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tikificTitle: Stress and Anxiety (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stress reduction techniques
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing
Notes: This is probably as close to a PWP as I'll ever write. My thought is you shouldn't try pr0n UNLESS YOU WRITE IT WELL. But, eh. I'll promise I'll quit whining about it, but: tiki ams had a bad week.
The door opened, and two men entered the small, darkened room. The tall one peered around curiously as the shorter of the two quietly closed the door, checking, unsuccessfully, for a lock.
It looked like a disused storage room. "Mmmm," smiled the tall one, apparently satisfied, and so saying, he had the smaller man pushed up against the door, covering his mouth, his hands everywhere, as there were now extras darting out under his shirt.
Charles hungrily sucked on Ganesh's tongue and kicked off his shoes as a pair of Ganesh's hand made short work of his belt and zipper. He wriggled out of his pants and underwear and let himself be lifted, wrapping his legs tightly around Ganesh. He could already feel the delicious bulge in the other man's trousers as Ganesh thrust against him. He let out a gasp. Already, cold fingers inside him, spreading him, mad with desire.
Ganesh paused to lower his own fly ad then manhandle Charles into a better position.
"I'm going to shove it deep. The way I like it," Ganesh was muttering into his neck.
"Oh gods yes." Charles felt a thrill run through his body. So very unlike his lover to be so direct, so frantic. And he exhaled as he was filled up, no coaxing or petting, just slammed up against the door, a few quick strokes on his own erection thrown In for good measure.
He writhed in sensation, hie legs coming uncrossed, now the only thing holding him up was the wall and Ganesh's dick inside him.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Ganesh murmured. Charles' nails raked across the back of Ganesh's jacket. He hadn't bothered to doff it. "I want everyone to hear you scream."
Charles was desperately trying to quiet his moans, aware that they were now going at it against a not well-soundproofed doorway. "No .. shhhh..." he managed to get out.
"I want them to hear us," Ganesh whispered as he thrust. "I want them to see us fucking." Another thrust. "Fucking my beautiful angel."
Charles' eyes rolled back in his head, fingers now tearing at Ganesh's jacket as he breathed,."No." Every single hair on his body was standing on end. Ganesh clasped hold of his dick once again. He crushed down the scream. He thought of the door. The thin wooden door. People on the other side. Just inches away.
"Let it out," Ganesh whispered. "Let go."
Charles thought about them discovering him, before the show, half naked.
Being fucked senseless by a gorgeous god.
He let his head go back. Let the soft laugh spill out. Laughter. Light as air.
"Yer here, dood?"
Charles turned to look away from where he was hovering over the shoulder of a Klokateer gazing at a closed screen TV monitor. The monitor showed the image of an empty concert stage.
Pickles' face was smeared with corpse paint.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Charles asked him.
"Shouldn't you be in da men's room puking yer guts out?" Pickles asked. "Like yoo always doo before our concerts?"
"Ganesh has been, uh, working with me, uh, on, alternative stress reduction techniques. Uh, personal space, Pickles?"
Pickles was leaning in on him. The drummer took an obvious sniff. "Yoo jest fecked him? Din't yoo?" And suddenly Pickles felt himself being dragged by the elbow outside the control room, out into the hallway.
Charles glanced around and whispered, "Yeah, we might have. But so what? You guys have hundreds of women-"
"Dood," said Pickles, hand to his shoulder. "It's a' right. Jest next time invite me up to da room," Pickles grinned.
Charles scanned the hall again. This time, it was him leaning in closer. Pickles smiled. You could smell Ganesh on him, smoky and spicy.
"We, uh, didn't get a room." He was actually blushing.
"Wut?"
"We, ah, sort of did it. Backstage."
"Really?"
"Ganesh has a theory." Charles started to tick things off on his fingers. "Meditation wasn't working, so he said I should offset the sensation with, er, a greater sensation?"
"Wut da feck?"
"Well, I couldn't calm down, so he said maybe increasing my activation level would, er...."
Pickles grinned a corpse grin. "Dood, have yoo t'ought mebbe Gannish jest wants t' have hot dirty sex backstage?"
Charles brushed a hand over his head. "Ah, yeah, actually, that did occur to me."
"An'...?"
"Well. I don't really see the down side."
"Dat's troo."
"And I'm not puking."
"So yer cured?"
"Ah. I guess maybe we have to do this every time now?"
"Like yoo said, dere ain't no down side."
"Not really. No."
"Unless...."
"Unless what?"
Now it was a sly corpse look. "Dood. Now I know. An' mebbe I'll try t' find yoo."
Charles was suddenly staring straight into Pickles' black-rimmed eyes. He didn't say anything, merely raising an eyebrow.
"Oh. Heh. Yer right dood. No down side." And sharing one last deth grin, he was off to play a show.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stress reduction techniques
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing
Notes: This is probably as close to a PWP as I'll ever write. My thought is you shouldn't try pr0n UNLESS YOU WRITE IT WELL. But, eh. I'll promise I'll quit whining about it, but: tiki ams had a bad week.
The door opened, and two men entered the small, darkened room. The tall one peered around curiously as the shorter of the two quietly closed the door, checking, unsuccessfully, for a lock.
It looked like a disused storage room. "Mmmm," smiled the tall one, apparently satisfied, and so saying, he had the smaller man pushed up against the door, covering his mouth, his hands everywhere, as there were now extras darting out under his shirt.
Charles hungrily sucked on Ganesh's tongue and kicked off his shoes as a pair of Ganesh's hand made short work of his belt and zipper. He wriggled out of his pants and underwear and let himself be lifted, wrapping his legs tightly around Ganesh. He could already feel the delicious bulge in the other man's trousers as Ganesh thrust against him. He let out a gasp. Already, cold fingers inside him, spreading him, mad with desire.
Ganesh paused to lower his own fly ad then manhandle Charles into a better position.
"I'm going to shove it deep. The way I like it," Ganesh was muttering into his neck.
"Oh gods yes." Charles felt a thrill run through his body. So very unlike his lover to be so direct, so frantic. And he exhaled as he was filled up, no coaxing or petting, just slammed up against the door, a few quick strokes on his own erection thrown In for good measure.
He writhed in sensation, hie legs coming uncrossed, now the only thing holding him up was the wall and Ganesh's dick inside him.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Ganesh murmured. Charles' nails raked across the back of Ganesh's jacket. He hadn't bothered to doff it. "I want everyone to hear you scream."
Charles was desperately trying to quiet his moans, aware that they were now going at it against a not well-soundproofed doorway. "No .. shhhh..." he managed to get out.
"I want them to hear us," Ganesh whispered as he thrust. "I want them to see us fucking." Another thrust. "Fucking my beautiful angel."
Charles' eyes rolled back in his head, fingers now tearing at Ganesh's jacket as he breathed,."No." Every single hair on his body was standing on end. Ganesh clasped hold of his dick once again. He crushed down the scream. He thought of the door. The thin wooden door. People on the other side. Just inches away.
"Let it out," Ganesh whispered. "Let go."
Charles thought about them discovering him, before the show, half naked.
Being fucked senseless by a gorgeous god.
He let his head go back. Let the soft laugh spill out. Laughter. Light as air.
"Yer here, dood?"
Charles turned to look away from where he was hovering over the shoulder of a Klokateer gazing at a closed screen TV monitor. The monitor showed the image of an empty concert stage.
Pickles' face was smeared with corpse paint.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Charles asked him.
"Shouldn't you be in da men's room puking yer guts out?" Pickles asked. "Like yoo always doo before our concerts?"
"Ganesh has been, uh, working with me, uh, on, alternative stress reduction techniques. Uh, personal space, Pickles?"
Pickles was leaning in on him. The drummer took an obvious sniff. "Yoo jest fecked him? Din't yoo?" And suddenly Pickles felt himself being dragged by the elbow outside the control room, out into the hallway.
Charles glanced around and whispered, "Yeah, we might have. But so what? You guys have hundreds of women-"
"Dood," said Pickles, hand to his shoulder. "It's a' right. Jest next time invite me up to da room," Pickles grinned.
Charles scanned the hall again. This time, it was him leaning in closer. Pickles smiled. You could smell Ganesh on him, smoky and spicy.
"We, uh, didn't get a room." He was actually blushing.
"Wut?"
"We, ah, sort of did it. Backstage."
"Really?"
"Ganesh has a theory." Charles started to tick things off on his fingers. "Meditation wasn't working, so he said I should offset the sensation with, er, a greater sensation?"
"Wut da feck?"
"Well, I couldn't calm down, so he said maybe increasing my activation level would, er...."
Pickles grinned a corpse grin. "Dood, have yoo t'ought mebbe Gannish jest wants t' have hot dirty sex backstage?"
Charles brushed a hand over his head. "Ah, yeah, actually, that did occur to me."
"An'...?"
"Well. I don't really see the down side."
"Dat's troo."
"And I'm not puking."
"So yer cured?"
"Ah. I guess maybe we have to do this every time now?"
"Like yoo said, dere ain't no down side."
"Not really. No."
"Unless...."
"Unless what?"
Now it was a sly corpse look. "Dood. Now I know. An' mebbe I'll try t' find yoo."
Charles was suddenly staring straight into Pickles' black-rimmed eyes. He didn't say anything, merely raising an eyebrow.
"Oh. Heh. Yer right dood. No down side." And sharing one last deth grin, he was off to play a show.
