One more day to complete my service
He was nervous. No, that was an understatement.
He was fucking petrified.
His sharp blue eyes scanned the empty chairs ahead of him, to his left side and then to his right. He sighed and inhaled a drag of his fifth or tenth or thirtieth cigarette. There had been too many to keep track of. All he knew was that it was probably record breaking.
He grinded his teeth and muttered to himself. A strand of greasy blonde hair fell in front of his eyes but he didn’t make any effort to move it away.
He closed his eyes, kicked the ground and let his black swivel chair swing him around in a semi-circle.
Fuck, he was terrified. Terrified of baring his soul, terrified of contradicting himself, terrifying of stripping himself of the shield he’d been using for so long. All of this in front of his fans and the media and what felt like the entire world.
Piercing blue eyes swung to Krist, then to Dave, then to Pat. How the fuck were they so at ease? How could they be laughing at such a vital time? Oh yeah, they didn’t have to sit at the front of the stage with all the attention focused on them and scream their fucking balls off.
He glared at the three remaining members of his band and, for the umpteenth time in his career, wished that he could just hand the stress of being a front man off to Krist or Dave. He’d seen Krist during shows, Krist could handle a crowd. He wasn’t sure about Dave, but he’d seen him offstage. The drummer was as jovial and outgoing as any person could be. They were everything he was not.
Kurt heard footstep approaching and he swung around to come face to face with an MTV crew member.
“Sir, we have time to go through Pennyroyal Tea one more time, if you’d like.”
The singer gave a weak smile and shook his head, not wanting to go through that song again, afraid to ruin the damn song before the show even started.
The blonde set his guitar on the stand and pushed himself off the chair, stretched his arms above his head, his treasure trail peeking from under his shirt. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his pack of cigarettes and inhaled the toxic air from his cigarette once again as he stepped off the stage, heading for the backstage area, attempting to get a bite of food to get his mind off the show.
Just as he was peering over the mouth-watering array of food strewn across the table, he heard another pair of footsteps inching closer behind him. He whipped his head around, didn’t see anyone and shrugged to himself, picking up a white paper plate.
He soon felt a pair of hands on his hips and before he even got a chance to utter any words, a hand was across his mouth. He tried to scream or make any sounds, but it was lost in the hand.
He turned only to find his drummer, grinning mischievously. Kurt violently struggled to get out of Dave’s grip and when he did, he slapped the drummer on the shoulder.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The drummer shrugged and smirked, his eyes shifting hungrily towards the food.
“Fucking bastard. This is the last thing I need right now,” the singer muttered.
Kurt looked at Dave and noticed that the drummer’s eyes were gazing on his. Dave quickly looked back at the doorway to check that no one was approaching and then he approached Kurt. Kurt swallowed and shifted uneasily. He knew what was coming, he just wasn’t expecting it now. He didn’t think he could deal with the paranoia of someone coming in and catching him and his drummer making out. But before he could freak out more, the drummer’s lips crashed into his and all judgment flew out the windowless room.
Kurt tried to mutter a complaint, but Dave’s hands were quickly fumbling their way into Kurt’s pants. Kurt couldn’t help but let out what came out to be half sigh, half moan as Dave kissed his neck and wedged his hands further down the singer’s pants. He found his own hands reaching for the brunette’s hair as he gripped it tightly as Dave’s hands got closer and closer to his region. When Dave’s calloused finally did find what they were looking for, a sharp breath escaped Kurt’s lips and a groan quickly followed.
Dave realized that Kurt couldn’t control his groans and so he quickly went to cover the singer’s lips with his own. Kurt’s scruff scratched Dave’s chin, but he liked it. The rough texture of prickly hair felt nice against his own smooth skin. Their tongues battled for control as Dave multitasked and also focused on quickly pumping Kurt.
The drummer knew time was running out and so he kicked the pace up a notch. He winced as he felt Kurt slam his back into the table, as painful pleasure coursed up and down his spine. Dave knew that Kurt was coming soon as he noticed the singer’s breathing pace speeding up and his gasps becoming shorter and quicker. When the singer came, he quickly went to silence him by covering his lips with a passionate kiss.
Dave drew his hands out of Kurt’s pants and licked the cum and smirked at Kurt. The singer could do nothing but glare with a hint of a smile behind his lips and a glimmer in his sky blue eyes. Kurt pushed several strands of dirty blonde hair out of his eyes as he headed to the changing room to clean and fix himself up.
The drummer smiled to himself, headed for the bathroom, washed his hands and face with ice cold water and stared back at his reflection. His navy turtleneck clung at his neck, hiding his sharp Adam’s apple and he tied his hair up with a scrunchie as he walked out of the bathroom, glad to have gotten his mission accomplished.
He passed Kurt in the hall. Without having told him why he had just given the singer a hand job, Kurt muttered a thanks, his eyes to the ground, and walked off in front of the younger man. Dave looked ahead and couldn’t conceal the grin that was forming on his lips. There weren’t too many occasions that he could think of where he had received a compliment from Kurt. Dave stepped out onto the stage, lighting a cigarette and doing his best to conceal the smile so that he would not give away the secret between him and Kurt.