hand rattle together. Their eyes meet and Kerry has to look away otherwise he'll come just by the way Johnny's looking at him. His eyes are locked onto him, the irises look black under the red lights, his mouth was parted slightly with only the barest remnants of that smirk from earlier on his face. He caught it just before Johnny noticed and quickly masked himself, muttering a cocky scoff.
“Slut.”
Kerry hardly held back his moan while shame pooled in his gut. Shame he only felt because he liked to be called a slut and wondered how fucked in the head he must have ended up because of it. Kerry’s eyes lolled languidly while he thrusted his cock into Johnny's hand. He reached down, tugged feebly at the hand around his cock before his fingers found their way back into the thick waves of Johnny's hair. Johnny huffed, gave his cock another rough squeeze, and then started to pull the rings off of his fingers. There was a rushed technique to it and he struggled with the ring on his index finger, but he managed to get them all off and into a pocket. Kerry felt his fingertips run softly through the tufts of hair that ran upwards towards his belly button, underneath his damp T-shirt, and then around to the small of his back.
The wetness of Johnny's tongue against Kerry’s straining cock was like a wave crashing into him. His legs tried to buckle, but Johnny was there to catch him and press his back flat against the brick wall. Hands slid around to the back of his thighs, anchoring him, and Johnny brushed his lips over the sensitive scar just under his head and his tongue darted out to lick it. A strangled sound choked out of Kerry. His hips made tiny thrusts against Johnny’s mouth as he licked him, again, and again, and again. He let out another whine and pulled him closer, still trying to force his cock back down into his mouth. Eventually Johnny gave in, swallowed him down into a hot wave that made his toes curl. He clenched the hand that was tangled up in Johnny's hair, who grunted but didn't stop, and Kerry rutted harder into him with his newfound leverage. “Mm, Johnny…holy shit.” Kerry said. The blood rushed in his ears, his body was like a gun with a finger threatening to pull the trigger. The anticipation gnawed at his insides and Johnny was in his ear telling him to pull it. Kerry felt Johnny's throat constrict and flutter tightly around his cock, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to ride out the surge and wait for the next one, it'd be bigger; but Johnny had plans, he curled his tongue at just the right time, laving it over the tip, dipping into the cleft, and swallowed deeper than he had. Kerry felt his cock hit the back of his throat again, it squeezed, practically strangled his cock, and Johnny groaned around him, but didn't pull away. He just coaxed it out of Kerry, the sharp gasp, the rush and roar, the pinprick of light that Kerry held onto while he fucked the guitarist’s throat harder. He didn't hear the muffled grunts, but he felt them, each one white hot, up his spine, and into his chest. Johnny shoved him back. The backstage air was a shock to his systems. Kerry's legs trembled under his weight, and Johnny held him up by his thighs. He looked down as Johnny took a minute, spat the cum out of his mouth before wiping the rest off of his lips with the back of his ‘ganic hand.
Music still droned, diluted, bassy. Kerry's ears were ringing. The two of them stared at one another, not saying much of anything while they came down, while they realized where they were again. Kerry didn't dare to move, he just cradled his hands against his chest and hummed as the tension left his body. He let his eyes slide closed just as he saw Johnny get up and make a move towards a six pack sitting by Denny's drum cases.
“Want one?” Johnny asked, so fucking casual it almost hurt. That's because that's all this was, fucking casual. A pat on the back. Johnny put a lukewarm bottle into his hand.
“Thanks, choom.”
“Don't mention it.”