Title: Why the frown?
Disclaimer: I made this up. Hopefully no one finds this disturbing...
Pairing: Brandon/Ronnie/Dave = oh snap!
The mid west sun was setting behind the horizon of cracked desert floors. The studio room was quiet now. Everyone had gone off to do their own things, everyone but me... and Ronnie. I watched him from behind the keyboard, expertly stroking each key. He hasn't said a word to me since we've been here. I can tell something is bothering him, but I don't ask... I can't ask... I'm not going to ask. Turning my head from him before he caught me staring him down like a frightened animal. I reached for my red bull, the coolness against my hot sweaty palms, was almost refreshing. Almost. After a swig I place it down, I start to wonder. My mind unravels.
I hate when the silence is so awkward between us. Why am I even here still? I stand up finally and meander towards Ronnie's drum kit. Eyeballing him carefully. I feel like I'm walking on glass, but strangely... this excites me. I hate myself for it. Tilting my head with a curious expression over my delicate and effeminate features. So contrasted against the masculine appearance of Ronnie.
I feel a lump form in the back of my throat, I try my best to swallow it. I know he can hear me swallow my courage. I still am unaware of his attitude, and part of me knows why. Although I felt comfortable around Ronnie, there was something about him. His position so dominating. Part of me felt submissive to him, always... to him. Those dark eyes. I turned my face again and held a breath.
It had all come so sudden Ronnie was already up and behind me. I was slammed into the wall of the studio with a girlish squeal. His hands were already feeling up my slender build. My breath stuttered from my lips. I hated that part of me wanted this, I really did want this. Ronnie's rugged breathing in my ear.
"Ya waited for this didn't ya Brandon, that's why you stayed?" Ronnie grunted in my ear, the smell of alcohol on his words. His humid breath sending my skin to crawl with fever. I could feel the strain in his jeans pressed up against my ass. Part of me wanted to struggle, but my body betrayed me and I pushed back into him. I didn't answer him. I was speechless. I know I'd be punished for it later. My vision slipping in and out of focus, the walls seemed to melt. I couldn't believe I was doing this, again. His hands were all over me, starting to remove my t-shirt and exposing me to the cool air of the Studio. But hell if I could feel it.
"Ya want this hard cock, Brandon?" Ronnie groaned. Swallowing hard with a whimper, like a child. He was moving for my jeans. Undoing my belt, and then whipping it up and catching it around my neck like a leash. He yanked on it, my breath became more of a panting now. I merely nodded condolence as he ripped my pants down to my knees. His lips smeared all over my neck before he pushed me down by my shoulders. I cringed at the struggle of breath and moved on my knees to turn around to face him. Staring up at those dark looming eyes. He was grinning. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to cry or gobble him up in my waiting mouth.
I knew what was to come next while he undid his jeans, I never took my eyes from his before bringing them to his semi hard on. Eagerly I took him within my mouth. I was disgusted with myself. Bobbing my head back and forth on his cock. Feverishly he tugged on the belt and his other hand glided through my dark hair. Egging me on, as I quickened my pace. I could feel my own throbbing, as I listened to his groaning and grunts of pleasure. Ronnie grabs my wrist roughly then after massaging my head to his rhythm and makes me feel his chest, and his heart beating wildly and untamed against his rib cage.
But nothing to deter my hungry mouth. I continued to sucking him off as he sighed and leered down watching me. It had been so long, and now it was all clear to me. Why he's been brooding around. Part of me looks up with admiration and another with animosity. I knew at this point I was raging hard.
Pulling upwards on the belt I silently followed his command and moved towards him as he brushed his mouth against mine. But then suddenly there was a knock on the door. A muffled voice with slurred speech. You have GOT to be kidding me. I look around me, but I was scared shitless. Standing so still, but hands were shaking. Ronnie merely pulled up his pants and furrowed his brows looking to me.
"Brandon..." Shaking his head he moves for the studio door. Upon opening the door, there he was. It was Dave. Ronnie smiled and turned to look at me with my hands folded at my flaccid manhood, and a belt hung around my neck. Part of me felt comforted by the sight of Dave, that was until he started to unzip his pants then as well. I had a feeling I wasn't leaving the studio tonight.
TO BE CONTINUED...