Work Text:
It’s one of those stupid night that their stupid rockstar schedule means they gotta ride the buses through the night so they get on time to their next stupid destination. Mick is vaguely aware that he’s having anger issues again but it’s not his fucking fault they decided to lock him in a bus for the full fucking duration of the tour with Chris.
Even though, the reasoning behind the repartition in the buses had seemed pretty logical at the time, it’s currently turning into torture because Alessandro, who’d seemed so dependable and solid, has apparently caught Chris’s cootties. There’s no other explanation to him saying: “C’mon Jay, get the blindfold.” There had been a pause, possibly because someone had answered something and then: “I’ve got his wrists, yeah…”
And so Mick is simultaneously trying his best to hide in his bunk, not miss a second of what’s going on, pretend he isn’t already getting turned on and consider whether he’ll risk taking a look. The wrongness of the situation suddenly crashes into his guts, and he spends a couple of seconds agonizing over what to do really.
“Ok, Chris, you gonna be a good boy?”
This is Jay’s voice. Mick had also thought he was a trustworthy new young member of their band, his disappointment tastes like more arousal. This is shaping up like a trainwreck, and Mick is reluctantly surrendering to the conclusion that he is in fact weak.
“Humm yeah,” comes Chris’s slurred answer. He sounds drunk, and sexy. Mick is caught between the horrendous feeling that this is not acceptable jerk off material and the inescapable feeling of arousal.
“Open your mouth,” says Alessandro in his deep commending voice and Mick catches himself before obeying. A rush of shame and want wars along his spine, Mick drops back into his bunk. Whether he wants to be comfortable or to escape from the words he has no idea.
There’s a moan fleeting to him now, it sounds pleading, Mick can’t help but picture Chris blindfolded and sucking on somebody’s cock. It sparks more pleasure in his cock, and a shower of shame, Mick didn’t know shame tasted so good and he stops fighting and gets his hand into his pants and around his rock hard cock.
“You like that, don’t you?” Alessandro again, and a low incoherent whispered answer. Mick appreciates the ordinariness of this instant, and enjoys a second of guilt free masturbation, until there’s the sound of a slap followed by Chris cursing softly. There’s a tsunami of wrongness going through Mick that crashes against his arousal intensely, making him speed up on his cock.
“V-man? I think Chris wants more…” Mick’s head is already swimming with too many visions of Chris, Jay and Alessandro, he doesn’t want to hear more. A renewed wave of humiliation crashes into his cock, his fingers tighten around himself, possibly trying to keep his climax at bay, but Alessandro spears him with his next sentence
“I see… Chris, you gonna fuck yourself on my cock?”
Mick never hears what Chris answers, if he answers at all, he’s coming hard into his hand, feeling intensely ashamed and humiliated at being so fucking weak.