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1. The Story of Oh

Record stores had their own comforting smell.

That was one of Taylor's favorite things about them. Whether they had that underlying scent of pot and the incense burned in an effort to cover the smell of that pot or not, they always had a predominant odor of mustiness, of slowly aging cardboard record sleeves. Even in the age of CDs, there were still many stores, some of them considered "retro," that carried records. Taylor hoped they would never go completely out of style. Some labels weren't even putting them out anymore. It was only 1997. It wasn't time to move on so quickly.

Grinning, he pulled out an Eagles record with a sleeve so decayed that the paper edges were worn almost completely through on two sides. The black shiny record within poked out of one of those worn edges just a touch; it made Taylor want to buy it, just to keep the record safe, but he already had this one. Still, he took the record out and looked at the inner sleeve, reading the familiar, beloved lyrics and looking at the band picture. This was one of their best with Joe Walsh.

Nearby, someone burped. Loudly. Taylor looked up.

"I don't like The Eagles," the guy said. The smell of musty paper was replaced with the smell of alcohol; the guy reeked of it. He slurred his words, too.

Taylor glared at him through sunglasses he probably should have removed when he entered the store, but simply hadn't. "Big fucking whoop, dude," Taylor replied.

The guy took off his own sunglasses and added, "Sorry if you like 'em."

A bit annoyed, Taylor looked at the guy again and started to say something else, but stopped short, realizing who he was. It was Dave Grohl, he was sure of it. Dave Fucking Grohl, as he lived and breathed. The drummer of Nirvana, who had worked with one of the most innovative and respected songwriters of the decade, and now had his own band, which was doing pretty damn well for him.

Except that things hadn't been going so well lately. Taylor had read all about it in Rolling Stone and other rock magazines, and heard it on the radio. First, the drummer had quit. Then Dave had been caught with his pants down one too many times and his wife had decided to divorce him. The final slap in the face had been when the guitarist, Pat Smear, said he was also leaving for various reasons, one being that he was disgusted to work with someone who would cheat on his wife multiple times. That hadn't been reported in the press yet; Taylor had heard it through the musician gossip grapevine.

Damn. No matter what Dave had done to his wife, Taylor would kill to work with him. A real rock band. Dave had a real, awesome rock band. Instantly, his mind conjured up some very satisfying fantasies of what it would be like to be the new drummer of the Foo Fighters. Playing for Dave, watching him nod his head as he acknowledged Taylor had what it took to impress the former drummer of Nirvana. Sure, Alanis would take it hard, but he deserved to be happy, he deserved -

"Why are ya looking at me like that?"

Taylor realized Dave was talking to him. "Huh? Oh, nothing." It wasn't a reply that made sense, he saw too late, and had to laugh at himself, looking away.

Dave laughed too. "You're weird." He fell silent, looking Taylor over. "Your hair's real blonde."

"Uh huh." Woo, how many sheets to the wind was he, anyway?

What Taylor didn't know was that one of those people Dave had been caught cheating on his wife with was male. He also didn't know that Dave had once been romantically involved with one of the most innovative and respected songwriters of the decade, a man who had left deep scars on his heart when he died. A man Taylor resembled to someone who was too drunk and too heartsick to make out Taylor's actual facial features. All Dave could really see was blonde hair, a face behind sunglasses, and tanned skin. The guy didn't smell like Kurt; instead, he smelled like chlorine, like he'd been in a pool very recently, but at that point, it didn't matter. Dave had already made the association. His mouth drooped sadly. Everything had been going so wrong lately.

Taylor touched his arm. "You okay?"

Dave felt very much not okay. He felt needy and sad and very lonely tonight. His wife was leaving him - the papers were already signed - and his band was falling apart. Taylor could hardly stand the pain in his eyes when he said, "No. Noooo," in a whine, then found something to blame it on besides his current situation. Dave held up a Slayer record. "I can't find the special red vinyl version of this."

Sighing, Taylor knew that wasn't the real problem. The guy had enough real problems to get him down. "Do you think they got it here?"

"They're supposed to." Dave couldn't stop thinking of Kurt. Everybody left him eventually, didn't they? He wanted to feel Kurt again, just one more time. He hadn't even been dead three years yet. "I called and they said they had it. It's a bootleg import from Germany." Looking a little like a lost puppy, Dave pawed at Taylor's cut off T-shirt. "Will you help me find it?"

Taylor admired him and felt sorry for him at the same time. "Sure, no problem." He took Dave by the arm. "The S section is over here, though." How long had he been wandering around with that record, Taylor wondered.

"Thank you," Dave said gratefully, and allowed himself to be led around the record store until they found the section they were looking for.

Taylor almost passed it up, then stepped back. "Whoa, here it is. S, rock music."

Dave stumbled into him when he halted and doubled back. For a moment, he put his hands on Taylor's waist to steady himself; the guy was wearing a shirt that bared his midriff, and his skin felt smooth and warm. His hair was blonde, like Kurt's. "Is Slayer really a rock band? Isn't there a thrash metal section here?"

"They don't subgenre that much in this record store." Taylor started thumbing through the records. "What color is it again?"

"Red." Using the search for the record as an excuse, Dave leaned over Taylor's shoulder, putting a hand on his back. Could he hope for even a second that this dude would come home with him and help him fill his evening? Would he want to...?

Taylor could feel the warm hand on his back. The feeling brought a brief, delicious shiver from the depths of his groin. It wasn't often that he wanted for female attention, but there had still been a few guys in his past, experimentations, encounters in the name of getting off. Taylor definitely wasn't opposed to rolling around in bed with a harder body. Whether or not it would be Dave Grohl's body...? Could he even hope?

Taylor pulled out a record. It was red, in a clear plastic sleeve. "Is this it?"

Dave took it, and quickly realized his vision was too blurred for him to read the title, even if he squinted. "Is it?"

Taylor had to laugh and shake his head. "Just how much have you had to drink, Dave?"

"One divorce and two lost band members worth." Before Taylor could even begin to feel sorry for him for that comment, Dave smiled, patting his arm. "So you recognize me, huh?"

"Yeah." Taylor compared the two records. "This is the red vinyl version of that one." He wrinkled his nose. "You like thrash metal?"

"Shit yeah." Taking out his wallet, Dave clumsily fumbled out a wad of bills. Taylor's eyes went wide at how much money Dave was carrying. A stranger standing nearby saw the money, and eyed the two of them, obviously interested in that wad of bills.

Taylor took the record and led Dave away by the arm. "Put that money away. You'll get robbed."

"But I gotta pay for my record."

Taking two twenties out, Taylor pushed the rest back in the wallet. "This is enough. Now put that away. Some guy was looking at it and drooling."

Dave giggled. "Woops."

After helping Dave purchase the record, Taylor looked around, making sure that guy wasn't following them. "Oh God, he's right over there. He keeps looking at you."


"The dude who wants to steal all your money and leave you dead in a ditch."

Dave gasped. "That would be really bad."

Chuckling, Taylor agreed. "How did you get here?"


"Then I'll give you a ride home so no one can mug you. How's that sound?"

Smiling, Dave said, "Sounds great to me." He stroked Taylor's arm. "Since you're being so thoughtful and nice, maybe there's something I can do for you. Do you wanna see my drumsets?"

Taylor did. Perhaps he could turn the conversation to an audition. "I'd love to."

Taylor drove them to Dave's house in Laurel Canyon, a very nice house that dazzled him with its size and showy quality. It could have been larger and more opulent, but it was still the house of a well off man. Taylor looked at it through the windshield, the outside lights shining off his sunglasses. "Ooooh. This is nice."

"Thanks." Even though he was drunk, he could still manage to sound humble. Dave slid out of the car. His steps were a little shaky, but he made it to the front door, Taylor close behind him. While he looked for his keys, Dave swayed back and forth; Taylor didn't want him to fall, so he put out his arms to catch him just in case. Once Dave got the door open, he turned to Taylor and saw how he was holding his arms. It made him laugh. "It's like a pinball machine," he said, and deliberately bumped into the spread arms as if he was a pinball running up against the bumpers. "Ding, ding, ding!"

Taylor snickered. He almost closed his arms around Dave as a joke, but thought better of it. If he was going to try to wangle an audition, he didn't want it to seem like he was coming onto Dave to gain his favor.

Dave lingered there a moment, giggling, then went into the house, Taylor following close behind. Taylor again marveled over the house and its furnishings. "You got a really cool place here, Dave."

"Thanks, ah... yeah." The guy was now in his house and he didn't even know his name. Dave attempted to read the words on his newly bought record again. "Wow, I am very, very blitzed. That calls for another drink!" Tossing the record on the couch, he went to the wet bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "You want one?"


Dave poured a second glass; somehow, he was able to do this without spilling a drop. Coming out from behind the bar, he handed Taylor his glass and then knocked the glasses together. "Tink!" he said.

Taylor took a small gulp. "Oooh, good stuff. Smooth."

"I can afford it." He motioned for the other man to follow him.

For a second, Taylor hoped he was about to be shown Dave's bedroom, but it turned out to be a home studio full of equipment and three drumsets. "I've got a few more in storage, but these are my favorites."

Taylor looked them over, touching them here and there like a teasing lover. "They're awesome, just awesome, Dave. You know, I'm a drummer."

Dave looked dubious for a brief second, but long enough for Taylor to catch it; his heart sank. "Are you now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am. I'll prove it to you. You got some drumsticks?"

Dave waved off the idea. "Not right now. Come out into the living room. You gotta see my view."

Taylor didn't want to see the view. He wanted to play his way into the Foo Fighters. He wanted to dazzle Dave with his skill so much that Dave would beg him to be in the band. Taylor could see himself sitting behind the drumkit on stage, backing up Dave as he played guitar and -

"Are you coming?"

Dave caught him daydreaming again. "Yeah, I'm right behind ya."

The view was pretty nice. All hills and trees and the lights of the other houses. "It's beautiful, Dave. Like a giant Christmas tree."

That made Dave laugh. "No one's ever described it that way before."

They had a nice moment, just looking at each other. Taylor sipped from his glass. "We didn't look at your drumsets for very long."

"I guess I thought I was in the mood, but I'm not."

With a clueless grin, Taylor asked, "What are you in the mood for?"

Dave's responding look was a bit dark and devilish, for only a moment. Then he grinned too. "I wanna hear my record." He went to the couch, picked it up, and took it over to the stereo turntable against the wall.

Taylor's shoulders slumped. He didn't like speed metal and didn't much want to listen to the record. This wasn't really going how he had imagined it.

Dave tried to put the record on the turntable, but he kept missing the spindle with the hole in the middle of the LP; he was too drunk. He kept trying it and trying it - it was quite comical. Taylor's mouth twitched with a laugh he held back. When Dave looked through the hole and kept his eye there, then started for the turntable like that, Taylor had to step in.

"Hold on, buddy, you'll put your eye out." He took the record from him.

"You'll shoot your eye out, you'll shoot your eye out!" Dave sing-songed, imitating the characters from A Christmas Story.

Chuckling, Taylor put the record on the turntable. Before he could start it, Dave said, "Wait, I gotta get into position," and spread his legs, adopting a pre-headbanging stance. His hand went up, thumb folded over his middle two fingers in the metal sign, and he began to throw his head to and fro before the music had even been started, headbanging to whatever music was in his head.

Taylor laughed at him, harder. "You know there's no music playing, right?"

"I got the music in me!" Gyrating too enthusiastically, Dave began to stumble.

Taylor, still laughing, acted as the pinball bumpers again, arms spread and feet scurrying back and forth in an effort to catch Dave if he should fall. Dave bumped into his right arm and rebounded into his left; afraid he was about to fall, Taylor closed his arms around him. Fuck how it looked. Taylor wanted to touch Dave, to hold him even for a moment. It wasn't like he didn't have an airtight excuse!

Dave quickly realized Taylor had a hold of him. He thrashed around a little longer, singing, "Raining blooood, from a lacerated skyyyy!"

Taylor tightened his grip. "You are such a goofball."

"Hmm..." Quitting his crazy gyrations, Dave looked down, taking in the situation he was now in. "You got me," he said, tone suggestive.

Taylor didn't know what to say. Was he reading Dave right? Did he like that Taylor was giving him a squeeze?

Dave took the initiative to close the distance between them, taking off Taylor's sunglasses and kissing him aggressively. This surprised him, but Taylor quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around Dave in a more romantic embrace. He felt Dave's hands cradling his face and they kissed deeply and passionately. The room filled with the sounds of kissing and heavy breathing.

He could probably kiss the audition goodbye. Instead, he was kissing Dave Grohl. A part of Taylor could care less; he was turned on and wanted to get off. Being fucked by Dave Grohl, someone he admired, would also be a fantasy come true.

It made Dave happy that Taylor wasn't resisting, that he didn't push him away or, worse, punch him. Called that one right. Maybe he could end the night with a little action. Dave broke the kiss. "You want to mess around? I'm really horny and you're kinda cute."

"Only kinda?"

Dave chuckled. "Okay, real cute. What do you want me to do to you?"

"Fuck me into the mattress."

A strong surge of sexual heat spread from Dave's crotch to his face, and he kissed Taylor again, his cheeks feeling hot. He cradled Taylor's ass in his hands, squeezing his backside in anticipation. In return, Taylor wrapped his arms around Dave's neck and his legs up around his waist. Dave backed him into the wet bar and sat him on top of it. They continued kissing, rubbing against each other.

Dave pulled Taylor's shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. "Mmm, you have such a tight little tanned body." He sucked on one of his nipples, stroking Taylor's back.

Taylor's head brushed against the glasses hanging over the bar. They tinkled together like faint music. Dave moved to kiss Taylor's neck and nip at his earlobe. The younger man leaned into it, moaning. "Dave..."

He moaned back at the sound of his name coming out of Taylor's mouth in ecstasy. "I wanna eat you out 'til you cum."

Taylor looked at him in confusion. "You know I'm a guy, right?"

Dave, snorting, grabbed Taylor's crotch and massaged it. Taylor cried out in surprise and arousal. "Yup, you're a guy." Rubbing Taylor's cock through his cargo shorts, Dave explained, "I mean I want to rim you." He and Kurt had done it a lot, and greatly enjoyed it.

Panting, Taylor asked, "You mean salad tossing?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

"I guess before you fuck me, yeah. That'd be hot."

"Will you do it to me?" Dave whispered in his ear.


Still kneading Taylor's cock through his clothes, he said, "What's your name?"

How embarrassing, that they had gotten this far and Dave still didn't know what his name was. Despite the extremely distracting thing going on between his legs, Taylor still had the presence of mind to be thinking about that audition, the possibility that he could join a real rock band. Dave was pretty wasted. Maybe he wouldn't remember Taylor's face very well. If he did, he might think Taylor slept with him to fuck his way into the band. He would look like an opportunistic whore. If Dave didn't know his real name... it was crazy, to think this would work. But he wanted that chance so bad.

A little ashamed that he did it, Taylor said, "Oh. My name is Oh." It stood for his first name, Oliver, but Taylor didn't even feel safe telling him that.

"Your name is Oh?"

Taylor nodded.

"So what am I supposed to moan while we're going at it, oh Oh?"

Rolling his eyes, Taylor snickered.

"Does it stand for something?"

Nodding again, he requested, "Let's leave that part out, okay?"

"Ah, the anonymous hookup." Dave winked. "We'll do it your way."

Relieved, Taylor suggested, "Let's move this to your bedroom, okay?"

"Okay! Race ya!" Dave playfully started to run across the living room, but before he could get very far, he fell flat on his face. "Oof!" he grunted.

Laughing with a hand to his mouth, Taylor hopped off the bar and knelt beside him. "You alright?"

"Rrrreeeooow!" Dave growled, and jumped on him. They were both laughing as Dave pinned him down with his wrists over his head, kissing Taylor, hot and dirty, all open mouths and tongue. Taylor spread his legs and Dave moved in. They rubbed their cocks against each other through their clothes, humping hard until Dave moaned like he was close to the edge. "Let's slow down a little. We haven't even made it to the bedroom."

"Okay," Taylor panted. When Dave rolled off him, he took the time to remove his shoes and socks. Dave saw this, and did the same, although he got a little tangled in his shirt when he tried to take it off.

Taylor helped him. "You got a lot of tattoos," he remarked.

"I like 'em."

Taylor kissed the one on his chest, then sucked his nipples, moving from one to the other. Enjoying it, Dave ran a hand through Taylor's hair.

"Do you like scented oils?" Dave asked.

"What, to burn?"

"No, for lube."

Taylor smiled. "That'd be pretty hot. Umm, my friend usually burns frankincense-scented incense when we smoke pot; it smells really good. You got anything that smells like that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"You can use scented oils as lube?"

"This oil is specially made for that. It feels kinda like Baby Oil." Dave got up. "No running this time." He was able to make his way to the bedroom, and flopped onto the bed.

Taylor looked at him, posing on the pillows and comforter, a hand behind his head. "Can I get a washrag, make sure you're clean before I rim you?"

"Sure, that would probably feel good."

Taylor took that as permission to enter the bathroom that connected with the bedroom. It was huge, with a big biege, oval tub and antique-looking dark brass fixtures. He pictured himself and Dave washing each other, and got a strong surge of sexual excitement between his legs. "Hey Dave, I got an idea."


"It looks like we could both fit in this tub."

"It's big enough for at least three. Has water jets and... ohhhh..." Dave chuckled. "That'd be fun." He wandered into the bathroom with his glass of whiskey. Taylor had left his in the living room, but that was okay. He didn't want to get drunk, just tipsy.

"There's just something so hot about getting really clean and then getting really dirty," Taylor said with a laugh.

Moving in close, Dave gave him a small kiss. "And helping each other get clean," he whispered. They shared another long, passionate kiss.

The two men stripped each other's shorts off. Taylor turned on the faucet, running his hand through the pouring water to make sure it wasn't too hot. While he did that, Dave retrieved two washrags from the linen closet, and also laid out a few fresh towels.

"Perfect," Taylor said. He pressed the bath plug in place and sat in the flow of rising water, sighing contentedly. Then he reached his hand out to Dave. "Come in. It feels great."

Dave took his hand and walked into the tub, taking a seat and laying back against the side, sipping at his glass of whiskey. Seeing the playful, aroused look in Dave's eyes, Taylor came to him and kissed him. Dave grinned mischievously before reaching under the water and turning on the jets; one was aimed right at Taylor's crotch.

"Woo-ooh hoo hoo!" Taylor cried, caught off guard. Dave snickered. Taylor backed into the jet and let it flow over his sensitive areas with its strong, gushing water. "Oooh, that feels nice."

"They're pretty awesome." Dave snagged the body wash off the wide side of the tub and one of the rags. He held them out. "You wanna get me clean?"

"Oh yeah." Taylor gave him a sultry, 'You are in for it, here it comes' look of promise. After pouring body wash on the rag, he worked it into a lather, and then began to run the wash cloth over Dave's chest. Taylor took his time. Dave sipped from his whiskey, then closed his eyes and laid back to allow Taylor room to lather the hollow of his throat and across his collarbones. He traced every abdominal muscle and soaped up his nipples until Dave's chest was covered in suds.

Dave knew where he was going next, and wasn't disappointed when Taylor plunged the rag between his legs and began massaging his balls and cock with it, and continued even after all the soap washed out. Closing his eyes, Dave allowed his body to feel all of how good it felt to be touched, to be stroked, his erection nurtured, and allowed his mind to wander. The first time he and Kurt had sex, it was in a bathtub. Kurt had come in to compliment him on the demo of "Alone + Easy Target," and it had quickly escalated into sex, with Kurt coming onto him quite aggressively. That first time, Kurt had fingered his prostate, and then fucked him, and it had all felt incredible.

He opened his eyes. The guy touching him had blonde hair... his face was a blur. It was easy to pretend it was Kurt in the tub with him again. But was that really fair? He willed himself out of the fantasy before he called the guy "Kurt." Still, this felt incredible too. Dave undulated against the rag and firm hand, moaning, breathing hard, but eventually stopped and pushed the hand away. He was shaking. "I don't wanna cum yet, not yet. The anticipation is half the fun."

"Is watching part of the fun too?" Getting up on his knees, Taylor poured more body wash on the wash cloth and worked it into a lather again. As Dave watched with a grin, he lathered up his chest, posing with a hand behind his head, then moved his hand between his legs and soaped up that area too. "Nnnah, Dave..." Taylor wrapped the wash cloth around his cock and stroked it firmly for a few minutes, mouth open in a series of raspy moans. "I gotta stop... gotta stop too. There's too much fun left to be had." He let the rag float away.

"You look totally hot when you please yourself," Dave said. "And sound hot too." He twirled his finger. "Turn around. Pour some of the body wash on your ass."

Taylor smiled to himself. He liked that he was turning Dave on so much with his show. After rinsing off his front, Taylor aimed his back end toward Dave and did as he was asked, letting the body wash run over one cheek and into the cleft between them.

Dave watched with rapt attention, following the soap stream with his slightly unfocused eyes. He reached out and rubbed at Taylor's backside, getting the soap to lather so he could wash him with his hand. Taylor looked back at what he was doing and giggled fondly at how hard Dave had to concentrate to get the job done; just how many drinks had he already had that night? "Stop movin'... You just have one butt, right?"

"It's the one in the middle," Taylor told him.

"Oh, okay." Knowing that really seemed to help, which made Taylor giggle harder.

The fantasy came back to claim him. Dave recalled another love-making session in the tub where he washed Kurt before rimming him. He carefully washed Taylor, realizing that the moans he got in return didn't sound like Kurt, but his memories remained. Acting out the memory was still satisfying, if fleetingly.

Just when Taylor thought his ass couldn't get any sudsier, Dave slapped it and said, "You're good. Rinse off."

"Mr. Grohl, you cad, you getting fresh with me?" Taylor rinsed off, then glided through the water to Dave. "Now I get fresh with you. Turn around."

Dave had gotten comfortable leaning against the side of the tub with his arms spread out, but once he heard this, he turned right around, presenting his backside to him. Taylor fished one of the washrags out of the water and lathered it up, then began to wash Dave with it. He used the tip of his finger to rim the puckered opening Dave wanted him to lick and get it soapy and clean. The other man made contented noises. Taylor rinsed him off, then just for kicks, soaped up his back and gave it a good, light scratching. Who didn't like having their back scratched?

"Mmm, that's really nice," Dave murmured.

With light, lilting scratches dancing down his spine, Taylor leaned in to run his tongue over the sensitive hole. Dave tensed up and whined at that first warm, wet touch. Then he relaxed with a moan. Taylor kept it up for a couple minutes, Dave tensing and relaxing in regular intervals, usually moaning when he relaxed.

With Taylor behind him, quiet, it was easier than ever to indulge his fantasies of Kurt. Kurt loved to give and receive when it came to rimming. He always said that he couldn't get enough of the sounds Dave made when he was turned on, nor could he resist the things Dave could do for him with his tongue. Kurt had rarely minced words when they were alone, in bed.

For some reason, Dave thought of an incident where Courtney became jealous of his private time with Kurt. Usually, it didn't seem like she cared about her husband's bisexual dalliances with men, but this time... Kurt had come to him with a furry faux fur blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, hugging him and rubbing his arms. "You're so cold! Was it snowing?"

"Yeah, it was." Dave had just come in from outside, as had Courtney. She sat on the other end of the couch, brushing snow off her shoulders and eyeing the two men closely.

"Really? It started snowing again? You just stay right here with me and I'll warm you up." Kurt continued to rub him with the blanket vigorously.

Dave had let out a loud moan of contentment, which made Courtney snort. "That's sooo nice, Kurt; I'll be warmed up in no time."

At that, Courtney had jumped up off the couch and thrown the contents of the ash tray on them. "No, that's okay, I'm not cold!" she yelled.

Kurt brushed some of the ashes and cigarette butts from his lap. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Instead of explaining that she didn't like being treated like the mistress when she was the wife, Courtney cried, "If you like Dave so much, why don't you just fuck him right here?!" and stormed from the room.

There were times when Kurt could be very selfish and just did whatever he wanted. This was one of those nights. "If you insist," he said, and shoved Dave down on the couch, kissing him.

Dave had struggled a bit, asking, "Shouldn't you go after her?"

"Naw, she's just a bitch sometimes," Kurt replied. "She'll be okay." Before he had even finished his second sentence, Kurt was already unbuttoning Dave's jeans.

"She seemed upset, though. Kurt, wait, you - " He hadn't finished that sentence because Kurt yanked his pants down enough to get his cock out and had immediately put it in his mouth. Dave couldn't speak, just breathed out heavily with a little whine. Within seconds, he gave in as Kurt moved his tongue up the shaft of his dick, very slow, and leisurely back down again.

As usual, Kurt got what he wanted.

A minute later, Dave was hard and Kurt pulled his pants all the way off, everything a tangle of shoes and jeans on the floor. Kurt sometimes took the time to lube Dave up and other times, he wouldn't even bother to put on a condom. This was one of the latter times. Kurt pushed his pants down off his butt and simply wedged himself in between Dave's legs, pushing upward until his feet dangled in the air. Suddenly, Kurt was inside him, and it hurt enough for Dave to grunt loudly. That had been okay, it had always been okay, because it would start feeling really good in a few seconds as Kurt's dick stroked his prostate. Kurt took hold of Dave's cock and started to rub it before leaning down and proceeding to fuck him.

"Dave... I looove fucking you," he moaned in the other man's ear.

Dave remembered that Courtney had come out of the bedroom at that moment and watched them, leaning on the doorjamb of the entrance into the hall and smoking. He remembered how the furry blanket felt against the small of his back and the cleft of his ass as Kurt fucked him. He remembered Courtney at first stabbing him with her eyes and after a minute, seeming to accept that this was going to continue to happen and trying to make the best of it. He remembered her coming over to the couch and perching herself on the soft Ottoman next to them, unbuttoning her shirt, unlatching her bra and exposing her tits to them. He remembered her leaning back with the leather jacket and shirt falling back and rubbing her nipples. Kurt had seen all this and switched Dave to his right hand so his dominant left was free to push her skirt up to her waist.

"Take those off. Touch yourself," Kurt panted.

Smiling wryly, Courtney slipped her panties off, an overly ruffled pair that went with her baby doll style, and almost got them caught on the heel of one soft pink Mary Jane shoe. Kurt moaned in reaction to watching her do this; it stirred something in him. Then she threw the panties in his face with a chuckle. Kurt grinned mischievously.

At that point, Courtney had begun to stroke her clit without mercy. The sounds she made even turned Dave on. Kurt reached over to stroke and finger her and they were both moaning his name. It must have been a big ego stroke for him, Dave mused. Just as Dave started to wonder if he was allowed to touch her too, Kurt had taken Dave's hand and put it there, and she hadn't even flinched, so he had begun to caress her. Kurt took this as a way to free up his hands and he plunged them both into Dave's thick black hair, pulling on it as he fucked him rapid and fast. The sensation made Dave cum with a growl. Soon after, Kurt was cumming too, but he wasn't finished. As soon as he was done ejaculating, he practically attacked Courtney, pushing his face into her wet pussy and giving her head with loud, sloppy slurps. Courtney cried out in delight, lying back on the Ottoman.

Unsure if he had any place in what was happening now, Dave dragged any part of his body that was trapped under Kurt out from under him and pushed himself up the couch, getting up. Kurt didn't bat an eye; he grabbed Courtney and pulled her into his lap, and then they were engaging in foreplay on the couch, kissing and yanking at each other's clothes. Dave gathered his own tangle of jeans and shoes and watched them for a moment. They did look kind of hot together, Kurt with his blonde hair all tousled and Courtney with her skirt rucked up around her waist, the tops of her creamy white thigh-high tights showing. Dave had always liked the feeling of hose or tights rubbing against his hips as he had sex with a woman.

But there was no place for him there, not then, so he had taken the blanket into the bedroom and gone to sleep. That's how things were with Kurt sometimes - all hot, rough, and fast, and done, done, on to the next one. Then there were times when things were intimate and slow and tender. He liked having Kurt either way, especially if he could look into those gorgeous blue eyes while they made love.

Dave remembered all this, remembered every encounter. His thoughts were consumed lately with Kurt. But right now, he was not with Kurt. He was with a cute blonde substitute. Spotting that furry blanket on a nearby shelf in the linen closet, Dave said, "Let's take this to my bed."

They both got out of the tub and toweled off. On his way out of the bathroom, Dave snagged the blanket.

He spread it over his bed and then laid on top of it, on his stomach. The furry blanket felt really good and soft against his dick. Dave started to rub against it as Taylor knelt on the bed behind him and renewed his attention with his tongue.

Spreading his tongue out like a paddle, Taylor used its entire surface to lick Dave in a circular motion, determined not to stop until he came. Beginning to shake, Dave rotated his hips in time with Taylor's tongue, moaning faster and louder as the minutes built toward his orgasm.

"Oh...!" Dave remembered he didn't have this guy's real name to moan, which brought his joke into play. Deciding to go with it, he cried out, "Oh Ohhhh!" and snickered.

Taylor laughed too, and scolded Dave for it by taking hold of his hips and stimulating him without mercy, rotating the tip of his tongue over that sensitive, quivering bit of flesh with provocative pressure.

Gasping, Dave increased the speed of his hips, racing toward the orgasm he knew was coming. Taylor held on, never relenting.

Dave almost moaned Kurt's name. He managed to catch himself at the last second. "Oh! Ohhh! Right there, don't stop!" They looked like some sort of human-sized piston made of flesh and bone as Dave thrust himself against the bed and Taylor sucked hard at his back end in a rhythmic dance. "Uhhh, Ohhhh!" The sound was nearly a howl as Dave came against the blanket. Taylor kept at the pressure and wet warmth on Dave's skin until his movements slowed down and he let out one last sigh before lying still.

Taylor playfully patted his butt. He took Dave's whisky from the bedside table, sipped it, and put it back. "Rimming is a thirst-making business," he joked, then leaned down on top of Dave's back. Taylor ran a teasing fingernail up his bare side. "You still feel up to giving me a good fucking? Please say you do."

Up until then, it had been easy for Dave to fantasize it was Kurt back there, to lose himself in comforting memories. But he had never fucked Kurt; Kurt always fucked him. He looked back over his shoulder and caught enough of a glimpse of Taylor's face to bring himself back to reality. This was not Kurt. Still, that didn't mean he didn't like fucking the occasional dude. "Of course I still want to. You just gotta get me hard again."

"Oooh, what a chore. Where are these scented oils you were talking about?" Taylor rubbed Dave's shoulders. "You want a massage?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Dave replied, looking forward to how good it would feel to have such strong hands working him over. He opened his bedside drawer to reveal a bunch of squeeze tubes of various oils. "Take your pick."

Taylor read a few of the labels. He finally found the frankincense-scented oil, squirted it into his hands, and started to massage Dave's shoulders. Dave sighed in contentment. "You gonna give it to me real hard, Dave?"

"Uh huh. Ooh, I can tell you're a drummer. You've got a strong grip."

Taylor grinned; Dave believed him now. "When you do fuck me, you gonna thrust it in deep? All the way in? As deep as you can?"

"Oh God, yes."

"Will you pull my hair? Just wind it into your fist and ram your dick in me 'til I scream?"

"Damn, Oh, you paint a pretty picture. You know what would get me hard real fast?"


"Finger me. At least two fingers." Dave licked his lips in anticipation and turned over on his back.

"No problem, baby."

Dave shuddered deliciously when the oiled-up fingers were slid inside him. Taylor began to stroke the walnut-sized pleasure button, causing Dave to whine and shake. "Oh yes," he breathed. To speed things up a bit, Taylor leaned over and licked the head of Dave's cock, swirling his tongue around it and giving it a loving kiss. "Ohhhh..." Dave moaned softly. Taylor took him into his mouth. Arching his back, he eased a little more of his cock into the younger man's mouth and put a hand into his hair, pulling on it. "Mmm oohhh baby," Dave said quietly, intimately.

The admiring, hazel brown eyes looked up at him as Taylor took Dave into his throat as far as he could. He bobbed his head up and down a few times until Dave started to moan and growl, and then he continued with the blowjob until Dave was good and hard. Then he abruptly stopped.

"Fuck me now," Taylor said, moving up the bed and looking Dave in the eyes. "You're so ready, fuck me now, please, please."

For a second, Dave was annoyed that the blowjob had stopped when he was so deeply into it, but quickly realized that fucking this guy would feel just as good. He said, "Give me that oil," getting up on his knees.

Taylor handed it to him and sat on his knees, ready to present his ass, looking back at Dave with doe-like eyes. Dave rubbed his cock down with the oil, breathing hard. "Do you need me to use a condom?"

"I'm clean," Taylor replied.

Dave knew it would be safer to use a condom, but he didn't want to. He wanted to fuck this kid raw. "Me too." Taking hold of Taylor's hip with one hand, he slapped the skinny little ass. "Back that ass up, Oh."

Taylor, grinning, did as he was told. Dave rocked back on his heels and sat with his legs underneath him as Taylor had been positioned. He pulled Taylor backward onto his lap and roughly entered him with a grunt of satisfaction. Taylor cried out, his back arched and mouth open. The kid had been around the block but was still pretty tight; the firm fit around his dick made Dave want to cum very badly. He began to hump, to move Taylor up and down, and then they both couldn't keep their mouths closed.

As promised, Dave took a handful of Taylor's hair tightly in his fist, pulling on it. Taylor moaned, "Oh Dave! Fuck me!"

"What do you think I'm doing? Do I need to fuck you harder? You can't feel it?" He quickened his pace. Taylor felt so slick and warm inside; the feeling was going to make him cum and fast.

Taylor cried out at every thrust, especially when they came harder and faster. "Dave, that's so good, soooo good."

"I like this tight little ass," Dave said, talking dirty. "I like fucking it even more."

"Don't stop!"

"Did I act like I was about to stop?" To prove he wasn't, Dave got up on his knees, forcing Taylor onto his hands and knees, and fucked him as hard as he could manage. Skin began to slap skin.

Now Taylor whined, taking it with pleasure. "Oh Dave! Oh Dave! Give it to me, just like that!"

Dave used the hand he had wound in Taylor's hair as leverage to thrust himself in harder, forcing Taylor's back to arch as far as it would go. The kid seemed to be pretty limber. Damn, that was hot. He was aware that Taylor was moaning, "Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!" at every thrust, loud and raspy, but the noise of his own blood beating in his ears was much louder. The sound of the blonde was pretty hot too. Taylor let out a jagged cry and came on the blanket beneath them, cumming without currently being touched, just like Dave that time with Kurt and Courtney.

Shortly after, Dave came too, a great rush flooding through him. His eyelids fluttered and he huffed out a long, shaky breath, riding his orgasm out to fruition. When the rush passed, Dave saw Taylor lying on the bed on his stomach, panting, and a few blonde hairs in his fist. "You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, man. You didn't hurt me," Taylor answered, his voice slightly muffled by the blanket. He pushed himself up on his knees. "I may walk funny tomorrow, though."

Dave's stomach lurched when he realized he had said those exact words to Kurt after their first sexual encounter. It wasn't such an original joke, but it still brought Dave back to the reality of everything he had lost and everyone he was about to lose. Could he ever put his marriage or his band back together?

A lack of food mixed with an abundance of alcohol and the strong sexual rush that had made his head spin sent Dave running for the toilet. As he threw up, Taylor looked at the bathroom, feeling confused and hurt, wondering if he'd done something to cause this.

Don't be an idiot. The guy drank too much. Get him some water and get him to bed.

"Dave, you okay?"

Dave answered him by throwing up some more.

Taylor gave him some time, then went into the bathroom and ran water into a glass by the sink. Dave was hunched over the toilet, breathing hard but trying to calm down, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Mm sorry, Oh. I drank... too much," Dave tried to explain, as if Taylor didn't know.

"It's okay. We got pretty wild there, too," he giggled. Taylor got down next to him and put the glass to Dave's lips. "Drink some of this. You know it will help."

Dave did, slurping it clumsily. "Thanks."

"Do you think you're done?"

"Um... yeah, I think so." He flushed the toilet with a shaking hand. "What a great topper to our sexcapade, huh?"

"Don't worry about that. Come on, I'll get you to bed." Taylor helped Dave to his shaky feet and walked him back to the bedroom. Dave flopped onto his stomach on the bed and immediately closed his eyes, groaning.

Taylor got a rag, wet it, and brought it back to the bed. He put it across the back of Dave's neck. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I'd really like to sleep now." Dave said all of this without opening his eyes, slurring some of the words. "You can stay if you want. Sleep."

Ending the night this way troubled Taylor; it wasn't really his fault, but this wasn't the impression he wanted Dave to be left with of their time together. Oh? Oh yeah, he was that guy I fucked right before I puked my guts out. "Okay. I'll look after you."


"What? ..... Dave?"

Dave let out a snort, then a snore. He'd passed out.

Now this really wasn't the impression he wanted Dave to be left with of their night together. Taylor hoped he wouldn't remember him at all at this point. With a sigh of regret, Taylor draped the sheet over Dave and stroked his hair for a moment. He also grieved for the chance he felt he was losing to circumstance. Being with Dave again, joining his band, he could kiss it all goodbye.

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