Page 122 of Beneath the Stain

“Greenroom,” Mackey moaned into Trav’s mouth. He shoved Trav’s chest and hopped down, then grabbed Trav’s hand and hauled him past the band who were busy clapping each other on the back, past the other bands getting high in the waiting area, through a maze of hallways, and to the dressing rooms behind the stage. Without pausing, he spotted the room he needed, dragged Trav in, and shut and locked the door.

The face he turned to Trav was grim and triumphant, and Trav didn’t have a chance to do anything but stare at him, stunned, as Mackey closed in, reached up, and pulled Trav down for another kiss.

Mackey moved to his jaw, bit hard, pulled on his earlobe, and Trav tried hard to be in control of the situation.

“I’m not—” Oh God, Mackey just shoved his hand down the front of Trav’s slacks and grabbed and squeezed. “I won’t—” Mackey used his other hand to lift Trav’s T-shirt up under his jacket, clamped his mouth over Trav’s nipple, and pulled, biting delicately as he did it.

Trav whimpered.

“I won’t fuck you here,” he growled.

Mackey pulled up from his nipple and grinned. “But I’ll blow you, and that’s all I want.”

There was a pillow on one of the folding chairs by the makeup counter, and Mackey reached for it and threw it on the ground. He shoved Trav’s pants down, underwear too, and took little bites of skin and suckles of Trav’s sweat as he sank to his knees at Trav’s feet.

Trav heard some rustling and looked down to see that Mackey had shoved his own skintight, cock-cinching jeans down and he was mostly naked himself as he looked at Trav’s cock, bobbing at a ninety-degree angle and slapping him lightly on the face.

Mackey grinned, all evil, taking it in his hand and slapping his cheeks and his chin a little harder. “You beat off this week?” he asked.

Trav whimpered. “In the dark,” he admitted hoarsely. “When we texted.”

Mackey smiled, pure, sweet gratitude, then opened his mouth and took Trav deep into his mouth.

Trav’s cock swelled, aching, and Trav flailed, looking for something, anything to hold on to. He managed to find purchase on the counter to his left, and he let his hand take his weight while Mackey was trying to suck his balls through his cock like golf balls through a straw.

He was rough, his hand hard, his mouth tight and brutal, and every so often Trav felt the dangerous brush of teeth, but that just made it better. Trav’s whole body crackled, zinged, swelled with need. He stood, chilled and hungry, in the center of the brightly lit greenroom, and caught the image of all the mirrors, every one showing Mackey sucking Trav off with a fierceness Trav hadn’t known existed.

He had to close his eyes or he’d fall to his knees and break his promise, spread Mackey’s thighs and take his ass right there, lube or no lube, fucking him rudely on the greenroom floor.

As it was, closing his eyes just made him aware of Mackey’s sweaty palm cupping his balls, his rough fingers sliding back and groping at Trav’s pucker. Oh… oh God… so quick the surge of come in his balls hurt, his taint and ass ached, and Trav wanted more, more, even when his vision washed black and a scream of sudden orgasm ripped at his throat.

“Ah….God, Mackey!” Trav knotted his fingers in Mackey’s sweaty hair, dragging Mackey closer until he gagged, some of Trav’s come spilling from his lips and trickling down Trav’s thighs. Trav eased his grip on Mackey’s head and concentrated on his ragged breathing. He gasped slightly when Mackey licked the crease of his thigh and over his balls, cleaning him up, and then even more when Mackey started tonguing his shin, and his calf, and the inside of his knee.

“Mackey!” Trav half laughed, half groaned. His cock was getting hard again, and he was afraid that if he backed up, he’d trip over his own pants.

“Cleaning you up,” Mackey replied smartly, that evil grin growing lazy and dirty with repletion. “You think you’re the only one who came? I just sang an entiresongabout fapping—you think I’m not gonna take advantage?”

Trav tried not to giggle and offered Mackey a hand. “Get up here,” he ordered. “My pants’ll hide it, and I need to kiss you.”

“Mm….” Mackey got lightly to his feet and kissed Trav eagerly, but not desperately. Trav tasted his own come and his balls tingled all over again. With a sigh, Trav pushed him back and bent down to get his pants.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” he said, pulling his pants up and tucking his T-shirt in. “I didn’t even do this shit in high school.”

Mackey rolled his eyes. “Man, until last week, I thought this was the only kind of sex there was.” He started worming into his own jeans, which looked a hell of a lot harder; they were a hell of a lot tighter, and all sweaty to boot. Trav backed up and let him struggle, because the alternative was taking Mackey out to greet the band completely naked, and it was going to be hard enough just knowing that the whole world would guess what they’d been doing.

“Why’d we just do that?” Trav asked when it looked like Mackey might be victorious over public nudity.

Mackey ignored their cooling sweat and threw himself into Trav’s arms. “You came,” he said happily. “I mean, you came just now, but first you got here. You promised and you did—”

“Mackey, I totally fucked up. I left the equipment and shit up to Heath, and I know he’s my boss, but it was a mistake, and—”

“Shut up,” Mackey murmured without heat. “You’re here. You got no idea, but that counts. You’re here.”

He turned his shining face to Trav then, and Trav pushed his hair back from his sweaty, makeup-smeared cheeks. Underneath all that, he could see Mackey, the real Mackey, with the luminous gray eyes and the freckles across his nose, and that surprising sweetness when it looked like he and the world might not be at odds after all.

God, Mackey Sanders was blindingly, terrifyingly, scorchingly beautiful, and Trav couldn’t believe that even for this moment, Mackey was all his.

THEYHADto move, and the next hour as they took care of their gear and grabbed cars for the hotel was an agony of embarrassment for Trav. He felt like he had “I just got a closet blow job” painted over his face in come, and he wanted to shower, preferably with Mackey either in the shower with him or waiting, clean and happy, for when he got out.