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take a walk on the wild side

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“You should never go on stage in a short sleeved shirt with how hairy your arms are.”


David put his face in his hands. He was sweating bullets; the show had gone fine (though he'd worked his ass off), until Lou Reed had to bring his fucking arms up. He knew it shouldn't bother him so much, but to have Lou Reed from the Velvet Underground compliment your music, then critique your arm hair was pretty difficult for an up-and-coming artist. In the back of his mind, David knew it wasn't the trauma of the century, but he couldn't stop obsessing over it.


He heard a knock on the dressing room door, which made him jump.


“Come in?” he said, his voice clearly hesitant.


The door opened enough to show the glint of Tina’s hair and eyes peeking through the space.


“Is something wrong? Everyone else is outside, mingling, still,” she asked, pushing the door more broadly open as she stepped through it.


“I'm fine,” David said shortly, tiredly pulling out a cigarette and proceeding to light it.


“You don't seem fine,” Tina said, sitting down on the table in front of David.


“I'm fine, Tina,” he whined petulantly, knowing he didn't sound fine.


“What upset you? Was it the thing Lou Reed said about your arms?” She asked, looking at him with one raised eyebrow.


“I couldn't give a single fuck what Lou Reed thinks of my arms!” David snapped, slamming his fist down on the table too hard and whining out an additional, “Ow…”


“Yeah, okay, we get it. New Wave legend criticized your arm hair, and now you're upset. I'll go get him. You two need to talk it out,” Tina sighed, standing.


“I don't need to talk out anything, I said I was fine,” David started, and Tina raised an eyebrow at him.


“I know we’ll never hear the end of it if it doesn't get dealt with. I'll just get him and he can apologize to you for insulting your fucking arms,” David opened his mouth to retort, but she was already storming out of the room.


He put his face in his hands again. He was genuinely upset, now. He knew this was asinine; he knew there was nothing to be upset about, but the original comment had bothered him. It has really struck a chord. Combined with the concept of having to now admit that it upset him and discuss it, the whole thing was quite the double threat. David sighed, taking in a big puff from his cigarette and considering putting another one in his mouth simultaneously with hopes that he might die a premature lung cancer death before Lou got to the dressing room.


What the fuck was he going to say? David could picture it now; the image had embarrassment streaming through his veins like blood.


“You hurt my feelings when you mentioned my arm hair.”


How dumb could you get? And how childish? David admonished himself for getting upset in the first place; who cares what other people think of them, even if they're Lou Reed? Lou Reed got punched in the face by another RISD graduate. It was legend and lore for months on their campus. David prayed to whatever overlord that was there that Tina wasn't going to explicitly tell Lou that he, David, was upset about arm hair. How incredibly mortifying. He also hoped it wouldn't come to blows, because he suspected Lou could easily beat him in a fight.


There was a knock on the dressing room door again, which made David jump, his back straightening, and he stood to attention.


“Come in,” he said, really, really not wanting the person on the other side to come in.


Tina had opened the door with demure politeness. Lou didn't, which nobody expected anyway, some people (their names are: David Byrne) just wanted to be left alone in this moment. He swung the door open, revealing himself as if he was the Messiah of art school punks. David felt his cheeks go pink. Okay, there was definitely a reason he cared that Lou insulted his arm hair. Lou shut the door behind him as he sidled into the room.


“The blonde bassist chick said you wanted to talk to me,” Lou said, raising an eyebrow at David, who felt infuriatingly small and stupid.


“Tina?” David said in a small voice, desperately wishing he was literally anywhere else.


“Yeah,” Lou scoffed, “Is there another one? What do you want, anyway?”


David’s heart was absolutely rattling in his chest. He had never been this pissed at Tina the entire time they were in school together, or after. He could kill her. Fuck, he could kill himself for making this whole stupid thing an issue anyway. He was not about to tell Lou Reed that he felt upset about the arm hair comment. He very aggressively put his cigarette out on the ash tray on the table with intentions to spite the universe. The universe did not react.


“Look,” Lou said, more softly this time, stepping closer, “You can tell me whatever it is you want. I'm not going to be upset by it.”


David had no idea what he meant; his mind was still focused on arm hair, statements related to it, and their horrifying repercussions that were becoming increasingly clear and relevant by the second.


“So why aren't you going out with Tina?” Lou asked, breaking the silence and taking David aback.


“Uh, ‘cause she's married to Chris?” David scoffed, surprised by the randomness of the comment.


“Ever fucked her?”




“Huh,” Lou raised an eyebrow, “Ever thought about it?”


“No!” David said, indignant.


“Well, you're just, you know, better looking than Chris. Guess you're not an option though, if you catch my drift.” Lou said, smirking, still standing above David.


David felt color rise to his cheeks, and he dropped his gaze, suddenly finding the pieces of dirt on the dressing room ground incredibly fascinating. Suddenly, the embarrassment, the humiliation, the feeling in his stomach, had nothing at all to do with arm hair. Whatever was going on now was definitely less upsetting than being upset by arm related comments.


“So, am I an option, then?” Lou said, and David refused to look up from the ground, assuming his face was probably the color of an apple by this point.


“Dude, you don't even like my forearms. This has got to be some kind of joke,” David blurted out with surprising clarity.


“I didn't say I disliked them,” Lou said, cupping David’s face in his hand and making him look up at him.


“Oh, no, I'm so sorry. You didn't say you disliked them, you just said I should cover them in public. Those things are so different. Thanks f--” David’s going on was cut off by Lou sighing loudly.


“Oh, shut up.” Lou said, running his fingers through David’s hair.


“You're also, like, as old as my fucking dad,” David burst out.


“What?” Lou scoffed, “What are you, twelve?”


“Yes! No! I don't know!” David was genuinely panicking; he didn't expect embarrassment to devolve into heavy petting.


“Look, why the hell did you say you wanted to ‘talk to me’ and get Tina to wingman for you if you're going to chicken out now that I'm here? Everyone who goes to art school is a little gay, I don't know why you're so frozen up about it,” Lou said, and David opened his mouth to rebuke his comment, but didn't, because “I'm not fucking gay, you just upset me with your insult to my appearance because I care what you think of me,” a) sounds petulant and b) sounds gay.


Anything was better than saying that. David tipped his face up at Lou, blushing still and hating it, and said honestly, “I guess I have a stupid teenage-style adoration.”


“That's cute,” Lou said, condescendingly, “I suppose you've felt like this ever since you had a VU poster on your wall as a kid, right?”


Anger and arousal burned in David’s chest, and he tried to examine the floor again, because it was true. Lou lifted his face up, hooking his fingers under his chin.


“When are you going to learn to stop ogling the floor?”


“Oh, I just find it very interesting down there.”


Lou rolled his eyes and slapped David’s face hard enough to make him clench his knees together and hiss in pain.


“Stop being catty with me,” Lou said, reaching down to unbutton the first two buttons of David’s shirt.


“I wasn't,” David said, shallow breaths catching in his throat when Lou’s fingers brushed against his skin.


His cheek was smarting, but he didn't cup it in his hand or cry how he wanted to, because he didn't want to seem like a baby. Lou finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it open, grazing his skin with the edges of his hands. David whined, shifting in his seat, suddenly painfully conscious of the space his long, lanky body took up; suddenly aware of his physical presence. Lou yanked David’s shirt off of his shoulders, throwing it to the floor. David bit back the dissatisfied noise he wanted to make at seeing something thrown so unceremoniously onto the dirty floor.


David was hoping Lou wouldn't make any body hair related comments, but it seemed unavoidable.


“Jesus, thank god you don't take your shirt off onstage,” Lou said, putting his hands on David’s shoulders, dropping them down his upper arms in a somewhat dispassionate gesture.


David could feel his face burning, his heart pounding quickly, anxiously. He didn't know what to say; he was fully at a loss for words.


“What?” Lou snorted, “Are you that bothered by a joke?”


“No,” David said, witty retorts escaping him.


“Want me to start actually criticizing your physical attributes?” Lou scoffed, “I swear to god, you're impossible.”


No ,” David’s cheeks were burning red and he felt near anxious tears.


He could feel himself getting hard in his pants, and his breath was catching in his throat. He had to get out of this, so he stood up, thinking he could make his way past Lou, out of the room. Then he could forget about all of this.


“Hey, cut it out,” Lou said, putting one hand on David’s chest, halting him in his step.


“Please, just let me go,” David said, his voice soft.


“No,” Lou grinned, “There’s no need for that. Besides, you should be flattered I want to fuck you.”


“Please,” David repeated again, his measured tone falling out, a hint of pleading in his tone.


“Jesus, you're pathetic,” Lou said, looking down at David’s crotch, then looking up at his face, “This upset over a stupid joke about body hair.”


“I--” David started, but Lou cupped his face with a hand, making David’s breath catch in his throat, and he stopped talking.


Lou pulled down David’s bottom lip with his thumb, sneering at him, “What about your stupid, crooked teeth, huh? Or your eyes? They're way too big for your face, you know. And you already have wrinkles around your mouth, what, like art school is that hard? And not to mention--”


“Stop,” David spat, pulling away, “Shut the fuck up.”


Angry tears were rising now, and he felt shame well up in his chest as they ran down his face. He hated his teeth, and he had always felt like he had bug eyes, and he hadn't even noticed any wrinkles.


“What? Crying now? Jesus,” Lou rolled his eyes, “You're not so bad, I wouldn't be in here if you were, but some people definitely wouldn't bother.”


David sniffled, feeling utterly mortified, then lifted his hand to wipe his eyes, but Lou slapped it away.


“You look better crying. Anything could make you look better,” Lou sneered, and David backed up, realizing he'd been backing up, and now he had nowhere else to back up to.


His ass was pressed against the table, and Lou was only a few inches away from him. David winced when the other man grabbed his wrists tightly in his hands, clenching his teeth and inhaling sharply to prevent moaning with the feeling of Lou’s body pressing flush against his. He felt his jean-clad leg pressing against his hard cock ( why was it even hard, he felt like he wanted to die ). He tried pathetically to squirm out of Lou’s grip, but he instead managed to grind himself against Lou’s leg. Overwhelmed entirely, David leaned his face into Lou’s shoulder and sniffled into it shamelessly. At least he was warm, and comfortable.


“I didn't think you'd be such a fucking nancy boy,” Lou spat, letting go of one of David’s wrists, hooking his hand into his hair and roughly pulling up David’s head to make him look at him.


“I'm n-not a nancy boy,” David murmured, his brain shorting out practically.


Uh , you're crying on me because I said you have crooked teeth. And your eyes are too big. And--”


“You already said it ,” David said sharply, despite his tear streaked face, “You don't have to keep at it.”


“God, you'd be such a fucking target for bullying in highschool. Ever get bent over a bench in a locker room and--”


“Fucking shut up,” David spat, assuming aggression, then it melted off his face and he sniffled again.


“You have awful retorts,” Lou said, reaching between David’s legs, squeezing his cock, “And you're hard. You like this.”


“I hate this, and I want to get out of here,” David sniffed out, and Lou’s smile grew impossibly bigger.


“I really don't think you do.”


“C-can, oh ,” David’s breath caught in his throat and he grabbed onto Lou’s shoulders to steady himself, “Can you please just get on with it, then?”


Lou had a lot of things he wanted to say, but he saved them in favor of silently unzipping David’s jeans, hooking his fingers under the band, pulling at them, smirking.


“These are tight, huh?” Lou said, raising an eyebrow, “Guess you have to show off your positive ass ets, to the extent that you've got them.”


“I-” David started, but Lou interrupted him.


“Don't bullshit me, you knew that when you put these on,” he pulled down at the waistband, easing the jeans down David’s thighs, to his knees, leaving him in his boxers.


Lou cupped David’s cock through his boxers, then flattened his hand against it, rubbing it with his palm roughly. David inhaled sharply, gripping Lou’s shoulders like he was holding on for dear life. He let out a whine when Lou lifted his hand up.


“See, I knew you liked it. I could tell you would with how you were showing off in those jeans,” Lou said, putting his hands on David’s narrow hips, then sliding them up onto his lower back.


“W-what do you even mean ?” David asked, sounding genuinely confused, and Lou grinned, sliding his hands down onto David’s ass, making him shiver against him, gripping his shoulders impossibly tighter, his lips opening dumbly in an O.


“You've got a nice ass,” Lou said, grinning, “You're so clueless. You're putting me on, there's no way you can't tell what you're inviting.”


“I'm not--” David began indignantly.


“Oh, shut up. You know you're just asking to be bent over and fucked,” Lou said, “You're just bait for fucking.”


“I'm not doing anything,” David said, angry tears rising again, and he poorly repressed a sniffle.


“Don't act stupid,” Lou said, patronizingly, “You're not attractive enough to have no brains.”


David burst into tears, lifting a hand off of Lou’s shoulder to wipe at his face messily, and he looked up at the ceiling only to be shocked back to reality with a slap to the cheek from Lou.


“Fucking look at me. You should be thanking me on your knees for fucking you,” Lou snapped, holding David’s face in place, forcing him to look at him.


“I-if you don't even like me, then why are you b-bothering?” David murmured out between sniffles.


“You're easy. Probably let your fans fuck you, too,” Lou said, and David pressed closer to the other man’s body, a demure, glazed look in his tearful eyes as he pressed a kiss to his cheek, then dropped his gaze to the floor.


“Don't fucking kiss me, you'll probably pass me something,” Lou snapped, and David pushed his face into Lou’s neck, murmuring embarrassedly, “Sorry.”


Lou wrapped his arm around David’s back, pulling his body closer, surprised by the other man’s sudden neediness, but thrilled with the opportunity to manipulate it. David was shaking under his grip, almost imperceptibly, his tears still flowing, wetting the shoulder of Lou’s shirt. David pressed his crotch against Lou’s leg, grinding shamelessly, letting out an audible breath into his shoulder.


“You enjoying that?” Lou asked, and David responded with a soft moan, then a stoic, “Yes.”


Lou grabbed David by his hips, separating their bodies, and David looked up at him with deep, tearful disappointment. Lou grabbed the waistband of David’s boxers, which were his only remaining aspect of clothing at this point, and pulled them down to his knees where they sat atop his jeans in one fell swoop. David’s cock sat against his thigh, out in the open, and his cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He covered his face with both hands, and Lou rolled his eyes, grabbing David’s wrists and pulling his hands away.


“Jesus, get it together,” Lou said, slapping David in the face again for good measure, drawing a soft, dissident sound out of him, “Get up on the table and finger yourself.”


“No,” David said, his voice soft, yet indignant.


Lou sighed, then grabbed David by his hips and hoisted him up on the table.


“Do it,” Lou said, and David leaned back too fast, trying to gain his bearings, smacking his head on the mirror.


“Ow!” He said, putting his hand on his head briefly, squinting, then looking down at Lou awkwardly.


“Do it,” Lou said again, his tone harsher this time.


“A-alright,” David looked dangerously close to tears again.


His cheeks were both red from crying, embarrassment, and repeated slapping. David tried to adjust himself into a more comfortable position, then realized that the presence of his pants was impeding his ability to spread his legs. He looked at Lou shyly, apologetically, then hooked his hand around the front of his shin, pulling his legs up onto the table, leaning down to untie his shoes, pushing them off and throwing them to the ground. He peeled his socks off, avoiding making eye contact again, the awkwardness of his moments seeming blatant to him. He could feel Lou staring at him as he leaned down, swinging his long legs off the table to push down his boxers and his tight jeans, pulling them off his legs with a soft grunt at his success. He threw them to the ground, and found himself sitting on the table with his legs spread wide, and he looked up at Lou slowly, confirming his suspicion that Lou had been staring at him sharply the whole time.


David leaned back on the table, propping himself up on one elbow and spitting on the fingers of the other hand.


“Thought you were going to go in dry,” Lou mocked, “Haven't you had enough up there to be pretty stretched out?”


“S-shut up,” David murmured, his brows furrowed as he pressed a finger against his entrance, adjusting himself so his legs were spread even wider.


He let out a whine, pressing his pointer finger in up until the second joint in one try. David lay back, sweat accumulating on his face and chest, his torso beginning to glisten under the light reflected in the mirror. He blinked a few times, then began to press in his second finger. First try, he pushed it about half way in, and on the second, he pushed both fingers inside of himself to the base.


“Oh, fuck ,” David choked, pulling his fingers partially out, then pushing them back, slowly, “ Shit .”


His movements got faster, until his whole body was shaking in synchronization with him thrusting his fingers in and out. He was letting out soft, high, moans.


“Alright,” Lou spoke, and David snapped to a stop, his eyes flying open as he looked up at Lou with a shocked stare, then, as if on cue, his cheeks turned bright red.


“I forgot you were there,” David whined out.


“What, do this that much?” Lou grinned, adding, “So glad I bought a condom. Wouldn't wanna raw a whore like you.”


David’s face fell, and he looked down at the surface of the table. Lou stepped in between his spread legs, splayed out on the table and grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled it out of him. David’s head snapped up, and Lou pushed three fingers unceremoniously inside of him. David jolted, letting out a surprised, pained moan.


“Shh, you can take it, you've had worse, I'm sure,” Lou said through David’s whining and moaning.


Soon, Lou had David leaning back on the table, his chest heaving, moaning out softly every time he thrusted his fingers into him.


“Fuck, fuck, fuck me,” David was moaning softly, begging.


What did you say,” Lou asked, not stilling his movements, knowing perfectly well what he heard.


“Oh, God, fuck me, please ,” David whined, spreading his legs even more, and Lou finally stilled, pulling his fingers out of David, unzipping his own jeans, pulling down his boxers.


Lou reached into the pocket of his partially falling jeans to procure a condom, which he rolled down onto his cock right where David, glassy eyes and all, could clearly see him doing it. Lou grabbed David’s thighs and pulled him down the table, lining his cock up with David’s entrance. He pushed into him, and David let out a moan of discomfort, bucking against the intrusion. Grip tight on David’s thighs, he pushed roughly further in.


Fuck ,” David whined, “That hurts .”


“You love it. You're lucky for the attention,” Lou replied, half-grunting the statements, shoving himself the rest of the way in.


Fuck ,” David sighed out, relaxing now that he was completely filled up.


“Bet you've been fasting all day for this,” Lou said, thrusting in and out of David, slowly to accommodate the other man’s comfort to a minimal degree.


Lou ran his hands up David’s sides, cupping the bottom of his ribcage, then pressing down on his rapidly heaving stomach.


“You're already so fucking skinny. You're really frail and easy to manhandle,” Lou grunted out, thrusting faster now, “You probably like it, what, you really wanna be fucked that badly?”


“Just,” David cut himself off with a moan, “ fuck me.”


“I am , Jesus,” Lou put his hands on David’s hips again, thrusting up into him faster now.


David braced his hands against the table, his dark hair mussed up around his face, half in his eyes, as he proceeded to thrust himself down on Lou’s cock, breathing heavily, his pupils dilated, and his mouth hanging open as he let out sounds of satisfaction. Lou grabbed David’s hips, stilling him, then pinned him to the table by his upper arms and began to thrust into him as fast as he could. His thighs were burning as he sped up his thrusts.


“Gonna cum soon,” David huffed out.


“Yeah, me too,” Lou responded, at a practical loss for words (though it wouldn't last long.)


“Do it inside me,” David said, then blinked, adding, “ Please .”


“I have a condom on, you stupid whore,” Lou snapped.


“D-do it on my face, then,” David whined out feebly, trying to fight against Lou’s grip to thrust down on his cock.


David’s cock was leaking against his stomach, leaving a line of precum.


“It's what you deserve,” Lou said, pulling his hand back from David’s arm, seeing dimly that he'd gripped so hard that he'd bruised him.


He wrapped his hand around David’s cock, jacking him off at the same speed at which he thrusted. David was full on moaning now, his head thrown back, his thighs squeezing against Lou’s thrusting hips, then Lou heard him whisper, “Oh, shit,” and felt him tighten, and then David’s body lay loose against the table, his cum dripping off Lou’s hand. Lou wiped his hand nonchalantly against David’s chest, getting off most of the cum and then continuing to thrust into him, hard.


“I don't understand how you can even be appealing to girls,” Lou said, and David looked up at him adoringly with his spent face, “Already mentioned your teeth, and your too-big-eyes, and your wrinkles, but what about your frail fucking body, not to mention, you're a quick shooter, David. All you've got is a fuckable ass.”


David blushed again, covering his face, and then noticed Lou pulling out. He threw the condom aside by the table, swinging a knee up on it, partially straddling David’s body.


“I don’t want—“ David began, but cut himself off.


Lou’s furrowed brow and position over David stopped the other man from getting up. Lou took his dick in his hand, furiously jacking off in front of David’s face. David looked at him glassy eyed, resigned to his fate. Lou sped up, his forearm tensing with each strokes. He moaned under his breath, feeling dangerously close to sliding off of the table, so he balanced his weight against David’s shoulder, pulling himself back up the table to position himself more safely. David was looking at Lou’s cock, inches away from his face, his big eyes widened in perpetual shock.


“Gonna cum,” Lou grunted out, giving his cock one last good stroke.


David made a high pitched sound when Lou’s cum splattered his face unceremoniously. He squeezed his eyes shut, his brows furrowed, then hesitantly flicked out his tongue to lick off some that had landed on his lips.


“Told you you were a whore,” Lou said, reaching down and smearing the cum across David’s cheekbones with his fingertips.


David was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, and then wiping at his cheek with his hand, licking his fingers off.


“Think I’ll just leave you here like this. Whoever finds you can have a go, right?” Lou grinned.


“No!” David said, standing from the table shakily, trying to quickly move out of the door’s opening, so he wouldn’t be seen when Lou walked out.


He just managed to dodge exposing himself to anyone who might be in the hall as Lou exited. Lou slammed the door roughly behind him, and David flopped down in the chair. He sighed. This was absolutely the worst.